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moonrainbowfish · 2 years

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The Hobbits raising gn!child!reader

Bilbo Baggins

First this Hobbit comes back from an "unrespectable" adventure and now he's taking care of some lost child he found near outside the Shire, nah this just ain't right was what his neighbors thought, but Bilbo Baggins, son of Belladonna and Bungo begged to differ. He'll teach you all about what it means to be a Baggins. He's never had any biological children of his own, but it didn't really matter if you were blood-related, or not. Bilbo cares about you like a father. Not having much experience in parenting does make him kind off anxious sometimes. He's just scared you'll get hurt, or those bloody Sackville-Bagginses would try to scare you away, but he'll stand up to them and send anyone who dares to try to hurt his little darling, home with their tails between their legs because let's be honest. Bilbo's probably grown a spine, maybe two after his adventure. When he takes Frodo in, you two become like siblings, causing all sorts of mischief and pranks around the Shire, much to Bilbo's annoyance but it did warm his heart to see his child and nephew becoming such good friends.

Frodo Baggins

Oh this traumatized hobbit, bless his little heart. He'd do anything for his child. He'd be a gentle parent in my opinion. After having endured so much pain and suffering Frodo just wants his child to have the best life. He would never ever want to them to endure the same pain he has. Frodo would also try to spend a lot of time with his kid, telling them about his favourite stories and about the journey to Mordor. He had lost his parent at a very young age for hobbits so Frodo makes sure to give you as much attention as possible and in a way you're his little sunshine that reminds him of much happier days. If it weren't for you, his beloved child, he'd never thought he'd feel the same happiness ever again he felt before the one ring came to him. You're the little light in his life he never knew he needed and he's so happy he gets so see you grow up and he will always care about you.

Samwise Gamgee

I think that Samwise Gamgee has always dreamed of having his own family one day, preferably a big one. So when he saw you, a lost injured child without a home, he immediately took you in. His father, the Gaffer became like a grandfather to you and Sam's siblings, especially his sisters were always doting over you, knitting, sewing you clothes, or giving you their old toys. Sam would teach you how to cook and when you get sick, he'd make you some vegetable soup and you'll feel better in no time. Gardening is also one of the things your dad Sam would teach you and when Elanor and his other children are born he feels like the happiest hobbit dad in the world, because who else would have such a delightful big family. Seriously, there's never a boring moment and Sam and his wife Rosie love you all with all their hearts. It didn't make a difference to him if you weren't a hobbit and ended up being way taller than him or not, you'll always be his little potato.

Rosie Cotton

This lovely hobbit lady is so underrated and it's a crime. I really wish we knew more about her, but Rosie always striked me as a super sweet and friendly gal. One day she found an abandoned child in the Shire and being the sweethearted Miss that she is, she took them home and started caring for them. Even bringing them to her workplace where the other hobbits would look in awe at "her" cute child. When Elanor is born Rosie was so happy for her little one to have a big sibling now and all of her other children would look up to them as well, getting in all sorts of play fights and mischief with Rosie and her husband Sam smiling at their beautiful family. She would sew you new clothes and bake you the most delicious pies ever. Rosie would absolutely be a kind and wonderful mother and she is grateful for her gorgeous family.

Meriadoc Brandybuck

Now this hobbit lad is definitely more clever than other people give them credit for, so when he becomes a dad, he'd really give some off his wisdom to his child. Telling them stories about how he and Éowyn defeated the Witch King and when Pippin and him got captured by orcs. Speaking of Pippin, this rascal would definitely become sort of an uncle to you and you couldn't ask for a more funnier one than him. Merry definitely matured a lot after the journey, so when Pippin tells you stories about how he and Merry stole food from farmers, he'd glare at his cousin, because Merry doesn't want you to get any wrong ideas, much to yours and Pippin's amusement. But despite everything, Merry is very proud to be your dad. It doesn't matter if you're a hobbit, elf, dwarf, or other, he deeply cares for you and always will. And I'm more than sure his wife Estella will cherish you like her own child as well.

Peregrin Took

When he was younger, Pippin got scolded for being too childish and being the son of Paladin, a very important member of hobbit society, he grew up to be his heir. Pippin would remind you to keep that joyful side of yours, to embrace it. Now he wouldn't encourage you to steal from farmers like he did, when he was a youngling, but he would remind you to stand up for yourself and never let anyone make you feel small, or useless. During the journey to destroy the ring, he was the youngest of all the Fellowship members, so I'm certain there were at least a few times when he felt underestimated, so Pippin makes sure his child gets to live life to the fullest, having a happy childhood, enjoying the simple pleasures of life and having fun. His older sisters would take good care of you too and they're the best aunts you could ask for. When he marries Diamond and little Faramir is born they are so happy to have you as a part of their lovely family and that their youngest gets to grow up with the best big sibling in the whole Shire.

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just-a-little-cellist · 1 year

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Samwise Gamgee and elf reader made me cry deeply inside at the fluff and I don’t know how else to satiate this need, except to please request more fluffy (maybe smutty) writings on their happily ever after. Especially since I believe eventually Sam must too go to the undying lands since he held the ring after Frodo was paralyzed? (In the books at least?). Does his elf wife give him a big bunch of kids? Or are they a small family with one or two? Gotta know about those half elf half hobbit babies.

(oooh yes okok I'm gonna do some headcanons on this :) enjoy!)

(Sam x female!elf!reader, continuation of this post)

Once you first move to the Shire with him, Sam gives you as much time as you need to settle in before he starts bombarding you with anything.

He more than happily shows you around and introduces you to everybody (the introductions may or may not come at a party that Merry and Pippin may or may not have organized in secret).

Once you are fully settled and happy, Sam is quick to propose to you. It isn't a huge busy affair, just a simple romantic evening together, and he proposes as you watch the sunset.

Obviously you say yes.

The wedding planning is not something either of you are particularly fussy about, so if there's a really particular thing you'd like then he's fine with it.

Most, if not all, of the Shire is invited to celebrate, along with a few close friends from further lands. The remainder of the Fellowship is present, who cheer by far the loudest when the two of you kiss, along with Arwen, Faramir and Eowyn.

Sam just about feels his heart stop beating when you tell him you are pregnant for the first time.

Cue a mild sequence of panic and many gentle reassurances from you.

The pregnancy is not easy by any means, but it is certainly nothing to panic over and you have very few complications, and soon enough you give birth to a wonderful baby girl.

Her hair is light and curly, just like her father's, and the tips of her little ears come to a point - an indication that she was definitely half elf.

At your suggestion, which Sam enthusiastically agrees to, you name her Lily.

You end up having four more children over the years - two boys and twin girls. They are all a handful to deal with sometimes, but Merry and Pippin are the best uncles ever, and will happily spend a day with them to give you and Sam a break.

Because of how tall you are compared to them, be prepared for your children to just start climbing you at any given moment.

You watch, hand in hand with Sam, as they grow up in front of you, and you watch as your husband begins aging too.

Wrinkles begin to form on his skin, his joints begin to ache, and you fear his mind is not as sharp over time as it once was.

You begin to prepare. Many years ago you had consulted with Arwen and Legolas about this eventuality, and had it all planned out.

So when all your children have grown up and started their own lives, and Sam tells you he fears it is his time to go, you simply smile softly.

You have explained to your children already, and while they are sad that the both of you are leaving, they understand and promise to take care of each other.

You take Sam back to Rivendell, where he had asked you to stay so long ago, and find a boat waiting for you.

His hand over yours, he murmurs "Where... where are we my dear?"

"Do not worry, my love. We are going to join my kin."

And with that, you board the boat, and sail to the Undying Lands with your husband.

#lotr #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings incorrect quotes #samwise gamgee #sam gamgee #sam lotr #sam x reader #samwise x reader #sam x y/n #sam gamgee x reader #sam x you #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x y/n

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frodo-with-glasses · 1 year

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Discord Highlights: WAIT! Beregond! (And Too Many Pippins)

[4/28/23]

meg is me:

I like to think Faramir is the oldest of Pip's kids just because of how triumphant Pip would be to name his son Faramir before Merry gets the chance to use the name 😂

InvisibleWashboard:

Imagine Faramir getting the letter from Pippin telling him, "Yooooo I had a son and guess who we named him after?!" I feel like Faramir would be so freaking excited.

meg is me:

Beregond like shoot i was saving that for kid or grandkid name

Me:

WAIT. I headcanon that Beregond and Inzilbeth were expecting another baby fairly soon after getting settled in Ithilien with Beregond’s new job. Imagine it’s a boy. Imagine Beregond names that boy Faramir.

[4/30/23]

Windmill to the Stars:

Would it be taking this joke too far if Pippin had another son he named Beregond and called him Berry?

Me:

WAIT. PIPPIN NAMING A SON BEREGOND. THAT’S TOO HECKIN’ CUTE 🥰😭

I’m just imagining him rolling up to Ithilien like “and here are my sons, Faramir and Beregond and—” so on and so forth, deliberately pretending to not notice how both Lord Faramir and his bodyguard right beside him are suddenly holding back tears.

chaosandwhatnot:

Or or beregond has a second son and names him peregrin because pippin saved his life at the black gate

Writing Valkyrie:

Both

Princess of Words:

Or both!

Me:

[5/2/23]

Me:

Ladies. Romans. Countrymen.

I’ve been scrolling back through our discussions here looking for stuff to post on the blog, and I just realized I neglected to share a particular mental image at the time it was relevant.

So we all know that Pippin canonically names a son Faramir, right?? And in our headcanons, Beregond named a son Faramir too??

Imagine. Pippin brings his family to Ithilien. Beregond brings his son to work.

There are now three Faramirs in that room.

AND. If Pippin names a son Beregond, and Beregond names a son Peregrin, there are also two Beregonds and two Pippins in that room.

I almost don’t dare imagine that Faramir would name any kids after those who saved him from the pyre because that means nine people in the room and three names shared between all of them.

Imagine the chaos. I can’t even. The world would probably collapse by the sheer power of three Pippins alone.

chaosandwhatnot:

Well according to our headcanons there ARE three pippins The og Beregond's son And periadoc

OH NO WAIT THERE ARE FOUR PIPPINS PIPPIN GAMGEE

InvisibleWashboard:

I love this so much. So, so much! Chaos? Of course. But like…. Adorable fluffy chaos.

All I can picture is all of them ending up doubled over with laughter over name confusion.

[Bonus - 4/30/23]

Me:

At this rate we’re gonna have an entire generation of post-Quest kids named after their parents’ friends 🤣🤣

InvisibleWashboard:

And this is a problem why??? Imagining all their happy endings is giving me life right now.

chaosandwhatnot:

Merry: hey pippin

Several voices echoing through middle earth: yes?

InvisibleWashboard is @invisiblewashboard, Windmill to the Stars is @windmilltothestars, chaosandwhatnot is @grondds-and-roses, Writing Valkyrie is @writingvalkyrie, Princess of Words is one of our beloved anons, and meg is me does not have tumblr :-3

#fig tree discord server #faramir #beregond #peregrin took #pippin #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #other people's writing #i really need to go back through the blog and tag princess of words' asks more comprehensively lol

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tanoraqui · 2 years

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Just want you to know that your Pseudo-Democratic Valinor post gave me the mental image of Master Samwise Gardner, formerly Gamgee, High King Of The Noldor.

I'm not even mad, that's hilarious to me.

I mean, by the early Fourth Age, the politics of Eldamar are definitely shaped by:

comfortable peace for longer than many people remember

old family feuds that are maintained partly out of real grievance, partly as a hobby

absolutely everybody knows absolutely everybody else, including all newborns

care for simple growing things (as well as, admittedly, elaborately constructed palaces made entirely of gemstones or something)

So...yeah, being High King in early Fourth Age Tirion is probably very much like being Mayor of Hobbiton! Sam would do fine. He came here to retire, though, so he wouldn't want to do it for long... Fortunately, when they semi-accidentally elected Frodo immediately upon his arrival in Valinor (and Frodo really just wanted to retire), they hastily passed a new law stating that, while the usual term for High Kingship is 100 years, in the case of more change- and weariness-prone mortals, it would be one year only.

(How was Frodo "semi-accidentally" elected High King of the Noldor? Well...

Over the years, the High Kingship has become a primarily ceremonial role, though the High King is the only one allowed to declare war and/or blasphemous rebellion on behalf of the Noldor, and might be called upon to decide judicial or moral arguments that lesser kings dispute. Most centuries, the position is held by Arafinwë, on account of historically famous common sense, unassuming but raw badassery, and the tendency of the general Noldorin populace to hew stubbornly to the line of Finwë in leadership positions. ["General Noldorin populace" being at this point roughly defined as, "all those who register to vote for and respect the authority of the High King of the Noldor", with established legal complications involving where people live, what guild they are or are not part of, and also most parts of the political system are experimentally changed every 500 years on average...but the High Kingship remains, because, essentially, everyone is more comfortable with a proven-responsible referee.]

It's usually Arafinwë, but because it's increasingly ceremonial, sometimes someone else is elected as sort of a popular award of great recognition. A painter named Helyanwillë was elected after unveiling her mountainside-sized mural of the Ainulindalë, to gaze upon which brings an echo of the Great Music to mind. The three-elf team who cracked the secrets of generating and taming lightning to run through wires and power things like dishwashers were jointly elected in TA 1200. There was a brief run of electing the old kings of Beleriand circa the 5000th anniversary of Dagor Bragollach: Fingon had a good term, Finrod threw some amazing parties, and then Turgon, after acting exasperated but tolerant in the whole run-up to his election, turned around and exerted the High King's right to not be ceremonial, and redesigned and remodeled the entirety of Tirion, and much of the surrounding infrastructure.

The people elected Arafinwë again after that.

[To be clear, Fingolfin is also around, and probably elected High King once or twice...as a vacation from his usual job, which is whatever title is given, by appointment or election, to the person who is actually doing politics and managing the function of the government. Every couple millennia when they invert the political structure to see what happens and Fingolfin has to win his way to the top again, it's like a pumpkin full of red meat thrown into his enclosure. His chief competition in this is Satarissë, second-youngest daughter of Finrod and Amarië, who ruthlessly leverages her unprecedented levels of Everyone's Favorite Baby Princess power for political advantage.

Every formal governmental structure includes unwritten assumptions about norms, and the Noldor's generally center around an assumption that Fingolfin will be in the upper echelon of management while Arafinwë is the safety net of common sense (eg, "Doom means Doom", "killing is always bad", "only try to 1v1 a Vala when you have immediate backup.") When Fëanor is one day returned from Mandos, people are going to SCRAMBLE to codify those unwritten rules before he breaks them all (again).]

...So, everyone knows the Ringbearers are coming soon, that Galadriel is coming home at last and Elrond is coming home for the first time and also little mortals called hobbits are coming, hobbits who defeated Sauron, which everyone is ??!!?!!! over. And either the timing works out to have an election or they decide to throw out the usual schedule, and the debate is: who do we honor first, Galadriel or Elrond?! Galadriel, our long-lost princess, ever-bold and much favored among the Sindar and Silvan with whom she made her home; we must welcome her! Elrond, heir to so much, host to so many, eagerly awaited by so many he has lost or never got the chance to meet; we must welcome him! Ooh, or what about the hobbits, I mean, they [one of them??] actually defeated Sauron, surely that's worthy of a crown...

The eager, excited debates start the second Barad-Dur hits the ground and the wise and foresightful see a change in the world, confirmed when Círdan sends word ahead [someone sailing earlier? A message in a bottle carried by Ossë?]

Then Findis, daughter of Finwë and Indis, publishes her most recent philosophical dialogue with the Powers of the World. Like many before, it is an account of a recent conversation [eg, yesterday] with Mandos on matters of Fate, Justice, the roles of Elves, Ainur, and stranger things in the Great Music...punishment and pity, forgiveness and forbearance... It concludes, though Mandos entreats her to stop, with her declaration that she is done waiting for a resolution that will never come, she is done tolerating a sentence that is already twice as long as Manwë gave his brother, without opportunity for repentance and reformation; a new Age of peace is dawning and she is willing to risk a little danger in it - so if Mandos doesn't release her half-brother and nephews in the next 100 years, she will find a way to cast her own fëa into utter dissolution in the Void; let not just Mandos but Manwë and Varda hear her words, and Eru hold her to them!

...And before anyone has fully processed that, Elrond, Galadriel, and the hobbits arrive, and on the boat with them, they've brought Maglor. Some people, knowing Elrond either in his youth in the War of Wrath or in his wisdom in later days, aren't surprised that Elrond did this, but Galadriel?!

In the ensuing confusion, the Younger Mr. Baggins election campaign slips through to victory, to the surprise of all and to Frodo's tired and frankly embarrassed dismay. Someone reassures him that it's just ceremonial, except for the authority to declare war, and he just needs to officially "re-appoint" Fingolfin to do the actual governing. This reassures Frodo very little.)

(A few hundred years later, some people are like, "hey, you know, Celebrimbor has been managing his terrible older relatives really well, and obviously his Rings came in CLUTCH for the whole Third Age. We should totally elect him--" To which Celebrimbor says, "oh Lord to Whom All Birds are Sacred, please NO, do NOT do that." To which his supporters says, "alright, let's get Huan elected as an honorable stand-in" and they almost, almost pull it off, but lose out in the end because their candidate a) isn't very good at giving speeches, and b) already has a full-time job being hunting partner/parole officer for Celegorm specifically, but probably he keeps an eye on all the whole Oath-bound family.)

#aman ever after #the silmarillion #samwise gamgee #lotr #feanor and feanor's kin #ficlet

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serpent-of-hope · 1 year

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A Defense of Frodo - The Curse of Invisible Illnesses

SPOILER WARNING: Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Two Towers, and Return of the King books and extended edition films.

Fandoms can be divisive communities, but the one thing every LOTR fan will near universally agree on is the Samwise Gamgee is heroic. When it comes to Frodo Baggins, however, modern opinions can get a little mixed. So today, I want to offer a defense of Frodo, if you will. Or perhaps more accurately, I want to offer a possible reading of the characterization of Frodo, and of the one ring, from the perspective of lived experience with PTS, mental illness, and other invisible, chronic conditions.

First and foremost, I want to acknowledge that, as I understand it, the characters of Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee were informed by Tolkein's own experiences fighting in the First World War. Tolkien ranked highly within the military as a direct result of noble standing in Britain, despite the fact that, by his own admission, many of his less-wealthy compatriots were equally or more competent or qualified than he was. Tolkien wanted to portray this dynamic in the relationship between Samwise, the gardener, and Frodo, who is given the title of Ring Bearer because of his family ties.

I also want to start by noting that I firmly do not believe that Tolkien intended to use the ring as an allegory for mental health. It is quite clear that the ring represents power and its ability to corrupt those who wield it. No one desires a mental illness, nor would most consider such a malady precious to them, nor would anyone kill to gain a mental illness. Instead, I am comparing what it means to be a ring bearer to carrying a burden no one else can see or feel, but that you struggle with and feel incapacitated by nonetheless.

I would also like to preface that the parallels I will draw here are based solely on my own experiences with chronic depression. I do not presume to speak for all people struggling with mental illness as everyone experiences symptoms differently. I also know that many other invisible illnesses follow the same trends.

Specifically, for our conversation today, I want to focus on the themes of darkness, weight, and numbness. For me, depression manifests as something physically weighing me down, too heavy for me to lift. So, when it comes time for me to complete simple, vital tasks - basic hygiene, getting, water or food, change clothes, or even the herculean task of leaving the house, I can't. Because the world itself is too heavy, and I'm not strong enough to lift it off me, and begin to feel drained quickly when I do. This weight, for me, is coupled with a sense of numbness. Whatever the world is asking of me - emails, my job, replying to my friends, brushing my hair - it is too much, and I stop feeling able to care if it gets done or if there are consequences. In counterpart to this numbness comes the side effect of rumination. Brains that aren't healthy like to dwell and circle around problems of their own creation. Often this means wallowing in feelings of shame and guilt, though it can sometimes manifest as resentment to the world and to others. What is comfortable, and brings relief, is darkness and the ability to lie down and succumb to it. To pull the shutters tight against the sun and the outside world, to stay in bed, and to try and sleep to escape the refrain of "you are bad, the world is bad, everything is bad." Then, of course, there is the sadness, the trademark of depression. Less sadness, per se, but the feeling that you will never be happy again, that everything is lost and hopeless. That you'd be better to give up.

We know that Frodo struggles with feelings of grief and pain from the Morgul wound he sustains on Weathertop, as well as from the stress of the journey and the loss of members of the Fellowship. These feelings all compound Frodo's struggles with the Ring.

Tolkein frequently refers to the ring and Frodo's responsibility as Ring Bearer as a "burden." It is called a burden at multiple points by multiple characters, usually when Frodo wishes the ring was not something he had to bear or when other characters are pitying his responsibility. This wording is deliberate. The other characters do not and cannot understand what Frodo is going through, but they know it is something terrible that they would never wish to experience. They know that it means Frodo needs help and extra care. Mental, invisible, and chronic illness can also readily be described as a burden. One that no one else can take, that they may not understand, but that they want to help and support nonetheless.

In the films, because we are not privy to the inner struggles of Frodo's mind, this burden is communicated to us through one key image: weight. In Peter Jackson's take on Fellowship of the Ring, we see the ring given a physicality to its presence. When Bilbo finally has the courage to let go of the ring and leave it with Gandalf, he drops it to the ground. The ring doesn't bounce or tink when it falls; it lands flat with a heavy thud. When Frodo wears it around his neck, we see the angry, raw marks where the ring has been pulling him down and chafing at him. In trying to give a physical form to an invisible burden, the creators gave it weight, something that is common in my, and many others’ experience of Depression.

The ring plagues Frodo. He cannot sleep. He cannot eat. He becomes despondent. When Frodo gazes into the Mirror of Galadriel, we learn that he has been ruminating. He sees in his mind's eye his failure, the burning of the Shire, the destruction of Middle Earth, and the Death of his friends. He is spiralling around negative thoughts that convince him of his failure. These are all symptoms of Depression, and it takes a great deal of strength and energy to keep going when you are fighting your own mind and your own conviction of failure.

Please consider this quote from The Return of the King:

“No taste of food, no feel of water, no sound of wind, no memory of tree or grass or flower, no image of moon or star are left to me. I am naked in the dark, Sam, and there is no veil between me and the wheel of fire. I begin to see it even with my waking eyes, and all else fades.”

―J.R.R. Tolkien,The Return of the King

A common side effect of mental, invisible, and chronic illnesses is that once you live with them for long enough, they become comfortable, and it becomes difficult to remember what life was like before. For my experience with Depression, at the very worst of it was a sense of hopelessness that made it impossible to remember what it was like to be happy, what it felt like to do the things you love, or even what the things you love are anymore. This feeling is reflected exactly in Frodo's sentiment of being naked in the dark while all else fades.

In response to this burden, Frodo resolves to break from the Fellowship. He wants to protect them from what is to come and himself from the harm they may do him. This, too, is a common experience of mental illness. Self-isolation is the desire to lock down and stop connecting with people. It happens for many reasons, but the main ones are a desire for self-protection from the emotional harm others may do us or to protect others from seeing our own rapid decline, believing that pushing them away will keep them safer and happier in the long run. But like many who have had these experiences, Frodo learns that he cannot do this alone. He needs help.

This is where Samwise comes in. Soft, supportive Samwise Gamgee. Samwise is aware that Frodo needs support to make it to Mordor, but I firmly believe that Samwise alone could not have carried the ring any better than Frodo could. The task of fighting an invisible and unrelenting force in one's own mind is utterly different than fighting Orcs or Men or Gollum. One just looks more heroic because it is more obvious and more cinematic.

Let's look at one of Samwise Gamgee's most heroic moments - the moment he lifts Frodo and carries him up the side of Mount Doom. In my life, my loved ones have on numerous occasions expressed that they wished there was something they could do or say that would make it better. That there was a magic ShamWow that could suck the sadness away. But there isn't. When we see Samwise scoop up Frodo in this scene it is easy to scoff at Frodo, to say, “How weak is he! He can't even climb a mountain, but this guy can do it while carrying him and the ring!”

But understand this: the weight of the ring is known only to the bearer, and to the bearer, it is insurmountable. The strength of Sam to physically lift his friend, while heroic in every right, is incomparable to the strength required to carry an inner burden, whether that be the weight of mental and invisible illness or the weight of the evil power of a dark lord.

There is one last quote I would like to draw your attention to:

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand...there is no going back. There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold.”

―JRR Tolkien

As with any chronic, mental, or invisible illness, there is an after. There is a point where the worst of the burden has subsided, and you can begin to find a semblance of normalcy again. But that after is not a return to the normal of before. It is a period where the old version of your self-identity has died, and you are left to cobble together a new existence, one that is not the same, but still good, and forever touched by this pain and grief. This is something we see clearly in Frodo's story. He doesn't get to return to the Shire and resume his own life. He returns changed with new outlooks, new understanding, and new pain. He gets a happy ending, but not the one he would have wanted for himself at the outset of the story.

It is easy to proclaim that Frodo is weak. Compared to our other heroes, he constantly needs help, he has a negligible kill count, and in the end, it is only through intervention that he accomplishes his task. But Frodo is nevertheless strong and brave. It is just that his struggles are neither cinematic nor the kind we have come to expect from our heroes. His fight is quiet and invisible.

So when we take this understanding and empathy and reflect on our day to day world, I want to call attention to those carrying the burden of mental, invisible, and chronic illness. Their stories never end with tossing their illness into a volcano and then saving the world. In fact, they are largely ignored and forgotten. But, as Tolkien has written, "deeds will not be less valuable because they are unpraised." These are courageous and heroic stories. It takes strength to go on every day while fighting an invisible evil force. Somedays, we don't win. But the strength and courage to try and keep trying is worth celebrating.

#lotr #the lord of the rings #lotr fandom #frodo #frodo baggins #samwise the brave #samwise gamgee #samwise #the fellowship of the ring #the two towers #the return of the king #mental illness #depression #chronic illness #invisible illness #lord of the rings

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wulfrann · 9 months

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10 Fandom, 10 Characters, 10 People

Thanks @moondal514 for the tag!

Rules: name 10 of your favourite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people to do the same

This is an impossible task so I'm filling this up with how I'm feeling right now, impulsively, without thinking about it too hard. Ask me tomorrow it would be different. Also the order is arbitrary and means nothing.

1) Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist

THEE original gender envy. The boy. I thought I wanted to be with him when really I wanted to be him. and kiss Winry. Manga of all time. What else is there to say.

2) Ellana from the Ewilan & Marchombres Series by Pierre Bottero

She's the best Marchombre that ever was. She writes poetry. She's hot. She has claws. She is my childhood hero and role model. She is the best Bottero character ever. I am in love with her.

3) The Biologist from The Southern Reach by Jeff VanderMeer

I don't know her name and I don't care. If the first tome wasn't from her perspective I probably wouldn't have been so invested. I would never want to fix her because whatever's wrong with her is way more interesting. I wanna go look at tide pools with her even though she'd hate that because she'd much rather be alone.

4) Joy Wang from Everything Everywhere All At Once

Honestly choosing just one character from this movie is impossible, but Joy telling her mother that she's just tired is Top 10 moments of cinema that made me burst into tears. Also: she's gay. Also: she's depressed. Also: what a fucking icon. Also: her costumes.

5) Dean Winchester from Supernatural

Choosing between him and Castiel is fucking impossible but I had to follow my heart of hearts and if I had to choose I knew I had to make this choice. It is very cringe of me to shun THEE gay angel like this and I am very ashamed of myself but he would agree with me, so. I had to. Dean is simply too deeply unwell in such specific ways that I cannot resist the brain worms. Although, without destiel? He would be nothing to me.

6) Captain K.P. Hobb from Dimension 20: A Court of Fey and Flowers

Tragic furry goblin man. His pathetic devotion to a court and its values in spite of their being drastically at odds with his honorable and rigid nature has bewitched me.

7) Fi Carmichael from Planetes by Makoto Yukimura

Everytime I re-read the arc that's centered on her and her family I sob like a little kid. Also she almost died to prevent a terrorist attack just because she wanted to smoke a cigarette.

8) Cliopher Mdang from the Lays of the Hearth-Fire by Victoria Goddard

Kip my best friend Kip. He invited the Sun on Earth, God-emperor of the world, to take a vacation, and it changed the fucking world. Number one most epic secretary ever. He has 50-something cousins. I want to be invited to one meal with him so bad, I just wanna talk to him like for 5 minutes, I know he's the busiest man in the Empire and also he's not real but like. Pretty please.

9) Sam Gamgee from the Lord of the Rings

THEE holder of hope for the whole trilogy. He's in gay love with Frodo and he can't carry the ring but he can carry him. I wish to kiss his forehead.

10) Andrew Minyard from All for the Game by Nora Sakavic

It's really hard to pick one character from this insane series but I mean. I had to.

Tagging: @aoquesth @lackluster-violet @poetic-ivy @planavarium @polzkadotz @newbornmoon @svnroom @cupcakedyke @herobrineawakening @makebelieveanything

#again this order is simply the order in which i thought of these #this was. so hard.#so many good stories i didn't pick a character from bc i simply could not #i'm sure in like two days i will think of some blorbo and regret not including them. but alas.#it's been so long since i actually answered to a tagged post like this! this one was really fun thx moonie <3

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newberyandchai · 6 months

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The Girl Who Drank the Moon (2017)

I have quite a backlog of books to catch up on, so let's get the ones I didn't particularly care for out of the way. (I know; it's surprising me, too.)

The Girl Who Drank the Moon redeemed itself in the end, but as someone who doesn't consume much fantasy, this book suffered from some dialog problems I couldn't get past. Like the perfect hair day with one strand out of place, or the most beautiful painting with one barely noticeable smudge in the corner... as disappointed as I am to admit, what I brought to this reading experience hindered my own enjoyment of the story until the last third or quarter of the book.

A brief plot summary: A town at the edge of a forest "sacrifices" a baby every year to a witch. However, the witch in question has no idea why the townspeople leave a baby in the woods every year at the same time, so she takes the children and delivers them to other towns past the forest so they can be raised in loving families.

In the process of traveling with one particular baby, the witch accidentally feeds her pure moonlight, which gives her uncontrollable magical powers. The witch raises the girl herself and locks away her magic so she can't accidentally hurt anyone, but the girl's magic slowly reveals itself in confusing ways as she approaches her 13th birthday (hello, puberty metaphor!).

Eventually some of the townsfolk discover the reason behind the child sacrifices and learn they're being manipulated by the upper class. Without spoiling anything, a character called the Sorrow Eater is shown over time to be the true villain by maintaining and feeding off the townsfolk's constant despair. In the end, the girl is reunited with her real family, comes into her magical powers, and says goodbye to people (and creatures) she loves to begin a new life.

It's important to note that I read a book by this author a few years ago that I also felt lukewarm about. The best way to describe the author's writing style is fairytale-esque:

“Once upon a time, something terrifying lived in the woods. Or perhaps the woods were terrifying. Or perhaps the whole world is poisoned with wickedness and lies, and it's best to learn that now."

But the main literary sin is — in my unprofessional, unwarranted opinion — the unnatural dialog, namely (pardon the pun) the repetition of character names and terms of endearment.

"Yes, child."

"Hush, boy!"

"I didn’t mean to, darling."

"You will surely forget, Xan."

"Where are we running, uncle?"

"You don't despise anyone, Fyrian."

I've found that fantasy novels tend to do this frequently out of necessity just to remind the audience of everyone's complicated names. In this case, it just feels like shoving in exposition where it isn't needed. Hear me out: repeating a character's name can be an endearing quality that makes them memorable, like Sam Gamgee's "Mr. Frodo," but when done poorly, it's distracting and breaks the reader's immersion.

(Bad movies do a better job of showing how unnatural exposition in dialog can be, I think.)

With that complaint out of the way, I enjoyed how all of the characters' story arcs were brought together in the end and tied in with one another. Everyone's fate was connected, and I felt a strong sense of love at the end that made the path to getting there feel mostly worth it.

I think this is a book I would have loved maybe 20 years ago in 3rd or 4th grade (has it really been that long?), but for now, let's go with a 6/10 and a tentative Recommendable rating.

#the girl who drank the moon #newberymedal #newberyaward #newbery #currently reading #booklr #books #reading #books and reading

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crimsun-n-clover · 1 year

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psychiatrist gave me a new sleep aim to ward off the batshit violent nightmares of everyone i love dying

thanks i guess

i went out of town with my mom today. drove a little over an hour to a major city to walk around the shops and little gimmicky places. got some dnd shit from a nerd store while mom stared at the miniatures with apprehension (“stevie do you really need these” “yeah they go on the board and are good for battles” “you said yourself that your players suck” “okay MAYBE it’s for me”). didn’t buy any of the fancy dice sets i wanted or anything. i showed the restraint of a goddamn nun. i did get more tacky biker rings though so i guess it balances out.

fell in love with a stray cat there. named him judas because i was listening to judas priest. i miss him.

i spent the rest of the day listening to the fellowship of the ring as an audiobook. i love sam gamgee so fuckin much. “mr frodo sir this fucking sucks can we get drunk” “oh my lovely and faithful sam. no. i wanna put my life at risk.” “shit alright i guess i’ll shield you from the scary ass horses or whatever” like sam and frodo are the epitome of “could you do it,,, for m e?”

sam is a fucking simp and i love him more than i love my own fucking family because they’re straight republicans and not hopelessly devoted homosexual gardeners. i’m a (formerly) hopelessly devoted homosexual and i wanted to be a botanist for a couple years there so i could be a gardener if i didn’t hate the sun so much. he’s just like me <3

“sam we can’t go in there that old bastard set his dogs on me thirty years ago” and pippen goes “nahhhh you’ll be fine :)” and my man sam is like “i’ll fucking kill him mr frodo i don’t care how long ago it was”

frodo is so fucking blorbo. he’s my special little guy. my babygirl. my sopping wet cat in the rain. my scrunkly scrimble doo. i want to wrap him in a nice cotton blanket and gnaw on it like a soft taco. i want to watch him spin around in a microwave. i want to shake him like a snow globe. i am so normal.

i swear i had actual shit to talk about. uhhhh

if i get asked one more time “did you MAKE your jacket” “do you even listen to those bands” or the ever irritating “name three songs” i’m gonna maul someone. like nah jennifer i walked into the punk and metal store and said make me look like a threat to humanity and also a total loser at the same time. like fucking OBVIOUSLY i made it. it’s a battle jacket. have you people ever met someone with an interest in music?? i didn’t give someone a list of bands and tell them to go ham and put shit on crooked. i sat on the floor until five in the goddamn morning with a bag of patches i picked up from my patch dealer (he’s in his 40’s at least and had to move back in with his parents. he has met every member of megadeth and talked to dio before he died. he’s so strange and he even gives me a discount for being so amusing he’s pretty rad) and stabbed my hands until they bled.

i know that’s something petty to get annoyed with but hey man, just because i’m not an old bald dude who goes “YEAHHH SLAYER” at every show doesn’t mean i’m not part of that community. it’s like because i’m feminine looking and young they assume i’m trying to be quirky and different or something. nah dude i’m just actually fucked up.

“your parents must have good taste in music little lady” my mom listens mainly to country, is an ed sheeran super fan, and thinks that those shitty motivational songs are her anthems for putting up with her autistic asshole child. my dad heard me listening to misfits and goes “this guy sounds JUST like danzig” and i was like “i know????” and we looked at each other for a minute before i had to explain to him that danzig was IN misfits. i also was stealing his cds and found FOUR FUCKING NICKELBACK ALBUMS. so nah man i’m just a fuckin freak. a complete oddity. a deviant of my bloodline.

i don’t know how to end this i’m getting woozy with my meds so farewell tumblr i shall see you past daybreak tomorrow

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samwys · 3 years

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still crying over how sam goes from being sam gamgee to being known as sam gardner because of his role in replanting the shire, & how his kids took on that surname too ,,,

#the gamgee family mean so much to me #goldilocks being the daughter of the mayor of the shire #and going on to marry faramir took who becomes thain of the shire ...#love how the gamgees bagginses tooks r just . Connected #and brandybucks seeing as merry was named after ... merry

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carriereedwrites · 2 years

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HOW TO (NOT) START A BOOK

Listen... this shouldn't be hard, people. But, starting a book really is one of THE hardest things to do.

The thought is daunting, the process overwhelming. The whole thing is enough to make giving up seem like the easiest route.

But, did Frodo give up on his journey to take the One Ring back to Mordor?

NO. BECAUSE HE HAD A SAMWISE GAMGEE. LET ME BE YOUR SAMWISE GAMGEE.

So, I figured it'd be easier to start with the naughty no-nos. One, because it's funny (and I think I'm pretty funny). Two, because you need to know what's incorrect before you can value what IS correct. Let's get started.

Warning: this is gonna be a rant. You've been warned.

Stare at your blank page and freak out

We've all been here. Anxiety creeps in and your Imposter Syndrome whispers in that creepy voice, "Yoooouu suuuckk baaallllsss." Tell that mother fucker IT SUCKS BALLS.

Don't freak out. Don't show weakness. Show that fucking blank page or word document who the hell is in charge around here. Write, damn it!

Who cares if it sucks? It's your first draft. IT'S GOING TO SUCK.

Get stuck world building for four years and have yet to write a single sentence

I get it. I'm guilty of this, too. You have this SUUUPERR AWESOME UNIQUE world in your head that demands you put all of your creative effort in to and by Gandalf's Beard, YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO BRING IT TO LIIIFFEEE.

Reality Check: it shouldn't take you more than a few months to get everything down. Everything important, anyways. Unless you work a full time job, go to school or parent tiny demons from hell, world building shouldn't take you YEARS going on a DECADE.

Neither should writing books. I'm looking at you, Georgie Boy. #iykyk

Convince yourself that you haven't bought the right pen, notebook or found the right writing software to express yourself with

My secret shame. Oh, the shame. My super secret shame? I still convince myself of this.

The only way to get around this is to just fucking do it and make do with what you got. It won't please your brain. It'll be angry, wrathful even, and badger you relentlessly like a Nazgul. But, you have to trick it in order to get to Bree-- I MEAN, in order to start your story.

*GASP* BUT, WHAT WILL MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS THINK OF ME IF I WRITE THIS?!

Listen, listen, listen... literally... this is what pen names (or Nom de Plumes, for you fancy writers) are for. You don't have to think of one right this moment. But, pressure off, guys. C'mon.

Also, as much as we would like our loved ones' support, they don't always "get" it, and think this is a hobby or passing fancy and not take it as seriously as you do.

What you should do is surround yourself with like-minded people or people who support you even if they don't "get" being a writer. It's those people who's unconditional love will get you through the hardest of times.

And my favorite: You will never be able to write like [insert revered author of all time here]

Shaddup. Just... shaddup. You will NEVER write like the authors you admire. That's. The. Fucking. Point.

YOU are YOU. Your responsibility as an artist is to breathe new life into old hats. Or some obscure inspirational bullshit like that. Readers will love what you write because it's uniquely YOU. Readers appreciate fresh, new takes on the same old tropes.

And if you're trying to emulate a classic author like Ol' JRR, you can't. We may still enjoy his stories today, but he wrote in a different time with different genre expectations (as in... he literally pioneered the genre... like... it's kind of hard to do in today's world. Not impossible, mind you. Just really freaking hard).

And that's it. My list on how to not start a book. Sorry, this one was a little aggressive, but... ya'll need to get aggressive. Writers can be a sensitive bunch that often need a good kick in the behind to get past those nasty blocks.

What are your resons for not starting a book? What have I missed? What are some of the ways you've gotten past the first sentence? Let me know!

~ Happy Writing, Ya'll ~

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polarisbibliotheque · 3 years

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Vergil, Dante & Nero training their s/o (feat. Kyrie) - Nero Chapter

Pairing: Nero x Kyrie

Summary: For different reasons each, they realize they need to help training their s/o and making them battle ready - in Nero's case, a sudden attack at the orphanage led Kyrie to use Red Queen for the first time, making him decide to train her; "self-defense" means "safe" in his vocabulary

Word Count: Nero - 3.4k (I lost track while writing, that's why I cut it into individual chapters for each, do apologize T-T)

Author's Notes: Blame Vergil on this one. I'm trying to get through the Bloody Palace with him on DMC4 SE and the thought "Imagine how much he would've trained to pull this off - probably as much as I am right now to master going through all those demons". So now we have them training their respective s/os :)

I can't write Nero with someone other than Kyrie. Do know I'd love to see her in DMC 6 being all badass to protect her family - in the best Samwise Gamgee way

Age Restrictions: There's a lot of sparring, nothing we haven't seen on DMC, honestly. The only restriction is: there are too many words because I have a compulsive writing problem apparently :D

Dante and Vergil chapters are up with the same name + "Dante Chapter" and "Vergil Chapter", respectively.

Nero

Kyrie wasn’t one to worry about demons – not when Nero was always around.

She used to say he was her knight in shining armor, and she wasn’t lying. If anything went terribly wrong, she could count on Nero to protect her and the kids at the orphanage.

He also made sure to help her with anything she needed. Nico used to say Nero was like a faithful dog, following Kyrie around the house and the orphanage, asking if there was something he could do. He’d help make the beds, organize the kitchen, keep an eye in the kids, entertain them when needed, go grocery shopping… The options were endless, and he never said “no” to anything Kyrie asked.

She particularly enjoyed when Nero had to go to the market, though. Kyrie secretly thought it was terribly cute how he always got lost and eventually called her to ask about some items on the list. Nero was a disaster doing groceries, but he always came back with almost everything she asked – if he couldn’t locate something, he’d buy three other things to compensate.

That’s why they had so many cookies and cupcakes laying around the kitchen: it was his way of making her smile, knowing Kyrie had a weak spot for cute, sugary foods.

It was one of those days. She had asked him to buy a couple things in the market so she could cook lunch – Kyrie was already at it and the children, and Nico, were getting hungry. When Nero got back home with the missing ingredients, she could quickly wrap it up and they’d have a nice Friday lunch.

“Demon boy is taking his time today, huh?” Nico leaned on the kitchen counter, watching as Kyrie cut some tomatoes for the salad.

“Oh, he always takes a little time.” She had a giggle on her voice, always so calm and in a good mood. Nico couldn’t refrain from smiling every time she was around Kyrie – she understood why Nero always called his girlfriend a ‘sweet angel’. “I bet he doesn’t want to call me today. He wants to do it on his own.”

“Well, he could call you, that air head. I’ll starve to death if he keeps at this pace!” She slumped overdramatically, making Kyrie laugh. Nico was indeed the best kind of sister relationship Nero could have, even better than she was. Kyrie and Nero never really considered each other siblings.

“Go watch the children, Nico. Take this, you can snack on it while he isn’t back.” Kyrie cleaned her hands on her half apron she sewed herself, giving Nico a plate with chopped cucumbers.

“Oh, the kids are gonna love it.” Nico’s face, though, made obvious the sarcasm that already dripped from her voice. Kyrie could only laugh even more.

“It’s better than getting stuffed with chips like you and Nero on that van!” She quipped back as Nico dragged herself to the garden – where they always had lunch on Fridays.

“At least it’s tasty!” The woman sighed, staring at the chopped cucumbers. “Well, this is better than nothin’.” Nico muttered to herself, not really being able to complain – she knew Kyrie was taking care of them all. And also… Cucumbers as snacks weren’t really that bad.

As she put the plate on the big, wooden table, Nico was about to call the children to eat. They were happily playing around – it was incredible how Kyrie was able to make them so well behaved while still having fun. Nico was sure Kyrie and Nero would be incredible parents when that stupid devil hunter finally decided to ask his girlfriend to marry him.

Suddenly, she felt something was off. The kind of something Nico would feel while driving Nero around during a job. It all happened too fast and the next thing she saw was a portal, with a couple demons materializing on the garden.

“Children! Run! NOW!” Nico ran to the ones who were closer to the portal. Taking one of the children in her arms, she pointed the way to the others, staying back so they wouldn’t get hit if they couldn’t shelter before those things arrived. “To the house! C’mon! Put those legs to work!”

“What’s going on…?” Kyrie heard the screams and ran to the garden door, seeing those demons already chasing Nico and the kids.

“Kyrie! Get inside!” She screamed, still holding the little kid tight against her.

Kyrie did run back inside. But, as Nico thought she wouldn’t be able to reach the house without being hit, she saw Kyrie was back, dragging the Red Queen with both hands.

“Out of the way, Nico! Take shelter!” She never saw Kyrie as angry as she was in that moment. Nico did exactly what the woman commanded – she had to admit seeing Kyrie wielding Nero’s sword like that was a little scary.

As Nico took shelter, Kyrie took courageous steps towards the demons, revving up the Red Queen a few times as she had watched Nero doing sometimes. Kyrie wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but she had the help of adrenaline to put enough strength on her arms to slice the first demon in two – leaving a trail of flames in the air while the other two fell back, taken by surprise.

The tip of the Red Queen rested on the floor, while Kyrie held its grip with both of her hands. It was difficult, but she would do whatever she needed to protect her family. As another demon decided to attack, Kyrie raised the sword once more, trying two more sloppy attacks – as much as her arms could take. The Red Queen was heavy, and she wasn’t used to the weight of a blade.

After killing the second demon, the third one charged. Kyrie was already tired and didn’t know if she’d have the strength to fight it back, but suddenly she felt another set of hands gripping hers – and the well-known presence of Nero embracing her from behind.

“Thought you had this, huh?” He talked to the demon, as he always did. Nero used Kyrie’s hand to rev up the Red Queen one more time. “Well, I got a little somethin’ for ya!”

It was the first time he fought with Kyrie in his arms like that – and she made sure to help him out, lending the strength she had, even if Kyrie knew it wasn’t that much compared to his. She wanted to do something.

The demon died in a cloud of flames and blood, something too easy for Nero. As he took the Red Queen in his hands, Nero circled Kyrie, to look at her in the eyes. He was worried she’d be hurt, but she had a smile in her face. And that he couldn’t understand. Maybe the demons made her temporarily insane…?

“Are you ok, babe? Did you get hurt? I’m sorry for takin so long…”

“It’s ok. I’m fine, Nero.” She touched his face, the only way to make Nero stop blabbering and focus on her, dropping his desperation for a moment. “Thank you for helping us.”

“Thank me?! Did you see the work you did?” He beamed brightly at her, putting the Red Queen away on his back. Nero was smiling, yes, but his heart was almost running in circles with worry. “You killed two demons! That was great! So dangerous, but great! How did you…”

“Hey, blockhead! Why did you take so long?!” Nico emerged from the house, looking like she had almost turn to jelly during those attacks. “Why’s it so difficult for you to buy some food?! We almost died here!”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen?” He pointed at what was left of the first demon, killed by Kyrie. “I’m a hunter, not a fortune teller!”

“Well, you’re the only one who knows how to hunt those things around here! Also, we’re almost dying of starvation! What’s worth being so fast as a devil hunter, huh?!”

“Hey, you…!” Nero huffed, already hot headed. Kyrie was trying not to laugh at those two antics. They complained about Vergil and Dante arguing all the time, but they weren’t too far behind. “You know what? I’m dealin’ with you later. And you Kyrie…” He turned at her, taking his girlfriend by surprise. She just smiled back, raising her eyebrows, waiting for what he’d say. She wasn’t even on their discussion to begin with. “I’m trainin’ you. Can’t have you waving Red Queen around without knowing what’cha doin’. Nico! You’re building her a gun!”

“What?” Both of them asked at the same time, but with different expressions. As Kyrie was confused at how he got to that conclusion of the matter, Nico was over the moon. She always wanted to build Kyrie a gun and now she’d have the chance to do so.

That’s how their trainings started. Nero would call Kyrie to the garage so they could practice everything she’d need to know to defend herself or other people – mainly the children. She asked him if it was really necessary and they had a long talk about it, but Kyrie understood his motivation after a while and agreed to it.

Nero didn’t want her to fight or hunt with him, he just wanted Kyrie to be safe – and ‘self-defense’ meant ‘safe’ in his world.

“Nero…?” Kyrie’s head appeared through the door of the garage, searching for her boyfriend so they could start training that day. They had been practicing shooting with the gun Nico crafted for her: similar to Blue Rose, it was brighter in its silver, and it had masterful drawings of red roses and golden vines. Nico thought it was a genius idea call it Red Rose. “Are you in here?”

And yes, Nero was. But he had his headphones on while fixing the Devil May Cry van. Kyrie entered the garage silently, careful not to draw his attention. Nero didn’t usually get distracted – he had a point on being always 100% aware of everything, even when sleeping. It was nice to see him carefree for a while. She sat by one of the crates at the garage and kept on observing him.

Kyrie considered herself lucky. Nero was such a good person, beautiful on the inside and outside. He didn’t believe in that, constantly wanting to prove himself worthy of respect, so she made a point of regularly stating how much she thought he was perfect. Kyrie rested her head on one of her hands, watching as he got carried away with his music, singing in a raspy but tuned voice. Nero wasn’t wearing any of his coats that day, his white t-shirt allowing her to watch how his hands masterfully worked on the van while stopping to beat the rhythm of the song on it with his tools from time to time. That always made her smile.

“Oh, Kyrie! Hey!” Nero finally noticed she was there, taking off his headphones and putting his tools down. “How long have you been there, babe? You could’ve called me!”

“I did, but you were too carried away.” She smiled back, approaching him. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Well, you never bother me. You got your gun with you?”

“Yes! I have to say, I think my aim has improved this week!” Kyrie got more excited about that than she originally thought she would. One day, while she was cooking, Kyrie was able to throw some things in the trash without even looking at it – she counted it as a big win. “And the Red Rose is easy to handle. Nico did a wonderful job.”

“Yeah, that she did…” Nero’s answer was a little absent minded while watching Kyrie’s hands handling her gun. He never thought he’d be so touched by her having a gun that matched his, but there he was. Such a lover boy. “Hmmm, I have another thing to show you! I asked Nico to craft something else for you!”

“Another gun? Nero…!” Kyrie wasn’t sure about that. Learning how to shoot was ok for her, but she was certain the life of a devil hunter wasn’t for her. She could take care of the orphanage, work with music and arts… But the art of killing demons, that was Nero’s occupation.

“Don’t worry! It’s not another gun, I’m not gonna turn you into a walking arsenal like Lady, babe. Trust me.” Nero winked at her, quickly pecking on Kyrie’s lips. She giggled a little, caught by surprise, while he disappeared in the back of the van. “I just… It’s good for you to have a sword! But the Red Queen is too heavy for you to handle it around, you might get hurt…! Now where did Nico… HÁ! Found it!”

After a few noises, Nero came back from the van, carrying a white and golden case, similar to the one he used to keep Red Queen.

“Nico delivered it to me yesterday. I think you’re gonna like it.” He offered her the case, making Kyrie hold it with a little more strength than she needed it. She was impressed to realize it was much lighter than Nero’s case.

Using a crate as support, Kyrie opened the case, finding a sword like Nero’s. Instead of the red details, though, this one was filled with golden filigrees, ornamented by sets of golden wings – a blade fit for an angel. It was a lot lighter than other swords and something on the blade made it glow in a faint tone of purple from time to time. On the blade, close to the hilt, Kyrie saw the word “Credo” engraved on it.

“I managed to find his sword in the remains of the Order.” Nero explained, as Kyrie took it from the case and admired the work. She had a lot to thank Nico. “I asked Nico to adapt it for you… Credo also had a shield, kinda purple like – I asked Nico to add it into your blade so it’d be stronger and protect you more. I hope you like it.”

“Nero…” She whispered, looking at him with eyes that were about to rain. That made his heart warm with care. “Thank you. So much.”

Kyrie would never complain about learning to fight with that sword. She could honor her brother and have a new point of view on the life of the man she loved. Kyrie would always think she had such good fortune – to have him and such a good life around her. It wasn’t perfect, but it was much better than what everyone expected them to live.

Nero was always so worried he wasn’t entirely human – but no demon would’ve done what he did. It was times like these Kyrie knew Nero was as human as it could get, and she was so proud of it. It made her heart sparkle to know all those people at the Order were wrong: at the end of the day, they were the demons, not Nero. He saved her – and he’d never stop caring for her. That was so beautifully human.

“Now I’d say it’s time for you to learn how to use it! What do you say?” He had a bright smile shinning on his lips, like a sunny Sunday day.

“I’m looking forward to it!” Kyrie walked to the center of the garage, playing with the sword in her hands. She didn’t know how to handle it properly, but she had watched Nero and Credo for too long to know a thing or two.

And Nero couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. He wondered how someone could look so adorable with weapons on their hands – but Kyrie would probably look adorable in any situation. At least, in Nero’s eyes.

“Well, first thing about swords, you don’t go wavin’ ‘em around like an umbrella.” As soon as Nero started, Kyrie was already laughing.

“Are you saying that because of Nico…?”

“There’s a long story there with her, Vergil and the Yamato. You don’t wanna know.” He winked back at her. “We gotta look at how you grip your sword. Show me.”

“Hmmm… I’ve always seen Credo holding it like this.”

“Looks pretty good! Your sword is kinda lightweight, so I’d say it’s better to hold it with some distance from the hilt. It’ll give ya more balance.” Nero approached her, carefully rearranging her fingers on the sword. “See? That way, when you swing it like this, for example…” And he guided a swift movement, just like he did in the day Kyrie used the Red Queen for the first time. “You’ll be able to control it better.”

“Hmmm.” Kyrie only nodded back, trying not to blush too much. When they were fighting that day, there was too much adrenaline on her body to notice how Nero was so close to her.

If all trainings were like that, Kyrie would be more than pleased. That thought made her smile.

“Somethin’ happened?” He suddenly asked, looking down at how his girlfriend tried to hold back a smile in his arms. Nero himself had a knowing smile on his lips – he never trained someone else but being able to practice with Kyrie like that was sort of a dream come true. “Why are you all smiley?”

“Nothing!” She answered too fast, which Nero knew always indicated Kyrie was lying. He was so ready to start teasing her, but she was quicker than him that day. “I was wondering when I should start screaming.”

“Huh?” And Nero was taking completely by surprise. He had no idea what she meant by that, his head pending to one side.

“You know, like you always do.” Kyrie nodded at him, looking back at Nero’s aquamarine’s eyes. They didn’t think about letting go of each other’s hands though. “Blast! Cut off! Scum! And my personal favorite, Slam dunk!”

Kyrie saw as Nero’s confident demeanor mixed with one of shame and despair. His face grew hotter, blushing like a red orb of crystalized demon blood. Nero didn’t know what to do with himself and Kyrie thought he was just adorable. She wanted to keep him forever in the safest of places, so no one could ever hurt him.

“That… Huh, that. Well, ya know…” Nero laughed with himself, being washed by awkwardness and self-consciousness. “It comes out when fightin’ demons, ya know… Not really… Well thought… Uhm… No one did it at the Order and… Well, it was…”

“Part of you. It was one of the things that made everyone at the Order boil in rage, because it seemed like something they put on so much effort to do, you did effortlessly. And even joked about it along the way.” Kyrie had the sweetest of smiles on her rosy lips, nothing but admiration in her hazel eyes. “I couldn’t really say it, but it was one of the things I always liked about you. Even though they wanted to fit you in a box, you always remained true to yourself. And I love you.”

Kyrie had turned to Nero and rested one of her hands on his chest, holding her sword with the other. Nero still had no idea what to do with himself or his hands, just standing there, feeling himself blush. He wasn’t used to praises and compliments – the only love he had was from Kyrie and only now he was getting used to living with her and a family, even if it was a found one. The Spardas had a lot to learn on love – and Kyrie would always be there to teach Nero.

“When ya speak like that, I don’t even know what to do, honey.” Nero tried to play it off, smiling awkwardly while scratching the back of his head, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as he felt they were. “I’m, well… Uhm… I love ya as well. So much.”

“I know. You prove that to me every day.” And Kyrie got on her toes so she could reach Nero’s mouth, taken aback by her sudden kiss.

It didn’t take him long to correspond, though. A few seconds feeling her lips, Nero wrapped his arms tightly around his little angel, taking her from the ground.

“Nero…!”

“Ya think ya can make me feel awkward with no consequences, huh?! You are so wrong!” And Nero started spinning around with her, making Kyrie drop her sword and hold his shoulders tightly, laughing as he started to shower her face and neck with thousands of kisses. “Next trainin’: try to leave this hug, lil’ lady! You’ll be stayin’ here the entire day!”

Kyrie would never complain about staying in Nero’s arms for the day – she could stay there for an eternity, as she could train with him forever. Because while Nero could teach her how to use weapons and protect herself, Kyrie would always teach him to see beauty in himself and accept the love he deserved.

#nero x kyrie #nerokiri #nero imagine #kyrie imagine #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc imagines #dmc fanfic #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry #nero sparda #dmc nero #last chapter #there are only three of them and I call it luck #'cause this already turned into a book :)#but they are too cute for me to be cheap on words

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milliethekitty27-writing · 3 years

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The Ladder

In a hole in the ground, there lived a lonely hobbit. It all started when Bilbo grew tired of his empty kitchen.

He hadn’t been fond of eating alone since the dwarves destroyed his pantry, but he hadn’t after Frodo joined him in Bag End. He’d eaten with the elves in Rivendell, which had been full of lovely music and pleasant conversation, and then he’d eaten with the elves, Frodo, and Gandalf when they’d traveled to the Undying Lands.

Now he was here, in Yavanna’s Garden, living in what was basically Bag End. (the actual Bag End was right next door for his parents) He had his beautiful garden back, which only mattered really because he’d been brought back to his youthful self with working hands. The house was always clean (and he’d never really liked cleaning, so that didn’t matter much to him) so he had all the time in the world to work on his maps and his stories. He got the occasional social call from neighbors or family. He ate dinner with his parents on Thursdays and went over to their home on Sundays for family nights with many cousins and aunts and uncles, but he spent the rest of his time alone. He got the same whispers he had in the Shire, but he was satisfied with his cooking and working in the garden. Except… on the days there were no social calls, no family dinners, Bilbo Baggins sat in a very quiet house and talked to nothing.

“You know-” Bilbo said to no one in particular as he weeded a particularly stubborn patch of grass out from underneath his rose bush. There was a basket of tomatoes ready to be made into a sauce, or maybe used the fish tonight, but he’d seen the weeds and wanted to deal with it before it spread. “-I would have expected the garden to take care of itself when I died. Not to be doing the same tasks as before. But here we are, fighting with weeds, aren’t we Tho-” Bilbo stopped, shook his head, and pushed that thought aside.

He made dinner for fourteen but only ate for one. The rest got put away for the multitudes of meals of the next day, but almost five years after he’d died he found himself looking at the empty table with a frown.

The next morning he perused his bookshelf until he found a collection of stories. From there, he found tales of the dwarves. He sat in his armchair until a collection of cousins knocked on the door and pulled him away, but he found what he was looking for when he was waiting for a peach pie to bake.

Dwarves belief that they return to the halls of Mahal upon their deaths. From there, they await the Final Battle. Upon the arrival of that day, they will be sent back to rebuild Arda, but until then the dwarves rest in their creator’s halls.

Bilbo hemmed over that. He wandered down to where most of the Tooks lived, asking if they had any maps or had heard of the Halls before. It was a bit of a long shot, and he wasn’t surprised when they all said no. He returned to his smial and examined his garden.

“Well-” he said to the same problematic patch of clover that refused to leave. “-I know that dwarves do like their underground tunnels and their mines. And if the Green Lady is married to the Smith, then it stands to reason that they might go underground nearby. I don’t think there’s any harm in looking, I’ll just get a bit dirty and ruin my garden, and I do that on the regular. Or I’ll fall into a great underground river and run back into Gollum.” Bilbo sighed, then went to see if he could borrow Hamfast’s good shovel.

There was a patch of yard in the back Bilbo had been planning on planting carrots in, but he had a better idea now. He wiggled his toes in the cool earth, nodded, and stretched out his shoulders. Then Bilbo Baggins put his shovel into the soil and started to dig.

It took quite a bit of time, but he didn’t get as tired as he had in his old age and he didn’t have to take as many breaks. Death might mean you didn’t have to eat, or sleep, but it was routine, and he had dinner with his parents that were tradition. One day, maybe, he’d be able to bring more than just himself and whatever his mother wanted him to bring for dessert, but he pushed the idea of muddy boots and braids out of his mind in favor of helping his mother finish up the roast.

“What are you doing, Bilbo?” his father asked during one dinner. “Gorbadoc says he hasn’t seen you at the Green Dragon in some time.”

“I’m digging a tunnel.” Bilbo said matter of factly. “I’m going to try to find the halls of Mahal.” His parents looked at each other for a minute.

“What for?”

“I… suppose it’s just because I can.”

“Have you considered asking the faunts?” Belladonna suggested as she took a second helping of mashed potatoes. “I’m sure they’d be more than thrilled to be asked to ruin a garden.” Bilbo considered that.

“I think this something I want to do myself.”

Bilbo digged and digged. The hole was big enough for him to stand in rather comfortably, though he had to dig some stair-like notches into the side so he could get in and out. It took almost a week of non-stop digging to reach literal rock bottom, and then he was left with a conundrum. He’d dented Hamfast’s good shovel, so he returned it with an apology and a promise to pay him back, but would Hamfast please lend him a good pickaxe?

Bilbo woke up that next morning with arms that were incredibly sore and demanded he take a day, if not more, off. He agreed. The dwarves had waited this long, they could wait a bit longer. Bilbo went to market, got a drink, avoided questions about what he was up to, dodged a few nosy grandparents, and returned home with arms full of goods. The next day he baked an apology pie for the Gamgees and sent his mother and father cookies, lounging for the rest of the afternoon with a good book. On the third day his arms didn’t yell at him for raising them above his head, so Bilbo hoisted his pickaxe.

“How’s your hole going?” Belladonna asked as she took out a tart to cool. It was nearly time for the harvest festivals. Hobbits loved to work in their fields and grow their goods, and that meant the harvest festivals of the Shire still went on. That meant competitions (his mother was entering a lovely pumpkin she’d been growing all year, while his father was entering in a poetry competition) and baking, canning for the winter, and family time.

“Rather well, I like to think!” Bilbo gave the bread he was kneading one last good push. “I think I’ve nearly reached it, the rocks started to change to the next type of rock underground that I read about in the book that Adamantius lent me last week. It’s supposed to mean you’ve gotten to the next layer or… something. The book was rather complicated. I suppose I’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Maybe you’ll have it fixed in time for the summer planting competitions.” His father brushed his hands off on an apron as he came in from the garden with a basket of potatoes, placing them on the counter and taking a moment to kiss Belladonna’s cheek. For a moment Bilbo wondered if soon he’d be seeing his dwarves, be able to kiss one particular cheek, but he pushed those thoughts aside. It was possible he was nowhere near being able to see his dwarves, but that was a thought he’d deal with when he came to it. He was nothing if not practical, as a Baggins (no, Baggins weren’t actually practical, he knew that now, but don’t bother telling the Baggins side that) and he didn’t want to consider that what if.

“Maybe.” he ceded. “But I’m hoping that I’ll be able to make it a permanent feature.”

Bilbo returned to his hole the day after the festivals had finally finished. His larder was filled to bursting, along with all his storage rooms, and he was just planning on doing a little bit of work before settling in with a nice book.

That plan fell a bit short, though. He drove his pickaxe in rather deeply and the earth suddenly crumbled all around him. Bilbo let out a yell as he fell through a suddenly rather large hole, landing with a rather sharp thwack on something… surprisingly soft.

When he looked around, he found that he was surrounded by an incredible amount of short, bearded people wearing multiple colors and gems.

Dwarves.

He looked up and found an incredible amount of sunlight falling on him, along with a decent amount of dirt.

It seemed he’d found the Halls of Mahal. Now the question was how to get back to Yavanna’s Gardens.

...he’d cross that road when he got to it. For now, he had dwarves to find, and, uh, oh dear. The dwarf he was sitting on didn’t look very happy. He jumped off of the poor dwarf’s back.

“I’m so terribly sorry-” Bilbo offered the dwarf a hand. They were covered in braids, with long black hair, and Bilbo tried to dust them off once they were up. “-I had no idea I’d almost broken through like that, I would’ve given some warning.”

“You’re what’s been making all that noise?” a dwarf behind him said. Bilbo turned on his heel. This dwarf was dressed like a miner.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The noise-” the dwarf gestured at the ceiling. “-for the past month, we’ve been getting this awful banging- that’s coming from you? But you’re a halfling!” There was a great deal of yelling at that as the crowd of dwarves surrounding Bilbo all realized what he was. Bilbo felt his cheeks heated up with rage.

“What do you mean a halfling fell through the ceiling?!” someone bellowed after several minutes where Bilbo couldn’t get his voice loud enough. There was a great deal of pushing through the crowd and Bilbo offered another apology to the poor dwarf he’d probably concussed in his fall.

“I’ll have you know I’m not half of anything!” He said loudly into the suddenly silent hall, but there was a further commotion.

“That’s not just a halfling that our halfling!” Bofur, that was Bofur, he knew that voice. A bald dwarf covered in tattoos practically rammed his way through the crowd and there were all his dwarves, looking alive and well and whole, no blood or funeral garb, no sorrowful letters or tearful tales from Frodo about bodies and ancient stone walls. He was hugging them, pinching cheeks and smiling as wide as he had in some time. He did a quick head count - twelve. Where was thirteen, where was-

Oh.

There he was.

Thorin was standing at the other end of the mass of dwarves in the hall, firelight glinting off the silver in his hair and around his neck. There was no sign of gold or bronze, just silver. He practically blended into the cave wall in his nearly black clothes but Bilbo met those beautiful blue eyes and something just clicked. He was covered in dirt, and in his gardening clothes. He looked a mess, he was sure of it, but Thorin was looking at him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Master Burglar.” Thorin’s voice rumbled across the nearly silent crowd.

A moment later he and Bilbo met in the center of the path, both having run as fast as their feet could carry them. Bilbo’s fingers curled into the thick, wiry hair and he inhaled the smell that was undeniably Thorin.

“I thought I told you to call me Bilbo.” he said in a thick voice after a moment. “Or should I be calling you your majesty?”

“No.” Thorin said instantly. He shook his head and Bilbo felt the gentle thuds as beads connected with his skull. “No. Never you.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Thorin didn’t have the wrinkles around his face anymore, the silver in his hair was less than it had been, but there was still that shadowed look in his eyes. Bilbo took a quick breath, then leaned up and kissed his cheek like his father kissed his mother’s, like he’d been thinking about for ages and ages.

“Hello.” he whispered. “Hello, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Hello, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.” Thorin’s face was flushed now, but he reached up and brushed his thumb along Bilbo’s jaw.

“That counts as a kiss!” someone bellowed. There was a loud thud and the dwarf, definitely Nori, yelped. “That hurt!”

“Bilbo can we get a boat through your hole?” Fili called. A moment later there was a thud and both Fili and Kili were there, smushing Bilbo into the center of a Durin family hug.

“A bo- what do you need a boat for?”

“I want to find Tauriel.” Kili sounded elated. “If you could get through, then she-”

“Boys, I have to get back up myself, I can’t just pull up a boat-”

“What about cheese?” Bofur piped up. Bilbo realized that the entire company had encircled him. He was surrounded in a mass of dwarves. Stinky, hugging-too-tight, wonderful dwarves that he’d missed. “Bombur’s been talking about that recipe you sent him-”

“He sent me dozens of recipes, you’ll have to be more specific-” Bombur started.

“I told you he could break in, I don’t know why you’re still not giving me money!” that was Nori again, directed at Balin.

“These are the Halls-” Balin began.

“Bullshit, this is Bilbo, he stole from a dragon! This is all in a day’s work for him!”

“Have you seen my Gimli up there?” That was Gloin. “You know, my beautiful laddy, with the curly red hair and the most beautiful eyes, I haven’t been able to find him and we haven’t heard anything about him in a long time for a while, I’m starting to get worried-”

“He just got here, Gloin, don’t start yelling about your kid again-” that was a voice he didn’t totally recognize but he saw Bifur without an axe and grinning widely as he spoke.

Bilbo looked back up at Thorin, who was smiling at him in a way that made him come into focus and drown everything else out.

“I’m glad to see you, Bilbo.”

“I’m glad to see you too.” Bilbo smiled back at him. His dwarf reached up as if to touch his face again, but faltered.

“We’ve… we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“We do.” Bilbo agreed. “Bu-”

“Bilbo?” Someone shouted down the hole. He recognized his mother after a moment. He struggled out of the throng of dwarves much like a whale breaching for air. There was a shadow over the patch of sunlight from above, bits of dirt trickling in.

“I’m fine!” he yelled back. “Be careful, it’s a pretty hard landing at the bottom, I don’t want you to slip!”

“Wait that’s the burglar?” someone in the crowd said. There was a loud shushing noise, a thwap, and an ow.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, Mum, I’m alright!”

“Wait is that your mother?!” Kili and Fili said together.

“Did you find your dwarves?”

“I’m going to regret this-” Bilbo sighed, then he pitched his voice back up high. “I fell but I’m alright, I just didn’t realize how far down I was!” He paused for a moment, then shouted back. “Do we still have the apple picking ladders?”

“I’m sure we can dig one up-” there was his father. Poor Bungo was probably tearing his hair out. “-are you hurt?”

“No, he’s not, he said he’s alright-” his mother’s voice was muffled. “-we’ll go check, darling, stay out of trouble!”

“Can you throw down some cheese?” Bofur shouted.

“Bofur!”

“Oh some apples would be lovely.” Dori sighed.

“And some apples!” Bofur yelled a bit louder.

“Just send down his whole larder!” Kili yelled. “And a boat! I need the hole to be big enough for a boat!”

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. This hole was comfortable, and warm, and cozy. It was also full of Bilbo Baggins’ things. This hobbit had lived a remarkable life and thus his home was quite remarkable in many ways, but the most intriguing bit about this hole was the larger hole in the backyard. It was surrounded by stones, with a lovely set of carved steps going up to the house. It led to a sturdy but worn wooden ladder that had been used for apple picking but now served to connect the Halls of Mahal to Gardens of Yavanna. This ladder fell in the center of a massive stone hall, which was filled with flowers that hobbits would come down to tend to. The two races regularly wandered through Bilbo Baggins’ garden to meet - dwarves would come up for market day bearing gifts and coins, eyeing steaming bread and crisp red apples, while some of the more adventurous hobbits would slide down the ladder to inquire about repairs for their tools.

For Bilbo, though, this hole meant so much more. It meant thirteen dwarves crashing into his house ridiculously early in the morning to nag him into making them breakfast. It meant having his family, blood and not, over for dinner. It meant listening to his mother talk with Dori and Balin about tea, to his father engage Fili and Ori into long tales of age-old tales. It eventually meant Kili tugging a tall, red-haired elf into Bag End no. 2, covered in water while a tired Fili collapsing into a chair complaining that Kili and Tauriel hadn’t stopped making doe-eyes at each other.

It meant that, after a long conversation with tears and laughter and shy touches, Bilbo made dinner with a dwarf that made him laugh as he stole pie filling and got flour on his nose and in his beard. It meant that Bilbo would come back to market to find someone frowning on his porch with little metal bits twisted in his lap as he worked on making ornaments for Bilbo’s garden. It meant that Bilbo Baggins woke up next to Thorin Oakenshield, one hand tangled in that beautiful dark hair. It meant that they sat on the bench under the oak tree and blew smoke rings into the setting sun, holding hands.

When Frodo Baggins finally entered Yavanna’s Gardens, he found his uncle beaming like he hadn’t in years, with a braid in his curls and a ring on his finger. There were thirteen dwarves in the living room, and Frodo was just in time for tea.

---

Thanks for reading!

This is based off of a post made by @wheeloffortune-design about Bilbo digging his way into Halls of Mahal, which has literally been living in my brain since I read it. (and @gallusrostromegalus put down some delightfully funny comments that also made my day) So… here we are. You can find the post here, assuming the link works!

The AO3 link is here!

man i love bagginshield.

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #the hobbit #bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #bilbo x thorin #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #my otp honestly #i started shipping this and never stopped

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annyankers · 2 years

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when comes to xander from my mind / xander (train’s version) there’s plenty of changes that are superficial like going hard on the burnout and adhd vibes, actor changes, ska etc but the core of it is just like... taking the concept that xander is the “heart” and running with it

my main variation that i used whenever possible is a xander who starts off like, exactly the same but after the events of the pack starts to get some kind of help. I’ve never liked how that episode or like, his whole family life is handled. and while yes when it comes to the pack there’s issues around his and buffy relationship after for me like, having snooped around a bit on xander debates sometimes people don’t realize/consider that xander is also a victim? something unwanted entered him, violated his free will and took over his body and mind and made him do or attempt unforgivable, traumatizing things.

even without the AR just eating a live pig would be enough to warrant therapy imo. i can understand xander trying to hide his memory of the events out of shame and fear but i can’t see him succeeding at it for long while still being buffy’s friend before he breaks down. then begins the “getting some kinda help for his shit from adults” even if it’s just the guidance counselor or giles, cause we know he’s not being taken to a therapist by his parents and i cannot imagine there wasn’t some kinda mandatory something after that for him and the other kids.

plenty of his teen fuck ups can and likely would still happen but the idea there is that he starts to examine himself, his behavior and his life in his sophomore year and makes rocky but continual progress. season 4 is when he really starts getting the ball rolling. mainly because of anya and having any money at all to seek professional help. how badly he fucked up with cordelia and his increasingly serious relationship with anya force him to do a lot of introspection and self-work. like when she’s upset over his killing vengeance demons comment that’s an “oh yeah I’M the jerk” moment for him.

i liked the idea of things like his talk with dawn in s7 about normalness/specialness and i like the idea of him as the heart of the gang. in this version by the time you get to s6-7 xander is the most stable of the bunch which is not saying much but it is something.

but it also means he’s carrying the entire friend group almost single-handedly on his back for 2 years. in s6 alone, buffy is in a depression spiral, willow is struggling with addiction and broken up with her gf which means tara is a 50/50 on being able to help him, he’s getting married, he’s got more responsibility at work and he’s helping to raise dawn. and that’s just off the top of my head! that’s a LOT. but he’s also the embodiment of buffy’s huge ass stupid heart so he just fucking saddles up and carries the team on his shoulders like he’s memelord samwise gamgee.

like he’s still a dumbass and he still fucks up-- like hell’s bells can still happen he’s fucking 21 and 2-3 years of therapy does not cure everything from life in an abusive household-- but i just... the xander i’m interested in and the xander i will engage with is the xander who looked at his drunk, abusive, toxic ass family and said “i’m never fucking becoming anything like that” with his WHOLE CHEST and MEANT IT. and put in the WORK on his own, with his partner and friends, and some professional help.

like i love the scene with tara and buffy in dead things in part bc we have so little content of them together but imagine buffy admitting to her relationship with spike, expecting xander to judge her since he has historically being vocally judgy and did NOT like angel (and probably still doesn’t lbr) but he’s just like “idk what to tell you buff, i’m marrying an ex-demon it’s a kinda pot-kettle situation”. like yes as her heart his conflicts are her conflicts in macro but like, what if we also let him be the show of how much love is in her? when buffy is closed off or depressed have xander show love and be kind. let some of the tension and conflict come from the fact buffy can’t accept self-love and show it via xander trying to do right by her and her pushing him away. like let xander actually be reasonably okay with her relationship with spike because it’s her life and her choices and trying to be supportive but buffy being unable to accept that.

like i just think xander is more fun and interesting when he’s allowed to be like.... nice.... like... let him be a silly little teddy bear. let him care bear stare these mother fuckers. yes still give him flaws but also allow him to grow and actually use his big stupid dumb heart more.

#meta #xander (train's version)#i dream of when i WON'T fucking write a novel when i meant to do 2-3 paras

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 3 years

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9. All About Bilbo from the POV of...Gandalf

I mean, you guys had to realize that “recruiting manager” would have to be the Grey Wizard. 😆

Reminder: The masterlist can be found here.

***

A wizard’s job was never easy. One never knew with absolute certainty if what they were doing was the right path. You could only do what you could, and hope for the best. That was how Gandalf felt as he traveled to meet with Thorin Oakenshield. He knew he could very easily be sending a fine dwarf and his followers to their death. However, it was what was best for Erebor, for the seven kingdoms of the dwarves, for Middle Earth. So he did what he could to urge the prince, now king, to take back his homeland without imparting too much of his plan.

Gandalf was usually accused of being secretive for the sake of mystery, and he enjoyed that reputation greatly. The honest truth was that most of his “schemes” as Saruman would put it were half-baked ideas and thoughts that seemed to come together in better clarity the closer they got to fruition. Did he know how to best the dragon? Not quite, but he was certain that would come to him the closer they got to the mountain. The only certainty he knew, was he would need a creature the dragon had no previous dealings with in order to peek the creature’s interest. A burglar, he told Thorin. A hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins was not Gandalf’s first choice in burglar material. To be fair though, the passage of time sometimes got away from the immortal and he was not aware he was old enough to be a choice. Gandalf’s first stop in the Shire had been to visit his old friend and Thain of the Shire, the Old Took. The wizard was saddened to learn from Fortinbras that Gerontius had passed along with many of his children who the wizard had considered: Isengrim, Hildigrim, Hildifons, even dear Belladonna. On the subject of his dear aunt and cousin, Fortinbras had quite a bit to say.

“Bilbo didn’t handle Belladonna’s death well, especially after having buried Bungo just eight years prior.” The Thain sighed. “He had become quite respectable having to take up the mantle of the Baggins name so early, but something about his mother’s death seemed to shake him. After the funeral, he didn’t have any family over! The Baggins were quite scandalized. Then Hobson Gamgee is taking care of the front garden when he notices a post on the front door. It read:

Went on a walking holiday, will return soon.

And wouldn’t you believe Gandalf! He was gone for five months. He didn’t even return with a bride! It was a hot topic of Shire gossip for a while. However, he’s done well to regain his respectability and most have deemed the Incident as a strain of grief-induced madness. Us down here in Tuckborough recognize it for what it was, a tribute to Belladonna. She always promised him an adventure before she died. We figure he must have felt his Took blood singing, and sought it out for himself.”

“An adventure you say.” Gandalf hummed as thoughts began to whirl in his head.

Fortinbras laughed as if guessing what his thoughts entailed. “I think you would have more luck with Sigismond. Bilbo Baggins is not about to go on another adventure.”

Gandalf still thought it was worth a visit to the Hill anyways. To see for himself if this Baggins really had the Took streak he needed. He was not disappointed either. Oh certainly the hobbit grumbled at the impropriety of the affair, but his eyes shined with the curiosity and eagerness he remembered the young lad having in abundance.

“It’s decided.” Gandalf declared having made his choice. “It’ll be good for you, and most amusing for me.”

Gandalf could see it now. A story that will circulate the Shire for many, many years to come. A wizard knocking on the door of a Baggins of all things with the promise of halls of gold and dragons. Most amusing indeed. After Gandalf carved the mark into Bilbo’s door and headed to the inn where he would meet most of the Company, he found himself filled with something rather odd. Courage. A type of courage not built by facing down fears, but rather protecting something worthy. Yes, this quest would be good for Bilbo, and the hobbit would be good for the Company. Of that, he no longer had any doubt.

#follower event #all about bilbo #bilbo baggins #gandalf #yes i'm still doing this #and i will finish damn it

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idjitlili · 3 years

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Oh no, all the hobbits Aragorn.

Aragorn x reader.

Request for Thatfoolishhuman 'I would love an Aragorn imagine! Could you do one where the Mc is a healer (like, she can make wounds disappear with her hands.) and she patches Aragorn up after a battle and he falls in love with how gentle she is.'

Summary: Imagine being apart of the fellowship, being Gandalf's niece , you learn some stuff from him whether he liked it or not. Basically following the fellowship in secret from Rivendell, until you slipped up.

A/n: Arwen and Aragorn aren't together in this imagine, he still grew up with Elrond. A pitch is a piggyback ride it's the original name for it. Totally didn’t make a meme for this

Word count:2253

Warnings: I'm British, so spelling for certain words differs, such as grey, colour, among other words, don't be mad please.

Growing up around a wizard, especially Gandalf the grey, you learnt a lot. He just left books laying around, books full of spells. Of course Gandalf wasn't really related to you, but he might as well have been. Your parents travelled a lot, so you ended up being around Gandalf most of your childhood.

Gandalf had taught you some basic spells, nothing major, healing spells mostly, children are clumsy. It was no secret your parents didn't like you running through the forests, saying it was too dangerous , general protectiveness, you guess. Many times they proved that they were right, many times you had fallen into traps left for animals. You would've probably bled out, if it wasn't for Gandalf.

Still living with your parents, no longer a child, not knowing what you wanted to do, you parents wanted you to go work in the local bakery, not wanting you to travel around like they did, dangerous times with black riders frequently on the road and such. But of course you didn't want a simple life.

Again your parents had left on business, this time you didn't go to Gandalf's house, you had maybe listened in, when going to visit Frodo , only to see Samwise Gamgee listening under the window. You know how it goes, Gandalf caught him, not you.

You ended up following Frodo, Sam , Merry and Pippin. Life is boring, might as well take a risk, you longed for adventure, like the mister Bilbo.

Surprisingly the elves had not even noticed you at Rivendell, actually not surprising Gandalf had brought you there many times, so they probably thought you were with him. You had waited in the trees outside Rivendell's gates, for them.

You hadn't know what was actually going on , or whether there would actually be a quest, but to your lucky there was. Not really lucky for Boromir though... soon enough Frodo and Gandalf had emerged along with 7 others.

You weren't noticed for a long time considering, Frodo's fault completely, when Frodo had fallen down the mountain in the snow, you had been hiding not so great in the snow, and of course Frodo landed facing you. While Aragorn had rushed back to Frodo, Frodo's face was laced with confusion as he stared at you.

"Y/n...?" Frodo had stood up, not realising he had dropped the ring, you rising with your backpack and coat one, with the snow littering your hair. Aragorn had just stared too moving towards Frodo, carefully, the others travelling down to see what was going on.

"Oh, Frodo! What are you doing here? I was just out to get some milk for my dinner." Standing calf deep in snow, freezing, yet your facing burning with embarrassment.

"I was wondering when you'd reveal yourself." Gandalf chuckling , of course he knew you were there, but what you didn't know was that Gollum had been not even three feet away from you.. Gandalf had turned back grabbing the ring from Boromir and launching it at Frodo, like he was Michael Jordan.

"Gandalf who is this?" Gimli of all of the fellowship had questioned you, he wasn't afraid to speak his mind.

"Y/n is my niece , now come along we don't have all day."

Thus, you were no longer a stalker , but part of the fellowship. Time had passed and you had lost your uncle, but it didn't feel right, you couldn't process his death, so you pretended he just slipped on some bread and was at home resting.

Soon enough you were all heading for Lothlórien, without realising it, you had stayed close to Legolas at this moment, mostly to bug him.

"If elves are so great, then how didn't you notice me? For all you know I could've been watching you pee, I wasn't but I could've been. While you was sleeping I could've chopped your hair off and made a wig. Why do you look like your are apart of a dance routine? Why do you float? How does it feel to have a dick for a father?" Rambling on , you are surprised that Legolas doesn't whoop you, he could've, you wouldn't have been able to do much, you aren't the best person at defence.

You couldn't tell if you was annoying Legolas or not, but Gimli had kept smirking your way, as he stomped through the forest.

"Hey, Legolas? "

"Yes, y/n?" Legolas had sighed , he much preferred Gimli antics.

"Can I have a pitch?" But he had just stared at you, frowning, huffing you had walking around Legolas so you was next to Aragorn. Only for your ankle to roll, making you fall into Aragorn, it didn't necessarily hurt but. Aragorn had grabbed you and placed you back onto your feet.

"Um, Aragorn? You know you much better that Legolas..? Can I have a pitch?" You were undoubtedly attracted Aragorn, come on, he looks like a God. Fuck Thor. He didn't even answer just knelt down, allowing you to grip around his neck, and grab your calf's. Carrying on walking with ease.

Raising your eyebrows and smirking at Legolas behind you, he just never showed any emotion, except in that scene with Haldir , where he just smirks creepily in the background.

You weren't particularly close to anyone in the fellowship other than Frodo and Sam. But when Boromir died, yes it was sad, but where did the hobbits go? You had stayed close to Aragorn as he fought down the Uruk-hai as you hid in a tree. Before lifting you down, rushing to dying Boromir.

"They took the little ones,"

"Be still."

"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him."

Kneeling next to Boromir, "The hobbits Aragorn, but we shall get them back." Boromir was too far gone to be saved, the wrong brother died sadly. Boromir eyes had met yours once more , as he smiled , before he finished his speech to his king.

After Boromir was sent home, the fellowship was down to just four, rushing after Merry and Pippin. "We must hurry! The hobbits Aragorn!" Five minutes of running , and you were already getting a stitch. This was no time for jokes.

Soon enough Gandalf was alive, and Aragorn was dead, as Théoden had lead you all to helms deep. You had seen Eowyn, oh how heartbroken she was after she found out Aragorn was dead, that bitch knew him for what five minutes, she was already grinding up on him.

You were witch, she was a princess, obviously Aragorn was going to prefer her. Soon enough Aragorn practically marching into helms deep, injured but alive , what's with all the faked deaths.

After Aragorn had done his big speech and everyone had left to get ready for war, you had stayed behind obviously, you didn't want to confront him in front of everyone. "Uh, Aragorn?" You were unsure of yourself, honestly, you can't have a crush on a king. You swear kings have bad hair, lucky Aragorn didn't , look at the British royal family.. now that's embarrassing.

Aragorn had turned Aragorn to face you, waiting for you to speak, he definitely didn't fall from heaven, the Valar decided to test him by shoving him off a cliff.

"Um, I was wondering if I c-could help with those wounds, um, I didn't know if you needed help?" You were sure that your face was probably flushed red, it would be surprising if he could even understand you , as you stumbled over your own words.

Aragorn had nodded , before sitting down near by. Grabbing the king foil out of your bag , along with other healing herbs, Aragorn had removed his jacket and undone some of the buttons on his tunic. Bringing a stool in front of Aragorn for you to sit. You weren't about to chew up the kings foil, tearing it up before trying to gently apply it to the huge gash across his chest.

A small groan had emerged from his lips as you had placed a piece kings foil to the gash too harshly. "Sorry." Looking into Aragorn's bright eyes , for a spilt second before going back to gently placing the kings foil. Aragorn stops you , by grabbing your wrist , not with force, making you look back up at him.

"Do not be sorry, I just fell off a cliff, I've been through worse." A smile reassuring smile plant on his face, but you can only think what is worse than falling off a cliff.

"Okay, sorry, I mean I'm not sorry, you are very intelligent or a king, there's warg! Let's go fight our enemy on the edge of a cliff. Um, actually that's embarrassing because I fell down a well because a owl scared me, I was stuck down there for hours, and then Gandalf found me and used a bucket to get me out. I had to sit in the bucket while he pulled it up."

Aragorn had let go of your wrist , allowing you to continue as you spoke, "you have not changed."

"Pardon?" Aragorn was smiling down at you as your eyebrows scrunched together.

" Last week I saw leaf , hit you in the back of your neck, you jumped three feet in the air." Your face flushed again, as you tried to contain a smile, as Aragorn laughed at you.

"I did not, that was not a leaf, it was a snake!"

"A green round snake, I believe you , y/n" you had stopped applying the kings foil, to put your head between your nerves , to hide your face in embarrassment . "It was a deformed snake."

"Last month, you skidded in mud and fell flat on your back, when Legolas put his hand on your shoulder briefly. Or when you kicked Boromir's cock when he was try-" sitting back up to look at Aragorn.

"You are right, next time it will be you that I will kick." Aragorn could not have shut his legs quicker, making you laugh at him, "I'll have to start wearing a shield."

"Never know when I'll strike, your balls are going to be deformed." Aragorn had gasped at you, as you brought your hand other his wound beginning to heal him as you chanted quietly.

"Such foul language, Gandalf would not approve." Looking up to Aragorn with a small smile, placing your other hand on his shoulder softly, to stop him from moving. Really the healing didn't take very long, the cut left a blood stain though. "Stay there," (or you get unprofessional neutering.) Grabbing the water pouch from your bag, and piece of cloth.

Before returning to sit in front of Aragorn with the damp cloth, wiping off the dried blood gently. You couldn't help but feel like you had done something good today, you got to heal ,clean an very attractive man stopping his wound from getting infected and him dying.

Plus,he's Aragorn, who wouldn't want to touch his chest. As you finished, you had look down for your pouch, only to see how blood his hands were. Lifting his hand up to examine it, no way you were a doctor. " How have you not gotten infection? All that Orc blood going into your open wounds." Again having to heal all the little cuts and slices on his hands.

It was no secret to Aragorn that he had developed a like for you, from the moment Frodo saw you sticking out in the snow like a mole heap.

“Tis the best you are going to be, after this battle you will covered again. Legolas probably glide through here, any minute asking where his beloved is.” Both of you standing up, grabbing your bag, you had leant up to press a kiss to Aragorns cheek, before turning away to head to where the woman and children were, Gandalf’s orders.

Aragorn had stopped you again, by the shoulder, causing you to turn back around. “Y/n, thank you. May I ask for something else?” Aragorns eyes looking into your e/c ones

softly, you had nodded. “Would you accept me courtship?” You had just pressed your lips slow onto his before pulling away.

The door was quickly opened “ARAGORN!” Legolas glided into the room, rushing towards you and Aragorn. Sighing “your beloved is here,” Legolas was stood between both of you, you had to walk around him, to wrap your arms around Aragorn,briefly embracing, before pulling away.

Legolas just stared, “I’m not hugging you too, leg a less, that’s what your name would be if you had no legs, because your legs aragorn”

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