They Will ALWAYS LEAD YOU TO A SECONDARY LOCATION

Once a hero, always a hero🦾

reblog if you’re okay with people writing fanfics of your fanfics and/or fanfics inspired by your fanfics

So I'm a little too obsessed now and ordered this and the art book (which comes out in February) and it's got some very interesting information about ages and relationships that'll be very useful going forward so I'll drop the ages below and anything else interesting I found

Helm: 55 years old, king for 5 years at this point in time, spent almost his entire life fighting the hill tribes and Dunlendings. This is what makes him a king who dislikes to be challenged ok his authority and decisions

Héra: 19 years old, deep love for nature and especially the more fantastical kind, her horse is Ashere. The rest, I'm sure you remember from the movie itself

Lief: 16 years old, main roles are protecting the old maps and scrolls that keep the laws and customs recorded

Haleth: 30 years old, first in line to the throne, not expected to rule for another 20 years based on Helm's own life. A brawler by nature, he's very intimidating to those who threaten his family and he's known as one of their best warriors skilled in sword, spear and axe

Háma: 22 years old, more of a gentler spirit than his father and brother, more passionate about the songs and legends. He likes to think of himself as a warrior poet and is always carrying his carved lyre. A skilled swordsman but an expert with bow and arrow

Fréaláf: 28 years old, lord of harrowdale and first marshal of the Riddermark, the highest military rank and is charged with protecting Edoras and the surrounding lands. His horse is named éored. He was raised alongside his cousins and so has a deep bond with them all but is not above teasing them frequently. He's also very ready to stand up to Helm if he believes a decision unwise

Olwyn: 45 years old, lady's maid to Héra but more become a mentor than a simple maid or servant. Thought in many battles over the years and has known great loss but finds ways to move forward and doesn't suffer fools. She sees herself in Héra as only she and a few others know Olwyn's past as a shield maiden

Freca: 40 years old, lord of the west-march. He claims to be descended from the fifth king of Rohan, Fréawine but his hair and beard instead cast doubt and suggest the Dunlendish blood runs through his veins instead. Has very little love for the kings of Rohan. Spends a lot of time dwelling on what he doesn't have and pays little heed to the king refusing summons to attend the witan

Wulf: 20 years old. Only son of Freca. His mother has also passed like with Héra. Quiet and intense most of the time, dressing in sombre colours. His belief that Héra loves him is very fragile. Expert in swords and bows. Has very little personal ambition at the start, growing up under his father's shadow and subject to his father's whims, despite this he loves his father and should anything happen he'll repay it tenfold. Should his youthful affection be spurned, that love will turn into a pathologically hatred for Helm, Héra and all the people of Rohan

General Targg: born and raised in Dunland, he has become a trusted advisor to Freca and will likely be key to Wulf's own reign. He is wise and calm but in the heat of battle will fight fiercely yet he retains a deep sense of honour as a warrior

Agents of B.A.R.B.I.E. -> Phil Coulson

This Barbie is losing it!

AoS + text posts pt. 17/?

someone on twitter is trying to claim that use of an em-dash is an indication of AI-generated writing because it’s “relatively rare” for actual humans to use it. skill issue

"Poor thing, he's always getting knocked out, isn't he?"

Says Jemma Simmons, as if she didn't just knock him out with a fire extinguisher a few episodes ago.

B2MEM - "Ashes"

@spring-into-arda (308 words)

My first thought on seeing that one of the prompts this time was the song "Ashes" by the Longest Johns was that this was a great prompt for Elrond and Numenor; the talk about worshipping the ashes really seems to fit with later stage Numenor and tending to the flame of life and hope is a very Elrond thing.

(Okay, my very first thought when I saw that one of the prompts was a song link was an irrational certainty that it was a Rick Roll. Tumblr has made me paranoid.)

. . .

It was a hard thing to visit Numenor now. He had seen it when it was green and golden; to see it slowly crumble into ash was a hard thing.

It was elves who were supposed to be most tempted by memory and its traces of old glories; to see Men so enthralled by their own past, their own dead, felt unnatural. Elrond had known these faces when the lifeblood was still bright in their cheeks. He did not mind seeing them captured in stone, but to see more care expended on these remnants than on the ever fewer children whose voices echoed down the cold streets - it disturbed him.

There was not much he could do. The kings of Numenor did not like an elf telling them their business.

Even if the one doing so was, even now, not quite an elf.

There had been a time -

But he turned his mind firmly from memory. He could do no good there.

He could do some good here in the poorest quarter of the city in the market corner where a host of anxious mothers with infants who had caught the fever plaguing the city had gathered because they had heard he could help.

It was a good reminder that there was still some new life in the city.

“Hello, little one,” he said softly to the first squalling little one that was placed in his arms. “Let me see what is amiss. Should you like to hear a song while I do?”

It was an old song, good for soothing fevers and children alike.

He had sung it long ago to some who were now immortalized in ever more elaborate stone. He could lose himself in grief for that if he let himself.

He could.

He would not, so long as there were more children to tend.