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I'm reposting this and deleting the old post, because for reasons I do not fully understand, my every effort to fix the formatting of the old post failed horribly. So. Here it is, hopefully readable this time.

Original fic; ‘True Love Can Conquer All’
Author; Anestel
Source; Adult Fanfiction
Pairings; Legolas/Saelbeth, Legolas/Elladan (non-consenting), Legolas/Aragorn (non-consenting) , Glorfindel/Erestor, vaguely implied Elladan/Aragorn.
Rating; On the original fic; NC-17 (details below). On this PPC fic; R-16; we had to mention some of the awful things in the NC-17 so that we could PPC it. *This includes graphic rape*. We ended it as soon as we could. And we have cut as much gratuitous smut as we could. We’re not that evil.
Notes and Disclaimer: We have no connection to Tolkien or any of his many wonderful creations. And as for Anestel . . . well, if we could hunt her down then many, many unpleasant deaths would be hers. We warn you now. If you are in any way fond of Elves in general, or are a luster for any member of the Half-elven family in any way, this fic may disturb you. If you are of a delicate constitution, we warn you also; the fic that this is based on contains the following; really bad, lubricant-less, NC-17 slash. Rape (which is repetitive and trivialised.) BDSM. Implications of Elladan being into bestiality. Also; bad language from Trojie and fiery violence from Soul.
This story is also set in the Magical World Where All Elves are Gay. And apparently Mirkwood and Imladris are at war. Go figure.
This is the sort of story that the Bad Slash department was designed for.
Mini-Balrogs are the invention of the awe-inspiring Miss Cam, and the Mini-Balrog Rhyme is of course the property of the Philosopher at Large.
We thank Agent Martin of the Mary-Sue division very, very much for reporting this fic to us. Big ups to her. Constant vigilance, boys and girls.
We thank [livejournal.com profile] tea_fiend for the pointing out of grammatical errors that escaped our eyes. Not our grammatical errors; Anestel’s.
Also; shout-out to Aislynn Crowdaughter, who on being told we were working on a fic that ‘is revolting; not only is it badly written but it's about Elladan torturing Legolas,’ said ‘Let me guess: Anestels "True Love can conquer all", aka *Hit the delete key, NOW!*.’

A barking at the door, followed by frantic shushing and the scrabbling sound of keys in the lock woke Soul up from a peaceful afternoon nap. Trojie, followed by Absinthe, positively skipped into the response centre. Absinthe, as most puppies do, had grown at a rate of knots, and was currently tall enough to plant her paws on the shoulders of any unwitting visitors so that she could wash their faces. Going by the size of said paws, which were still wildly out of proportion to the rest of her body, she was going to end up about the size of a horse when she was done growing. There was obviously something in the water of Headquarters: no normal Dane grows that big. And Deimos was, quite frankly, enormous, her head coming up to Trojie's shoulder, the perfect height for slobbering in people's ears. The response centre was getting very crowded.
'What have you got there?' asked Soul suspiciously, seeing Trojie softly deposit a jar on the bench, and open up a muslin-covered cabinet. The human didn't answer, instead reaching gently inside the jar with tweezers. She extracted four small, squirming objects from the jar, put them tenderly inside the cabinet, which Soul now recognised as an insectary, and shut the door. With a grin she tossed the now empty jar to her partner.

'Papilio tempestae . . .' Soul read, and arched an eyebrow thoughtfully. 'Trojie,' she said evenly, 'where did you get this?'
'Nowhere.' Trojie attempted to look innocent, and failed quite spectacularly.
'Trojanhorse . . .' said Soul warningly. 'Have you been into a continuum without authorisation?'
'Maybe. . . ?'
'Because unless I'm very much mistaken, this jar contained Quantum Weather Butterflies. Which are from the Discworld. Would you care to explain yourself?'
'Not butterflies . . .'
Soul raised an eyebrow.
'Caterpillars, if you must know,' said Trojie a little sulkily.
Soul exhaled through her nose slowly, her expression making her next question utterly unnecessary (which of course didn't put her off asking it). 'Might I enquire as to why?'
'Don't you think it would be fun to subject an Author-Wraith to a localised tornado? Because I think it would be a wonderful thing to see PumpkinQueen's polluted little wraith whizzing around at high speed.' The Bad Slasher's face contorted into the expression of extreme hatred that she always made when speaking of the Zep-slash-wraith.
'Yes, a lovely idea, but still, you went into the Pratchettverse without permission. You'll get into serious trouble for that one.'

The Discworld and environs was one of the most popular continuums for unauthorised jaunts by agents. And due to the number of History Monks running around, it was getting tricky to avoid getting caught if you happened to play with time in that particular multiverse. Upstairs had reacted by putting a strict ban on visiting the place.
'Oh well, I expect I'll survive. I'm bored. Any new fics?' Trojie sat down on her amp and picked up her sadly abused guitar, attempting to tune it.
'Yes,' said Soul, raising her voice to be heard over the tortured guitar. She waved a printout at her human partner, attempting to get the message across when it was evident that Trojie hadn't a clue what she was saying.
Trojie perked up at the sight of the report, and put the guitar down. 'Ooh! Where are we going this time? And what's it about?'
'Don't get too happy. It's a twin-fic.' Soul scowled. 'With a Weak!Elrond and an EvilBastard!Thranduil.'
'Twincest?' asked Trojie with a shudder.
'Sadly, no. BDSM.'
'Which twin?'
'Elladan. With Legolas.'
Soul, already on the point of smouldering at the bashing of her favourite characters, saw Trojie's face shut down. At this point, despite the disparity in their species, the two agents looked disturbingly similar.
'Elf BDSM,' said Trojie coldly, and slightly disbelievingly. She got up and started throwing equipment into a bag. 'Can we bring the dogs? They'd like a run, and they're allowed into the LOTR continuum.'
'I suppose. There are two 'storylines' running concurrently, but I think we should follow the Legolas/Elladan one, as it's the main story.' The demoness didn't need to add the rider 'even though it will be torture.'
'Have you got a lead for Deimos?'
'Somewhere.' Soul sifted through the jumble of paperwork and glassware that adorned the desk. She held up a length of what looked like dinosaur hide, to go by the thickness and texture. 'Do you have one for Absinthe?'
Trojie unwound the chain from her waist and clipped it to Absinthe's collar. 'Yep. We good to go?'
'Certainly. Are we bothering with disguises?'
'Nah. We'll be fine. No OCs, so no-one'll notice us.'
'Good. I'm sick of pointy ears.'
'I'm portalling us in partway into the story.'
'Oh? Why?'
'Because the treatment of Thranduil, Legolas and Elrond in the first bit is horrendous. I mean, listen to this. . .' Trojie cleared her throat and started to read in mock-dramatic style.
' "But, Ada…no…I can't” Legolas argued with his father. Tears welled in his blue eyes. His heart was breaking. Legolas' father couldn't do this to him. He didn't want this. He wanted to stay here with his love.
"You will marry Prince Elladan to seal the peace negotiations. You will live in Imladris and you will obey Prince Elladan and you will no longer be my heir." Thranduil said coldly. He didn't care if he hurt his son, he only cared how to better his kingdom and this treaty would be very profitable for Mirkwood."

Trojie looked up at Soul, and continued. 'You see what I mean? And if you set either Mirkwood or Imladris on fire, I think it comes out of our pay packets.'
'I was unaware that we actually got paid,' said Soul sardonically, as she moved over to the portal.
'We can but hope.'


Legolas curled upon his sleeping blanket and stared into the fire. His heart ached for home and Saelbeth. It had been a week since the entourage had left. They were almost to Imladris, one more day.
'Hold on,' said Soul slowly. 'Mirkwood to Imladris . . . you would need a couple of weeks at the absolute least to cross the Misty Mountains, and before that a week or so to even get to the mountains from the northern end of Mirkwood . . . add more time for getting from the mountains to Imladris . . . it'd take maybe a month all up, give or take a few days, to get from Mirkwood to Imladriss . . . and sshe thinksss they can do it in a week?'
Somewhere during this, her voice had dropped a few semitones and the S's had started getting longer. Trojie decided not to comment, but increased her demon-watching vigilance just in case. This was a highly dangerous situation to put Soulshadow in, after all. 'Maybe they flew. Or there was a wormhole, or something?' she offered without much hope. Surreptitiously she stepped up next to the hissing Soul, anticipating violence, or at the very least active smouldering, from her demoness partner.
Legolas had one more day to be his own. He thanked the Valar that he wouldn't have to be bound to the prince. His father had done that much for him. He would be married to Prince Elladan and would be there for the prince's needs. Just one more day…
'What in the name of Bonham and Kirke does this stupid bint think she's doing?' asked Trojie. 'Elladan was not a prince. This cannot be stressed enough. No princes in Rivendell. And Tolkien's elves didn't have 'needs', for crying out loud.'
'Agreed,' said Soul, her eyebrow assuming its usual pose half-way up her forehead in weary cynicism. 'If they did, Middle Earth would be standing room only, considering their life-span and the apparent lack of contraception.'
The two agents turned back to the Words . . . too late. The world yanked them forward.
Legolas sighed sadly as they rode past the gates of Imladris. They took him straight to Elrond's home. Elrond, Arwen, Erestor, Glorfindel and the twins had come out to greet him. He looked down and sighed again. Gracefully he slipped off his horse and went to stand before them.
'Urrgh,' said Trojanhorse unintelligibly. Soul nodded.
'I hate time-jumps. But this author seems to have absolutely no concept of 'continuity'.'
'You mean there're more?'
'Many, many more.' Soul shook her head sadly. Trojie rooted in the bag for a minute and produced a bottle. She rattled it.
'Better take a few of these then.'
Soul eyed her warily. 'And these are. . . ?'
'Ah. Good thinking, that human.' Suddenly Soul cocked her head to one side, listening. She nodded towards the canons. 'Hmm, listen to this dialogue.'
"Welcome Legolas." Elrond said and smiled at him. "Are you ready for the wedding?" He asked.
'It could just be that the author has no clue about the proper use of speech marks,' Soul said thoughtfully, 'or Elrond could just have become some form of deity, since the 'he' got capitalised.' She paused a moment, then shrugged. 'I won't complain, but I'm pretty sure the Valar would have something to say about that one. . .'
Trojie shrugged too. 'Prob'ly. It'd be fun to see an all-out Valar battle though, if they did get annoyed over it. Who d'you think would win?'
'That would depend entirely on who was fighting whom. Ilúvatar would ssslaughter the lot of them; Nienna might just drown them.' Soul blinked. 'Anyway -- back to the Words. . .'
Legolas looked at him in shock. He would have thought they would have given him time to settle in and get to know Elladan before…before the marriage. "Now?" he asked still in disbelief.
"Yes, now." Elrond answered him and looked at him oddly. The twins snickered and Arwen hid her giggles behind her hand.

'Snickering twins?! And I am not in any way fond of Arwen, but even the blasphemous movie version would not giggle,' said Soul, outraged at this treatment of her most adored canon family.
'No, she wouldn't. I think we've got another candidate for our Wraith-torture programme,' said Trojie, who, while she could pass on the actual character of Arwen, hated the Bitch!Arwen incarnation with a passion.
Legolas blushed and looked down. "I suppose I'm ready"
'Forgive me, but you've just travelled for a week -- presumably at light speed to get here in a week -- you're not rested or even washed, you haven't even settled in or unpacked, and you are ready to get married?' The eyebrow slid back up again. Soul's red eyes were glowing disquietingly. Deimos, ears flat to her head, growled at the little tableau of canon characters.
Trojie put a warning hand on Deimos' lead, and said, 'Soul, calm down. You're getting the dogs all het up.' Absinthe glanced questioningly up at her mistress.
'You wait,' said Soul ominously. 'You just wait. Then see if you still feel calm.' She grabbed at the bag Trojie had slung over one shoulder, and retrieved the portal device. 'Let's skip the incredibly short 'marriage feast', shall we?' she said, and not waiting for an answer, she programmed the portal device and pressed the button.
The two agents found themselves in an empty bedchamber. Voices could be heard just outside the door, so to find out what was going on, both Bad Slashers hurriedly scanned the Words.
Legolas didn't eat much and felt sick. He was relieved when it was over and Elladan led him to their chambers. Nervousness and apprehension made his hands tremble. Would he have to let Elladan take him tonight? His heart ached for Saelbeth, the only one that had ever touched him intimately. Legolas shook his head to keep from sobbing.
“Welcome to your new home,” Elladan said softly as he ushered the blonde Sinda into the room. The younger elf was more than he had hoped for. He had met him before when Legolas was just an elfling. He closed the door and then turned to his new husband.

'Hang on, hang on,' said Soul, frowning. 'I'm willing to overlook the apparently unrelated fragmented mini-sentences in favour of the fact that I'm reasonably certain that Legolas was older than the twins.'
'True, but this gives the whole story lovely undertones of dirty-old-man-ness from Elladan,' said Trojie bitterly.
'You mean to go with the whole BDSM angle, as well as the demi-necrophilia, the sadism, the obvious penchant for self-mutilation, and the bestiality?' Soul growled. She'd read further into the Words than Trojie.
'The . . . the what?'
'I'm sure you heard me the first time.'
'Necrophilia?' growled Trojie, twin-fancier extraordinaire. Absinthe growled too. 'Bestiality?'
'Yes. And lack of lubricant. Hence the 'self-mutilation'. If doing what this author makes him do, without lubricant, doesn't count as self-mutilation, then I don't know what does. We're almost definitely going to be shipping the pair of them back to Headquarters for medical treatment.' The demoness cut off the squeaks of anger from her partner. 'Shush. We're missing material for our report.'
Legolas stood still and then looked at Elladan. He fidgeted nervously and looked down. Elladan sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the place beside him. Legolas joined him and wrung his hands together in his lap.
Elladan rubbed Legolas' neck. “Why are you so nervous?” He purred into Legolas' ear as he moved closer.
“I…I'm not nervous.” Legolas stammered and forced himself not to tense more under Elladan's touch.
“Hmm...But you are a beautiful one.” Elladan whispered as he gently pushed Legolas back onto the bed. He frowned when the blond struggled. “You are mine, Legolas. You will obey me. Is that understood? Your only purpose in life now is my pleasure.”

Trojie bridled. Soul burned. They looked at each other, vengeance uppermost in both of their minds.
'Holy hell,' said Trojie. 'Bondage elves.'
'I did sssay,' said Soul slightly petulantly. 'Twice.'
'I know, but I wasn't sure I believed you. Shit.' Trojie shook her head disbelievingly. 'Shitshitshit. I hate BDSM.'
Soul's tone, though still dangerously low, shifted a gear into business mode. 'Smut coming up,' she said matter-of-factly.
'We staying or going?' asked Trojie.
Soul weighed up the options. 'We ought to stay, I suppose,' she said, sighing. 'Upstairs prefers us to get as much evidence as we can. The Queen is getting proactive again; she wants the department's image to change.'
'Change for the better, I assume?'
'And she thinks exposing her already unstable agents to even more squick will improve our image?'
'Apparently so.' Soulshadow shrugged.
Trojie cocked her head to one side and offered her prognosis solemnly: 'She's mad.'
'She is a sentient potplant. I hardly think that makes her a candidate for the Miss Sanity Awards.'
Legolas whimpered softly and realized that his desires and dreams were being taken away from him forever. He was beginning to understand that he had become nothing but a possession and Elladan was his master.
Trojie rolled her eyes. 'That was quick. He was only told that in the last sentence.'
'He isss ssharp, isn't he. Careful Legolass, you might cut yoursself,' hissed Soul sardonically, grinding her teeth. Trojie dared wonder idly if it would blunt her fangs any.
“I understand.” He answered anger and resentment in his voice, but helplessness at the powerlessness he felt to do anything.
'. . . did that make ssssenssse?' asked Soul slowly. The hissing had begun in earnest.
'Not so much.'
Elladan smiled, “Good, I don't want to hurt you
'He liessss,' Soul hissed. 'He liessss.'
'This author is sick.'
'Wassn't that a given, conssssidering we were brought in?'
but I will if you disobey me.” He said and straddled Legolas' hips. “Have you ever been taken?” He asked as he ground his erection against Legolas'.
'Another deity-elf,' Trojie noted. 'Except I think even Nienna could whap this one.'
Soul smouldered slightly; Trojie, a sentence ahead and worrying for the fate of the apostrophe, failed -- for now -- to notice.
He felt the younger one's member begin to slowly harden against it's will.
'The common apostrophe, yet again herded to an unnatural habitat,' said Trojie, gritting her teeth. 'You know, the PPC may be psychotic, and mean, and only a few steps away from flamers crossed with delusional Mary-Sues, but at least we don't treat punctuation like a game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey.'
'Who sssaysss that about the PPC?' asked Soul.
'Anyone we've assassinated, exorcised or untangled?'
Legolas felt the familiar tingling of arousal and fought it. “Yes,” he whispered and remembered nights with Saelbeth. Especially that last night. They had made love and talked until they both fell asleep exhausted.
Elladan smiled. Virgins were always fun but he wasn't in the mood to be gentle so it was good Legolas had some experience He wanted to go hard and fast. He pulled off his robe and noticed Legolas' shock that he wore nothing underneath. He shrugged and started to pull of Legolas' clothes. Tearing some of it impatiently He nudged Legolas' legs apart and positioned himself between them. “Oh Legolas, a rule…inside this room you call me master and do as I say.”

'That's it. We're leaving,' said Trojie, grabbing Soul by the shoulder and portalling out. 'I am not sitting through that, and Eru knows there're other rape scenes.'
A moment of nausea, and the world spun.
'Temporal . . . . whoa . . . spatial distortion,' said Trojie, looking like she was going to throw up. 'Sorry Soul.'
Both agents attempted to ignore the error messages ('This spleen has performed an illegal operation') being sent by their internal organs.
'Where are we now?' asked Soul, looking around. None of the characters were in view.
'Bugger. I think we've lost them.'
There was a bark. Both Soul and Trojie looked around, to see Deimos's short tail disappearing round the corner, and Absinthe following her.
'What are they doing?'
'I haven't the foggiessst,' said Soul, sounding quite matter-of-fact despite the hissing, as she trailed the dogs out of the room, and down the hallway. Deimos stopped, and pawed at a familiar looking door. The agents could hear movement in the room beyond.
'Did she just sniff out a canon character?'
'Yess,' said Soul, looking unsurprised.
'That's brilliant! Think Absinthe could do it too?'
'I do not ssee why not.'
'I knew keeping them was a good idea!'
'Trojie, much as I hate to interrupt this moment of joy, should we not be paying attention to Legolas? He's been raped. If the canon is working the way it should, he is quite likely to be on the brink of collapse.'
Trojie put on her game face. 'Right. Let's go.'
Legolas sighed as he crawled out of bed. Three weeks he and Elladan had been married. He could never remember being so miserable in his life. It was not that Elladan was so cruel; Legolas could have been in a worse position. It was just that every time Elladan touched him, he felt as if he was betraying Saelbeth.
Why did this happen to them? What great sin had he and Saelbeth done to deserve this hell? Legolas shook his head. They had done nothing wrong. This was the result of his father's cruelty, and the Valar had allowed it.

'Nuh-uh, you can't blame the Valar for this one,' said Trojie. 'On the plus side, he doesn't seem on the verge of death-from-grief.'
'I get the feeling that they assssume that by mentioning the Valar, they come acrossss assss dedicated fansssss, who have done Ressssearch,' said Soul sardonically. 'And the lack of him dying jussst meansss that the canon issss royally sssscrewed.'
'Point taken, and kindly do not prostitute the gracious name of Research,' said Trojie primly. 'Skim-reading's more likely in this author's case.
'Oh Nienna, please hear my prayers,' thought Legolas. A knock on the door startled him as he finished buttoning his robe. The only type of clothing he was allowed to wear, he reflected bitterly, was robes.
'Pointlesssss sssadisssm,' said Soul. 'Thissss isss jusssst getting ridiculoussssss.'
'You said it,' said Trojie fervently.
He missed leggings and tunics, but most of all, he missed his freedom. With a sigh, Legolas opened the door and smiled at the servant. His name was Lenwë, if the Sinda remembered correctly. "May I help you, Lenwë?" Legolas asked.
'The point of a servant is sort of that they help you, isn't it?' asked Trojie.
'I rather asssssumed sssso,' said Soul, still hissing. 'And I alsssso thought that Rivendell wasssss sssservantlesssss.'
'Hmm. This is getting surreal. Are we definitely still in Middle-Earth?'
Lenwë bowed. "This letter came for you from Mirkwood, Sir. Also, Lord Glorfindel requests an audience with you."
'Middle-Earth had a postal service?'
'Maybe they jussst gave the letter to a passssssing dwarf?'
'That's Discworld, dear.'
The agents missed the departure of the servant, but managed to catch the booming Vox Dei letter from Saelbeth.
My dearest Legolas,
Oh, Love, I miss you! My heart aches for your presence. My arms long to embrace your warm body and feel you close to me. My feet want to run to where you are, so that my eyes may look upon your beauty, and so that my ears may hear your melodious voice. That I might smell your sweet scent, and that my soul might not be so burdened.
Legolas, my love, tell me what horrendous thing we have done to warrant such a dark fate from the Valar! My soul cries out to yours! Can you hear it, Legolas? Can you hear it across the miles? Can you feel my love and strength where you are, so far away from my side? Have you forgotten me? Please, tell me you have not forgotten me. Tell me you love me and you still want me. Oh, Legolas, I do miss you so. Write back to me, my prince!
All My Love,

'Retch,' said Trojie flatly. 'That was the most sickening piece of shit masquerading as romance I have ever been party to.'
'And guaranteed to make Legolassss feel much worssse,' said Soul. 'I am quite intrigued by how sssSaelbeth's heart, arms, feet and ssso forth ssseem to posssesss willsss of their own, however. There isss only one 'I' in the firssst paragraph, besssides the 'I love you'.' She blinked. 'I apologissse. Thiss annoysss me.'
Trojie shrugged. 'Whatever floats your boat, Soul. Like I said -- sickening piece of shit. Forget it.'
'I wissssh I could. . .'
Legolas smiled at the letter
'Why?!' Soul enquired at a rather greater volume than was strictly necessary.
Trojie scratched behind Absinthe's ears absently. 'He's insane, remember?'
and caressed its words as if they were the writer's face. He missed Saelbeth terribly. Would they ever be together again? Time passed quickly as he read and reread the letter. A knock on the door startled him, and he quickly put the letter away in his old traveling pack. Elladan would never look there.
'Why the hell not? Why would he not search Legolas's belongings, if he's so evil and nasty?'
'I rather think that the author isss lying to ussss. He will sssearch the pack later. Oh the transsssparency.' Soul growled in her throat. 'And now, enter Glorfindel, ssstage left, acting sssstupidly.'
The two agents and their dogs followed Legolas and the servant along the hallways.
When they had reached the door, Lenwë knocked and then left, leaving Legolas alone outside Glorfindel's room. The Elda finally opened the door and smiled warmly at Legolas. He ushered the younger Elf inside and to the prepared lunch. "Sit down," he said indicating one of the chairs, while Glorfindel sat in the other.
'Good morning, Mr. Anderssson. Do ssssit down,' said Soul. Trojie snorted.
'Why do I get the sudden visual of Legolas saying 'How about I give you the finger, and you give me my phonecall?'
Legolas sat down nervously and watched Glorfindel. He began eating, wondering when Glorfindel would tell him why he had been called here.
"Legolas, you're probably wondering what you are doing here. The reason is simple. I've noticed how miserable you are, and I'd like to become friends with you. Everyone knows how Elladan can be,

'Then why in the holy name of Kurt Cobain does no-one do anything about it? asked Trojie. Soul's eyes were now glowing the most disquieting red.
'Get ussss out of here. I will not watch thissss. I will not watch Glorfindel being used assss an expossssition device,' she said viciously.
Trojie complied, hanging on tightly to Absinthe, who had a habit of wriggling whilst portalling, which made the human Bad Slasher worried about losing her in transit. Soul's grip on Deimos's lead was so tight that her knuckles were white. Her fingernails were digging into her palm; she had been rather hoping the pain might distract her, but she had a depressingly high pain barrier.
Again, they portalled around the corner from Legolas, but this time they recognised the surroundings, and managed to find him without the assistance of the dogs. Just before they stepped through the door, however, both dogs' hackles rose. Deimos started growling.
'Sssh,' said Soul. 'What'sss the matter?'
'I'm gonna open the door,' said Trojie. 'Is she going to be all right?'
'Ssshe will be,' said Soul, jerking Deimos' lead back and redoubling her grip on the snarling dog. 'Now let's get on with this.'
Legolas sighed as he tired to concentrate on his book. Elladan said he had a surprise for him, leaving Legolas with a cold lump of fear in his gut. His husband had been gone for an hour; he should be home soon.
A few minutes later, Elladan stepped into their room with a human close behind him. The Half-Elf smiled at Legolas. “Legolas, this is Estel.”
The Sinda bowed his head politely to the Man, ignoring the lusty looks Estel sent him. Legolas shivered and brought his gaze to Elladan “Estel has been away with the Rangers of the North, tracking Orcs. He is a very good friend of mine,” Elladan said.

'No, actually, he'sss your adopted brother,' said Soul, narrowing her eyes. 'I hate to think where thissss isss going . . .'
Estel smiled at the beautiful Wood Elf lying on the bed. He would have to thank Elladan later for giving him this opportunity. “Hello, Legolas,” came the sultry voice of Isilidur's heir.
Elladan sat down on the bed absently stroking Legolas' silky golden hair. “Do you like him?” Elladan asked Estel. The Man nodded, his eyes roving over the lithe body of the Prince. “Do you want to try him?” Elladan offered.

Trojie literally choked here, choked and turned purple. Soul frantically whacked her on the back until she straightened up.
'I'm NOT HAVING IT!' rasped Trojie. 'Bad enough she does this to Elladan, but she's getting Aragorn involved too? Rape? RAPE in MIDDLE-EARTH?'
'I think Elladan being a pimp isss quite dissssturbing too,' said Soul mildly, causing Trojie to look at her; surprised, for mildness wasn't usually Soul's MO. As Trojie turned, light caught her eye. The demoness was actually aflame.
'Shit, Soul, you're on fire!'
'Sssssso?' The demoness had not even the slightest hint of worry in her voice.
'Soul, if you set them on fire we're DEFINITELY in trouble.' Trojie, at a loss for what else to do, up-ended her coffee thermos on Soul's burning shoulders. The fire went out with a hiss and a smell of espresso.
'Trojanhorssse!' Soul looked distinctly pissed off. But something else had caught Trojie's eye, and as she squeaked, Soul saw it too.
'Spelling mistake,' she said quietly, apparently willing to ignore the fact that her hair and uniform were now sticky and smelled strongly of coffee. 'You know what that means . . .'
'Every name spelt wrong in 'Rings' . . .' Trojie started.
'. . . A mini-Balrog gets its wings,' they finished the chant together, and Trojie grinned.
'Incoming, Miss Cam,' she said under her breath.
'Can we apply to adopt him?' Soul asked.
'I don't see why not,' said Trojie. 'I think he'll be a bit neurotic though.'
'Who wouldn't be disturbed if they were born during a rape scene?'
'Speaking of . . .'
With grimaces on their faces, the agents returned their attention to the fic at hand.
Legolas gasped in surprise. “Elladan!” he protested. “I will not.” Elladan slapped Legolas with a resounding crack, causing a small whimper to escape the young Elf's mouth. “Elladan, please,” he begged, but was promptly struck again. His cheek was turning an ugly purple.
“Legolas, you will learn your place. You are nothing. You are only here to pleasure others with your body. That is your purpose. You are my slut, and you will spread your legs for whoever I tell you to,” Elladan hissed into Legolas' ear. He grabbed between Legolas' legs and squeezed cruelly. “You're mine, and I want to share you with my friend. So, undress and do whatever Estel tells you.”
Legolas nodded dumbly, giving his reluctant his consent and undressed. He then lay back on the bed waiting for Estel's instructions.

After a moment of tense silence, Soul burst into dramatic flames and leapt for Elladan's throat. Deimos did the same.
'Shit!' Trojie scrambled to grab her errant partner. After a brief struggle (and what she suspected might be a third-degree burn on her hand, which she ignored for now) she ended up with a handful of hair and another handful of wing-joint. Absinthe was keeping Deimos at bay, but possibly only because the Warg had the sense or the decency not to outright attack her mistress's partner's pet.
'Soul! Soulshadow! Get a BLOODY GRIP!' Trojie hissed, yanking on the hair and the wing for emphasis.
'I have a grip! Get OFF me! Sssomeone'sss going to DIE TODAY!' Soul hissed back, wrenching herself away from Trojie and back to the awful scene on the bed. With a final 'Ow!' she broke free. Cursing, Trojie threw herself after the still-burning demoness.
'Soulshadow Diamond, you will get your thrice-damned demon arse back here NOW!'
They scuffled, Soul desperately trying to get to Elladan and Aragorn, presumably to kill them, and Trojie equally desperate to keep Soul away from the canon characters. After dodging Trojie's flailing arms and frantic swearing, Soul managed to get a line of sight on Elladan.
Estel undressed after Legolas returned to the bed. Elladan moved to sit in a chair, leaving the bed to the Elf and the Man. Estel smiled lasciviously at Elladan, climbing beside golden Elf. He whispered against the delicately pointed ear, “Dearest Legolas, if you obey me, I will be gentle and not hurt you, but if you don't…” He let the words trail off, the threat thick in the warning.
The demoness launched herself at the dark-haired Elf, but was tripped by Absinthe and sprawled across the floor, the wind knocked out of her. An out-of-breath Trojie wheezed over and stood heavily on her back.
'Right,' she panted. 'We're going back to the response centre. And then you and I are going to have a little talk.'
The human agent programmed the portal device, and dragged her partner through it. The dogs, ever-loyal, followed, though Deimos let off an impressively threatening snapping snarl in Elladan's direction.
Trojie dropped Soul in an undignified and still-aflame heap on the response centre floor. 'What,' she demanded, 'the hell was that about?'
Soul picked herself up and dusted herself off, also brushing off a few stray sparks which hit the steel floor and died. 'I told you,' she said; 'ssssomeone wasss due to die for that little disssplay.'
'Yes, but that someone should be the author! The canons did nothing wrong! And will you please stop flaming? It's unnerving, and the change in pressure might affect the weather butterflies.' Trojie barely took a moment out to put in a word for the caterpillars' safety, returning instantly to the matter at hand. 'Well?'
Soul eyed her levelly. 'All right, ssso perhapsss the canonss aren't to blame--'
'No, they are not. And I promise you, you can torture this Author-wraith as much as you like, just please, don't try to kill the canons. We're bringing them back to the good doctor here already -- how are you planning on explaining third-degree burns?!' Speaking of which, she thought, exploring the palm of her burnt hand surreptitiously with the fingertips of the other, do we keep a dermal regenerator in the emergency med kit, or will I have to go to the doc myself?
'Sssado-masssochissm,' Soul said evenly. 'It'sss obviousss that one or both of these charactersss fit that desscription. All we need sssay is they came from a BDSsssM fic. There should be no need to offer further detailssss, and we're not lying ssssaying that.'
Trojie sighed. 'That's not the point. . .Well, it is a valid point, but still. Look, promise me you're not going to burst into flames again -- will you please put your fire out? It's unnerving me now.'
Soul brushed a stray flame off her shoulder onto the floor and stamped it out pointedly. 'Ssssatissfied?'
Trojie looked at the dancing flames still licking across the demoness's shoulderblades and down her arms. 'And the rest.'
Soul arched an eyebrow. 'All of them?'
'Yes, Soulshadow. We're not going back until you do. Or until you promise it won't happen again.'
Soul glowered; considering her pupils were red, the effect was not particularly pretty. 'Fine, but I sssshall need a few minutes to sssshower. I cannot merely ssstop the firesss burning.'
'Oh, you can control when they start but--'
Soul 'ahem'ed perfunctorily. Trojie's eyes widened momentarily, then she closed them in shock. 'Tell me you can control when they start? Please?'
'We-ell. . . sssometimesss. . . If you don't mind a lot of ssmouldering, we sshould be all right . . .'
'I can live with smouldering if you don't scorch anything. And I'm going to look into anger management classes for you. I mean that. Now go shower; we'll already be in trouble for skipping out during a mission. If Upstairs ever find out, they'll murder us both.'
'Let them try.' Soul smiled grimly. 'I could ussse the ssstresss relief.'
'Go shower,' Trojie ordered, deeming it safer to ignore that than try to reply. 'And be back here in five minutes. Or else.'
Two recruits in the shower block got the shock of their lives when an absolutely shameless demoness walked in actually aflame, stripped off her uniform and stepped under a cold shower, producing a deafening hiss of water on fire and the largest amount of steam either of them had seen outside of a sauna. They were too busy blinking -- not to mention too unnerved -- to even pay attention to her when she stepped out again, her hair wet but skin bone-dry, wrung out her hair -- dropping what looked like a star or two into the basin, which glowed then died -- and stepped into her uniform again. She gave them a curt nod as she zippered up her boots, then stalked out.
'Four and a half minutes.' Trojie had been counting 'Mississippi's due to the lack of clocks. 'Good. Now come on, let's go.'
'At what point are we returning to this . . .'
Trojie had already programmed the portal, as well as locating the emergency med kit and dermal regenerator, healing her hand and getting both dogs to stop snarling quietly. 'We are skipping the rest of that particular rape scene; I do not want to see Imladris go up in flames.'
'Nor do I, believe me.' Soul arched an eyebrow in her version of an apology. 'You were right,' she admitted, causing Trojie to wonder who she was and what she'd done with the Soulshadow Trojie knew and worked with. 'I should control the fire thing a little better -- though I draw the line at anger management. . .'
Trojie eyeballed her for a long moment. 'All right. I shall reconsider the anger management if we get through this without so much as a smoulder, all right?'
Soul's eyes widened slightly. 'Not so -- ? But smouldering to me is like. . . like. . .' She couldn't think of a good human equivalent; after all, it's only the cartoons who get to have steam coming out of their ears, and she couldn't find a way to say "but this is normal for me, all right perhaps the flames are a bit over the top, but smouldering's perfectly all right" that Trojie wouldn't have her committed for. 'Can I hiss at least?'
Trojie sighed. 'All right, you can hiss. But if I see a wisp of smoke. . .'
'I understand.' Soul took a deep breath. 'I can do this; I did sign up for it, after all. Let's go.'
The two Bad-Slashers and their canine companions stepped back through the portal in time to see Legolas crawling painfully out of bed and inspecting himself. The damage was appalling.
His pale ivory skin was covered in ghastly patches of purple and black and several cuts and dried blood covered his chest, buttocks and back. With difficulty, the beaten elf made the trek to the desk.
'Why's he going to the desk? I would have thought recuperation would be the best thing for him now. Bed rest. Aspirin--'
'Euthanasia,' said Soul caustically. 'He's writing to Saelbeth. What are we going to do about Saelbeth, by the way? I'm not sure if he's canon or not.'
'Well . . .' Trojie pulled out her precious one-volume copy of LOTR, which she kept for easy reference. The presence of this book, as well as separate volumes of each of Fellowship, Two Towers, and Return of the King, plus Hobbit and Silmarillion, accounted for much of the weight of her bag of supplies. 'He's not in the index . . . Shall I check the Hobbit?'
'I don't think he's in there. Most of the elves in the Hobbit didn't have names.'
'So shall we just go with OC, and kill him?'
'But he's got a trading card, so maybe he's canon. The trading card indicates movie-canon status, but this isn't a movie-verse fic. Is it?'
'Hmmm. I have no idea. Anyway, we'll deal with him later.'
The conclusion of this conversation coincided happily with a booming Vox Dei voiceover of Legolas's shamefully sickly letter to the possibly-canon-but-maybe-not-Saelbeth.
Dearest Saelbeth,
I miss you so much. Life is so empty without you by my side. I am doing well. I've made a good friend, Glorfindel. He has befriended me, and I am ever so grateful to him for his kindness. Other than that, life is dull here without you. My longing for you ensures I cannot enjoy much else. Elladan treats me well; do not worry.
Imladris is a beautiful place; an eternal autumn with beautiful colored leaves. There are many waterfalls, though I have not had the time to enjoy them; I hope that one day I will. What I hope for more than time to enjoy waterfalls is for us to be together again in Mirkwood, in my beloved home. We must hold onto that hope, otherwise we have no chance. Do not give up, Saelbeth; do not give up on hope or our love. Someday we will be together again.
I love you,
Legolas sighed as he pressed Elladan's seal onto the paper. He fingered it before setting it down and writing Saelbeth's name on the envelope. A soft knock at the door startled him, and he limped weakly to it. “Who is it?” he called through the door.
“Glorfindel,” came the muffled answer. Legolas grabbed his robe and tied it around himself lightly before returning to the door and opening it for his friend.
“Meldir, how are…” the Elda's words trailed off as he caught sight of Legolas. The Sinda's face had several bruises, and one of his cheeks had a small cut on it. “By the Valar what happened to you?”
“It is all right, Glorfindel. It looks worse than it is,” Legolas answered softly, letting the other in and shutting the door behind him. He limped to one of the more plushy chairs and sat down gingerly. “Come sit down,” he said with a smile at the blonde Elf.

'They're both bloody blond,' Trojie pointed out. 'It's what Glorfindel's name bloody means. And note I said blond, not blonde. They're both male.'
'It is a little hard to tell with Legolasss,' Soul pointed out. 'Can we ssskip this?'
Trojie scanned the Words. 'Umm . . . yeah, I think so. There's a picnic with Erestor and Glorfindel which I'm not letting you anywhere near. . .' (Soul had Ideas about who should be paired with whom which she was usually good at keeping to herself, but given the nature of the mission so far, Trojie was taking no chances. Erestor with Glorfindel was most definitely not on Soul's list -- a list she kept very quiet, since Upstairs didn't like their Bad Slashers having preferences too much); 'and Glorfindel and Elrond have a very out-of-character little chat but that's not too involved in the main plot, so I suppose we can skip it' (truth be told, she didn't want to expose Soul to any more OOC!Elrond or OOC!Erestor-loving!Glorfindel than was absolutely necessary) '. . . d'you reckon by Chapter Eleven we'll have enough?'
'By Chapter Eleven I am returning to the office,' Soul glowered, 'sso we'd bloody better.'
Trojie and Soul followed their dogs, both of whom had noses to the ground, sniffing for characters. Legolas came into view.
'Follow that elf!' Soul cried gleefully -- half an hour of character tracking, plus two cups of coffee from Trojie's refilled Thermos, had done wonders for her constitution and mood -- and charged after him. Trojie rolled her eyes and followed her partner. Legolas went back to the chambers he shared with Elladan, or whatever abomination had taken Elladan's place.
Soul backed up as Legolas entered the rooms. She took a deep breath. 'This is the other rape scene,' she said through gritted teeth. 'The big, BIG canon breach. We'll exorcise here, and afterwards we'll have to grab both canons to take them back to the doctor.'
Trojie nodded grimly. 'I'm . . . I'm sure we can handle this,' she said. 'We'll just, um, hum loudly at strategic points. Or something.' With that, the agents pushed open the door.
“There you are bereth.” The icy voice of Elladan hit Legolas as soon as he stepped through the threshold. “Where were you?” he asked, annoyance in his tone.
Legolas looked up as if he were a frightened deer, his eyes wide with terror. “Glorfindel asked me to go on a picnic with Erestor and him. I was tired of staying here all day,” Legolas explained carefully.
“You should have asked me if it was all right, Legolas. You may be my husband, but you are beneath me. You are no better than my slave, my whore. I will only share you with those of my choosing,” Elladan said coldly, his piercing gaze shattering Legolas' happiness. Legolas bowed his head. “I am sorry Elladan…” he whispered softly, tears filling blue eyes. “You were not here…”
“Master! You call me master,” Elladan commanded, ignoring Legolas' explanation. He rose and walked swiftly to the Sinda, backhanding him. “You will never leave here without my permission again. Is that understood?” he demanded hatefully.

Soul was smouldering already. Trojie positioned herself strategically in a place where she could grab the demoness if at all necessary, thinking that next time, she'd bring dragonhide gloves -- Soul tended to get pretty hot to the touch even when she wasn't outright burning. Absinthe sat down pointedly in front of Deimos. While she could not hope to take the enormous Warg-thing down if it came to a confrontation, she could at least make things difficult for her. A clanking noise cut through Soul's ire; she turned to see Trojie pulling something strangely familiar out of the Bag.
'Trojie, what'ssss that?'
'Bell, book and candle?'
'Not standard isssssue.'
'Um . . .'
'In fact, if I am not misssstaken, thossse itemssss are the eight pound bell, armour plated Book and ssspecially reinforced candle of Witchfinder CSsssM Horace 'Get Them Afore They Get You' Narker. Explain?'
'Well . . .'
Soul suddenly held up a hand. 'Explain later. We have a job to do.'
“Yes,” Legolas answered.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, master.”
“Good, Legolas. Now strip and I will show you what happens when you anger me,” Elladan said, his stormy eyes fierce.

Soul closed her eyes firmly. 'Thissss issss intolerable,' she said in a tight voice. 'Pleasssse tell me we are not going to hang around too long,'
'As soon as sins are committed, we're out of here,' promised Trojie faithfully, a grimace on her face.
Legolas quickly unbuttoned his robes and let them fall in a pile on the floor. He then removed his slippers. When he was completely nude, Legolas cowered in front of Elladan completely exposed to the cold glare.
“You are very beautiful, bereth,” the Perendhel said in mock kindness. Elladan's eyes raked over Legolas' form. “Kneel on your hands and knees,” he ordered in a firm voice.

'Perendhel?' Soul glowered. 'Perendhel!?'
Trojie sighed. 'I think we've got another Mini-Balrog being born.'
Legolas instantly complied, kneeling like a dog before his master.
Both agents picked up that line of the Words at the same time.
'Dogs don't kneel!' they exclaimed in unison. Soul opened her eyes and glared at, well, the world in general. 'I'm reassssonably certain only humanssss and maybe elephantssss can kneel assss we underssstand the word.'
'And I'm reasonably certain that this is the worst possession we've ever seen,' said Trojie. 'None of the others were OOC this badly, were they? I mean, this has bestiality written all over it. In big, big letters. Have we ever seen one this bad?'
'No.' Soul had reverted to monosyllabic answers in order to at least try to retain her grip over her temper. She grabbed at the bag, momentarily choking Trojie, around whose neck the strap of the bag was slung, and hauled out gaffer tape and a copy of the Silmarillion.
He closed his eyes as Elladan circled him, assessed him. Legolas truly felt like an object, a possession to be played with and tossed aside, nothing more.
Elladan smiled wickedly, kicking Legolas' side cruelly. “That is it, my dog. That is what you are. Nothing more. You mean nothing but a good fuck,” he whispered, lifting Legolas' face to his and staring into his eyes. “What do you think of that bereth? That you are nothing? You are not worth my time or anyone else. If you weren't so tight, I would have given you to the warriors to play with. Even though there is a so-called peace agreement between Imladris and Mirkwood, it truly means nothing. We still hate Sindar; can you imagine the fun the archers would have with you? Maybe I should let them borrow you,” Elladan taunted.
Legolas breathed heavily, keeping back his cries, knowing that to show his torture would only bring more. The words of his bereth sliced him; desperately, he attempted to recall the words of love and hope his lover had written; they were all he had to hold onto, all he had to keep himself alive. Saelbeth… Oh, but try as he might, he couldn't push back the terrible words of Elladan or the pain as Elladan continually beat him. It seemed forever until the beating stopped, but he knew the pain was far from over. No, Elladan would never be content until he had desecrated every part of Legolas' body.
Elladan mercilessly parted Legolas' alabaster buttocks and positioned his leaking member at the tight, abused entrance.
He smirked when he felt Legolas tense, knowing how much more pain it would cause the stupid Elf. Without another thought, the heir to Imladris pressed past the barrier, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke.

Soul leapt up. 'All right, that'ssss enough!'
Grabbing Elladan, she tried to haul him away from the bruised and beaten Legolas, before realising that he was in fact, um . . . currently engaged. Exasperated, Soul hauled at a more careful angle. 'You are now in the cussstody of the PPC,' she said once he was free, whilst wrapping gaffer tape around him frantically. He kicked and punched, but the gaffer tape and Deimos, who was protective of her mistress, hindered him. Finally Soul had him trussed up to her exacting standards, but he was still throwing himself at her violently. She whacked him over the head with the hardback Silmarillion and watched with some satisfaction as he collapsed, unconscious.
Meanwhile, Trojie had carefully picked up Legolas, and wrapped the discarded robe around him. He could barely stand. Clumsily and one handedly, she tossed Soul a (regulation) bell and a candle out of her bag, and fished around until she found the one-volume LOTR to go with her pilfered exorcism kit.
Soul's exorcism was executed with gusto. Trojie's was so tentative that it was a few seconds before the Author-Wraith actually realised it was being evicted. Legolas collapsed, and immediately seized.
'Legolas is an epileptic?' asked Soul, startled.
'No!' Trojie cried, trying to avoid the elf's scissoring limbs and get him into the recovery position. His spine flexed. 'This isn't a real seizure. It's an arc de cercle, and epileptics don't have those. He must be trying to die!'
'Then grab him! We don't have time for this!' Soul yelled, slinging Elladan over her shoulder and portalling to the Medical Department at Headquarters. Throwing caution to the winds, Trojie grabbed Legolas and leapt through the portal.
Fitzgerald looked up from a truly horrific picture in some medical text or other.
'Ah yes,' he said calmly. 'I got Makes-Things to beep me whenever elves and BDSM show up in the same fic. I've been expecting you.' He looked at the convulsing Legolas. 'Get him on the bed;' he indicated a narrow single bed in the corner. 'And put him over there;' the good doctor pointed to a chair. Soul propped the now stirring Elladan in the chair. Both Bad Slashers backed off as Fitzgerald tended to the frantically spasming Legolas.
'I just can't . . . comprehend,' said Soul with a pain-filled expression, looking from Elladan to Legolas, who'd stopped the frightening false seizures and now looked incredibly corpse-like, pale and waxen-looking under his bruises. 'This is just so . . . how could anyone think this was canon? Or appropriate? Or well written?' The demoness's voice petered out.
Elladan's green eyes flicked open, and caught sight of the two PPC agents and their dogs. As they all stared back at him, startled, movement caught his eye and he turned, to see Fitzgerald carefully dressing Legolas's injuries. The peredhil's eyes widened in horror. As the memory of past events caught him up, he blanched.
'Why?' he moaned. 'What have I done . . . ?'
Trojie grasped his shoulders gently, making him look up. 'It wasn't you,' she said. 'Not your fault, ok?' He just shook his head and buried his face in his hands. She stepped back.
Fitzgerald came over, pulling his latex gloves off. 'Legolas will be fine once he heals,'
'And Elladan?' asked Soul pointedly.
'Nothing a neuralyser can't fix,' said Fitzgerald. He took in the two agents' expressions. 'Look, I know it's not ideal, but I can't have canon characters here for too long, and the Department of Fictional Psychology is full. Really full. He needs to get back to Middle Earth.'
Trojie sighed, and pulled out the portal device. 'Where shall we put them?'
'Elladan should be in Imladris, and Legolas the Havens, but . . .'
'I know,' said Trojie. 'We can't portal into the Havens.'
'Once the canon snaps back he'll go there automatically.'
'So shall we portal to Imladris?'
'I would say so,' said Soul. Trojie opened a portal to the Last Homely House, and the two agents deposited the characters as gently as possible. Soul pulled out her neuralyser as Trojie handed her a pair of sunglasses.
'Elladan Peredhil,' Soul said wearily, 'you are Master Elrond Half-Elven's son, one of twins, younger than Legolas, and not a sadomasochistic bastard. The other two thousand or so years you should remember or we're in deep shit. Okay?'
Elladan blinked at her.
'And your father's over there,' Trojie said, pointing. 'Go talk to him, he's very nice really. And not in the least wet and wimpy.'
'Agreed,' Soul said vehemently. 'Very well, Trojie, let's go.'
Trojie portalled back to the response centre. As the two agents stepped into their familiar, poster-covered room, they realised something.
'The dogs!' Soul said suddenly. 'We left them with Fitzgerald!'
Trojanhorse’s A/N;
“Dear” Anestel
I would like to draw your attention to something. Rape is not ok. Rape is never ok. Also, rape is not a plot point. Rape is not as trivial as you obviously think it is. And in the Tolkien-verse, elves who get raped DIE. Yes, they die. You have just sentenced Legolas to death. Repeatedly.
*wanders away muttering violently*
I would also like to take this opportunity to point out that I do actually like slash. I like slash, I write slash, I read slash. But liking slash doesn’t mean I have to like what people do to the Twins and Aragorn (who get the rapist/general perverted bastard makeover far too frequently), and poor Legolas, who gets beaten black and blue, raped, and generally mistreated, on a disturbingly regular basis. For Christ’s sake; if you’re going to write slash, please, please, stick to canon rules about how the different species/races behave. Elves are NOT sexual ‘deviants’.
Please guys, it is possible to write good NC-17. It doesn’t all have to be bondage and rape and PWP and complete OOCness. I’ve seen it, I know it’s out there.
And lubricant is a good thing. If you’re gonna get graphic, at least make it so we don’t wince, ‘kay? I don’t think you all want a medical lecture here, but really; this is a point I have to make. And I’ve been really long-winded lately, so I’m gonna stop now.

Date: 2008-11-29 07:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sedri.livejournal.com
Be proud of me, Trojie; I got through it without nausea.

Don't let me near Anestel, or author or no, she WILL die.

On the upside, I loved this bit:
error messages ('This spleen has performed an illegal operation')

Date: 2008-11-29 09:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
I am proud. You're doing well, putting up with the things Pads and I (and Soul) spork :)

I know, right! What kind of *bitch* writes something like that for kicks?

Heh, I rather liked that one as well. Gosh, it was nearly four years ago Soulshadow and I wrote that mission. Seems like sooooo much longer!

Date: 2008-11-29 09:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sedri.livejournal.com
I think hanging around you and Pads has desensitised me.

Date: 2008-11-30 08:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sedri.livejournal.com
Quite possibly good. At least in terms of missions - I don't think I could read about Aragorn kissing Legolas or Boromir without knowing I was going to be bashing them over the head with a Heavy Book, and I'll never be a good judge of what is good slash or bad slash, but as long as someone can tell me "This is Bad and has to die," then desensitisation is very useful.

Date: 2008-11-30 08:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Worry not, we will always be around to tell you what is good slash and what is not :) And we will bash the people in the bad slash with books, too :D

Date: 2008-11-30 10:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sedri.livejournal.com
*wicked grin* Heavy books!


Date: 2008-11-30 10:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Very heavy books!

Date: 2009-02-12 09:12 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
*twitches violently* What. The. Flying. HELLS. made somebody think that was acceptable?

I was, for a while, mentally composing a note to the ficcer, detailing Elrohir's extreme displeasure at the desecration of his family's good name and libel of his brother's name. At some point I lost the thread of it, distracted by my anger.

I'd quite like to see some Erestor/Glorfindel goodslash. I fear the LoTRslashers, though. There are so many popular pairings that just are not okay for me.

Date: 2009-02-12 09:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
I have no idea. But then what makes them think that emasculating Severus Snape is okay, or slashing a fourteen year old actor with one in his thirties, or having Peter Pevensie rape his brother? Sigh.

I just avoid LotR fic altogether these days - either the good stuff is too well hidden or I'm just overly sensitive in that fandom, but ... yeah. I mean, hell, I started out writing LotR slash ... but these days I can't bring myself to read any at all.

Date: 2009-02-12 09:52 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
Seriously screwed up, yes. *cuddles twins protectively*

Date: 2009-02-12 09:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
I always keep an eye out for them on my watch, never fear.

Date: 2009-02-12 09:56 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
Thank you. I represent Elrohir Peredhilion (on Facebook, in one of the many fictional journal/profiles on that networking site), but I'm terribly fond of his brother as well.

Date: 2009-02-12 09:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Well, they are both such nice boys.

The incarnation of them I see/write most often these days is the crackfic BagEnders incarnation where they make 'special' lembas and own a surf-shop in Cornwall, but I suspect that that only makes me respect their proper characterisation more.

Date: 2009-02-12 10:00 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
Yup. I love the mischief-in-trousers characterisation some people give them.

*chuckle* Ah, I love BagEnders, for all its insane, insane crack...and craic, for that matter.

Date: 2009-02-12 10:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
*terrible unsubtle pimping of own work* Have you seen PseudoBagEnders?

Date: 2009-02-12 10:05 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
I don't think so. Believe me, I will read through the rest of your stuff. ^_^ Have you any idea what happened to the comic strip version someone did of a few episodes of the original? It was years back. I looked for them a while ago, but they seem to have been eaten by the internet.

Date: 2009-02-12 10:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Why, I do believe I have them saved to my harddrive. Would you like me to email them to you?

Date: 2009-02-12 10:07 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
Aw, cool. ^_^ Yeah, sure, that'd be great. kyria dot thalia at gmail dot com.

Date: 2009-02-12 10:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
consider it done :D


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