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mangowafflesss · 4 months

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HATRED FOR YOU | PART 4

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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Writer!Reader

Summary: You spend the day with Simon [Simon performing multiple book boyfriend activities]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 5]

{Tags: @dontyouworrydaddy @chrrybl0ss0m @skulfan1 @lialacleaf @ghosts-cyphera @delaynew @arminarlertssword @vynz0ne @the-faceless-bride @plk-18 @gluttonybiscuits @jinxxangel13 @redrumarsenic @redheaded-hobbit }

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Simon opened his metal mailbox with the key and grabbed the contents inside before locking it shut. He flicked through the letters quickly before his eyes lit up at the brown package in his hands. He doesn't bother waiting for the elevator to come and instead bolts it up the stairs, skipping a couple at a time till he reaches his floor.

He fumbles with his keys to his front door and eventually drops them on the floor, with a huff he bends down to pick them up and as he does he hears your door open.

“Oh, morning neighbour” he heard you say in a strange country accent. He peered at you over his shoulder to acknowledge your presence and stopped when he saw you dressed like you’re about to fight off the biggest breeze in history.

Turning around fully he cocks his head to the side as he takes in your appearance, a massive scarf is wrapped around your neck almost covering your mouth and a matching hat sits upon your head. A woolly, knee length coat swallows you and he watches as you pat your pockets with an annoyed huff.

“It's not that cold today” he states and you stop your pocket tapping before returning your attention to him. “It says it's going to snow today. Can't be too careful with the weather” true, but also Simon can’t remember a time when it had ever been that cold when living here, but he doesn't know what people feel.

You unlock your front door with slight annoyance before picking up your gloves you left inside and place them safely in your pocket while you lock the door back up again. When you return back onto the landing you notice Simon is still standing where you left him, your gaze lands on the brown package nestled under his armpit and you nod your head towards it.

“What've you got in there?” you ask while pulling on your gloves. He lifts it from under his arm and waves it “A book” you hum softly and see the faint sticker that has your publishing logo printed on it peeking through a gap in his fingers. “I hope you enjoy it” you take a step towards the doors of the elevators and hear Simon move behind you.

“Where are you going?” he asks, curious as to where you’re about to spend your day. “Why? You want to come with me?” you joke but he doesn't say anything so you clear your throat in the awkward silence. “I was going to go for a walk, clear my mind then perhaps stop by that new bookstore in town” he looks into the air as if he's picturing where the bookstore you’re talking about is and simply nods.

When he turns to his door, you move forwards towards him and as he gets through his door you catch his attention. “You could come with me, if you aren't busy. I could always use a second opinion when buying books” you smile and point towards the one still locked in his grip.

Please say yes, please, please, pleaseeee don't leave me here looking like an idiot (again).

“I'll come”

“Perfect”

You wait as he rummages through his apartment before coming back out with a jacket to put over his hoodie. You raise an eyebrow at him as you both walk towards the elevator doors, he presses the button and as you wait you speak “I thought you said it wasn't that cold?” you gesture to his jacket and he shrugs before answering “Maybe you might need it, I’m very considerate” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

He walks into the elevator and you follow closely behind. On the ride down it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence as it usually is when you’re with other people who live in the building.

The doors woosh open and you both walk towards the front door of the building. He pulled open the door and held it so you could walk through first. Saying a quick thanks, you go out into the street and wait for him to join you, it doesn't take him long due to his big strides.

You walk side by side down the street, cars drive past while birds fly over your heads with a small tweet. It was peaceful at this time of day and you loved it. There was a small breeze and the further you walked you realised that maybe you were being a little over dramatic with the accessories.

Not wanting to show he was right, you continue with the small conversation you were having while you walked through the town you lived in.

“So what you’re telling me is, you can’t tell me what you do but all I need to know is that it's dangerous?” you say slowly, trying to put his previous words together in your head. He hums softly and you look up at him with questioning eyes.

“Is this why I don’t see you very often?” he hums again and you scoff “You're a man of many words aren't you” another hum comes from mouth and you groan in fake annoyance.

“Well alright, I’m not telling you about my super dangerous job either” you say with a smirk on your face as you turn the corner to your favourite place.

You walk through the door with a smile on your face as you hear the very same jingle you always do. The overpowering smell of everything sweet just hits you and you turn to Simon who is looking at his surroundings.

“I know what you’re probably thinking… ‘What are we doing here? This is not part of the plan’ well Mr I don’t take shortbread from strangers, we’re here to get the very thing you’ve yet to try in my presence” you point to the display cabinet and smile brightly at the options.

“You really want me to try it don’t you?” You nod slowly with the same, slightly creepy, smile on your face. He sighs softly and gestures for you to move towards the counter that you’re not paying attention to.

When you turn around after the customers in front of you leave your body lights up. “Rocco! Your finest shortbread my good sir!” You pat the marble top and the man behind rolls his eyes “You’re very energetic this morning, does it have anything to do with the fella you walked in with” he points at you and then at Simon with metal tongs and you shake your head immediately.

“We’re neighbours” you say simultaneously and briefly glance at one another. Rocco puts his hands up in a defensive stance before returning to his task. “I wanted him to try your shortbread, he refused last time so I’m determined to shove it down his throat” you smile sweetly up at your neighbour who just playfully shoves your knee with his.

“Well, I hope he enjoys” Rocco pushes the bag Simon’s way and as you hand the money to the shop worker he shakes his head “You know everything’s on the house for you. Have a good day” you scoff before shoving the money into the tip jar like you always do and follow Simon outside.

Not even two seconds out of the door and you bounce on your heels and practically jump at the man next to you. “Try some!” You urge and watch him pull out a piece and put it in his mouth. You watch him intensely and see the change in his expression when he swallows the sweet treat.

“So…”

“It’s good”

“Just good?”

He hums and you punch him in the arm “You’re playing with me! Tell me how you really feel” you wait for him to answer you and as you do, you reach into the bag but before you get near it he holds it close to his chest “I thought these were for me?” He teases and you glare at him. “I hate you”

“Fine. They’re great, the best I’ve ever had” he admits in a rather unenthusiastic way but it’s probably the only answer you’ll get. “I knew you would”

The rest of the walk went well, you chatted about random subjects while spotting things in your environment. You both snacked on some shortbread and Simon broke the last piece in half to share so you’ll have ‘equal pieces’ even though you’re sure you had one extra than he did.

When you arrive at the new bookstore you’re blown away at the size of it.

“It has three floors?!” You pull on Simon’s sleeve as you look up at the other floors above. He follows your movements and takes a look at the sheer size of the place.

You browse through the many rows of books and skim through different pages of certain ones you’re thinking about getting, you ask Simon for his opinion and he says some very good points. Sometimes.

“It’s just another romance” he states and you look at him with a deadpan look.

“And?”

“You have three already, don’t you like any other genres?”

“Don’t you like romance?”

“Do I look like I read romance” he points to himself and you take a chance to look at him from head to toe very slowly while humming to yourself as if you’re thinking.

You already know the answer which is very amusing.

“I think you enjoy a good old romcom” you say while turning back to the shelf in front of you and reading the blurb of a book. You add it to your pile in your arms and leave him standing in the romance section to be with his thoughts.

You walk past a sign of worldwide best sellers and see yours at the top of the pile in all its glory.

“Have you ever read their books?” A voice says behind you and you nearly drop all the books in your arms. Swirling around you see Simon standing there with his hands in his pockets while reading the sign of best sellers.

Have you ever read their books? Yes, In fact I wrote them but no one knows it’s me because I’ve hidden my identity the entire time except from a select few.

“No, are they good?” You try to act normal but you’re most definitely not acting normal right now. Is it really hot in here all of a sudden?

“I love them. Mystery’s are my favourite” he answers and you point to a sign saying romance below the sign “oh yeah? And what does that say?”

“There’s a small amount of romance, it’s not entirely romantic”

“Mmhmm, okay lover boy. It’s okay to admit you like something you know” you laugh and he stands there with his arms over his chest like a toddler.

“C’mon lover boy! We’ve got another floor to explore” you shout over your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs leading to the higher level.

You move around the last floor with excitement, this is the darkest level. Low lights to match the content of the ink in the pages all around you. You readjust your grip on the books in your arm, which were getting heavy, and look in awe at the books around you.

The covers were decorated beautifully, the ends of pages were sometimes covered by the most beautiful colour of gold or red you’ve ever seen.

You bend down to pick a book off the bottom shelf and as you do so a book falls off your pile you created in your arm.

When you go to pick it up you’re already beat to it. “Pass them here” he reaches for the books in your arms and you don’t have a chance to do anything as he takes the pile from you.

“It’s okay, you don’t have-”

“Go pick whatever you want” he nods his head to the shelf and you give him one last look before piling more books into his arms.

You leave the bookstore with a bag full of new reads to put on your new shelf. Simon got one book which you paid for after a small fight in front of the cashier.

You both walk back to your apartment building, Simon holding the bag of books as if they don’t weigh a ton.

It was silent for a while until Simon decided to talk first. “How do you know Rocco?” He asks and you take in a deep breath before releasing it into the now frigid air.

“I was new to town. I was exploring and saw the bakery with only a few customers inside, I didn’t go in straight away. I waited a couple of weeks before I actually ventured inside and when I did it was amazing. He helped me when I couldn’t and I feel as if I owe him everything” you speak fondly of the man as you zone out of reality for a second.

“He seems like a nice bloke”

“Very. His wife, Steph, is lovely too. Sometimes I feel as if they’re my second parents” you laugh softly at memories of them in your head but they fade away as you feel something touch your nose.

Stopping for a second, you scan your surroundings and see small flecks of white fall softly in your vision.

“Oh my god! I was right! It’s snowing” you turn to Simon and see some of the snowflakes settling into his hair. His nose and cheeks are a little pink due to the temperature drop and you take in the scene for a second before carrying on your walk.

As you arrive at your building, you open the door this time and let Simon enter first. He dips his head to you and shakes his head to let the excess water weighing down his hair out. You let out a squeal and shove at him to move him.

“Hey! That’s not fair” you wipe the water from your face with a scowl but stop when you notice how adorable he looks right now. Messy hair, cold bitten face and a cheeky smile on his face.

Before you do something stupid you take off towards the elevator and press the button. He arrives next to you a moment later and you both wait before getting inside and riding up to your floor.

You silently tap your finger against your bag before hearing the familiar ding and the doors opening.

You both get out and you walk towards your door before hearing him clear his throat behind you. Turning around you see him holding up the bag of books into the air as if you had forgotten about them, his book already in his other hand.

Taking a step towards him you grab the handles and when you do you feel the coldness of his hands. “Your hands are so cold!”

“It is snowing outside”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t hide the smile on your face and retreat to your front door. “Thank you for the fun day”

“It’s my pleasure” he says before unlocking his door and disappearing inside, you do the same and get to work putting your new buys away.

Simon enters his apartment and spots the brown package still waiting for him on the table in his living room. Abandoning the new book he you bought, he goes straight for that and rips it open, eager to get inside.

The silvery cover shines brightly in his eyes and a small smile breaks out onto his face. Carefully opening the cover he’s met with something special.

To Simon,

Thank you for your support of loving Hatred for You! I hope you enjoy your special edition copy.

Lots of love, Y. N. ♡

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader

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cowboymater · 1 year

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controversial opinion maybe:

I KNOW. i know. hear me out

i saw a couple edits on tiktok of mcspirk to soldier poet king and like. i’m not putting anyone on blast but good lord some of those choices made my head hurt. it’s taken me a couple days to synthesize my reasoning for the superior choice (as pictured above), but here goes:

the problem with assigning characters to soldier poet king comes when you take it at face value, flattening the paradigm to angry-sad-tired or violent-artsy-authoritative. if we want to get down to the root of it, the song is based on the threefold office of christ as priest (soldier), prophet (poet), and king. like i’m not christian, but on a textual level it gives us context: the concept that as prophet jesus gave us counsel and words of wisdom, as priest he sacrificed himself to redeem us, and as king he provides for, defends, and forgives us

maybe the most famous priest/prophet/king (& thus soldier/poet/king) allegory in all of literature is frodo, gandalf, and aragorn. frodo bears the burden, though he wishes he did not need to; gandalf offers words of wisdom and mercy; aragorn is a born leader, on the front lines with sword in hand, ready to die with his men if he must

KING: capt. james t. kirk is the easiest one to place. it is a burden and a privilege, an honor and a horror to have the lives of so many depend upon you to make the right call under fire. he makes the call. he leads the landing parties, he puts himself at the head of the charge because by god he is not about to send his men into a battle he wouldn’t fight himself. he leads—with heart when he can, steel when he must—and people follow him. bones and spock are always right behind because they believe in what he believes in, and more than that they believe in him

POET: bones serves as kirk’s emotional sounding board, his moral peer review. he lends an ear, and the word of an old country doctor who’s seen much and understands more. man has ascended to the heavens, to hurtling through the void in a glorified tin can, and it would be no great hardship to forget that our place in the universe is not that of higher life—we are not as quasi-gods, moving pieces on the great three-dimensional chessboard, but flesh and blood, and we must attend to each other. bones tempers the pure logos and rationality offered by spock; he offers grounding in this age of technology that wrinkles the fabric of reality, offers the kind of emotional intellect that cannot be taught, and has always been sorely needed

SOLDIER: this is the one where you really get tripped up by surface-level analysis. yes, spock is reserved and collected. yes, vulcans are pacifists (as you may recall, so are hobbits, and yet frodo remains the soldier in allegory)

the thing about vulcans, though, is that despite the vegan pacifism, they are warriors. it’s tangled up in their history and their DNA. the koon-ut-kal-if-fee survived through centuries of analytical dogma for a reason; even now, they cannot wholly escape their inheritance of violence. their forefathers ran the sands of vulcan green with blood. they venerate logic and condemn emotionality so that they will not

your average high-achieving vulcan, probably on the path to kolinahr, commits their lifetime to the pursuit of knowledge at the vulcan science academy. it’s a measured, rational decision. a controlled environment, where there will never be any logical reason to resort to violence

spock joins starfleet

he joins starfleet, and pursues knowledge in the vast unknowable universe. there is reason for violence, frequently. and sure, the purpose of their mission is peaceful. it’s true that spock would rather resolution be reached without force. but a soldier needs not want to be a soldier. he only needs go to war

when it comes down to blows, he will match them. he makes the sacrifice play, jumps on the grenade, goes into the radiation-soaked engineering room alone. it’s only logical, after all

spock is there to pick apart the universe, unravel the threads of logic until it all makes sense. bones is there to stitch it up. kirk is the hand that holds it all steady, the gravitational field that binds the people of the enterprise to their purpose. soldier-poet-king, commander-doctor-captain. it’s a story old as dirt, and we’ll keep telling it, i think

edit: my bad vulcans have. green blood

#puts on my “no one understands these characters like i do” hat #spock. (raucous applause)#star trek #star trek tos #star trek the original series #jim kirk #spock #bones mccoy #character analysis #soldier poet king #the oh hellos #lotr mention #longpost #mcspirk #triumvirate #txt

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novelmonger · 3 months

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Continuing to watch through the Writer/Director commentary of LotR (with Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh) and jotting down any new-to-me information I come across. Here's what I gleaned from TTT:

When they got the New Line logo to put on the movies, it was very old and scratched, so PJ gave it to Weta to touch it up. They joked about how they should bill New Line for it XD

Originally, the studio wanted TTT to start off with a prologue too, with Cate Blanchett narrating what sounds like it was basically going to be a "Previously on..." spiel, even though they didn't like the idea of the prologue in the first one. Thankfully, these three ignored the studio's advice both times XD

The Uruk who says "Manflesh" is also the guy in Sauron's armor in the prologue!

In the scene where the Rohirrim find Theodred, it's not actually raining! They used rain towers for the close-ups, but any wide shots just have CG rain. I would never have guessed!

Andy Serkis did the voices for the Uruk-Hai who says the "maggoty bread" line, and the orc who says, "Yeah, why can't we have some meat?" (The actor in the suit for the latter is, of course, Jed Brophy, who went on to play Nori in the Hobbit movies.)

Somehow it never registered for me that Orlando Bloom has brown eyes, and so he had to wear blue contacts when he played Legolas ^^' But sometimes he wasn't able to wear the contacts (or forgot), so there are some scenes where they had to fix it in post.

PJ called the Treebeard from the animated Bakshi movie "a walking carrot" XD He also said that Treebeard is his favorite character!

The scene with Smeagol killing Deagol was originally going to be a flashback right after Frodo says his name, and then the Nazgul shriek would pull the audience out of the flashback. They decided not to do that for pacing reasons and because we haven't spent much time with Gollum yet, so that's why they put it at the beginning of RotK instead.

Bernard Hill had his son with him on the shoot and would play with him in his downtime on the Edoras set. Puts things into perspective when you hear that he was the one who came up with the line "No parent should have to bury their child."

They were originally looking at Bernard Hill for Gandalf! (I feel like I've probably heard this before, but anyway.)

They filmed a flashback to Aragorn and Arwen's first meeting?! Viggo shaved to make himself look younger, and it was a scene of the two of them "frolicking about the forest." It was originally going to be put in the Lothlorien sequence, but they cut it out in favor of that scene between Aragorn and Boromir, because they decided it was more important to earn Boromir's death scene than to remind the audience of the romance. I agree with that decision, but it would be cool to see that footage! (I say as someone who prefers to skip the TTT Aragorn/Arwen scene entirely XD)

Originally, the warg battle was going to happen at Edoras itself. It was going to be at night, everything was going to be on fire, and ultimately that was going to be the reason everyone evacuated and went to Helm's Deep. Also, a warg was going to be set on fire and end up dragging Aragorn through the streets, and that was going to be how Aragorn would be left for dead. Ultimately, the reason they did it the way they did was because the studio wasn't sure Weta could do a flaming warg (something all three of them laughed about, considering everything Weta did manage to do with flying colors), and because it would have been a nightmare to light the Edoras set at night, because that location was so remote and so windy. Which is why every scene in Edoras takes place in the daytime!

In the scene where Faramir talks about his dream where he saw Boromir in the boat, you can see a sort of pinkish color in the water around Boromir's body. That's because the dye from his shirt (surcoat? idk) was leaking out into the water! XD

When Andy Serkis did ADR for the Forbidden Pool scene, he couldn't manage to sing the song off-key, so they had to use the audio from the motion capture footage XD

They shot some additional footage of Aragorn unconscious on Brego's back, riding past an orc encampment, that they never ended up using.

Theoden was originally going to give a speech to the soldiers in the armory, but Bernard Hill's performance was so inspiring that it defused most of the tension they were trying to build up before the battle, so they took it out. Would love to see that footage!

So the boy Aragorn encourages before the battle ("There is always hope.") was Philippa Boyens' son, who was 13 when they filmed the scene. But by the time they went to do ADR, his voice had broken, so they had to get a different child actor to say his lines.

Aww, the extra who was missing an eye said he always felt self-conscious about his missing eye, so he always wore an eyepatch. But then after they gave him a close-up and the guy saw the movie, he said he felt much better about his appearance! :')

Treebeard's line "I always like going south; it feels like going downhill" was ad-libbed!

When Saruman turns and reacts to all the water pouring in and washing his machinery away, that shot was actually a reaction shot to Wormtongue on top of the tower from the RotK movie that they repurposed for this scene instead, since they hadn't shot any reactions to the flood.

At least at the time of the recording of this audio commentary, the final shot of Gollum, where he's arguing with himself and ultimately decides to lead Frodo and Sam to Shelob, was the longest CG shot in any movie. (I tried to google what the current record is, but couldn't find anything, so if anyone knows, I'd love to hear about it!)

Fran Walsh: "All cinema storytelling, to a degree, is shallow. That's the nature of the medium. You've got two or three hours to present a world and a dense story with a hundred themes and a ton of backstory, in this instance, and 22 characters...so you can only really have the veneer of depth. You really can't have anything that comes close to the depth of the books, or the experience of the books. So I think what we attempted to do was to use the language of the books where we could and to certainly invoke them, the iconic images, where we could, but to keep the storytelling very much...to modernize it, if you like, in terms of cinema language. So we didn't, for example, use the style of storytelling that was in the books between these different after-the-fact storytelling, of Sam and Frodo and then a chunk of the Aragorn story. We completely undercut it. That was a far more immediate and engaging way to connect it to the audience. You can't really hope to satisfy people who adore this book, with the movie. You can only ever give them the sense of what might have been. That's all a film can do. I think, in that sense, films...I mean, they're entertainments. They're just not going to give you the pleasure that a book can give you."

#lord of the rings #lotr #the two towers #peter jackson #philippa boyens #fran walsh #i feel like i learned more with this one than the fotr one which was cool!

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aroacesetitoff · 3 months

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OG Infinight Reference Sheet + Headcanons

Marcy Burns/Elleve the Amender

-4 feet tall

-its mentioned that she has "rainbow robes" and ive decided to interpret that as sunset colored

-pre mining accident Marcy has longer hair and has already lost her eye to unknown circumstances

-post mining accident Marcy cut her hair and it turned whiter, and she switched to more monochrome clothing-symbolizes her turning away from her faith and also grieving her husband

-still wears her wedding ring, and keeps Fred's on a chain with a locket of his picture

-we know literally nothing abt Fred but I think he was also a halfling and had a sick ass mustache

-the symbol on pre-accident Marcy's eyepatch + staff is supposed to be of the Diarians (followers of Dia). The circle is Faeza, the hands are Dia herself, and the six teardrop shapes are the Diagems. Also meant to resemble a flower as a reference to Gum Gum

-magic goblet-does it have a name? Anyways Paralyte stole it from the Sheerays so I gave it an aquatic wave/seaweed design (water = life)

-idk how to design tattoos, but other clerics of dia would probably have similar ones-i think hers are religious in nature

Ostin Tashe/Slique the Symphonius

-ya boiiii

-4'6-so just barely taller than Bart. Barely

-had the most satisfying color palette for me- i love green and so does he

-i rewatched the hobbit/lotr trilogies so Ostin is def inspired by that-gave him braided hair and armor

-idk how a tuning sword works. Like a bident maybe? Ive drawn the sword in his right hand (the one with missing fingers) but he might prefer to fight left-handed. Idk ive trained with longswords before but ive never lost any fingers so i cant say

-magic lute-gave it a greener/mossier color palette to show it was from the Elderpines. The strings are vines and the rosette has a tree design

-dont know where Ostin's scars came from either, maybe he really did fight a dragon maybe he didnt-doesnt stop him

-post-Wight Winter i gave Slique a grey streak to match with Spectril

-also gave him a cool colored eye highlight for the same reason

Leonard Lank/Spectril the Surreptitious

-i put his height around 5'7/5'8

-made the rogue armor sharp and dark-had to recolor it from the origianly palette bc it was too dark tho lmao. Fur collar to foreshadow his time in the Ethereal Plane

-post-Wight Winter i gave him simple, more homey clothes bc at that point he had a family and wasn't focused on fighting. The fur is not bear fur i swear

-already mentioned it before but his hair started turning white + he grew it out/braided it back.

-he's got normal rogue daggers, and then the Ethereal daggers. Not shown but yeah they fade in and out of the Material and Ethereal Plane

-"Walls Have Ears-Doors Have Eyes" by Clan D. Stine-the wiki i think mentioned him having books that let him turn invisible and walk through walls-this one's definitely a Leitner (ifykyk)

-boots-deceptively simple in design from the Elderpines

-piercings include several ear piercings, snake bites, and an eyebrow piercing

-warm colored eye highlight to match with Slique-your honor i have (accidentally) sun/moon coded then because they are gay

Luz Prattle/Paralyte

-6'0 tall and definitely uses it for intimidation

-i think she dresses kinda emo/alt

-the only infinight with a unique logo-instead of two crossed swords its a snake eating itself

-committing to the snake bit-i gave her scale armor

-the gloves have two talons on the pointer and middle finger, based very specifically off a homebrew item i saw where the hand kind of looks like a biting snake. It contains a venom that paralyzes enemies and came from the Sheerays

-put a snake on her sword. Cause why not. Thats why she teamed up with Brink they are both snake lovers

-not drawn, but she would have a snake tattoo somewhere on her body

-hands are turning dark at the fingertips as a side effect of using the gloves so often. Her veins are visibly green because shes pale as hell and also suffering from long term exposure to Sangrianite

-facial scar-man im sorry i dont know where this one came from either. Kyborg shot her once tho i do remember that

Bo Bender/Grislee the Groundbreaker

-height is about 6'6, very tall lady

-all i had to go off was red bandana so its like her thing

-her locs are made of rocks and also have veins of gold in them

-the stuff on her shoulders and hammer are lichen-she takes such long naps outside they've started growing on her. And also earth genasi

-when shes raging she has magma veins coming from her eyes and hands, and the inside of her body also glows

-when shes not raging it cools to golden veins-still very hot to the touch sometimes

-didnt have a lot if ideas for her second outfit but i gave her a bearskin bc she is "grizzly"

-hammer is the other item from the Sheerays and is pretty much just a trunk on a stick in terms of design. Combined with the lute tho, they are probably some of the most powerful items in Faeza

Man thats a lot of characters. Should i have made these before I made 3 painting and a comic page? Yeah. But i didnt lol. Enjoy✌️

edit: fixed the magic item origins

#my art #tales from the stinky dragon #tftsd #slique the symphonius #ostin tashe #spectril the surreptitious #leonard lank #elleve the amender #marcy burns #grislee the groundbreaker #bo bender #paralyte #luz prattle #stinkydragonpod

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

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Part 1: An Academic

The Hobbit / Doctor Who : Multishot

The Company x Reader x Tenth Doctor

Word Count: 5315

Warnings:

Request: “Hi so know this is a bit of a weird one but could I request maybe a two part type thing or it can just be super long if that’s easier for you. But the reader is from earth but finds herself in middle earth and help’s reclaim Erebor but gets sent back and then around the 10 years later or something they meet the doctor (you pick on what doctor) and he takes her to middle earth but it’s set in the lotr time and they are just confused at how much has changed and that they get to meet the company and they are happy to know that they are alive and refuse to believe that they have grown up. If it’s too much then don’t worry about it and have a good day/night and drink some water :)” @tree0frog

A/N:

(Y/N) bit into an apple, crisp and sweet as she jogged up the steps of the apartment complex. She used her keycard to scan the lock, entering her humble student housing. It was by no means a luxury with it’s outdated appliances, shotty internet, and suspicious black spots growing on the shower walls.

But it was what she could afford considering the part time job, full time student schedule, and car payments. She was just thankful to have a private room.

She finished her apple and sought the computer to finish a few homework assignments. Having just started her first semester of college, she made it a goal to prioritize schoolwork.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with watching something while finishing an essay. She opened a streaming service and found the Hobbit trilogy, letting the droll of dwarves and the fire of dragons fill the background as she typed away.

The endearing antics of Bilbo making her smile while the stories of Bofur made her laugh. Her eyes whipped to spot the scenes containing the line of Durin: Thorin’s wavy hair or Kili’s beautiful face.

She began to hum the tune of Misty Mountains, standing to find herself a drink. She went for her bedroom door –

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old.

We must away ‘ere break of day,

To find our long, forgotten gold.

(Y/N) walked through the door and screamed.

“Holy shit!” She danced on her bare feet, feeling soil and weeds tickle her toes. She was covering her face, suddenly blinded by a harsh orange light.

Her heart was beating so fast it was propelling itself into her throat. She began to blink rapidly, adjusting to her new surroundings.

She was outside on a rocky outcrop. A nearby ledge spoke of the base of mountains. Sparse pine trees and crumbling rock descended to a wide stretch of field land below. Birds could be heard near the pinecones and snapping twigs told of life all around her. The overwhelming orange glow that attacked her sight turned out to be the setting sun.

It blazoned the horizon with its ombre of colors, quickly fading into pink and violet. It flooded the surrounding land, not a house or building to be seen.

(Y/N) gapped, inaudible noises falling from her open lips. She whirled around, seeking the chipped bedroom door she had just walked through. But there was nothing but the steady incline of the rocky mountainside behind her.

“What in the…” she gasped, “What?” She raised a hand and touched her face, prodding at the soft skin there. It felt real. She reached out and touched the pine needles of a nearby tree. It poked her finger, acute and sharp. That felt real too.

“Did I fall asleep at my computer?” she whispered to herself. She pinched at her arm, “Am I dreaming?”

She suddenly slapped at her face, gasping at the sting. “There’s no way this is real.”

But the chill of the coming night air was prickling her bare legs and feet. She was wearing nothing but her pajamas, a sweatshirt with her college logo on it and a pair of black shorts.

“Am I just disassociating?” she questioned, “Have I just fallen into my imagination?”

A terrible growl reverberated between the jagged slopes of the mountainside. It was so low and menacing it grumbled in her abdomen. It made her jump.

“Oh, god.” She found her feet beginning to descend the rocky outcrop, arms flailing to keep her balance, “God tell me there isn’t something chasing me.”

She winced and groaned as little pebbles and sharp needles stuck in her feet. The large rock mounds were becoming smaller as more and more pine trees grew from the ground. (Y/N) ran towards the open field, at least getting away from whatever the terrible growl was.

“I’ve finally lost my mind,” she decided, “It’s been a week and college already broke me.”

Her feet slid against the loose soil, toes jabbing into rocks. Spiney branches of pine needles snagged at her hair and sweatshirt. Another spine tingling growl bounced through the air, making her squeal and stumble.

One of her feet dug into a tree root, throwing her into the ground. She rolled down a portion of the mountainside, nearing the bottom. Gasping and crying all the while, she landed in a heap near the beginnings of long field grass.

She could already feel the bruises forming along her joints, but her bare legs had the worst of it. Long jagged cuts and scrapes covered her skin.

The newfound pain combined with the rising paranoia sent crazed tears to her eyes. “Can someone please tell me what is happening?” The answering roar was not the response she was hoping for.

It sent her scrambling to her feet, “I magically appear on the Rocky Mountains and a grizzly bear decides to hunt me.” She began treading more carefully through the grass, “Definitely not how I pictured spending my Saturday night.”

She spent the next hour limping about the tall, sage green grasses. Bunches of lavender and daisies led her to a tree line much different to the pine of the mountain. Broad leafy branches provided cover as she followed the sound of trickling water.

Resting at a pebbled stream, she drank her fill and took the time to clean her wounds, scrubbing away the grimy feeling of dirt.

“I haven’t seen a single road or car or building,” she thought, “There’s got to be a city nearby.”

The sky was now a deep purple – soon it would be blue black with night. If she didn’t find refuge somewhere then she’d fall prey to wandering beasts and the bitter cold.

Using the last hour to collect her thoughts, (Y/N) found her shock wearing off. Replacing it was the instincts to survive no matter how unbelievable the transition from bedroom to the wilderness was.

She followed the stream until something other than the periodical growl caught her attention.

A deep round of laughter.

She limped towards the noise – where there was laughter there had to be people that could help her.

She was cautious as the sound of conversation accompanied the laughs. Loud, bellowing voices led her out from behind the trees. In the distance she could see a house, complete with a barn, wooden fences, and wandering cattle.

Near the entrance was a pile of logs, a trio of men collecting what appeared to be firewood. One was slumped to the ground trying to hold the many planks of wood. The other two were tossing an axe between them and laughing merrily.

“How do you fair folk get wood for your furnaces?” one said with mirth, a scottish accent to his words.

“You can hardly carry three logs,” the other added, swinging the axe. He tossed another cut piece at their third companion.

The shortest of the three attempted to catch the wood, but failed miserably as he was put off balance and crashed to the ground.

“Blasted dwarves,” he muttered, “And your ridiculous fondness of axe wielding.”

(Y/N) scrunched her brow, spying on them from the bushes. Dwarves?

“Come now, Mr. Baggins,” a braided dwarf said, “We’ve all got to pitch in to help our host.”

“Yeah, I don’t fancy being eaten,” the younger dwarf said.

(Y/N) was blinking hard. Did that dwarf just say Mr. Baggins?

“He’s not going to eat us,” said the dwarf with braids. They were sticking rather funnily out from under his hat. “Though I wouldn’t want to anger him by any means. Not out here at night.”

After a great deal of squinting, (Y/N) could now see who she believed to be a Mr. Bilbo Baggins readjusting planks of firewood in his arms.

He huffed, “Best get back inside. Shall we?”

The younger dwarf was still swinging the axe in a manner of showing off. In a swift throw he had the blade imbedded into the ground at Bilbo’s feet.

“Oi, watch it!” cried the hobbit.

The hat wearing dwarf burst into laughter despite the scolding of his words, “Now, Kili – what would we do without our burglar? I hear his feet are his best asset. He’ll be useless in a heist without them!”

Kili returned the laughter, clapping his friend on the shoulder and saying, “Apologies, Bilbo, but you should see the look on your face.”

(Y/N) was slowly revealing herself from behind the bushes, her mind whirring a million miles an hour. If the young, dark-haired dwarf was Kili, then the hat wearing dwarf had to be Bofur. She knew all of them.

All three of them were characters in the movie she was just watching.

That meant that those mountains behind her weren’t the Rocky Mountains… they were the Misty Mountains. And the wide expanse of land that didn’t have any bustling cities or busy roads… that was Middle Earth. And the house that hosted the company, that had to be the home of Beorn.

Beorn the skin changer. He was the terrible growl that she kept hearing in the woods.

This was the beginning of The Desolation of Smaug, and the company was taking refuge before venturing towards Mirkwood.

No, hang on a moment. This was absurd! How could she have walked through her bedroom door and have ended up on the slopes of the Misty Mountains? Sure she was watching the movie when she left, but how could that have…

She put a hand to her head, watching the trio of company members decide to return inside for the night. Her feet started moving against her will.

“Ex-Excuse me,” she whispered, clearing her throat to say it louder. “Excuse me!”

The three characters turned to her voice with quick precision, their previous laughter missing from their faces. Bofur was the first to speak – kind words with a hint of hesitance in them.

“Evening, lass,” he smiled though it didn’t reach his normally jovial eyes. “Who might you be?”

“I’m…” she swallowed hard, “My name is (Y/N). I’m not from around here. And I’m lost.”

Kili darted his eyes to her bare legs before trying to keep them resolutely on her face, “Pardon me, miss. But where are the rest of your skirts?”

(Y/N) tugged on her sweatshirt sleeves, letting them consume her hands, “I’m afraid I have nothing but shorts.”

“Shorts?” Bofur tested the word, “What are shorts?”

“Ah, they’re trousers, but cut at a short length.”

“Why in the name of Durin would you want that?” Bofur snorted. “It’s freezing outside.”

(Y/N) felt her cheek twitch in an almost smile, “Yes, I’ve figured that much out.” She gazed down at her legs, “I’ve been robbed of my supplies and have been wandering these woods for hours. I ask only for a place to stay the night, please.”

Bilbo began looking between his companions, expecting them to answer her instantly. But when they did nothing but contemplate her, he piped up, “Of course you can come in.” He scolded the dwarves, “Honestly, you two.”

“Now Bilbo,” Bofur said loudly, “We don’t know this lassie.”

“And she doesn’t know us,” Bilbo said firmly, “I’m not about to let this poor woman freeze to death.” He nodded towards (Y/N), “My dear, let’s go find you some proper clothes.”

“It’s not our house,” Kili said, still flustered by (Y/N)’s lack of pants. “We can’t accept new guests without consulting the host!”

Bilbo beckoned (Y/N) with his hands full of firewood, “He’s rather busy at the moment seeing as he’s currently a bear and all.”

That finally got a smile out of her even if the dwarves were still suspicious of her. She didn’t blame them – dwarves were a race full of pride and secrets, they don’t easily trust a newcomer.

“I’m very grateful,” she said to them, following Bilbo. “Really I am. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t come across you chopping wood.”

Bofur trailed behind, “Have you got a limp there, lass?”

“I took a tumble down the mountain,” she said quietly, “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Kili snorted, then shook his head as if he weren’t supposed to find suspicious strangers funny.

“We can get you on the mend,” Bilbo said, almost like a mother hen. “There’s plenty here to share.”

“How we’ll explain it to the others, I don’t know,” Bofur sighed, “Thorin won’t be pleased.”

“He’s hardly ever pleased these days,” Kili muttered, helping to open the door.

Inside the great wooden front doors was an oversized house. Everything was a size too big, even for a human. But it had that rich oak atmosphere where everything was warm and alight with the glow of the fire.

There were large wolf hounds guarding the entrances and ginormous bumblebees buzzing about the rafters and open windows. She could see the heads of cows popping in for a visit and a dwarf or two was feeding them straw.

The hoard of dwarves congregated mostly by the roaring fireplace, attempting to sit at too large of chairs.

(Y/N) was finding her eyes darting from one face to the next, cataloguing the familiar characters. Dwalin was sharpening a battle axe apparently ignoring the fussing tone of Dori beside him. Oin was stoking the flames while his brother Gloin was eyeing the fine gold plated jewelry box atop the mantelpiece.

Nori was polishing a thing of silver, admiring its shine while his younger brother Ori was scribbling away in his journal. Bombur and Bifur were washing dishes at the sink, which was the size of a bathtub and required both dwarves to stand on stools to reach. This left Thorin, Fili, and Balin – all three of them conversing quietly at the table.

“Right then,” Bilbo huffed, dumping his armful of wood. “You’re taller than me,” he addressed (Y/N), “But I suppose one of my shirts might fit you better than a dwarf.”

Bofur and Kili were sharing looks as their companions sensed the shift in atmosphere. Dwalin stood, battle axe poised in his hands in his most threatening stance.

Ori’s charcoal pencil paused in its scribbling, catching the attention of those beside him at the fireplace.

“What is this?” Gloin grumbled behind his bushy beard.

The table of conversers lifted their heads from where they were bent together. (Y/N) swallowed hard, looking to each with very clear fear in her gaze.

Bilbo was completely unbothered, rummaging in his pack for some extra clothes, “Some suspenders will help, but we’ll have to hem a pair of pants to fit you.”

“What have you done?” came the low growl of Thorin Oakenshield.

(Y/N) tugged on her clothes, suddenly wishing to be as small as possible.

Balin put a hand on Thorin’s arm, “Who have you brought with you, cousin?”

“Someone lost in the woods,” Bofur said awkwardly, picking at his knitted gloves, “She was seeking shelter.”

Thorin stood, hulking in his furs, “Is that all?”

“Where do you come from, lassie?” Dwalin drawled, moving to stand beside his king. “You and your strange clothes.”

(Y/N) mumbled as she searched for her voice. “I was – was in the Misty Mountains. Attempting to scale them, more like.” She blessed her knowledge of Middle Earth. “I was ravaged by goblins and sent tumbling down the mountain.”

“Goblins don’t leave their tunnels,” Nori said lowly, “They’d burn in the sun.”

“I was caught resting in a cave,” (Y/N) said quickly. She had to stop herself from adding, ‘that’s what happened to you guys too, right?’

Balin seemed more content with that answer, “Sounds like goblins well enough.”

“But your attire,” Gloin grumbled, “It’s not of any style I’ve seen on this earth.”

“The stitching is immaculate,” Fili remarked, “The lettering is such a strange pattern.”

That’s because it was mass produced by a mechanical sewing machine, (Y/N) thought. “This is the lettering of my house,” she gestured to the college logo, “I come from a family of academics.” She prayed that was believable, “We have some rather eccentric ways of thinking. That includes the evolution of clothing.”

Some of the dwarves became lost in that statement, clearly not as versed in academics and sciences. But others like Ori and Balin were intrigued, Bilbo as well as he produced a linen shirt and suspenders.

“I’ve never heard of such a house,” Balin mused, stroking his mighty beard. “Not in all my years working with genealogies.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek, “We are but a few. We created our own sigil and broke away from others to form our house.”

“How do we know this isn’t some trick,” Dwalin glowered, “I would like to know why this academic decided to venture over the mountains alone.”

She felt scrutinized under every eye in the house, it was making her quiver.

Bilbo was scolding everyone again, “For goodness sake,” he muttered, “Can’t you see she’s cold and injured. Honestly, don’t any of you have manners for the lady.” He offered the linen shirt and (Y/N) promptly held it to shield her legs from view.

Kili seemed torn between being a gentleman and respecting his uncle’s hesitance. In the end his conscious won, nudging (Y/N) to stand behind him.

“There’s no harm in providing her some supplies and a place to stay. We can consult our host in the morning.”

(Y/N) was feeling cornered. Did she tell them the truth? No, they’d never believe her. Does she reveal that she knows them all? That she knows their fate? She eyed the back of Kili’s head, envisioning what was to become of him during the Battle of the Five Armies.

“I don’t blame your suspicion,” she said quietly, “I know who you are and what you are trying to reclaim.”

Kili sidestepped to reveal her face. “What?”

Thorin growled, “Impossible.”

“She is an academic,” Ori muttered.

“What do you know?” Fili asked.

(Y/N) licked her lips, choosing her words carefully. “You are the company of Thorin Oakenshield. You’re on your way to reclaim Erebor beneath the Lonely Mountain. The throne of Thror, grandfather of your rightful king.”

Tension was building in the house, tangible in the way shoulders straightened and hands went for their weapons.

“I study tales and stories from all over Middle Earth. I know of all its secrets.”

“And I suppose you thought you could reclaim the treasure for yourself,” Dwalin said, “Seeing as you have such a wealth of knowledge to guide your path.”

“No,” she said loudly, “I only have an interest. I have no wish for glory. There is a dragon in that mountain, you know – how could I approach it all by myself.”

Oin said gruffly, “There is word that the dragon might’ve moved on. Birds have been…”

“… seen flocking to the mountain,” she finished, “That’s doesn’t mean anything. Believe me there’s still a dragon there asleep.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Dori asked.

“I told you, I come from a house of academics. We have eyes everywhere and they send us knowledge from all over the world.”

Balin harumphed, “Spies. The lot of you are spies.”

“In a way,” she muttered, “I grew tired of reading things secondhand. I wanted to experience it for myself. That is why I left my home.”

Bofur chuckled, “For someone so knowledgeable, you seem to have fallen short in your survival.”

She smiled warily, “It’s apparent I don’t have skill as a traveler. But I am still valuable.” She eyed Thorin, “I know the path your taking and the perils you’ll meet on the way. I know all the people you’ll converse with and the kingdoms you’ll pass through. I could help.”

“What is your name, lass?” Balin asked.

“(Y/N),” she said.

The old dwarf considered her before speaking, “Well, Kili – let’s get a pair of your pants and hem them for (Y/N).”

“Um…” Kili whipped his head around, eyeing his uncle as he said, “Yeah, of course.”

Bilbo held his head up, exasperated that it took that long to assist her. “Her legs will need tending as well.”

Thorin kept his piercing gaze on (Y/N) as she was led to the fireplace where Oin could mend her injuries. Balin and Fili kept his head level as they discussed the possible benefits of this new traveler.

(Y/N) spent the rest of the night conversing with the dwarves and Bilbo. They shared bread and honey with her as she wove an imaginative tale of where she came from and where she was going.

All she could think was how grateful she was for making the night.

~~~

They had made it to the woodland kingdom of Mirkwood, full of the arrogant, secretive elves under Thranduil’s reign. (Y/N) knew how they’d lock the dwarves up just for being of the opposing race.

She also knew that Bilbo had found the One Ring and was currently using it to remain invisible.

“Listen to me, Bilbo,” she had said to him the morning before being ambushed by the Mirkwood spiders. “In the Woodland Realm there is a river you can access through the wine cellar. Should we ever find the need for escape from that place, the barrels can be used to float down the river.”

Bilbo had looked at her with such clear confusion, still being affected by the poisonous air of Mirkwood, “How do you know that?”

She smiled at him, eyeing his pocket that concealed the ring, “We all have our secrets.”

He scrunched his face in thought as she led the company back through the forest.

Now slumped against the wall of the prison cell, (Y/N) hummed to herself, thinking of all the things she yearned from her past life. A hot bath with that lovely soap she got from the mall. Clothes warm from the dryer as she sang to her favorite playlist. Fast food she picked up on her way home.

“We’re never getting out of here,” Ori moaned in the cell across from her.

“I refuse to die by the hands of those prissy long eared fiends,” Dwalin grumbled. “We’ll find a way through these walls.”

“Yes, you will,” (Y/N) whispered to herself, banging her head against the cave wall.

She didn’t think anyone heard her until Balin muttered through the connecting window between their cells.

“What was that, lass?” he shifted closer, “How can you be sure?”

She choked on her words, “I have faith.”

“Hm…” Balin hummed, “You seem to have many predictions that have come to pass. Gandalf leaving us before Mirkwood…”

(Y/N) started rubbing at her temples, “I overheard him saying something.”

“The fact we would get lost in those woods.”

“Everyone gets lost in those woods.”

Balin chuckled, “How we would be captured by the elf king’s son. That Bilbo would somehow not be with us.”

She sighed, “Are you trying to make a point, master dwarf?”

The old dwarf paused, “I feel as though your circumstances arriving to this place are not what they seem.”

“What do you believe them to be?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, lassie. But I do wish you would be honest with me.”

She continued to bang her head against the cave wall, trying to will some inspired lie to grace her tongue. But her crafted mask was so layered it was exhausting to keep it on. She wanted to tell someone the truth.

“I come from a place very far from here.”

Balin remained silent for a minute, “We may be locked in here a while longer – I’m settled for a good story.”

“Yes, Bilbo will be here shortly.”

“How can you know that?” Balin chuckled again.

(Y/N) shrugged, unable to see any of her companions past her cell. “I just do. The elf guards are going to overindulge on wine as Bilbo makes his way down here to rescue us. He’ll take us to the cellars to escape.”

There was silence as the information was processed.

“Where I come from,” (Y/N) said quietly, “It’s a different universe. I’m not sure if you have a concept of what universes are.” She laughed to herself, “I’ve only ever seen them in movies.”

“Movies?” Balin questioned, “Never heard of such a thing.”

“It’s a form of storytelling, like a play. Everyone has scripts and costumes and characters to portray. They tell stories for others to watch.” She didn’t dare touch the subject of cameras and technology. “One day I was watching one of these movies. One of my favorites.”

She stared up at the ceiling, “And when I walked through my bedroom door, I ended up inside the movie.”

Balin cleared his throat, “Inside the story?”

“Yes,” she said, “I somehow got sucked into one of my favorite stories, in the middle of the act. And I know everything that’s going to happen because I’ve seen the story so many times. I know all the characters and their path forward and what happens to them all.”

Balin kept his voice steady, “Such as how they get captured and how they escape?”

She laughed sadly, “Exactly.”

“Seems like witchcraft to me,” Balin muttered, “Something fit for the wizard to explain.”

“It’s hard to believe, I know.”

She couldn’t possibly know that just about every dwarf in those cells were listening in on their conversation.

“So far, lassie, your knowledge has kept us safe. It’s kept us hopeful while trapped in these cells.”

“You don’t think I’m insane.”

“Perhaps a little,” Balin smiled, “But I do know there are things you say that are unexplainable.”

And the dwarves all kept to themselves until the fateful moment that Bilbo reappeared with a dramatic flourish, keys in hand. He saved the day, unlocking all the cells until he reached (Y/N)’s.

He thrust the door open, “(Y/N)! You were right. The elves are drunken on wine down below. We can sneak into the cellar and ride the barrels out of here.”

(Y/N) shared a look with Balin, oblivious to how many of the other dwarves had similar interactions.

“Lead the way,” Balin said, “We trust you.”

And their journey forward was marked with orcs and elves alike. (Y/N) made a great effort to save Kili from getting an arrow stuck in his leg. They tumbled and rolled through the rapids, bobbing in their barrels.

(Y/N), considerably less stable then the dwarves, fell into the water, her head slamming into the surrounding rocks. She hissed, inhaling a mouthful of water, burning a path down to her lungs.

A sturdy hand reached into the river and pulled her up from the depths. It was Fili, dragging her onto the slippery shoreline.

Spluttering water from her lungs, she groped Fili’s arm for support, “Is Kili okay?”

“What do you mean?” the blonde brother questioned, “Where is he?”

Kili came sliding to his knees, beside her, “I’m perfectly alright,” he said, “But I don’t believe you are.”

(Y/N) sighed in relief, ending in a fit of coughs. She went to hug the brothers, “Then I did it.” She muttered into their soaking wet linens, “I can change the future.”

“What are you going on about?” Kili wheezed, trying to yank (Y/N)’s fingers from his back.

Thorin came tromping towards them, “Precisely.” He towered over them, “Explain yourself.”

(Y/N) stared up at him, a torrent of fear washing away the relief on her face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Enough,” the king said, “We all heard you in the dungeons, girl. We know there is something mysterious about you. We know you seem to believe to come from a strange different world. That you are able to predict things with unnerving accuracy.”

She was now surrounded by fourteen dripping companions, many torn between their growing fondness of her and their superstitions.

“How did you save Kili?” Thorin growled, “As you were just so relieved about.”

(Y/N) calmed her breath, a pounding in the back of her head. “The way the story goes – Kili was meant to be impaled by one of those orcish arrows, in the leg. It would be poisoned and would slowly begin to kill him.”

Fili grabbed his brother’s shoulder, bending down to look at his legs.

“I’m fine,” Kili said quickly, spotting more family members wishing to inspect him themselves. “I would have felt an arrow sticking out of my leg.”

(Y/N) wringed her hands together, “By the time you got to Lake Town he would’ve been incapacitated. It would require healing from one of the Mirkwood elves to save him. You would leave him in the town with some of your companions while the rest of you continued towards the mountain.”

“We would do no such thing,” Dori said, “We’d never leave our brothers behind.”

“You would if he was ill enough to hinder the journey. And with your belief that the dragon is gone, you wouldn’t need your full numbers to investigate Erebor. But you will be sorely mistaken. You’ll awaken the dragon and reign death and destruction across the people of Lake Town.”

Thorin took a few menacing steps towards her, eyeing her down with a piercing blue gaze. He sought any trace of deception in her face. He called upon all the times they were together, her stories by the fire, the care she showed towards the company, the motives for every kind act.

“Your head,” he said quietly, finally backing down, “You’re bleeding.”

She gulped, moving a few fingers to the pounding of her head. They came back red with blood. “That explains the growing headache.”

Thorin chuckled. He actually chuckled. “Tend to your wounds. We’ll need to move in an hours’ time.”

She nodded, “Thank you.” Fili and Kili remained by her side, lowering her to the ground. Bofur came around kneeling beside her as Oin gave orders for herbs that could be found along the tree line.

“You alright, lass?” Bofur asked, hand on hers, “I thought perhaps your journey with us was over.”

“I will be fine,” she said, feeling Kili grasp her shoulder.

“How can you know that?” the younger brother said, “Have you ever been a part of this story before?”

(Y/N) felt a trickled of fear, “No, I’ve only ever watched it. I don’t know what becomes of me.”

“But you know what becomes of us,” Fili said quietly, “Would you be able to tell us how the story ends?”

Her eyes flew to Fili’s face, young and full of promise. To Kili’s roguish eyes and lopsided smile. To Thorin a few feet away, standing firm with orders to his company.

She tried to keep the tremble from her voice, “I could. But I don’t know if I should.”

~~~

(Y/N) was stuck in Middle Earth for the coming weeks and months. She traveled with the company of Thorin Oakenshield all the way to the Lonely Mountain. She bonded with Bard and his children, she discovered the secret door into Erebor, she helped Bilbo sneak around Smaug, and she concealed the Arkenstone when Thorin fell prey to the dragon sickness.

In the coming days leading up to the Battle of the Five Armies, she gave sound advice to Fili and Kili, begging them to remain in certain areas. She tried to tell them with her eyes rather than her words that she was trying to save their lives.

But she never got to see the actual battle.

In a strange turn of events, she fell asleep against the makeshift barrier of Erebor’s gate. Fell asleep against the gate but woke up someplace else.

Her face was stuck to a keyboard, “Oh god,” she groaned. Her neck was stiff as she peeled her cheek away from the keys, “What the hell?”

She was facing the computer in her bedroom, one side of her screen rolling the credits of the last Hobbit movie.

“Did I…?” she blinked, “Was I asleep the whole time?”

Had she really dreamed months of her life in one sitting?

~~~

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comparativelysuperlative · 5 months

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While I'm here, other ROP e1 issues:

They know exactly what they're breaking. You don't open with the paper boat scene (...a swan-shaped boat, learned from Galadriel's side of the family, immediately sunk by other Elves) if you slept through Silmarillion class.

Also the random line about Elf medicine. Sounded like someone did read LACE, and they want us to know that. So yeah, assume all problems are because they consciously don't care.

Galadriel isn't enough of a Mary Sue. Should be "#2 greatest Elf of all time, second only to Feanor the Complicated," not just "one of the king's top people." Nobody acts impressed to be meeting the Galadriel. Should already have a name for herself. (Yes, I get why Amazon wouldn't want a protagonist to start here.)

The name "Galadriel" in a Valinor flashback is technically wrong, but whoever she's telling the story to knows her as Galadriel, this is fine.

Sauron having a weird magic logo is okay I guess.

"there have only been two Elf-human relationships ever, and both ended in tragedy!" --no. There have only been two human marriages to an Elf princess, that got written down in Elf history books. Having a character say this implies a Lot of things, like apparently all other relationships are so underground that a conservative could just not know? and expect not to get contradicted?

Elves with short hair: bad.

Finrod with short hair: worst.

Politically unified Elves??? Gil-galad as king of "the Elves"???

Hobbit/harfoot portrayal seems about right tbh. Fingers crossed that they don't make any halflings globally important later; that'd have Theme problems on top of the history ones. Who am I kidding, we all know they're gonna.

Are we supposed to assume Beren and Luthien's Silmaril quest went about the same way without Finrod? Or was that how he got injured, and they recovered him alive-but-dying?

Did I see that right, ships entering Valinor disappear Into The Light? If they get there by magic instead of geography, does that mean the world is round already?

#LOTR on Prime #SIlmarillion #rings of power

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kimmberleeex · 5 months

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Chapter 2: Unavoidable

Before you know it, it’s lunch time and you apprehensively enter the lunchroom with your packed lunch. Across the room, you see Eddie at his usual table with his Hellfire Club buddies. Keeping your head down as you walk past his table, silently praying you don’t capture his attention again.

He made you so anxious, the evening that looked ahead of you was making you feel so uneasy. And it wasn’t that you were afraid of him or what he might do. It was the feeling of being alone with him and how it was making you feel that was driving you mad.

You sit down at an empty table, making sure to have your back turned to him. Picking at the sandwich your mother packed you, the same old turkey and cheese on white bread that she always made for you. Thumbing through the worn pages of your book, you get lost again while reading the Hobbit tales.

You get so lost that you don’t hear a pair of worn Reebok sneakers approaching from behind. So when a chair scrapes across the linoleum floor next to you, and down plops Eddie fucking Munson, it startles you.

He chortles as you jump, but your hand is clutching your chest. Willing your heart to get back to sinus rhythm. “Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie.”

He pats your hand gently, the simple gesture turns your cheeks a bright shade of pink and he smirks. “Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare ya. You really are a jumpy one.”

You furrow your brows, annoyed at how embarrassed you are. “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t sneak up on people.” The retort rushes out of your lips before you can stop it. This is met with another hearty chuckle from Eddie.

“Why you sitting all alone over here? I even had a seat all saved for you next to me.” He gestures back to his table and there sat an empty chair next to his spot. A spot that was normally taken by Gareth. Who was sitting in the seat beside it, his chin on his hand as he picked at his food. He was clearly pouting.

You giggle softly. “So, I’m just supposed to join your little club because you wanna teach me how to play D&D?” A playful smirk spreads across your lips.

His eyes light up with delight, he titters, looks down and then back up at you. “Only if you want to.”

You gesture to your book. “Well, I was trying to read…it’s just getting to the good part…”

It doesn’t take long before you and Eddie are sitting alone at the table discussing Elven politics of ‘The Hobbit’. Before you know it, the bell rings signifying the end of lunch. The time slipping away from the two of you.

Eddie stretches and scratches the back of his head as he stands up. His Hellfire Club shirt rides up, exposing his hips and waist. His blue checkered boxers are hanging off of his hips and a light happy trail of hair is extending from under his boxers up to his navel. Your eyes slowly climb that trail until you’re suddenly looking at his face. He catches you staring, with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. The shade of red that your face was turning would probably match the logo of his ‘Hellfire Club’ shirt.

He smirks, taking your hand and kissing it gently. “See you after the final bell, love. I can’t wait.” His chocolate brown eyes are boring into your soul. It causes your breath to catch in your throat, rendering you speechless.

He laughs softly to himself and walks away from you. Your eyes follow his every move until he’s out of view. “What is even happening..?” You mutter under your breath as you quickly gather your things and head off to your next class.

#eddie munson #eddie munson pov #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #pov #stranger things fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader

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heyclickadee · 1 year

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Tech's Alive, Part Four: Placement and Structural Purpose (okay, so this is waaaaaay more rambly and nonsensical than I thought it would be, but, here ya go)

So, the placement of Tech's fall in “Plan 99”is...weird. It happens around 6:30 into the episode, and given that the logos and title card take about forty seconds to get through, that means it happens less than six minutes into the action. And it would be one thing if the rest of the episode was dedicated to the other characters processing their grief or dealing with the aftermath, sort of like if Kanan had died in the first few minutes of "Dume" instead of the last few of "Jedi Knight" and then the rest of "Dume" proceeded exactly the same, but that's so completely not what happens.

Do we get small moments of everyone grieving? Sure, we get those shots of Wrecker looking broken(1) and wiping away tears, Hunter's face when he tells Omega the news and again when he picks up the goggles, Omega's disbelief, and Echo sitting by himself in the marauder looking at that empty pilot's seat(2), but these are all just snapshots. The episode acknowledges their grief, but doesn't allow them to process it, because "Plan 99" is packed and they don't have time. Not thirty seconds after Tech falls, the train crashes, Omega almost dies, the gang goes back to Ord Mantell, Omega's thankfully okay, Hunter and Wrecker , Cid rats them out, Hemlock shows up, Omega gets captured, the marauder's practically empty now and Hunter's out for blood, Omega's reuinited with Crosshair, who's still unconscious on a slab, Emerie's Omega's "sister," cats and dogs are living together, mass hysteria—

It's. A lot.

And that's, again, weird. That's not typically how main (or main secondary, I sort of consider the bad batchers all mains) character deaths in genre fiction work.

See, typically, unless the whole story is about the mystery of why a character may have died, a main character deaths happen towards the end of an episode or chapter, and they usually function as either a conclusion or emotional climax to whatever story they're in. Take, for example, Fives's death. Fives dies at the conclusion of a multi-episode narrative arc, and his death functions as both the conclusion and emotional climax of that arc. Or Thorin’s death towards the end of The Hobbit. Or Richardson's implied imminent death at the end of "Underbridge." Main character deaths are exclamation points, or full stops at the very least, before things continue.

Tech's “death” doesn't work like that.

Despite following up on some ealier foreshadowing leading up to the team having to adapt to things without Tech, and despite following up on the repeated thread of Tech loving his family so much he'll sacrifice himself for them at the drop of a hat(3), Tech's “death” concludes nothing. Not in the episode, and certainly not in the overarching story. Far from being a natural ending to either his own character arc or a larger narrative thread, Tech falling figuratively and literally throws everything off the rails. The whole thing the narrative was driving towards—the reunion of the clone force 99 family and these clones being able to choose a purpose besides the “fighting and dying and being lab experiments” they were manufactured with—breaks down. It happens early and then the episode keeps driving and just doesn't stop.

In fact, not only is Tech's fall NOT the only dramatic thing to happen in the episode, it's not even the emotional climax of the episode. Omega getting taken by Hemlock is. Even the soundtrack suggests this. The theme which plays during Tech's sacrifice is the same theme that plays when Omega is taken, and that theme has even more tension and drama in it when played that second time. Her getting taken, and that moment of Hunter running out to the edge of the platform only to have to helplessly watch as Hemlock's ship looms out of reach and take his daughter away—that's the emotional climax(4).

Furthermore, Tech's "death" isn't a rallying cry for the team to rally and get revenge like main character deaths in genre fiction typically are. Instead, it's one loss too many. It's the thing that makes Hunter and Wrecker want to take Omega back to Pabu and just never leave again, because they can't take risking anything else like losing Tech. It's the thing that makes them want to throw in the towel for good.

So, if Tech, who's one of the six main characters of this series and was more or less the lead along with Omega this season, had a death scene, and his death scene doesn't serve as a conclusion to either his or any other arc, if it isn't the emotional climax of the episode, and if it isn't a rallying cry the team can get behind, then what purpose does it serve in the structure of the episode? To be completely honest, the closest thing that I could come up with is that it's either the catalyst or the inciting incident, because Tech falling is the thing that makes everything else in the episode happen.

At the start of the episode, the train car is stalled and without power. Tech restores power to the car, but it’s being pulled away from the track and still can’t move. Tech cutting the connection and allowing himself to fall is what allows the train to start moving again—but it's moving too fast. It derails and crashes through the barrier on the other side. And the train crashing is how Omega gets hurt, Omega getting hurt is what necessitates them having to go back to Ord Mantell, going back to Ord Mantell is what allows Cid to rat them out, Cid ratting them out is what gets Hemlock to show up and take Wrecker and Hunter prisoner, Wrecker and Hunter being taken prisoner (and Omega being griefstricken about losing Tech) is what causes Omega to disobey orders and go back for Wrecker and Hunter instead of leaving with Echo, which is what leads to Omega getting captured, which leaves Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo doubly bereft by the end of the episode. What I'm saying is, the train is an intentional stand-in for the narrative here, and Tech falling is what allows it to move forward, but in such a way that everything it was building towards is completely broken derailed.

And, again, this is weird, especially if this is supposed to be a genuine character death, because it’s not about the death—it’s about what Tech letting himself fall puts into motion. And so little of the focus of the episode is on the “death” itself, because there's so little time in the episode, and what little there is is less on Tech dying (because sure as hell don’t see it happen) and more on the other characters grieving or being manipulated by it in the very little time that they're allowed because, again, things are moving too fast and they're not allowed to really stop and process anything.

Now, there is actually a main character death in The Clone Wars that works pretty much the same way, and which is actually similarly placed towards the beginning of an episode, and that's the "death" of Obi Wan Kenobi in "Deception." Granted, we know that Obi Wan's fine, because it's Obi Wan and he has to show up in A New Hope or at least Revenge of the Sith (though it's possible some of the kids who had never seen either movie didn't know that), and even if we didn't know that, we find out it's a fake out almost right away because we continue following Obi Wan's perspective in a way we don't continue to follow Tech's. Tech falls into the mist and then we're back with Omega and the rest on the train and hurtling towards a broken future. But Obi Wan's fake death does function in a similar sort of "get things moving/flips the domino to get other things happening" sort of way.

Now all this, despite the closest structural parallel I could find in star wars being a fake-out death, isn't proof that Tech falling is a fake out. But it is worth noting that the supposed "death" here isn't placed like a normal main character death and doesn't serve anything close to the same purpose a main character death typically does. And that is probably why, as @cross-my-heartt pointed out in this excellent post, it doesn't really read as a character death to anyone who isn't either heavily invested in the story or the character (hello there) or who isn't an edgelordy dudebro who thinks it has to stick so that there are "stakes" (get off my lawn). And while I don't think The Bad Batch is a perfectly written show, I do think that it is very well written overall, and written thoughtfully and deliberately, at the least. What's happening here is very much on purpose. It’s just a question of what that purpose is.

(1) Jennifer, ma’am, I don't know what I have to do to make sure I never have to see Wrecker's face crumpled in despair like that ever again, but I'll do it. Let him be happy.

(2) *sobbing*

(3) I have so much to say about the foreshadowing and how it points to Tech’s absence and selflessness but absolutely not to his death I am gnawing on the foreshadowing here

(4) And this might have to be one point where I have to admit that the writers did err, just a little. Not necessarily in the writing, pacing, or in the placement of Tech's fall, because if this really is a fakeout, then all of that was brilliantly done. The episode doesn’t feel rushed to me the second time around, because I know what happens and I can breath. Less so the third. But I think they may have slightly underestimated just how attached some of us are to this particular character. I mean...okay, I get the impression that the people working on this show love every one of these characters as much as we do. I really do. Are they going to put these characters through hell? Well, yeah, because otherwise we wouldn't have a story, but I get the genuine impression that they really love these characters. But working with characters in a story is about three-quarters knowing and loving (or hating) the characters and having them bounce around and do their thing as though they are real people who live somewhere outside of your head, and one-quarter having to maintain enough of a level head about them that you can use them as tools to tell your story. And that last quarter can add a little bit of...not emotional distance, but something like emotional distance, especially if you, the writer, know that the character is going to be okay in the end no matter what it is you're putting them through in the moment. You, as a storyteller, have an assurance that your audience doesn't. Because when I saw Tech fall the first time, my whole heart shut off and I couldn’t access my emotions for about three days. It wasn’t until I watched it the second time that I realized that it wasn’t the emotional climax of the episode.

#the bad batch #tech bad batch #sorry here is more #writing these till season three happens #or until we see Tech in a sizzle reel on Monday #either way have fun with this #tech’s alive

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