cave of swords


The dark filled all the room, and the fire died down, and the shadows were lost, and still they played on. And suddenly first one and then another began to sing as they played, deep-throated singing of the dwarves in the deep places of their ancient homes; and this is like a fragment of their song, if it can be like their song without their music.

As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and a jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves. Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick.

Written by JRR Tolkien, “The Hobbit” was first published on September 21st, 1937, 80 years ago today.

Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick.

Why Finn is The True Hero of TFA

It’s sad that a post like this has to be created, alas here we are. Many people are quick to discredit Finn’s importance, erasing him completely out of the picture (antis, Lucasfilm, racists, ect), yet if you look at the film from a writer’s perspective, Finn is the true lead/hero of the film.

I’ve been reading up on creating three dimensional characters lately for my own novel, and I’ve come to realize that Finn fits the entire criteria. Not only that, his arc in The Force Awakens is a perfect example of the Hero’s Journey.

So strap in folks, cos this is gonna be a long ride…

Originally posted by johnboyegadaily

First and foremost, let’s start with what makes a three dimensional​ character.

Your first dimension is personality traits, mannerisms, appearance. Your second dimension is backstory/inner demons, why they are the way they are. Your third is the choices the character makes. That dimension is what makes them a three dimensional character.

Finn manages to nail each of these. We obviously know his personality: he’s charming, suspicious, kind, incredibly witty, resourceful, loyal (to his friends), down-to-earth, ect. ect.

We also know his backstory. It’s spelled out clearly in TFA: as a child he was taken away from his family and brainwashed to fight for the First Order.

Now Finn’s choices. He chooses to leave the First Order because he realizes how evil they are. He chooses to rescue Poe because he needs a pilot. He chooses to try to save Rey, even though he’s exhausted and dehydrated (although he didn’t get a chance to cos she handled it herself). He makes the choice to leave, but he makes the choice to come back and fight. He makes the choice to fight the First Order, makes the choice to go back to Starkiller, and makes the choice to fight Kylo Ren.

Talk about a three dimensional character!

Continuing with the theme of choices, Finn’s characterization goes along with rule one basic storytelling: act, don’t react.

You want your protagonist to /act/. They actively decide to become involved in the plot. They actively decide to do a, b, c, and d.

Reacting is just having the character go along with the plot. They go to a, b, c, and d without making an active decision. They’re just blindly following the plot. Basically reacting would be like if the No Man’s Land scene in Wonder Woman was just Diana following one of the other characters into battle.

Finn never reacts. He acts. He constantly makes his own decisions, except for when Poe makes the decision to go back to Jakku (although they both lose the chance to choose when they’re shot down).

Now onto the Hero’s Journey. Everyone knows what the Hero’s Journey is. Every basic fantasy story tells it. But I’ll give you the cliff notes version if you haven’t heard of it previously.

Ordinary world, call to adventure, refusal of the call, meeting the mentor, crossing the threshold, tests & allies & enemies, approach to inmost cave, ordeal, reward (seizing the sword/treasure), the road back, resurrection, return home with the prize.

(As per

I once used Finn’s story arc to help myself better understand the Hero’s Journey. It fits perfectly (although I can’t quite place the acts toward the end of the journey. I keep coming up with different scenes).

So Finn is not only a three dimensional character, he also acts within the story, and fall perfectly into the Hero’s Journey. Not to mention, he has some of the best development of any other character in the movie.

Compare this list to any of the other “heroes” of TFA, without falling back on information gathered from comics or books. Falls a little flat, doesn’t it?

We the audience aren’t allowed to know Rey’s backstory, other than being dropped off on a planet. Rey also never makes the active decision to help the Resistance, she just tumbles along with the plot. The only time they give her the option to choose her destiny, it’s offscreen (an argument could be also made for the lightsaber scene).

The same goes for Poe, unfortunately. He’s missing for half the film and we’re not given his backstory/personal history.

Now before you grab your pitchforks, I’m not hating on Rey, and I’m certainly not hating on Poe (who is my bae). I’m simply pointing out the fact that the writers just… didn’t really do much with their characterization. And if they did, it was all off screen.

With Finn, it’s on screen. It’s always on screen. He’s the most important person in the movie, the one with the best development and characterization.

So please, tell me again how Finn is not the lead of this film?

At Eastwatch, before the fellowship crossed the wall, mostly because I needed another scene between the Hound and Gendry that came before their exchange in the last episode

“You’re scared shitless.”

Gendry turned to find the Hound crossing to join him. He watched his face regard the vast, extensive length of white and blue and endless stretch of snow and cold beyond the wall.

For years he’d heard of stories. Stories of the wall and of snow.

When he’d travelled with Yoren, Gendry had imagined what it would be like to stand at the end of the wall and look beyond. He never imagined what the cold would feel like though. I wasn’t like the cold of the ocean in the middle of the nights all those years ago when he’d fallen off his row boat and was certain he’d drown, sinking below like a pebble never to be found.

It wasn’t even like the cold of the Riverlands. Those nights of rain and mud at Harrenhal as he and Arya and Hot Pie waited to see who’d be next. It was like none of those things. Not like the ice of Kings Landing or the chill of early mornings.

This cold was biting, harsh and constant. It was set deep in his bones and heavy in his lungs.

“It’s just snow,” he finally replied, shaking up and down on the ball of his feet which were frozen in his boots.

“Sure, it’s just snow, but what of what lives in the snow beyond the wall.”

Gendry pressed his lips together and grunted.

“You’re a fucking cunt if you’re not afraid of what’s beyond. What we’re all heading-”

“When did you join the brotherhood? Last I remember they tried to kill you. Do you mean to tell me you came back and asked to join them after?”

“They didn’t try to kill me, you dumb fuck. It was a trial by combat and I won,”

“You didn’t win.”

“I cut Beric in half. He died. Sounds like winning to me.”

“Winning a trial by combat don’t mean you’re innocent, it just means you’re a better fighter”

“Who said anything about innocence? We’re talking winning,”

“But you still weren’t innocent, were you? You killed that boy and they all knew it and they still took you. They made you one of their own and-”

“I don’t know what your little girlfriend told you about that boy, but I was following orders. I heard you’ve been making swords for Lannister men all this time. The Lannisters wanted you dead, and now you’ve armed them with swords that might go on to kill another set of bastards one of these days. But you were only serving, weren’t you? Because it’s what we do. Everyone serves fucking someone else. And those cunts serve other cunts. We’re all just shit people serving shit lords or ladies over one shit reason or another-”

“Then why are you here?! If you think all lords and ladies are shits and cunts, why are you here about to cross the wall to face the undead?”

The last word fell into the the abyss below them, resonating off into the snow and Gendry realized they’d been shouting at each other and suddenly felt very exposed and anxious. He looked out as the thick white falling from the sky made blurred shapes that shifted and moved.

“I’ve seen things.” The Hound finally said, in a low grumble…as if he too had felt unease pass over him. “Things in the fire.”

Gendry glanced over his burned flesh, recalling how terrified he’d been down at the cave when Beric lit his sword to life.

“Who would’ve thought I’d ever be seeking for answers in the fire?”

Gendry looked away, suddenly aware that the Hound was speaking to himself. He didn’t feel he’d meant to say that out loud. One gloved hand adjusted the limp strands of hair over part of his scars and seeing such a vulnerable side of a man like the Hound unnerved Gendry.

“Arya told me-” he began, but stopped himself realizing the Hound didn’t need his sympathy or pity. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight awkwardly.

The Hound chuckled mirthlessly, all vulnerability dropped like a veil.

“Yes, im sure that little bitch told you all about it.”

Gendry closed his eyes and shook his head.

“She’s not… she wasn’t a bit…”

“Wasn’t?” He chuckled again, turning away and walking off. “Do you think she’s dead, boy?”

Gendry’s head snapped, a sudden pulse of nausea moving through him.

“She’s alive?!” He called out at the hound’s retreating form, fading into a curtain of snow.

“Well? Is she?!” He called again, more desperate than he realized he felt. But the Hound was already gone and as he looked out into the empty white beyond the wall something inside of him told Gendry that Arya was, in fact, alive.

on that note:

tiny plate armor made out of pinecones. sticks caved down into swords, or maybe plastic toy swords sharpened to hell. thick clothes made from layers of leaves and petals under the pinecone armor in case anything slips through the cracks.

fuzzy slippers and pjs made from dandilion fluff on petals. petal jackets lined with fluffy cotton for warmth. robes made out of velvety petals.

sleek dresses made out of glossy leaves. heels carved from twigs, lined with petals for comfort. wolffia is the smallest flowering plant in the world - extravagant tiny dresses made up of hundreds of the flower.

temporary hair dye from berry juice, makeup from crushed petals, hair ties and jewlery made from thin stems twisted in delicate patterns.

tiny fashion

This was my first attempt ever to make fanart. I started last summer, when I finally watched all Merlin episodes and I was overwhelmed with the feels for more than a week and make the most ridiculous ambitious plan of making whole series of fanart to cope with all those terrible feels (that finale!!). And here we are, only finshed this now, almost a year later. Well, better late than never!

(It’s supposed to be Kilgarrah and Excalibur in the Crystal cave)

And I really should learn to take pictures in proper quality

Five small myths

1. That you once found a pound in the stomach of a gingerbread man, and you believed it to be the same pound that was once used to buy a winning lottery ticket; these pounds being imbued with a curiously ponderous weariness and their metal queens prone to yawn at odd moments. Later on, that pound literally wore a hole in your pocket and went rolling off down the road to the swimming pool, where it sank without trace.
2. That there was a wizard who retired to the seaside and she had made a pact some time past; one of those ones where you put your heart in a jar and the jar in a cave in the woods and the cave sealed with swords and deathless monsters. But there had been an earthquake and the cave had slipped down into the inlet nearby. Perhaps it is always a mistake to leave your heart somewhere beautiful. Now the woods and monsters and the heart were bone-grey and salty and crumbling. Knowing this was her end too, the wizard hired a beach hut and in it she slipped into sleep and from sleep to sand; and this is why they found a beach hut full of grey sand, but you are the only one who knows this.
3. That you had a relative, maybe an uncle or aunt or somesuch, and they had opened a cursed email once, in the early days of the internet when the demons had not yet been locked down. As a result, they were cursed never to be able to put a USB stick in the right way around; not even the second time. They always had to ask someone else. That you remebered them as a master of polite mock-embarrassment. One day, after a fraught workshop, they went into the internet to ask for the curse to be lifted, and you never saw them again. They might still be in there somewhere, who knows?
4. That in childhood you once found a white flower in a cave. You took seeds home to grow, and they did, but the plant was never quite the same as the one you had seen. Eventually you took the last of the seeds and put them in the bird feeder. That night, a blackbird with one white wing flew down from the moon to eat them. For three years that bird lived in your garden. It may have been that it was waiting for more, but the flower was long gone and so were the seeds. Eventually it flew into a window and the neighbour’s cat snapped its neck while it was still stunned. By then you were old enough to understand loss.
5. That three villages away from here there is a bus stop, and all services to it were cancelled five years ago. Council cutbacks. You know. Nevertheless, there is a bus that still stops there. Nobody lives in the village any more. They have all left on the bus. It always arrives empty, and never to a schedule that you can predict without lunar tables and a knowledge of the tide.

anonymous asked:

Could you do a sort of sacrifice scenario with the chocobros? Like they are fighting a daemon (or something else, idk) and the reader sacrifices the self to save them? Btw I just discovered your blog and it is A-MAY-ZING! :)

Instead of individuals I kinda lumped them all in one huge drabble, please let me know if we were on the same page or I was in a different book entirely. But thank you for stopping by, I hope to keep impressing you! <3


They say when you die, that your life flashes before your eyes. So maybe that was way you were freezing so much while fighting this Cerebus that was currently hounding you all. Sent by Ardyn to toy with you all once again.

The man led you all into an old maze of a mining system, yet each time your group attempted to turn face and run you were instead greeted by the large canine creature, so at this point there were two options, create an opening for attack or watch all of your friends be murdered and ripped to pieces with yourself included.

“Got a plan Specs?” Noctis called.

Your group had seen better days, you had been going against this thing for the last 45 minutes with no real light at the end of the tunnel in sight. Gladiolus had suffered a few whacks, and his right arm was dislocated, making swing his sword rather difficult as no one had time to properly pop it back into place. Prompto was bleeding from his right arm, and made his return fire sloppy, as he wasn’t as steady with his left. When Ignis went to protect Noctis from a slash, the creature got a hold of his leg, making the normal nimble man rather slow and clumsy.

“We need a distraction, should we be able to make it to the exit we will be able to trap this creature within the mines by creating a cave in.” Ignis explained, as the Cerebus pounced in the direction sending the group scattering, and the cave to shake of loose debris. 

You stood, only suffering from a cut bleeding heavily from your forehead, “I’ll go.”

“Wait, no!”

“Nope, I’m the only one here with working limbs. When the coast is clear, go for it, I’ll be right behind you.” You state reassuringly, but even you were uncertain if you’d be able to get out. Yet your duty was to your King, and to a less extent the others. They’re be able to get along without, after all Potions could fix almost anything nowadays.

Summoning a shield within your right hand you begun to beat upon it with a sword, “Hey Poochie!”

The large canine type creature turned to you, creating your reckless noise, moving to pounce on top of you, only for you to roll out the way. You watched, as the four bodies quickly moved toward the exit, summoning a spear as you threw it as hard as possible into the large head, luck would have it, you hit an eye.

Noctis watched as you battled the large creature alone, last person he ever heard going against a Cerberus and winning was Nyx, but Nyx had the power of the Kings. You didn’t, you weren’t even a member of the Guard, you were medical personnel, with the basics of fighting. Now you were fighting against a creature, that almost took out one of their strongest men.

The group had just managed to step out the cave, as Gladiolus rose his sword, stabbing it into a support beam that held the old mine open that was currently the deamon’s home. Everyone waiting to hear your footsteps coming, only to hear the stagger, as you limped from the darkness, holding your shoulder, leaning against the cave wall.

“You’re okay!” Prompto cheered.

A small smile crossed your face, only to turn to horror as you glanced over your shoulder, to the large creature crawling after you rather angrily, jaws snarling. Breaking into a sprint you stumbled over your weak legs, trying to keep yourself up right.

“Move out the cave!” You bark, as the others backed up. A smirk appearing on your face, if you were going down this you were taking the bastard with you. You knew you couldn’t outrun it, but seeing Gladiolus’s broadsword sticking from a wooden support beam, you summoned a sword of your own. Hacking through beam after beam, tearing down only lighting ropes, entrapping the creature  as it struggled to get through, slowing it down. Yet the cables were old and you knew they would snap, grabbing Gladiolus’s broadsword you use most of your strength to pull it free. Turning bright eyes to the others, as the caving structure begun to crumble in on itself.

“What are you doing!”

“It has been an honor to fight beside you all, Your Highness, Ignis, Gladiolus, Prompto. Thank you.” You called, running back into the cave system, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of the creature trying to kill you. Leaping up as you swung a sword, destroying the final support beam that quickly brought down the entire cave.

Sparing one last glance over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile, before your world went black. Their desperate calls the final thing you heard, as the world around you faded.

“Tsk, tsk, and we were just starting to have fun. Well if you’re just going to careless toss your life away, how about I take it for a spin.”


Title: Niespodzianka 
Pairing: Lithuania/Poland
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mention of prostitution, sex mention, homophobic terminology
Word Count: 2,041
Notes: This is my first time having written - and published - anything in well over a year. Sorry if I’m a bit out of touch.

APH Rare Pair Week 2017 Day 5: Gods, Goddesses, and Mythology

Poland has a surprise for Lithuania. Takes place immediately following the events of The Legend of the Iron Wolf.

“Ahaha, ah—”

Lithuania returned from his half-rolling position into a sit. Poland’s backside fell flat on the grass, staring up at the sky.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a while,” said Lithuania. After that conversation, the day brightened. The clouds dotting the sky seemed fluffy and light. Wawel castle did not seem so far away.

“You don’t have fun much,” said Poland pointedly. “You’re the most serious person I’ve met.”

“You don’t have to contend with Tartars and Muscovites!” Lithuania snapped. Realizing he had only met Poland for a few days, and he already yelled at him. “I-I’m sorry. That was unkind.”

“That’s alright.” Poland sat up, grass sticking to his tunic.

“I supposed I really am serious,” said Lithuania. He closed his mind and winced, thinking of his foreign affairs. “There’s a lot going on.”

“Tell you what.” Poland leapt to his feet. “I’ll show you a good time tonight. Meet me outside the castle gates before sunset.”

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