hamartini

[hamartini]

Conflicting Loyalties (Part 1)

Based on a dream I had a while ago + some prompting from my friend Anna. Tell me if you think it should be a love story, and who with.

It has an OFC in it and is set during An Unexpected Journey, with a little bit of book.

Warnings: abandonment, stereotypes (bias, fantasy racism?? I suppose that is what it is), mild gore and battle scenes. More will be added as the story progresses.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. If you see mistakes please let me know, but if you are rude I will ignore. 

W/C: 911

Had someone told Mero Took just a few weeks ago that her cousin Bilbo Baggins would get himself wrapped up in heinous affairs such as dragons and dwarves, she would have surely told them that they were crazy. They couldn’t be talking about her Bilbo, of Bag End. Sweet, sweet Bilbo who tended his garden and always made sure she had extra helpings for every meal. The little Hobbit didn’t have the capacity to become tangled in such things.

Certainly, anyone that could suggest the respectable master of Bag End would go on an adventure, of all things, was mad. That’s how she would have described them before it happened, and even now that it was over she would call everyone involved mad - even herself. Dragons, what was she thinking?

Mero should have known something odd was going to happen when she walked home that afternoon over a year ago and saw a big person with a grey beard standing outside the front garden. Bilbo was there too, looking mighty uncomfortable. The hobbit who had taken her in was positively flustered by the time she interrupted whatever it was they were talking about.

“Good morning, Bilbo,” she said brightly, a basket resting in the elbow of her arm. “Some fresh cakes, from Rosa.”

“Oh, good morning, Meroderada,” Bilbo said, turning his attention away from the big person. The big person regarded Mero with a quiet curiosity like he was waiting for her to explain her entire life story. For a moment she had the urge to do so. 

Setting the basket down on the steps next to her elder cousin, Mero smiled politely at the big person. “I am Mero Took, a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“A Took, really?” the man said, staring at her beneath his bushy eyebrows. He seemed shocked for a moment, before playing it off with a smile. “It is a pleasure to meet me, yes, but it is not the first time you have.”

“Oh?” Mero said, turning to Bilbo for confirmation. 

“This is Gandalf,” Bilbo said as an explanation, before a barrage of memories flooded back to her. 

“Mister Gandalf with his fireworks and his stories of adventure? Why you’ve been gone for quite some time, sir,” Mero said, suddenly very excited to be in Gandalf’s presence. “I used to give my father a heart attack when he saw me pretending to fight wolves in our garden. Cut the head off of all the roses, I did. A shame really, but then Aunt Belladonna sewed them into a hat for me so it was all okay again.

“But there is no party now, Mister Gandalf, yet I seem to remember you only showed up when there was one,” she continued, much to the displeasure of Bilbo, whom just wanted the wizard to leave his property. “So, if it is not too rude to ask, and I imagine you shan’t mind - though Bilbo might - what is it that you are doing here?”

Gandalf smiled like he knew something she didn’t, which wasn’t necessarily untrue. “I was having a conversation with your cousin here - which reminds me.”

Gandalf turned back to Bilbo, his hands on his staff. “Well, that’s decided,” he said, pointing at Bilbo. Mero’s eyes widened in shock ad the wizard’s voice got slightly louder and more authoritative.

“It’ll be very good for you,” he said. “And most amusing for me. I shall inform the others.”

This greatly agitated Bilbo. “Inform the ot- what, no, no, no, wait -“ grabbing Mero’s arm, Bilbo pulled her up the steps to the front door with him. As quickly as she could, Mero grabbed the basket and gave her cousin a confused look. “We do not any adventures here, thank you. Not today - not - I suggest you try over the hill or across the water.”

He then gestured for Gandalf to leave, surprising Mero, and causing the wizard to frown.

“Good morning,” he said, walking inside the house with a huff. Mero expected she should follow him, so with a wave to Gandalf, she reopened the door.

“Do come to tea, dear Gandalf,” she said before entering. “Tomorrow perhaps, at four, if you are free. Or any time you like, really, I’m sure Bilbo won’t mind. He does love visitors, after all.”

Mero closed the door behind her, leaving Gandalf to smile after the young Took. Mero set her basket down on the side table to take her coat off, but she was barely halfway through before Bilbo came hurtling back towards the door.

“Lock it, lock it, quickly,” he said to himself, bolting the door closed. After doing so, he walked quickly back towards one of his pantries, the basket on his arm. “A cake, Mero?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” she said, preparing to follow him when she heard a strange scraping noise coming from the door. Bending down, it sounded like a stick scratching into the surface of the door. Frowning, Mero made her way to the window, only to be scared backwards when Gandalf appeared staring at her. The old wizard winked before walking away, whistling a tune as he went.

Mero decided she best leave whatever it was Bilbo and Gandalf had talked about to them. It would only end in herself getting confused, she was sure, and Bilbo knew how to handle himself. No trouble would come to the hobbit as long as he lived, that much she was sure of.

[hamartini]

Conflicting Loyalties Masterlist

Based on a dream I had a while ago + some prompting from my friend Anna. Tell me if you think it should be a love story, and who with.

Warnings: abandonment, stereotypes (bias, fantasy racism?? I suppose that is what it is), mild gore and battle scenes. More will be added as the story progresses.

Summary: Mero Took used to be a respectable hobbit, with polite manners and a sunny disposition. That is until she is faced with a group of thirteen dwarves, her cousin Bilbo Baggins, and the old wizard she remembered from her childhood. And what happens when she finds out a secret about her mother? And how will that affect the loyalties she has?

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. If you see mistakes please let me know, but if you are rude I will ignore.

Part One

Part Two

[hamartini]

Conflicting Loyalties (Part 2)

Based on a dream I had a while ago + some prompting from my friend Anna. Tell me if you think it should be a love story, and who with.

Mero meets her first dwarf!! Things will get more interesting I promise. This chapter is double the length of the last one, more the length the rest will be.

Warnings: abandonment, stereotypes (bias, fantasy racism?? I suppose that is what it is), mild gore and battle scenes. More will be added as the story progresses.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. If you see mistakes please let me know, but if you are rude I will ignore.

Conflicting Loyalties Masterlist

It wasn’t until the next day that Mero thought to tell Bilbo of the guest that would be joining them. It took a moment for the information to process, but once it did Bilbo all but yelled. “You invited him to tea?”

The invitation had entirely slipped Mero’s mind (as things so often did) until she saw Bilbo preparing two fish teas. She had, quite offhandedly she liked to think, mentioned that they would need more food than that to feed their guest. As expected, Bilbo was less than pleased to hear the news. 

“Why - oh goodness I think I need to sit down, I’m feeling quite faint.”

”I shan’t suppose it’s out of excitement?” Mero said hopefully, guiding her cousin over to his chair in the sitting room. He was shaking beneath her hands. “By the hair on my toes, the way you are acting makes it seem as if that dear old wizard had done something unspeakable - he didn’t take your smokepipe, did he?”

”No, no, thankfully,” Bilbo said, leaning back on his chair and fanning his face. He seemed even more flustered now than he had the previous day, which was no small feat. Mero, concerned for the hobbit’s health, pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Bilbo waved her away. 

“Are you quite well, Bilbo?” Asked Mero, a frown on her face. Bilbo leant back in his chair with closed eyes, attempting to collect himself before he worried Mero. It was too late on his part, for Mero was already regretting extending the dinner invitation. “Did I make a mistake in inviting Gandalf around?”

Sighing, Bilbo rose from his chair and put his hand on Mero’s shoulder. He had to reach up because the girl was substantially taller than him (as many Tooks were), but it comforted her nevertheless. “Of course not, Meroderada. I should have done so myself, yet my manners completely escaped me. All of the talk about ad - well, never you mind what Gandalf was babbling on about. I am happy to say I managed to avoid quite a bit of tomfoolery yesterday. I can’t imagine that he should bring it up again, certainly not in your company.”

A burst of curiosity spiked inside Mero along with a childish wish to object. As much as she tried to tell herself that she wasn’t interested in knowing what had made Bilbo so unsettled, she couldn’t deny that she was slightly curious. Slightly more than curious, one might say, had they seen what she fantasized Gandalf was speaking of - elven lords, terrifying monsters, and heroic acts, to name but a few. Before she could let slip that she desperately wanted to know, she herded Bilbo back into the kitchen, noting that the time was nearing four.

“Set the table, dear Bilbo, I will quickly scrap something together for myself, and Gandalf can have my fish dinner,” Mero said, talking quickly. “I do hope he likes fish, though I can’t see why he wouldn’t, being as well travelled as he is. Though, Old Took said he once met a traveller who wouldn’t eat anything that was once living. Curious, don’t you think?”

Before Bilbo could reply, a harsh knock sounded from the hallway. Mero paused in her food preparation, turning towards the door with anticipation. Perhaps she could manage to get Gandalf to talk of his travels without Bilbo intervening to say it all sounded dangerous. A good cake ought to distract the hobbit enough. 

“I’ll get it, you continue,” Bilbo said, scurrying out of the kitchen and towards the door. Mero, too distracted now to continue preparing food, quickly put an extra plate and some bread on the table. Wiping her hands on her dress, she glanced at the clock to see that Gandalf had arrived at exactly four o'clock, which ought to have please Bilbo. Several moments passed and Gandalf had yet to join her in the dining room, so she went to investigate. 

In the hallway, she saw Bilbo standing stock still. She couldn’t see Gandalf behind the coat rack blocking her view of the outside, save for the night sky. This should have been the first indication to her that it was not the wizard at the door, indeed that it was someone quite dissimilar. 

“Why do you stand here so, Bilbo Baggins, as if a spell has befallen you?” Mero said, walking up to stand next to her beloved cousin, still not noticing that their guest was not at all the one they had been expecting. It was Mero’s way to notice everything and yet nothing if her mind was sufficiently occupied, as it happened to be at that very moment. “What on Middle-earth is that in your arms? A sword? I can’t imagine what our guest must be thinking seeing you carrying around a - why you’re not Gandalf.”

The man (Mero thought it must be a man, yet he looked like no male she had ever seen before) chuckled or made a noise that resembled a chuckle. It could well have been a hairball, but Mero was inclined to think better of people. Most of his hair seemed to be concentrated around his chin area, stretching up to his ears but not much farther, leaving a clean bald spot with a tattoo on it. Although she had never met one, it was clear that this man with his tattoos and beard was most certainly not a hobbit, but a dwarf.

“By Elbereth and Lúthien the fair, you’re a dwarf, aren’t you?” Mero couldn’t help but stare as she pulled Bilbo out of the way. The dwarf seemed quite content to walk into their home though she had not invited him to, yet she was too shocked to comment on it. Bilbo was in a similar state as her, but at the dwarves words, he snapped out of it.

“Aye, I am, lassie,” the dwarf said, in an accent entirely new to the young hobbit girl. “You’re husband here had much the same reaction.”

“Excuse me,” Bilbo said, pilling what Mero now assumed to be the dwarves belongings by the front door. “Firstly, this is not my wife-”

“A pleasure, Mister Dwarf. I am called Mero-”

“-derada. My cousin Meroderada,’ Bilbo said, a hint of protectiveness in his voice. The courage that Bilbo had managed to build up to speak strongly to the dwarf suddenly disappeared when he started ravenously eating one of the fish dinners. "Oh, oh my.”

That was how Mero would have described it as well, the way the dwarf was using his hands to tear apart the fish and stuff it into his mouth. With wide eyes, Mero watched, until the dwarf noticed her staring. Bilbo had long since moved to sit at the table, most likely feeling faint for the second time that afternoon. It was rare times like these that Mero’s Took side shone much brighter than the Baggins side she had partially been brought up with.

“Dwalin,” the dwarf mumbled through a mouthful of bread. It took Mero a moment to realise he was saying something, and only a moment later did she come to the conclusion that she had no idea what he was saying. She wagered she wouldn’t have had much more luck without food in his mouth.

“I’m sorry?” she said, looking for him to repeat himself. He paused with another chunk of bread just in front of his mouth to fix her with his gaze again.

“My name. Dwalin, after my grandfather, Falin,” Dwalin said, his gruff voice making Mero have to pay extra attention. “Your cousin said your name was Merida?”

“Meroderada,” Mero corrected, before quickly adding, “though most call me Mero. Bilbo just tries to - well, I’m not entirely sure why he uses my full name. He is the only one. You are welcome to call me either.”

“There was no mention made of a young lady hobbit.” Dwalin raised a tankard to his lips, Mero following his every move.

“Who would have mentioned it?” She asked, although by now she was beginning to suspect that Gandalf, that sneaky old wizard, had something to do with it. He had said he was going to inform the others. 

Dwalin regarded her with what could only be described as suspicion. He seemingly didn’t find what he had been looking for, because he grunted and chewed quickly in order to answer her. “The same old man who told us about this place, and your cousin Bilbo -”

“The door!” Bilbo squeaked loudly, having heard the knock quite clearly. “Excuse me.”

Mero suspected it to be Gandalf this time, ready to explain exactly what was going on. However, Dwalin seemed to think differently.

“That should be one of the others,” he said. “My money’s on Balin.”

And he was correct, and Mero would have lost her money if they had actually put a bet on it, because a white-haired dwarf walked into the dining room, talking over his shoulder to Bilbo. Dwalin greeted Balin (his brother, perhaps, both of them named after grandfather Falin) in a peculiar way that made Mero jump - they smashed their heads together violently. Shocked, Mero decided it was best not to ask for if that was how they treated friends she was wary to see how they treated those they disliked. 

“Balin this is Merida, Merida this is my brother, Balin,” Dwalin introduced you both as Bilbo reappeared with another tray of cakes. 

“Its Mero, actually,” Mero corrected again, yet she had a feeling Dwalin was not going to remember. “A pleasure, Mister Balin.”

“At your service, Miss Mero,” Balin said, bowing to her. “They didn’t tell us that one of our burglars was a lady.”

“Burglar?” Mero questioned with interest, at the same time Bilbo said the word with horror. The doorbell rang again before either Balin or Dwalin could explain anything to the hobbits. This time, Mero made sure Bilbo was safely in a seat and answered the door herself because she was certain it was not Gandalf like he was expecting.

Opening the door she was met with the smiling faces of two more dwarves, around her height. One had golden hair that blended into his golden beard, the other dark hair and a little beard, that he made up for with a large grin.

“Mr Boggins,” he exclaimed, bowing with the other dwarf. 

“Fili, at your service,” the blonde one said, followed by the dark-haired one saying “and Kili.”

“You aren’t Mr Boggins,” Kili said upon hopping inside the home. “You’re a woman.”

“Mero Took, at your service, dear dwarves,” Mero said, remembering her manners, even if she was panicking slightly on the inside. Watching Fili and Kili join Dwalin and Balin in the dining room, she whispered to herself, “We should have made tea for more than three. Now I fear we shall have no food left.”

[hamartini]

It’s the Schuyler sisters. Imma put the ham squad on one post (with maybe a redraw of Alexander), then Jefferson, Madison, Burr and Washington. Then King George, Samuel Seabury, and Charles Lee. Then Maria Reynolds, James Hamilton, and Phillip Hamilton (he a child).

[hamartini]

<p>I am continuing this???<br /> John Laurens in the Mysterious Little Town AU.<br /> There’s some mistakes in the writing (why can I never just write and? It’s not no people knows? It’s just got not gots?) Imma leave it though. Excuse the handwriting.

[hamartini]

‘The Reynolds Pamphlet’ but everytime someone says “Have you read this?!” instead it’s John Mulaney saying “YOU SEEN THIS SHIT?!?” in his Home Alone bit.

[hamartini]

*Fox News voice* Was slavery really about race???

[hamartini]

Based on this post by @lamsandmullettetext.

There was a longer comic and an actual coloured in version of this but I lost them. 

Also, a sketch.

[hamartini]

I hope that you burn. ——— Quick doodle because I am bored but don’t have time to do anything else.

[hamartini]

reblog if you:

- flinch away when someone touches you.

- panic when you accidentally break an object.

- get scared when someone walks behind you.

- feel your heart rate increase at every sudden noise.

- are easily panicked by slightly-louder-than-normal sounds.

- stare apprehensively at your bedroom doorway for hours at night.

- have trouble making eye contact with people.

- always feel either too mature or too immature for your age.

- simultaneously crave and be terrified of physical contact.

because i do all of these

[hamartini]

Hello! How are you?

moving from one crisis to another as elegantly as I can 

[hamartini]

Thinking of doing a Hamilton Au????? Called Mysterious Little Town. Might make it into a comic. Anyway, this is Alexander in the Au.

[hamartini]

Me rn.

[hamartini]

Lafayette : I want to tell a joke, but I only remember the punchline.

Hamilton : Go ahead.

Lafayette : Tooth hurty.

Hamilton : When is the best time to go to the dentist.

Lafayette : You complete me.

[hamartini]

Draw the squad/enemies. Canon era Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton

[hamartini]

New Account

My old account got deleted, and now I’m here.

[hamartini]

Has this been done before? Probably.