#live laugh peregrin took

[christineedaaee]

pippin is a little shit that snores loudly and sleeps with his mouth wide open and goes "honk shoo honk shoo"

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Length of Years: A Rapunzel Retelling

The woman in the tower brushed her hair. It had long ago turned white, and had grown to cover most of the floor in her little stone room. She braided it with lightning speed, her gnarled fingers confidently completing the familiar task.

Her gaze wandered through the chamber filled with the works of a lifetime. Tapestries she'd woven. Books she'd read and written. Dresses she'd designed. Plants she'd carefully tended until flowering vines framed her one window to the outside world. Evidence of arts she'd mastered, skills she'd developed--once sources of pride and joy, and now simply the remains of an empty life.

Now that her mother was dead, what did she have to live for? She'd sacrificed her life out of loyalty to the woman who'd given her everything; she'd never dreamed that someday she'd be the one left alone. This tower room had been her world; now that world seemed pathetically small. A dismal showing for so many decades.

She sang to banish the thoughts--song was her only weapon in her war against the hostile silence. The song was a light ditty from her younger years, about a bird in a cage, flying free. She'd sang that song often, once upon a time, to an awestruck audience. The only visitor this tower had ever held.

Unbidden, he appeared before her mind's eye. Young. Strong. Dark-haired. Square-jawed. With scarred hands and a dimpled chin and laughing eyes. He'd come to see her, day after day, and filled her world with a joy she'd never before known.

He'd asked her to leave with him; she'd refused, for Mother's sake, again and again, until he'd spoken so abusively against Mother that she grew offended for her sake, and told him to leave and never return. He'd obeyed her wishes, as he always had, and now she had nothing left of him but memory and regret.

She sang all the stronger as the memory turned to sorrow. She'd had her chance and thrown it away. Time had devoured any hope she'd ever had. What was the use of wishing otherwise? She was, and would be, now and forever, alone.

Even the song couldn't change that, so she stopped singing.

And in the silence, she heard a voice.

"Rapunzel! Rapunzel!"

An illusion. A hallucination. A phantom voice conjured by an abundance of memory and solitude and a lack of anything else.

The voice persisted. "Let down your hair!"

The voice was weaker than the one she remembered. Graveled. Worn. Aged.

But beneath it all, a familiar tone that brought her mind back to a time when she was fair-skinned, golden-haired, slender, willowy and oh-so-young.

She raced to the window with a speed she hadn't been capable of in years. Her joints creaked as she leaned far out the window, clinging tightly to the ledge to maintain her delicate balance as she looked down.

At a man in well-worn travel clothes marked with the royal coat of arms.

"I heard your singing," he said.

His hair was shorter than she remembered, gray and frazzled but still remarkably thick. His square jaw had grown jowls, his face had grown lines, his eyes had grown dimmer. But his smile as he gazed upon her was as bright as the one she saw in her memories each night.

With a bow that was slower but no less elegant for the passing of years, he asked, "My lady, might I ascend?"

With a joy she hadn't known she could ever possess, Rapunzel gathered up her endless white lengths of braid and let down her hair.

**

The climb took longer than Rapunzel remembered, but at last her visitor reached the window, and Philip Peregrine Bertram, prince of Whitbay, entered her chambers once more.

He bent double as he caught his breath. "Has your window always been that high?"

"It hasn't moved," Rapunzel said.

And neither have I.

Philip heard the unsaid and more valuable words. His gaze, when he stood straight and looked at her, held the compassion she'd always admired. "I heard of your mother's passing."

"It was very sudden." Mother had collapsed in the middle of a conversation, just after a climb up the tower in the rain. Rapunzel had buried her body beneath the stones of the tower's lowest level.

"My sympathies," Philip said.

He was the first to offer them, in all these weeks. Despite the hatred Rapunzel knew he had for her mother, she knew his words were genuine.

That, more than anything, brought the tears to her eyes. "Thank you."

Philip offered a handkerchief, which she took without shame. "Do you have food? Supplies?" he asked.

Rapunzel nodded, glad for the switch to more practical matters. "There are garden boxes here in the tower, and a boy comes every week with supplies."

"And you've stayed?"

She shrugged. "I had nowhere else to go."

No one else to go to.

He heard these unspoken words, too, and his face, as he sighed, seemed to age another ten years. "Rapunzel," he breathed. "I am so very sorry."

His voice held such depth of regret that she knew he apologized for far more than her mother's passing.

Despite herself, Rapunzel's words of response sounded far younger than the girl he had known. Like a child's--small, delicate, broken, plaintive. "Why did you never come back?"

"You asked me not to," Philip said. "And I had my pride. I might have returned, when my temper cooled, but then there were the wars, the diplomatic missions, the voyages, the marriage treaty, the children..." He sat wearily on her window ledge. "By the time life slowed down, I assumed you'd long ago moved on, and it would have been disloyal to seek you out. I only came to the village by chance and heard the locals speaking of the woman in the tower. Then I came to the woods and heard your song..."

He trailed off as he gestured to the room around them.

"I see," Rapunzel said, though she could barely even imagine it. An entire life full of war and travel and conflict and change happening quickly enough to obscure the passage of time, while she'd stayed here in the same set of rooms as the long, slow seconds marched lazily by.

"Did no one else ever come to the tower?" Philip asked, sounding almost desperate to hear some hint of joy from her life.

"No one," Rapunzel said simply. "Mother made certain of that."

Philip's jaw clenched, and there was a spark of the old fire in his eye, but he did not speak ill of the dead.

"I never mentioned you to her," Rapunzel said, "but she must have been suspicious--I wept so often in the weeks after our argument. She set barriers and traps in the woods after that. Spread rumors that I was mad and violent. The only outsiders who ever came were the boys who delivered supplies, and Mother always hired slow-witted lads who didn't ask questions."

"And..." Philip swallowed back some emotion. "And she was your only company?"

"She was never unkind to me," Rapunzel said, for she hadn't been, whatever her other crimes. "She made certain I never lacked anything I wanted."

"Except for freedom."

Rapunzel shook her head softly. "For a long time, I wasn't sure I wanted that. If I left, how could you find me? And by the time I believed you'd never come, I knew enough of the world to know I was safer here."

"Friendship, then."

"I did want that," Rapunzel admitted. "You don't know how much." Her fists clenched and her words quavered. "Sometimes, I thought it would break me."

Philip rose to his feet and caught her hand between his. "But it didn't," he said, with soft reassurance.

"Not yet."

"It won't," he said, with the firm compassion of age. "Not while I live." He raised her hand between their faces and looked deep into her eyes. "We've lost so many years, Rapunzel. I can't begin to atone for what you've been denied, but I can make certain that you're denied it no more. Come with me. Leave this place."

Rapunzel felt as though the tower had crumbled beneath her, leaving her no firm place to stand. It was more than she had dared to hope for, not for years and years and years. "How can I?" she whispered. "Your wife and family..."

"My wife passed nearly ten years ago. My children won't deny me the comfort of your friendship."

She gazed out the window toward a distant world glowing with a purple sunrise. "It's been too long," she said. "Too much life wasted. So little time ahead."

Philip's eyes, when she looked back at him, were as bright as those of the boy she'd once known. "Then we'd best not lose another minute."

**

Her head felt impossibly light. Her hair felt strange where it brushed against her shoulders. She secured the long, long braid to the pulley outside her window, then let down her hair one last time.

Philip secured her in the braid like a harness, and slowly lowered her to the ground. When her feet were firmly on the grass--it was so much softer than she'd imagined!--he climbed down and landed beside her.

Philip took her hand in his. "Are you ready?" he asked.

She nodded, too full of joy to speak.

"We'd best be on our way, then."

With her face toward the sunrise and her hand wrapped in his, Rapunzel strode forward and left the tower behind.

[aquarium-ina-bag]

Where Danger Finds Me, it Follows with Tides - 7

'Cause you live in my day dreams ch. 7

Word count: 2.7k

Relationships: Wednesday x Reader (She/they)

Warnings: Mention of blood, pain, bullets.

A/N: So sorry I took so long had a project anyyywaayyyy, if I do breaks again Im able to do drabbles so ask away. I have an Idea for a side au with Jenna, just confused about how I'm gonna use this character R and actor R (Gasp spoilers, wtv) enjoy, give suggestions yatta yatta.

Small conversations spread among the bar, bottles hitting stained, polished wood and smooth granite countertops, and low music playing. It definitely wasn’t a big bar, but it was the home of drunken souls in the outskirts of Jericho. And tonight it housed hopeful, evil, and grieving souls. 

The door swung open, hitting the bell. A small three-man group raised their heads to see the newcomer as the bartender gave his regular warm smile to the eccentric man. 

"Evenin’ James, usual?" The bartender cleaned a glass, ready to serve. 

"Nah nah, I need somethin’ tougher; I’m ina surprising mood tahnigh’ hit me hard." James was practically jumping and shaking. 

The bartender started to pour him a fireball.

"Well, gee, it seems like you've got something heavy already." He slid the glass across the counter.

James quickly caught it and brought himself to the table of three men. He threw his head back and drank with speed. "Fellas, I got that damn thing that's been killin’ my livestock." He slammed his hands on the wooden table. 

The three of them laughed, and one spoke up. "The fucking big creature you saw, with the big claws and skin like a lagoon?" Dune made gestures to mock James' description. 

"Nah na! It’s real, but this one had wings! My god, the size of them nevah seen before, the tips nosebleed red, and it-it-it got deeper colah at the base." James tossed around his arms to depict this creature of the night "OH! And-and-and when I shot the bitch, the speed it took was incredible! Even though I shot it in the wing, damn it was moving maybay 300 miles?"

The group looked at the man in front of them like he was on shrooms, he sure acted like it. The bigger male chuckled, "So you’re saying some big ass peregrine falcon, has been taking your sheep, and when you shot it, it left at the speed of 300 miles per hour?" 

"No, no, Harlow, it gave me my sheep back! It done dropped the sheep back in the pen, ALIVE! The damn hooves were painted pink! Fuckin pink!" James explained.

The men were invested now. "You got two creatures in your fences now?" Harlow asked. 

"Yes! One is killing them, the other is saving them. Like an angel." James fawned over his findings.

Chuck took a sip of his beer before speaking. "Well, you said it was dark and bloody lookin’, don’t sound like no angel to me." 

"What would I call it then?" James questioned his ideas.

"I say call it a blood hawk, it’s easy to identify," Harlow said as he toyed with the ring of condensation on the wood.  "Also, go buy one of them cameras that videos motion." 

The bartender couldn’t hold his words anymore. "Say, you know what’s known for having creepy abnormalities, that Nevermore school miles away. That lagoon creature you were talking about James, I think it’s been seen there plenty of times." 

The bartender pushed a glass towards a shaggy brown-haired man, his hair long, as were the scars on his face as if he were mauled by a beast. The man’s clothes looked so mismatched and ripped; he had a beard starting to grow; and he looked homeless but still had money to buy a drink. This man couldn’t help but listen to the conversation; he made clear, surprised expressions at the words ‘Nevermore’ ‘Blood hawk’ ‘sheep’ and ‘alive’. All this man could do was hum in acknowledgment. 

"I’ll look into it once I get home." James smiled and continued to change the subject.

—————-

"Wednesday I know you usually don’t regret things, but I honestly feel so awful about hurting Y/n," Enid said with her chin on her school desk, her body droopy.

Sure, that is true Wednesday doesn’t feel regret, but everything she regrets on her mind is rooted in because of you, she regrets ever talking to you, accepting your dual, working on the project with you, letting you see something vulnerable in her—she regrets a lot when it comes to you. 

"They said it was fine." What Wednesday really regretted was letting you leave and trusting that you would take care of yourself. She hasn’t seen you all morning. The thought of you bleeding out that whole night banged on her cranium. 

Enid turned to face the goth, laying her cheek on the cold wood. "You don’t really believe that." Wednesday regrets not smothering her roommate, and Enid started to understand Wednesday’s ‘signs’. The raven stayed silent, keeping it that way the whole period. 

When it was over, she took her free period to confirm that Enid hadn’t murdered you. She checked the gym; you weren’t there. Wednesday looked where you feed birds; no luck. She entered your dorm to find clutters of paper and files scattered around your desk. As if a voice was pulling her into the room, Wednesday walked in and shut the door behind her, making a careful walk across the room to your desk. The floorboards creaking had an unusual pattern as if someone were in the room with her. The raven was on edge but still curious; determined to find out why you were gone. 

The goth inspected the papers on your desk. Pictures of the farm you two went to, papers containing information about the owner of said farm. What really stuck out were documents from the U.S. government. How in the world were you able to access something like this? The thought that you were taken by the FBI could make her chuckle. Wednesday shuffled the small stack, trying to get them back in order. When the order was found, Wednesday couldn’t stop reading.

In brief, the documents explain how an ‘anomaly’ that was captured in December of last year escaped a government vehicle, killing four of the six men in said vehicle. This creature never made it to the lab for testing, questioning, and possible execution. This creature could be conjured by American citizen Tyler Galpin. 

Tyler was out, and that was him; he was still lurking in the towns, waiting for his next victim.  

Wednesday looked around for anything that could reveal she was here, and when she turned to the glass screen door, a shine drew her in like everything else in this room. 

Unlocking it and stepping onto the concrete, she looked down to find a bullet that was almost perfectly clean. Why would you have a perfect bullet here? The casing was gone, so this was fired. 

This curious black cat bent down to pick up the fired bullet. Her head was shot backward, and scenes dashed and flashed across her vision.

Fingers that weren’t yours loading ammunition in a firearm; the bullet flying into feathered flesh, then deeper into warm blood and muscle; with her perspective being the bullet, Wednesday felt layers decompressing her. From what she could guess, it was feathers falling off, then skin, then muscles. The bullet dropped in a pool of blood; something or more of a surplus made a horrific shriek as if it was getting brutally attacked. She couldn’t tell what made it, and the warmth of blood left her after the vision ended.

Once the vision was over, Wednesday moved her head back. It felt as if someone was beating her skull; that never happens with visions, but that aside, what did she just see? Wednesday began to make a hypothesis, clearly, this was past, not future, and this bullet wasn’t yours, but she couldn’t be sure if you fired the weapon, it was shot in some bird, but why was the bullet removed like that, layer by layer? What was that screaming? 

The girl’s head was pounding, and before she left your room, she took the bullet, the papers. She wanted to find some type of DNA in the room, but her head said otherwise. 

—————-

Something was wrong; your brain was triggering some sort of defensive reaction, and you didn’t understand what was triggering it. You’re trained to keep your brain in full control, to know when you’re being psychologically attacked, and currently, the right and left sides of your brain are disagreeing with something. Before you can get the problem fixed, you need to know the problem. That could wait though.

"I really need to train back home again." You muttered to the wind, and it raced past as if responding.

You smiled as you continued to walk along the side of a gravel road. This scenery wasn’t better than the woods with Wednesday; did you even look at the view when you were with Wednesday? What were you focused on? 

This constant questioning of yourself was scaring you. Your family described you as a person, with no limits, but you had to be in control of your whole body, and recently you weren't. Maybe that’s why you're triggering a defensive response.

You stopped at a small home surrounded by flat, crop-growing land, knocking on the door before you looked yourself up and down. With a small smirk, you thought the outfit looked like a hitman in the winter decked out in dark, puffy clothes. Hey, it was close to the beginning of winter.

Once the door opened, a taller man, maybe 2 inches taller than you, greeted you with a grimace.

"Well, who the hell is you? Matrix-looking kid. All these damn new fashion trends." His accent was a deep Southern one.

You chuckled before speaking, "You, James Turner?" Your hands shuffled in that dark, puffy jacket, pulling out a picture of the man in front of you. 

"Who’s asking?" He got closer to you, and smelled like booze. 

You've shown him the photo now. "There’s a problem if someone did." You murdered someone, sir?" He could have the other night if your thesis was right. 

"I ain’t kill nobody, did I?" Bingo. James started to get a little scared, you could read it off his body language.

"Well, I heard a complaint about some gunfire, and when I asked around for you, I heard you shot something." Part of that was a lie, you didn't really ask, just lots of tabs closing at a bar. 

James looked like a child getting caught with their hand in a cookie jar; he was going to break. "Listen, somethin’ been stealing my animals. I was waiting to shoot it last night, then this big bird-like person dropped a sheep in the pen, and I shot at it."

Your face scrunched in confusion. "Why would you shoot something, dropping your sheep back off? And you said human-looking? You were going to just kill a person like that?" You took steps forward, and James kept backing up until both of you were in the house. 

"I jus wan-tah to catch em’ , Ay I don’t even think that was them! Something else was killing my animals, it was green and-and-and large, eyes like a bug." Tsk tsk James, the hole he dug just kept getting bigger.

You were so close in his space that he tripped into a seat. "So you shot something that you wanted to catch even though it helped you; it wasn’t even the creature that was killing! What were you going to do, James? When you caught it, that is." 

"I I I." He sure does stutter you noted, "I was gonna report it for stealing." 

You gripped the table, did it crunch? James questioned. "What’s the story, Turner? You said it gave back…" 

"You’re right It was, it was." He was sweating badly. 

"Good, so you understand that you committed attempted murder? Correct?" Your voice was deathly low. "It can be a pretty hefty sentence, James." 

He watched you move around his house, preparing a glass of water, before sitting across from him.

"I’m going to jail?" He looked on the verge of tears. 

You paused before speaking, a clicking sound filled your silence. "Yes, if you refuse to comply with me." You took a long sip of water, making Turner wait in anguish. "Heard you’re gonna set up cameras around this place, I want you to set up cameras around the woods, set up baits, get as much footage of this killing creature as you can, and hand all of the footage, pictures, and what you baited with to me. Sound simple?" 

"Course, anything yes, please, I jus don’t wanna go to jail." He nodded like a bobblehead.

"Perfect, and don’t think you can escape this; I've got all the information to make a court session last less than 10 minutes." You smiled and finished the glass. Quickly grabbing a pen and paper, you wrote one of your numbers and labeled it, 'Turn in footage work and info here' 

"Cya round James Turner." And just like that, after scaring this older male, you left, walking back to Nevermore. 

———————

This headache wanted to make Wednesday have a lobotomy or struck like Zeus to get Athena out. She could barely piece together the papers in front of her. Enid watched her struggle to work, pointing it out like always.

"What’s up with you? I feel like this is easy." 

"My head has been in pain since I had that vision, usually that doesn’t happen," Wednesday explained as she moved the sheets and note cards around the board. 

Enid knew that if the pain was really bothering her, this headache was something from hell. "Hm, do you want to take something? Or maybe take a break?" 

"I did; it got worse." Wednesday's face barely scrunched as she spoke. "I don’t need a break either." 

Thumps on the door broke the conversation; they both looked at each other, then Enid went to open it. 

You stood there with a toothy grin and said, "Hey Sinclair, where’s Wednesday?" 

"I don’t know if she would be up for a date, Y/n, she’s got a raging headache." Enid knew Wednesday stole from you, so she had to make somewhat of an excuse. 

You paused for a second. "I, uhm, no, I’m not here for that, she has something I ne-" 

Enid shut the door in your face and said, "They know!" Whisper yelling to the goth. All she did was nod and signal to let you in.

Enid slowly opened the door to let you in; once you did, Wednesday’s now migraine blared. She gripped the side table near her. 

"Evening Addams, I’m guessing you know why I’m here." You walked closer to her, maybe 5 inches away from her now. 

"Why," she paused to take a breath, "why do you have them?" 

You raised a brow and said, "I could ask the same." You whispered, getting closer to her ear. "You can get in trouble if you have them; I know how to take care of them." Also, you have a vision?" 

Wednesday wanted to make sure this wasn’t some fake whispering again, so she clutched the bottom of your shirt. For you, it seemed like desperation. She released you and went to take the papers.  

"Yes." Wednesday handed the papers back. Just like that, the pain was gone, and she could think straight now. 

"Doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?" This no-distance whispering with you was going to kill Wednesday; it made her feel sick again. 

She slowly nodded, and with that, you backed up and said your goodbyes, then left.

So many holes—how did you know about the papers? Where have you been all day? How did the vision connect with the headaches? How did you fix it? What trouble did you mean? Why do you have those papers? What were you going to do with it? Her loud thinking was blocked.

"So no more evidence?" Enid asked. 

"The bullet—I still have it."

"Well, it is like almost 12. Let’s look at it tomorrow. Also, who comes to someone’s door at 11? Also,  what did she tell you? I couldn’t hear, over the sound of you two practically making out with each other's whispering. Wait a minute, you didn’t even whisper; you just nodded. What was that about? Whatever, that's a question for tomorrow. I’m too tired, night Addams." Enid threw herself onto her bed and crashed to sleep. 

Wednesday, on the other hand, couldn’t do the same; she needed to get answers.

[tealmaskmybeloved]

Toxic Consequences AU: Chapter 7

An Ogre's Grief

TW FOR BLOOD, INJURIES, MILD GORE! Please look after yourself, and stay safe. Do not read if that triggers you. I tried to be as vague as possible to not extremely trigger people.

(As always, notes under the cut.)

Ogerpon's POV

It was like any other day. She went out to play and talk with the local Pokémon, found some cool fruits, and relaxed in the sun for a bit. Ogerpon even made her friend, Peregrine, a special pendant, made of amber and some string. Gifts like that were a symbol of companionship and trust in her kind.

When dusk came, she would head back to her cave where Peregrine resided.

Everyday, he would call out for her.

But not this time.

Confused, she entered her home to find it trashed, with the glittering masks gone.

Her friend was lying on the floor, badly wounded. He'd been bludgeoned and scratched by multplie Pokémon, lying in his own blood.

No... no..... not him!!!

She knelt as Peregrine handed her the Teal Mask. The only one not stolen....

"They took the other masks..... I could only protect one... I'm sorry..." He said, each breath getting weaker. Peregrine then handed over the pendant Ogerpon made for him.

Ogerpon tried to help her friend, but the damage was too great. There was nothing she could do. Peregrine gave a weak smile, and then rested his body on the ground, letting out one last breath.

Despite that, Ogerpon still tried gently moving him, desperate for him to still be alive, to move, to do something.... but it was fruitless.

Ogerpon wept, tears streaming down her face. But something boiled inside her.... Peregrine mentioned that the masks were stolen....

Who would do this?! Who did this?!

Enraged, Ogerpon donned the Teal Mask, and cudgel in hand, ran down to the village, to find the culprits.

A trio of greedy Pokémon and their leader were laughing and holding the stolen masks.

She knew she was outnumbered, but she was too heartbroken and furious to care.

Ogerpon fought them all.

First, the monkey went down. He was too preoccupied with the future to care about the present. He went down in a single strike at his back.

Then it was the bird. That one may look gorgeous, but their strength was not good. It took longer to finish off, but it wasn't that big of a deal.

Then, it was the dog. He lasted the longest. Ogerpon and him clashing, him thrashing and whipping his chain as an attack, her beating him with her Ivy Cudgel, the villagers screaming and running in terror.

Eventually, he, too, collapsed dead. His fur matted with blood.

The 3 were dead. But there was still one left.

Where was he? Where was their leader?!

Ogerpon cried out, her eyes scanning across the village, from the men holding spears to even a child holding a round pink plush. She was desperate to find their leader to avenge Peregrine.

But as she was looking, the people used their own Pokémon and weapons against her.

They killed my friend!  She wailed.  They stole my masks and killed him! Where's their leader?! She cried out as the villagers cornered her with weapons and their own Pokémon.

But alas, Ogerpon's cries of mourning and grief were mistaken for the terrifying wails of a monster.  She was driven out, forever loathed and despised by the people.

Those trio were seen as heroes, ones who had laid down their lives to keep the village safe.

She was alone.

Until she woke up.

She was okay. She had friends now.

The Lousy 3's leader is still out there, but at least Ogerpon had her new friends. While they may not replace her deceased partner, they can at least be there for her.

Restless, Ogerpon donned her Teal Mask and ventured out of the tent that her friends were in for the night, leaving her Ivy Cudgel behind. She gazed at the starry night sky, wondering if there was a universe out there where her friend was still there for her, even if he would've passed long ago.

The night breeze swayed the grass, brushing against her legs.

It was a gorgeous night, but even then, Ogerpon still felt uneasy. That monster, he was still out there. She knew that for certain. Even if that Pokémon was dead with the Loyal 3, there was another threat.

That boy... Kieran was his name. He always admired Ogerpon from a young age. He'd even go out to the Dreaden Den to bring her food. She didn't really eat sweets, but it was a nice gesture.

Despite Kieran's fondness for Ogerpon, she didn't want to go with him. She barely knew him, and he stole her mask, just like those Lousy 3.

But still, she felt bad. The kid just wanted a friend. Is he doing alright? Hopefully he's not mad...

She went out to where Kieran's house was. The least she could do was apologize. Upon scrambling to the window, there was no one in his room. Odd.... maybe he was camping like his sister was? But why would he do it alone?

Ogerpon was about to leave when she spotted something in Kieran's room. It was an item she'd remember until the end of time.

It was a Toxic Chain.

Her eyes widened behind her mask. No..... no....!

Ogerpon dashed into Kieran's room. It was rude to snoop, but she needed to confirm it. Sure enough, it was what she thought it was. The Toxic Chain was small, but Ogerpon knew of its power.

She had to warn the others! She had to!

Picking up the Toxic Chain.... Arceus, even do that made Ogerpon shudder, she left Kieran's house, jumping to the ground with an oomf.

Ogerpon hurried back to the camp, but was stopped when a familiar bird swooped in and stole the Toxic Chain from her.

She recognized that bird... Fezandipiti, it was called. The beauty of the trio. Always vain and had a hatred for anything prettier, it now had the Toxic Chain.

With a trill and a smug look, Fezandipiti flew off, leaving Ogerpon behind.

Ogerpon felt defeated. If only she had her cudgel, then she would make that bird regret coming back to life!

With the sun rising, Ogerpon headed back to camp, ready to warn her friends.

This chapter made me crying writing it, so um do with that what you will.

I wanted to write Ogerpon's whole view on the custody battle with Kieran and why she didn't want to go with him.

And yes, I gave Ogerpon's partner a name.

[glorf1ndel]

You Remind Me of My Brother (~900 words, gen)

For Day 1 of @tolkiengenweek, inspired by the prompt "mentorship." Peregrin Took, as seen through Boromir and Faramir's eyes. Or: the time Pippin kicked Boromir's ass.

Read on Ao3 or below!

In early January of the year 3019, on an outcrop deep in the wilds, Peregrin Took and Boromir spar on the long journey to Mordor. The rest of the Fellowship is eating breakfast, but Pippin is anxious to learn the art of swordsmanship. Besides, he’s already scarfed down three helpings of rabbit. When Boromir knocks the hobbit down for the third time in a row, Pippin almost regrets eating. (Almost.) He leaps to his feet and brushes himself off, ready to try again.

Boromir lands another blow, and Pippin falls to the ground.

“This is ridiculous. I could kick Boromir’s ass,” Pippin whispers to Merry – a bit too loudly, because Boromir himself bursts out laughing and says,

“With a little more practice.”

Pippin swerves around.

“Oh, you don’t think I can do it, can you?” He asks, then bats at Boromir’s leg with his wooden sword. “Take that!”

Boromir, to his credit, collapses, still chucking. Merry rolls his eyes, but he, too, is smiling. Pippin extends a hand to Boromir in triumph, helping him to his feet.

“You have a determined heart, Pippin of the Shire,” Boromir marvels. “In fact, you remind me of my brother.”

“Really?” Pippin beams. “What’s he like?”

“His name is Faramir. He is a good warrior, but what he is best known for among the soldiers of Gondor is his desire to better himself. As a child, he constantly sought our father’s approval. I think he still does,” Boromir says with a sigh. “Our father is… Not the most reassuring man. He appreciates strength, not effort, and he has always gone out of his way to make that clear to Faramir.”

Pippin purses his lips, brow furrowed in thought.

“But what is significant about my brother,” Boromir continues, “Is that he is always striving to do more, to be more. He longs to live up to our father’s expectations, but more than that, his goal is to look in the mirror and feel proud of himself. That’s what makes him a person of quality.”

At this, Pippin nods.

“I think I understand,” he says. “Your brother never gives up.”

“That’s right. It’s why I admire him so.”

“I hope I can meet him someday,” Pippin muses. “And when I do, I’ll tell him all about the time I beat you in a fight.”

“Will you?” Boromir grins. “Then you’d better keep practicing!”

As it turns out, their practices are cut short, and neither of them makes it to Mordor.

After Amon Hen, Pippin mourns Boromir. Continuing the Fellowship’s journey feels wrong when they’ve lost a fellow. Aragorn explains that such is the nature of grief, a hole in one’s life that expands and contracts but never goes away. Pippin has never felt an emotion as big as this before –

Until he gazes into the Palantír and sees the Eye, and he understands fear. Pippin tells the enemy nothing, save for a constant plea to get out of his head. (And a few choice curse words.) Still, the disappointment in Gandalf’s eyes is evident, so when the wizard insists that Pippin travel with him to Minas Tirith, what can the hobbit do but oblige? Besides, Pippin is curious about the capital of Gondor, and it’s not the same sort of curiosity that drove him to look into the Palantír.

Minas Tirith, Pippin thinks, was Boromir’s home.

When Pippin meets Faramir, he sees the truth of Boromir’s words: his brother is determined, and their father, the Steward of Gondor, doesn’t appreciate him. Gandalf doesn’t know what possesses Pippin to pledge his allegiance to Denethor, but Pippin sees the sad look in the man’s eyes, and Aragorn’s words resound inside his head: grief never goes away.

The war goes on. Pippin continues to train. He walks beside Faramir as Guard of the Citadel, and he befriends this man whose gaze is an echo of Boromir’s: softer, but fierce at its core.

Then the siege of the city begins, and Denethor goes mad. Pippin stands in the funeral chamber, unsettled. He knows what it’s like to feel an all-consuming feeling – but when he sees Denethor climb onto the pyre and the guards drag Faramir’s body into the chamber, he realizes that something is wrong. For Pippin can see the rise and fall of Faramir’s chest, weak though his breathing is. Would Denethor take himself and his only living son to the grave?

“No,” Pippin sobs, clawing at Denethor’s robes. “Don’t do this to yourself. He’s alive – he’s alive!”

Pippin is promptly kicked out of the chamber, but he doesn’t yield. Gandalf will know what to do,he thinks. Sure enough, with the wizard’s help, Pippin rescues Faramir. They are unable to do the same for Denethor, and the sight of him on fire, running toward his own destruction, burns itself into Pippin’s mind more deeply than the image of the Eye ever could.

Days pass. Pippin does not leave Faramir’s bedside until he wakes. The hobbit has been more loyal to Faramir than anyone else in the man’s life, save for Boromir. Yet Pippin still does not expect it when Faramir opens his eyes, smiles at the sight of him, and murmurs,

“You, Peregrin Took, remind me of my brother.”

Pippin laughs – he even cries, a little – and then he says,

“Well, then. Let me tell you about the time I kicked his ass.”

****

Thank you for reading. ♡ If you'd like, leave a comment or kudos on Ao3, or like and reblog this post!

[welcome-to-my-bullshitery]

Things that i've noticed that no one ever talks about in LoTR

This is a huge post by the way so im putting it under a cut

you have been warned

TFotR - Book 1

'A day or two later a rumor (probably started by the knowledgeable SAM) YES. SAMWISE GAMGEE. OUR LITTLE CINNAMON ROLL STARTED A RUMOR. idk it's so funny to me

The entire paragraph about hobbits and gift giving is too ADORABLE.

Bilbo put INSTRUMENTS in PARTY CRACKERS. AND LIKE NEW ONES.

Bilbo calling Gandalf 'an interfering old busybody'

Bilbo: "You'll keep an eye on Frodo, won't you?" Gandalf: "Two eyes as often as I can spare them."

All the gifts Bilbo gave out and they all had meaning AND ITS ADORABLE

Lobelia, to Frodo: "...you're no Baggins - you - you're a Brandybuck!" Frodo: "Did you hear that Merry? That was an insult if you like." Meriadoc (Merry) BRANDYBUCK: "It was a compliment, and so, of course, not true."

Gandalf, shoving his head through Frodo's WINDOW: "If you don't let me in, Frodo, I SHALL BLOW YOUR DOOR RIGHT DOWN YOUR HOLE AND OUT THROUGH THE HILL."

That one Hobbit who had seen Ents IN CHAPTER TWO. HAL. HAL SAW ENTS AND IT WAS MENTIONED IN CHAPTER TWO. TWO.

"Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?" GANDALF. WHAT THE FUCK.

Sam, freaking tf out about just being caught 'dropping eaves' by Gandalf: "DON'T LET HIM HURT ME MR. FRODO!" Frodo, hardly able to keep from laughing: "He won't hurt you."

Sam being all excited about being able to go on the adventure and then he just. bursts into tears. like.

Gildor (AN ELF) calling Frodo ELF FRIEND. ITS TOO CUTE.

Frodo, in elvish: Thanks for the food :). The Elves: HERE IS A JEWEL AMONG HOBBITS

Pippin just flat out saying he didn't want to leave Frodo any food but Sam insisted.

Frodo, about who's taking a bath first: "Eldest or Quickest first? You'll be last either way PIPPIN." GEE

Pippin, talking about Sam: He would jump down a dragons throat to save you, if he did not trip over his own feet." GEE

The ridiculous bath song. And it's Bilbos favorite. Of course it's ridiculous if it was Bilbos favorite.

Gandalf, writing in a letter to Frodo: If he forgets, I shall roast him. Frodo, four seconds later: He deserves roasting.

Sam getting mad at Ferny or someone and throwing an apple at him. AND AFTER IT KNOCKS THE IDIOT FERNY SQUARE IN THE FACE AND HE FALLS DOWN CURSING SAM JUST GOES "Waste of a good apple." AND KEEPS WALKING.

Sam, an intellectual: "What do they live on when they can't get hobbit?" AND REFUSED TO CALL THEM THEIR ACTUAL NAME AND JUST CALLS THEM 'NEEKERBREEKERS' BECAUSE ITS THE SOUND THEY MAKE

They found the trolls from The Hobbit. About the middle of Chapter 12, Flight to the Ford. The whole group thought they were real until they saw they were actually stone.

Frodo, after discovering more about Sam: "He'll end up by becoming a wizard - or a warrior!" Sam: "I don't want to be neither." OF COURSE YOU DON'T YOU JUST WANNA LIVE IN THE SHIRE AND GARDEN ALL YOUR LIFE. OH SAM.

TFotR - Book 2

At the very beginning of chapter 1 - PF COURSE SAM WAS ALWAYS THERE AND OF COURSE HE HAD TO BE TOLD TO GO AWAY AND REST. YOU ADORABLE LITTLE SHIT.

Frodo calling the Big People 'Big and rather stupid' Accurate though.

Sam holding Frodo's hand and then blushing and thEN JUST SAYS 'It's warm! Meaning your hand, Mr. Frodo. It has felt so cold through the long nights!" SAM YOU GAY LITTLE SHIT I LOVE YOU.

Aragorn: Gollum is safely kept by the Elves of Mirkwood. Legolas: *sweats*

Elrond, to Sam: "It is hardly possible to separate you from him (Frodo) even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not!" Sam, blushing (ITS SAYS IT IN THE BOOK THE LAST SENTENCES OF COUNCIL OF ELROND): "A nice pickle we have ourselves in, Mr. Frodo!" Me: Does Samwise is gay? Does SamwISE IS GAY??

Pippin, hasn't even done anything remotely wrong yet: "There must be someone with intelligence in this party!" Gandalf: "Then you most certainly won't be chosen, Peregrin Took!" Pippin: D:

Gimli: "His (Sauruman's) arm has grown long indeed if he can draw snow down from the north to trouble us here three hundred leagues away." Gandalf, channeling his inner sassy bitch(bilbo): "His arm has grown long."

>TBC im not even close to being done yet< ^^

[introut]

*     ◟    :    〔   theo james,      cis man    +   he/him    〕      louis dumas  ,      some say you’re a  forty years old   lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both  energetic  and  impetuous,  one can’t help but think of  sick boy  by   chainsmokers  when you walk by.    are you still a    board member / replicant  at    family business / stoneage industries,     even with your reputation as the pawn?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and    tapping of a champagne glass to address an empty room, cold hands pressed against hot cheeks, feet propped up on the desk as he gossips through the office intercom,    although we can’t help but think of logan delos (westworld), roman roy (succession), tyrell wellick (mr. robot),    whenever we see you down these rainy streets.   

PROGRAMMED INFORMATION:

name: louis peregrine dumas. age: forty. date of birth: 12th april. gender: cis man. sexual orientation: heterosexual. occupation: board member @ dumacorp, director @ ld capital. status: commissioned replicant ( stoneinc ). residence: manhattan, nyc. family: perry dumas ( father, ceo @ dumacorp. ), harriet dumas ( mother, dead ), eva dumas ( half-sister, alive ), five other siblings ( dead ).

tw abuse, murder

SUMMARY

louis is a replicant that was secretly commissioned by his father, perry, after he murdered his own son in a fit of rage. they hated each other more than they loved each other and argued about a lot of things, but what lead to this was louis' hatred for replicants and thus waging a war against his family in the boardroom by preventing the company from investing in stoneage and paid the ultimate price. with louis, now living by a written code, the investment is approved. to avoid suspicions, and much to perry's dismay, this humanoid is written to be everything louis was: a flippant, heartless bastard with a hard on for corporate america. it would kill him, to know what he's become. to be stuck as the son a father can never love, never being able to grow past the need for approval, a replicant that can be born again and again. how many versions of louis have there been where perry doesn't raise his hand? ... [0]

BACKGROUND

BEFORE

a cursed house births a cursed bloodline.

after the dead of his mother, his father is consumed with hatred towards the world that took her. maddened with grief, he'll finish what they started together by building an empire. new money comes with new desires.

one by one, their family shrinks. louis has been to more funerals than his own birthday parties, and he doesn't think he'll live past thirty.

he lives recklessly and selfishly. he is a problem to those that listens, and he is a pain to those that don't. and yet, no one seems to pay attention. why would they? he's a court jester raised by wolves.

it's unfortunate, for both him and his father, that he becomes the sole heir of a company that ruined the country.

he wages a war against his family in the boardroom. through gritted teeth, he ensures that the company never invests in stonage inc. it was personal, not business. finally! people were listening to him. even his father sought him out, more than he's ever done before.

the idea of replicants repulsed him. the future wrote itself. they would all be replaced. what would then become of all the tech ventures he was funding? the medical devices with his name on it that would send ripples through markets? what would become of him, if not a laughing stock?

he did what he did to protect himself. however, in the eyes of his father, it was one step too far. in a fit of rage, perry dumas bludgeons his son to death with a golf club.

he is not stricken with grief of guilt but with fear -- the end of his bloodline. what would happen to his empire?

AFTER

perry finds out about his med tech ventures. one device, which had made perry laugh, was a soul transplant. louis kept an audio diary, answering questions and logging his thoughts, which would ultimately be used to create the code for his replicant.

and so, he is brought back to life. but to everyone else, it was just another stint in rehab. the board passes the resolution to invest in stoneage inc. and the company are one of the biggest supporters of replicants.

louis, trapped in a different type of code, marred by the imprints of his origins, is brought back as a replicant, over and over again. whether it's perry, who has learned there are no more consequences to his actions, or other people, who have noticed something's different about him.

so far, he is a mirror image of the louis that once lived. he campaigns against his own kind ... despicably, fruitlessly, and obediently.

he will do his father's bidding, with the sharks at wall street or washington, so the liability cannot be tied back to the family.

once perry is satisfied with his succession plans and deem louis to be of no use he will be terminated.

tw animal abuse

HEADCANONS

dumacorp. is a family investment business that controls the news and spend a lot of money on lobbyists

louis struggled with ignored and untreated alcohol and substance abuse. his replicant was designed to sense the stimulants and react in the same way.

the medical devices he was funding were being tested on animals - they've all liquidated now and a lot of people are angry with him

he is dan egan eating a sandwich in front of a homeless man

can't stress this enough but rancid rancid vibes

he never used to cry before but his replicant cries now, because there were several voice recordings of louis breaking down, and he hates it

[moonrainbowfish]

Matchup for @smelly-fozzy

I ship you with:

Peregrin Took!

This goofball literally adores you! And how could he not?! You are amazing and clever, even if you don't think so about yourself. Pippin is always there to remind how beautiful and magnificent you truly are.

Your purple hair is astounding to him, at first he thinks it's magic until you explained to him it's just a normal thing for people to dye their hair where you're from.

He matured a lot during the war of the ring, he stopped stealing from Farmer Maggot, but he still got that endearing, albeit childish side to him. He really would love to hear what you have to say about folklore and mythology, literally please tell him anything you know, seeing that spark in your eyes when you speak about your interest really makes Pippin happy. He adores making you smile.

He'd even be interested in your cross stitching, but knowing if he'd ever tried it, the result would be hm... let's say unfortunate.

There would be a height difference of about a foot between you, since after Pippin drank the ent drought he grew a lot and is now the tallest hobbit to ever have lived, along with Merry. If you'd give him a kiss on the forehead, he would simply melt like ice in sunshine. 

His friend and cousin Merry would always pester him with questions about you and encouraging him to talk to you more. You made Pippin quite flustered, but his other hobbit friends would try to motivate him.

One sunny spring day he even invited you to eat dinner with his family. They welcomed you with open arms and his mother Eglantine marveled at what a beauty you were and was very much happy, her only son had found someone whom he truly loved. His father Paladin looked like he was already planning the wedding for you two inside his head.

As you ate, Pippin and you often glanced bashfully into eachothers eyes, making his 3 sisters giggle and whisper to themselves, much to Pippin's irritation, but they are just equally as happy for him, as the rest of his family.

Then one day the faithful day came, when Pippin proposed to you. It was a beautiful summer day and he prepared a delicious picnic for you both. And of course you said yes, making Pippin eyes beamed with joy and then sharing a passionate kiss.

Small Scene:

The birds were chirping and the sun was shining. The perfect day for a picnic, with your beloved Pippin. He'd prepared a small feast of several sandwiches, small cakes and some drinks all laying in a brown basket on a blanket. Everything was perfect. You both ate some food and laughed together, enjoying the company, but after a while you both went quiet, laying on the blanket and watching the clouds on the bright blue sky go by.

Suddenly Pippin spoke up, "I don't know how I'm going to do this, but I've been really meaning to ask you something."

"You can ask me anything Pip. I've known you for years," you softly replied to your Hobbit lover.

"It's just that I've known you for so long and we've been together for a while, I know but everytime I see you I still get so flustered and I-!"

You stopped his nervous rambling, quickly shushed him and put your finger on his lips. Pippin looked at you with a bewildered expression, which turned calm only a few seconds after.

You pulled your finger away and said "My dear Hobbit. There's no need to get nervous around me. Just say what you want to say. I won't judge."

Pippin may be a little troublemaker sometimes, especially before he set out to save Middle-Earth with his fellow hobbit friends, Merry, Frodo and Sam. But it was honestly very adorable to you, seeing him get so shy and blushing around you, even if he'd basically saved the world and you two had been officially courting a little over 3 years now.

You saw the look on Pippin's face get determined, as if he'd was gathering up all of his courage, he cleared his throat and blurted out,

"Will you make me the happiest hobbit alive and do the honor of marrying me?"

You were nearly crying after hearing him declare those words, you've actually been wanting to hear them for a while.

"Without a single doubt! Yes yes Pippin! I will marry you!" you cheered and smiled brightly at your beloved.

"Well can I-... can I kiss you now?" he asked bashfully, his whole face was heating up, but not because of the sun.

"Oh Pippin, sweet Pippin. Of course you can! It's not like we've never kissed before."

After your reassurance, you both put your lips against eachother in a sweet, passionate kiss. Pulling apart to look into one another's eyes lovingly. You were certain your marriage with Pippin would be one of the best things to happen in your life.

Then the day finally came! Your wedding was big, I mean Pippin's family is rich so they could affort such a large, meaningful event. So many people were invited. Friends, aunts, uncles, cousins, you name it! Everybody was having a great time, eating cake, dancing and wishing the newlyweds all the best and lots of luck.

The evening was sealed off with a colorful display of Gandalf's best and brightest fireworks. Hobbits do take their marriage very seriously and when they do fall in love, they fall with their whole heart and Gandalf was more then happy to provide his fireworks for your big day. He still kept a close eye on Merry and your now husband Pippin, as if he'd expect them to steal one of his fireworks again. But after all, with you as Pippin's spouse nothing could go wrong. You really adored your hobbit husband dearly and he loved you just as much.

You spend many years living together in your own hobbit hole, which had to be build was a bit taller, due to your height. Pippin loved you so much and would you support you in anything you do. And the both of you lived happily ever after and ate lots of second breakfast.

[thatonespriteobsessedbitch]

Control (chap 12)

(Freya POV, 1111 words lol)

(previously called please stop, you're scaring me)

chapter 1 chapter 11

I was helping Noch with his bag when I heard the doorbell ring.

We both softly put it down on the ground by the top of the stairs and slipped down to stand on the landing with the others.

“Miss Peregrine, what a pleasure to meet you at last. May we come in?” 

Who the fuck thought they could just waltz up to the door and boss Miss P around like—

Holy shit it’s Barron.

Miss P stepped back from the door slowly.

“Children! Would you make your way down the stairs, please?”

Like hell, I’m doing that .

I saw Noch gently grab Claire’s shoulder to keep her from walking toward the Wight.

“I give the orders in this house, Mr Barron,” Miss P all but snarled.

“Not today, you should know that Jake has served his purpose. If you value his life, I’d suggest everyone does as they’re told. Children! ”

I kept my arms behind my back as I started to pull off my gloves.

“Shush! No one tells my children what to do.”

I passed the gloves to Noch and he took them, squeezing my wrist softly as he did so.

I took three steps down, trying my best not to touch any other peculiars.

“Freya!” Claire hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Stay here, Claire, and don’t interfere, no matter what happens.”

“Children,” Miss P continued, “Come down here, please.”

We all slowly walked down the stairs, me in front of the group.

“Miss Peregrine, I—”

“I thought I told you to be quiet.”

If this were any other situation, Barron’s face would have made me laugh.

“Children, for Mr Portman’s safety, we’re going to do what Mr Barron asks.

“He wishes to take me with him to his rendezvous in Blackpool, so for his protection, he’d like me to assume bird form, preferably caged. He’d like you to make your way into a lockable room such as the parlour, as he won’t release Mr Portman if he fears an attack could be mounted upon him if he loses his leverage. Correct, Mr Barron?”

He stuttered for a moment. “You forgot but one thing, you—” he pointed to me “will come and join Jake here as leverage.”

“Freya—”

“I’ll be fine, Enoch.”

I went and stood beside Barron and he grabbed my wrists to try and keep me from using my peculiarity, not knowing he was playing directly into my hands.

“You’re sacrificing yourself and all of us for Jacob? ” Enoch asked, bewildered.

“Mr Barron travels with a hollow, Mr O’Connor. Once it arrives here we’re all dead.”

For once, instead of not trusting my peculiarity, I was and, in doing so, I was putting the lives of everyone around me in danger if I couldn’t control it.

Slowly, I gave my fear and my rage over to my peculiarity to do what it wanted with the only limit being “Don’t hurt the others.”

I felt that side jump with joy over its freedom. For the first time in ninety-odd years, it was free to do as it pleased and it had my trust. I was placing my life into its hands and letting it have free reign over itself.

It felt liberating, not having that weight on my shoulders.

Even if my peculiarity could manage it, Barron would not suffer a peaceful death. Not for all the pain he had caused.

From what I could tell in all three situations when I lost control prior to this moment, my peculiarity did not cause a painless death. There was no simple stopping of the heart.

No, from what I could tell, it was as if every nerve was on fire, your bones feeling like they were breaking under the strain of your body only for them to still be intact, muscle pain ten times that of the average aches of a day.

I could feel the exact moment the pain started hitting him. He gasped softly as the others all made their way into the parlour.

Before long, he was doubled over in pain, having long since released Jacob and I. 

I twisted around and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to the ground.

I realized that my peculiarity was reacting to my fear and rage and it was trying to protect me by hurting what it thought was the source of my pain. It had been doing this since I first discovered my peculiarity at the ripe age of thirteen. 

I had always privately thought that my peculiarity changed in toxicity levels based on my emotions. Millie and the wards in my old loop died much, much faster than my sister did, with Millie dying within five minutes, the wards in two and my sister somewhere between eight to ten hours.

I had no doubt that Barron would die faster than all of them.

I distantly heard, as if through water, Claire screaming at me, “Freya! Please stop you’re scaring me!”

Enoch was grabbing my hand that wasn’t pinning Barron to the ground and was trying to get me to come back, to swim through the fogginess and return to the present. Or, well, the loop.

I only jolted back when the front door slammed open and a Wight burst through the doors.

Unfortunately for us, Barron had an accomplice who was waiting just outside the entire time and, since Barron was a tad bit busy dying a painful death, had come to finish the task.

I noticed the gun too late as he caught sight of me holding down Barron as he convulsed on the hardwood floor.

He, quite rudely, to be honest, shot me in the shoulder, making me let go of Barron to clutch at my wound.

“Alright, ya brats,” he drawled in a thick southern American accent, “git in thair, ‘fore I shoot ya bird lady. And youuuu,” he said pointing to Miss P, “betta hop yer ass into whateva bird ya turn inta and git in tha damn cage.” He rattled said cage for emphasis.

Once again, if it were any other situation, I would have laughed.

Beyond laughed, I would have died laughing.

I could see in Miss P’s face that she wishes she could find some way of disobeying him but he had already made it clear that he was not scared to hurt children, as much as it pained me to think of myself that way, to further his agenda.

She stood by the door to the parlour and said goodbye to all of us as her wards.

“It’s been my privilege to be your headmistress. Goodbye, children.”

The door shut with a gentle click but to me, it felt deafening.

chapter 13

[fanficwriting1]

A Tale of Smoke and Flame Chapter 2

Note: So, I realized that I had posted chapter 3 as chapter 2, so this is to rectify that mistake. Here is the actual chapter 2, I hope you enjoy! (and sorry again for the wrong posting!)

Bilbo sat in his study, fiddling with the quill between his fingers, his brow creased. Sighing as he stared at the half written letter, he placed the quill down and stood.

He peered out his study window, one that looked directly into his garden, he watched as two small faunts clambered over his fence and quickly made their way to his tomato plants, each plucking one before there was a shout and Hamfast was there, shouting as the faunts quickly made their exit, bolting towards the fence and getting over it far more quickly than they had before. 

Bilbo smiled as Hamfast caught sight of him, waving as the gardner gestured towards the way the faunts went. Bilbo shook his head, and Hamfast tossed his hands up in exasperation before heading back towards the plants he’d been tending. 

Bilbo chuckled before heading out of his study to his kitchen where he made two lemonades before heading outside. 

Hamfast was muttering to himself as Bilbo made his way to him, jolting when Bilbo pressed the cool glass against his cheek. 

“Mr. Bilbo!” Hamfast pulled his gloves off as he accepted the glass from Bilbo. “You really ought to punish those faunts, Mr. Bilbo.”

Bilbo shrugged. “They do no harm, I have plenty of tomatoes and they only ever take one or two.”

“It only starts that way, Mr. Bilbo! Soon they’ll be taking entire bushes!”

“And you know this from experience?” Bilbo teased. 

Hamfast flushed as he turned back to finish his lemonade. 

Bilbo could recall fondly the time he’d found a small Hamfast buried in his tomato plants, red juice covering his mouth and multiple tomatoes piled in his lap, his small hands cradling a massive tomato with large chunks gone. 

Bilbo recalled that day with a fondness similar to the affection he felt towards all that lived and resided within the Shire. Though there had been many disputes within the Shire between families and many arguments that were by far blown out of proportion, Bilbo loved the Shire. 

“Hey! Mr. Bilbo!” 

Bilbo turned towards the voice. A young Peregrin Took stood with a gaggle of friends behind him. Meriadoc Brandybuck held a stick that was nearly as tall as himself, Frodo Baggins had some kind of moss over his face to resemble a beard, and Samwise Gamgee stood timidly in the back. 

Bilbo laughed. “Come to hear another story?” 

“Aye, we came for the next part!” 

The faunts pushed into the yard, nearly stumbling over themselves to get to Bilbo, eagerly settling down on the grass. These four particular faunts had a fascination with the stories of Bilbo’s adventures and quests, he had to ensure that what he told them was edited for their young ears - despite having permission from the parents of all four to tell them his tales - despite Bilbo’s overarching fondness of the Shire, and their fondness of him, it did not always extend to his stories, understandably. Many of his stories were not appropriate even in their edited form. 

“Where did we end?”

“You were about to slay the King of the Goblins!” Pippin shouted, brandishing his stick.

“Ah, yes. The King of the Goblins. He was a large and hideous being and at least four times the height of a hobbit. He looked at me with his glazed eyes, red with anger. He lifted himself from his great throne of bone, made from the skulls of his vanquished enemies, and began to lumber toward me. I had goblins to my back, their spears jabbing into me if I stepped back, and goblins at my sides, who would attempt to bite me if I leaned in their direction. So there I stood in their midst, unable to move with the King of the Goblins walking towards me.” 

The faunts leaned in close, their faces a mix of enrapture and fear. 

“‘One more chance I shall give you,’ I called to the King, ‘Tell me where my treasure is, and I shall leave.’ But the King laughed wickedly, so I raised my blade and charged. As hobbits, we may not be the best fighters, but we are quick on our feet, which is how I was able to get about him and slay him, landing a blow deep into his heart. But because of the heavy King and the instability of the bridges, we slipped, and we fell.”

Gasps came from the faunts, as well as Hamfast, who’d become engrossed with Bilbo’s story.

“What happened next?” Samwise breathed.

Bilbo grinned. “The slain King of the Goblins got stuck in the tight rocks, due to his large stature, but I continued my plummet, falling near to the very bottom of the mountain.”

“How’d you survive?” Merridoc asked.

“With his foolish luck.” an elderly voice said from behind the faunts. 

The faunts scrambled up at the sound of that voice, and immediately charged at the gray wizard.

“Gandalf!” Frodo cried, reaching Gandalf the quickest. 

Chuckling, the wizard picked the young faunt up, eyeing the moss secured to his face. “And who are you pretending to be?”

“Isnit obvious?” Pippin said loudly. “He’s you! Every company has to have a wizard!”

“Is that so?” Gandalf hummed. “And who is the leader of this company?”

“That’d be me!” Pippin puffed his chest out. 

Gandalf gave him a scrutinizing look. "I would urge that when you select a company leader, you would choose the most responsible of the group."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pippin asked.

Bilbo smiled as the faunts entertained themselves with Gandalf, before calming down once more to turn to him.

"Continue the story, Mister Baggins!" Merridoc cried.

“Unfortunately, we’ll have to stop there. I need to have a conversation with that old fellow behind you.” 

The faunts complained loudly, but obediently left, not down for too long, as could be heard by their high-pitched cries of being ‘off to slay to Goblin King’ and ‘rescue Mister Bilbo from the goblins’. 

Gesturing Gandalf towards his smial and to enter inside. Gandalf ran into the lighting fixture like clockwork, and as Gandalf obviously fought the urge to tear the lighting fixture from the ceiling, Bilbo led him to his study, where he sat down at his seat once more. “What have you come here for?”

Gandalf settled himself in a man-sized chair that Bilbo kept in his study for times like these. “My dear fellow, I have come to offer you a proposition.”

“Gandalf, I have explicitly told you that I will no longer go on your quests - they have been pointless in my searches.”

“I know that the previous quests I had advised you to go on proved fruitless, but I do believe that your kind are rallying for this cause. I have heard the whispers.” 

Bilbo paused from his writings, glancing back up at the Wizard. Threading his fingers together, he nodded for Gandalf to continue. 

“You are well aware of the taking of the Lonely Mountain by Smaug?”

“Of course.”

“There is a group of dwarrow that wish to retake their mountain, an effort in which I support.”

“I don’t see this requiring me. If the dwarrow are sufficiently prepared to take on Smaug, they should have no struggles. The curse still has an effect on all of us. Even without it, Smaug is still a weak fire-drake.”

Gandalf shook his head. “Despite their best efforts, these dwarrow are lacking in both warriors and preparation. Due to their circumstances, they are unable to muster the strength needed. Yet, they are determined to reclaim their home.” 

Bilbo sighed. “Be as it may, Gandalf, I do not see this to be a cause that will benefit me. I am sorry, but I will not accompany these dwarrow.”

There was a long silence as Bilbo stood up from his seat before Gandalf spoke again. “Smaug is the son of Raldag.”

An explosion of rage thrummed through his body at the mention of that name, sitting back down. “I was unaware that Raldag sired known blood.” he growled.

“It is not a known fact, I uncovered a very old record during my research in which it spoke of Raldag with a very vague reference to his son.”

Bilbo fought to quell his anger. “His relation to Raldag isn’t enough to move me - it will not move my kind.”

“Smaug carries with him the dragon-core of Raldag.”

Bilbo stilled. His dragon-core throbbed, releasing a burst of heat through his body. He gritted his teeth as smoke escaped his mouth. “Impossible - his core was shattered long ago in battle.”

“That had been my belief as well, and it would have continued to be so, if I had not seen and heard of the movement of foul creatures and beasts toward the mountain. They are gathering strength, and I fear that they are close to completing their purpose.”  

“While the purpose of the quest is known to the dwarves as an attempt to reclaim their mountain, it shall serve another - the removal and destruction of Raldag’s dragon-core. I have complete assurity that you shall meet those you’ve sought on this quest.”

Bilbo sat in silence. Gandalf had often told him about these quests and the possibility of meeting those he’d been searching for all these centuries, but over and over he’d been left with nothing but disappointment. 

This had been the first quest that had anything to do with dragons, and he knew that if Raldag truly had any association with it, then there was no doubt as to finding another of his kind.

“What have you told these dwarrow my purpose is?”

Gandalf smiled. “A burglar.”

It certainly wasn’t the worst position Gandalf had before given Bilbo, but it certainly wasn’t a good one. Closing his eyes in exasperation, Bilbo waved Gandalf away. “Go ahead and tell the dwarrow they’ve secured their burglar.”

[butcher7predator]

Julia was a 14 year old girl with messy brown hair and green eyes ,but there was one thing that made her different from all the other girls, she had hormonal disorder, something called "Gigantism", she was about 2 meters(6'6 ft) tall with broad shoulders and long hands. Even though she looked dangerous and big she was actually a rather calm and quiet girl, who was afraid of people and the outside world. Other kids at school were much shorter than her. Sometimes she would push someone harder on accident because she was stronger and bigger but she didn't want to hurt anyone, that was just because of her size and she couldn't control it, but the others didn't want to listen to her. They were afraid of Julia and they even made fun of her, they made her feel like a monster. They called Julia a bunch of different names like: "Butcher", "The giant", "Grizzly" but the most popular name was "Monster". Her parents never wanted her so she lived with her grandfather Peregrine. He was soldier in WW2 so naturally Julia wanted to be a soldier just like her grandfather..... Peregrine liked to lock Julia in the basement to "punish" her but the truth is he just hated her, it was because he hated his son David, Julia's father. When David was younger he used to make a lot of trouble and was a burden to his father, so when Julia was born he didn't want anything to do with her. Peregrine was mad because his son was so negligent and he hated his own daughter, but Peregrine didn't like taking care of her and spending his money on her. It was unfair, none of it was Julia's fault. Peregrine's basement had a lot of old books about mythological monsters. Julia could really relate to them, monsters were big and people were scared of them, and so was Julia. She would always notice how people were looking at her, they were scared of her big figure and they would keep their children away from her when they saw her on street even if she did nothing wrong and wasn't aggressive towards anyone. "Just like the monsters from the books" she thought to herself. The next week Julia's school had a performance in which Julia was forced to be. She walked onto the stage and was full of hope that she'll do her role the best she can and that maybe she'll impress her classmates. She was on the stage with heart full of hope that something would change but...when she showed herself the kids from her class and other people in the audience started laughing and throwing stuff at her, some of the parents even started to comment on her looks. The girl lost her temper and she whispered "So they don't like me? Heh.. I can't be pretty? Okay then I'll be scary, I'll show them the real meaning of being a monster..". She left the school yard and ran into the woods with an axe in her hands, she knew there were a lot of wolves there . She waited and waited and then she heard a wolf growling behind her "Oh, good, there you are.." she thought to herself and in one swing of the axe she killed the wolf. When Julia picked up the wolf's body she came into Peregrine's old workshop. Inside she found some old pliers and hammer and with them, she took out the wolf's teeth and put them in as her new teeth :). Later that night her grandfather noticed that she wasn't in the house and that his old uniform disappeared. He walked into his workshop to find Julia but the only thing he saw was a pool of blood on the table and the corpse of a toothless wolf on the floor. "What did that brat do in here?" He said, he was terrified of this horrific scene. Suddenly he felt someone wrap their fingers around his neck from behind. The grip on his neck grew tighter and tighter, Peregrine started to cough and swear but person didn't let him go. He somehow managed to turn around and when he did he saw the worst thing in his life, it was his granddaughter with a disgusting smile on her face with her new teeth showing, he asked "Julia what's wrong with your teeth and why are you wearing my uniform?"...

"It just suits me better" She said and she finally strangled Peregrine to death. The next day, David, Julia's father, came to beg his daughter for forgiveness but all he found was a dead man on the floor. He looked at the gruesome scene so he turned around and never went back.

[teenageread]

Review: Under the Never Sky

Synopsis:

WORLDS KEPT THEM APART.

DESTINY BROUGHT THEM TOGETHER.

Aria has lived her whole life in the protected dome of Reverie. Her entire world confined to its spaces, she's never thought to dream of what lies beyond its doors. So when her mother goes missing, Aria knows her chances of surviving in the outer wasteland long enough to find her are slim.

Then Aria meets an outsider named Perry. He's searching for someone too. He's also wild—a savage—but might be her best hope at staying alive.

If they can survive, they are each other's best hope for finding answers.

Plot:

Aria needs to know what happened to her mother. Leaving her to go to Bliss, another pod, Aria lost contact with her mother when Aether struck Bliss. Wanting to go to her, Aria and her friends break out of their dome to attempt the journey to Bliss where something went wrong as Soren, her friend, attacked her and was going to kill her if an Outsider had not intervened to save her. Rescued by her people, Aria thought Consul Hess would believe her when she said she had no idea who the outsider was, or why Soren, Hess’s son, would attack her. Taking her to her mother, Hess sends Aria to the outside world, the Death Shop, as her people knew it, locking her out of her eyepiece which can prove that Soren attacked her, and the last message from her mother. Doomed for death, Aria struggled in surviving Aether and was lucky when she ran into the Outsider who saved her. Peregrine, or Perry, was in no mood to help a Mole. Outcast by his own tribe, Perry was on a mission to save Talon, his nephew, who was taken by Aria’s people, also a bit of revenge as they tried to kill him. Knowing that Aria can lead him to Talon, they form a shaky alliance that depends on both of their survival.  

Thoughts: 

Veronica Rossi nails the dystopia romance theme as this 2011 novel is perfect for its time. Rossi introduces us to a world where, from what I think, Aether is an electrical storm that never leaves the sky and can strike down at any point, killing all those within its path. Thus why the majority of the population went to hide in pods where they have a VR system to allow them to do pretty much whatever they like. That is the world Aria lived in, where she could place herself on the opera stage to sing to her mother or explore fake woods with her friends. Comfy, safe, and one where she does not have to fight for survival, unlike the outside world. In the real world, the one Perry lives in, people lived in tribes who were constantly at war for survival, either by each other or by the ecosystem. Here not everyone is seen as equals, as Blood Lords are the leaders of their tribes, and oftentimes they are Marked. Mark by magical means, some can see better, hear better, smell better, or like Perry who is Marked twice. With fast pace writing, Rossi takes it from a third-person perspective following Aria and Perry around on their adventures, making it unique when they split up, and insightful when they are together. Aria is an okay character, as she gives the classic “in a rough spot but will not complain”, with a bit of spunk as she was not going to take Perry’s insults lightly. Perry is our bad boy who's good as the rough on the outside shows a truly caring, good person on the inside, who is desperate to set things right. Giving us the depth of each character's backstory when needed, you really begin to feel for Aria and Perry and are invested in their lives. Their relationship as a couple? Rossi could have used some pointers. The chemistry is there, as Rossi writes early on how Perry thinks Aria is pretty, and how Aria is always trying to get Perry to laugh, but just the speed of the relationship seems unrealistic. How is it that Rossi started with a slow-burn romance, as it took pages for Perry to kiss her, yet in half that time he’s declaring his love for her? The timing seems rushed. With a solid ending, Rossi sets this novel up to become a series with a vague enough ending that leads you itching for the next novel to see what happens to our couple, as they race to the same thing but for opposite reasons.

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

[thefaybul]

2023 February Feature

For the February Feature video, I am well aware that we are all likely very tired of winter and so I thought I would heat things up with some great art, a mystery thriller, and plenty more for this feature video. As always if you like what you see in the video please consider supporting the creators by following the links and maybe buying some of these amazing works featured in the video. And on a final note before we get to those creators, if you love winter, then you may need to see a doctor for a prescription of warm summer days and see you in the fall. First up to warm the day up is…

Shaun G. who has a very unique and abstract design scheme that helps to bring to the canvas something truly unique and special to see. These interesting images need a unique eye to create and bring to life. The artist he own statements:

“About me, the condensed version. Homeschooled art nerd from Wisconsin. I went to music school but hated it. I have a solo album out, and I'm working on three more for release soon. I had a running comic in the highschool in my hometown. I've sold maybe something like 50-60 paintings in my career. I've done several shows. I recently quit working to pursue a full-time art career. I was a balloon animal maker for every major sports team in Minnesota, and a face-painter too. I owned my own bonsai, garden, landscaping, and lawn service for 5 years, and also ran a rickshaw business in a small town. I live in the twin cities now and I'm just learning the ropes of the local art profession here.”

You can find more of his works at the links below.

Next up we have a mystery and thriller from writer Maggie Casteen. This is a sequel for the Kathy Hamilton series that she has created. Maggie’s description states,

“In the next installment of the Kathy Hamilton Mystery series a lot of changes are coming for Kathy. After a successful trip in the UK with the Brooks case, Kathy is back home in Rosemont and looking for a chance to work as an investigator. A local defense attorney, Bailey Clark, decides to give her a chance, but her first case could be her last. The client is accused of killing a young woman outside of Delany’s Bar, but the only thing is he can’t remember what happened. Did he do it or is something more sinister at work underneath? Kathy will follow the clues to discover the truth...if it’s not too late.

Full of mystery, twists, and turns Hush Now, Don’t Cry will take you on a ride that will leave you wondering what happens next.” Here is a sample of that great work.

#

Prologue

Her eyes glanced across the room as she walked into the Irish bar. She took a seat at the bar and tried to blend in. “He said he’d be here at midnight.” she said to herself. Sandy looked at the clock behind the bar; fifteen more minutes to wait. She laid her purse on the bar in front of her and tried to stay calm. There were plenty of people there having a good time and making memories that they would laugh about later. Sandy just sat there, keeping her eyes forward. The last thing that she wanted was trouble. In just one week, her life had been turned upside–down. I’m just a waitress, she thought, and now after this I’ll be nobody. Sandy looked at the clock again when she saw a man walking towards her. Oh no, she cringed inside, but it was too late; she had been noticed. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Sandy looked up and saw a good-looking guy maybe a little over six-foot leaning against the bar. 

“No, that’s ok” she said smiling, “I’m not going to be here much longer.” 

“Aww, come on” he said with a sly smile, “one drink and I’ll help you wait it out.” 

Wow, this guy is not going to go away, Sandy thought to herself. 

“Name’s Chase. What’s yours?” he asked as he held out his hand. 

“Umm, it looks like my friend is late,” Sandy said as she began to leave the bar, “Maybe...”

“Look,” he said grabbing her arm, “all I want is a drink and your name,” he said; the smile had vanished. 

“Stop it!” she said pulling away, “You’re hurting me.” 

She said louder than she intended, and people were starting to look. 

“Hey! Leave the lady alone,” shouted the bartender, approaching Chase. It had been a fairly quiet night and he wasn’t about to let anybody ruin it now. 

“Fine, Kevin,” Chase said as he threw up his hands in retreat. “Go on; leave then,” he spat at her. Sandy grabbed her purse and softly smiled at the bartender as she made her way out. He’s not going to like this she thought as she walked outside and stood beside the bench. She leaned against the glass window that read Delany’s Pub & Pool Hall as she wiped the tear from her check. Then, she started to check her phone when she felt someone come up behind her and point something into her back. God save me, she thought as she felt her tears run down her cheeks. 

“Shhh,” the voice behind her whispered, “hush now, don’t cry.” And then he slowly grabbed her by the waist. “I’m going to take care of you.” Sandy closed her eyes as they started to back into the alley, she knew what was coming...she had been found.

#

Suspenseful writing and great introduction to the book. If you enjoyed the story please go to the links below and get a copy of this great mystery.

Barnes and Noble:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hush-now-dont-cry-maggie-casteen/1139454226?ean=9781098379445

Amazon:

The next up is Stefano Corrao, he is an artist that does some very detailed and interesting art that ranges from comic book art to fantasy landscape art and even caricatures. The pieces are very detailed and well designed. Comments from the artist.

“Hi, my name is Stefano Corrao and I'm an Italian artist, these are some samples of the graphic novel I made about Bob Dylan's life. The book is published by Edizioni NPE : www.edizioninpe.it

The title in Italian is:

"Bob Dylan - La risposta è nel vento"

("Bob Dylan - The answer is in the wind".)

and can be bought on their website, in all the Italian bookstores (I don't know if it's already available abroad) and can also be bought on amazon.

I am a very versatile artist and I can do many different genres and styles, if you could please mention on your magazine also my website: www.stefanocorrao.com where you can view various works.”

Rounding out this month's issue is a great podcast that talks about those family issues and hopes to educate individuals about issues that may arise within family life. From the creator of the podcasts own words.

“My name is Stefanie and our podcast is Table for Four! It is a podcast featuring our Hispanic family talking about all different issues that affect all families.  Talking about the tough topics, funny stories and learning along with our kids from different perspectives. We invite guests on the podcast and we have fun talking with everyone. 

Table for Four is made up of myself, my husband Andre, my oldest son Adriean and my youngest Stefan and we are the Molina Family. We are a Hispanic millennial family trying to navigate this thing called LIFE. We talk about a wide variety of topics that affect all families and we get to use this platform to share our experiences”

Listen to the introduction video right here.

Thank you for joining me for these great creators being featured. Don’t forget to check them out and follow for more amazing content in the weeks ahead. Also remember, Be Your Own Fable.

[incomingalbatross]

My favorite arc in LotR is actually “Gandalf & Pippin’s Questions.”

The core of this relationship is that Pippin likes asking questions and Gandalf only sometimes has the leisure to answer them:

'What are you going to do then?' asked Pippin, undaunted by the wizard's bristling brows.

'Knock on the doors with your head, Peregrin Took,' said Gandalf. 'But if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will seek for the opening words.'

(“Undaunted” is such a good word for Pippin re: Gandalf. He’s clearly never feared an authority figure in his life. Meanwhile, Gandalf is like “Pippin is a good kid but if someone doesn’t squelch him when necessary he’s going to do something REALLY stupid.”)

Later, the continuing saga of “Gandalf doesn’t like unnecessary questions” returns as soon as he does:

'Then Gandalf came back to us, and he seemed relieved, almost merry. He did say he was glad to see us, then.

’"But Gandalf," I cried, "where have you been? And have you seen the others?’

'"Wherever I have been, I am back," he answered in the genuine Gandalf manner. "Yes, I have seen some of the others. But news must wait."'

Note Pippin’s tolerant familiarity with “Gandalf giving useless answers.”

After Isengard and Pippin’s first sight of the palantir, we see its influence showing itself in Pippin’s stronger and angrier irritation at Gandalf's uncommunicative ways:

'You had the luck, Merry,' said Pippin softly, after a long pause. 'You were riding with Gandalf.'

'Well, what of it?'

'Did you get any news, any information out of him?'

'Yes, a good deal. More than usual. (...) But you can go with him tomorrow, if you think you can get more out of him--and if he'll let you.'

'Can I? Good! But he's close, isn't he? Not changed at all.'

'Oh yes, he is!' said Merry, waking up a little (...)

'Well, if Gandalf has changed at all, then he's closer than ever that's all,' Pippin argued.

We all know how that ends. Boy steals rock, boy looks into rock, boy gets his mind filleted by the Enemy, Gandalf evacuates with him to Minas Tirith.

But then! While Gandalf is quite clear that Pippin should have known better/talked to him before resorting to stealing (and he’s right, obviously), he also responds to this incident by changing his own behavior. He starts talking more.

'What did the men of old use [the palantiri] for?' asked Pippin, delighted and astonished at getting answers to so many questions, and wondering how long it would last.

And he seems to make it clear that this IS in response to the palantir incident, and is him attempting to take Pippin’s desire for information more seriously.

'But I should like to know--' Pippin began.

'Mercy!' cried Gandalf. 'If the giving of information is to be the cure of your inquisitiveness, I shall spend all the rest of my days in answering you. What more do you want to know?'

'The names of all the stars, and of all living things, and the whole history of Middle-earth and Over-heaven and of the Sundering Seas,' laughed Pippin. 'Of course! What less? But I am not in a hurry tonight. At the moment I was just wondering about the black shadow.'

(I love that Pippin laughs and says “If I have the option, I want to know everything, obviously,” partly because he’s making a joke so soon after that nightmare incident and partly because it’s the first time we see Pippin expressing a desire for real, comprehensive knowledge. Even if it’s a joke, this is also the point in the narrative where—having lost both Merry and Frodo—Pippin’s horizons start being forcibly widened, and we’re about to see him taking in an unfamiliar world by himself.)

Despite Gandalf’s “How much more do I have to say?” protest, Gandalf keeps talking and telling his passenger stories, even when Pippin’s falling asleep. <3

Pippin became drowsy again and paid little attention to Gandalf telling him of the customs of Gondor, and how the Lord of the City had beacons built on the tops of outlying hills along both borders of the great range, and maintained posts at these points where fresh horses were always in readiness to bear his errand-riders to Rohan in the North, or to Belfalas in the South.

After we get to Minas Tirith, they both have less time and less peace, but we still get a glimpse of Gandalf trying to balance Pippin’s questions with his other, weightier duties:

'There are evil days ahead. To sleep while we may!'

'But,' said Pippin.

'But what?' said Gandalf. 'Only one but will I allow tonight.'

(I don’t remember the exact question, but it was after they’d seen Faramir, and Pippin was disturbed by the fact that Frodo and Sam were traveling with Gollum. He wanted Gandalf to give an explanation, which Gandalf didn’t really have.)

Finally, two notes on the subject after the destruction of the Ring. Firstly, there’s this exchange when Frodo and Sam are first reunited with Merry and Pippin in their knightly armors:

'But I can see there's more tales to tell than ours.'

'There are indeed,' said Pippin turning toward him. 'And we'll begin telling them, as soon as this feast is ended. In the meantime you can try Gandalf. He's not as close as he used to be, though he laughs now more than he talks.'

And later in Minas Tirith (when Aragorn is keeping them around for his wedding, but he and Gandalf both refuse to tell them that’s why) Frodo teasingly recalls that line.

'Pippin,' said Frodo, 'didn't you say that Gandalf was less close than of old? He was weary of his labors then, I think. Now he is recovering.'

(Frodo, of course, also has a great deal of experience in “Gandalf not answering your questions even when he thinks he IS.”)

I don’t really have a point to this, I just love the shift in Gandalf & Pippin’s relationship over the course of the books, and I also love the change from Pippin’s sulky “if Gandalf has changed at all, then he's closer than ever >:/” to his merry, affectionate “He’s not as close now as he used to be, though he laughs now more than he talks.”

[lesbianjackies]

hi love, could i please order a matcha tea latte and croissant for enoch o'connor? xx M

ah i love getting requests for more obscure characters!! also this concept was just perfect and i'm so excited to write it jfksjglkdjs

matcha tea latte: bookshop meet-cute

croissant: "you pretentious asshole."

general taglist: @caladrius103

(gn!reader)

Enoch only left the children's home for two reasons: to play Raid the Village or to buy books about war. He wasn't particularly interested in socializing; he spent most of his time huddled alone in his room, making horrific living dolls out of random bits and bobs and watching them fight to the death. Oh, and reading books about war. He really liked books about war.

Unfortunately, said books on war do not last forever, and eventually Enoch got to the point where he'd read every single one of them three times each. He was ready for something new.

So he took some money from Miss Peregrine and headed out into town, beelining straight for the small, worn bookshop that was already falling apart in 1943 when the loop was made. He went straight for the war section, grabbed a couple books, and stopped right in his tracks.

You were there, in the corner, huddled over a book he couldn't see the title of. Now, this was strange for multiple reasons: one, the clothes you were wearing were clearly not from 1943, and two, he had never, not once in his life in Cairnholm, seen you on the island. That shouldn't be possible.

Enoch headed straight towards you, scowling in confusion. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

You started, looking up with raised eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Are you daft?" he sneered. "What are you doing here?"

You laughed, which irritated him even more, and said, "Why, aren't you a pretentious asshole?"

Your accent was American, which confused him even more, but he didn't let the emotion show. "I've never seen you before. I've seen everyone in this town and I've never seen you. What are you doing here?"

"Ever heard of leapfrogging, darling?" The pet name made his blood boil.

Yes, he had heard of leapfrogging. Of course he'd heard of leapfrogging - jumping from one loop to another. The real question was, how had you heard of leapfrogging?

Then it dawned on him. "You're peculiar, aren't you?"

"Wow, look at the brain on this one!" you said in mock astonishment, looking back down at your book. "Some of us like to travel."

"But that's illegal," Enoch said dumbly.

"Ah, you're one of the ymbryne worshippers."

"I don't worship anyone," he snapped, hating you more by the second.

"Leap with me, then," you challenged.

"Maybe I will," he replied, puffing out his chest.

You smirked. "Follow me, then."

Maybe he didn't hate you.

[spxllcxstxr]

Merry and Pippin Domestic Life • Headcanons

(Gif not mine)

Request: Ma’am I humbly beg you for Merry and/or Pippin domestic headcanons please and thank you 🙏🙏❤️ -- @bisexualbumblebeeblogs

Warnings: I guess you can consider that you’re married, but I don’t really specify that? It’s just like the two of you live together and are all domestic, I tried to (like always) keep this as gender neutral and inclusive as possible!, mentions of food and eating and alcohol (though you would all be of age)

A.N: oops I did both lmao, I just love them both, I have more Merry and Pippin works on their way!

****

Meriadoc Brandybuck

He is one sweet hobbit in my opinion

Like he’ll hand you some pretty flowers one day and you’re all like

“Alright, Meriadoc, whose garden did you steal these from?”

“No one’s, dear! I can’t just pick some flowers for the hobbit I love--”

The look you’d fucking give him as he flushes bright red

But it’s paired wonderfully with that shit eating grin he always has on when he pulls some trick on the inhabitants of the Shire

So yeah

Sweet, but still mischievous as fuck 

Brings you to the Green Dragon all the time 

And when you, Merry, and Pippin aren’t singing your little hearts out on the table tops, Merry is spinning you around and dancing with you

Just loves watching you twirl

Loves how in the morning you make sure the buttons of his waistcoat are done properly and how you run your fingers over the material

okokok, this doesn’t seem like a big deal, but like, Merry lets you pick the color for the door to your shared hobbit hole

Merry is a great cook

And I mean it

He can spend hours in the kitchen or in the market buying ingredients 

Merry definitely learns how to make your favorite dishes and he has countless recipes from his family 

If you like to create things he will 100% put them around the house to show off

I feel like he’s a tip of the nose kisser

Like just soft kisses on the tip of your nose throughout the day 

And that he would have his arm thrown across your shoulder when out and about 

Always tries to make you laugh

“Merry, my love, you’re an idiot!” You’d laugh after he’s done something beyond stupid

“Yes, (Y/n) dear, but I’m your idiot!”

And he’s completely right

Merry would be one of those people that would flirt with you in public even after you’re a couple, like constant winks and cheesy pick-up lines 

All of the hobbits are cottagecore as fuck and I wish I was them lmao

Peregrin Took

Pippin is......Pippin

He’s so sweet and caring

And kinda oblivious

Calls you honey or pumpkin because he finds them delectable and appropriate for the one he loves

You know that dorky scarf he wears in the films?

Yeah that’s yours now

You always steal it when you’re a bit cold and the tips of his ears go bright pink when he sees you wearing it

“You’re adorable, Pip!”

Is big on just being around you all the time

Whether it’s cuddling by the fire or holding your hand in the Green Dragon, he just eats that shit up

Pippin blushes easily and you exploit this fact so fucking hard 

“(Y/n)! You’re making me go all red!” He’d whine

“And you’re so cute like that Pip! I swear!”

The two of you have a little garden so he and Merry don’t have to keep going to Farmer Maggot’s to steal crops

(Though he still does it anyway)

Loves singing and dancing a whole lot

So you guys create your own drinking songs and songs to perform at parties

This hobbit is a complete menace 

So please do not trust him alone in a kitchen 

Pippin simply can’t handle that 

His eyes go wide when you call him Peregrin 

Loves taking you on walks through the Shire 

Falling asleep by the river or near the Party Tree

Kisses on the cheeks is super big

He might be a handful, but he is just lovely to be around every single day

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Lord of the Rings Taglist: @jazzybug163​