#fili is equally offended

[theaskywalker]

Having a crush on Fili would include:

You were visiting your cousin Bilbo and it coincided with the merry yet unexpected gathering of the dwarves

Bilbo introduced you to the twelve dwarves present and everyone seemed really friendly

That's when Fili appeared from the pantry with hands full of delicious treats

You found yourself gazing at his cheerful eyes and completely ignoring Bilbo who made the introduction

To say that Fili was equally awe-struck by your beauty would be an understatement

After escaping from this unusual trance, Gandalf explained that Bilbo had just being recruited to Thorin's Company to help in their Quest

To everyone's shock you offered to join as well since you always dreamed of seeing Erebor and the city of Dale

Thorin, although reluctant, agreed on the condition that you keep out of his way

Fili was ecstatic to have you as a companion but tried to be subtle about it

He eagerly made conversation with you while riding through the day

Cracking jokes and discussing your daily lives prior to the journey

Sometimes even talking about your future plans once Erebor would be retaken

But when the Company made camp for the night he avoided being alone with you

At first you didn't notice

Then you were puzzled and a little heartbroken by this change in attitude

Had you said anything to offend him?

Was he being polite just for the sake of it?

Oh who were you kidding? He was the heir to an ancient dwarven kingdom. He would never fall for a lowly hobbit such as yourself

So, you stopped being that open with him

And instead responded with polite yet distant remarks

Fili was shocked 😲

Over the journey he had grown very fond of you

Falling more in love with you as each day passed

Despite his passionate love, Fili was more reserved during nightfall

Afraid that you didn't share his feelings and he would be rejected

Bofur's flirting with you did not help at all 😏

Although Fili was very shy to admit it, Kili noticed almost instantly

As funny as it was to watch his brother struggle with his romantic feelings for Miss Took (you), Kili soon grew desperate with the situation

He took Fili aside when the Company rested at Rivendell

Kili pointed how sad you were when Fili ignored you

How you rolled your eyes each time Bofur flirted with you

The loving glances you gave Fili when he wasn't looking

The bright smiles only reserved for him

Fili understood in an almost cartoonish way

Kili smiled at his brother and urged him to finally admit his feelings

Fili found you sitting in the garden beside the dwarven quarters

You were surprised to see him

Fili apologised for ignoring you without reason

He proceeded to confess his love for you and ask your permission to court you

You said yes happily and the two of you sealed this happy moment with an ardent kiss

Little did you know that just a couple of feet away Bofur and Kili exchanged knowing glances 😉

Masterlist

#the hobbit #an unexpected journey #desolation of smaug #battle of the five armies #fili durin #fili x reader #crush #erebor #the lonely mountain #middle earth #third age #fili headcanons #headcanons #the hobbit headcanons #hobbit #reader

[iknowhowtospeaklikeaperson]

hobbits and luck

I wrote this at like 2am and haven't looked over it since. I currently have no plans to return to it, but thought someone else might like the idea so here...

Hobbits have a thing about luck. As in they only have it in extremes. Which was exactly why Gandalf chose Bilbo. Bilbo’s life was full of terrible luck. He was due for bouts of extremely good luck. 

Bilbo said yes because he knew their chance of success without him was nill. With him it was almost guaranteed. 

A few weeks into their journey Kili and Fili finally asked, “Why did you join us?” 

Bilbo paused, hesitant to give any answer. He did not want to offend the dwarrow. He knew they would take offense if they knew the truth. So he told a half truth, “I know what it is like to experience loss. I have experienced great loss myself. If I can help lessen the feeling for you, I will.” 

Thranduril and Bard asked him why he joined the quest after the war.

“I finally got my luck. Hobbits have extreme levels of luck. I finally got mine, but I had nothing to use it for. I knew what might happen if I didn’t come. I wished to lessen the lives taken. I wished to lessen everyone’s misery. The misery of dwarves, elves, men, and even a meddling wizard. I know loss, misery, and grief. I do not wish that on anyone.” 

Bilbo was surrounded by many looks of awe. Many heard the question and listened to his answer. Bilbo simply walked away.

Gandalf gathered the attention and spoke, “ Bilbo’s luck is the only thing that made any of this possible. What you don’t know is that hobbits have lives of equal luck. For every ounce of good luck, bad luck is experienced equally. His life before this has been terrible. He lost his parents before he was even in his twenties and all other hobbits abandoned him. If he would approach them, they spoke terrible things to him and some even wielded violence against him. He was but a fauntling. In other words he was a pebble, an elfling, or a child. Barely halfway to his majority. They did not want his foul luck. His mother wrote to me of it before her passing. You all remember that terrible winter. The hobbits blamed Bilbo for it. I knew when his good luck came. It would be valuable. I am smoothing his hardships for my own sake. You all know the trails of the company and this quest. You can begin to imagine what hardships would counter all this good. What hardships would make an impossible quest likely to succeed and succeed with fewer deaths.” Gandalf paused, letting this sink in. “I tell you this so you will understand. He will not speak of it more, nor will he tolerate any of you speaking of it. He will continue to leave. You all should know though. He will not accept praise or rewards. All he wants is friends and to be accepted. Continue to do this for him.” Gandalf then left to find him.

Upon finding the weary hobbit. Neither spoke.

#the hobbit #hobbits #gandalf #thranduil #bard #fili and kili #fili durin #kili durin #an unexpected journey #Luck #good luck #bad luck #writing prompt

[beenovel]

Thorin: It’s a war zone around here. What happened?

Bilbo: Well, Fíli and Kíli-

Thorin: Ah, that makes sense.

Kíli *off to the side*: Hey!

#fili is equally offended #thorin oakenshield #thorin #bilbo #bilbo baggins #fili durin #kili #fili and kili #the hobbit #the hobbit incorrect quotes #the line of durin #dwarves

[guardianofrivendell]

Guarding Your Heart - Chapter 2 {TEASER}

Summary: Lucy is a smart, independent woman who’s getting dragged into her father’s past against her will. Fíli, who is working for the family’s security agency, receives his next assignment: guarding Lucy. On one side someone who doesn’t want to be a ‘babysitter’ and on the other side someone who will do anything to get rid of her ‘bodyguard’, you know this will turn into chaos. Interesting chaos, but still chaos. Until things start to get serious and they have to work together to stay alive.

Chapter 2 moodboard by @laurfilijames

Chapter 2 will be there this Friday, 5 pm CET! 

We’ll try to work towards weekly updates but since we’re both adults with our own families and jobs, don’t shoot us if we can’t keep up with that schedule.

Thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged on chapter 1, we’re excited to take you all with us on Lucy and Fíli’s adventure! 

Every chapter will be preceded by a teaser posted on Wednesdays.

If you missed chapter 1, you can read it here.

If you don’t want to miss any updates, you can ask to be added to the series taglist!

GUARDING YOUR HEART MASTERLIST

Teaser below the ‘read more’ cut

Warnings: mentions of drinking and abduction. Trigger warning for abduction! Please do not read if this is in any way triggering for you!

Jars clinked together in the refrigerator door as she whipped it open, reaching for a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne.

Lucy stood on her tiptoes to reach a flute, and slammed the glass down on the counter a little harder than she intended, but it thankfully didn’t break.

With a ‘pop’ the cork was freed from the bottle, leaving whispers of fizzy smoke trailing in the air. Her hands trembled again as she poured it carefully into the glass, not wanting to give away her nerves to Fíli who was now leaning on the doorframe and watching her like a hawk. 

“I don’t know if this is an appropriate time for bubbles,” he said, his voice full of judgement. “It’s not even noon yet.”

Lucy spun to face him and placed the rim of the glass to her lips, staring him down fiercely as she emptied its contents in one go, not stopping despite the burning sensation it created down her throat. 

All she could think about was how much she wanted him gone.

“Maybe I’m mourning the death of what used to be my life!” 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Fili smirked, biting the side of his bottom lip. “People are simply trying to keep you alive and the only thing you can worry about is your running schedule.”

Lucy slammed her glass on the counter again and braced both arms against the edge to fake some courage. 

“It’s not just my running schedule! It’s everything! My studies, my future career, my boyfriend! All turned upside down and tossed to the side because of my father, who I haven’t seen or heard of for the past seven years by the way. So forgive me for being a little bitter.” 

She refilled her glass, the first one was not enough to take the edge off the terrible way she was feeling. Lucy could see Fili shaking his head from side to side in her periphery and she nearly lost it when she heard him chuckle. 

“You’re getting a kick out of this aren’t you? You’re watching my life crumble apart before me and I bet you find it incredibly entertaining!” 

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I’m equally as offended and inconvenienced by this whole thing as you are.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling, not liking where this conversation was headed. 

“You can leave at any time!” she snapped, pointing her finger at him. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself!”

“Would you like to try?” he challenged her, raising his eyebrow in question. 

“Try what?”

“Looking after yourself. Should we see what happens?” 

“This entire thing is being blown out of proportion! Nothing is going to happen! Nothing ever happens!” 

He took a few steps towards Lucy until his face was only inches away from hers. If he wanted her to cooperate, he needed to be brutally honest with her. She’d probably hate him after this, but she could use the wake up call.

He took the champagne glass out of her hand and placed it back on the counter, not breaking eye contact.

“Really? So the chances of someone breaking into your house in the middle of the night is, what? One in a million?” he started. “Someone gagging you and tying you up, then tossing you in the back of a vehicle and driving you somewhere, anywhere, where no one is able to find you, not even me? Them doing  unspeakable things to your mind, your body, ...You really think that could never happen in your privileged little life? Think again, sweetheart. Your dad messed around with some nasty people and they will not hesitate to use you to get what they want.” 

He watched as fear spread across her features, and he knew he’d done his job in scaring her. The furrow of her brows relaxed slightly with every description he made of what would most likely happen to her if he wasn’t there to protect her. 

“God, you’re a prick!” her voice shook slightly and she bumped his shoulder harshly when she stormed out of the kitchen to the living room. 

- Full Chapter 2 will be there this Friday, 5 pm CET! - 

Guarding Your Heart taglist: @cassiabaggins @enchantzz @the-poldarkian​ @linasofia​ @magravenwrites​ @classyhorseeclipseduck​ @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse​ @fizzyxcustard​ @elvish-sky​ @anjhope1​ @justfollowtheroad​

#Fili x OC #Fili x Lucy Turner #Fili x reader #Fili #Fili Durin #The Hobbit #The Hobbit fanfiction #The Hobbit imagine #The Hobbit Modern AU #The Hobbit multichapter #Modern!Fili #Teaser #Guarding Your Heart

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Satf Ulkhud

Part 9 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’.  Who know how many more parts are going to follow…  Link to Series Masterlist.

Thorin falls for a Dwarrowdame raised by Elves, and tries to make know his feelings, but accidentally offends her, which leads to another and another misunderstanding between the two.

Based off of @immawriteyouthings​ ‘Falling Stars’

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Estel

Word Count: 1,612

Warning(s):  Blood, minor injury.

Translation(s): Satf Ulkhud:  Step Light

Harkulul:  Enough

Gadra allâk; Mahal hefsu binhas:  Against stupidity; Mahal himself is helpless

~~~~

Why did everything have to be so complicated?  Was it too much to ask for just a simple, easy answer to just one of my questions?  

In the days following my forced chat with the Company, I tried to delicately feel out Thorin and see if I could see what everyone else supposedly saw.  

To put it simply, it wasn't easy; nor was it going well.  So far, I had found out that Thorin really didn't like me very much--no surprise there.  But even through that, I thought I saw those little hints of affection that everyone talked about.

If I looked hard enough, I could see his steely blue eyes--thikilkhagal in Khuzdul according to Balin when I asked him--soften whenever I spoke to him; and his voice would change just the tiniest bit when he spoke to me.  

There were other instances in the past that I could remember as well.  The time I had dragged him out to go stargazing and had grasped his hand within mine; a blush had sprang to his darkly bearded cheeks.  Or when he had offered to teach me Khuzdul.  

But even with all of those hints, I still couldn't bring myself to believe Balin's words.  As I studied Thorin, I grew more frustrated than before; and all that pent-up energy had to be expressed somehow.

That's why I accepted Fili and Kili's challenge to spar with them.  I figured it would be a harmless activity that wouldn't invoke any of Thorin's anger towards me.  

"Parry left, and strike!"  Kili called to his brother as he crouched on the ground a few feet away from where Fili and I were dueling fiercely.  

Fili shot Kili an annoyed glance; the split-second distraction allowing me to land a flat-edged blow to his dominant arm.  Fili yelped in pain and dropped his sword, holding his arm as he swore loudly.

"Harkulul, Kili!  You're distracting me!"  He said angrily, glaring at Kili as he gingerly rubbed the sore place.  

Kili just grinned and hopped up, dodging his muttering brother as he walked forward, swinging his sword in preparation to duel me.  "Prepare to be beaten, Miss Estel."  He laughed, and I rolled my eyes, grinning.

"I wouldn't be too sure, Kili...  Cockiness doesn't get you anywhere but in trouble."  I said wisely, darting forward only to have my jab blocked by Kili.  "As your uncle would say, gadra allâk; Mahal hefsu binhas."

My words had Kili grinning widely, shaking his head.  “Actually, that’s something Lory would say."

Within minutes, him and I were engaged in a swift flurry of jabs and parries; neither of us willing to let the other win.  I had to admit, even with his lack of experience, Kili was a better swordsman than his brother.  There was a finesse to his movements; more grace.  Perhaps it came from his interest in archery.

Sweat began to bead on my forehead, dripping down and into my eyes as I focused intensely on gaining ground on Kili.  It was only a matter of time before he would make a wrong move and I could score a hit.

"Hey, watch where--” Fili’s voice vaguely penetrated my concentration, just as I stumbled over something.  My stroke went wide to the left, leaving me open.  

Silver flashed by my face, and pain erupted across my left forearm as Kili's sword grazed my skin.  I let out a hiss of pain, dropping my sword as I brought my right hand to clamp over the shallow cut.  

Crimson oozed between my fingers as I clenched my teeth, wavering on my feet as I tried to keep the pain from overwhelming me.  It wasn't a bad wound, but the superficial ones tended to hurt the worst.

"Estel!  I'm sorry, are you alright?!"  Kili's panicked voice broke the silence, and I heard a scuffle as he and Fili gathered beside me, gentle hands prying away my fingers so that they could look at my wound.

"I'm fine, Kili.  It's superficial."  I said through clenched teeth, taking in a deep breath as Fili's calloused fingers prodded the sensitive area.  "But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt when you do that!"  I said quickly, and Fili drew back, his blue eyes concerned.

"Fili, Kili, what is going on here?"  Thorin's voice rumbled ominously from behind me, and I could see Kili's brown eyes widen as he gulped.  "Is everything--"  

Catching sight of the scarlet staining my hand and arm, Thorin cut himself off, hurrying to grab my arm and look at my injury.  Once he assured himself it wasn't life-threatening, he raised his dark-haired head to look at Fili and Kili.  "Which one of you did this?  I thought I would have taught you better to not gang up on people."  He said quietly, and Kili raised a trembling hand.

"It was my fault, Uncle.  I didn't mean to hurt her, but she tripped over a rock and I couldn't stop my stroke..."  He mumbled apologetically, shrinking underneath Thorin's furious stare.

"It's not his fault, Master Thorin," I began, and he shot me a look, raising an eyebrow.  But that didn't dissuade me from plowing onwards.  "I should have been watching my footing as well.  It was an accident.  Besides, it's just a superficial wound."  I tried to reassure him, pulling my arm out of his grasp, but he let out an exasperated sigh.

"Miss Estel, there is rarely such a thing as a superficial wound, and even if it is, that doesn't change the fact that Kili hurt you."  He said, and my brow furrowed with confusion.

"What difference does that make?  Kili accidentally hurt me and he apologized.  What else needs to be resolved?"  I asked, and Thorin avoided my gaze.

"Things are different in our culture, Miss Estel."  He said, dodging my question, and a quick glance at Fili and Kili told me that his words were confusing to them as well.  

"Alright, if you say so.  Now, I'm going to go get this cleaned up."  I said, glancing down at my forearm.

Without waiting for a response, I turned away to go locate my bedroll and find the spare roll of bandages that I kept there for this sort of purpose.  Once that had been taken care of, I headed off in search of Dwalin.  Perhaps he would have answers for me; after all, he was Thorin's closest friend.

Much to my relief, I quickly caught sight of him lounging at the edge of the forest, brawny forearms crossed over his equally brawny chest as he scanned the horizon.  Heading in his direction, I watched as his gaze slid over to me as I approached.

"Miss Estel," he nodded to me as I moved to stand beside him.  "Ye look as though ye need something."  

I managed a soft laugh.  "That I do, Master Dwalin.  A listening ear for my complaints."  I said, taking a deep breath as I tried to cool my rising temper.  

Dwalin turned his body towards me, raising a scarred eyebrow as he looked down at me.  "Complaints, ye say?  They wouldn't happen to be about Thorin, would they?"  He asked, and I nodded sullenly.

"Right on the bullseye, Master Dwalin.  Even after spending days observing Thorin, I still don't see what you all talk about.  Perhaps there might be some affection somewhere, but I haven't found it yet.  Although, he has made it easy to get close to him...  He hasn't seemed to have wanted to leave my side ever since I walked into that tree in the dark..."  I grumbled, and Dwalin chuckled.

"The Dwarrow has every right to be protective of ye..."  His voice trailed off as he glanced at something over my shoulder.  "I mean, the way he feels about ye--"

"No.  Don't give me that utter rubbish about his feelings for me.  I've tried my hardest to find a hint of it; of anything!  But there's nothing!"  I said, glaring at Dwalin.  " You also forget that I'm raised by Elves, Thorin can't stand Elves.  In his eyes I'm just as bad--if not worse!"  I exclaimed, ignoring the way Dwalin's gaze grew solemn.  "Ever since I said it, he's been horrible to me.  Even more so than usual!"  

Dwalin raised a hand as if to try and calm me.  "We've told ye, Lass, Thorin's trying to protect himself from getting hurt.  He just needs some time to process--"

I cut him off, breath coming in deep gasps as I struggled to hold back the tears brimming in my eyes.  "But if he really loves me, he wouldn't care about my past.  That shouldn't matter to him.  You are all blind; seeing something that isn't really there.  Perhaps he loved me once, but that all changed the moment I said I was raised by Elves."  Swallowing hard, I looked straight into Dwalin's dark amber eyes that shone with confusion over my sudden change in emotions.  "I cannot return his affections if they do not exist."  I whispered in a shaking voice.

"Miss Estel--” I didn't wait around to hear what he had to say and bolted away, brushing past the approaching Thorin and fleeing blindly into the forest as tears streamed down my face and sobs shook my body.

I ignored the familiar voice that called after me; asking what was wrong and where I was going.  Thorin was the last person I wanted near me right now.

For a moment, I thought I had found answers.  But then I realized they were only questions in disguise.  

Questions whose answers persisted at being elusive.

#thorin #thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #a deep misunderstanding #the company #dwalin #frustration #angst #meddling company #oblivious oc #the hobbit

[laurfilijames]

Hellooooo it's been a long time since I came into your ask box!

So, I saw someone asking this to you, I think it was @cassiabaggins ? I can't remember.

So, let's say that Prim actually lives in Middle Earth. Since she is with Fíli, she would obviously have to interact with Naya and Ofelia (my OCs). Does she get along with them? And what does she think of them?

Lots of love my friend 💕 -@midearthwritings

*rolls up sleeves* okay...

This is a big ask.

I am LOVING you and @cassiabaggins asking me questions about Prim in Middle Earth, it’s honestly something I’ve never really thought of until these asks and I love the character development!

Right off the bat- Prim and Ofelia would not get along. Bless sweet Oflelia, but Prim just can’t handle her crying. Prim is simply not very sensitive, and unfortunately would unintentionally offend her a couple of times. Eventually she would learn to be patient with her (which is a good lesson for impatient Prim) as they would be sister-in-laws one day. For the sake of the family, Prim would swallow her opinions and become understanding to Ofelia, resulting in a good relationship down the road. The truth is, they are very similar (aside from the tears). Prim is equally as hot-blooded and impetuous as Ofelia which is where the frustration lies. But again, over time, they would likely grow a strong bond.

I think her and Naya would get on pretty well. Naya seems to be as strong-willed as Prim and also not afraid to speak her mind, all while displaying a not-so-subtle eye-roll and quick to talk back to the Durin men. Prim would look up to Naya and seek her guidance and wisdom for many things. And she loves her baking.

This was tricky to answer, but I loved the challenge! We both have created very strong-minded women that I think Thorin, Fili and Kili are all secretly terrified of! Thank you so much for asking @midearthwritings ! You’re the best!

#oc asks #prim #prim in middle earth #midearthwritings #naya #ofelia #friend’s oc’s

[wincestisasincest]

The Green Book (Thorin’s Company x Reader, Part 2)

Hey gang! Sorry it took so long to get a Part 2! I wish I had a better excuse but in reality I just watched all of Game of Thrones and cried a lot.

I don’t know if anyone reads these descriptions, also, but if you are, send me asks/suggestions for characteristics of the reader, or objects that they have on them, or even pairings! I love to hear what people think, and will almost definitely incorporate them into this.

Summary: (Y/n) falls into Middle Earth. Shocker. Somehow, she gets recruited to join a party of dwarves on their kinda crazy mission to reclaim their home of Erebor. 

Part: 1, 2

Tags (let me know if you want to be added to the list!): @stuckupstucky, @dianaarelyfernandezgarza97

Words: 1820

Warnings: Plot clichés, vomit

“Do not touch her face.” 

“But uncle, look at her! Who knows what else she could be hiding? We should check to be sure.”

“Do not. Touch. Her face.” 

“What if it gets her to wake up?” 

“Lad, if you touch her face I’ll poke yours a lot harder with the back of my hand.”

“Right, right, sorry.” 

“I believe, at the moment, there is a greater threat that deserves our attention.” 

My eyes fluttered open, only to be met with several new faces, looking just about as shocked as I did. Though I didn’t get an in depth look, they all had thick brows, long hair, and even longer beards. They had also taken to certain sacks, made out of burlap. I couldn’t really make out the scene clearly as it was quite dark, a proper nighttime like I had missed earlier, but there was the aggressive firelight with shadows passing over it that illuminated their expressions. 

I tried to move, only to realize that I was in a very similar situation. A sack was up to my neck, and though I could move freely inside of it, the toughness of the fabric and the smallness of the sack was very limiting. 

“Psst. Hey! Lass!” I turned my eyes up only to meet with a blonde haired man, with braided bears and hair like a lion’s mane. I raised my eyebrows in response to his question. 

“Yes?” I answered meekly. 

“Hey, is that the lass?” Another young, spry voice answered from over the rest of the bodies. 

“Both of you, shut up!” A rather authoritative voice, quite deep, and apparently coming from someone with no sense of humor, rose over the din.

“Ey, stop ya talkin’ or I’ll cook yew first!” I looked up, only to be met with a pallid, monstrous face leering at the group of men. It held a slightly spiked club with its massive fingers as it scrunched its snot filled nose. 

It took nearly all of my willpower not to scream, but I did allow a gasp to escape. I turned to the blonde man, and scooted a little closer.

“What the fuck is that?” I whispered frigthfully. 

“A troll, it would seem.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What?!” I responded, just confused as this man dispensed tales from fantasy novels like they were fact. 

“What are they gonna do to us?!” I continued my interrogation.

“Well, I think that they’re planning to eat us, but don’t you worry. We won’t let that happen.” He gave me a confident wink like there was a chance of escape, before going back to angrily grunting against his sack. 

I sighed and leaned back, trying to absorb the situation. I couldn’t get a good periphery. If only I had my backpack, or something. 

Some sparse conversation between a smaller, meeker voice and the larger one of the troll was occurring to my left, though I was too dazed to make out most of it. Something about worms. 

The group then began caterwauling, all moaning about how they were riddled with the worst possible worms, and I had caught on to their scheme. If they were riddled with worms, then the trolls, of course, wouldn’t want to eat them. 

“What about her? She seems fine.” My vision went from blurry to dreadfully straight as the great club in front of me came into focus. Shit. 

“I, uh-” I struggled against my frightened breathing to put on a convincing performance. It would not be an exaggeration to say that my life depended on it.

“I have the worst case of all.” I used my tired breathing to my advantage, before employing a trick that I had learned on the playground in elementary school. I crossed both my eyes, before rolling them back into my head, creating the gross, veiny effect that used to make the younger kids throw up. 

I pretended to struggle against my health once more as I tried to spit out more improvisation, not even realizing the great number of eyes watching me. The only thing that I was focused on was the grossed-out fear in the eyes of the troll, who had clearly never seen such grade school witchcraft. 

“We all got it from eating a herd of cows that had worms,” I added, “That’s how it gets passed on.” 

“She’s lyin!” One of the other trolls, because of course there were other trolls, yelled from the back.

“Did you see what ‘er eyes did? You can’t make that up!” I had finally had the will to stand up, like an attorney defending someone in court. 

To my left, there was a very short creature, assuming that he was standing at his full height, of course, with brown skin and blonde, curly hair. He seemed just as scared as I. 

The larger troll hustled closer and whipped out a long, rusty knife that was hitched to his hip, holding it up to my throat. I could feel it biting into my jaw as some blood trickled, but I held my resolve.

“Why don’t I just cut you open to see them worms, girl?” He snarled. I heard a few gasps from behind me, before one tried to scramble its way out of my own throat. 

“I was going to die soon anyway because of my disease, you would be doing me a favor by ending the pain,” The troll eased his knife slightly, and I saw his expression falter as he realized that he hadn’t succeeded in visibly scaring me. 

“That would be all that it’s good for!” The small creature added, his voice rising almost an octave, “The worms are completely clear, you wouldn’t see anything.” 

I nodded, under the pressure of the blade still to my throat. 

“The only way to find out would be, of course, to eat us and die,” I added an edge of harshness to those last words, “Ready to take that chance?”

“The dawn will take you all!” A booming voice shouted from behind me. Though I didn’t turn around swiftly enough, I heard the cracking of rock and saw the rays of the sunrise spilling out over the three trolls on front of me, who were very swiftly turned to no more than stone. 

I jerked my throat away from the blade, which was now completely stone, and struggled to release myself from my burlap prison. My struggle, however, was ended by a sharp force slicing through the back of it and dropping to the floor, exposing my body to the rest of the world. It felt new to have the wind on my skin. I turned around to face my savoir. 

“Well, you’re a new face, aren’t you?” 

The first clear look that I had gotten at a person in a long time and it was, of course, Gandalf the Grey. Given how perceptive he was, I was sure that he caught the glint of recognition in my eyes, though he chose to say nothing. 

I turned to the side, only for my fears to be confirmed. Slowly crawling out of their sacks was a group that I had grown very familiar with, none other than the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, fully equipped with their wizard and hobbit. A flood of memories came back to me as I could recall both the book and the movie (like a moving picture with sound), both common tales from where I came from. I had just helped the legendary company escape from one of their earliest trials, the trolls, without even realizing it. 

The complication in this, of course, was that all my life, I had been taught that such company, and by extension, such a land as Middle Earth, was nothing but a tale. The fact that they were in front of me at this moment, and seemed to be very corporeal, was off putting to say the least. 

My face twisted into confusion.

“Never seen a dwarf before, lass?” A wizened old Balin, I assumed, stroked his long white beard while speaking for the equally confused looks of his company. 

“Uh,” I stuttered, tripping over my words, “uh, well, not in, I, uh, no.” I finally settled on not bothering whether or not I offended them and using plain, simple language. 

“From the looks of it, she’d never seen a troll before either.” The blonde haired one, Fili I remembered him as, said to the crowd as he was gathering up his equipment. 

I could feel my breathing grow heavy, and I swear that I was beginning to sweat. This was some fucked up dream. 

“Are you alright? There’s no need to be afraid, Miss.....” a small voice, that of Bilbo Baggins, who had appeared next to you as silently as hobbits are known to do, gave me a concerned look.

“(Y/n)” I answered bluntly, shunting his question.

“That’s a bit of an odd name. Mind tellin’ us where you’re from?” Balin leaned forward.

“I, uh, I-” All of the confidence that I had while confronting the trolls had completely vanished. I felt my stomach begin to churn, though I was so hungry that it felt out of place. 

“Yes, and where you got such strange garb from as well?” The man himself, Thorin Oakenshield, stepped forward, though I knew before seeing him from his voice. He looked as he always did, stern and focused. 

I stared down at what I thought to be quite normal, some jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, and a jacket, though only thoughts of how abnormal and alien I must seem right now could come to fruition.

“Let’s not bombard her with questions.” Gandalf intervened as every dwarf and hobbit eye was trained on me. 

Out of the corner of my vision, I saw my red canvas backpack glinting in the sunlight. It had been carelessly thrown to the side.

“I, um, I have to go!” Before turning around to see their expression, I gathered up my stuff and started towards the forest. 

“Go where, exactly?” I could hear Gandalf yell behind me, and stepping forward slightly in my direction.

“I don’t know!” And with that confident dismissal, I darted off into the forest, with my stuff behind me, not bothering to answer some of the screams and pleas. 

When I had convinced myself that I was far enough away where they couldn’t hear me, I grasped the nearest tree and threw up my entire stomach. My vision was getting dizzy again, and I could feel tears in my eyes. The adrenaline had gotten me through the trolls, but now, I was lost, scared, or, at best, completely insane. 

I took out my phone. The background on it was a picture of my family. My sobs only deepened. I curled into a ball and continued to cry, and hours passed before I would stand again. 

**********

Well that was fucking depressing. 

It will get happier, I swear, but I always thought that the concept of getting completely plucked from everything that you know and placed with a bunch of stange, unknown people was quite scary and emotional, so of course, it will be treated as such. 

Be on the lookout for a masterlist at some point!

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #bilbo baggins #bilbo baggins x reader #bilbo baggins imagine #bilbo x reader #bilbo imagine #thorin's company x reader #thorin's company #thorin oakenshield #thorin x rea #thorin oakenshield x reader #fili #kili #fili and kili #fili and kili x reader #fili oakenshield #kili oakenshield #kili x reader #fili x reader #thorin #thorin imagine #fili imagine #kili imagine #bofur #bofur x reader #dwalin #gandalf

[ladyideal]

Graceful Dances

Pairing: Fili x Reader

Word Count: 1063

Warnings: One curse word.

Request/Summary: could you do something for fili where the reader is a demi god? you can choose the god, be it greek, Roman, Egyptian, or Norse. and the reader is from our world and was on a mission for an artifact that sent her to the Tolkien world and she landed right in the middle of the fight scene on the hill after the company escaped the goblins and she just jumps right in and starts fighting since shes seen weirder things and fili is totally awe struck by her and you can kinda add whatever else you want by Anon

A/n: I squealed at this request because fuck yes mythology is my favorite. So I went with Egyptian, and Horus, God of War.

It was supposed to be easy. 

Sneak in, take the tokens, replace them with a fake, sneak back out.

The museum was undergoing construction on a new wing, which meant lots of new ways to find safe entrances and exits. You and some other demigods lounged around on the park benches for hours on end, in order to categorize every movement from the staff to the construction workers. 

Those that were able to volunteer within, detailed extensively on every door, window, secret exits, and paintings that held doors behind them. The map was detailed, to the point that it could become a professionally made blueprint.

No, everything had to go right. 

The double golden scepters sat on a velvety burgundy plush pillow, boring holes into you as you stared at it through the glass. Gingerly, you pulled out the makeshift key from a set of jingling keys, and promptly dropped them out of nervousness.

Silently cursing yourself for being clumsy, you wondered how you were able to be a child of the Egyptian God of War, Horus, and yet be able to be this clumsy. With trembling hands, you inserted the key and turned the lock to the left. 

Click!

Letting out a breath of relief, you gently slid the door panel to the side. In front of the artifact, a piece of paper introduced what was within. You gazed down at the words, grimacing slightly at how both were illegally robbed from King Tut's tomb and taken away to be displayed.

The Crook and the Flail

Used by the Egyptians Kings and Ra, King of the Egyptian Gods.

How wrong the description was! It had been ages since Lord Ra was king. The kings that had taken up the double scepters after Ra were Lord Osiris, and your father Lord Horus. With a shrug, you dug through your pack, and shook out an almost identical double scepters from within.

Identical to the naked eye, you knew that the replacement wouldn't be questioned. The authenticity to retest a rare object like this would cost too much to go forward. Slowly lifting and grasping the ends of the real scepters, you brought them out from their snug confines, and propped the fake ones inside.

Satisfied with your work, you moved the glass panel back, locked it, and dropped your keys into the knapsack. With interest, you picked up the double scepters and your knapsack.

Now to get the hell out of there.

Hefting the sack over your shoulders, you gathered the crook and flail in one hand, and headed back towards the painting door you originally snuck in from. Unconsciously, you crossed the two scepters.

Suddenly, with a loud bang, and an overwhelming gold bright light, you squeezed your eyes shut as hard as you could, and clapped your hands to your ears in an effort to lessen the demeaning sounds emitting from the now dropped golden scepters. Blinding light seeped through from beneath your eyelashes, and for a moment, you had no idea what was going on.

Egyptian magic always took you by surprise anyways. This wasn't new.

Soon the light lessened, and you cautiously cracked your eyes open. Instead of meeting the drab grey walls of the museum, you marveled at the field in front of you, of the trees, of the short-.

"Who are you lass?" One of the short man, a dwarf maybe, asked in concern. 

Beside him were equal heights of other bearded men, and a taller one with a beard that could rival the others. You stared at them, stumped in disbelief, but eventually looked away.

Staring was rude.

You curiously glanced back at them from your periphery, before you realized you haven't answered his question.

"Who are you? Where am I?" You asked instead, looking around you in the hopes of finding a recognizable landmark.

"Fili," The older looking one cautioned.

"Run them down! Tear them to pieces!" Azog roared from the side of the mountain. As the group reluctantly turned away from you, you watched with wide eyes as a number of wargs approached rapidly, many brandishing terrifying weapons.

"Run, Run!" The tall, grey bearded one commanded. "You too!"

The dwarf named Fili hurried to you first. "Run with us. We'll keep you safe."

As everyone started running, the wargs started chasing after. Watching as the first warg caught up with those at the back, Bilbo killed one of them with his sword.

"Fili right?" You asked, struggling to keep up with the dwarf. "Hand me a sword. I can fight."

"No!" The dwarf rebuked you. "Run to safety. Let me do this."

"Up into the trees. All of you! Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!" The tall one continued.

"Climb. I'll fight," The dwarf slashed through one that got too close.

"Too bad," You smirked, already sliding a sword off of the dwarf, and beheaded a warg that snarled beside you. 

It wasn't the most weirdest circumstances you've found yourself in anyways.

All the prince could do was watch as you sliced your way through the horde of wargs. Those that were unfortunate to choose you as their target, led to their immediate demise.

He was in awe. In his dwarven culture, she dwarves and finding a One were rare, and thus protected and cherished. He was ready to fight for you, despite being a complete stranger to the lands that he called home.

Mahal, you were perfect.

You slid gracefully from side to side, tearing through wargs as though this life was normal to you. You waved your sword like a maestro waving its baton, cuing the instruments to play, but this time having the wargs as your, almost offended, discordant. It was an art form, as you danced around him, spewing black blood around and the occasional red from yours.

You were willing to risk your life, risk splitting your blood for him, even though he had no clue if you knew what the journey was for, he was indebted to you. Perhaps when this was all over, his homeland reclaimed, he would like to get to know you better.

Red.

Fili shook himself out of his stupor, and reached for his axes. He was mesmerized by your fighting spirit, and your grace. With a roar, he too joined your fight, in an effort to claim back his home, the Lonely Mountain, Erebor.

Chomp Everything Tags: @asraime @mournthewicked

Tolkien: @aspiring-ginger

Join the taglist! I promise I write good.

#fili durin #fili #fili x reader #fili imagine #tolkien #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #sons of durin #deb writes

[loekas]

A ficlet of what I imagine was going through Thorin’s mind when he found Orcrist.

@thorinkingoferebor

The sword in his hands is the most offensive thing Thorin has ever laid eyes upon.

The alloy is exquisitely blended, breathtakingly tempered and seamlessly folded. The edge is honed to impossible sweetness, the hilt designed to provide the best conceivable grip no matter the shape of one’s hand, and all points of balance are pure perfection. It is, without a doubt, the most stunning, most magnificent blade he has ever seen, flawless in every conceivable way.

And it was made by Elves.

Feeling betrayed by its sheer perfection, Thorin returns the offensively gorgeous blade to its equally offensive scabbard with all the care this breathtaking work of art demands, and curses the Wizard for being right.

He, literally, cannot wish for a finer blade.

"Let's get out of this foul place," he calls to Dwalin, his friend standing near the entrance and keeping half an eye on those inside, half on those outside.

His words make Dwalin let out a great sigh of relief, before he grimaces with disgust as he’s forced to take a too deep breath of the nauseating stench drowning every inch of this place. Dwalin leaves quickly, not bothering to speak in his haste to get to fresh air. Thorin continues to take shallow breaths as he gives the cave a final inspection.

Most of his Company have already left after grabbing as much gold as can be brought along without slowing them down. Only Gloin, Nori and Bofur remain, having stayed behind to, in Gloin’s words, make a long term deposit. The three are in the process of burying the last of the gold. Because, unbelievably so, this hoard holds enough gold for there to be some left after a dozen Dwarves descended upon it.

Gloin, Nori and Bofur are visibly suffering from the vile stench of this place, expressions twisted with revulsion as they continue to fill the hole they’ve dug. Meanwhile, Tharkûn continues to admire the magnificent blade Thorin gave him, the breathtaking work of art as offensively flawless as Thorin’s own insulting beauty. The sight is made even worse by how Tharkûn seems to be wholly unbothered by the suffocating stench of this foul place.

Thorin gave the marvel of craftsmanship to the Wizard in part because the length means that Tharkûn is the only one aside from Dwalin who can use the gorgeous blade to the full potential it deserves to be wielded with, and in part because Tharkûn saved all their lives and deserves a greater reward than the others. Especially after the Wizard failed to take even a single piece of gold, something Thorin still has trouble wrapping his mind around. Even the Halfling has taken some. Incredibly little, yes, but he still took them.

Tharkûn has taken none.

Wizards. Thorin will never understand them.

The fact that he’s met no more than one, namely Tharkûn himself, doesn’t affect his opinion in the slightest.

"Bofur, Gloin, Nori, hurry up," Thorin orders while moving towards the entrance, more out of habit than necessity. The three are working as fast they can so as to leave this suffocating place behind.

The moment he’s away far enough from the cave’s horrifying stench, Thorin breathes in deeply, savoring the sweetness of clean air. After looking around and locating Oin, Ori, Dori and the Halfling, he makes his way to higher grounds so as to account for the others.

Aside from his sister-sons, who are in deep conversation with Balin, the others are cheerful and relaxed. All but Balin, Fili, Kili and the Halfling are fiddling with her newfound gold, delighted with what turned out to be a truly exceptional find. Yes, Thorin had expected to find some treasure, but he’d not expected an amount like this by far, and he’d definitely not expected to find not one but two priceless works of art.

Deciding to let them enjoy their treasure a little while longer, Thorin keeps half an ear on the chatter filling the air as he makes his towards Dwalin, standing nearby and keeping watch over his Company. Dwalin is idly caressing a pair of gold coins and appears to be wholly unbothered by his burns. An impressive achievement, given that his underclothes must be chafing with a vengeance.

There’s a small stream running next to him, suitable for Thorin’s purpose.

Kneeling next to the water, he dips the marvel of craftsmanship in the stream. Trolls might hoard all things shiny, but they make no effort to keep things clean after acquiring them.

Even though he knew it would happen, Thorin still has to take a moment to simply stare as the water washes away the worst of the grime and dirt.

It manages to make the already breathtaking work of art even more stunning.

Thorin starts cleaning the exquisite hilt with the gentle care it deserves.

Dwalin is giving the work of art an extremely offended look. One that grows more pained the longer he examines the marvel of craftsmanship.

"That, is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Dwalin declares as though it is the greatest of atrocities. Thorin feels a wry expression grow. He saw more beautiful things before Erebor was lost, but not when it comes to weapons. When it comes to weapons, this is by far the most gorgeous thing he has ever seen as well.

And it was made by Elves.

"It's even worse when felt," he returns sincerely. Dwalin scoffs with disbelief.

"I doubt that, I really do."

Thorin understands why Dwalin believes so, given his exceptional eye for weapons. This does not mean he agrees with his friend's assessment.

After he finishes getting the now radiant hilt as clean as it deserves to be, he holds it out towards Dwalin in part invitation, part challenge. Dwalin gives a suspicious look in return, but the temptation proves too great to resist, as Thorin knew it would be.

Dwalin puts his gold away and draws the magnificent blade. And immediately lets out an unintelligible noise that is equal parts awed admiration and pure agony. Thorin understands completely.

He starts cleaning the gorgeous scabbard, watching from the corner of his vision as Dwalin performs a few practice swings with a pained grimace. A grimace that grows deeper with every swing. Thorin himself feels a scowl grow a he hears the distinctive singing of the blade.

The edge is so fine it cuts air.

It takes an unbroken line of collaborating Master Smiths at least two lifetimes of constant crafting without room for even the slightest of errors to hone an edge so sweet. That’s without adding in all the other ways the work of art is so painfully flawless.

"Everything about this beauty is an insult to our kin," Dwalin declares after a few more swings.

"Agreed," Thorin concurs in an instant, meaning it from the bottom of his heart.

This marvel of perfection was made by Elves.

Unsurprisingly, Dwalin is incapable of not putting the breathtaking weapon through a routine. A routine that grows progressively more complex. Thorin, paying more conscious attention to his Company now that his friend is distracted, is planning to do the same after he finishes cleaning the gorgeous scabbard. He needs to familiarize himself with the blade’s absolute lack of resistance when swung.

He’s still cleaning the work of art when a flock of birds takes to the air, drawing both his and Dwalin’s attention. The bird’s flight causes the noise Thorin previously identified as distant animals roaming the forest to crystallize into the distinctive sound of snapping branches and earth being disturbed.

Something is coming. Fast.

Thorin spins towards the others while catching his Blade as Dwalin throws it back at him, racing to get himself between his Company and the nearing threat, Dwalin right at his heels with his warhammer at the ready.

"Something comes!" he warns while doing another headcount, ensuring that all are present. His warning causes all to draw their weapons and take up defensive positions.

Thorin absently notes that the Halfling is wielding a blade as well, small but of the same flawless make as his own and Tharkûn’s. Most of his focus is on locating the threat beyond a general direction, yet it’s moving too fast for him to succeed, far too fast–

Thorin swings his Blade on instinct as something burst through the foliage and blurs past him.

He misses. Partly because the Blade’s absolute lack of resistance throws off his aim a little, but the greatest cause is for his miss is that whatever large object he’s swung at has somehow managed to dodge his strike even at this close distance.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!"

Thorin blinks with confusion, not so much at the yelling as at the sight that meets his eyes when the blur halts and reveals itself to be... a sled? Pulled by rabbits, of all things?

He signals the others to hold their position, for there is but one Man on that sled, unarmed save for a wooden staff.

No, not a Man. Comparable in shape, but the similarities end after first glance. This being, with tangled brown hair and ragged clothes, and who wears an expression that speaks of an absence of the mind, holds a sense of Power that defies all rational explanation. A Power more felt than seen.

A Power Thorin knows but one other to have.

"Radagast," Tharkûn exclaims, not merely relieved but with a kind of warmth Thorin has never witnessed from him before. The Wizard sheathes his magnificent blade. "Radagast, the Brown."

Thorin grimaces, even as he sheathes his own work of art, causing the others to, if not put away, than to at least lower their weapons.

Another Wizard.

Thorin watches Tharkûn walk towards the Brown Wizard with a growing sense of dread.

The fact of the matter is that they encountered three Mountain Trolls. Not one, not two. Three. And all were intelligent.

The odds of that happening this far South are almost as low as those of his entire Company surviving the encounter unscathed.

Which means Thorin has to wonder. What, exactly, is going to happen now that there are two Wizards present?

The answer, is for Warg scouts to attack and for their remaining ponies to bolt, meaning they lose most of their provisions and are forced to attempt to outrun the following Orc pack on foot. Naturally, they fail. In no small part because the Brown Wizard, who possess all the attributes needed to be an amazing one, is the most incompetent decoy Thorin has ever had the misfortune of being forced to work with.

But perhaps the Brown Wizard is not incompetent. After all, even though they end up in another situation where by all rights at least one of his Company should have died, Tharkûn manages to save them all once more.

By forcing them to take refuge with Elves.

Wizards.

#The Hobbit #fanfic #ficlet #my writing #Thorin #Orcrist

[101percentindia]

Girl Trafficking In Hindi Cinema

My first brush with the law.

As a freelance journalist, my first and last brush with the law happened around an online article on trafficking. I had written about a wonderful documentary on women. One of the persons mentioned in the film and in my review, filed a defamation charge against the director of the film, the editors of the online magazine and against me for writing. The said person is shown approaching a police station, pretending to be a lawyer, to purportedly ‘rescue’ small girls and give them back to their ‘mothers.’ I later learnt that part of his earnings came from filiing false suits against any Tom, Dick and Harry he felt had defamed him in some way. Instead of putting me off, this incident challenged me to probe deeper into this thriving trade in human trafficking and also to find out how Hindi cinema has dealt with this serious issue.

I went deep into the economics and sociology of trafficking and the details were mind-boggling. Newspapers and magazines are rife with factual stories and case histories of real-life incidents. The human trafficking industry has a reported annual income of $8 billion, and the UN estimates that it may employ as many as 40 million women. Although human trafficking is illegal in almost every country, thousands of girls each year become sex slaves. Even when rescued by social workers, voluntary agencies and sometimes the local police, many of them go back to where they came from, mostly prostitution.

My experience of having watched umpteen films on trafficking, specifically four recent ones, shows that Indian filmmakers’ insight on the subject has evolved over the years. They have moved away from Gulzar’s Mausam, through Sagar Sarhadi’s Bazaar and T.S. Ranga Rao’s hard-hitting Giddh. They are bolder, forthright and not really bothered about what the CBFC has to say.

Related: Busting Child Prostitution In Varanasi | 101 Underground

The ugly world of bride trafficking. Image source: hindustantimes.com

Paro (2017) This short but poignant film draws attention to the illegal business of bride trafficking which goes on unabated, as there are no complaints or if there are, the police look the other way. Vijay Kumar, says he made the film based on a real-life experience, “No one calls the bride by her name because she leads an anonymous life within the family, tending to her bed-ridden husband who is unhappy about the entire situation, but helpless as his mother holds family decisions in her control. The custom of selling the girl as a bride is called Paro Pratha. What shocks is the fact that she accepts her life as a predestined reality and does not know that another kind of life exists beyond this market. She is just a commodity to be bought and sold again and again. All of them have the same name, Paro.” The film is made in Haryanvi because the story, based on true events, happens in a village near Rohtak where Vijay Kumar grew up. If a man buys a paro for Rs.50,000, he will sooner or later, try and sell her off for Rs.60,000, which brings human beings down to the economic laws of supply and demand.

Bollywood and its use of social causes. Image source: hindinews18.com

Mardaani (2014) I went with a friend to watch Mardaani not knowing what it was about but because I am a fan of Rani Mukherjee. Though the movie turned out to be a very unexpected experience. Rani as Shivani is a committed officer of the police force with a supportive husband who backs her despite odds. It’s the story of a powerful ego struggle between the police officer and the kingpin of the trafficking trade. Shivani is taken off the case but she continues to pursue it with the help of a couple of juniors.

I personally had a problem with the title of the film - Mardaani. It’s a well-known acronym for Lakshmibai, the Rani of Jhansi and was bestowed on her because of her manly qualities. But why must a police officer be termed “mardaani”? Is she not equally trained in taking on offenders as much as her male colleagues?

Another issue for me was the climax which shows Shivani pushing the girls to punish the young ring-leader by bashing him up so badly that he lands in a wheelchair. Can, and should, a high-ranking responsible police officer allow the victims to take the law in their own hands?

I felt the director was taking his audience on a jolly ride into girl-trafficking though the motives were distanced from this social issue. They were focussed on showcasing the versatility of Rani Mukherjee as a protagonist who can carry a film without the support of a hero, pure commerce to rake in the money and enlisting itself at film festivals through the subject of trafficking.

Related: The Madam Of A Brothel Told Me, “All That Matters In Life Is Big Boobs And Long Hair.”

13-year olds forced into prostitution. Image source: thecommunityjournal.com

Lakshmi (2014) I had similar problems with the title of this film. It’s ironical because in every second Indian middle-class home, the girl is named Lakshmi, perhaps in the hope that she will augur good fortune for the family. The film is hard-hitting but after a point, it becomes too in-your-face. The process of initiating the 13-year-old girl into prostitution is graphically detailed. The brothel madam teaches her to apply some ointment before servicing her clients to ease the pain. Lakshmi is also given hormone injections to flesh out her body before time, and is repeatedly raped by the pimp Chinna (Kukunoor) because she tries to escape. I personally found the repeated violence on Lakshmi and the other girls visually repulsive and voyeuristic and felt they could have been avoided. Add to this the terribly melodramatic climax that takes away the soul of the film.

At a special screening of Lakshmi for sex workers in a red-light area in Mumbai, Kukunoor was accosted by a group of extremely overwrought sex workers who wanted to know who played the nasty pimp in the film. “Agar woh mil jaye to hum ussey aisa sabak sikhaayenge ki naani yaad aa jayegi” (If we find him, we will teach him a lesson he’ll remember). When they learned that the director himself had played the pimp, the women attacked him till he had to be whisked away. He may have begun with the right intention but did not quite expect this negative reaction.

Love Sonia - a breath of fresh air. Image source: indiawest.com

Love Sonia (2018) The latest in this line is Love Sonia, directed by US based Tabrez Noorani. It’s about a 17-year-old village girl Sonia, who is very closely bonded to her younger sister Preeti. Their world is shaken when Preeti goes missing, actually having been sold by her poverty-stricken father to flesh traders. Sonia goes looking for her and lands up in the same situation. This journey exposes the violent underpinnings of trafficking in human flesh, mainly of very young girls. It travels through the international den of trafficking and sex trade to Hong Kong and Los Angeles.

My personal grouse is with different aspects of the film - the camera focussing on the pained face of the sad father (Adil Hussain) because I feel it rings false. No father can be forgiven for selling his daughter. Scenes are very graphic and violent and many among the audience may not be able to take it. The good thing about the film is the lack of stars, except Richa Chada and Frieda Pinto (if we can call them stars). It is mainly a female dominated film with a peppering of Manoj Bajpayee who does a menacing act well.

Related: A Brothel That Is James Bond’s Namesake, A Bomb Site And Some Dance-Bar Hopping

The question is – are such films genuine attempts to draw attention to trafficking? Or are they trying to piggyback on trafficking to gain easy access to film festivals and awards? The subject lends itself to the voyeuristic instincts of a sex-hungry audience and this can function as a temptation for a new, or a struggling filmmaker to shift focus from social responsibility to titillation and sensation, which will make a producer happy. These films offer scope for a lot of skin show, vulgar dialogues, sensual body language and doses of sex and violence. They are full Bollywood masala - vulnerable girls, shady agents, sex workers, brothel madam, pimp, muscle man, NGO worker and last but not the least, the client.

In the final analysis I feel, though we have moved away from the likes of Mausam and Bazaar, we still have a long way to go. But these recent films prove that cinema is not only for entertainment but also for information, awareness and social change.

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are independent views solely of the author(s) expressed in their private capacity and do not in any way represent or reflect the views of 101India.com

By Shoma A. Chatterji Cover photo credit: washingtonpost.com

#101India news sex trafficking india