#legolas was probably bottom

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 11b

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

As rattling as this development is, there isn't much they can do with it until the Geese condescend to approach them.

So: Wizard's Clay demonstration.

Celegorm has dug an impressively deep hole considering the limited time involved and his lack of proper tools.

Celeborn bites his tongue on a 'at the bottom of a hole, keeps digging' joke, only for Turgon to make the exact same joke. Celegorm throws a rock at him.

Gimli and Dyn direct the others in placing the Wizard's Clay carefully in the hole and laying fuses back up out of it. Legolas directs the others in stopping up their ears.

…The elves can get by with ósanwë, but they'll probably want to come up with some hand signals.

The ensuing explosion is loud and moderately impressive, but would be more impressive in rock.

Estimated sticks of Wizard's Clay left behind to threaten the peace of Middle-earth (counting the 25 left in Emyn Arnen): 5574

They repeat a few times, so everyone can get a chance handling the fuses, and Dyn demonstrates joining fuses for multiple emplacements.

"Although these are so close they'd set each other off anyway."

Estimated sticks of Wizard's Clay left behind to threaten the peace of Middle-earth (counting the 25 left in Emyn Arnen): 5560

Elrohir asks about the possibility of lighting a fuse from farther away with fire-arrows? Okay, good idea; more Wizard's Clay, more fuses — shorter this time, though they back up even farther.

The first attempt severs the fuse rather than lighting it. The second one lights the fuse, but also a small grassfire. (Fortunately the grass is green and the fire easily extinguished, even though they have to wait until after the explosion to rush forward and deal with it.) The experiment is tentatively declared a success.

Estimated sticks of Wizard's Clay left behind to threaten the peace of Middle-earth (counting the 25 left in Emyn Arnen): 5552

Gimli hopes they come across some exposed rock so he can run everyone through boring holes to place the explosives.

Risyind asks how concerned they should be about the warden coming out and attacking them as soon as they start boring holes in its house.

No one is sure. However, Glorfindel is of the opinion that if there's an umaia in there and it didn't make an appearance at any point in the Second or Third Ages when Sauron needed backup, there's probably a reason for that — maybe it can't leave without breaking something.

"Or it just didn't like Sauron," Elladan suggests.

Celeborn is of the opinion that per their palantír viewing the physical outside of the the Crucible has been weathered, so it can be weathered, so crude physical impacts short of explosives should hopefully pass as more weathering. At least assuming there aren't any windows.

The orcs agree there are definitely no windows.

****

The Geese continue to hang back.

"Do you think they're planning to fight as swans?" Elrohir asks, as they try to catch a glimpse of their great-uncles.

"…Maybe?"

Neither of them has been attacked by a swan — as with geese, it's about respecting them — but they have witnessed a few unfortunate incidents among the Dúnedain.

A large swan could probably inflict some moderate-to-serious bludgeoning damage? Which doesn't sound like the right thing to fight an umaia, but then, they've never heard anything about umaia in general being immune to blunt force, they're just… presumably durable.

"I mean, it's likely any battle with an umaia wouldn't be entirely physical, anyway…"

"Would they know how to do that instinctively?"

(Elladan and Elrohir definitely don't.)

*****

After being quieter than usual for most of a morning, Maglor guides his horse to walk beside the wagon Turgon is driving and says, grimly, "I need you to tell me more details."

"Meaning…?"

"If I'm supposed to sing to free orcs or fight an orc-warden, I need more to build on than what I know now. Tell me about Bellow, tell me about Squint — tell me about Goblin-town."

Turgon can see how that would make sense. "I can, but — when you say details—"

"None of the editing I'm sure you're doing for Glorfindel," Maglor says. "All the awful things you want to leave out to spare me."

"Maglor—"

"If I can't handle it from you, I won't be able to handle it from Celegorm, and I need to do that, so I will handle it."

Honestly Turgon would just as soon leave some things out to spare himself, but when Maglor puts it that way… "Fine. But we have to make sure Glorfindel and the kids don't hear it."

(By "kids" he means everyone born in the Third Age. Maglor considers pointing out that Elladan, Elrohir, Khitwê, and Risyind are all older than Turgon was when he died in Gondolin. Then he feels sick at the thought that Turgon and Celegorm and Curufin have all spent so much longer trapped as orcs than they got to live—)

The discussion takes up the entire rest of the day and into the night, and leaves them both rattled.

Everyone else courteously does not listen, but there is a lot of intense staring.

The next day Maglor talks to Sharlinnu.

*****

(An incomplete list of things Turgon has been editing out when speaking to Glorfindel:

Squint's suicides when he remembers the truth.

Bellow's suicides-by-orcs-or-whatever's-handy.

The cannibalism. Bellow discouraged it in Goblin-town and it was rarely anyone's first choice, but it was unavoidable in the armies — and orclings get fed dead orclings before they're old enough to make their own choices.

(The opinion that as long as you're scavenging a battlefield and they're all already dead anyway, Men are more nutritious than orcs, so.)

Knowing your body is not your own. Starting out in a shape like an elven child and growing those bone spurs and permanent bruises and painful scars.

Knowing your mind is not your own. The burn of the Shadow's influence in your mind, subtle until it isn't, calling you to serve, calling you to kill, calling you to hate, seeking to consume every other thought or feeling…

The ugly mockery of desire that summons orcs to multiplication duties. There's no pleasure. It's just an unpleasant itch. The horror of facing it with your memory intact — and how the horror fades away, because at least it doesn't make you feel anything.

That he's almost as sad about the fall of Goblin-town as he is for the fall of Gondolin. Possibly more so at this point, actually, because even if Gondolin hadn't fallen to Morgoth it would have fallen literally with the rest of Beleriand, and there have been and are many other perfectly acceptable large elven communities. Goblin-town was one-of-a-kind.

Just not caring anymore, sometimes.

Talking to Celegorm is going to be a challenge.)

#a tolkien tag #orc bank #orc bank unforsaken

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Hello, my fellow lotr (and GandalfxLegolas) Fans!

as you can see here, i have created a fanart of Gandalf/Olorin catching Legolas when he falls out of a tree (much to Legolas's shock)

top left is me attempting to be artful and having gandalf/olorin's forms fused together.

top right is Gandalf catching Legolas

and bottom is Olorin catching legolas

are they they book accurate? probably not.

but i have brain rot, don't @ me.

so yeah, hope you enjoy.

PS: Legolas can't see Olorin's form (but we can)

#gandalf x legolas #legolas x gandalf #gandalf #olorin #legolas #they silently agreed to never bring it up again #silvantransthranduiltrash fanart #rarepair #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr elves #the hobbit #tolkien fanart #lotr fanart

[absynthe--minded]

so you’re talking about the Odyssey and you’re talking about David Benioff… thoughts on Troy 2004?

oh boy.

first off, for anyone who doesn’t know, David “Game of Thrones” Benioff wrote Troy, so if you want to know why Achilles is straight, Helen is unreasonably horny, there are no gods, Cassandra isn’t here, Andromache exists to cry and feel sad, everyone talks like they were ripped from Fanfiction.net Lord of the Rings self-inserts circa 2002, and the political machinations mean a lot and nothing at all simultaneously, that’s why

if you want an adaptation of the Iliad that’s good and worth the time, I recommend Troy: Fall of a City on Netflix, because every single character gets to be both compellingly sympathetic and terrible at least once and the gods are here, and Achilles and Patroclus fuck on the beach

if you want an adaptation that centers Helen’s status as a victim and includes details like Theseus kidnapping her and Clytemnestra being her sister, Helen of Troy (2003) is probably your best bet, but this leans so hard into “men are creepy and terrible” that it becomes genuinely hard to watch even though there’s not a lot of explicit sexual violence

honestly watch one of the Italian peplum sword and sandal films before you watch this trashfire, but if we must discuss it, then my thoughts continue

the small details of Bronze Age life pop out and don’t deserve to be as good as they are. they don’t feel quite as impressive now that Troy FoaC did a lot of the same things, but I will say that pouring libations and taking care to observe the religious rites as religious rites is really interesting

that’s the only good thing I’ve got to say about this movie. the rest is ridiculous. why is Hector so pure and noble in a clear-cut “ripped off from Aragorn” way? why are the Greeks evil? why is Achilles so aggro before the mess with Briseis goes down? I know why Paris is basically Legolas but that doesn’t make me happy to see him here, and Sean Bean as Odysseus isn’t enough to save this sinking ship

Peter O’Toole deserved a better-written Priam and it’s disappointing that he’s trying so hard with such sad, pathetic material

Menelaus is presented as a really awful man but doesn’t do anything onscreen really to justify that; if he’s going to be a terrible and abusive husband I need him to behave materially differently than others in the Bronze Age or even in the film itself. he can’t be Informed Abusive he has to be all the way abusive, before she leaves and he goes apeshit.

how is it that a movie so committed to “Achilles is a heterosexual paragon of masculinity for women” still manages to take sides in the Patroclus top/bottom debate

this film deepthroats Trojan sandal so hard you’d think Virgil wrote it on commission

in conclusion watch Literally Anything Else, Including That Movie Where Hercules Goes To Poland And Fights Genghis Khan, before Troy.

#replies #absynthe’s salt #classics brainrot hours #that’s the tag for the moment guys

[btwimkindagay]

About me

Thanks @littledreamling for the tag

Nickname: Usually Breezy! My first name is a place name, so some of my friends call me by other place names (but more commonly acquaintances who think they are funnier than they are 🙄)

Sign: Sagittarius sun, Taurus moon, Aquarius rising. I hope that doesn't give away all my secrets

Height: 5'7 or 170cm!

Last thing I googled: "Wilfred Owen Letter to Wife poem". It's actually called "The Letter"

Song stuck in my head: I don't have one at the moment which I'm grateful for because I have a headache which feels like someone is trying to lobotomise me through my left eye. (I've taken some painkillers so I'm just being dramatic until they kick in)

Followers: 138! Thanks to everyone for politely waiting out the Goncharov phase

Amount of sleep: I regularly get 9-10 hours of sleep because otherwise I feel so bad 😥 I am envious of people who need less because for me 8 hours and 4 hours feel the same 🤢

Dream job: probably also a professor, like Crow! I'd love to be able to do research on things I'm interested in (it's always gay nuns, but recently it's also polygyny within medieval Jewish communities), and chat with colleagues about theirs, and write articles, and make lots of powerpoint presentations (I love them because I can even script in my jokes), and see what the younger generation are interested in when it comes to history! However, as we have established I am a very tired person, so I'm not sure how well I would cope with the expectation of out of hours work.

Wearing: Blue silk pyjama bottoms decorated with little white vines and flowers, brown walking socks, and a long fluffy hooded! dressing gown which I would probably call maroon or burgundy. Don't judge me for this (or do, I deserve it).  For the more wattpad experience we can also say that I have thrown my long brown hair into a messy bun.

Books/movies that summarise me: I could ask my friends, or I could just insert a picture of the DSM-V here because that's what they'll all send me

Favourite song: I don't have favourite anythings to be honest, but my most played song this year (at a whopping 22 times) was Zitti e Buoni by Måneskin. Lyric-wise I'm still obsessed with Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives, specifically "I know that you mean so well, but I am not a vessel for your good intent".

Favourite instrument: I've played clarinet, recorder, guitar, and keyboard, none of which I had any talent for 😂

Aesthetic: I've been told so many things about how I dress so I'll try to keep it brief. I own an eclectic collection of dresses (probably 60+) and tend to favour colourful patterns for daily wear and single colour grecian-style drapes for formal events. I likewise own lot of colourful patterned tops (described by my friends as "pretty", "flattering", "interesting", and "like you took it from your mum's wardrobe" (she gave it to me)) which I wear with jeans. That said, I can most commonly be found in my "grandad" looks of a men's shirt open over a vest or buttoned to the bare minimum of decency, or one of my two favourite golf jumpers (one grey, one beige).

Favourite authors: I don't have favourite authors of books (though I definitely do for fanfiction), but I do want to read more Margaret Atwood because I've only read The Handmaid's Tale and that one quote from The Robber Bride that lives rent free in my head.

Random fun fact: I managed to get super glue in my mouth when I was decorating a christmas bauble with watch parts last night! Very on brand, I'm notoriously clumsy. I also only managed to super glue two of my fingers together, so that is a new record

Tagging @bidet-and-legolas @a-liittle-bit-of-both and anyone who fancies it!

#about me #tag game

[luna-redamancy]

Hi, I am so excited and happy that your requests are open. Can I ask for a Legolas x hobbit reader. Where the reader is Frodo Baggins twin sister. Legolas and reader both are in love with each other. The onlything is that they don't know how to confess to each other so they dance around the fact they both are in love with each other. The group is annoyed that neither one of them won't confess their feelings so they try to get them together but it doesn't work. Every time somthing bad happens. You can write the rest however you like just a happy ending at the end, please.☺😊😄😃

Hi Nonnie! Forgive me if this fic isn't the best, I still feel like I've been hit by a bus but hey! I can sit up now with relatively small effort! I do hope you enjoy it:

“Be careful next time, alright?” Legolas’ voice was soft as he gave you a once-over. His eyes drifted from the crown of your head to the bottom of your feet, scanning meticulously for any injury that needed attending. 

“I’ll try,” A cheeky response is what your words would have been if you weren’t constantly in danger on this journey from wargs to orcs to bandits, even ringwraiths. You truly could not help if you got banged up from time to time. 

“I know you will,” His eyes found themselves back to yours, seemingly entranced by you, his expression going from one of worry to something more gentle.

“May I tell you-” Legolas began to ask only to be interrupted by Boromir crashing through the camp, Merry on his right leg with Pippin on his left. 

“Get his arms, Pip!” Merry yelled, and the two launched themselves from his legs to his arms, dragging the son of men down to the ground with triumphant yells. 

“Dinner is ready!” Sam called out as a cue for everyone to make their way over. 

“I guess we should go, then,” Legolas smiled at you, question forgotten as the two of you approached the group again. Little did you know, the group was tired of waiting for Legolas to stop dancing around the subject and began to take action. 

That was the first time of many that Legolas attempted to tell you his feelings. The second time was at a pub that the Fellowship found themselves at to escape the rain, where his attempt quickly was flushed out when a drunken Merry spilled ale down the back of your tunic, your expression morphing quickly to one of horror and then to rage as you stood. 

As you left, you failed to hear Merry call out to Pippin; “It didn’t work!” Their plan to get you into Legolas’ room for some private time failed as you stormed off to your own. 

The final attempt was after Helm’s deep, the situation being oddly similar to the very first attempt with Legolas ensuring your safety, however, this time, Gimli has had enough. 

Legolas was mindful of your bruises as he wrapped your injuries where luckily blades only scraped at your skin rather than successfully stabbing you, eyes swimming with worry as he scooped salve onto your bruises after he was finished. 

“I’ll be alright, Legolas, no need to worry too much,” You grinned, “I think Aragorn may need some more medical attention, I swear I heard his shoulder pop out of place,” You grimaced as you recalled the sickening ‘pop’ noise that rang through your ears as he shielded you from an orc ax. 

“I think Legolas is too preoccupied,” Gimli chuckled, making you raise your brow. “What do you mean?” You inquired, not catching how Legolas’ face hardened into a death glare at the dwarf. 

“Oh y’know, just the fact that he is too wrapped up in his own feelings for you that he’s blinded to anything else, he probably wouldn’t even realize it if his own arm was chopped off.” 

Legolas moved to interrupt him but you placed a hand on his shoulder, shifting to fully look at Gimli. 

“Gimli, are you saying-”

“The elf is in love with you, little one.” 

“Gimli.” Legolas’ voice was harsh as he stood, towering over the two of you- an intimidating sight to behold, but Gimli only chuckled and waved him off. 

“Good luck,” He whistled as he left, ax flung over his shoulder as he went to go sharpen his weapons. 

Legolas turned to watch him leave, his back stiffened and shoulders squared. 

“Is he right?” Your voice broke him from his murderous thoughts, Legolas turned to look at you once more. 

“Do you love me, Legolas?” 

Legolas couldn’t deny you, no, not when you looked at him like that. Eyes so full of hope and love. 

“I do, with all my heart.”

The grin that broke out on your face made the irritation from Gimli worth it, in Legolas’ opinion, heart thumping wildly in his chest as you beckoned him to crouch so you could hug him properly. 

“Finally,” Aragorn whispered with a grin, his lit pipe resting on his lip as he watched the two of you hug. 

Tags:

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The Elves-

@eunoiaastralwings

Legolas- @skylarkvip @iloveyou3000morgan @katiegoddessofmischief @queenofmankind @dark-angel-is-back @elvish-sky @iwenttomordor

#legolas x reader #legolas x fem! reader #legolas #the lord of the rings imagines #the lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr fanfic #reader-insert #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #xreader #jrr tolkien #lotr

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Continue - Part 6

Summary: You have been ripped away from your world and tossed into one that is supposed to be pure fiction. You know the stories, how they are supposed to go. Despite your knowledge, you are unable to change the fates of the Fellowship you had grown so close to.

Pairing: Legolas x Modern!Reader

Word Count: 665

Warnings/Disclaimers: Just an over abundance of fluff.

A/N: Finally getting back to writing for this series. This chapter is short. It just didn’t feel right to drag it out. The next chapters will probably be longer. Hope everyone enjoys regardless!

Masterlist

Rivendell’s calming, refreshing air had wafted through you long before your company had reached any sign of civilization. Now, it felt one with your soul as you sat on a bridge in one of Elrond’s numerous gardens, your toes dipped in the delicate stream below. It was was the only place, aside from Galadhon, you felt completely comfortable with running around barefoot outdoors. The cool water left goosebumps in its effort weave past your feet and continue its journey. Leaning forward to watch, your gaze fell upon your reflection framed in starlight.

So much had happened since you landed in Middle Earth, both physically and mentally. All this time roaming the continent had resulted in your locks lengthening long past what you normally preferred, body and stamina strengthening, and skin glowing healthier than it ever had in your world. An unfamiliar poise tranquility radiated throughout you, even more so now that the Ring was destroyed and Frodo was regaining his health. 

And what now, now that the written story was nearly finished? As much as you missed your family and friends in your world, it was difficult to think of returning. Living in a realm without your hobbit friends, your grandfatherly wizard, your near-brother ranger and soon-to-be king, your stout, ornery best friend, and… your Legolas…

“What troubles you, galad nin?”

You just barely managed to stop yourself from yelping and jumping out of your skin. The timing this elf had… Not to mention how silence seemed to hug his very being even when he was merely meandering about.

With a huff and cheeky grin, you threw a look over your shoulder at Legolas. “Not knowing what the new title you bestowed on me means.”

Your stomach churned as he allowed you to hide your thoughts and settled next to you. 

“Surely, you can solve that mystery,” he chuckled.

“You think so?” You grinned as you playfully nudged his boot-clad feet. “What makes you think I was able to retain yours and Aragorn’s lessons?”

“Well,” he trailed off, lacing his hand with yours and raising it to his lips. “Gimli’s teachings seem to have taken root.”

Your face burned hot. The visage of Gimli’s hearty laugh as he cheekily taught you your first word in his mother tongue flashed before you. At least someone found it amusing to hear you swear in another language.

“You had to bring that up,” you snickered, squeezing the hand he held.

Legolas let out a symphonic chuckle before leaning in closely and gazing up at the night sky. “So, what have you deduced?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you hummed in contemplation as you followed his gaze. He had taught you quite a few words. “Meleth nin” was “my love”. The starlight above he once called “Gilgalad”. “Galad nin”…

“My light?” You hated how your voice wavered uncertainly.

His freehand traced your jawline and guided you back to him. When had he stopped stargazing?

“And do you know why I call you that?”

You shook your head minutely, not wanting to lose the warmth radiating from his palm as he cupped your cheek. The tender seriousness of his eyes held your rapt attention.

“When the Fellowship was first formed, I thought my senses cheated by some spell. I was a moth to an open flame, forever drawn to you. You had awoken something I had thought long fallen to shadow. The farther into our journey, the more you lifted the darkness.”

His thumb swept over the apple of your cheek, and his voice fell to a breeze, “No matter what is to come, I will be with you. Even if we are separate, I will find my way to you. You are light, the light I have needed for much too long. You are my light.”

Legolas ended his confession with his lips finally gracing yours, softly at first. It was though he feared frightening you. Your response was more than he could have hoped for.

Tag List: @0-cries-0 @thisbreakableheaven @beakami @beautifulwar11 @bucky-is-a-gift @mjaudrey @jelsafan0 @mxmia

#legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas #legolas imagine #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #lotr #lotr imagine #legolas fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #Rivendell #Imladris

[trainsinanime]

Notes:

This looks way too much like an ad for the game for me.

Specifically for the thing where Sony and Nissan did a contest together where they brought a top Gran Turismo player into an actual race car - it seems like they're really just doing a dramatised retelling of that thing, which is either a genius way to do a video game movie, or just self-aggrandisement. I'm leaning towards the latter.

Real life circuits include Le Mans (blue and yellow curbs) and the Red Bull Ring in Austria (the one with the big bull sculpture)

The rail yard is almost certainly hungarian. The one locomotive without numbers is definitely hungarian, the other with the numbers is an austrian class 2068 diesel switcher, probably currently assigned to Rail Cargo Hungary (RCH), the hungarian freight division of the austrian railways ÖBB.

The best way to tell is generally by the lights; the locomotive on the left has clear hungarian light assemblies. I think I should make a post about european railway light assemblies and how you can quickly tell trains based on them one of these days.

I spent all the time trying to figure out where I knew that one guy from (he was the dad in Black Widow) that I completely missed Legolas.

Based on a true story, yes. You made that competition to create that story, then you made a movie about your own competition, and when you do the next round of the competition, you can say "just like in the movies", all to sell more games and consoles.

That steer at the Red Bull Ring in Austria (yes, the race track is owned by the energy drink guys; guess who paid for that sculpture) seems like the kind of thing that should have a nickname, but I couldn't find any.

I love the cars of the bad guys. Gold Lamborghini Huracán GT3? Yeah, that's evil alright! Note that the name Lamborghini does not actually give them an advantage, GT3 has an elaborate "Balance of Performance" system that ensures all cars have the same level of speed around a track by dictating weight, power output, ride height and so on. If you're wondering whether there's ever any drama about this: Oh boy.

If I'm not completely mistaken, the one on the left is the newer EVO 2 version of the car, the one on the right is the older one (note the different front splitter line, the gold line at the bottom lip). Shouldn't be a huge difference, they're subject to the same balance of performance, but supposedly the newer one has better options for setting it up and adjusting it for a given track.

The fact that they have at least real GT3 cars, and at least shots of real LMP1 cars, implies that the behind-the-scenes of this movie may be way more interesting than the actual movie itself.

Is this the Nordschleife? I'm not a big Nordschleife guy, I've only been there twice (only to watch, I'm not taking my car on the track with all the lunatics), but between this and a few shots later in the trailer, I'm fairly certain that it is.

Not sure what that other track with the city background is. Probably something where it's really embarrassing that I don't know.

I think I can tell you the entirety of the plot of this movie right now, with all twists and turns, and I assume so can you.

Part of me goes, "oh, racing cars goo vroom! Gotta watch!"

But the other bigger part of me goes, "pay to watch a commercial for a video game promotional event!?"

#gran turismo #Youtube

[sickly-stitches]

1-50

Bc ask games are fun!!!!

who is/are your comfort character(s)? Carl Grimes, Nico di Angelo, Peso, Jake Peralta and Legolas Greenleaf.

lighter or matches? Matches.

do you leave the window open at night? Sometimes, when it had netting.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? All of them bestie. I'm one of those half-beliefs in every possible reality

what color are your eyes? Blue/grey!! Got those sweet sweet child of Athena eyes.

why did you do that? Cuz I had to :[

hair-ties or scrunchies? I use hair-ties cuz I don't have a lot of hair atm but I like scrunchies more.

how many water bottles are in your room right now? One!!

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? Cold coffee.

would you slaughter the rich? Yes, first date ideas<3

favorite extracurricular activity? Oooh probably fishing (yes this was an actual extracurricular activity at my school). Free hot chips<3

what kind of day is it? A quiet, peaceful but chaotic one.

when was the last time you ate? A couple minutes ago!! Some candy I got from work.

do you love the smell of earth after it rains? Yes, particularly how rocks smell after rain (thats how nico di angelo smells btw.)

are you a parent? (all answers qualify) I am an eldest daughter and a therapist friend and I have cats and I'm a big fan of plushies so I feel like I qualify, yeah.

can you drive? No and if you put me in the drivers seat I Will have a panic attack.

are you farsighted or nearsighted? Near-sighted and cross-eyed babyyy

what hair products do you use? I mostly use sukin & neutrogina t/gel atm. I have a hair colour masque and a deep cleanser and I also have like a two year old bottle of purple shampoo since I am Not a natural blonde.

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? Absolutely babe

do you say soda or pop? I say soft drink

something you’ve kept since childhood? I have a Will Byers bobble head figurine I got the year before I had to leave my dad's house and then so many plushies also and my special blanket :]

what type of person are you? A good one, I think

how do you feel about chilly weather? Yes I love hoodies I love layers I love sweaters ugh

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? Eating popcorn.

perfume/body spray or lotion? PERFUMEEE. MY BELOVED<333 I NEED MORE PERFUME ALL OF THE TIME.

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? Yikes they all involve gay love or murder. Uhhh lets go with meeting my bf. If we're talking about Real Events then the moment I woke up after my accident plays in my head like twice a day.

about how many hours of sleep did you get? Last night? Like ten because I didn't want to get out of bed in the morning so I simply didn't.

do you wear a mask? I fucking Lost my mask and I'm waiting to buy another.

how do you like your shower water? Really cold or really hot.

is there dishes in your room? Nope.

what type of music keeps you grounded? Music doesn't keep me grounded honestly I drift off pretty quick.

do you have a favorite towel? YES. My pink one<3

the last adventure you’ve been on? Visiting the location of my accident last week probably?

is there a song you know every word to by heart? All of them /j. But probably At The Bottom Of Everything by Bright Eyes.

what’s your timezone? AEST I think??

how many times have you changed your url? I switched mains a bunch so uhmm. Uhhh. Probably 8-9 times?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? Yeah i call them Peaches, I met them in like a daycare or playgroup thing and then we reconnected in grade 8. I dont know if we're friends anymore but we text a couple times a month ?

a soap bar that smells good? Lemongrass.

do you use lip balm? Yup<3

did you have any snacks today? Some gummies & a choc-chip hot cross bun.

how do you take your coffee? Black. I also like some mochas.

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? Pinterest, google chat and youtube.

what’s your take on spicy foods? Who knows my guy

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? My best friend's dad.

can you remember what happened yesterday? I stayed up late the day before so I was up at 1am watching a lesbian christmas movie and then I fell asleep. Woke up and got ready for work, first day in ages that I did my whole lil morning routine. Went to work & my nana drove me home. Sat at home scrolling through youtube till I went for an hour-long walk listening to 2014 music. Cried for 3 hours cuz yk how it is. Fell asleep.

favorite holiday film? Love Actually.

what was the last message you sent? "I'm here" to my boyfriend

when did you first try an alcohol beverage? Age 14-15 I think? 3L of coffee just wasn't enough to cope with that day. It was also like directly before a math exam-

can you skip rocks? Haven't tried recently-

can i tag you in random stuff? Hell yeah!!

#g. #alcohol tw #asks #ask game #crystalqueerenby

[creativeskullcreations]

Yet MORE Extra Details About the MD Strip Club AU (NSFW. Duh)

I know I said I would include backstory in this one, but I’ve decided to do that next, as I want to expand on this VERY [NON-OSHA COMPLIANT] AU a bit more first. Also I might expand on that new Vampire Brothel AU idea

  With that said, on to the extra stuff!

Ok so like, you sent me two of these and they seem identical so I'm gonna be posting this one.

— — — — —

I’ve said that Uzi, N and V are exotic dancers, but funnily enough, that actually isn’t their fulltime job. 

They actually work in the brothel in the lower levels of the Silver Strip

Uzi, N and V do the dances and “performances” (i.e having sex with each other on stage) to promote their services down in the Silver strip’s brothel

They’re also pretty popular. And the most shameless

I'll be honest, I wanted to put the Legolas saying "Sluts" gif here for a laugh, but I couldn't make it work.

They ALSO rack in some good clients

Moving on, S and J

J and S have a sexual but also very casual relationship. They respect each other’s boundaries and are very much in love

J and S met when J was in the brothel looking for some stress relief. S was open, so J went to her. They had sex, but surprisingly, J found that she wanted to talk with S afterwards. One thing leads to another, and after a few more times of…stress relief…J and S start dating

Good for them.

When they’re on their breaks, they, surprisingly, just talk about stuff. No sex, just talking. Also cuddling. Cuddling is good

S’s personality is relaxed and easy-going. But make no mistake, like Uzi, she’s down for anything when it comes to sex. She’s also soothing presence for a lot of people, and urges her clients to talk about their problems that they feel like they need to get off their chest before having sex. It’s one of the many reason J loves her

S is one of the main reasons J joined the Silver Strip. She makes her feel happy in ways she hadn’t known before and she wants to be near her

Aw.

One of the other reasons J joined was because of the good pay and free housing

Makes sense. I'd probably do the same.

J is S’s most frequent patron 

J usually just visits S either for her own stress relief, or to give S a break from a hard day and makes sure she’s…thoroughly relaxed

Oh yeah, J finally grew a pair and pleasures S sometimes.

J’s surprisingly gentle with S, considering how…busy…she can be at times

S is also the first person’s J’s pleasured in return

 J’s stress relievers go in this order: If she’s stressed, she’ll have a drink from her bar. When that isn’t enough, she goes to S. If she’s busy with someone else, she’ll find someone else. Though, if they’re close by and not with another client, she’ll go to either Uzi, V, or N

J’s a lot nicer to both N and everyone else in this AU

Probably cause she's getting laid on the regular, and not just when N can corner her and make her relax.

J just sees Uzi, V and N as friends with benefits and vice versa. They’ll either talk about they’re job, have sex, or talk about their jobs while having sex. It’s a mutual friendship with benefits, nothing more. and J likes it that way. As does Uzi N and V

J will sometimes confide in either Uzi, N, V, or all three for comfort, but more often than not she goes to S

Also, Uzi’s skimpy maid outfit now has a tight polyester choker around her neck, a bunch of tight polyester strands going up and down her body connected by the top and bottom parts (though still exposing the main chest area) and garter belts

Nice.

Speaking of outfits, J’s outfit is a more casual version of her old uniform, the outer jacket being replaced by a bartender vest. She still has her old inner suit and tie, though the sleeves are rolled up considering she can’t fit her arms through them

Cool. Glad she could keep it.

Little known fact about the Silver Strip, it’s big. Not ridiculously big, but big enough to make a person say “Wow that’s big” when they hear how big exactly it is. I don’t have an exact size but…it’s big enough to house an apartment complex so..IT’S BIG

One more thing before I wrap this up: the thing J went through wasn’t her dying and coming back. I’ll explain what it was exactly in the next one :)

Oooo, interesting.

— — — — —

Welp, that’s all I can think of for the AU at the moment! Next time, I’ll tell you how the gang ended up in the Silver Strip!

  Till then!

#submission #murder drones #non osha compliant #strip club au

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 8b

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

The precautions are either unneeded or good enough; no Wizard's Clay is stolen as they cross Rohan.

There is a mishap when fording the Entwash that leads to four crates being submerged.

No one knows how that affects the Wizard's Clay. Dyn thinks probably it just needs to dry out? And the magic in the crates should have protected it? But she's not sure.

Not like they're going to test it on the banks of the fucking Entwash.

Anyway they proceed to the Anduin, above the rapids. Elrohir and Celeborn are there, with a half-dozen light barges (and still some of the Men who brought them).

There are some logistics to work out.

They don't need six barges. They could do it with three, or even two considering not all the oxen will be on barges at once — the wagons and clay-crates could all fit on one barge — but decide it's probably best not to put all their eggs in one basket. (Even if the crates do protect the clay from water damage, no one really wants to try fetching lead-lined crates from the bottom of the Anduin.) They make it four. They can spread the clay out, and have room for extra fodder for the first leg of the trip, where one side of the river is the Brown Lands and devoid of forage.

Celeborn and Legolas already have a good amount of experience transporting cargo and even livestock by barge, though on a considerably smaller river in Legolas's case. Elrohir doesn't have nearly as much barge experience but he's done it before and has handled both tricky boating and unhappy animals before.

Gimli, however, is still not a boat enthusiast, and it's only since going to Ithilien that the Hirnedhrim have seen anything beyond crude rafts (though they at least can swim). Gimli has handled draft animals, if not ones pulling barges; the Hirnedhrim have all herded cattle, but never hitched them to anything.

So yeah, they're probably not going to be able to handle even four boats at once.

Fortunately there's still time to send help, from one direction or the other. But who to send?

The same reasons not to send Elladan stand.

Obviously not any of the orcs.

Sending Maglor would defeat the point of sending Celeborn early. —Which is kind of a shame, because Maglor does have some experience with river barges. (When asked why, he rolls his eyes and says "Caranthir".)

Glorfindel has less barge experience than Maglor, but he's not a complete novice. However—

It's not that Glorfindel is expecting treachery from Maglor and/or Celegorm and/or the orcs generally. He isn't. He trusts Turgon. He is fairly sure he has the measure of the others. He doesn't expect them to make any trouble on purpose. He's just afraid trouble will spontaneously generate in their general location anyway, and wants to be on hand just in case.

The twins and Arwen don't want to take Khitwê and Risyind away from Sharlinnu and (whenever she gets back) Whiterot now. But they can be spared, and they've both done barge-work in Pelndoru.

Khitwê and Risyind understand, and don't complain.

(…About being separated from Sharlinnu and Whiterot, that is. There is quite a lot of complaining about the late-season mountain crossing.)

(Sharlinnu points out that they do, in fact, have the same physical temperature tolerance as every other elf and therefore this shouldn't be a big deal to them. She is roundly ignored.)

*******

A few of the more energetic orcs — goblins — of Gundabad offer to join the Great Goblin's mission, despite the elves.

Bellow appreciates their initiative, but he can't bring anyone who doesn't remember their first life, and he is not recommending that everyone try to do that. Do not try to do that.

No, really, don't do that.

If they want to do something productive he suggests they try to plan out where they'll go when the dwarves inevitably get together a large enough force to take back Gundabad. Probably the Grey Mountains will be left alone a while longer? Or the Mountains of Angmar, if they don't go far afield.

(Bellow feels responsible when people look to him for leadership, all right?)

Whiterot offers to stay behind and keep an eye on things while Bellow — Turgon — returns to Imladris, and then rejoin them when they pass through the Gap of Gundabad. Turgon is a little dubious, but not enough to say anything.

#orc bank unforsaken #orc bank #a tolkien tag

[valiantlyweepingdreamer]

Hi line! You're about to hate me 😂

3, 4, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 15, 16, 18, 19, 21, 22, 25 all for JATP

I could never hate you!! But that is a lot, so let's dive right in, shall we? I don't remember which ones I already answered yesterday, but hey, maybe you'll get a different answer anyway, right?!

3. What inspires you to keep creating fanworks?

Phew! Honestly, I haven't done much in the JATP fandom for a while, and that makes me sad, but I haven't given up completely. Just haven't been bitten by that particular bug lately. Usually, though, it's just a song or a prompt that I hear/see and my brain goes, "***Whatever particular ship it makes me think of!!***"

4. What are your favorite types of fanworks to make?

I'm still not 100% sure how this question is intended to be taken. I only write fics, I can't draw or write music or poetry to save my life, and I absolutely love it when my fics either get my yelled at (that masochistic streak we discussed) or people tell me they literally laughed out loud at something I wrote.

6. What has been one of your favorite fandom experiences?

Hands down, the friends I have made. Even though I am barely active in the JATP fandom lately, I still talk to many of the friends I made there on a daily basis.

8. Who are three fanwork creators that you love seeing on your dash?

Oh, my word! I'm quick to unfollow someone if I don't like at least the majority of the stuff they post, so it's hard to narrow it down. I always love to see anything posted by molinapattersons, tillstarscollided and legolasghosty, but I'm too old to figure out how to actually @ them.

9. What's a fanwork that made you laugh?

crest barrel break made me laugh! Love some oblivious idiots. hi, welcome to shark week was also very funny, but in a totally different way. Then there's ride until i can't no more..., which is just....man. I could probably keep going with these for most of the night.

10. What's a fanwork that made you cry?

It's been a while since I read it, but Adrift on Your Silence had so many emotions, including liquid leaking from my eyes.

11. What's a fanwork that made you squeal?

There are so many, I am absolutely positive, but I'm gonna have to go with Adrift on Your Silence again. Seriously, it's so good. Go read it.

15. What three fanworks are you the proudest of making?

Ain't Nothing Funny When a Soldier Cries, which I co-wrote with Emi & Robyn. It's painful, but it turned out so much more beautifully than I ever could have imagined when I had the initial ear worm.

You Rescued Me From Reachin' for the Bottom. Again, it just turned out so much better than I ever imagined when a friend said, "Would you please write a fic about a slow dance to this song?"

Girl Crush (I Wanna Taste Her Lips) was so, so much fun to write, and it's the first fic that really got me yelled at. (So basically, you can thank the people who yelled at me about that fic for all the other pain I have written.)

16. Are there fanworks in JATP that you've revisited multiple times?

Basically anything I have bookmarked, plus a few that I just happen to run across in random searches and read even though I have already read them.

18. What fanwork of yours would you like more fans to check out?

I don't really know. Girl Crush is by far the fic with the most hits, and even that only has 1700. I'm just not a well-known writer, and that's gonna have to be okay by me.

19. What fanwork by someone else would you like more fans to check out?

Absolutely anything by relightthatspark or legolasghosty. They're both amazingly talented writers who don't get nearly enough recognition.

21. What is a recent fic you read for JATP that you enjoyed?

I have honestly been on a huge HP kick for a while now, so that JATP I have read has been read as a beta, and I think most of it isn't posted yet.

22. Tag someone who brings great vibes to the JATP fandom!

Tumblr isn't letting me tag....but you, Shelly, Emi, Legolas, Robyn, Kay, and SO. MANY. OTHERS.

25. What unique thing do you think you bring to the JATP fandom?

I dunno about "unique," but I try to help people (when they want it) with the "mom perspective." Try to help them dig into Emily's head and why she reacted the way she did, rather than playing the whole "Emily was just a horrible mom" angle. Most people don't really wanna hear that side of it, but if someone does, my inbox is open. :)

#holy shit #did i miss anything? #did i get them all? #julie and the phantoms #jatp #answered asks

[kenobihater]

You’re (Probably) Drawing Archers Wrong

Hello, my name is Len and I’ve shot archery as a hobby for as long as I can remember. I have a problem: fanart depicting archery is oftentimes Very Wrong! I feel like most of this stems from not using good reference pictures, and from a general lack of knowledge. So, I wanted to create a post for anyone interested in accurately drawing an archer! Disclaimer: this is not a comprehensive post or a tutorial on how to shoot, and is intended for artists. That said, if you’re interested in archery, you may still find value in this post, though I recommend doing your own research. I’m certain there will be errors here considering I do this as a hobby not a profession, and I welcome corrections. Finally, archery can be dangerous, and even if you don’t read any more of this post, PLEASE read the safety section.

Safety

This part is going to be a PSA, because the thought of someone reading my post, getting into archery themselves, and doing these things? It terrifies me. So, rules number one, two, and three are: never aim at another person (duh), never use a damaged bow or arrows, and never, NEVER dry fire a bow. Dry firing means drawing back and releasing the string without an arrow. This can make your bow EXPLODE. It can hurt you, and even if your bow doesn’t explode, it’s fucked it up so bad that you should never shoot that bow again. Don’t do it, and don’t draw art of people doing it. Okay, PSA done, now onto the rest of the post.

There’s a TL;DR at the bottom!

First thing’s fist: the equipment! Archery requires four things: a bow, a quiver, arrows, and protective equipment (which is usually what I see most posts lacking). The first thing you should do before you draw your archer is decide what type of bow to give them. I’m not covering crossbows because I’ve only shot one once and I also Hate Them. There are three main types of bows: longbows, recurves, and compounds.

Bows

There are two different types of bows that are commonly called a longbow: English longbows, and flatbows (yes I’m considering flatbows a type of longbow to simplify things). English longbows are very large and have a very high draw weight (which means it’s hard to pull the sting back). These were used mainly by the English in the Middle Ages. Flatbows are typically smaller and have a lower draw weight as well as a slightly different profile. These were mainly used by Native American tribes such as the Hupa, the Karuk, and the Wampanoag, as well as prehistoric Europeans and the Finnish, among others. It is often seen in historical fiction and fantasy, and the English longbow is usually depicted as Robin Hood’s preferred bow type. I believe Katniss uses a flatbow in the beginning of Hunger Games, but don’t quote me on that.

Recurves have limbs that curve outwards and are smaller than longbows. Many, many cultures have used these, including but not limited to certain West-coast Native American tribes, the Mongols, the Scythians, the Greeks, the Turks, the Koreans, and the Chinese. Recurves can be made of either wood or of a combination of wood, horn, and glue, making them either composite or non-composite. These are the bows you typically see mounted archers using, and are often used in competitions today. It’s commonly seen in fantasy, and is the bow type used by Legolas, Tauriel, Katniss Everdeen in Mockingjay, Merida, Green Arrow has a lever action, and Hawkeye uses a silly collapsible one.

Compound bows are the most commonly used bow among hunters, are almost always made of fiberglass and either carbon fiber or aluminum, are Technical Looking, and pack the biggest punch for the least amount of effort. It’s a modern invention used worldwide. I don’t know where else to put this, but almost everyone who I know that shoots a compound uses something called a trigger release (pictured below) to draw back the string because it means your release is cleaner.

So, those are the main types of bow! Google which bow would be appropriat for the era and region your character is from, or if they’re from space or an alternate dimension, pick whichever you think fits the character the best.

Quivers

There are two types of quiver: back quivers, like Legolas wears, and hip quivers, like those used in the Olympics. Which quiver you should use varies from culture to culture and time period to time period. If it’s fantasy, set in modern day, or set in the future, you can chose whichever you prefer.

Arrows

Arrows can have shafts of wood or fiberglass, can have real feathers or synthetic for fletching, and can have countless different types of heads. The main two that are in use today are called field points and broadheads, and most commercial arrow shafts allow you to freely switch them out.

The arrow on the top is a field point, used only for target practice, and the arrow on the bottom is a broadhead, used only for hunting or war. You never hunt with a field point, and never practice with a broadhead. Basically every fictional character out there is shooting to kill, so they’ll all use either a broadhead, or a culturally appropriate variation of deadly arrowhead (bodkin, scythian, flint, etc). Do your research! A Native American wouldn’t use a bodkin, and a Scythian wouldn’t use a flint arrowhead!

Protective Equipment

The one really necessary piece of protective equipment is hand protection. If your character uses a three fingered draw or a pinch draw (we’ll speak on draws later), they need either an archery tab, or an archery glove. If your character is using a thumb draw, they need a thumb ring. These three pieces of equipment keep archers from getting blisters and damaged skin.

This is a tab.

This is the type of glove that I use. All an archery glove needs to do is protect your three draw fingers, but it can be more traditionally glove-like than this one. I’ve even seen ones that are a combination leather bracer and archery glove that give big Fantasy Vibes.

This is a ring. Some historical ones can get REAL ornate and pretty.

Another piece of protective equipment that is commonly used is an arm guard or a bracer. Not everyone uses one, because if your form is good the string should not be hitting your arm, so you can get away with not giving your character one. They can vary in style from something like the more minimal one below up to a full leather bracer.

Form

Form can vary greatly and I’m not about to diss other archery disciplines especially ones I’m ignorant on, so just know that not every culture has the same form. I’m just going to cover a few cultures’ variations, and what I’ve been taught by 21st century Midwest archers. There are several aspects to form, as form is just another term for “everything pertaining to how you shoot”. I’m going to break it down into stance, posture, draw, elbow discipline, holding the bow, and anchor. These are not the only aspects of form (there’s aiming, release, and breath control), but these are the only relevant aspects to drawing archers. I will not be covering mounted archery because I’m sadly ignorant on the topic. I recommend doing your own research and looking into Mongolian mounted archery.

Stance

The thing all stances have in common is that you should put your feet a shoulder-length apart, balance your weight equally between both feet, keep your knees slightly bent, and stand facing approximately 90 degrees away from your target. There are three stances that are common that I’m aware of: squared, open, and closed.

Squared stance means keeping both feet squared up to an imaginary line. Open means that you’re facing slightly towards the target. Closed means you’re facing slightly away. I vary between square and open, and to be honest I’ve never noticed a difference. So long as you draw your character standing with a stable stance, facing away from the target, you should be good.

Posture

Your posture should be with your back straight, your hips squared, and should never have you leaning. Below is one of my favorite archery pictures, not only because I love Marilyn, but because it is a great illustration of what not to do posture wise.

See how she’s leaning back? Yeah, don’t draw your character like that, it looks foolish.

Draw

There are four different types of draw that I’m aware of, I’m educated on three, and I have experience with one (though I’m itching to learn to thumb draw). The types of draw are three fingered draw, otherwise known as Mediterranean draw, pinch draw, thumb draw aka Mongolian draw, and Japanese draw, or torikake. I know fuck all about Japanese draws, so I’m not going to speak out of my ass on topics I don’t understand (if anyone reading practices traditional Japanese archery I would love if you chimed in!). I highly recommend doing your own research on which civilization your character comes from and which draw they use, especially if it’s Japanese because I’m not covering that here.

First up is three-fingered. This is the draw I use, and it��s the most common draw in my limited experience in the Midwestern archery community. It is common in Europe and the Middle East. It requires you to use three fingers, partially wrapped around the string. You do not pinch the arrow. Most people place their index finger above the arrow and their middle and ring finger below, though I’ve seen all different variations. If your character is right handed and uses this draw, draw the arrow on the left side of the bow. Lefties do the inverse, and make sure and draw a left handed bow while you’re at it.

Next is the pinch draw. I’ve never shot with this, nor seen it used. It was common in the Americas and for a time in Ancient Greece. You’re supposed to physically pinch the arrow between your thumb and index finger. Your character would need a full archery glove if you draw them with this grip. The release is supposed to be smooth because there’s only one point of contact, rather than three. I believe you would place the arrow on the right side of the bow when using this technique, but I cannot speak with certainty as I’ve never seen it done (again, lefties would do the opposite).

Last but not least is the thumb or Mongolian draw, though it is/was also widespread in Korea, China, Russia, Persia, Turkey, and the Roman and Byzantine Empires. In this draw you wrap your thumb completely around the string and tuck it behind your other fingers. You do not grab the arrow. This draw utilizes your strongest digit, and so it may be less strenuous than other draws. This draw is commonly used with mounted archery. If your character is right handed and using this draw, put the arrow on the right side of the bow (lefties, do the inverse).

Elbows

Another aspect of your draw that is important is elbow discipline. The elbow of your character’s string hand should not point up into the air. It should point straight back, like the picture below.

Now, the other elbow is important, too. Don’t draw them with a locked elbow, instead keep it slightly bent and rotated inwards, like the picture below.

Holding the Bow

Your character shouldn’t have a death grip on the bow. Instead, show it resting in the curve between the thumb and index finger. Here’s a wikihow article that describes the different ways to hold different types of bows that is more succinct than I could ever be. Ignore the crossbow (derogatory).

Anchor 

Everyone needs an anchor. What’s an anchor, you ask? An anchor is a fixed spot that you draw your string back to whenever you’re going to shoot. It’s necessary in order to ensure consistency, which is accuracy’s best friend. Your anchor spot can vary. I anchor at the corner of my lip. Some people anchor underneath their chin. Some anchor to their ear. I’ve even seen some people in Asian disciplines anchor behind the ear or almost above the head, which is incredibly impressive. Bottom line, unless your character’s archery discipline has them draw behind the ear or above the head, you need to have them touching their head somewhere. The only wrong anchor is a short anchor. If you can’t draw the string back far enough to touch your face, that means you’re either trying to draw back a bow with too high a poundage, or the draw length is too short for you. The picture above of the person with the compound trigger release has a good anchor point on their face. The picture of the person with the arm guard has a good anchor point under their chin.

This person, on the other hand? Their anchor is out in space, that is to say they don’t have one (also their elbow discipline, posture, and stance are atrocious). I see this in fanart ALL THE TIME. It’s a pet peeve of mine. Don’t do this, have them anchor to their head or behind it somewhere.

Carrying The Bow

The best way is to just carry it in your hand by the bow (not the string). You can give your character a bow sling, or a back mount like Legolas has as well. You can slip the string over your shoulder and wear it across your back in a pinch, though this may damage the string. The only really wrong way to carry a bow is by the string, though you can damage your bow carrying it on your back if you’re stupid, and I’ve never tried to do so with a compound. Too pokey.

TL;DR

If you’re drawing a fantasy character, go buck wild. Still make sure to give them the right type of arrowhead, hand protection of some sort, a strong stance (no kneeling or sitting), good posture, a sensible draw, elbow discipline, an anchor point (don’t be like the person above!), and a good way to carry their bow, but you can have fun with the rest. If you’re drawing a character from history, research the archery discipline they would most likely use, and draw them with the appropriate bow type, quiver, arrows, protective equipment, stance, posture, draw, elbow discipline, anchor, and bow carry.

#archery #legolas #legolas greenleaf #lotr #tauriel #katniss everdeen #merida #green arrow #hawkeye #clint barton #robin hood #archer #bows #art reference #len speaks #holy FUCK it's complete! #i spent like five hours researching for this post jfc i'm beat #me: *sees one terrible piece of legolas fanart* #me: *cracks knuckles* tiME TO INFODUMP #anyways in conclusion fuck cr*ssbows uwu

[thran-duils]

Seduce & Destroy (P.3)

Title: Seduce & Destroy (Part Three) Summary: A mother is desperate to save her daughter from being married off to the Master of the Town or worse, sold to the brothel for her father to be able to afford drink and rent when he is failing at bringing in money for the household. The mother finds a witch deep in the ancient woods willing to take a sharp cost to bestow safety on the daughter. If it truly ends up as safety… that is yet to be seen. Pairing: Dark!Thranduil x Fem!Human Reader Words: 2,873 Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, magical manipulation, mental abuse

Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Sitting on a bench, you watched the many weaving paths both above, across, and below you. You had been watching the elves moving around from the early morning. You had dressed yourself and left the chamber before the servants had arrived. The fact you had been on your own in that regard made you consider rising early like that to be able to have quiet mornings to yourself. Although, you wondered how long that would last when the King caught word you were rising on your own.

Speaking of word… it must have spread quickly about there being a human among them because they had barely spared you a glance as they passed below or across from you on another path – probably trying to not be rude. They were far more polite than any human you had encountered but their haughty demeanor left something to be desired.

“You were up earlier than I was,” Thranduil commented from beside you down the path, startling you.

You stood from the bench quickly, brushing your skirt out quick before your hands clasped in front of you to receive him proper.

“Good morning, your grace. I… yes, I was. I… it was hard to sleep. In a new place.” You added the last part quickly, hoping to not come off as the bed was uncomfortable. Because it was the most comfortable thing you had ever slept on, but it was not home. You were all alone.

“You need not jump so at the sound of my voice,” Thranduil stated, coming closer. He was dressed in silver robes, ones you noticed were quite close to the gown you were in. You had a hunch that had been done on purpose. “You know I don’t mean harm.”

That was not true, you did not know that. But you also did not argue.

“Plus, I expect grace. As I’ve said… etiquette. Can you try to not be too shy and gauche after some time here? There is a lot for you to learn, naturally. But I see a lot of potential in you.” You shuddered as he reached out, his fingers lightly tracing your cheek. He tsked, cupping your chin. “And that potential will be to not flinch, shudder, or stumble... eventually.” He dipped closer, fixing you with a stern gaze. “Right?”

“Right, your grace,” you answered with more conviction than you felt, averting your gaze after a few seconds.

His thumb traced your jaw and you tried to stay still; better to start now at his command to not flinch beneath his touch.

“Eventually you will sleep in my chambers. And perhaps you will find it more restful there.”

You took notice of the soldiers standing back away from the pair of you – the King always had some with him. He was unabashed to discuss this matter in front of them clearly – not that that should be a surprise considering dinner last night. But, then you had hoped it had just been the wine talking. He was not drinking now and still he was blunt about his desire.

You licked your bottom lip before asking quietly, “What do you want with me?”

“Companionship.”

“Your son doesn’t approve.”

“Legolas is temperamental.”

You could not fathom that adjective being applied to any elf. At least not seriously.

“He will outgrow his disdain. Time changes things,” Thranduil responded, his hand falling from your chin to tower once more. “Come. You have a Kingdom to learn.” He held out his arm and you took it gently. His hand coming to rest over the top of yours was strong, holding you firmly.

<><><>

The first week you spent in Mirkwood was quick… he had meant it when he had a large kingdom. Your favorite so far had been the stables that he had taken you to this morning. You had never seen such beautiful horses and when you had turned, you found him watching you, almost as if transfixed. When he told you he had not seen you smile so before, that it was beautiful, you had blushed, turning quickly. His hands had gripped at your arms, before his fingers trailed down, reaching your own hands. He was close, but not body not touching. Still, his mere presence was a weight and your breath had stopped until he had pulled away.

Sucking the air back into your lungs had been sweet and he moved on like nothing had happened. There had been something though… the air had grown thick and you had almost believed he was going to undress you right there. You were relieved when he walked away but still, you followed him obediently without direction, only acting on the fact you knew he expected you to. To survive, you were picking up on his silent orders quickly.

When he sent you away due to a council meeting he was required to attend, you had been all too happy to have time alone without worrying about keeping your back straight and your voice even for even a little while.

You sat on the edge of a rock, feet hanging. You had never been afraid of heights and being in the kingdom here did not change a thing even though sometimes you were looking over caverns.

The moment was broken when you felt Thranduil was behind you, and you could feel his presence falling around you… as if it was reaching out and enfolding around you completely even though he was only a few feet back.

“I wish you would not put yourself in such perilous positions. It’s worrisome,” he drawled.

Your hands gripped the rock and you stood quickly, your elven gown falling to your feet effortlessly. You saw him take a step towards you, concern in his eyes at your sudden movement, his gaze flashing to your feet where you realized he worried for the edge that you were standing so close to. You stepped closer to him, away from the possibility of tumbling.

The fleeting concern you had witnessed vanished now. “What have you thought so far? Of the kingdom” he asked, his tone laced with an edge of eagerness. As if he wanted approval. That was odd.

You chose your words carefully before you began to speak; taking a moment to think you had seen was not seen as uncertainty here in the elven world. No, they valued when people meant their words, no matter how long it took you to speak.

“It’s vast, your grace. Beautiful. I like that it seems built from the earth. It’s… natural and has its own strong hearth.” You saw a twitch and added quickly, “It’s different from where I lived. And that is… refreshing, as well.”

Thranduil was close now, eyebrows raised slightly. “You compliment well.”

“I mean what I say.”

“I can tell. Even though it is like pulling a tough weed from the ground to get you to speak in the first place. I admire the reluctance you have to speak rashly but it is also a habit I would like you to try to break with me.”

“I don’t wish to offend.”

“Are your thoughts offensive to me then?”

“No,” you said quickly.

“Then what do you have to fear?”

He had caught you in your own words once again – something he was skilled at. You could not just dance around him like men back home. He wanted to hear what you really thought, and he could see through when you were withholding or trying to skirt a discussion.

“You… I need to be educated on proper speaking and manners. As you yourself said. With the inadequate way I was educated, I fear it will be far too easy to find myself insulting people without meaning to.”

Thranduil only betrayed his amusement for a moment. “Did that offend you so that you latched onto that out of everything I’ve said to you?”

You said nothing, looking away.

“Body language speaks far louder than your words,” Thranduil spoke quietly yet with firmness, and you turned your gaze back to him. “You’re unpolished, yes. But I am confident I can bend and mold you with the right amount of push and time.” The way he said that made your chest clench… especially seeing the desire swimming in his eyes. “You’ll fare sweetly, Y/N. You have nothing to fear under my direction if you follow what I say. You’re an impressionable woman… and that will bode well.”

He spoke freely of conquer you to make you into his vision.

For the first time, the King’s lips graced your skin if only at the back of your hand and you stood there stunned, staring at him stupidly.

“Don’t disappoint me,” Thranduil warned in a quiet voice.

You swallowed sharply and matched his tone, “I won’t, my king.”

The yearning was clear on Thranduil’s face hearing you claim him as your King. You stared back at him, afraid to take your eyes off of him as his own gaze trailed down your face to your lips. He had you here again in the same day, feeling as if you were going to find yourself on your back, him having command of your bare body.

“Your majesty…” an uncertain voice came from behind Thranduil in the direction of where his soldiers were standing.

Thranduil looked piqued as he pulled away from you to stand straight and face who was speaking.

“Yes?” he demanded.

“The council is going to reconvene. They are waiting on your presence, your majesty.”

Thranduil sighed, “Right. I spent my break seeking you out.” He looked at you once more and you opened your mouth to apologize – and for what? You had nothing to apologize for. But he pressed on before you could say anything. “Stay away from the edges of the path, Y/N. That’s an order. I care not for how agile you believe yourself to be. Is that clear?” You nodded quickly and he stated, “I will expect you at dinner. Have the servants freshen you up beforehand.”

Your heart was hammering as he walked away, leaving you alone again.

<><><>

Your solace was interrupted again but by a different blonde elf. Turning a corner, you found yourself staring at Legolas.

“Your grace. Is the council meeting over then?”

Legolas narrowed his eyes and asked, “What business do you have keeping track of the council meetings?”

“I… the King was in it and I supposed he was wanting me to get ready for dinner as soon as it was finished. I was only wondering…”

You trailed off, faltering under his intense gaze.

“I was not in the meeting. That is for the elders. He really did not tell you who was visiting us then to prepare you?”

Shaking your head, you said, “I thought… they lived here. Like you. And his generals.”

Legolas snorted, by stepping what you said to tell you, “My father is arrogant.”

“I…”

“It’s not something to argue. I just thought he would have more respect for my mother. He wouldn’t let me marry a Silvan elf but he will bring you – a human – to his bed. And even more preposterous… refer to you as becoming a lady. I can only see that as veiled language that he is moving to set you forward as lady of the realm… queen.” His tone tight, the offense apparent.

You did not know of any of things he spoke of outside of the apparent lust.

“I… I’m not going to be queen,” you started, shaking your head. “I did not ask for that. I didn’t… I haven’t been told—”

“My father doesn’t ask permission. Or have you not picked up on that.”

“I didn’t mean offense, your grace. I am only—”

‘I know you didn’t mean offense. You are too afraid to even attempt that. I didn’t buy the innocent act at first, but I can clearly see you are clueless.” The word made you flinch. “You do not have anything to take blame from here. From what I can see clearly now is that you were plucked from your village simply for his lust.” He stepped closer and told you as a matter of fact, “Human beauty does not last long, and he will regret his decision soon enough.”

He said it so coldly and you flinched once more. You could not read his expression now, if he was pleased or not that he had wounded you so swiftly.

But… if he was this upset about you being here, maybe you could find allyship in him. Biting back on your doubt, you stepped closer suddenly and he straightened at the movement.

“I… didn’t ask to come here. You are right. I want to go home. I miss my family. Terribly.” You trailed off, eyes searching his face, seeing if he was going to realize what you were asking.

Legolas’ brow furrowed, a traitor to his true emotion. He swallowed sharply and dipped his head towards you, speaking in hushed tones. “You are… bold to say that to me.” You realized that you had made a mess of things in your fear – gambling that he would help solely because he had made it clear he did not approve. And what he said next only confirmed it, “As much as I disagree with my father, I know when he’s made a decision. And what he says is final word. One would think you – a peasant – would know that if the King’s son is well aware of it.”

You said nothing, tears threatening. And Legolas noticed.

He straightened back up and stated, “The meeting will be over soon. If my father wants you ready, I would suggest making sure you are. He’s not patient.” He made to turn on his heel but stopped to eye you again. “And Y/N… don’t get any rash ideas. The forest is… full of trickery. And giant monsters. And if you happened to get through that… you don’t think he wouldn’t know exactly where you were going? It would be a fool’s errand. This is home now. It would be wise for you to realize that.”

<><><>

Legolas bowed deeply at the elven kin exiting the meeting room, the deepest at Lord Elrond. When they had passed, he entered the room, finding Thranduil sitting at the head of the table still, parchment spread in front of him. He took notice of Legolas walking down alongside the long table.

“The spiders have been cleared again?”

“Yes. There were quite a few that had been drawn in by Elrond’s company passing through, but it was no challenge.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Thranduil returned, beginning to straighten up the parchment. “You will bathe before dinner.”

Legolas nodded in affirmation before saying clipped, “I was speaking to Y/N just a half an hour ago.”

That news caused Thranduil to pause to peer at Legolas, “About?”

“Settling in.”

It took a few moments for Thranduil to answer him. Sighing heavily, he said, “You surprise me. How you manage to do that this many years in, well, I say you are just creative at finding ways to do it. I thought you were displeased with her being here?”

“She wants to go home,” Legolas responded, ignoring his question.

Thranduil froze again for just a moment. Hands leaving the parchment, he cleared his throat and picked up his goblet. The wine did little to settle the flame of annoyance that had been lit at that comment. He had feared as such and he did not suspect that Legolas was untruthful, lying was not in his nature.

He was measured when he spoke, “That is disheartening to hear. It astounds me that she would not be indebted to me for saving her from that squalor. Yet, humans are unpredictable and that is why it is always important to be on your toes around them.” He gave Legolas a stern look suddenly. “I’ll expect you to tell me if she is ever planning to try to leave?”

“I don’t think she is foolish enough to try that, father.”

“She’s young – a fledging, compared to us. She’s frightened – so it seems. Foolishness sweeps in like a storm and those two things are catalysts for it to find footing.” Thranduil took another drink and placed the goblet back down. He waved Legolas off, shoving down emotion. “I am sorry to have kept you. Go about your business. Dinner will arrive sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, sir,” Legolas responded before giving a curt bow and leaving the study.

As soon as Legolas was gone, Thranduil let out an annoyed noise, hands clenching atop the table. Humans were flighty and he was not going to let Y/N have the opportunity to take flight. He ground his teeth for a moment before ringing the loud bell on his desk.

“Your grace,” the servant greeted as soon as they entered the room.

“I want my guest to have an escort at all times. Send one of the guard. She should not be wandering around on her own. And I want it done now. Tell them to bring her straight to the dining hall.”

“Yes, your grace,” the servant answered before leaving the room quickly to do as he bid.

~~~

Fic tags: @juniperwoodwell @buttercandy16 @tigereyesf @asuni921 @coopsgirl @mjaudrey

#thranduil x reader #dark!thranduil #dark thranduil x reader #dark!thranduil x reader #my shit

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Poco a poco forte

In collaboration with @bethanysnow (whose askbox is always open!)

Jealousy was never a good look with stardust in the other’s eyes. Boundaries are tested. Fantasies are made hot and heavy with some alcohol. Will they make it back to the hotel all in one piece?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 5845

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei  @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut​ @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv  @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree​

***

Copenhagen was a whirlwind that barely left any time to breathe. Even the short break Y/n was granted in between was promptly used to make a dash for the nearest tourist shop. Adding a fridge magnet to her growing collection. No misses so far. She’d be lying if she wasn’t proud of it. Victoria gave a little tour through the city, giving ample opportunity to provide the fans with content via various social media platforms. A mad scramble back to the venue, soundcheck, dinner. A gig full of little mishaps, including Ethan losing a drumstick halfway through and Damiano almost tumbling off stage. At least the crew had gotten into a groove, ‘new tour’ jitters finally forgotten. That night, at the hotel, Y/n had found herself standing outside her door, empty ice bucket in hand. Somewhat wondering, hoping, someone would join her. Not just anyone. Him. But she wouldn’t knock on his door and he didn’t come to hers. It wasn’t to be. At least not that night. 

The morning had brought the band another wake-up call from Y/n. Everyone was starting to settle into their routine. Get ready, get on the bus, get handed coffee by Y/n. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying this little comfort of domestic bliss, taking care of the people she was starting to consider friends. It felt right.

***

Damiano’s morning wasn’t quite as peaceful. His thoughts were plagued by images of Y/n. His decision to ‘cool it’ and back off a little seemed to be biting him in the arse. When she had come around to wake him up, she had been in a partially sheer blouse, black jeans and boots and he thought she looked like the perfect little alternative housewife. Luring him out of bed with the promise of coffee and breakfast. Now he was sitting on the couch on the bus, watching Y/n fly around the little kitchenette and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her bum in those jeans.

Nope, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Not now. The conversation with Victoria two nights ago was still ringing in his head. He had decided she was right - no use in pursuing anything unless he was certain what he was feeling and what he wanted out of it. He would still have enough time to make his move once he figured it out. Right? He didn’t know what Y/n was thinking. Or what she thought of him, so no use dwelling on it. Still the thought struck him, he barely knew anything about her. He should probably talk to her more. Infallible logic, he thought to himself. Backing off and talking to her at the same time. Great.

“Y/n… how do you usually take your coffee, by the way?”

“Lots of creamer, usually. Sometimes a bit of sugar, if I’m feeling fancy. Or if I’m feeling really fancy at a café, I might get a caramel macchiato.”

“Caramel is always nice.” Of course, she would like caramel, he thought to himself. “Do you normally drink coffee or are you more or stereotypical British tea drinker?”

“I enjoy a cuppa when I’m home, definitely. Italians aren’t exactly known for their tea now, are they?” A smirk appeared on her face, maybe a little baffled by the conversation, but happy to humour him. “Lady Gray is a particular favourite. Followed by breakfast tea with some sugar and milk. Before coffee. I can make you some tea sometime if you fancy?”

“That’d be great. You know, I just had an amazing idea actually,” Damiano grinned. “When we first went to Berlin, there was this amazing tea shop - would you want to go when we have the gig there?”

“That sounds lovely,” Y/n replied. “Of course.”

Another step closer to getting to know her.

***

“Right, we’ve all got an hour until soundcheck and some press things, I’m gonna go take Chili on her walk, you lot do whatever you want until then.”

Y/n had expected a few non-committal grunts, a wave, maybe a “see you later, I’ll go have a nap”, but instead, the whole band seemed to be on their highest energy levels. All of them immediately scrambled to their feet, looking for shoes and jackets, proclaiming they wanted to see the city, maybe take some pictures for Instagram along the way. Y/n wouldn’t dare complain about the company.

It didn’t take them long to reach the harbour, walking along the river as they enjoyed the bustle of town and the view. Y/n found herself pulling out her phone, telling everyone to gather around her.

“I’m no photographer, but I do need some memories of all of this. Thomas, stop pulling that face!” Thomas quickly dropped the grimace as she took the picture, the historic old town in the background. Chili was busy running around between the five of them, loving whoever gave her the attention the most. Y/n thought Victoria was reaching for the leash, already preparing to hand it over, but instead the bassist grabbed her hand. Obviously in a giddy mood, she began swinging their intertwined hands between them as they walked. Y/n couldn’t bite back a smile. She had missed having a close friend ever since she had moved to Italy leaving her best friend behind in the UK and she felt like this blossoming friendship with Victoria could truly begin to fill the void in her heart.

The blonde girl pulled her into a deep hug as Chili decided to go bother Ethan instead.

“I want a photo with just you,” Vic explained, pulling out her own phone for a snapshot. Y/n complied with a sigh but wrapped her arms around her, ready to take the picture. Right as the click went off, Victoria pressed a kiss to her cheek, taking her by surprise. Neither of them could hold back a giggle at her face in the photo.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, by the way,” Y/n spoke up as a little break in the conversation offered itself. If only to distract from the affection and it worked perfectly. All eyes and ears on her. “I’ve booked a little dinner for tonight. But not just any dinner. A burlesque one!”

The group let out various cheers. Thomas immediately ran ahead of the group, shamelessly faking a striptease as they kept walking. Damiano made sure to record the performance, already giggling to himself. Thomas was in the middle of shrugging off his jacket, walking backwards, when - ouch! - he bumped into a pole, heavily bonking his head. Everyone erupted into hysterical laughter, and after rubbing the back of his head with a pour for a moment, even the guitarist joined in.

“You alright?” Y/n asked breathlessly, trying to hide the giggles in her voice, genuinely concerned about him still.

“Besides the fact that I just got all of you to drop your panties for me? I’m great!” The blond grinned at his own joke, as everyone else rolled their eyes.

“Yes! Oh my god, take me Thomas!” Damiano gasped dramatically, pushing himself up against Thomas, who grabbed onto his leg to dip him.

“Wait! Hold on!” Y/n shouted, once again grabbing her phone as the captured the moment. “Now that’s one for the fridge.”

***

Backstage was business as usual. Y/n once again took the time to watch the band soundcheck, always feeling soft looking at the way they played without having to be ‘on’, without putting on a big performance. Yet, she was still in work mode, phone displaying the name of a reporter she was waiting on, along with the name of the magazine she was working for. It didn’t take long for her to appear.

The woman was undeniably beautiful. Thin figure, long, red hair, picture perfect makeup. Even her clothes were pressed, luxury brands decorating her, adding to the pristine image. A press pass hung around her neck, acrylic nails tapping something into her phone. Leaning back, Y/n noticed the particular red leather on the bottom of the woman’s heels.

It was only after putting her phone away that she acknowledged Y/n at all.

“Anywhere I can sit down with the band?” Her eyes barely even met Y/n’s.

“Uh, yeah, once they’re done with soundcheck, they will be in the greenroom,” Y/n said, mustering the woman. “You the reporter?”

“Sure, sure. Can I go there now, sit down, get ready?”

Y/n studied the press pass on the woman’s neck, making sure she was actually the person they were looking for and shrugged. “Alright, follow me.”

She led the reporter further backstage. The greenroom was fitted with a couch and a couple of chairs, a vanity in front of the mirror and makeup already carelessly thrown around. A costume rack in the back.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” the woman muttered, looking around the room, obviously dissatisfied with it’s slightly chaotic state and - probably - lack of style. “That’s all I need you for, then.”

Y/n’s eye twitched, busying herself with the clothes, reorganising them to distract herself.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but rules are rules. Can’t be in a room alone, privacy reasons and all that. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Well then.” She carefully placed herself on one of the chairs, highly aware of her posture, her face, and the fact that she’d be right in view of everybody entering the room. “Maybe you can be a bit of help, then. You know, a little insider information between us girls… How into the whole, you know, rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle are they really? I’m talking, drugs, alcohol… groupies?”

It was no question as to what she was hinting at.

“Well, Damiano has a whole tattoo verifying that he hates parties. Plus, they’re not really known for that kind of stuff. And for the interview, I’d rather you stick to the approved questions that your magazine has discussed with our management. There’s no ‘insider information’ here -” Y/n was about to talk herself into a whole rant, when the door opened and the band moved into the room, joyous and hyped for the show that evening.

Victoria was the first to bounce over to Y/n, kissing her cheek, before collapsing on the couch next to her. Ethan, Thomas and Damiano followed suit. Chili had followed the band, now hopping onto the couch and making herself comfortable on Y/n’s lap. Ethan looked over at the reporter, brow raised. “You here to do the interview?”

“Oh you know it,” she winked. Y/n didn’t miss how her whole demeanour had changed and she couldn’t have been more annoyed. “Lovely to meet you all.”

She held out her hand to Ethan, the smirk never leaving her face, before greeting the others in a similar fashion. She held onto Damiano’s hand much longer than the others.

“Nice to meet you,” Damiano said, politely, sitting down as well.

“Oh, that’s no trouble at all,” she beamed at the singer. “Now, you’re here in Hamburg today, and in the part of town most notorious for having Europe’s largest red light district. Do you feel like that’s the perfect background for your gig tonight? You know, with the music you play and the way you dress - it’s not like you’ve been shy about sex in your career so far.” 

They all chuckled slightly.

“Well, sexuality isn’t something to be ashamed about, at least we don’t think so. It’s part of everyday life and part of our own experiences so we put that into music,” Victoria eloquently explained. “And what we’ve seen of the city so far has been very beautiful.”

“Well, maybe I should give you a little tour then, show you the naughty parts of town,” she laughed. “Back on topic though, I imagine touring can be hard, being away from everyone. Do you ever get lonely on tour? For friends or… something else?”

Damiano coughed. “Sure, we get lonely, like anyone else would. But we make a family out of the crew. Everyone on our team is very close to us.” Y/n could clearly see in his eyes that he knew full well what the woman was hinting at. “We love touring, so when you love something, it doesn’t feel like work.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. Y/n could see through all of them easily - none of them wanted to be there.

“Yes, of course, touring can be difficult, but we have fun, so not that bad,” Thomas added.

Y/n didn’t miss the way the reporter briefly looked over her shoulder to muster a reaction from her. “Well I’m sure you’re easily able to find some fun away from your… crew. Lots of parties on tour so far?”

At that point, Y/n was ready to rip the reporter to shreds. But she knew she had to stay professional, and the band was more than able to hold their own, so she stayed quiet. Ethan next to her sat up a little, obviously uncomfortable.

“No, we don’t party. No time.” His vision went dark as he looked at the woman in front of them. As kind and mindful as he usually was, he didn’t shy down when it came to showing his scarier side when he needed to.

“Yeah. We sometimes go to a bar on a day off, but that’s about it. Work is more important,” Victoria threw in as she put an arm around Ethan on the back of the couch.

Y/n felt a wave of pride at the way the band was holding up. It was absolutely no secret to her that they were desperately waiting for this interview to end, annoyed with the reporter and the lines she kept trying to cross, but they stayed polite and professional. She thought that this was what made them real rockstars in that moment.

“Okay, one more question, then. You entered this business really young, you still are, yet you write quite mature music, how do you manage that?”

“We write what we want to write. Perform how we want to perform. I don’t think that has an age limit,” Damiano spoke curtly. His eyes flickered over to their assistant. Y/n was sure he didn’t miss the way she was staring daggers into the back of the reporter’s skull. “And music has always been a passion of ours. We just got lucky really early in life, I guess.”

“Well thank you very much for your time,” the reporter said, standing up, and once again reaching out her hand to say her goodbyes. “Hope to see you around…” As she came to Damiano, Y/n didn’t miss how she stuffed a little note in his hand. “...hopefully.”

“Can I go kick her face now?” Y/n stood up, seething, as soon as the reporter had left the room. “Sorry, no, that’s actually rude. But I’m going to call management and report that woman.”

“Yeah, that… wasn’t cool,” Ethan contemplated. “How about you make that call and then we take your mind off it with the dinner show you booked for us, yeah?”

Y/n took a deep breath, looking at Ethan, whose eyes had turned back to show nothing but kindness. She couldn’t wait to forget about this disaster for the rest of the evening and enjoy herself. With the band in tow, she was sure she would.

***

Damiano hadn’t been quite sure what to expect from dinner that evening - but it wasn’t a table smack in the middle of the first row right in front of the stage. He should have seen it coming, really. When Y/n planned and schemed, she always made sure to get them the best of the best. Determined to make sure everyone was having fun. She truly took care of them like no other.

A waiter was at their table in no time, taking orders for drinks and food, and the openers started before Damiano even had a chance to take a sip of his wine. As soon as it became obvious that the first act of the evening would be pole dancing. The rest of the band started snickering, nudging Damiano’s side. Still, they all watched in amazement as the dancer started their performance, music filling the room.

“You know, I could do that,” Damiano whispered in Y/n’s ear as he leaned in close. She looked over at him - at the performer - back to him.

“Sure you can,” she giggled.

“Oh I can,” Damiano insisted, leaning in closer than necessary now. “And in heels.”

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from coughing, choking ever so slightly on her drink, as her eyes widened and a slight shade of pink appeared on her face.

Damiano simply couldn’t help himself. He knew he had meant to back off, give her a little space, give himself some time to think, but the words simply slipped out. “I can always offer you a private show, you know?”

This time, she only paused for a moment before whispering back, “You teach me pole dancing, I’ll teach you rumba, yeah?”

Fuck, he hadn’t expected her to get the upper hand so quickly. Still, he never once lost his smirk, murmuring a “sure” back at her. She had gotten back her cool, focusing back on her meal now, only looking up to watch the performance every now and then in between bites. She was making it way too hard for him to back off. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him.

Leaning back into his chair, Damiano watched the performer on stage. They were beautiful, no question about that. Amazing at what they did. It was impossible to keep your eyes off them, even Y/n kept getting distracted. He wondered if she’d look at him the same way if it was him up there. Or if he did a little show himself that night, on stage at their own gig. Catching her attention like the dancer was doing now. Maybe making her lose her mind a little bit. It was worth a try…

The performance was over much too quickly for his liking and only shortly after, the main dancer of the evening was announced to go on stage soon. It didn’t take long for the lights dimming, before fading to black completely. A hush falling over the crowd. A spotlight found a petite, blonde bombshell in the middle of the stage. Perfectly sculpted hair, blue boa feather skirt, a glitter corset that dripped with silver and gold accents. She seemed to be glistening under the stage light, body glitter accenting all the right curves and features. Then she turned around.

Damiano’s jaw dropped - along with just about everyone else’s. She was così bella, un angelo. She walked to the front of the stage as the crowd cheered and whistled. Damiano was enraptured by her. She was mystifyingly beautiful. Each move was carefully planned out, knowing exactly what she was doing and how to do it. She was feeding off the crowd, spurred on by the shouts and comments, as she moved across the stage.

Damiano’s eyes followed her closely. He felt hypnotised by her performance. He had never given burlesque much thought, but this show was changing his mind rapidly. The only thing to pull him out of his was a sigh - a disgruntled noise maybe - coming from his left. It was hard to make out Y/n’s face in the dark, he realised as he turned towards her. But if he’d learned anything about her body language in the past days, he was certain that she wasn’t happy. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she was leaned back in her chair in a way that tried to suggest she wasn’t bothered. But she was. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He was distracted when the dancer was back in front of their table, looking down at them from the stage. She sent all of them a wink, before pulling the elbow-length gloves off one by one and throwing them to the side with a smile. She mesmerised him, even as she moved away from them to give another table some attention. Yet, Y/n was playing at the back of his mind.

Why did she seem so mad? She was the one who had booked this dinner, why wasn’t she having fun? Was she still preoccupied with the reporter from before? Sure, that one had definitely stepped over lines, but he thought they’d all gotten out of there pretty unscathed. And the reporter's number had wandered into the bin immediately. He considered the matter closed.

The woman on stage slowly lowered herself into a split, causing pretty much the whole audience to lose their minds. This was too good. More cheers and applause from everywhere. Damiano heard Vic shouting vague words of encouragement as the woman lost her bra, only pasties covering her nipples now. Y/n let out a little groan and from the corner of his eye, he could see her rolling hers. This time, Damiano wasn’t the only one who noticed. He watched as Victoria and Ethan exchanged looks, then nods, and finally shrugs.

Finally the performance ended, the dancer leaving the stage with another wink and kiss blown towards them. Damiano wished it could’ve gone on for longer. These people knew how to turn sex into art, and he’d by lying if he said it didn’t inspire him.

“Okay, gather up, no time to waste,” Y/n order, getting up from her seat the second the lights were turned back on. “You have a show to play and I don’t want you to be late.”

Damiano threw another look around. Even Thomas, who had been too preoccupied drooling over the dancer to notice anything else, was now staring at Y/n questioningly.

“What’s going on with her?” The guitarist asked as they all gathered their stuff and followed their assistant outside.

“Fuck if I know,” Damiano mumbled. “But I wanna find out, sooner or later.”

***

It wasn’t like her to be jealous. She didn’t care much about what other people found enthralling. But Damiano had looked at the dancer as if she was god’s gift to humanity. Yes, she was pretty, yes, she knew how to shake her arse. Was it all that special? The dancer was petite, a perfect fit for Damiano’s arms. A perfect figure to match his. Y/n was confident, she knew she was beautiful, but unfortunately the rest of the world didn’t always think the same. Unlike the dancer on stage. That woman was more than beautiful… She was palatable, sexy, perfect in all the ways a woman should be. Qualities that Y/n was currently convinced she didn’t possess any of.

Okay, maybe she was jealous. But she didn’t have any right to be. The dancer was simply doing her job. And so what, if Damiano had fancied her? It wasn’t like they were together. She worked for him, that was all. She didn’t have any right to want anything from him beyond that.

The fresh air hit her face as she left the venue, forcing some clarity onto her. She’d have to get a grip and get back to focusing on her job. It’s what she was there for, after all.

***

Victoria bounced over the Y/n as she left the venue, full of adrenaline and happiness from the show she had just watched.

“That was amazing, Y/n! Where did you get the idea for this being today’s dinner?” She asked, hooking onto the assistant’s arm.

“Looked up places we could go online, found this one in a travel blog. Said it had amazing wine so I thought we could check it out,” she explained without looking up from her hands, which were toying with the receipt.

“Well, you sure do have impeccable taste,” Victoria grinned and kissed her cheek. It seemed to pull Y/n out of her head enough to look up at the bassist. But Vic’s smile vanished quickly when she saw the look in her eyes. It was cloudy, gloomy, enough to make Victoria freeze up. Thomas was excitedly chattering about the show in the performance in the background, how hot he thought the performers were, especially the last dancer. Damiano eagerly agreed. Y/n’s seemed to have a flash of venom on her face, and suddenly it clicked in Vic’s mind. Oh, she knew that look well, had carried it herself a couple of times in her life.. She was jealous. Y/n was jealous of the way they all - or maybe, someone in particular - had reacted to the woman on stage. And she was doing a bad job hiding it.

As soon as the car pulled up, everyone scrambled to get it. Y/n immediately started bouncing her leg, still a stormy look in her eyes. If it didn’t seem so serious, Victoria would be amused at the state their assistant was in. Yet, with the expression on her face right then and there, the bassist didn’t dare make a joke.

Damiano was sitting next to Y/n, and Victoria desperately tried to catch his eye. It took a slight kick against his shin to get him to look at her. She flickered eyes back and forth between Damiano and Y/n, motioning him towards the woman. Hoping he would understand. Luckily, they’d long gotten used to reading the other’s face, no need for a verbal conversation. Damiano looked down at Y/n’s hands, still picking at the receipt, and he quickly grabbed one of them. Interlacing their fingers and offering her a smile when she looked up. Her leg stopped bouncing immediately.

“You alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah. Am now.”

Victoria couldn’t bite back the smile on her face, quickly turning towards her phone to be less oblivious. Those two would do just fine, sooner or later, she was sure of it.

***

The concert venue was smaller than some of the others they’d been playing on this tour, but if anything, it had caused the crowd to be even more rowdy. Y/n once again sat to the side of the stage, engrossed in her phone. Damiano snuck a peek through the curtain, before retreating and watching Y/n instead. She didn’t seem half as gloomy as she did at the dinner show. But a certain forlorn quality was still obvious. She had never been this type of obviously sad or upset before. At least not to his attention. Well, he was determined to get her to laugh tonight. Whatever had ruined her mood, he was going to fix it.

The band was getting hyped up, gathering around, some last minute fixes to their instruments among excited chatter. Yet, apparently, it hadn’t been only him who noticed Y/n’s mood. Once again sharing a look with Ethan, Victoria motioned her head over to their assistant. He nodded, before walking over to Y/n, taking her by the hand to get her to stand up, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Victoria quickly followed suit, then Thomas, who had caught on. Damiano quickly gave a wink before kissing her forehead instead.

“For luck!” He shouted, as he ran on stage, welcoming the crowd. A quick look back confirmed a bashful smile on her face.

Everyone was on fire that night, even Y/n seemed to let go of her bad mood more and more. Damiano didn’t miss the way she sang along to their cover of ‘Take Me Out’, obviously getting into the show more than previous nights. Knowing all the lyrics, dancing ever so slightly… Damiano realised he really had it bad for her.

He decided to go for it during “For your love”. With a pointed look towards her, he slowly started rolling off one arm of his jacket. Then the other. A little mock burlesque show of his own, dramatically shimmying his shoulders as he got rid of the jacket completely. The crowd more than appreciated his little performance, judging by their screams. The rest of the band was eating his energy up, playing harder, going crazier. As Damiano jogged over to grab some water, he didn’t miss the opportunity to turn his back towards Y/n, shaking his arse in a bad attempt at twerking. Turning back, he could see that she was desperately trying to bite back a smile. But he wasn’t done yet.

Making sure she was still looking at him, he began playing with his microphone. Giving it a teasing lick and sending her a wink at the same time. Watching her as he let his hand rest on his chest, slowly wandering lower with a teasing touch, until it rested in his lap. He only managed to keep it up for a second, before he couldn’t hold back the laugh at her expression anymore and turned back towards the audience.

But apparently, Y/n had some trick of her own. Well, it seemed like she wasn’t even aware of them, but they worked on Damiano all the same. She was taking her hair out of the pony tail for the night and he thought the way it cascaded around her face was beautiful. He felt like a movie cliche, watching as the main character let her hair down and everything suddenly happened in slow motion. Yet, here she was, trying to shove a bobby pin back into place, and he was losing his shit. He thought it was ridiculous though. The crazier her hair went, the crazier he went about her. She swayed to the music and for a second Damiano could swear time stood still. 

I wonder if she likes her hair pulled… The thought distracted him to the point that he forgot what he was singing, quickly covering it up by animating the audience to sing it instead. He was glad to be nearing the end of the set. He’d never wish to go off stage, per se, but Y/n was once again occupying his thoughts and the way she was moving to the music now didn’t help.

Another song, another bow towards the audience, another well-practised “Danke!”, and they were off stage. Damiano briefly considered going over to Y/n, only to see Thomas basically chasing her away, threatening her with a sweaty hug. Her slightly panicked squeals proved she wasn’t a fan of the idea. He didn’t mind. He’d make sure there’d be more time to catch up with her later.

Briefly dropping into the dressing room, Damiano grabbed his cigarettes and a hoodie, before heading outside for a smoke. The backstage door led to a quieter alley than the famously busy Reeperbahn on the other end. But there were still more than a handful of people walking past, singing, dancing, shouting into the night, beer bottles in hand. It didn’t take long for everyone else to join him. Ethan headed outside first, bumming a cigarette off the singer, before Thomas and Victoria followed. They were once again involved in some sort of mock argument. Y/n stepped outside a minute later, phone in her hand, already back to work-mode and probably checking the plan for the next few days. Everyone was still on a high from the gig, chatting and giggling, but Damiano felt himself taking a step back. He loved watching his friends, loved what they did, loved that he got to do it with them. And now Y/n too, in a way. Not even a full week in and he knew that this tour wouldn’t have been the same without her. 

He was rapidly pulled out of his thoughts as a group of men came towards them, obviously way past drunk. Yelling and hollering for no reason but to be annoying and get everyone’s attention. Damiano hated those kinds of drunks. In his experience they were nothing but trouble. He had half a mind to retreat back inside before they reached the group, but even in their inebriated stupor; they were quicker than expected. 

“Now, who are these beautiful girls?” One of them slurred, stepping forward.

“Yeah! Bet you give a man a good time,” another one laughed loudly. “And a cheap one too.”

One of them was moving closer now, almost touching Victoria - but without even a moment to process what was happening, Y/n acted. Damiano watched, fascinated, as she grabbed the man’s extended hand, twisting it around his back and shoulder checking him into the brick wall of the alley. No second thought, no hesitation. Shouldn’t the men have been the one to react and take care of their girls? Well, it didn’t seem like Y/n was one to wait to be saved.

In a tone that he had never heard before - and neither had the rest of the band judging by their reactions - Y/n spoke, “You couldn’t afford me, mate. Or my friends. So I’d take your piss drunk self elsewhere, m’kay?”

The men were gone faster than lightning, stumbling to find their footing as they ran, only starting to comment on how she was a “fat fucking bitch” and how they “wouldn’t have wanted her anyway” when they were far enough away. Y/n wordlessly rejoined the group.

Damiano found himself releasing a breath. The whole scene had been over so quickly, he barely registered it. He wasn’t the only one either, he realised. As the other three kept staring at her, amazed and maybe slightly intimidated, while Y/n didn’t even react.

However, Damiano wasn’t just mesmerised by her behaviour. He was thrilled by her - in more ways than one. The way she had handled herself was downright hot. She was fierce, self-confident, and strong. He couldn’t keep himself from contemplating whether this was a side she would let out in the bedroom as well. Was she the type to take control? Order him around? Push him to a wall like she’d done that guy, only with very different intentions? He would be 100% okay with taking orders from her, he decided.

Y/n finally looked up from her phone, apparently feeling everyone’s stares on her.

“...What. I told you I worked security before.” She looked at Victoria, quietly asking her if she was alright. She simply nodded. Damiano still couldn’t keep his eyes off of their assistant. Damn, that woman had more to herself than she let on.

***

Damiano was still thinking about it an hour later. After everyone had gathered their stuff and gotten back to the hotel and split up into their rooms. After he’d gotten in the shower. His mind was still running wild. He quickly turned the water to cold, letting out a hiss at the change in temperature, but he knew he didn’t have the time or the privacy to do anything about his thoughts. Neither would he be knocking on Y/n’s door, desperate for some kind of attention.

Not tonight.

#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #quiet music #bethanysnow #mywriting

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Imagine helping Legolas deal with a sprained ankle

It was all your fault, so Legolas would say.

“If you hadn’t had been so reckless, I wouldn’t have had to jump down from the boulder to assist you with the orc,” he’d complain regularly, from his position forcibly laying down in his sleeping pack with an elevated foot.

Whenever he’d try to rise again to bicker louder with you, a tending Aragorn would push him down again with a hand to his chest.

It was funny the first few days, you couldn’t lie, but now? Well, now it was just sad.

Legolas prided himself on his athletic ability, that much was obvious to you and the rest of the Fellowship early into your journey.

He’d regularly prance ahead like a young foal, or walk across snow with a smug smirk on his face. He was the strongest member there, and never let anyone forget it. This is also why he took injury the worst out of everyone.

It wasn’t, in all actuality, technically your fault. You needed help with an orc, yes, but Legolas timing his jump wrong and spraining his ankle had nothing to do with you.

Alas, he was gaining cabin fever from his immobilised state, therefore anger was bubbling in his chest—directed at you. You didn’t take it personally, but it was starting to wear down on you.

The walks through the days were slower, as Legolas would limp along with a homemade walking stick, fashioned out of a long branch.

Whenever he’d notice you or someone else looking at him over his shoulder, as he bared his teeth in wincing hurt, he’d quickly glare and push on harder.

You’d softly shake your head, but look away regardless.

It was unnatural to see an elf in such a state, like roses freezing over. Even more so, it was unnatural to see Legolas so grumpy. He was quite light-hearted at the beginning of the journey—you remember making a mental note that he’d probably be one of the best to hang around with due to so.

Alas, his sprained ankle and no doubt self-inflicted embarrassment brought the deeply rooted competitiveness out within him.

You were all sat around a fire tonight (save for Boromir and Gimli, who were off scouting the area), like many other evenings—laughing and pulling rabbit meat off of a skewer.

Legolas was a few yards away, pouting in his sleeping bag. You had brought his food to him a few minutes earlier, but he turned you away and claimed he wasn’t hungry.

“You’ll need sustenance to heal, little elf,” you laughed, trying to humour him.

All you received was a gruff grunt, and, “Don’t tell me how elves heal—I’m quite aware of my own race, thank you very much.”

You heard Pippin hissing through a wince, and bared your own teeth in cringe as you turned on your heel and headed back towards the campfire.

“Pay him no mind,” Aragorn said, leaning across to you. “Elves, especially the Mirkwood strain, are very prideful folk. He’ll come to his senses once his foot heals.”

“I can’t imagine it’ll heal anytime soon if he keeps pushing himself every day like he’s doing,” you pointed out.

Aragorn sighed. “That is entirely Thranduil’s blood coming out in him.”

“Remind me to never step foot in Mirkwood then,” you grinned.

Aragorn gave a toothy smile back, and bonked his skewer with yours in a “cheers to that” motion.

You could feel Legolas’ eyes burning into the back of your head, but paid it no mind. You didn’t dare glance over your shoulder, lest Mordor freeze over.

The rest of the camp continued on in low chatter, that is until Boromir and Gimli came rushing back—completely out of breath.

“What is it?” Aragorn asked right away.

“Orc scouts,” Boromir answered, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Thirty, give or take, approaching from the west.”

The camp looked around at each other quickly in fright, before Aragorn jumped into action. Rising to his feet, he grabbed his sword and dictated everyone else to do the same.

“We’ll meet them half way and use the element of surprise,” he said.

Legolas began rising to his own feet, though, a great deal of strained effort was noticeable on his end.

“I’m coming, I just need to get my bow,” Legolas announced, barely able to move the foot resting on a sleeping pack.

“No, not you, mellon nîn,” said Aragorn, upholding a hand and motioning for Legolas to lay down again. “Please, stay behind. Though your valiance is admirable, you will only get in the way of this fight. Rest, and fight when your ankle heals.”

Legolas’ face contorted in hurt, and you imagined this was the first time the athletic prince had ever been sidelined.

You all stood around in misplaced guilt, fiddling with your swords and avoiding eye contact with Legolas.

Finally, the elf’s jaw set, and he forcibly fell back down into sheets—turning over and pulling the covers up over his shoulder.

“We can’t leave him vulnerable,” Sam pointed out, whispering quietly as to not anger Legolas further. However, you could see his pointed ears twitching back, and knew he heard every gut-punching word.

Aragorn nodded, and turned his eyes to you. The hobbits had to stay under the protection of Aragorn, and leaving Frodo and the Ring out of sight and alone behind in the camp simply wasn’t an option.

Aragorn gestured between you and Legolas discreetly. Understanding his words, you dropped your shoulders and sighed.

“I’ll stay back and tend to the camp,” you announced.

The rest of the Fellowship gave you an apologetic look, before running off into the forest towards the orcs.

You were soon left with the silence of the camp, save for the angered breathing of Legolas and the crackling of the dimming fire.

Stood there unsure of what to do in the awkward space, you continued fiddling with the pommel of your sword, and looked at Legolas.

His back was rising and falling quickly—clearly infuriated with the whole situation. You felt bad for him, you really did, but you were still unsure of how to approach him.

Looking down to the fire again, you saw untouched skewers of meat, and arrived at a resolution.

With the food in hand, you walked over to the prince. He could hear you coming, and with every crunch of your boots on the foliage, his eyes twitched.

Sitting down beside his back, you placed a hand on the broad of his shoulder and shook him gently. “The rabbit smells really good, and has that beautiful, slightly charred smoky taste. Seems a waste to not eat it, no?”

“Not hungry,” Legolas grumbled.

“You need to heal your ankle, Legolas,” you said again, this time sterner. “You need to ea—”

“Not. Hungry.”

Thinning your lips, you shook your head down at Legolas in disappointment. “Legolas, I know you’re upset with me regarding your ankle, but holding a grudge isn’t going to—”

He swiftly turned over in his pack, and stared at the dimming fire.

“We need more firewood,” he said, glaring at the dying flames.

You followed his line of sight, and noticed he was indeed right. However, you recalled the orcs and what Aragorn expected of you.

“We’ll just have to wait for the others. I can’t leave the camp to fetch more, and I definitely can’t leave you vulnerable to—”

“Ugh! I’ll do it myself!” Legolas exclaimed. He rose swiftly and tried limping out into the woods with clenched fists and squared shoulders.

“Legolas!” you called, quickly grabbing your sword and cursing under your breath. “Wait! You shouldn’t be on that ankle!”

But he was already marching on.

Heading a few strides out into the forest, Legolas went farther and farther to find the best firewood. You ran behind him, surprised he could go so far for someone who was injured.

“Wait!” you yelled again, finally jumping out in front of him. “Go back to sleep, Legolas. Now.”

He merely glared at you, and stepped around your form—pushing on.

Groaning in frustration, you turned around and pulled on his shoulder. “I’m serious, Legolas! There are orcs out here at the moment, and I need to stay by the camp!”

“Then you can go back,” Legolas growled, forcibly shoving your hand off of his shoulder. “I don’t need to be babysat by you.”

“No,” you agreed, “but you do need my help with your ankle!”

Grabbing the bottom of his cloak, you started pulling him back towards the camp.

“Let go!” he shouted, digging his one good heel into the ground and pulling his cape back—initiating a tug of war between you both.

“No!” you denied, pulling the cloak again. “You’re coming back with me, and that’s final!”

“NO!” Pull. “I’m helping by getting firewood!”

Yank. “You’re not helping at all! You’re putting me in a tough situation instead!”

“It’s not your problem!” Tug.

“Yes, it is!” you exclaimed, pulling the cloak one more time. “It is my problem, because you’ve become a HUGE problem for the entire Fellowship!”

Upon pulling one last time, Legolas lost his footing and tripped, causing you both to fall down.

You each groaned in pain as your backs were sprawled across the foliage. Legolas was the first to sit up, but immediately yelped in pain as he did so.

He held his ankle tight, and bared his teeth as to stop himself from crying out.

“It’s worse,” he whispered, avoiding your eyes. “My ankle—I think I hurt it more.”

You stared at Legolas in horror, as he clutched said sore ankle. You sat up next to him, and ran a finger along it.

He jolted immediately, and fought back another cry by biting down on his bottom lip.

“Dammit, Legolas…” you cursed, furrowing your brows and shaking your head. “Why couldn’t you have just listened to me? You need to rest.”

Upon glaring up at him, you were taken aback, for there were unshed tears in the elf’s eyes. He was clearly holding himself back from letting them fall, as he sniffled and studied his ankle.

“Legolas?” you called softly, reaching a hand up and gently directing his chin to face you. “What’s going on with you?”

Letting the first tear fall, and swallowing the lump in his throat, Legolas spoke up in a quiet voice—finally unbottling his emotions.

“I’m supposed to be the athlete,” he said, studying your eyes before looking down again. “I was always the best in training. I’ve pushed myself through rain, mud and more, because I’ve always been the best. And now? Now I can’t even fetch firewood for my friends...”

Sympathy overtook your eyes, as you suddenly understood the elf.

“You still are the best here, Legolas,” you promised, trying to catch his eyes as he averted them. “A sprained ankle means nothing in the grand scheme of it. You are, without a doubt, the strongest one of us here. None of us think differently of you simply because you’re hurt.”

“But I feel so useless!” he exclaimed, letting a few more tears fall. “My friends are out there right now pulling their own weight against the orcs, and I’m stuck here crying on the ground because I can’t even walk.”

“But you will walk again,” you assured him, turning his chin once more. “And when that day comes—which isn’t too far off, mind you—those orcs will wish they hadn’t ever left Mordor.”

You laughed brightly for a moment in afterthought, earning a smile from Legolas.

“What?” he asked gently.

“Do you remember how you took that cave troll down in Moria?” you chuckled again, thinking of the memory. “You scaled atop the darn thing and shot two arrows into its brain!”

“Three…” Legolas sheepishly corrected, now grinning in a shy way.

“Three,” you annulled, grinning back up at him. “Trust me, Legolas. Your friends think nothing less of you than pure amazing talent. Don’t let it eat away at you.”

Legolas nodded to himself for a moment, before another sheepish grin formed on his lips. “Speaking of eating…are there any of those rabbit meat skewers still left back at camp?”

You smiled warmly, and helped him up.

He tentatively accepted your aid, and slowly wrapped an arm over your shoulder, as you helped him limp back to camp.

“C’mon, athlete. Let’s get you some food.”

#Legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas x reader imagine #legolas x you #lotr x reader #lotr x y/n #lotr x you #the lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x y/n #lord of the rings #lotrdaily #lotr movies #the hobbit #elves #hobbit #legolas #silmarillion #mirkwood #lotr shitpost #legolas greenleaf #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #lotr Legolas imagine #Legolas imagine #Tolkien imagine #fellowship x reader #fellowship x y/n #fellowship x you #the fellowship of the ring

[guardianofrivendell]

Crushing

Thranduil x reader

Requested: Yes! Requested by anon during my 250 followers sleepover. It was too long, so I made it a separate post.  Anon requested: “Congrats on followers! You deserve it 💐 Could you do #4 and #41 from fluff prompt list with Thranduil? He’s just 😍

Prompts: “Kiss me” and “You’re crushing me right now.”

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Your quick footsteps sounded through the halls of Mirkwood, echoing loudly because of the high ceilings. One of the many disadvantages of being a human in the world of Elves.

Every Elf you passed made no sound. No step could be heard, not even the rustling of their clothes.

They were used to your graceless behavior by now, hardly paying any attention as you rushed by them.

You halted right in front of the heavy double doors of the throne room.

The two guards keeping watch eyed you carefully. “King Thranduil was expecting you sooner, my lady,” one of the guards spoke up, reprimanding you, and he made a move to open the door. You raised your hand to stop him.

“Give me a second,” you panted.

Your hands flew over the skirt of your dress to try and make it presentable again, smoothing out the creases from all the running. You turned towards the other guard.

“How’s my hair?”

The guard swallowed loudly, taken aback by your question. He looked towards his companion for support. You always let your hair down, unbraided. Very common for a woman, highly unusual for an Elf. As if you didn’t stand out enough already with your behavior alone.

“It’s uhm… Very ebullient, my lady,” the guard answered, carefully choosing his words.

You frowned. “I don’t even know what that means, but I’ll guess it’s a compliment.  You can let me in.”

The wooden doors swung open, and you made your way towards the empty throne.

When you reached the stairs, you grabbed your dress and lifted it up a bit so you could see where you placed your feet. He’s probably in one of the back rooms, you thought.

You had absolutely no idea why Thranduil had summoned you. Ever since you arrived in Mirkwood, saved from the spiders by Legolas and the guard, he was fascinated by you. He offered you a room, clothes and allowed you to stay.

Tauriel had informed you that this was highly unusual for Thranduil, normally he would have thrown you in the dungeon simply for trespassing his land, mostly for being human.

But instead, Thranduil had sent seamstresses to make you dresses and over time he even invited you to dine with him now and then. It didn’t take long for you to be completely enamored by him. You easily looked beyond his regal front and harsh words, knowing it wasn’t the real Thranduil. He was just overcome with grief.

You couldn’t help but think he was different when he was around you.

Just as you had thought, you found him in one of the rooms behind the throne.

“King Thranduil?” He turned around when he heard your voice. You thought you saw a hint of a smile coming from his lips, only to disappear as fast as it had come.

“Y/N, still having difficulties with timing I see?” he smirked, but before you could give an apology, he raised his hand to stop you. “I had already foreseen this, dinner should be ready by now.”

“Dinner?”

You hadn’t been prepared for a dinner with the King. If you had known, you would have changed your dress and at least tried to do something with your hair.

“Is that a problem?” Thranduil asked, and a hint of a certain emotion flashed over his face. He regained himself quickly, and towered over you, waiting for your response.

“Not at all,” you smiled.

“Good. Then follow me,” he said and gestured towards the door. All royal dinners were held in the King’s dining room, even his private ones.

You walked towards said dining room with Thranduil as your guide, when you suddenly realized what emotion you noticed on him before. It was rejection! But that couldn’t be? Sure, it wasn’t ‘normal’ to be invited for private dinners all the time, Tauriel and some of the maids had made that very clear to you. And he kept sending gifts to your room once in a while, but you had brushed it off as him being thoughtful, wanting you to feel at home. Did he meant something by it?

Because you were so enthralled in your discovery you hadn’t noticed Thranduil waiting for you in the door opening, and you walked right into him.

Everything that followed happened so fast, but it felt like slow motion to you. When you bumped into him, you had stepped on his ridiculously heavy, but long robes. Since you were looking at the ground, you immediately noticed you were soiling Thranduil’s expensive robes with your muddy boot and raised your foot. This caused you to lose your balance, and in an attempt to keep you upright, you grabbed the curtains in front of you as a last resort to save you from embarassment.

Only… they weren’t curtains, but Tranduil’s robes. Yes, the same ones you had stepped on. He really needed to change his wardrobe...

Thranduil was caught off guard, and when you put all of your weight on his clothes, you dragged him with you to the ground.

Luckily he was still an Elf and a gentleman, and before you hit the ground, he had turned you over so he would break your fall.

If anyone would enter, this would be very hard to explain…

“I am so sorry!” you gasped.

“Uhm, you are kind of crushing me right now,” he mumbled in the fabric of your clothes. You sat back on your knees, and slowly stood up, eyes wide. Thranduil followed your example, although he did this in a much more graceful way. “Y-you are crushing on me?”

His eyes widened too.

“No… No! That’s not what I was saying!”

Your face fell and that tiny sliver of hope sunk right back to the bottom of your heart. “Oh…”

You suddenly felt the need to rush out of the hall and turned around to do just that.

“Wait,” he interrupted your thoughts, taking a few steps towards you. “You are disappointed?” Thranduil looked at you questioningly.

Your cheeks and ears turned red, you could feel the heat rise. “Your silence speaks for you.”

By the time he had finished his sentence, he stood right in front of you. The train of his robes trailing behind him.

“You really should do something about those long robes. They’re dangerous.”

Dangerously handsome,  you thought.

“They’re fit for a King,” Thranduil smiled. “Stop changing the subject.”

You sighed, and kept staring at your feet. Stupid clumsy feet.

He put his thumb and index finger on your chin and slowly lifted it, so he could meet your eyes.

“I’ll repeat my question,” he said, lowering his voice. “Were you disappointed?”

You nodded, your eyes locked in his. He smiled a lopsided smile you had never seen before and it made your breath hitch.

“In that case…kiss me.”

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