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frodo-cinnamonroll · 1 year

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Deeper than Fate (Part 2)

Prompt/request: **read part 1 first** As requested by @almost-gabrielle: Frodo wakes up the next night (after part 1) and feels pain while his wound is closing. It hurts him too much so that Y/N goes to get Lord Elrond so he can ease the pain in his shoulder. Frodo asks Y/N to stay with him until morning comes again.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: wounds/injuries, some trauma and fluff

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“Could it be?”

I felt a gentle touch on my cheek, light but warm. Opening my eyes, I saw Frodo, the little halfling I had aided, looking down on me. My head rested on his bedside and I sat in the wooden chair I last remembered being in. I had fallen asleep.

Frodo pulled his hand back as soon as I opened my eyes, wonder in his eyes but also something close to pain.

“You’re awake,” I said, sitting up. “How do you feel?”

Frodo stuttered for a moment. “You are the one in my dream.”

“Dream?”

“What happened?”

I sighed. “You were attacked by one of the Nine, their leader. The blade almost killed you. Had it not been for Elrond you would not have survived.”

“Elrond? Like the Elf from Bilbo’s tales?”

“Yes.”

“You know Bilbo?”

“Of course,” I said with a smile. “He talks of you a lot. I’ve stayed here in Rivendell for the past two or three months and I knew him quite well before then. I am fond of halflings.”

“But . . . how?” Frodo said. “You were in the dream. After . . . after I was stabbed everything seemed hazy and I couldn’t tell whether I was awake or asleep or worse. But you were there, shining as you are now, in the moonlight. Who are you? An elf?”

“Half-elf,” I said. “I’m Aragorn’s sister. I am adopted, mind you, but we are siblings nonetheless.”

“Aragorn?”

“Ah, right. He goes by many names. I believe you call him Strider.”

“Strider! Is he here?”

“I do not know.”

“What is your name?”

“You are full of questions,” I said with a small laugh. “And rightly so considering all that has happened. My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Frodo repeated. “I like that.”

I smiled again, looking at the halfling in admiration.

Frodo shifted and winced, his hand going up to his shoulder.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

“Like fire on the inside,” Frodo said, taking a breath.

A shadow suddenly passed over the open balcony, an owl swooping low and landing on a tree nearby. Frodo flinched and his eyes widened.

“You have nothing to fear here, Frodo,” I said. “You are safe in Rivendell.”

Frodo said nothing and seemed to be shaking. He seemed dazed with a sudden surge of pain. He let his head fall back on his pillow with uneven breaths.

“Frodo?” I said, looking at his face.

“It hurts,” Frodo said in a strained voice. He moaned softly and tears ran down his cheeks.

I placed my hand on his forehead. He seemed warmer than normal.

“Will you let me look at it?” I said.

Frodo managed a nod.

I pulled back his shirt and reached for the bandage. “This might hurt a little,” I said. As gently as I possibly could, I pulled off the bandage but some of it stuck to the raw wound itself and Frodo let out a cry.

“I’m so sorry!” I said, leaving the rest of the bandage. I didn’t have the heart to finish. I stood. “I am going to find Master Elrond. I will be back soon.”

Quickly, I dashed out of the room and found Elrond’s. He was sitting in his library, pouring over a book and some maps.

“Master Elrond!” I said, bowing.

He looked up and smiled. “Y/N, what is it?”

“It’s the halfling. He is awake but in much pain.”

Elrond face became more solemn and he stood with a nod and followed me back to the room. Frodo lay there as he was before. It was now that I noticed the Ring on the chain around his neck. I paid it no heed after that, however. Elrond bent over Frodo and put his hand on his head as I had. Frodo watched him with wide eyes. Elrond gently continued pulling the bandage off. Frodo let out another cry followed by more tears and he reached for Elronds arm with his right one. His left one was still limp. I sat on the bed and grasped his hand in mine.

“It’s going to be alright,” I said. “Elrond is helping you. There is only a little left.”

Frodo whimpered, still stricken by the pain that wasn’t easing. “Please” was all he could manage to say.

I picked him up in my arms and held his head to my chest.

“Shh,” I said, rocking a little. “It will be alright.”

Elrond finished pulling the bandage off and brought some of the oils he had used earlier. He gently applied them, Frodo still grimaced and flinched, but he didn’t fight. As Elrond finished, he whispered an elvish blessing over Frodo and the halfling relaxed. Finally, it was done and Elrond applied another bandage.

“You will be alright Master Baggins,” he said. “Your wound is healing quicker than I had thought. The poison is still leaving the wound. That is what is causing you all this pain. But it should be closed and healed by tomorrow. This is the last bandage you will need.”

“Thank you,” Frodo whispered. I could tell he was fighting the exhaustion. “You are welcome,” Elrond said with a small bow. “Get some rest for tomorrow.” He nodded once in respect and left the room.

I looked at Frodo who sat up, leaning against me. His eyelids were getting heavy.

“I should probably leave now.” I said quietly.

Frodo stirred. “No, please stay,” he said.

“I won’t be a bother to you. You need rest.”

“I will rest better if you are here,” Frodo said. “I know I have only just met you but I am fond of you already.”

I shook my head with a smile. “I am fond of you too. Alright, then. But you must rest. No more talking.”

Frodo nodded, laying his head on my chest. Almost instantly his eyes were closed and he relaxed fully, a small smile on his face. I caressed his curly hair, kissing his head gently.

“Gandalf was right,” I whispered, smiling to myself. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

And there I sat until morning came, with someone who was brought to me by something deeper than Fate.

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from-lothlorien-to-helms-deep · 2 years

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A random, contextless snippet from that one Haldir-lives fic I never finished:

He set the cup on the stool to kneel beside the cot, looking gently into the semi-opened eyes. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

“…a thousand orcs…attacked me…” Aragorn leaned closer to catch the airy words, his face flooded with confusion and worry.

Eyelashes fluttered, gaze refocused. A lopsided smile formed on the bloodless lips. “I feel like crap.”

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elodieunderglass · 3 months

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Horror isekai where Perceiving the Weird Eldritch Thing gets you catapulted into a nightmare labyrinth of puzzle-solving.

I.e Those Who Perceive The Hunt of the Goblin King Must Partake In The Labyrinth and Can Only Be Freed If They Complete It In One Day and One Night. By Fae Law. For Reasons.

But the definition of “perception” clearly needs to be updated because some normal guy simply films the Hunt of the Goblin King Behind Arby’s, and puts it on Facebook -

No, not instagram or TikTok, it’s important that it be Facebook -

Because the rules are pretty clear, “the rules are the rules” as is carved ominously in elvish runes above the grim gate, and the Contract is Sealed. and so therefore the guy and 25 of their most random real-life acquaintances must run the gauntlet together. It’s Some Guy, their immediate neighbors, their first partner’s mom, their friends from hobby Facebook groups (oh this poor guy and their hobbies; the elderly birdwatchers from Facebook and the young up-and-coming drag king community), their random teen kid niece, college friends, a dog who also watched the video, a couple consisting of a woman who is the guy’s Facebook friend and showed her husband the video, and the husband doesn’t even know Some Guy, so he’s in the labyrinth and absolutely furious about being forced to be involved, and they proceed to break up over the course of the puzzle.

It’s important that the narrative keeps trying to be a sexy dark horror isekai! but within this the comedic reality of Catherine, 52, the guy’s horse-riding instructor, being passionately involved in escape-room-style puzzle solving and grappling with minor goblins. They are in fact speedrunning the gauntlet.

The Goblin King finally has to say: all right, actually, I only really set all this up to fuck with one (1) guy at a time, thanks for your willingness to participate, but I think all 25 of you can consider the gauntlet fully run.

And the group would be quite hurt by that. The rules are the rules. We have a contract, actually. Let Catherine cook.

#this feels extremely like… 2015 tumblr to me #but it also feels a sort of comforting honesty in this time #thank you for giving me this safe space #this plot idea just feels like some kind of nostalgia . to me.#writing it out I felt like I knew it was unfashionably written AND YET #I was thinking last night about how Stranger Things works quite #well because it’s set in the 80s… it is load-bearing that it be set in the 80s… it’s plot relevant and worldbuilding #well for some reason this plot has to be set pre-pandemic post-impact-text-memes

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reviewpri · 2 years

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I came to think that Galadriel´s bullies followed her all the way to Middle Earth from Valinor

Remember these evil elvish children?

maybe they grown up to be the same soldiers rebelleing against Galadriel´s leadership...and the same ones berating her on the ship?

#crack #rings of power #elvish bullies #poor galadriel #I would too jump ship than spending eternity around my bullies

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iamnotshazam · 4 months

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acidentally plunged myself into the idea that Arwen, daughter of First Age survivor Elrond and poor sweet Celebrían, granddaughter of Middle-earth's OG elvish battle-queen Artanis "I Possibly Took Part in All Three Kinslayings and All I Got Was a Loving Husband" Galadriel, and a long-time seasoned traveler between Rivendell and Lothlórien, has all the exact same incredible wilderness survival and combat skills as Aragorn

but nobody in Minas Tirith realizes this until, one afternoon when the Queen is inexplicably late to some court function, a vaguely familiar mud-splattered walking clod of earth dances up to Elessar Telcontar I, King of the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor, and he sighs and lets the apparition kiss him on the cheek.

"I thought I saw one of the mearas and grew distracted," the Thing says to him, sheepishly. It scrapes a bit more mess off of its face and reveals grey eyes that are still not-quite mortal.

"You should have known, then, that you wouldn't be able to catch it," the King says back, clearly teasing.

The eldritch ball of dirt that grew legs and walked into court giggles and twines a curl of something that might have once resembled long shining dark hair around its finger. It now resembles nothing so much as seaweed that somehow took on the quality of Ithilien topsoil. "I am back in time to clean up before dinner, at least."

"Well, at least your priorities are in the correct order, dear," the King says. And with that the amalgam of woman and wilderness gathered from at least half the length of the Pelennor Fields turns and goes to Queen Arwen's chambers to order a bath.

the military leader the King was just speaking with: "hey sir what the Fuck"

"oh that's Strider's wife, don't mind her"

#arwen #aragorn #aragorn elessar #tolkien #lotr #elrond #celebrian #galadriel #aragorn and arwen both smiling fondly: get you a spouse who can do Both

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southern-gothic-comic · 5 months

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Page 42

Next 💜 Back 🖤 First

(Author Notes)

Panel 1: Finally, Relvin returns with the country doctor, a tired-looking woman of late middle age. She does a cursory examination of Imogen, who can hear her thoughts (as well as everyone else’s) the entire time.

Doctor: Another one. There’s the rash all right. Throat inflamed. Fever. Same symptoms. Don’t know how I’m going to find the time.

Relvin: She’s got to get better -- wonder what it’ll cost -- got a little put by -- poor kid hate to see her lookin’ so done in -- should crop off all that hair of hers it’s sappin’ her strength -- pity though

Laudna: What’s wrong what’s wrong with Imogen can it be cured? Is she all right? Is she in pain? Is she going to die? She looks so miserable what can I do to help?

Panel 2: Focus on Laudna, who is looking worried and uncomfortable. Everyone’s thoughts cloud around her, although only Imogen can hear them.

Doctor: So this is the one everyone’s calling “witch” and saying is the start of it all. I don’t put much stock in wild tales but she seems to have some malady, all right. Don’t have time for it now.

Relvin: how to ask that one to leave maybe if I offer to see her home that’ll get the point across

Laudna: Maybe I did cause this and I just didn’t realize it should I leave I don’t want to leave her I can’t lose her she’s all I have —

Imogen: Laudna. Laudna, it’s okay.

Laudna: Delilah did you do this Delilah if you’ve harmed Imogen -- don’t say things like that don’t start shut up SHUT UP DELILAH

Panel 3: Imogen cuddles up to Laudna as she moves to sit next to her. Rising, the doctor gives Relvin the diagnosis. Lost in his thoughts, he is caught off-guard.

Laudna: Do you need anything, darling?

Imogen: Just you.

Doctor: Despite what y’all may have heard in town, there’s no hexin’ at work. Just a nasty outbreak of scarlet fever makin’ the rounds. She’ll need care. Which of you will be providing it?

Relvin: What even is she she don’t look fey or elvish exactly but there’s something not quite right about her kind of unsettling to see Genny hangin’ on her like that all the time I mean I’m glad my lonely girl’s finally found a friend but did it have to be that friend wonder what kinda grave did she dig her up out of shoot is Imogen readin’ my mind right now???

Panel 4: Relvin hastily steps forward and raises his hand.

Laudna: I will!

Relvin: Now, we wouldn’t want to impose on you. I thank you for your kind offer, but I’ll see you home now, little lady.

Imogen: No! Don’t go, Laudna.

Doctor: It’s probably best if all you three quarantine together.

Relvin: All right. You know best, Doctor.

Relvin, internally: Dammit.

Panel 5: Laudna hugs Imogen, cheered up by the prospect of quarantine together, which provokes a wan smile from her.

Laudna: Oh, a sleepover!

#critical role #critical role fanart #critical role comic #imogen temult #laudna #relvin temult #imodna #southerngothic #imogen x laudna #comics #mintywolf #a long road home

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carrinth · 7 months

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Did you notice how many gifts are *books* in Awakening?? Either our poor Warden-Commander was running out of gift ideas or was passively encouraging the formation of a Grey Warden book club.

Vigil's Keep Book Club! With Nat as honorary member.

Fun fact: Justice was apparently Most Prolific Reader of VKBC with a grand total of 3 books! (Well 2 books and an elvish scroll but it counts!)

#dragon age stuff #grey wardens of vigil's keep #vigil's keep book club #like I know Wynne also got books but Warden Commander was gifting books to almost ALL of their Awakening companions XD #Justice got the most books #Fade Spirit likes books about the Fade go figure #DA2 Anders should have been an avid bookworm haha

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writingoddess1125 · 6 months

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hiya!

Could you do Prince Nuada from Hellboy 2 and reader?

This one has taken me a while- Also thank you for reigniting the LOVE I had for Prince Nuada! Ugh! So sexy!!

I do hope this is to your liking since it did take some warping.

1. I gotta keep Nuada and Nuala alive so the ending didn't happen

2. Introduce elements from the comics aka Hellboy had adopted siblings.

OKAY ENJOY! I TRIED HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Half Breed

Prince Nuada x FemReader

Support me on Ko-Fi I'm poor!

After the fortunately failed suicide attempt from Nuala which had horribly injured both twins- Nuafa had been captured and the two rushed back to the Bureau for emergency treatment, Which fortunately allowed the Elves to survive the whole ordeal.

Nuada had been placed in custody of B.P.R.D first as a high level prisoner for many months after his attempt to wipe out humanity.

After being in solitary confinement for far too long a deal was struck with him to work for the organization due to his knowlege of the world and to get out of solitary help all that had been damaged.

He had agreed- begrudgingly and because Nuala insisted.. it had been nearly a year of this all- When something interesting took place.

Nuala and Abe walked down the corridors together, talking about recent books they had shared before Abe paused.

"Oh?-" He looked around calmly before seeing the warning lights come down shining blue instead of the normal red for emergencies.

"Is there an emergancy?" Nuala questioned, a bit nervous of what it could mean, But Abe gently touched her shoulder with his gloved hand.

"No no- Just a old friend. Everytime she visits her and Red play a.. Game of sorts like tag" Abe explained, Nuala smiling at hearing this. Nuada who had just returned from a mission turned the corner seeing his sister and the fish man, frowning but looking to the lights.

"Whats this?" He asked shortly, Abe repeating his answer from before.

"Warning lights for a Game?" He questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Well they are only allowed to have this game once a year and for 5 minutes- mainly due to the property damage that always happens" Abe said truthfully as the elven twins looked surprised by this. A childish game causing property damage?

As if right on cue there was a loud crash the trio turning to see Hellboy running full force in their direction like a train.

"MOVE MOVE!" He yelled loudly, as he ran past them. This was the fastest any of them had seen him run even in a life or death situation, right as he was about to turn the corner a black boot came barrowing down on the side of his cheek, knocking him to the ground hard before the smaller figure ran down the hall Red had just gone through.

"You're it!" She yelled and the trio watched- There running past was a women. Dressed in all black leather tactical gear with her silver hair in a long braid, the ends a sunset gold- (Y/S/C) skin with unique etchings found in only elvish culture paired with amber eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure see what she was-

"Timer Abe!" She yelled, Abe looking to the small watch he carried.

"4 minutes and 26 seconds left- Also happy youve returned safely" He called out to (Y/N) who dashed down the hallway.

Nuada eyes widened as he couldnt help but follower her with his gaze, something about her drew him in. The trio sticking to the walls as they tried to follow the action- it was like a massive battle taking black between a giant and a tiny titan. While Red was slamming into walls cracking cement with his weight and arm- (Y/N) was doing flips and hung to the light fixtures above to keep an advantage.

"Happy to see you too!!!"

He could only describe himself as being mesmerized by her.. Every turn, giggle and jump just seemed to bewitch him and it terrified him.. It wasn't till a loud alarm snapped him his gaze making him jump a bit in surprise- the game was over it seemed and Hellboy returned with his sister, the demon clearly glum from losing.

Nuala eyes widened as she watched (Y/N) jump around Hellboy with a happy smile at winning the game. Figuring what she was but disbelieving of course even after this entire endeavor. A leath-fola. A Half-Blood Actually existed in this world? The embodiment of a union between a human and one of his own kind-

"I win Red! So that's 28 for me and 25 for you. Best luck next you!" She said cheerfully as Hellboy grumbled and pushed her head away with his small hand.

"Yada Yada short stack-"

She noticed the looks of the two meeting their gazes and Nuada immediately felt his heart beat pick up- Confused by the sensation he glanced to Nuala assuming it must be her however she seemed calm and relaxed.

"New Agents?" She questioned looking at the twins, Abe nodding with a 'smile'

"Prince Nuada of the Bethmora clan.. This here is my sister Princess Nuala" He introduced both formally, watching how her smile seemed to radiate as he spoke. It made him feel like he had had stepped into the sun for the first time in years..

"It's lovely to meet you both! It's so lovely to have new faces here in the facility" She said cheerfully, reaching out in a friendly matter and patting both twins on the shoulders.

It felt like Nuada had been shocked by the most pleasant bit of electricity that left him flustered and confused. His sister finally glancing at him as she felt his emotions and gaze a smile, a twinkle of what could only be described as mischief in her golden gaze.

"Yes.. new faces... now if you'll excuse me" Nuada said quickly before dismissing himself- trying to control the panic that was eating him on the inside and the warmth that bloomed in his body. He practically ran back to the space he was forced to call a room and lock himself inside. Nuada stood in his room pacing back and forth. His mind racing and heart uneasy- unknowingly for hours as he tried to calm himself from the sudden feelings that seemed to slam into him.

A knock on the door bringing him from his thoughts as he quickly opened the door, surprised to see his sister standing there in a evening gown.

"Sister, what are you doing up? You should be resting.." He said softly, allowing Nuala into the room.

"I can not rest with you so worked up brother" Nuala said softly. The prince sighing as he realized he had kept her up and took a seat on the corner of the bed, Nuala sitting next to him as well.

"Well- It sounds like she is your fated partner" She pointed out and Nuada immediately felt anger in his blood.

"You're thinking about the leath-fola (Y/N)? Right?" Nuala said softly as she rubbed her brothers shoulder to comfort him. He frowned at being so obvious and also for the form of comfort.

"Yes- She... makes me uneasy" He says, lying a bit to avoid the words he wanted to use. Nuala smiling at this.

"Do not speak such foolish things-" He hissed, Nuala flinching at his harsh words.

"I am not fated to a mortal of all beings" He started but Nuala held up a hand.

"She is not a mortal however brother.. You saw" Nuada was ready to argue but couldnt- his face twisting up.. The damn half-breed was not his fated partner NOR was it going to be the siblings of the demon.

He would prove it...

For the first few weeks that (Y/N) was there, Nuada had been rude and snide. Hissing insults about her mixed blood, shoving past her or even straight up ignoring her. He expected she would take the abuse since she didnt say anything about it but he had been wrong- so terribly wrong.

It took only one time calling her "Dirty" in terms of her blood to get the hardest punch he had ever taken to the nose- It made his eyes water and fall to a knee infront of her..

She grabbed his silver hair and pulled him close so they were eye to eye-

"Listen here- Keep insulting me like this and I'm going to tear your ass a new one. I don't give a Flying fuck if your a price or whatever- I will fuck you up" She hissed at him-

Nuada felt more confused then he ever had before- The pain seemingly going with the fluttering warmth he felt in his face and blatant arousal that was Damm near impossible to miss- (Y/N) seeing his widened eyes and the flush of color on his pale face, like he was frozen and her own golden eyes traveled down at noticing some new movement.

"O-Oh-" Was all she said- Clearly just as surprised as Nuada was at this point. Her fingers carefully releasing his silver hair as warmth went to her own cheeks.

Nuada wanted a blade to the heart at this point...

#x reader #hellboy #Hellboy Golden Army #prince nuada #Princess Nuala #hellboy 2 the golden army #hellboy 2004 #abe sapien #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #dark elf #elf x reader #half elf #teratophile #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster fudger

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sachiko1309 · 7 months

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Let the poor woman come

Summary: some smut, but not too detailed, a surprise visit ;)

Generally this is just some short drabble from my story "The prophecy of the elvish warrior - a Haldir love story" which ccan be found on Wattpad and Ao3 (account name in my tumbler description) have fun with it 😉🥰

Word count: 1164

Warnings: smut, threesome, female orgasm, surprise visit from the elven daddy himself 😉 (but its mostly our blond warriors) Minors DNI !!!

Translation: hûn nin = my heart

I was completely bare between the two men. After our talk with Thranduil, they proceeded to rid me of my clothes and now here I was. Sitting on Haldirs lap, his cock deeply sheathed into my core, my legs spread by his strong thighs. Legolas kneeling in front of me, edging me. I was a quivering mess, sweat and slick sticking to my body, but it didn’t look like either of the elves cared. Haldir had stopped thrusting into me, just relishing my twitching pussy around his cock, leaving it up to Legolas to pull another orgasm from my body.

“So beautiful.” He murmured in my ear. “Do you like Legolas making you cum, meleth?” I let out another strangled moan, when Legolas finger danced over my clit. “Answer us, meleth. Tell us how good we make you feel.” Haldir pressed on, gripping my hips tighter, when I clenched around his cock. “Good!” I whined. “So good…”

A knock on the door interrupted us. “Yes?” Legolas answered, his voice sounding like he didn’t just finger me. To my fearful surprise the door opened and closed again. A light ‘thump’ indicated someone leaned against the wooden frame. Luckily the room we stayed in was rounding a corner, so from where the door was placed, you were unable to see the fireplace and bed. Legolas lips contorted in a devilish smile, when he started to stroke my clit again. From behind Haldir snuck a hand around my mouth to keep me from making a sound.

“I wondered…” My eyes went wide, when I realized it was Thranduil, who was standing there. “… whether it would be possible for you to help me organize a few things regarding the kingdom.” Slowing down his movement, to keep me from cumming, Legolas answered: “Of course, Adar. What exactly needs to be discussed?” The elven king sighted. “Ah just the way we intend to keep our borders safe. The war has strained our armies and as far as I am concerned the spiders did not seem to have gained as many casualties as we did.”

My muffled cry, forced Thranduil to stop mid explanation, but after a few seconds he kept on talking: “As well I want to show my apology by inviting you, Haldir and Visha to Mirkwood. I guess since the three of you are content to make this relationship work, I might as well invite her and the Commander to Mirkwood.”

“See it as done, Adar.” Legolas answered, not letting my face out of his sight. I was now twitching and panting from how close my orgasm was and I wondered why Thranduil didn’t pick on the tension and noises in the room. But my hopes were soon shattered on the ground, when the king spoke again: “Thank you, my son.” I heard him turn around, opening the door. “Ah and another thing. Let the poor woman cum. I am afraid the whole realm is yearning for her release.” Legolas chuckled between my legs, signaling for Haldir to take away his hand. “I will. Don’t worry.” Then, he circled my clit with the uttermost sinful touch, he ever used, pushing me over the edge. Even though I didn’t hear Thranduil leave the room, I couldn’t help myself. A loud moan, ripping from my chest, ringing through the room.

“Thank you.” Was the last thing I heard, before the door fell into its hinges. The sound shuttering through my body, freeing the insanity of what just happened.

“I fucking hate you!” I exclaimed. My breath still irregular. Legolas got up from his knees. “No, you love us.”

“Why did you do this? He is your father!” I asked, feeling something between arousal and embarrassment. “I will never be able to look him in the eye!” This had Legolas smirk again. “He was the one, prying on our intimate life. I guess he got what he wanted. Besides don’t tell me, you didn’t like it. I could see it in your eyes. The fear of being caught just went straight to your filthy little pussy, didn’t it?”

I gasped at his boldness, unsure what to say. He was right. I enjoyed the thrill of it, but I didn’t expect him to be this bold.

“Don’t worry hûn nin*. My father was never one to let people go against his believes and rules. If he really had a problem of engaging us in this situation, he would have waited. You know, elven hearing can be a big asset deciding whether to enter a room or not.” Legolas smiled at me, making his way to the bed, ridding him from the rest of his clothes.

Then he proceeded to take a seat on the broad bed in front of us. “Ride him.” Was all he said, slowly stroking his hard cock in his hand. I was stunned at his sudden change in demeanor. Legolas wasn’t usually the one to overtake Haldir in extruding dominance, but sometimes there were slight glimpses of the princes’ natural power slipping through. “What?” My voice was hoarse and thin of breath. Tilting his head to the side Legolas lips twisted into a cocky smile. “You heard my father. You are to be queen of Mirkwood at my side. Now show your commander what his queen likes. Take him as you please.”

I froze on the spot unsure of what to do. My brain reeling from the change of pace in the room. The newly found power sending butterflies through my stomach. Haldirs warm hand on my back startled me back into reality. I could feel him shuffle underneath me. Sliding towards the edge of the chair and leaning back. “Go on little starlight. Ride me. I am yours to take. Your throne to sit on. Well to be honest I would rather have you use my face as your throne, but this will do for now.”

His words had Legolas chuckle: “You see how eager the Commander is to please his queen? You are a natural.” “Both of you need an ego check.” I grumbled. “You are having way to much fun, teasing me like that and then throw me into cold water.”

Underneath me Haldir leaned forward, his lips brushing over my shoulder. “Would you rather have me rail you on the floor to Legolas feet?” Him growling into my ears, send goosebumps over my whole body and I involuntarily started to shiver.

Desperately trying to gain my stance back, I straightened up, forcing as much power into my voice that I could muster. “No. I am just fine.” Still unsure about what to do, I started to roll my hips in circular motions, as I was not able to do much more, since my feet barely touched the ground. But by the groaning noises coming from Haldir I was doing good. Following Legolas order, I completely focused on my own pleasure, riding my husband in the most sensual and deep way I ever did.

Taglist: gt13tbbart

#lotr #haldir smut #legolas smut #fem reader #threes0me #smut #haldir x reader x legolas #legolas #haldir #thranduil #haldir of lorien #legolas greenleaf

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chemtrailsoverthesun · 3 months

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A thread of parallels between Elia Martell and Sansa Stark:

1. Elia is the older sister to Oberyn. Sansa is the eldest stark sister.

Art by Melrosing

2. They are both described as gentle.

"Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit.” - Daenerys

“Was there ever a wedding less joyful? she wondered until she remembered her poor Sansa and her marriage to the Imp. Mother take mercy on her. She has a gentle soul.” - Catelyn

Art by elvishness & vesubia-jugorum

3. Both were excited to leave their home.

"Elia found it all exciting. She was of that age, and her delicate health had never permitted her much travel.” - Tyrion

“She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell… off to see the great wide world.” - Sansa

Art by the-lady-rae

4. Both were betrothed to the crown prince.

“Early in the year 279 AC, Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, was formally betrothed to Princess Elia Martell” - TWOIAF

“She had to wed Joffrey, they were betrothed, he was promised to her, she had even dreamed about it.” - Sansa

Art by amaati

5. Elia and Sansa were both held as hostages by Mad kings.

“The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad.” - Jaime

“They have Sansa hostage, and they mean to keep her." - Catelyn

6. Cersei blames them both for taking someone from her- Rhaegar and Joffrey.

“It had to have been the madness that led Aerys to refuse Lord Tywin's daughter and take his son instead, whilst marrying his own son to a feeble Dornish princess with black eyes and a flat chest.” -Cersei

"I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf…She helped murder my son.” - Cersei

7. Elia and Sansa witnessed the death of a family member in front of them, both pleaded for their loved one to be spared.

“Princess Elia of Dorne pleading for mercy as Rhaegar's heir was ripped from her breast and murdered before her eyes.” - Daenerys

“Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father." - Arya

8. Both were romantics.

“A pretty lad, and my sister was half in love with him.” - Tyrion

“I love him, Father, I truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian.” - Sansa

Art by the-lady-rae

9. Victims of the Lannisters.

“Some said it had been Gregor who'd dashed the skull of the infant prince Aegon Targaryen against a wall, and whispered that afterward he had raped the mother, the Dornish princess Elia, before putting her to the sword.” - Tyrion

“When I displease him, he has the Kingsguard beat me. He's evil and cruel, my lady, it's so. And the queen as well." - Sansa

Art by amaati

Conclusion: Both deserved better

Art by Elia illustration

#elia martell #asoiaf #sansa stark #a song of ice and fire

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esculentevil · 1 year

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(Thorinduil ABO’verse AU) Heatwear: Dressed to Dine

((Part 2 of Thorin discovering the specifics of Elven clothes for Omegas in Heat via Thranduil.)) ((If you’re interested, you can read Part 1 HERE/HERE; or just head over to AO3 to read both!))

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆💎Pillowfort🌲☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆

Delivering Mirkwood’s agreed upon quota of mithril went smoothly after that.

The heavy chest that was almost too large for him to carry looks near dainty laying in the forest king’s long hand, its maw wide and insides being poked and prodded by elegant and tapered fingers. They are painted petal pink, too; and, again, Thorin envisions them differently: dark, matte blue--near velvet in its look--with variously sized white diamonds (like the ones he remembers being offered the first time he stood at his grandfather’s side to welcome the elven delegation: he still has no idea why his father and the king taunted the Elfking with them; but, he is king, now, and it is his right to decide what is done with them all...) skillfully arranged to bring the sky, itself, down upon the elf’s delicate digits.

A possessive growl almost escapes him as he dares to picture it:

Him; completing the Crown of Durin on Thranduil’s thumb.

It scintillates gaily under the brilliance of his elf’s smile.

He is shown to a room shortly after that.

It is high up, which makes him uncomfortable, but crafted of solid stone (truly: not even the roots of trees can be seen as they so often are elsewhere here) with geometric detailing that--while still clearly elvish in their manner and make--feels remarkably similar to the rooms of his home. There is even no window--indeed: no access to the outdoors at all--and a square-shaped fireplace blazing brightly in the corner of the surprisingly, and sharply, rectangular room.

Thorin allows his eyebrows to lift up and his eyes to gaze around appreciatively.

There are two straight-backed and straight-lined armchairs flanking the fire with a low-laying and equally rectangular table sitting between them. A large jug and matching mug awaits him, there, and--when he approaches--he finds the first filled with water and the second filled with a humble offering of honey mead (which, if Thorin remembers correctly, is the closest the elves have to beer).

He accepts the offering as he observes the rest of the room.

This is a dayroom, Thorin realizes, as he notes the long bench along the wall farthest from the entrance which is just as straight-lined as everything else and laden with old books in Common Speech and an excessive amount of furs. They’re all folded neatly and stacked atop each other like blankets in a closet--which, at first, seemed almost laughable to the Dwarfking; but, then he thought about it and he realized it is actually a very sweet gesture: elves, Thorin knows, do not feel the cold; the outside world does not effect them and so they are pure and untouched in ways unfathomable to mere mortals like him; which means, likely, they might know that humans and dwarrows use furs and fires for warmth but not really understand how much of either they will actually need or use.

So, the elves simply provide as much as possible so he wants for nothing.

Thorin hums to himself thoughtfully as he sips the mead (a bit too sweet but hearty and heavy and hopsy) and runs a rough hand along the top book’s cover (made, interestingly, of sheep skin and entirely blank beyond a single symbol that looks like a line with a curl coming out of its left side at the low center) while reading the spine: the symbol, again, followed by yet more elegant curls. Completely unintelligible, of course, as he is a dwarf and never learned Elvish; but, sticking out of the bottom of the book is a single braid of silk in solid red surprisingly decorated with a simple bead baring the same symbol as the cover.

Deciding that it’s clearly acting as a marker of some sort, the dwarf rests his mug on the raised arm of the bench and settles himself upon the seat of it, comfortably nestling himself between the stacks of books and furs.

When he opens the offered book--noting to himself that it is literally the only one NOT translated into something he can actually READ, which he finds strange--he finds himself staring at colorful pictures--drawings, really--of delicate elves dressed in long gowns with thick fabrics and flowers on their hair and clothes and NAILS and it clicks, suddenly, what he’s looking at: Omegan Elf Fashion.

Although, he has no idea if it’s from Thranduil or someone else: he takes it, eagerly, as an invitation and browses the book until he’s summoned for dinner.

“I hope your rooms are to your liking,” Thranduil greets him with a gentle smile, voice soft and sweet, and lips still wet and a bit too red from all his wine sipping.

Thorin swallows and nods in affirmation, his confidence wavering just a little bit as he’s led into what appears to be a very private and personal dinning room. There is only the one table standing in the center of it, flanked by two chairs, and Thranduil is already occupying one with a bejeweled flute chalice in his hand (which, Thorin notes with a tightening of his lower belly, bares even more gray smudges of graphite than it had when he first arrived--almost as though the elf had SEEN the dwarf’s interest in the dusting and decided to ENTERTAIN it).

He sips it elegantly as he smiles, stardust eyes shining ethereally with pleasure although Thorin’s certain he could make them shine even brighter in bed togeth--as he waves one of those long, gray-dusted hands at the chair across from him.

Whether he knows what Thorin is thinking or not, the dwarf doesn’t know; but he’s certain there’s a smugness to that smile, now, as he embarrassedly sits across from the elf in the seat designed specially for one of his short stature. Their eyes meet across the table as silent elves pour in from a side door and laden the dinning table with--to Thorin’s delight and surprise--grilled salmon, various potato-based side dishes, and a very large--very sliced--roasted turkey. The dwarf gapes at the cooked bird, a bit lost, “I thought elves didn’t...?”

Thranduil, however, only smiles and accepts a few slices of the animal’s breast (cut, of course, by one of the servers), “We do not kill our fellow fauna, no; but we DO eat them when they die naturally and we have reason to use their body.”

“Use their body?” Thorin asks, eagerly accepting his own offered slices of bird. He lets the serving elves add a fish and a spoonful of each side dish, as well, before taking the proffered stein of honey mead from the elf that stoked the fire blazing in a wrought iron cage, designed like a tree stump with entwining vines to take advantage of its woodgrain-like texture, left just to the side of him; again, ensuring he wants nothing for warmth even at the cost of seeming excessive.

“We took the feathers for our potions, quills, decorations, pillows, and quilts; bones for our needlework, crochet hooks, utensils, beads, and other potions; legs and beak for yet more potions--although, sometimes for bowls and utensils, too--and, since this is a male turkey, the caruncle for our suppressants.”

Thorin pauses in his half-listening and half-eating to almost choke on breast. “Su-suppressants?!” He clears his throat and almost scowls up at Thranduil and his amused giggles (almost because, blast-it, the elf is just so CUTE like this). “W-what suppressants??? You are clearly NOT--!!!”

“I am home, mell Thorin,” Thranduil softly interjects and Thorin slams his mouth shut so fast is almost hurts, “Where I am safe and you will not likely be long; and, thus, I am not inclined to take things that will only mask what I really am: there is no shame in being Omega, no risk beyond mild distraction in my Heat, so--if I am not travelling to, say, Erebor--why bother taking suppressants?”

There’s a lump in the dwarf’s throat that dries his mouth and leaves him restless. He may not know much about Omegas--rarer, even, than the females of his kin--but he does know that look Thranduil’s giving him and the meaning of his words: TRUST.

The Elvenking TRUSTS that Thorin will not do anything to him during his Heat: Thranduil does not think he needs to be on suppressants because he TRUSTS Thorin will not succumb to its summons, enter his Rut, or take advantage of it.

This thought is silently confirmed when Thorin realizes they are entirely alone: there aren’t even GUARDS stationed within the room--though there are probably without--and Thranduil is (seemingly--one never knows with a literal war god...) entirely weaponless before him. True: the dwarfking can’t take him down alone; but, at one point, Thorin had, in fact, hated Thranduil enough to at least TRY; and this isn’t something any elf would not KNOW or FORGET, so...

“And... if I were to stay long?” the king of Erebor unsurely asks, eyes wide and dark with SOMETHING as the lump in his throat remains thick no matter what.

Thranduil’s eyes practically GLOW as they light up with joy; and, as he leans in over his food and the dining table and the lone candle Thorin only now notices, his long snow-white hair slips over his broad shoulders and brings to attention the abnormally tall and closed neck of Thranduil’s thick and pink adorned dress which does naught but send Thorin’s mind SPIRALING with wanton desire and NEED to MARK and CLAIM and OWN that hidden skin so it--and the Elvenking--is HIS; “Then, I would simply enjoy finally being able to show you my home~”

((Tagging @elithilanor again since you seem to be enjoying the ABO’verse headcanons and, well, still Duil with pink nails--tho Thorin’s got plans for those turning starry night blue soon--but, of course, just let me know if you want the tags to stop cuz I know you’re not into this ship.))

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lovelybrooke · 1 month

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Of all the Yandere, who do you think could work together to have Reader to themself ?

Like, obv Laezel and Shadowheart would not work together

I feel like Wyll and Karlach would but i feel that they would mostly just help eachother to protect Reader

Gale and Astarion would be pretty funny together but Astarion would be funny with everyone

So I think I talked about this a while ago, but they most definetly work together.

All the companions work together eventually, but before they open up more about their obsession, they have kinda hidden alliances. Karlach and Wyll defiantly work together, since they work so well together. I think they both do the best at romancing reader since they're both very open about their feelings for reader.

I was a fanart awhile back that was about Astarion and Shadowheart gossiping in Elvish (is that even what it's called??) and I honestly think it's so on brand for them. Like they constantly talk about reader in a language none of the other companions really understand. I'd think they'd stop though once Halsin joins the party since he's also not quiet about his obsession.

Lae'zel's a little baby and doesn't believe in working together with other people, but also she's just super awkward. Like her customs are much more different than readers and she doesn't want to scare them away with her behavior so she just kinda sulks by herself, poor her.

Gale and Halsin work together, but that's only because they both are just very open. Like Wyll and Karlach are romantic, but they still have some subtlety to them, but Gale and Halsin? No, they both know what they want. I don't know where this idea came from that Gale is some shy baby, but he's actually pretty open and unbothered in game, and doesn't seem to scared about expressing his affections, I just think the way he does so is kinda strange. With Halsin he just is too old for subtly. He just doesn't see the point in dancing around his feelings like that. So in my mind, these two only really work together because they both don't give a shit about being subtle, if that makes sense.

Eventually they do all start working together, but that takes a while.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #baulders gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #yandere bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3

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taki-yaki · 1 month

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Draconic Sorcerer Tav Headcanons

not an anon request this time but this was sitting on my wip for ages so I'll put it out now. Hope my fellow draconic sorcerer/dragonborn(?) fans.

As a draconic sorcerer, the blood that runs in your veins is filled to the brim with the magical potency of such grand beasts. The scales that lie across your skin are a clear sign to others of your ancestry.

Despite the power within you, it can’t transform you into a dragon but rather changes the physical appearance of your body, from the tips of your fingers becoming sharp-like claws, to your fangs ready to tear anything or one that stands in your path.

Many upon hearing of such graphic descriptions would tend to avoid your kind, but not Astarion, he’s enamoured with the way you look and act.

Astarion would be interested in your draconic tongue, listening as you speak to Gale and Lae’zel with each syllable hissing off the end of your tongue, akin to a growling beast, in comparison to the soft-spoken tone of elvish that he speaks in.

Later he tries to ask Lae’zel and Gale to teach him some draconic phrases, under the guise of wanting to learn such a uniquely rare language. Gale would attempt to teach him more simple dull phrases whilst Lae’zel would teach him phrases that mainly translated to battle cries. But soon he would tire of the dull lectures. Deciding to just stick to common instead.

After your first night together in the forest during the tiefling party, he would go around bragging about how he got to “ride” a dragon first before poor lae’zel. She’d quickly rebuttal with the threat to slice off his head, lest he continue with his antics.

When he drinks your blood, apart from getting a slight boost to his magic, the flavour changes based on your blood ancestry. acid has a slightly sweet-sour aftertaste, fire has a spicy flare, lighting leaves a jolting taste on his tongue and cold creates a slight tingly numb sensation.

Other elements of your ancestry also affect your day-to-day life, from fire blood making you his personal hot water bottle, full of blood. Or your cold blood, creates a faint aura of ice upon your skin, causing you to have Gale create an enchanted heated blanket to keep you both warm.

Using your wellspring of magic within your body, you attempt to twist the arcane magic that flows in your blood in an attempt to transfer some of your arcana magic into Astarion when he feeds from you. Mainly in the hopes of making him stronger in difficult fights.

However, this backfires causing your blood cells to temporarily produce faster, causing you to get Astarion to help. He does chastise you for doing something dangerous but doesn’t say no to the offer of having seconds of your blood in one day.

A few days later, you learn how to replicate the same spell, but on a lower scale, which assists in not only keeping Astarion well-fed but also stopping the effect of bloodless afterwards.

Some traits that emerge from your ancestry is the habit of hoarding objects, from gold coins to silver plates. Even taking one of Astarion’s spare nightshirts to sleep with much to his annoyance, so he tries to steal things from you in retaliation, which becomes an unspoken agreement between you two.

When your wings finally come through, he tries to help you become used to them, mainly in the hopes that you could fly him around places, eliminating the need to walk around all the time whilst carrying such a heavy pack.

Preening habits also start to be displayed, mainly done in an attempt to impress Astarion. Everyone at camp teases that Astarion has been rubbing off on you, with his usual morning beauty care routine usually holding everyone up some days. He would find this to be cute but attempts to get you to kick the habit, by brushing them for you.

“Darling, I know you want to take care of your wings, but would it kill you to just fix up your hair as well.”

In return, you show your affection by wrapping your wings around him both when you embrace each other, acting as a sort of comfort blanket to both of you.

If you’ve grown out a set of dragon-like claws, he does your nails if they get too sharp, ensuring that you don’t accidentally scratch yourself. And if you have a tail, similarly to tieflings, you would have a habit of wrapping your scaled tail around his leg, which he would endlessly tease you for.

Later on in your relationship, you both give each other unique pet names, you call him your Isk meaning star in your draconic tongue, whilst Astarion in return calls you his miniature dragon.“An elf and a miniature dragon, hmm quite the pair wouldn’t you say love?”

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x durge #astarion headcanons #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3

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foxqueen-katarian · 1 year

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I think Shadowgast deserves a Bridgerton-esque fic in which the Shadowhand Essek Thelyss has finally been pressured by his dear dear Umavi to pick a spouse, and of course he is the catch of the season, and through Regency Era (adjacent) shenanigans he starts a (fake) flirtation with one Caleb Widogast, some poor boy so far below Essek’s own station it’s laughable to even contemplate the match.

But it’s being toted as a Love Match, which means station and etiquette and all that ceases to matter. The entirety of the social set has an opinion on the pair, and are either hoping for a lavish wedding at the end of the season, or a wonderfully public falling out.

Of course Essek fucks up his plans to ruin his own reputation and spare himself the indignity of marriage by actually falling in love with Caleb, and being socially incapable of telling Caleb that.

Caleb of course entered into this agreement with the promise of enough coin to settle himself quite nicely, and a yearly stipend to cover his upkeep for the rest of his (short by elvish standards) life; and has spent the better part of the endeavor having to forcibly remind himself that high ranking lords and ladies don’t actually fall in love with common born adventurers (even ones who carry favor of the Queen).

Obviously they get their shit together and ride off into the sunset, but that’s not the important part, the pining and miscommunication it takes to get there is.

#essek thelyss #caleb widogast #shadowgast #critical role #I’m sick and want someone to tell me a story about my favorite idiots

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that-lazy-snail · 1 year

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Being a fan of Avatar (the movie with blue people) is literally the most exhausting fan experience I've ever had, and I'm a female Star Wars fan, who's favorite Star Wars movie is The Last Jedi.

I'm by no means claiming that the movie is flawless or even "great" but it is by scifi blockbuster standards pretty good. It's no more or less racist than the Star Wars prequels and the writing isn't any worse than the scriptwriting in the Star Wars prequels either, yet it's treated with such disdain among people on the internet that I can't even talk about it without receiving random hateful comments.

I cosplay from the movie, more specifically the new movie and an OC that I designed in 2018. I love the movie, especially the visual elements and the design of the Na'vi and their culture, I think it's a fascinating metaphor for our treatment of indigenous peoples and our planet, I love the themes the film presents. But I'm also aware that it's harmful to indigenous people as well because it promotes a white savior narrative, that it's harmful to disabled people by promoting the narrative that they can't live full lives unless they're normative. I don't deny those problems with the movie, and I have plenty of criticisms of the new film as well. Particularly the use of locks on Jake and Spider, and I saw a video on tiktok complaining about that and I left a comment saying that I really wish they hadn't done that and I thought it was a really poor styling choice since up until that point none of the Na'vi we'd seen have locks so it doesn't logically make sense to give them that hair style. I got quite a bit of response to that comment, some people agreeing with me but largely people were saying, "why do you cosplay it then?" "why do you support it then?" like is it not okay to like things and also have criticism for them? I'm allowed to like things about it and also not like things about it.

I also keep seeing videos saying that Avatar has no cultural impact, that it doesn't have a long lasting fan base despite having lore comparable to Lord of the Rings. Here's the thing with that, it totally does have lore comparable to Lord of the Rings but the fan base can't thrive like LOTR fans or even Star Trek could partially because the internet wasn't a space in the same way then as it was when Avatar came out and the other fact is the sheer amount of shaming and harassment that Avatar fans get. I've seen people leave the fandom because of the hate they received on the internet. They quite literally get bullied out of their enjoyment of the movie. People say that Avatar has no fans, but it's fans are chronically silent and reclusive in our liking of the film for fear of getting harassed. I am part of Facebook groups of that have thousands of members and a very active discord. Avatar fans exist, they just keep low and quiet so as to protect themselves. I know people who speak Na'vi in the same way people speak elvish or klingon, it's just not something we advertise because every time we try to share our enjoyment of the movie we get mean comments or mocking stitches/remixes of our videos, pictures, etc. It's not fun to be a public Avatar fan, it's scary and exhausting.

I love Avatar, Neytiri was one of the first truly strong and inspirational female characters I connected with as a child (I was 9 when the movie came out) and I was fascinated and enthralled with the world of Pandora, as were so many movie goers. I'm so tired of getting railed on for enjoying this movie, or even just the constant ridicule that comes through my feed about it. What happened to the golden rule of if you don't have anything nice to say (or on this case even anything that provides new/valuable commentary/criticism) don't say anything at all?

I'm so sick of hearing the same arguments I've heard a million times about why it's a retread plot of Pocahontas/Dances With Wolves/Ferngully, I've heard it all before, I've seen those movies before and their plots are in myths and any number of other stories, that's not why I love the movie. No amount of people saying that to me will change what I do like about the Avatar. I don't watch Avatar for the plot, I watch it for Pandora, and for the visual spectacle and the world building.

I'm sick of the argument that Avatar's treatment of indigenous voices is somehow worse than any other piece of media written by and for white communities, it's not. Even Avatar the Last Airbender (which is my favorite TV show of all time and is often acclaimed as a great example of native representation) also falls failure to the same mistake of casting white actors in POC roles and changing the narratives of natives to be more easily accepted and understood by white audiences. This is not to say that ATLA doesn't handle its message better than Avatar, but it's important to be aware of the ways in which all media has flaws, even the things we think are less problematic and it's important to acknowledge them and not tear the media down for it, but use it as means to make new media better. Cameron did improve with the Way of Water, he frequently consulted with the Maori tribes he was pulling inspiration from, there's literally articles written by Maori tribe members on it but it is still a white people movie, written by white people for white people so do with that what you will. But don't claim star wars is any better, the prequels were outrageously racist, and they still maintain majority white casts.

The new Avatar movie (the way of water) is not perfect, there are quite a few things I found to be poor choices in regards to cultural sensitivity (aka locks, and casting Kate Winslet as Ronal instead of a Polynesian actress) but it's still better than it's predecessor, and unlike so many people on the internet say, it is not "a bunch of white people playing poc" since neither Zoe Saldana, nor Trinity Jo-Li Bliss, or any of the Metkayina children or Cliff Curtis are white. In fact, Cliff Curtis is Maori, the culture that inspired the Metkayina and many of the extras who play background Na'vi in the films are POC, because in spite of James Cameron's failings, he did want the Na'vi to be played by people of color. Very very few of the Na'vi in the original movie are played by white people, only a few extras with less than 1 minute of screen time and no lines. All the major Na'vi roles were played by people of black and indigenous color. Eytukan was played by a Cherokee native, Mo'at (these people are the two clan leaders) is played by a indigenous woman from Africa and is very black. Zoe Saldana's parents are Dominican and Puerto Rican for god's sake! She is not white. This argument that he casts white people in POC roles is untrue. The Avatars are white cause they're meant to represent the invadors, wolf in sheep's clothing if you will. The Na'vi are bipoc, and they're played by bipoc.

After Avatar, James went to Brazil and became and activist for native communities. He went worked with Brazilian natives fighting the building of a dam over their local river, a dam with would power a major city in Brazil, but destroy the indigenous peoples access to water. He went to their community, and asked them what he could do to help. He donated money, protested, ran conferences and tried to disrupt the building of the dam using his influence, but it failed, and he had to watch the suffering of this indigenous tribe that he'd grown very close to in their time working together to prevent the dam. He's not Anti-indigenous as people love to claim, he's clumsy and arrogant (like all cis white men) but what he does is an attempt to elevate native voices not smother them even if he doesn't necessarily succeed.

The movie isn't the menace to society people portray it as, nor is it as boring or uncompelling as people claim. But I still can't go online to enjoy it because no matter what I say, I like it too much for "a bad movie" or I'm "too supportive of something harmful" although I still see people buying Harry Potter merchandise in the Barnes and Noble and I'd argue JK Rowling is an actively bigoted individual who's words and paychecks actively harm marginalized communities, unlike Cameron who despite his bumbling is trying his best and actually learning and doing better with the new content he puts out.

People also say things like, "You only like it cause you're white, no POC people like Avatar." which is blatantly untrue, I've seen native people who like it, black people who like it, I have black friends who like it, I know a black cosplayer who cosplays from it. In fact, I know more poc who cosplay from it than white people. Everyone is entitled to their opinion of the film, and should be allowed to interact with it without getting harassed. It's just exhausting to like it, so people don't say they do.

I'm tired of even the things that should be praised about the new film being used as a way to tear it down. Cameron said in an interview that he "likes Captain Marvel and Wonder Woman as characters but they're not mom's" when asked why he chose to make Neytiri a mother. Neytiri's motherhood doesn't detract from her warrior-ness, she's still a badass bitch and I think that's the point that this person on tiktok clearly missed. He wasn't saying you need women to be moms to be heros, but how many warrior women who are also mothers can you think of off the top of your head? I can't think of any. The choice to make Neytiri a badass mom wasn't to detract from single or childless female characters but to provide even more diversity in the kinds of strong female characters out there. I loved that 1/2 the cast of that movie was women, just as I loved Neytiri in the first film.

In conclusion, can we please stop making Avatar fans lives hell on the internet. I do my own research about how it is and isn't problematic and make my own decisions, I don't need strangers to yell at me. I just want to enjoy my silly ecoscifi movie about blue aliens. I'm aware of its issues and I do my best to raise awareness of the issues facing real natives, to engage with real native stories and voices and support their protests, legal persuits, tribal sovereignty, land back etc, and be the best ally I can be, but I'm not going to boycot this movie because it does some problematic stuff, or because it has an unoriginal plot, if I did that I could never watch another marvel movie again (and yes they're just as bad if you dig, look at the early ones especially) I'm so sick of the insane amount of factually unsupported hate this movie gets and of having to deal with it. I'm tired, I just want to enjoy my movie which is no worse than any other white backed and driven Hollywood blockbuster.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #james cameron #avatar james cameron

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