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Anyway, it’s not about the character being redeemable or irredeemable, it’s about whether the character takes the opportunities for redemption or passes them by.

#ranger writes #ranger reads

"Opening Eyes"

Deltarune/Pokemon Crossover fic I wrote while I was bored. More chapters maybe? Who knows

Warnings: None

How deranged am I?: Very.

Rilla if u see this. This stays between us i donr wanna be cringe round you <3

#pkmn posting #utdr posting #pokerune crossover <3 bc im gay #ranger writes

... Soooo i decided to blog as I read the Silmarillion. And should probably apologise in advance for what you may all soon read...

Day One:

OKAY SO I JUST STARTED THE SLIM

AND HOLY SHIT IS IT MORE INTERESTING THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE!?

Melkor reminds me of a hyena in the shadows babbling away to himself and stealing the scraps of food from the table...

The Ainulindalë: an early morning bumble about the mists of time:

OKAY SO , the first thing that struck me straaiight down was firstly how Tolkien managed to get that Biblical candence down for when he wrote the Ainulindalë. The rhythm and almost reverential and descriptive way he wrote this first chapter made me feel like I was hunched over a desk in Imaldris pouring over old texts under the light of the moon and candles. Just... His descriptions of the characters were so beautiful and the worldbuilding! THE WORLD BUILDING! LISTEN UP FOLKS, THAT WAS SOME BRILLLAINT Writing.

@silvanhick and i were talking about how both Tolkien and C. S(taples). Lewis started off with their world building by having the World being sung into existence is both(excluding the Polar Bear incident) the height of friendship

and an interesting choice on both their parts.. I truly wonder if they both sat down one night and over a pot of tea were like.. So.. What happens if the world was sung into existence? And then they took that idea and just ran with it in diffwrent directions... I wonder why there was an attraction to music..

Besides the fact that I'm now imaginings what Liam Neeson( i don't know how to spell) sounds like singing, i could see all the colours and mists mingling under the vast expanse of the stars...

Alssso.. On a less in awe note, this is the first time in like 8 years that I'm trying to read the Silm again... I won't lie, reading Tolkiens style of writing is sometimes extremely difficult for me. Buuut the hyperfixation has since kicked in and I'm determined to read about the Fall of Numenor.

ONE MORE THING!

That the Elves believe that the valar can still be heard in the wind, water and rain and in the grass as the wind rustles through is an interesting thought.

Anyways, so ends the Ainulindalë.

#The silm #the silmarillion #Chapter one #Read along?#I dunno what to call this #Ranger Writes #And rambles #Silvanhick #This is how we roll in the shire that has not yet been created.

Lost Song

Quick little drabble. I miss writing, and couldn’t get the concept of this out of my head.

________________________________ I often wonder if he goes to the woods and thinks of me.

I go to the woods, sometimes. When I can. I’m not supposed to leave the realm of the sages very often, but I am allowed few exceptions. The forest is my home; it is where I was born, where I grew up, and where I originally thought I’d spend the rest of my life…It is a glimpse into an age long past. A reflection of who I used to be.

Who we used to be.

The stump in the Sacred Forest Meadow sits like a time capsule that was never properly buried. It represents a time long past, but it has not been untouched. It has weathered and aged like the rest of us; fungi grow from its decaying bark, and vines entangle around it. There is still a comfortable spot for me to sit, though, so that is what I do whenever I come to the forest. I sit on the overgrown stump and raise the ocarina to my lips and play my song. Hoping that maybe he will hear it.

This forest, the Lost Woods, is filled with my music. People unfamiliar with the woods will become disoriented at every turn. But those who know how to listen to the forest—how to listen to my song— will be able to reach the sacred place in which I sit.

I hadn’t always known it was sacred. Or, I suppose I hadn’t always known why. I knew it was a place of great importance, but not until I was called to its aid did I understand the true significance of this place. The one that even those who have lived in the forest all their life might not have guessed.

I told him, long ago, that if he played my song while he was here he’d be able to talk to the spirits of forest. I wonder, if he came here and played my song…would he be able to talk to me?

But I cannot allow this idea to get caught in the webs of my mind. I am not a forest spirit. I am Saria. The Sage of the Forest Temple…I am not a Kokiri or a spirit or anything else that could exist wholly outside the Sacred Realm anymore. The only thing that can reach his realm is my music. So I will sit here, and I will play, and I will hope he hears my song and remembers me.

I am not a Kokiri. I am not a spirit.

I am a Sage. I am a memory.

He never used to speak much…but he would speak to me, sometimes. Even if it was not with words. I had a way of understanding him when others did not, and whenever he used his voice to talk, I wondered if I was the only person alive who ever heard it.

No…he did not speak very much, but we would use my song to communicate. So I just hope now, if by some chance he passes through this place, that he’ll hear my song and remember he can talk to me. Even if he does not know I am listening. I make sure the forest sings for him, and I would give anything to hear him return the melody.

I am Saria. I am his friend forever, but forever is a very long time.