ladies under the mountain (a thing)


Amren: These blood rubies are the best paper weights

Cassian: *probably brings in some sort of stray cat smiling idiotically* OH MA GOSH GUYS LOOK

Mor: *singing counting stars while dancing frantically* LATELY I’VE BEEN I’VE BEEN LOSING SLEEP, DREAMING ABOUT THE THINGS THAT WE COULD BE

Azriel: *plays pattycake with his shadows before Mor eventually joins*

//yep, definitely sadistic killers

Court the King Thorin x reader

Court the King Thorin x reader

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters

Summary: There is a ball thrown for Thorin so that he may choose a lady to court but reader does not feel she is worthy.

A/N: I don’t normally write for the hobbit but I’m feeling some Thorin love today and this is what happened.

Warnings:jealousy maybe a little angst

The halls of Erebor were beautiful bringing back cherished memories of your childhood here before Smaug descended upon your home. It would take years to repair all of the damage caused by the dragon but in the months since the battle of the five armies your people had made excellent progress in clearing the debris and starting the rebuilding process. It seemed Thorin was always busy these days trying to restore the kingdom to its former glory. Tonight however a ball was planned. It was of popular opinion that the young king should be courting someone or at least trying to find someone to court and make his queen. You could tell Thorin did not like this idea but since the battle the two of you had barely spoken he was always busy with one thing or another. In truth you had fallen for the king under the mountain while on the road with him and the company but being a warrior dwarf you were hardly suitable for the king. He was deserving of someone of noble blood with a beauty that would put even the stars to shame. Ladies had been arriving for days from all the dwarven kingdoms to try and win the favor of your beloved Thorin. Tonight you knew the Ballroom would be full of gorgeous gowns with even more gorgeous women inside them and melodious music. Every woman would be trying to woo Thorin into courting them so they could be queen.

“Y/N will you be going to the ball tonight?” Fili asked coming to stand by your side in the dining hall.

“Why would I? The ball is to find the king a queen is it not? I am not qualified for that so it is better I stay away.”

“Oh please you’re plenty qualified. Besides even if you are not interested in trying your hand at going after uncle there will be ale and merriment you must come. It will not be the same without you.”He pleaded for awhile longer before finally soliciting an agreement from you.

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paperbacktrash  asked:

Favourite things about Lucien

- how genuinely surprised he was when he heard children playing in velaris. that was super cute

- how polite he is. calling Elain my lady and asking Rhys if he can give his advice

- what he did for Feyre in the spring court and how he gave her his cloak and kept her warm

- giving Elain space and being super nervous and awkward in front of her

- his sass and wittiness

- risking his life under the mountain so he could help feyre. even though he didn’t like her that much and even though she killed his friend

- and honestly being able to heal and survive everything that’s happened to him without anyone’s help

- his hair

ask me!

The Aim of Elves

Overall Summary: You disobey Thranduil’s orders and decide to help the dwarves which has a better outcome than you expected.

Chapter Summary: Thranduil tries to coax the other elves to return to Mirkwood; Gold talk; and more baby Dis 

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

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Sansukh Re-read Ch.1

Okay, first, FlukeofFate and a-sirens-lullaby did amazing art for this and it always reminds me of the cover art on certain books, fancy and giving you hints of what the book’s about but not spoiling anything. That really doesn’t have anything to do with the writing, but it’s amazing! Also, all of the art people have done for this? Amazing!

This is also probably a good time to admit that I read this before I had finished reading The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings books and before I’d watched all the movies. I knew that Thorin, Fili, and Kili died, it was impossible to avoid those spoilers on tumblr, but I’d put off starting this (despite how cool it sounded) because of that. I caved, however, and thus there were a few things that I read here before I was able to read them in the books (I think there were fifteen or twenty chapters of Sansukh by the time I finished reading both books).

Where was the Hobbit? Where was the frozen lake? Last he recalled, he had been bleeding to death at the edges of the silent battlefield. His madness had passed, but it had exacted too high a price. His family was spent and gone, his nephews cold and stiffened in death and rent with many wounds. Their soft-handed and great-hearted Burglar had forgiven him, even as he wept over Thorin’s broken body.

He did not deserve such forgiveness.

Poor Thorin, he’s got so much guilt and it takes him so long to work through it :’( I really just want to wrap him up in a soft blanket and tell him that he’ll be okay.

Thorin opened his new, useless eyes and glared into the darkness. “Then why, may I ask, did you make me so flawed?”

Thorin yelling at his Maker is both heartbreaking and a bit funny. Heartbreaking, because everything that he says, he believes. He really thinks that Mahal made a mistake, that he was flawed, that he was the reason things had gone wrong and that nothing else contributed it. A bit funny, though, because Thorin is literally yelling at a supremely powerful being who can’t even touch Thorin without him feeling the amount of power Mahal holds. And Thorin literally doesn’t care, he’s speaking his mind and Mahal just lets him vent.

“I lived less well. And amends are not of use,” Thorin spat. “That is not the point of them!”

Thorin understands this better than 90% of people I interact with on a daily basis.

“Everyone, this way! Found him, finally, how many sepulchres are there in this place?”

“Mahal only knows. Actually, he probably does. We should ask.”

As soon as I read the summary for this story, I was honestly hoping that someone would make a ‘Mahal only knows’ 'Well, then why don’t you ask him’ joke, and it happened in the first chapter!

“Best move out of the way,” Thrór muttered, and Thráin chuckled again.

“Aye, she won’t be patient much longer.”

“You mean she can be patient?”

“Don’t insult my wife, you old coot.”

There’s a lot of feels in this chapter, but it’s the funny bits like this that help me keep from breaking into tears so soon. I need to pace myself, after all, or there’ll be none left by the time I get to Dís and Dísith.

“By the way, Grandma is kind of terrifying,” Kíli said, and then he yelped as the lady Frís, daughter of Aís, Princess Under the Mountain and wife of Thráin, presumably pinched him.

“Behave, young one,” she said sternly, pulling back to stroke Thorin’s face again and thread her fingers through his close-cropped beard. “I’ll get to you two in a moment.”

“Terrifying,” said Fíli admiringly. “I kinda see where Mum gets it from, now.”

“Our grumpy little Dís as a mother,” said a young, laughing voice, a voice that rang like bells. “Let Middle-Earth tremble.”

Have I mentioned that I love Frís? Because I do, so much, and it’s things like this, as well as how compassionate she is, how organized she is, how loving…okay, there’s a lot to love about Frís. She’s one of my favorite Sansukh OCs.

“Shut up,” Thorin choked, and Frerin threw back his head and laughed his silver laugh and oh, Thorin had missed him, missed him so much.

“You shut up,” he said gently, and then Frerin was pulling his braid and abruptly Thorin was struck with a memory so vivid that he reeled with the strength of it, sent back to a hazy, golden time when he was five years old and the new baby kept chewing and tugging at his hair.

How every sibling reunion ever probably goes, minus the hair pulling. Or with more of it, depending on who the siblings are.

“I’m dreaming, yes?” he asked of no-one in particular. “Thorin doesn’t tease. He got brought back wrong. Mahal made a mistake.”

“Oh, you think you two were bad?” said Thrór archly. “These two had you beaten.”

“Why do you think he already knew most of your tricks?” added Frerin. “We thought up that stuff a century before you two.”

“It was always your idea,” Thorin muttered.

“And you always led the way,” Frerin said, and nudged him. “Such a dutiful Prince!”

Kíli wailed aloud, and Thorin could just picture the look of betrayal on his face. “Everything I knew is wrong,” he moaned.

Thorin smiled through his tears and Fíli chuffed a laugh. “Poor Kíli. He’s pulling at his hair again.”

“Tell him to stop. He doesn’t have hair enough to spare,” Thorin said, and Kíli’s outraged yelp made him smile all the harder.

Poor Kíli, he doesn’t know half of the things Thorin and Frerin got up to before he was even thought of. His pranking title is in serious jeopardy in light of this new information.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” said Fíli into his ear. “Why didn’t you or Mum ever tell me I looked like your mother and brother? I always thought I was the odd one out!”

“In this family?” Frís snorted. “When it comes to odd, we are rather spoiled for choice.”

I’ve said something similar to this so often in real life, that I actually laughed when I read this bit for the first time. My dog looked at me funny, apparently I’d woken her up from her nap.

“You weren’t so nice to us,” accused Fíli. “Mobbed us, you did! I thought we were under attack at first! I punched my own father on the nose!”

That surprised a true laugh out of Thorin, thought it hurt his chest. “You hit Víli?” he said.

“He did. And I stamped on Grandfather’s foot,” said Kíli.

Thráin cleared his throat. “And bit my hand,” he added sternly.

“Well, you try being blind as a bat and naked as a mole and having your dead grandfather commenting on your lack of beard, see how you like it,” Kíli grumbled.

Poor Víli, that’s probably not how he expected his reunion with his sons to go.

“Oh, it’s Thrór all over again, someone stop him,” groaned Frís. “We’re going to drown in the combined guilt of the Line of Durin before we ever lay a stone of Arda Remade.”

If all of the Durins are like Thorin, then Frís is probably right about that.

Rest Now, Hero

Three years can change quite a lot in a person’s life, thought Queen Zelda as she finished writing her name on several important edicts. Her mind had been drifting all that afternoon, despite the important documents that demanded her attention.

But such an anniversary as the day her beloved kingdom had been saved from a demonic tyrant returned from death deserved some extra thought.

Hyrule had, after the Twilight returned to its proper realm and the young monarch had said goodbye to one of her closest allies, enjoyed a time of peace that she used to read about in fairy stories. Her counsellors had rushed to coronate her as soon as was allowed, and she had in turn spent every waking hour of hers tending to the wounds of her nation. Castletown was responsible for sending relief to the outlying villages, under Zelda’s wise governance. Kakariko’s sorry state had improved, as did the relations with the Goron tribe, which increased the village’s worth as a mining depot. Precious minerals and metals brought much needed wealth to the war-stricken land. The wealth was invested in the rebuilding of the towns and farms and military and defenses; so much good happened in so quickly a manner that Zelda was just as quickly regarded as one of the most favored royals in Hyrule’s great history.

Another of her more favored decisions was to elect Link of Ordon not only into her court, but also into her new military as Lord General and High Knight. She had discussed the idea with him for a great while, and he was reluctant to accept such a high position of power. She thought that his humility was, however, a good indication that he would fit the position she needed him for. After slowly convincing him to come to her court, Link was quickly knighted and honored as Zelda believed he ought to be. And in return, Link was quick to take the often criticized military of Hyrule and turn it on its head.

She had requested of him to restore honor to the banner of the army, and he had worked as tirelessly as she did to honor his word. Traitors and deserters were purged from the ranks while hearty, blue-blooded men of zeal were flocking to enlist. Those who remained were quickly shaped into soldiers that pleased the new queen greatly. Link had done for the army as she had done for the kingdom proper–restored it to its former glory.

Only after the dust of the rebuilding had settled did her counselors dare introduce the idea of her taking a suitor. Though she was their sovereign queen and could rule just fine as it was, they were more focused on the future. Her father had died suddenly and without much warning, leaving his former advisors wary of lightning striking twice. It was with great reluctance that Zelda obliged, and only after insisting that whatever final decision on any eligible suitor lay with her and her alone. The compromise was accepted, and soon regal and noble bachelors from abroad came flocking to the queen’s presence.

None of them stayed very long.

The first few were cordial enough, and were passed over as politely as Zelda could manage. Later suitors proved more… difficult. Once or twice, Zelda had encountered some tough-headed elitist who believed himself stupidly superior to her. An opinion which would readily be corrected when the target of their “affections” had them forcibly removed from her castle. More often than not, it had been Link who would remove them, much to the young queen’s relief.

After a while, and after several men had unsuccessfully claimed her hand, Zelda was presented with an unexpected suitor that she did not reject outright as she had the others. Her own knight, Sir Link.

Their positions required them to spend time together, it was true, but in times of calm they came to find themselves still in each other’s company. Quiet meetings in the library, afternoon tea outside, and often did he accompany her to state balls and other such celebrations. Their time together turned more personal.

He asked her, one night, over a private dinner in the gardens only a few months ago. He was nervous, and he fumbled over his words when he brought the idea up; but Zelda accepted his proposal nonetheless. Granted, when the counsel heard of it, she had to explicitly remind them all of the bargain she had made with them. It was her choice in the end, and Link had more than earned a fair try.

Their courtship thereafter was more of the same, but with slightly more public displays. It was now expected that they spend time together. Things were easy enough, but their duties did sometimes mean they would not see each other for the whole of a day.

That had been the case as of late. Link had busied himself with all manner of things pertaining to his soldiers. Monsters still roamed the borders, he had told her, and he was determined to keep them at bay if not completely eradicated. His latest mission had called him to go south, back to his homeland in Ordon. Reports of Moblins continuously harassing villagers was more than enough to draw the Lord General away from Castletown. Zelda sent him along with her blessing, as she always did when he had a mission, but she fretted for him anyway.

At last, Zelda put the final signature on the last document, and she handed it to one of her pages.

“Has there been any word of the Lord General’s return,” she asked, rising from her desk.

“Not yet, Majesty. But his Grace is expected to return this evening by the word of his clerk,” the servant replied with a humble bow.

She resisted the urge to purse her lips, but accepted the report with a nod. “Very well. If that is all, then I will be in the library for the remainder of the day.”

True to her word, Zelda made her way to her practical sanctuary in the castle and shut the door. Aside from the odd scholar or minister, Zelda was the only one who really gave the library much use. It was peaceful, cozy, and hers. She could, unless otherwise occupied, spend hours upon end without tiring. Often, Link would come and share some of the time spent in the hallowed study. She usually waited for his return with a book in hand, so it was not unreasonable for her to believe he would come for her when he arrived.

She took one of her favorite books from its spot on a great desk by the even greater fireplace and took a seat in one of the luxurious armchairs. Once settled, she took the ribbon out of the place she left off and began her story. One hour passed, then another. It was close to the third hour since she had come to her place when she was disturbed by a knock.

“Come in.”

One of her ladies in waiting entered, giving a polite curtsy. “My lady,” she said, voice clear yet soft, “the Lord General to see you.”

Link. He had returned.

“I will see him. Let him in, please.”

The lady nodded before opening the door. In strode the general, who must have come straight from his arrival. He still wore his thick traveling cloak over his embroidered tunic and breeches. Somehow, her tailors manages to give Link a suitable wardrobe that was still his signature shade of forest green, which pleased the general greatly. His suit was of a darker shade of green, with leaves of a lighter coloring. The trim was gold, which he did not mind, with thick gloves and boots that covered his knees. He looked the part of a finely dressed man of the court, except for his conical hat. He did not allow the tailors or dressers to alter it in any way, and that was something Zelda did not mind.

He bowed, as was expected of him, and Zelda rose from her chair to greet him. She allowed him to kiss the back of her hand, which was all the affection they could show while in the presence of others.

“Your Majesty,” he said, voice low from apparent exhaustion. The lady in waiting took that as her cue to leave, curtsying once more before leaving, closing the door behind her. Once they were alone, Zelda turned so they could return to the armchairs.

“Come, sit down. You look as if you’re about to collapse,” she said before he could say a word. Link released something like a huff and a sigh combined. She had read his mind, again. He followed her to the grouping of chairs, making sure he waited until she was seated before he took his place in the chair across from her.

“I’m quite alright, my lady, but I do thank you,” Link said as he settled into the chair. Their relationship, still new and very tentative, was still littered with formalities that would have been readily done away if Zelda had her way. However, they both kept up the respectful air, if for no other reason than to give none of the counselors cause for complaint against their courtship.

Zelda began to examine her general as he settled into the soft velvet of the armchair. Despite his insistence that he was in no need of rest, he seemed to be glad to be off his feet.

“How was your journey? Successful, I trust?”

Link removed his hat and held it in one hand while the other tousled his hair. “T’was all right, I suppose. The Moblins had to be forced back over the border a few times, but we made our presence known. They won’t return if they have any sense left in them.”

Zelda nodded, accepting the report. “And you’re well? No injuries, no problems to speak of?”

She had the blind hope that he would mention that he intended on resting, or something of the sort.

Link shook his head in response to her question. “No injuries to report, my lady.”

His reply was short. Not curt, but short. As if he had other things on his mind.

"I trust you plan to get some well deserved rest now that you have returned?”

Her suggestion was a bit heavy-handed, but looking him over, seeing him with dark circles under his eyes and the light in his striking cobalt eyes dimmer than she was used to, she decided he needed a good hint.

However, he shook his head, trying to act against his apparent exhaustion.

“On the contrary, I’m afraid I must leave again tomorrow. The North Mountain border has reports of—“

She didn’t let him finish.

“I’m certain we can assign someone to take care of whatever is taking place up north. You just came back after being gone for weeks, now.”

Link paused, hearing the slightly insistent tone in the Queen’s voice. Zelda didn’t want Link to leave so soon. “You’ve been gone for a while, Link,” she said, softening her voice ever so slightly, “I’ve missed your company, and you must be exhausted from all your travels.”

Link did not reply right away. He seemed oddly conflicted, as if he did not want to stay in her presence—a thought which hurt Zelda the more she allowed herself to entertain it.

“… I suppose I can afford a day of rest before I resume my duties.”

The Queen’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly.

“What on earth is he avoiding?” she pondered. Out loud, she questioned him further. “Only one day? General,” (oh how she hated addressing him by his title when they were alone), “only a day’s rest seems a little inadequate, in my opinion. Surely, you’ve done well enough that the army can afford to let you take a proper holiday–”

“Zelda, I can’t do that.”

There was a thick silence as Link voiced his protest, and Zelda’s heart sank. He was avoiding her…

“And why not? Link, you have been gone for weeks, and yet you’re determined to work yourself to death up in the mountains?”

Zelda almost bit her tongue at the harshness of her tone, but she couldn’t help it. Link, on the other hand, flinched at her voice. Somehow, she had hit the nail on the head by calling him out.

“I have to, Zelda… I can’t afford to just let these problems go unresolved. The counsel has already—I mean—“

The Counsel? Zelda raised her eyebrow again. This was all because of her counselors…?

“What about them? What have they to do with your duties…?”

Link drew in a deep breath, sighing out of his nose. He looked guilty, sad, and exhausted all at once; and Zelda felt awful for accosting him the way she was…

"… they’ve been, rather… snide with me, I suppose,” he said quietly. “I’ve heard many of them saying I still don’t belong here—that I’m just a bastard goat-herd trying to climb my way into the ranks of nobility.”

Zelda had to cover her mouth with her hand to prevent another outburst. Now she understood…

Link was under just as much pressure as she was. And somehow… she had forgotten that.

“You mustn’t mind what they say, Link,” she finally said once she composed herself. “They’re all of the ‘high opinion’ that noble blood is the only thing that matters.”

Link opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but closed it as Zelda stood. He stood up as well, as manners dictated, but was surprised when she crossed over to him to take his gloved hands in her petite ones.

“If they are the reason you don’t allow yourself a day’s rest… well, remember two years ago? When you had to kidnap me away from the palace so I would not work myself to death?”

Her tone had softened considerably, and the memory of him practically dragging the young queen, who was as stubborn as he was being right then, away from her desk in order to keep her grounded brought a smile to his exhausted face for the first time that evening.

“… are you going to drag me to Zora’s Domain, then?”

“No,” she said, suppressing a laugh, “but I will tell you not to give a thought to what those stuffy counselors think. You do amazing work for Hyrule, but you need rest, too.”

They were close, now. Their hands grasping each other, faces so close that Zelda could have rested her forehead against Link’s if she so chose.

"Please… Just stay a while…”

Another silence, but this time was more quiet understanding than fear and rejection. Link let out a deep sigh, letting his shoulders slump in surrender.

“I will… And, Zelda?”

She tilted her head up to meet his eyes, seeing the look of relief wash over him like a wave.

“I’m sorry for being such a fool.”

This time, Zelda allowed herself a smile, reaching up to place her hand on the general’s cheek.

“You are forgiven… on one condition.”

Link furrowed his brow, but only until Zelda explained her terms.

“You are to take a bath immediately. And join me for dinner later tonight. Agreed?”

“I suppose I can follow those orders, your Majesty.”


OKAY. I finally got this one up. I can’t remember who sent the prompt, but this one was Zelda and Link getting into a row because Link is working too hard. Blahhhh. I had a lot of writer’s block with this one; I might eventually come back and remaster it…

I’m going to try to work through the other prompts I have now that things are (slightly) calming down for me.

Prompter, I do hope you like this.

A Court of War and Starlight: Part 10

(Read: Part I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII | XVIII | XIX | XX | XXI | XXII | XXIII | XXIV | XXV | Nessian I | XXVI | XXVII | XXVIII | Elucien I | XXIX | XXX | XXXI | XXXII | XXXIII | XXXIV | XXXV | Elucien II | XXXVI | XXXVII | XXXVIII | Nessian II | XXXIX | XL | Feyrhys I | XLI | Elucien III | XLII | XLIII | Elucien IV | Nessian III | XLIV | XLV | XLVI | Elucien V | Azriel I | XLVII | XLVIII | XLIX | L | Elucien VI | Moriel I | LI | LII | LIII | LIV | LV | LVI | LVII | LVIII | LIX | LX | LXI | Nessian IV | LXII | LXIII | LXIV | LXV | LXVI | LXVII | LXIII | LXIX | LXX | LXXI | LXXII | LXXIII | LXXIV | LXXV | Epilogue )


For once, Keir did not let me down. The invitation to the Autumn Court was in my foyer bright and early two mornings after I had requested it. I smirked as I fingered the parchment, which smelled of crisp, dying leaves. Threats were crass, it was true, but they certainly did garner results.

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My Pumpkin

From Imaginexhobbit | 

Over dinner, your father looked at you, and paused as he saw the courting bead fastening the braid in your hair. He scowled, looked at you, then at Fili, who was a guest for dinner. Your father grunted, and got up to go to the living room, where a fire was roaring in the hearth. Fili took this as his clue to follow him there. 

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Rhysand didn’t know what happened until he found himself buried in blankets and pillows with Feyre shaking against him.

A thunderstorm had hit the Night Court an hour before, and the second the first boom sounded, Feyre had winnowed directly to him, taken his hand, and winnowed to the bedroom.

Another loud boom sounded through their home, Feyre jumped with the impact of the noise. Rhys couldn’t help but laugh, Feyre was afraid of thunder. Though the thing he found funny about it was that: Feyre, the High Lady of the Night Court, Cursebreaker, the most powerful fae in their world… Was afraid of thunder. Even after the war with Hybern, even after Under The Mountain, Feyre’s fear was thunder.

“Want to talk?” He asked, the two were under a peach colored blanket that gave them little light as Rhys looked down at Feyre hugging him.

“I’m afraid of thunder… Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yes, but why?”

Feyre mumbled somethings almost too low for him to hear, though he barely made out her words.

“What?” He asked.

“It’s stupid,” she muttered with a frown. Another boom sounded and Feyre jumped before she buried herself in his chest.

Rhys smiled down at her, the way she acted was kinda cute, he figured. “A fear is nothing to be ashamed of, darling.” He purred before gently rubbing her back and placing kisses on top of her head.

“I’ve been afraid of thunder since I was little,” she whispered, “Before my father lost our wealth, I would cry in my room when thunderstorms hit. Sometimes I went to Elain, sometimes Nesta, rarely mother or father… Elain was the one I usually was near when I was scared.”

Rhys continued to rub her back and kiss her head, whispering lovely things to her.

“The cottage we lived in wasn’t soundproof so the thunderstorms got even louder. The days of thunderstorms were the days I didn’t go out to hunt.” She paused and cuddled closer to his chest, “One night I was out hunting when a storm hit… I got so scared I hid in the forest until the storm was over. I returned empty handed, crying, wet and cold… I couldn’t even stand as I entered. I was so ashamed that my fear got the better of me… I got out the next day and didn’t return until I got something big to eat. I returned with a doe.”

“What triggered it?” Rhys asked gently, he pulled Feyre closer to his face and gently placed kisses along her cheek.

“The loud noise I think… After that one storm I couldn’t look into my sisters eyes, I didn’t want to talk about what happened that night. I just wanted to forget it.”

“I’m sorry, Feyre.” Rhys whispered. “But look at it on the bright side, I’ll be here to protect you… I’m never leaving you alone with your fears… If you need me, I’ll be there.”

Feyre looked up at him with wide eyes, “promise?”

“Promise.” Rhys smiled, “I also kinda like being able to comfort you like this, it makes be feel good. To know that I can help you if you need it.”

Feyre smiled, “I like this too.”

I thought with the month of August starting and the end of summer nearing, I’d make a list of the people who I couldn’t bear to unfollow. Thank you so much for being around and part of my tumblr experience. ;w; Bolded urls are those who have made a particularly special impact on me. ^_^

an-unexpected-heroask-thetitanwhispererachildofyavanna, azogdefiles, alwina-greenpeach, armandgreenstone, are-you-tolkien-to-me, breaking-all-illusions, bggins, bilbae, baqqinshield, backstage-whore, buttdazzled, beckoningforest, bloooooms, bonedaddy-o, badassbowman, charmander-shepard, captain-of-the-elven-guard, calicoskatts, confidenthusky, celestial-yelling, channingtatumsfierybutthole, deaddurin, deadboromir, darksaoirse, dwarfracistpartykingthrandy, ewlegolas, elven-lass, eomir, elrand, emmamabelrose, edheltari, eowynsheildmaiden, everything-takes-forever, eowyns, frodo–baggins, filikilithorinbilbo, fieldcate

gaaladrieel, gayhobbits, glacial-grizzly, gameoflotr, gizzard-of-the-gods, galiad, haldirsbow, hobbitunderthemountain, hella-hogwarts, hungryhufflepuff, heartseekerin, hobbittonya1214, haailhydra, hezavpkirkland, it-smells-like-elves, inmiddlearth, imactuallyprettyokaynow, jessicabethxoxo, jjwritergirl, jeanpunkvaire, kissmyoakenshield, kiliish, lilytook, lordlegolas, lady-of-ressarnos, laerien, ladyvader1005, lilnuggetsune, legolashasthebooty, lost-tales-of-middle-earth, ladydurinofcamelot, moreglamthanyou, mybabybop, master-thranduil, meeralith, mystayinthedarkness, middle-earthbender, millibytes, mollybitchslaphooper, mcr-fucked-me-up, miss-hiddlesbatch, mistergandalf, mr-bilbo-boggins, melkorwashere

noxdreamer, nedthepiemaker, ned-thepie-maker, no9jazzst, nerdy-cake, necrotichope, nekogorogoro, njorddottir, ohelvenking, ozbekystan, oviddd, ofelvesandwinchesters, pen-strokes-and-music-notes, pipkin-the-hellion, peanutbutter-tsundere, prince-rogers, piemakingdeadwaker, partiallycanadian, pretty-angry, princesskirin, punkboromir, polygod, phoenixfeatherwand, preciousthedemon, rings-kings-and-things, roaminglettuce, root4groot, realityn, sonicscrewdrivingmissdaisy, schnurvel, sixmarigolds, sonsofeanor, sailor-butthole, stripygirl, s0neir, spirkito, silverlacelet, smaug-king-under-the-mountain, sherlolly-is-jolly, slybluest, sexualiteaparty

theringofthelords, thudworm, two—towers, thraaaaaaaanduuuuuuuuiiiiiiiiil, thedragonsavior, tuci-tuci553, thewhovianat221bwithpie, thranduliciousness, thepensarecursed, thorduil, thecloudmeister, thepocketedindividual, theunitedstatesofanxiety, thatsfinnick, thorin-king-under-the-mountain, thranduilsscar, thranduilfics, tessaractwasp, thranduil-the-elven-king, thorinsbeard, theslytherinbidoof, thehobbitdiaries, theatre-of-the-maddened, themagicofnutella, the-wolf-and-th3-fox, tashquito, theatrical-indie, taco-speaks-now, ulmoofthevalar, varyaner, varda, vellha, vintagecabinet, wnnbdarklord, willhenreeeee, wheredidalltheseelvescomefrom, youwereenjoyingit, your-not-so-average-white-boy

221b-gay-street, 07fears

If you aren’t on the list, and you feel  like you should be, I might have accidentally skipped over you when I was sorting the urls alphabetically. Thank you all so much! 

anonymous asked:

I always see fem bilbo but I have never seen lady thorin, do you know of any fics featuring the queen under the mountain?

yes, uh, actually i know some like

Jewels in Her Hair by diemarysues (also with cisfem!bilbo.)

Hands series by diemarysues(cisfem!bilbo too.)(with asexual!cisfem!Thorin)

and many a song (cisfem!bilbo too.)by alkjira

Not Without You by Lady_Juno

also if you’re into smutfics

the lying sense by dualce(with cisfem!bilbo)

and Don’t You Dare by Fili_sexbeard(with trans!fem!bilbo)

but you’d do better in asking my friend kurosmind because she’s really into the cisfem!thorin thing and she probably knows about it a lot more than i do :) she also knows a lot more of cisfem!thorin/bilbo which i don’t know a lot of at all.

anonymous asked:

What do you think about the Statue that Steven's house comes out of?

That is a very excellent question. I’ve been meaning to go back and look at that but keep forgetting, so thank you for nudging me in that direction.


I’m going to just throw out whatever stray thought comes to mind here, and it’s liable to get long and rambly, because me. So under a cut, because that’s how much I care about you.

[A reminder please to be careful about spoilers. This is open conjecture with whatever pops into my brain, and I’m not looking for confirmation of anything here.]

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  • Book 1:
  • Tamlin- is a bit of a jerk but you get the reasoning behind it later and awwww cute couple so you let it slide. Doesn't act so Amarantha doesn't know what affects him most and torture people that way. Loves Feyre and doesn't want to endanger her so he sacrifices his people's freedom for her.
  • Rhysand- is a horrible person, shatters people's minds, and willingly does Amarantha's bidding but does so in an attempt to break her rule and is sexy af and mysterious so you don't hate him as much as you might. Plus: why so startled by Feyre after revealing your heart to her?(be real here, I loved him when I first saw him. Gimme)
  • Book 2:
  • Tamlin- is protective of Feyre to the point of ignoring that she is suffering because of it. You want to give him slack b/c of Under the Mountain but he just acts more and more in his own best interest and not Feyre's and you get more and more angry and uncomfortable. Then you realize holy crap this is a toxic relationship and I've been trying to defend him just like Feyre and nope I'm protecting myself and her. Loves Feyre, but can't see that she's not willing to simply sit and be pretty and protected.(And I never really liked him anyway so I'm not too sad about cutting him out)bonus: there's no such thing as a High Lady
  • Rhys- my precious narcissistic prick I love you. He rescues Feyre from marrying Tamlin, because she is begging anyone to save her. He sees she's literally wasting away in the Spring Court and helps her. And saves her when TAMLIN locks her up and causes her to have a panic attack. Teaches her to read(Rhys is the most handsome High Lord)and fight and use her abilities. Treats her as his equal. Destroyed and debased himself to protect the Court of Dreams and its people and knows what he did is inexcusable but he did it for his people. Loves Feyre and wants her to make her own choices and respects every single one she makes, even if it scares the crap out of him and it means he isn't with her. Is really a wonderful and good person under the Night Lord mask.(plus they're mates so my OTP won)bonus: makes Feyre his High Lady
Santa Claus Drives A Grey Lincoln Continental

I grew up in a family of six. 

We were poor.

If it hadn’t been for my great uncle buying the house we lived in, Gods only knows where we would have ended up. 

We knew we were poor.

Every year at Christmas my parents would tell us about Santa having a bad year, and Christmas might not be so great. This was code for ‘don’t expect a lot’ that was used around my baby brother.

We understood. Really we did.

One year was especially bad, and we were just thankful we still had a house to call home, and all that. We knew not to expect much.

Then, one day, while my parents were out playing helper elf we heard a car on the driveway. Maybe I should explain, because I’ve spoken to city folk, and they didn’t understand. We’re rednecks. We lived out in the boonies. Our driveway was ¾’s a mile long. The only people that ever used our driveway were a) lost b) jehovah witnesses, c) family, b) lost jehovah witnesses.. So we learned pretty quick how to identify a car if it’s a family members or not by the sound. IDK, I can’t explain it right. I just learn what my family’s and friends cars sound like, and people think that’s weird. *shrug*

So, anyway, my parents are out playing elf in the city, when we hear a car on the driveway. We looked at each other. It wasn’t family, and it anyone’s that we knew, and it was too danged cold for people to be getting lost and going down weird driveways. (Seriously, now that I think about it, our house was like the kind that you see in scary movies. Like, waaay waaaay out there. Like point of no return.)

So, we did what any inquisitive child does. We ran to the door and peeked out the window (we would hide if it was bill collectors or something). And as the car turned the last corner we got very squinty-eyed.

“I think it’s Sanna.”


“No look guys…”


The car stops, and out steps, Santa Claus.

I start freaking out. “HE’S REAL HE’S REAL!! THEY LIED! WE HAVE TO GO TO BED!!”

But my brothers were a little more skeptical, and they shoved me and lil bit behind them for protection. 

Santa, in full gear (and not some chinsy chaffey mass produced kind. it was soft and warm.) stepped out the car, readjusted his hat and then went to his trunk, and pulled out a massive box.

I started jumping again, “WE HAVE TO GO TO BEEED!" 

This time my brothers stayed quiet as they watched the man approach. As he got closer it became obvious that the beard was not fake. The suit was not fake, the smile wasn’t fake.

Santa Claus drives a Grey Lincoln Continental and no one can tell me otherwise!!

So, Santa made it to the door and we hid a little so he wouldn’t think we were creepers. He knocked and my brothers answered.

"Ho ho ho! MEEEEEEEEEERRRY CHRISTMAS.” I was sitting on the couch with my lil bit having a fucking spaz fit. The ho ho ho wasn’t forced. The Merry Christmas sounded so genuine. “Are  your parents home?”

“Uh.. no, they’re in the city, sir.”  My brother answered.

“Oh, well, I have some gifts here for the Dunn kids…”

I’m not screaming into a pillow, cause there’s no way Santa’s gonna trust us with our own gifts.

“I suppose if you kids wouldn’t mind sitting on the couch and letting an old man enter your house a couple of times, I can put these here gifts under your tree. That is, if you don’t mind.”

By this point my brothers are believers. Santa Claus came to our house, like a WEEK EARLY. My brothers nodded, fastened the door so it would stay open, bundled up with me and lil bit under blankets on the couch, and we watched, intently, as Santa brought in 2 or 3 boxes full of wrapped gifts and arranged the gifts around the tree.


As he finished my brothers lemented to Santa that we lacked Milk and Cookies (this seemed to surprise him a little.) but he said it was okay, that seeing our smiling faces was enough for him.

“Just promise me, that you won’t open these gifts before Christmas, that’s all I ask.”

We were nodding like bobble heads. “We Promise, Mr. Sandy Claus!” I chirped from behind a pillow (if I hadn’t held onto the pillow, I prolly would have tackled him with hugs.)

He laughed, a real genuine Ho Ho Ho, and then waved goodbye.

We ran to the porch, waving to him as he left. He rolled down his window and shouted “Ho Ho Ho! MEEERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!”

We. About. Died.

We spent the next several hours squeeing over Sandy Claus, and watching the presents. Never touching, just LOOOKING on them from the couch.

That evening when my parents came home, you could prolly imagine their surprise.

“What. The. Hell??”

“Did one of your uncles or aunts show up?”

*Heads shook no in unison*


*Heads shook no in unison*

“Someone from church?”

*Heads shook no in unison*

“Did you lot seriously let some fucking stranger into our house?”

I started vibrating again.




My parents looked at each other. “Did you sign up for this?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

My parents weren’t ones to ask for handouts. They might ask the preacher from church if they could get food from the food pantry, but they never asked anyone for money or GIFTS.

Apparently, people at church thought we needed some help too, because one of the ladies “adopted” us and gave my parents a couple of big bags worth of presents. They didn’t have the heart to tell her that someone else had already done so.

And that christmas morning, what could have been the worst christmas ever, turned into the Year In Which We Had To Dig The Christmas Tree Out From Under The Mountain of Presents.

Afterwards, my parents, each separately asked around to friends, co-workers, parishioners at church, if someone had put their name in some special thing where Santa Claus made a home visit.

We never did figure who he was.

And that’s why I say, He is real, and he drives a Grey Lincoln Continental. 

dealanexmachina  asked:

Beca, Chloe and Audrey watch Frozen. Audrey and Chloe discuss the ginger/blonde connection. Audrey overidentifies with Elsa. Chloe points out that she is basically Anna. Beca is left wondering if she is Olaf or Kristoff. Kisses might have to be administered. You know, for science. (What? It is still Frozen inspired!)

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Animals & Complementary - Bagginshield Week Day 3

i know you, i walked with you once upon a dream

Once upon a time, because that is how the best stories start, there was a mighty King of Dwarves, who ruled over the richest and most prosperous of all the Dwarf-Kingdoms in Middle-earth.

(There, love, I should hope that is an auspicious and accurate enough beginning.)

His name was Thror and he was not only rich in gold and jewels, but he was also rich when it came to family.  His son and heir, Crown Prince Thrain, had fallen in love and married a lovely and brave Dwarrowdam who would one day make a worthy Queen.  And they soon presented the old King with a grandson and a new heir, who would be named Thorin, second of the Line of Durin to bear that name. 

Old King Thror adored his little grandson and stole him away so much that his Thrain finally had to complain about it.  “Father, he’s my son - do you think you could let his parents hold their baby for more than just a few moments?”

To which the response was:  “Laddie, if I weren’t afraid you’d drop the wee one on his head, which you almost did, thank you kindly, I’d let you!”

And wee little Thorin finally settled the matter because he was rather fond of his grandfather’s braids and wailed loudly when he couldn’t wind his tiny fist around that lock of hair. 

(Well, love, I heard that story from the highest of authorities at the moment.  You’ll need to take this up with Balin, if you want to grumble about it.)

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