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shirefantasies · 3 months

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Hey ! 🌻

I really love your writings and I saw that you take requests ? 👉🏻👈 What would your headcanons be about each Thorin's company members taking care of you if you were injured during a quest while trying to defend them?

Heck yeah! Thanks for your patience as I go through the many I got 🥰 I love this request!

Warnings: minor blood/injury mentions, suggestive jokes

Thorin’s Company Taking Care of Your Injuries

Balin

✧ Sadness overtakes his dark eyes, but he knows you- you’ll pull through.

✧ Gives Oin his space to work, waiting instead where you’ll be lain afterward as he’s asked permission to help clean you up afterward. If he wasn’t so level-headed, in fact, he’d have demanded it.

✧ Can’t help but ask you what you were thinking pulling a daring move like that, but you just give him a weak smile and tell him he’s worth taking an arrow for.

✧ Pulls you into his embrace, kissing the top of your head and telling you he thinks you’re much more worth it, but thank you from the bottom of his old heart.

✧ His touch is the second gentlest beyond the healer’s, so you have as little complaint as you could at how often he changes your bandages and sits you up to make sure you are clean.

Dwalin

✧ The most stubborn. Confident you’re fine, he shakes his head at you for being reckless as he lays you down in your healer’s tent. He knows you’re a fighter- too much of a fighter, if this is any indication.

✧ Gets right in there and helps bandage you, completely unafraid of a little blood. Or a lot of blood. Nothing he hasn’t seen before.

✧ Sits beside you with his arms crossed, asking what possessed you to do that. Softens considerably when you tell him you barely thought, your love for him took over.

✧ Cue Oin walking in on his comrade passionately locking lips with his patient like life was ending that very moment.

✧ Comes across dry with his care to you, but it’s because he’s struggling to forgive himself and doesn’t know how to say it. “Don’t do that, you’re bleeding. I said stay down. Take it up with Oin, not me.”

Thorin

✧ Will be the one to carry you all the way to the healer’s bed no matter what it takes, no matter what injuries he himself sustained.

✧ Lays you down so gently, cradling your head in his hand as he searches for any light in your eyes. When you smile faintly up at him he pulls your head against his chest.

✧ Gives you space, lets Oin work on you, but the moment you’re back in bed he’s at your side with your hand in his, all but snapping at anyone who tries to take him away from you.

✧ Curses his own lack of attention that led you hear, forcing you to shake your head and tell him no, you did what you did out of love and care for him.

✧ Does everything in his power to help you in return, keeping your wounds clean and checking your temperature and staying knelt there as long as he must, telling you how much he loves you again and again.

Oin

✧ Would have been the one to do it anyway, but believe me when I say he will not let a single other soul touch you. You’re under his care and his care alone.

✧ Talks to you even if you’re unconscious, shaking his head and tutting and asking why you’d do that even as he smiles and thanks and blesses you.

✧ For nearly the first time, he finds his hands shaking as he works. If you’re awake and feeling up to teasing him about it, he just uses the moment to reiterate how much he cares for you… and tell you to hold still with a quick but firm kiss.

✧ Pulls out all the stops for your treatment, even using scarcer ingredients he’d hoarded for a long time if he thinks they’ll help.

✧ Rewards all your good behavior, whether it’s taking medicine or gritting through the pain of having things set or bandaged, with a peck on the lips.

Gloin

✧ Oscillating between cheering with pride over your amazing moves and pacing with the stress of knowing you’re hurt.

✧ Tells you how strong you are and how you’ll be back and your feet in no time!

✧ Worst thing for it, though, is just to be laying around just thinking about the pain, so he brings his games in to distract you and keep himself busy when you fall asleep.

✧ Reminds you what a perfect team you two are, for you may have taken an orc’s slash for him, but he ended up taking it down just for you.

✧ Tells you to squeeze his hand if you feel any pain. Regrets that immediately when you practically crush the life out of it, but he’ll never give that fact away for anything!

Bifur

✧ Visibly distraught, knowing how one wound can change a life. Probably demands to watch Oin the entire time.

✧ Needs a hug the moment you’re done just to feel you in his arms and reassure himself, and you cannot deny the comfort it brings you, too.

✧ If you’re the type to pick at your wounds or bandages, know that Bifur will be right there to wordlessly smack your hand away and give you a chastising look.

✧ He becomes clingier, though, in your time of infirm, not only staying by your side but always connected in some way, whether it’s a hand on yours or stroking your head or even him taking you into his arms and resting his head atop yours.

✧ Insists on some very odd herbal remedies that Oin unfortunately backs him up on, nodding and giving a gleeful grin when you reluctantly agree.

Bofur

✧ Refuses to let go of your hand unless Oin physically has to move or handle it for your treatment.

✧ Holds your face in his hands, telling you you’re the bravest most wonderful fool he’s ever met, punctuating every compliment with a kiss.

✧ Sneaks you a flask, saying taking a few sips will surely ease the pain you feel!

✧ Sings you lullabies to help you get your healing rest. Even if you aren’t trying to rest he’ll sing you comforting songs or even silly little uplifting ones complete with even the most ridiculous dance moves. Laughter is the best medicine, after all!

✧ It’s as if he knows what you need before you do. You’ll think of something that might ease your recovery and moments later there is Bofur offering it to you, saying he was thinking you might need it.

Bombur

✧ Paces back and forth outside Oin’s tent in a panic, practically flying into the flaps the moment he is allowed.

✧ Both his hands go to yours, holding it as he asks if you are all right.

✧ Starts to yank you into a hug the moment you day yes, stopping only at Oin’s reminder that that may not be the best idea right now.

✧ Brings you bowls of the best broth he could make, feeding you spoonful by gentle spoonful.

✧ Holds you in his arms and kisses you so softly as if you could somehow break beneath his loving touch.

Dori

✧ The last thing you hear as your tired eyelids flutter shut is Dori scolding you for jumping right into danger.

✧ He picks up again when you awake, but the moment you smile at him he’s lost, pulling you into a kiss with a hand on either side of your face.

✧ Tucks you in your blankets the coziest you have ever been, asking if there is anything else he can bring- anything in the world and it’s yours.

✧ Can be heard arguing with Oin about his methods, especially if they dare hurt you or are more experimental. Healing hurts sometimes, but bless him, he wishes he could take every single ounce of pain from you.

�� May dodge a bit from the blood your wound oozes, but he certainly isn’t afraid to listen to you describe your pain or what you need in any detail.

Nori

✧ You’ll wake up to him practically pouncing you onto the bed asking what you were thinking pulling a stunt like that.

✧ Kisses you again and again, uncaring of who might be watching.

✧ He has…very creative ways he suggests as attempts to ease the pain depending on the nature of your injury. And, of course, if you’re up for them.

✧ If not, a few rounds of cards’ll keep you busy just the same, and he’ll admit it’s a lot less effort.

✧ Sleight of hand skills come in handy sometimes! He can entertain you with magic tricks, deftly change your bandages with you barely noticing, steal some of Bofur’s whiskey for you to share…

Ori

✧ Constantly asking if you’re going to be alright, which would annoy your company healer if it weren’t so blasted sweet.

✧ Tries to jump in and help, forcing Oin to remind him that he never has set a bone before, has he? He, in fact, has not.

✧ The moment you’re released, you bet he’s right at your side doing everything else under the sun he can. Covering you up with blankets, bringing you water or food and feeding it to you, fetching water and a cloth to keep you cool and clean.

✧ “Don’t scare me like that,” he all but whines your name, “besides, I almost had it!” “Keyword there being almost,” you shoot back with a half-smile, half-wince. “Alright, fair. Thank you. Really.”

✧ Brags about how amazing you are and how there’ll be all kinds of stories about you. You snort and refute this, to which he replies, grinning and holding up his book: “There will be, too. I’m writing them.”

Fili

✧ Wild horses could hardly drag him from your side.

✧ Hovers over Oin the entire time the older dwarf sees to you, even going so far as holding onto things he’ll probably need and handing them to him like an assistant.

✧ Sets up his bedding adjacent to yours in case either of you falls asleep, and of course so you can cuddle him. Oh, all right, he wants to cuddle you too, you got it out of him!

✧ “You’re wonderful.” Kiss. “Brave.” Kiss. “Mad.” Kiss. “Quite the terror to those orcs, even if the one did catch you in the end. Saw some heads fly thanks to you, love.” A much longer, more appreciative kiss.

✧ Can’t sleep? Don’t fret, Fili is there to share stories of his family, of adventures with Kili, their mother, maybe even something funny about Thorin his uncle wouldn’t particularly appreciate him telling you…

Kili

✧ Carries you to bed himself. Every night if need be, he’ll be there for you or even throughout the day to support you and help you walk.

✧ When you’re being worked on, he wants to look away, but he keeps his eyes on you throughout every moment, your hand firmly in his.

✧ Definitely jokes about kissing your wounds better. Teasingly makes to lift up your clothes ‘to see the scar’.

✧ Runs for Oin the moment you express any pain; he knows the feeling, after all, and as he tells you he cannot help the guilt he feels at indirectly causing this, even if you insist it was your choice.

✧ Holds you close, resting your foreheads together as he thanks you for loving him enough to put yourself in this state. “I would do the same for you, you know.”

Bilbo

✧ Deeply insistent that you eat and drink to maintain your strength, even if he has to feed you himself.

✧ Exasperated beyond anything if you tell him you’re fine or try to get up. Gives you the look. You know the look.

✧ If you have bloody bandages, he will help you change them, just looking away and trying not to gag most of the time.

✧ Piles a near-comical amount of blankets on you, forcing you to remind him he needs to keep at least one for himself. Bilbo refuses, thus you invite him into your sickbed with you. He only accepts because you’re ailing and that overrides the impropriety of it all.

✧ Seeing you in pain is so hard, but the one thing that helps Bilbo get through it is realizing it’s emboldened him to tell you just how much you mean to him. It’s a little awkward to get it out, but as he holds your hand and looks into your eyes it is nothing but worth it.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

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checkoutmybookshelf · 17 days

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Rereading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

Ok, so I apparently internalized almost nothing when I read this book in high school. And although I have learned a lot about what you can and cannot get away with in both written and cinematic media in 11 years of higher education...SOMEHOW THIS MAN LITERALLY GOT AWAY WITH "And then the Mirkwood Elves walked Gollum on sunny days" AND NOBODY MENTIONS IT BECAUSE THAT IS TOO RIDICULOUS FOR WORDS!!! So I guess let's talk chapter 2, "The Council of Elrond," because otherwise I'm going to keep yelling about how we just casually skated over Legolas walking the Gollum.

Ok, so this is a long-ass chapter that is mostly everybody putting together narrative puzzle pieces in real time. It's practically a TTRPG. So we're just going to make this easy and chunk this reaction out by narrative, because after Gandalf puts the kibosh on Frodo going on a leisurely hike around Rivendell, we end up in this council for almost 50 pages. Although apparently even TOLKIEN knew that he had to keep this shit moving--such as it does, at a snail's pace--because he explicitly says right at the too of the chapter that "Not all that was spoken and debated in the Council need now be told." So basically, this is the Sparknotes version of the meeting, and it STILL feels long.

But I guess we're starting with Gloin, whose tale was apparently new to Frodo. I knew about the mission to Moria and how Balin, Ori, and Oin have been missing for THIRTY GODDAMN YEARS because we covered that at the party in the last chapter, or at least enough of it to get by. What was SUPER NEW was that apparently Sauron has weirdly good information about the dwarves and what Thorin and Co. were doing in The Hobbit, because a YEAR ago, a messenger from Mordor rocked up to Dain's mountain going, "Hey, Sauron wants to be BFFS, and also what do you know about these things called hobbits?" Why is Sauron asking the dwarves? Because, says the messenger, "Sauron knows [...] that one of these was known to you on a time."

First of all, I appreciate that we aren't going to get every single little piece of info here, but...HOW THE TITMONKEYS DID SAURON RANDOMNLY KNOW THAT DAIN KNEW A HOBBIT but absolutely nothing else about either Bilbo in particular or hobbits in general? This seems like a weirdly realistic information hole to have, but given the depth of the rest of the information we're about to get in this chapter, it feels a smidge hand-wavy. Anyway, the TLDR for Gloin is that they want to warn Bilbo, ask Elrond WTAF is this ring Sauron is being coy about, and get some help ASAP because King Brand is about to fold like a house of cards. Which honestly? I gotta give the dwarves props for understanding their own internal politics that clearly and being willing to cop to weak points. Although then Elrond throws one hell of a wet towel on things:

"You have done well to come," said Elrond. "You will hear today all that you need in order to understand the purposes of the Enemy. There is naught that you can do, other than to resist, with hope or without it."

Cheery, Elrond, thanks for that. And even if he DOES follow it up with "But you do not stand alone," I'm not entirely sure that this is the moment to be brutally honest about there not being anything to do but hold the line.

This is followed up by a Middle Earth history lesson from Elrond that even TOLKIEN glosses over, since it spans the history of Sauron and the Rings of Power, Sauron's betrayal, the history of the One Ring, the entire history of Numenor, Elendil and his coming, the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, and the prologue of the Fellowship film. We get a little more detail about Isildur taking up the ring--as a weregild, apparently--but otherwise the TLDR here is that the victory was...y'know, ok, but not permanent or all-encompassing.

And then Elrond KEEPS GOING to tell us about how Gondor endured, rose to something that echoed Numenor's greatness (the SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAADE of the word choice there is just savage though; like way to damn Gondor with faint praise), and then declined as Sauron re-powered; he also recounts the loss of Minas Ithil and the pseudo-loss of Osgiliath.

Which is about when Boromir pops up because Elrond insufficiently praised Gondor, and also he needs to impress on everyone how close Gondor is to ACTUALLY falling. We're going to yaddah yaddah over this first little bit, because the key piece that brought Boromir to the council was a dream that both he and Faramir had that encompassed the following wee bit of a poem:

Seek for the Sword that was broken; In Imladris it dwells; There shall be counsels taken Stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be show a token That Doom is near at hand, For Isildur's Bane shall waken, and the Halfling forth shall stand.

I don't know who controls dream visions in Middle Earth, but thank you to whoever it is for being this blunt, because humans are kinda dumb sometimes, but even they should be able to do the basics of interpretation and interpolation required in the context of the Council to go "Oh cool, we gotta send a Hobbit."

Especially since the next words out of Elrond and Gandalf are "Show them the Ring, Frodo the halfling." Unfortunately for whoever is doing dream visions in Middle Earth, Boromir is both tense, stressed, and Gondor-centric AF, because his immediate reaction is "Is then the doom of Minas Tirith come at last?" Which...HONEY...

"The words were not the doom of Minas Tirith," said Aragorn.

Literally, someone needs to get a necromancer up in here because I want to know which students (or possibly fellow faculty members) Tolkien was channeling for this exchange. Literally anyone who has ever been in a university classroom has watched this exchange play out, and I'm now having Vietnam flashbacks to the time I asked a class of students how to identify German Expressionism in a film and one kid piped up, "The actor's names are German."

Reader, that is not the answer.

But back to Middle Earth, because Aragorn has just been a sassypants at Boromir, and Boromir returns the favor by questioning Aragorn's lineage, at which point BILBO pops up and I read the next poem in Arwen's voice because Peter Jackson gave it to her in the third movie:

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken: The crownless again shall be king.

So we don't really need the most famous bit of verse from LOTR repeated here, except that I think it's pretty and also in context it's fucking HILARIOUS. Boromir was like, "Sure, we'd take help from the line of Elendil...IF WE HAD ONE" and Bilbo pops up with a SELF-WRITEN POEM and everyone--including Elrond--is just like, "Yeah, seems legit."

That is the equivalent of a lawyer showing up in court, reciting Rudyard Kipling, and everyone just...accepting that as a rational argument that supports the defendant's position. This is so absolutely ludicrous as to verge on farcical and I honestly kind of love it. BOROMIR doesn't even question it, we just kind of accept Aragorn's bona fides and move on...to Aragorn basically going "we Rangers do ten times the work that Gondor does for a tenth of the respect and recognition you get, and we wouldn't have it any other way, so SIT THE FUCK DOWN."

Boromir very reasonably drops his beef with Aragorn here and switches to "How the fuck do we know that this is the ring? Where are the receipts?" And the receipts are...basically Bilbo retelling the "Riddles in the Dark" chapter from The Hobbit and Frodo recounting his life with the Ring, which get glossed over because WE HAVE ALL BEEN READING THE BOOK UP TO THIS POINT.

This is where we get a new and quite interesting question though:

Galdor of the Havens, who sat nearby, overheard him. "You speak for me also," he cried, and turning to Elrond he said: "The Wise may have good reason to believe that the halfling's trove is indeed The Great Ring of long debate, unlikely though that may seem to those who know less. But may we not hear the proofs? And I would ask this also. What of Saruman? He is learned in the lore of the Rings, yet he is not among us. What is his counsel - if he knows the things that we have heard?"

A damn reasonable couple of questions here. I'd also want more proof than two hobbits, and I'd also be SUPER wondering where the Ring expert was, since the Ring is the main subject of this whole meeting. So this is where we finally hear what Gandalf was up to for the majority of the first half of the book, while Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were hauling ass out of the Shire.

So, I am deeply used to and familiar with Christopher Lee's Saruman, but one of the few things I internalized from reading this book in high school was that Saruman was super not chill when Gandalf called him "the White" and was from this point on self-referentially called "of Many Colors." I also remember him being a freaking drama-llama. What I did NOT remember was that he confidently said, "Into Anduin the Great it fell; and long ago, while Sauron slept, it was rolled down the River to the Sea."

WHICH EXPLAINS WHY NOBODY THOUGHT THE ONE RING WAS IN PLAY FOR SO MANY YEARS!!! Because while everyone knew that the Ring betrayed Isildur and bailed in the river, only those of us who had read The Hobbit or the early chapters of this book knew that it hadn't actually made it to the fucking sea! There was a (sport metaphor of choice about interception or interference or whatever here) from Deagol and Smeagol! Which makes it kind of hilarious that the Ring has been in hobbity hands all this time, and Sauron just...didn't know hobbits even existed. Because life is often stranger than fiction.

Then we get a rehash of Gandalf's research trips and field work to try to track down information about the ring, and a lot of this we got in earlier chapters when Gandalf was giving Frodo the cliffnotes version in the Shire. Had I been the editor on this book, I would have strongly recommended we do a little less retreading of this ground, but apparently Tolkien was anti-editor, so I'm just going to skip to end when Gandalf and Aragorn are like, "So we handed Gollum over to the Mirkwood Elves, and he's still imprisoned there to this day."

At which point Legolas immediately pops up with "Um, so actually, we fucked up. We were walking the Gollum dog and he escaped. Our bad." Which all and Sundry generally agree is a bad thing, except for Gloin, who has a REALLY DAMN GOOD POINT when he says, "'You were less tender to me,' said Gloin, with a flash of his eyes, as old memories were stirred of his imprisonment in the deep places of the Elven-king's halls." Thorin and Co. did not get their daily walkies, and that's a valid point. Gandalf full-on silences Gloin here, and that is wildly uncool of him, because again, Elf-Dwarf racism is real and he probably shouldn't invalidate Gloin's experience.

Reading this book again is REALLY damaging my love of Gandalf, I have got to say...

So skipping over the well-known attempted turning of Gandalf by Saruman and the eagles thing (I am not talking about the eagles. Find another corner of the internet to yell about that in), we get a first look at Rohan! Gandalf needed a horse to get back to Frodo, and Rohan is apparently Middle Earth's Horses R Us. Unfortunately, they're besieged by the forces of the enemy, they're paying tithes to Mordor in horses, and Theoden is probably starting to fall under the sway of Wormtongue at this point. So Gandalf gets the wonderful Shadowfax from Rohan, who is APPARENTLY A CAMOFLAUGE HORSE:

And there is one among them that might have been foaled in the morning of the world. The horses of the Nine cannot vie with him; tireless, swift as the flowing wind. Shadowfax they called him. By day his coat glistens like silver; and by night it is like a shade and he passes unseen.

I am not a horse girl (horse smell is gross), but even I can appreciate a color-changing horse that lets you haul ass across the world unseen at night. Good horse. *Pats him awkwardly on the head.*

And then we get MORE expansion of information we already largely know or could extrapolate from the available data--seriously, did NO ONE have the balls to tell Tolkien he could get repetitive?--before we come to the vital question: We have the Ring; what the hell do we do with it?

I will say that I appreciate that Gandalf knows Tom Bombadil well enough to know that he would be THE WORST possible guard for the Ring and shoots that idea down fast.

I also found it really interesting that Glorfindel was super ride-or-die for the idea of actually yeeting the Ring into the ocean, as if putting it back on the course it started when it betrayed Isildur would somehow put everything right. As if the intercept by hobbits was the problem, and not that the Ring itself is the receptacle of all evil in Middle Earth. Like, points for trying, my dude, but I'm pretty sure that magic trumps the crushing pressure of the depths of the sea floor and Sauron could summon that shit back if he really put his mind to it.

Elrond is correct that we have to yeet the Ring into the volcano, and he is equally correct that the task is appointed to Frodo. It just takes everyone a hot minute to get there because everyone keeps trying to avoid volunteering or handing the Ring off to someone who would be DANGEROUSLY powerful with it.

Bilbo's attempt to volunteer was super heartwarming and cute, but I'm with literally everyone else in the room that he's too old and the Ring wouldn't have it anyway. So Frodo volunteers, and Sam absolutely pops up, because he'll be DAMNED if he's leaving Master Frodo <3 <3 <3

HOO BOY, that was a long one, and there was a lot of graduate-level contextualizing, adding of detail, and citing of sources, because apparently Tolkien can't get away from his academic roots even when he's writing about nine dudes on a quest to melt down some jewelry. I don't mind thorough, but I'd be lying if I said that chunks of this didn't feel like unnecessary repetition. At the very least though, we have made it through this chapter, and that's about where I'm going to leave it this time. It looks like next time we'll be picking up to really get this quest moving though, and I'm looking forward to setting out with our fellowship!

#reread #lotr reread #the fellowship of the ring #lord of the rings #lotr #chapter 2 #the council of elrond #books and reading #books #books and novels

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gamerbearmira · 7 days

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(SA Thorin left Mirabel behind in Lake Town. You know...the town that gets attacked BY THE FUCKING DRAGON?!?!!)

Mirabel heard the roar and she felt darkness and rage and fire approaching. Looking skyward she paled. Smaug the dragon was here.

He was here...so did that mean that Thorin and the guys were...

Mirabels eyes hardened and she drew her bow. Sure the black arrow might be the only thing that could kill it...but she could at least draw the beast away from the town.

"Over here you overgrown newt!" Mirabel yelled and she fired some of her flaming arrows at the dragon who huffed and sneered at her.

She saw other archers aiming bows and firing their arrows at the beast but their arrows bounced off or shattered. Mirabels own flaming arrows didn't do much admittedly, but the beast did seem annoyed by them.

Mirabel quickly moved and darted along the rooftops. Think think think. How could she get the dragon away from the town for at least the children to evacuate?

Mirabel noticed the dragon looking at her and she looked him in the eyes. This overgrown pair of boots had hurt her kin, had possibly killed Thorin and Bilbo and Balin and Bombur and- no she wouldn't think of that right now.

But the point was she wasn't going to show fear or back down to this giant fucking lizard.

"Come on Puta estupido! Come and fucking fight me!" Mirabel shouted and the ones left here Kili and Fili and Bofur and Dori and Oin were making dismayed noises as she began to run across the rooftops and oh thank God that being claimed by her elvish mother gave her a bit more grace and agility.

She only stumbled once! And doing so had saved her from the dragons tail so hey! She'd take it!

Mirabel noticed it's large eyes look back towards the town and suddenly she was hit with an idea. The dragons scales were tough and damn near impossible to penetrate...but what about its insides? It's mouth and innards...and even ...

Mirabel readied her bow and stared down the dragon that looked back at her now as she concentrated.

It's eyes didn't have any armor. And they were a nice big target. If she couldn't kill it...well she could at least blind it.

It's ok dawg, she got plot armor and deus ex machina 🙏

NAH BUT SHE IS RIGHT IN A WAY??? Smaug's eyes obviously aren't; when he was in the gold, it got in his eyes and he couldn't see. You could argue the only reason his eyes didn't burn out is because he got rid of the gold pretty soon after that.

ANYWAY WATCH MIRABEL HIT THIS NO-SCOPE AND CATCH A BATTLE ROYALE FR❗❗

#my asks #my asks are open #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #the hobbit #the hobbit smaug #desolation of smaug

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quality-street-rat · 2 years

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Y/n but he's trans

Bilbo: Hey y/n?

Y/n: What's up little dude?

Bilbo: ...Ignoring that. Anyway, why do you never take your undershirt off??

Y/n, freezing in place before continuing: Uh...I do take it off. I just...wear all my layers when I do.

Kili, interested: Is that why you wear so much at night?

Y/n, wanting the conversation to be over: Yes. Anything else?

Fili, coming over: Yeah, actually. How come you never bathe and somehow smell so good?

Y/n, offended: I wash up in streams and rivers just as much as you do!

Kili: Yeah but we never see you.

Fili: Or Bilbo.

Kili: Hang on...

Bilbo: Whatever you're thinking, stop this instant. Y/n and I simply find a good-sized rock and take turns hiding behind it to bathe while the other turns their back and keeps watch.

*Everyone listening in*

Fili, genuinely confused: Why hide about it?

Y/n, sighing: Hobbits have different standards on nudity and I just...don't look like you.

Bilbo: I thought it was because you were just shy?

Thorin, interrupting: What do you mean, you don't look like us? We already know you're taller.

Y/n, grimacing: Yeah, well, that's not...goddammit I can't believe I have to do this.

Thorin, suspicious: Do what?

Y/n, raising his voice just a bit so everyone can hear: You know when the doctor, or well, midwife in your case looks at the baby and says "you have a son!" Or "you have a daughter!"?

Bilbo: ...Yes. How is this relevant?

Y/n: Well, the midwife looked at me and told my mother "congratulations! You have a daughter!" So my mother gave me a female name and dressed me like a girl and raised me like a girl and told me "you're a girl because girls look like this."

Kili, confused: So you're actually female?

Y/n, tearing up: No!

Fili, whacking Kili: Don't be stupid, Kee.

Y/n, voice cracking: I'm NOT a woman. I realized a long time ago that I felt like a man, that I WAS a man, regardless of what I look like. I got rid of my...what do you guys call it?? Womb, right, I got rid of it. I started taking hormones to make me sound different, to look different. And this, *gesturing to his chest* I was actually a few months away from getting rid of these before I landed here in your world. I'm NOT female and if you call me one I'll punch your lights out.

Thorin: Don't be ridiculous. Dwarves do not care about such things. A dwarf is a dwarf before they are anything else, gender is not important to us. Dwarrow or dwarrowdam, you are what you say you are, and if any dwarf contests that they are punished.

Y/n, blinking back tears: Whoa. Thank you. You're actually...a lot more accepting than half my family.

Dwalin: Your own family insists on calling you a female?

Y/n: Yeah, but what can you do? It's illegal in many places to even...be like me.

Dwalin: Then they are poor family indeed.

Oin, piping up: Don't worry, lad. I myself am neither a dwarrow nor a dam, yer not alone here.

Bilbo: Hobbits are more strict about such things. We often say that a son has died and there is a daughter in his place, and nobody so much as mentions it. It's simply not spoken of.

Y/n, openly crying now: Thanks guys.

#zip it matt #shitpost #incorrect the hobbit #the hobbit #kili durin #fili durin #thorin oakenshield #dwalin son of fundin #oin the dwarf #male y/n #male reader #male self insert #trans y/n #bilbo baggins

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obsidiancreates · 7 months

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Some thoughts/criticisms of Battle of the Five Armies because I'm back on my Hobbit Movies bullshit

Should've put more screen time (and by "more" I mean "any at all") into Thorin's descent into the Gold Madness/Dragon Sickness. A lot of BotFA feels, to me, a bit... meandering. Like they needed to hit a certain length but weren't fully sure how to fill it (and I think that also shows in how it's the shortest of all 3 movies, at least Extended Edition-wise). We go right from "They all watched Smaug die," to "He's been down there for days and he's as Gold-Mad as Thror." We needed more connective tissue between those scenes- even just a scene of Bilbo noticing Thorin is refusing food, maybe trying to convince him to eat ("Thorin, take your share." "I've no need of it." "You can't live on gold alone, you know, heh, ahem." "We shall see, Master Baggins.") or something like that.

I get why Smaug died in the first twenty minutes. I do! There's both story reasons as well as behind-the-scenes logistical reasons (can y'all imagine what these movies would've been like if they'd had Reasonable Deadlines, less studio pressure, and more ethical cast and crew treatment? It would've fixed any of the CGI issues, they could've cleaned up some of the odd pacing and editing moments, none of those awful "QUICK QUICK QUICK WE'RE ALMOST OUT OF TIME!" moments in the Appendices would've existed... Fuck Warner Bros, man. Peter Jackson obviously had a lot to do with a lot of the unethical overtime and expectations and wasted time/effort, but like Warner Bros also contributed to this Massively). Anyway, I get why Smaug died so early into the movie. But god, I wish he hadn't. Now I haven't read the novel to it's end in about 13 years give or take- I keep picking it up, getting a good ways in, forgetting to continue, and then picking it up and starting over at the beginning- but I remember Smaug's death being a very Little Thing in the book, since it was Third-Person limited (mostly) and Bilbo wasn't in Laketown. I know that this wasn't a moment of Inaccuracy (though honestly I don't mind most of the inaccuracies but that's for another post some other time) but it was a moment of Deeply Unsatisfying Payoff. Again, I understand why! It's kinda unsatisfying in the novel too- frankly, a lot of the ending stuff in The Hobbit is, but you didn't hear that from me, got it? I'm not sure, exactly, what I wish was different about it. Killing Smaug at the end of Desolation wasn't really a viable or satisfying option either, and focusing more on Laketown would've gotten tedious and repetitive- only so much Burning and Screaming can be made into Watchable Cinema at one time. I think perhaps a larger focus on Gandalf and his experiences with Sauron could've worked here- especially if Sauron is somehow Aware of Laketown falling and uses this to mock and torment Gandalf, speaking of how the quest of the dwarves has truly failed and Middle-Earth is soon to fall the same way- but again, I understand why they didn't do that, that's just a lot of Ian McKellen sitting in a birdcage getting Taunted by an Eyeball. So I don't know what I would've had them change, and I think a not insignificant amount of this Dissatisfaction is unavoidable given the glossed-over nature of the very same plot point in the book. But it's still saddening, especially since they nailed Smaug so well and he's such a fun villain to watch on screen. Azog... a good deal less so.

Bro we couldn't have had one line where they were like "OH GOD FILI KILI BOFUR AND OIN ARE STILL DOWN THERE!" when they were watching Laketown burn? One show that someone remembered FOUR OF THEIR PARTY IS STILL THERE?!

Some of the line deliveries in this movie were an... interesting, choice, to make into the final cut. I'll chalk it up to Those Damn Studio Deadlines, though.

I know I already talked about this but SERIOUSLY WHERE WAS THE CONNECTIVE TISSUE OF THORIN'S MADNESS, IT AIN'T EVEN IN THE EXTENDED THE EXTENDED IS MOSTLY THE ACTUAL BATTLE (plus the Best Scene In The Movie where Balin alludes to Bilbo to keep the Arkenstone hidden forever, which it's a crime that was left out of the theatrical by the way).

Yeah okay the Kili and Tauriel parting at the shore was kind cliched and acted weird. Again I'll chalk it up to The Deadlines.

If we could've have had the Connective Tissue scene(s), I wish the reunion with Bofur, Oin, Fili, and Kili had been a proper scene and not just a quick cutaway. It would've been a great opportunity to catch them and the audience up on Thorin's condition and how he got to that state, as well as establish how The Company In General feels about it earlier into the movie.

Again, I know why they didn't... but even a hint that the Madness was taking the other Dwarves at least a little bit would've been nice. I truly feel that, by the time of The Ramparts, the party was at a point where at least 1 or 2 of them would've decided to go with Bilbo, and a hint that they're all slightly under the spell of the gold in the way Thorin is would've really made their decision to all 12 of them stay behind make more sense. Yes, Thorin is their king and their leader and their friend and Dwarves are known to be very loyal- but Bilbo has stood in as a leader, rescuer, and friend often enough that I think one or two of the party, in their own fully right minds, would've chosen to go with him, especially after witnessing such a horrific display from Thorin.

The pacing of the movie in general Needs Some Help, that can't go unsaid- but again, Those Damn Deadlines. The amount of palpable stress from the crew in the Appendices is genuinely stressful and heart-wrenching, and I blame the majority of my issues with this movie- and the other two- on Warner Bros being completely unreasonable with their time expectations. Especially since they pushed this 2-movie project into being 3 movies, like Fuck off, Warner Bros.

GOD I WISH MORE OF THE RING STUFF HAD CARRIED OVER FROM DESOLATION. Like again I get why it didn't, this movie kind of takes some of the focus off Bilbo and uses that extra attention on Thorin and Bard and Legolas, which I enjoy. But still, The Ring Moments in Desolation were so good, and the effect The Ring had on Bilbo in Desolation is not unlike the effect the gold has on Thorin- but Bilbo is better at fighting it. It would've been nice to see something done with that, especially as Thorin was falling to madness and Bilbo maybe recognized some of the signs from his own experiences like the one in Mirkwood. But also THE RING STUFF WAS SO COOOOOOLLLLLLLLL I WANT MORE OF ITTTTTTTTTTTTTT

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porphyriosao3 · 2 years

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#6 Sweet Treats

A cold wind whipped through the tent where Bilbo knelt, deft fingers checking the pulse and flipping back covers to examine bandages. Thorin and Kili were recovering but Fili... wasn't. Somehow. After their journey together, Bilbo felt like the young dwarf was his own family by now; with a brief flush, he remonstrated with himself that it had absolutely nothing to do with how he might feel about the boy's actual uncle. Kili and Thorin had suffered massive wounds, but their flesh knit back together like nothing the hobbit had ever seen; Fili, though... Fili just sort of lingered. His leg had been broken and was set. That part seemed straightforward enough. He had any number of small cuts and minor stab wounds, all of which were healing nicely. The issue was that he had hit his head when he fell. That, Oin said, was worrying. Even more worrying (though not spoken aloud) was the length of time he had been out. They were on the third day, and Oin had been reduced to dripping water into his mouth with a rag. Past a certain point, the young dwarf’s body would die anyway, no matter how healthy the rest of him was.

"Oh Fili," Bilbo sighed, having checked all the signs and found the usual nothing. "Won't you wake up?" There was, of course, no response. He took one enormous hand in the both of his, reflecting for what seemed the thousandth time on how huge the dwarves hands seemed compared to the rest of them. "I'll... I'll make you anything you want? You know I can cook, you certainly ate enough of my food in my house." He felt silly saying it, but continued speaking, describing all sorts of foods he had made and trying to lure the young dwarf back to consciousness through hunger if nothing else. After a few minutes he was stunned when Fili shivered and actually moved. Gummy eyes fought to open, and he groaned. Bilbo shouted urgently for Oin.

"Wan'..." he said, trying to move and being restrained by a hobbit. "Wan' burûmpí." The sounds of Thorin bellowing to know what was going on were a familiar counterpoint by now.

"Fili my lad," said a grinning hobbit, "I don't know what that is but I will go to Valinor itself to get it for you if I have to. Welcome back."

"Bombur, just the dwarf I was looking for!" Bilbo said, startling the heavy dwarf as he examined a pot in what was about to be the camp kitchen. This room had been the communal kitchen for one of the barracks near the gate, and the stove had a stack of fresh firewood from somewhere. Cooking gear that had survived or been scavenged from who knew where in the mountain sat around in various states of repair, ranging from usable to scrap metal. Some reborn kingdom, Bilbo sighed; they were lucky to have running water, no matter how many stories Thorin told of the technical and mechanical marvels of the place before the dragon came. Still, he supposed, it was still better than a campfire in the hallway. Somewhere to start, after all.

"Master Baggins," Bombur said with a shy smile. "I'm afraid I don't have any food cooked at the moment, but..." Bilbo shook his head; good heavens, are we back to this, then?

"Bombur," he said in a disbelieving tone, "after all we've been through, are we really back to Master Baggins? Good heavens," he flopped down with a sigh on a nearby stool, ignoring the other dwarf's broadening grin. "I apologize for whatever I did, and I assure you I didn't mean it when I did it or even know about it! Master Baggins indeed!"

"Well, you are courting the king," he said, picking up the pot again and eyeing it. "Trash," he sighed sadly, throwing it into a heap of useless pans by the door. "Most of this cookware isn't fit to serve pigs in after almost 200 years."

"Regardless of who I may be courting, gossip hound," Bombur guffawed at that, "we are companions and I will not have you referring to me like I'm some sort of, of bill collector, showing up round your door! Hmph," he grumped, eyes dancing.

"As you wish, as you wish," Bombur chortled, "so what brings you to the kitchens? If you've actually got any food to deliver to me, I may have to fight Thorin because I think I'll fall in love with you on the spot." Bilbo pushed down that mental image; the dwarf he had was quite enough, thanks, even if Bombur was quite the catch by Shire standards.

"Afraid not," Bilbo sighed, "but tell me... what is brumpee?" At Bombur's blank look, he said "Some sort of dwarven food, I'd imagine, maybe a dessert?"

"Ahhh, you mean burûmpí!" Bombur beamed at Bilbo. "Where did you hear of that?"

"Well, you see, it's sort of a funny story," Bilbo said with a weak smile. As he told the story to Bombur, the other dwarf nodded.

"Ah, well, that makes sense. Burûmpí is a pain to make, and it's not something we had often in the Blue Mountains; no wonder the boy has such fond memories of it. He and his brother loved their sweets! Apparently they still do." Bombur examined a skillet, testing the handle to see if it was still attached properly, then grunted and set it on the stove.

"So what's in it?" Bilbo was forced to ask, and Bombur looked upwards to remember.

"Well... basically it's a sort puff pastry bundle stuffed with honeyed almonds with a sweet sauce over it. The pastry is pretty straightforward, but the sauce takes for bloody ever to make and needs someone to stand with it. It's made of raw sugar, goat milk and some spices and you have to watch it to make sure it's not boiling, not skimming up, not curdling..." Bilbo nodded but laughed inside. Sounded like every custard he had ever made! Keep the heat even, that's the trick. But Bombur was still talking. "There's a knack to it, for sure, and then you have to cook it juust the right amount. It thickens as it cools, so if you're not careful it will be a lovely consistency when hot and then when it cools you've just got a sticky toffee pudding... not quite the same thing, you see?"

"I do see," Bilbo said slowly, "but nevertheless I've made a promise. Do you have the ingredients here?" Bombur's snort of disbelief answered that question.

"Mas... Bilbo, I've barely got firewood. We've some fresh venison the hunters brought in, some seriously dodgy potatoes and fish from the Laketowners, and that's about it. Anything you can find food-wise, I'd appreciate it. I have three dwarves who are supposed to be helping me cook, but there's not enough to cook to justify them being here. Dain's army runs on cram and salt pork, so that's something I suppose, but no, I've got none of it here." Well, the hobbit sighed, nothing good was ever easy.

Two weeks later and Bilbo had assembled the ingredients. They had turned up a giant cask of raw sugar in the ruins of some storehouse or other, so that was easy enough, just needed to be repowdered. Of the other ingredients, some had involved clever bargaining (almonds from one of Thranduil's camp cooks), some begged favors (honey from Beorn), some an argument and a... possible recurrence of burglarish tendencies while invisible (soft wheat from Dain's camp), but everything was assembled, except for one thing. One ingredient was missing still.

Where in the bloody world was he going to find a nanny goat?

Beorn laughed and said that he could "give little bunny enough milk to drown in” if he were at home, but of course, he wasn't, and home was far enough away that (even if Bilbo were selfish enough to ask for such a thing, which he emphatically was not) there was no way to make the trip at any speed fast enough to keep the milk from spoiling. The elves didn't keep livestock beyond chickens, as best he could tell; Laketown's animals were the most likely of all the denizens not to have escaped the dragon's rampage, the fires, and all the ensuing catastrophe. Dain had many goats, it was true, but they were war mounts, not food, and the chances of one of them being nursing while on a battlefield were essentially the same as Smaug returning from the dead and giving milk himself (itself? Did dragons... irrelevant, he thought grimly). It took six full days of tramping about, helping and talking and advising and asking (always asking) before he finally located a nursing goat, a clean pail, and the permission of the owner. Thorin was becoming very irritated and (Bilbo worried) was beginning to suspect that he had a sweetheart elsewhere since he was visiting so little. But at last... at last... he had his milk.

Finally.

Making his weary way back to Bombur's kitchen (by now all a-clatter with cooking dwarves, since the first of Dain's food shipments had rolled in) he noticed more dwarves were showing up by the day. Dodging a young apprentice hauling a tray of proofing loaves, Bilbo finally found Bombur quartering a deer with brutal efficiency in the back are of the kitchen that had been designated as the butchery for now. "I have everything," he said. Bombur barely looked up as the cleaver whacked through flesh, gristle and bone at the joint.

"If you aren't the luckiest one in this mountain, Bilbo Baggins, I'm a goblin," Bombur laughed, peeling off piece after piece and setting it in a large tub. "Come by tomorrow and we'll set to work. Oh," he said as Bilbo was finally walking away. "I think you should know, before you fix too many of them... Thorin doesn't like burûmpí. He's not much of one for most sweets." Tiny bright eyes peered up at the hobbit from under auburn brows. "He is mighty fond of apples, though, and look over there." A firkin of dried apples made Bilbo grin ear to ear. Dried or not, this was something he could use.

The next morning he helped the dwarves send food out as best he could, shifting the loaves of hot bread to the cooling racks and then to the baskets to go out, bowling up stew and setting it on trays which were whisked away as fast as he could fill them. It seemed they would never be done, but finally the runners slowed, the demand trickled out and they all sat down with a bowl of stew and some bread themselves for a kitchen meal. Now, Bilbo thought grimly. The real work begins.

By the time the afternoon had arrived, Bilbo had derived an absolute certainty of two things. One was that he loved Thorin and his nephews very, very much. He must. The other was that he was never, ever fixing burûmpí again, no matter who asked, unless it was literally a life or death situation. Despite Bombur's casual assurance, the puff pastry packets were beyond fiddly, and the flour that they were using was hardly the fine stuff he would have gotten from Sandyman back home, triple-sifted and clean. No, this was just soft emmer ground in a quern, and he wasn't sure it was going to work at all until an initial test showed that it would grudgingly rise if baked. The filling was the only part that wasn't fiddly, just a standard mix of almonds and honey. The packets though... Bilbo sighed. Wrapping them was (of bloody course) done in a particular way, and with a particular shape, according to a particular formula, because bloody dwarves. While they were baking in the pastry oven Bilbo squared his shoulders and went to begin The Sauce. The hobbit had begun to think of it in capital letters by about the third or fourth lurid warning from Bombur of times he had seen it go wrong.

He set the milk into a polished iron pan on gentle heat, dumping in the sugar and spices. The next step was very strange; he mixed some substance the dwarves used to leaven bread when they didn't have yeast with water, watching it dissolve like salt (though it didn't taste of salt, or of anything really). This was the first challenge, Bombur had said. He brought the milk just to a boil, then moved the heavy pan over to add the mixed water and whatever-it-was. The milk immediately started to boil over in great piles of froth, and he stirred frantically until it settled down. Fairly soon it showed no sign of its recent upset, and he sighed and put the milk back on the heat. Bombur grinned and nodded from where he was slashing the tops of meat pies at the next bench.

Now, he stirred. And stirred. And stirred. When the pastries were ready, one of the apprentices staged him so he could remove them from the ovens to cool. Bilbo was able to rest occasionally, but even so he felt like he had been beaten by orcs. After two hours the milk had reduced, darkened and thickened; a delicious heavy, sweet smell was rising from it. Bombur nodded. "You've got it. Take it off now." Bilbo was so tired he was almost too weak to shift the iron pot, but the other cook helped him ease it off to the side. "One more step, let's strain it to get any lumps out and also to catch those spices if they aren't dissolved," Bombur muttered, and at Bilbo's despairing look he grinned and hoisted the heavy pan with one hand, pouring the mixture through a cheesecloth into a bowl. "There you are," he said. "Beautifully done, Bilbo. If I'd ever doubted your skill in a kitchen, I never will again - even most dwarves would be hard pressed to make burûmpí right the first time, but you seem to have managed. Are you sure I can't interest you in a place in the kitchens?" Snorting, Bilbo pretended to throw his ladle at Bombur and the whole kitchen laughed uproariously.

Plating it up, he fetched the loaf of apple bread he had made for a certain surly, handsome king. Setting all the dishes on a tray leftover from meal service he set the apple bread discreetly behind the two plates of burûmpí . Stepping outside, he passed down the various halls with the tray until he had reached Oin's rooms of healing. He hadn't been there when the royals had been brought in, but he had heard several tales of how they had all been instructed (often at top volume by a very surly Oin) to rest and recover. He could hear the princes chattering as he walked up. As he went through the door the voices all fell silent. "What is that?" Fili asked softly.

"Did... did someone make burûmpí ?" Kili asked with eyes like moons. Thorin cut his eyes at Bilbo, taking in the exhausted and disheveled state of the usually dapper hobbit and the light of understanding dawned on his face. He was smiling as broadly as Bilbo had ever seen, though the corners of his mouth turned down a bit when he saw the tray.

"Fili," Bilbo said softly. "When you were knocked out, I told you I would make you anything you wanted if you would just come back to us. You did. And you asked for burûmpí . I had never heard of it, but Bombur told me how to make it, and so here it is. You kept your side of the bargain, my boy, and now I have kept mine. And I expect you to stay healthy and awake for a long time now, because I'm not making this again." The hobbit was grinning, as were the princes, but when Bilbo looked over at Thorin the king looked poleaxed; Bilbo hadn't told him of his bedside promise to the prince. When each of the younger dwarves grabbed a plate with exclamations of delight (which quickly turned into groans of happiness), the loaf of apple bread was revealed.

"What's this?" Thorin asked, still looking confounded. "Did you promise something to me as well when I was unconscious?" Bilbo went over and pressed a kiss into his beard, making the princes roll their eyes (luckily their mouths were full).

"Yes," Bilbo said with a small smile. "In the Shire, making sweets for someone is a courting present." He set the loaf of apple bread in front of the king, who was staring into his eyes. "Needless to say, I'm not courting Fili, but..." He grinned, and Thorin gave a small smile in return. Tearing off a piece of the loaf the king ate it and sighed. "Good?" The hobbit asked. Thorin's response was to kiss Bilbo and fill his mouth with the taste of sweet apples. Now this, he thought with a sigh, cuddling up against the king. This is a sweet treat indeed.

#bilbo #thorin #bagginshield #fotfics #fotfictober #how did I end up with a 3k drabble #someone stop me

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sweet-demiboi · 2 years

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Thorin with a pregnant FtM!Reader

When you found out that you were pregnant you had a severe panic attack.

It was as if your whole life before finding out that you were trans and accepting it was slapped right into your face.

You felt small and powerless and as if something was happening that shouldn't be happening.

Thorin found you full on crying in your bathroom, a sight that made his heart ache.

He pulled you into his arms and didn't ask for what was wrong, he just held you and tried to calm you down with back rubs and whispered words of softness and love.

When you were able to talk again you told him the news.

First, Thorin was really happy about it because you would be dads and then he realised.

He immediately assured you of yourself being a man, always have been and always will be, no matter your pregnancy.

This got you calm and you felt happy actually too, as you loved children and always had wished for one.

Your panic attacks were coming and going though, but Thorin was holding you through every single one of them, no matter what he had to do, no matter how long it took you to calm down again, he was there.

He understood a certain bit of your struggle with the situation but couldn't quite grab all of it, because he obviously had never been in your position.

For you it was all ups and downs, and not only because of your mood swings that came because of the hormones.

Your chest was aching, even though surgery had been performed on you years ago and you didn't feel comfortable thinking about what was between your legs either (you never had bottom surgery).

And you were certainly not very calm thinking of giving birth, but who would be anyway?

The weeks were coming and going, as well as the months and your belly wouldn't stop swelling.

Thorin always made sure to make you feel the most comfortable in your skin, kissing and caressing your body when you needed assurance.

And he always pronounced that you were still a man. Every single day he told you how masculine you still were and how much he loved loving a man, how much he loved his husband.

Then the time of staying in bed came, the time of not being able to do much. The time of towels being laid next to your bed, which made you a little scared.

Someone was around you always, whether it was Fili, Kili, Thorin, Bofur, Oin or Dwalin, someone always kept an eye on you, but these times you preferred Dis.

She had given birth twice already, and she understood how you were feeling, based on how she had been feeling during her pregnancy, especially so short before giving birth.

Then your screams were echoing through Erebor, and Thorin got locked out of his room in only his night gown.

Only Oin, Dis, and some nurses were with you.

Dis was holding your hand through all of the nine hours of birthing and you loved her for every second she spent on her stool, giving tips for breathing and pressing.

You swore to never have sex again that night (which you broke again).

Then you had done it.

You had born a healthy baby boy.

Oin put the child on your chest with a smile and some more tears ran over your cheeks, but this time they were caused by your happiness.

You cried and kissed your son's forehead, and then Thorin was there right next to you, crying as well, because he could finally hold you and hopefully ease a little pain, because you didn't scream of pain anymore, and of course because he was so happy to have a son.

You gave him his child after he had kissed you softly, so that you could take some care of yourself, taking deep breaths, then you felt a familiar pain.

"T-Thorin...?", you asked, sitting up

"Yes, my love?"

"I-It's starting again, I- fuuuck!", you yelled, Oin rushed to your side, checking your belly, Dis came and held your hand, talking to calm you down, but you were trapped in pain once again.

Thorin's heart almost teared apart from seeing you in so much pain and not being able to do anything, beside taking your other hand, still holding your son.

"Oin, what's happening?!", he asked, panicking.

"Looks like you're having twins."

A final scream of you and another child was born.

It was no boy and no girl either.

You had born an intersexual child. Oin smiled and put them in your arms.

You felt so understood by that baby, you cried again "Oh god", you laughed "You two are so perfect"

"They are", Dis smiled

"They really are", Thorin said, not being able to look at both his children at the same time, sadly.

Then you had to decide for the names: Your boy was Yanin (Flynn) from now on and your other child's name was Bryn.

Part 2 will be in the making 👀

#gay #pansexual #bi #lgbt #gay thorin oakenshield #male!reader #the hobbit x male reader #the hobbit x male!reader #thorin oakenshield x male reader #thorin oakenshield x male!reader #thorin oakenshield x ftm!reader #the hobbit x ftm!reader #transgender #trans #transsexual #ftm #intersexual

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lordoftherazzles · 1 year

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First Line Tag Game

Onto the next game!! I’ve been tagged by @maeofthenoldor and @myeaglesong for this one!!

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

it doesn’t matter if you share the first line of the whole fic or only the first line of the latest chapter. If you have a compilation of various fics in a single work you can share the first line of every piece or just the first line of the compilation. If there is a fic you just do not want to share skip it.

I am going to do this by my latest chapters and WIPs I’m working on, whether posted or not (not necessarily posted huehuehue)

Work in progress...

Ravenhill was silent, eerily so. (Dragonhearted, Upcoming Chapter 14)

“Thank you so much for your help today, Bilbo!” Prim’s voice rang loud and high over the assorted sounds of children running around Bilbo’s backyard. (Razzy’s Birthday Fic)

There was something truly enchanting about that nightbloom that was now encased in glass and being given the most tender love and care that Thorin could muster. (When Darkness Shines Brightest, Upcoming Chapter 8)

Currently under revision...

“So, what’s it like?” Bilbo asked, sitting atop a crate and kicking one foot as he watched Fili and Kili scrubbing the deck. (As The Tide Turns, Upcoming Chapter 3)

There wasn’t enough lavender tea in the world to keep Thorin’s nerves at bay. (Kurdu ‘abadaz, Upcoming Chapter 4)

“So that’s where you ended up…” Drogo mused, scratching his head while racking his own brain to the misery that was the day after his bachelor party. (Fuck Thy Neighbor, Upcoming Chapter 3)

Latest posted updates...

Sleep had come and gone, and Thorin had been up even earlier than normal most likely due to nerves, but he’d had the smarts to let Bilbo sleep. (Bookbinder//Songwriter, Chapter 11)

“It’s Bree-land! A whole weekend of bad choices and things you won’t remember. You gotta have some fun, ya know? Just take a look around, we’ve been to three bars already and not a single person has caught your eye,” Hamfast teased, slapping a hand against Bilbo’s shoulder as they sat at one end of their party’s table. (Fuck Thy Neighbor, Chapter 2)

A visit to Oin hadn’t taken hardly any time at all, for which Bilbo was grateful. (May Your Forge Burn Bright, Chapter 15)

Balin had been correct. (When Darkness Shines Brightest, Chapter 7)

The rainy season within the Shire was typically ruthless, albeit great for the gardens and plants outside. (The Night We Met, Complete)

This will be another open tag game, as I think most of my writer friends have already done this or been tagged, so have fun!

#raz wips #bagginshield #thilbo #tag game #maeofthenoldor #myeaglesong

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 1 year

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Returning Home Chapter 21- Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Thorin Oakenshield x Bellarose Baggins

Description: After the Battle of Five Armies Bellarose must wait for Thorin t wake up in order to decide her fate.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Guys!!!! I cannot believe I am only one chapter away from completing my second series!! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Things were a blur for Bellarose after that. She only vaguely remembered one of the Eagles landing beside them, Gandalf atop it. He helped both her and Bilbo onto it and, once the bird took flight, it grabbed Thorin in its claws and flew back down towards Erebor like it had on the cliffside before. Once they arrived Thorin, Fili and Kili (who were on the back of a second Eagle) were rushed to the Fairy healers that had offered their aid after the battle.

It took all the girl not to break down when they informed her that Thorin would live. It was a miracle that he’d survived with his extensive injuries, but Fairy healing magic was powerful. Even with the tiniest amount of life left in someone, they would be able to live another day. But, he was still in a coma so his body could heal properly. That was all the healers were able to do, but it was more than enough for the rest of the Company.

During that time Balin, as the King’s official advisor, met with Thranduil and Bard to propose a treaty amongst them, and an agreement was eventually made. In exchange for a portion of treasure from Erebor, the Elves and Men would aid the Dwarves in the cleanup of the battlefield. Bard only wanted enough to help his people get back on their feet and Thranduil only wanted one thing from the massive amount of treasure: the White Gems of Lasgalen, a necklace that he had commissioned the Dwarves to make for his wife a long time ago. As long as these terms were met, there would be peace between Erebor, Mirkwood and Dale (and the Iron Hills).

Bellarose was ecstatic that peace was made amongst the three. All three parties had had more than enough heartbreak and turmoil as it was. Of course, she didn’t have to worry about any of that. Her job for the time being was to help the Dwarves send out word to the Blue Mountains to let everyone know that Erebor had been retaken. In between that she was supposed to check up on Thorin when Oin couldn’t. Though to be fair, she would’ve done that either way just because she was worried for him. While she waited for his (hopefully) eventual awakening, Bellarose found herself often lost in thought. It was mostly about Thorin, Erebor, and the Shire.

With the quest complete her services were no longer needed. That meant that she would have to return to the Shire, where she would once again be looked upon as unusual. Hobbits were peace loving creatures, how would someone who’s seen what Bellarose had seen, who’s experienced what Bellarose had experienced, just return without a word of her epic tale? Things would be so very different for her now, and she wasn’t completely sure that she or her fellow Hobbits were ready to deal with it. Now that she’d gotten a taste of the world outside of Hobbiton, she couldn’t get enough of it. She knew that she wasn’t made to just sit in Bag End for the rest of my day reminiscing of the only adventure she’d ever gone on. The very thought made her sick. She wanted to stay in Erebor with the Company and Thorin.

Thorin. Thorin was a whole different subject in general. She loved Thorin, and she now knew Thorin loved her too. How could she possibly expect to leave after that? But, at the same time, what was to happen if she did stay in Erebor with him. After all, she wasn’t a Dwarf. And who knows how the Dwarves would feel if their beloved King courted a different race. That was, if Thorin still felt that way when he woke up. For all Bellarose knew, he could have said it in the spur of the moment. And Bellarose believed that was worse than anything else.

The day Thorin woke up was the happiest day of Bellarose’s life. It had been nearing a month since it had been confirmed that he would live. Bellarose was in Fili’s room hanging out with both him and Kili when a knock suddenly came from the door.

“Come in,” Fili called. The trio watched as the door opened and in walked Balin, looking like he’d just run here. The trio was understandably confused by the sight, but Fili was the first one to speak.

“Balin? What is it?” The Dwarf looked at the two of them, though his eyes were specifically trained on Bellarose.

“Thorin’s awake.” Those two words were enough to put Bellarose into a frenzy. She stood up immediately, then remembered she was in the middle of a conversation. She looked to Fili and Kili, but the blonde Dwarf spoke before she could say anything.

“Go to him, Bella,” the blonde said with a knowing grin. “I think you’ve waited long enough.”

Bellarose barely had time to offer him a grateful smile before she was out the door. She practically sprinted to the King’s bedroom, ignoring the odd looks she received. Once she arrived at the door she stopped just short of running into it. After taking a minute to compose herself by smoothing out her hair and dress, she took a deep breath and lifted a hand to knock on the door.

“Come in,” a voice she recognized as Oin’s called from the other side. She carefully grabbed the brass handle of the door and pushed the heavy door open.

As she suspected, she was met with Oin sitting at Thorin’s bedside. Much to her delight, she noticed that he was half sitting up/ half laying down. He looked much better than the last time she saw him. Just about all of the color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes were that same brilliant blue that she remembered. Both pairs of eyes landed on her after hearing the door open, and a smile appeared on Oin’s face.

“Ah, Miss Bellarose,” he greeted, standing up and making his way over to her. “I see your cheek has healed nicely.” He gestured to her cheek. Like the older Dwarf noted, the injury had almost fully faded aside from a faint scar that likely wouldn’t go away according to him. She smiled at him as she nodded.

“It has. That salve you gave me worked wonders,” she responded somewhat distractedly as her gaze automatically moved to Thorin once again. Oin seemed to understand that they needed some time alone, so he quietly excused himself and walked out, quietly closing the door behind him. Once it was just the two of them, Bellarose lifted the bottom of her dress and moved to sit in the chair Oin originally sat in.

“Hello Thorin,” she greeted gently.

“You’re here,” he muttered weakly. The surprise in his tone made the girl laugh softly as she grabbed his hand and leaned closer to him.

“Of course I am,” she responded in a soft voice.

“After everything I’ve done - everything I said to you…” he trailed off. Bellarose understood what he was saying, and a reassuring smile appeared on her face.

“I hold no ill will against what you said while you were under the influence of the Dragon Sickness. Balin told me what may happen when we reached the treasure, and so I knew not to take anything you said to heart,” she explained. “You cannot blame yourself for how you acted when you weren’t in your right mind. Do not think for a second that I would not stay beside you no matter what you say or do. And whether you like it or not, I am sticking to my word because I love you.” Her words looked like they comforted him based on the smile he offered her once she finished speaking.

“I love you too. And I am a fool for letting it go unsaid for so long.” Bellarose could have cried hearing that. So it wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing. He really did love her.

The duo shared a fond smile after his response, then Bellarose carefully leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his lips, which he gladly reciprocated. It was everything the Hobbit could have wished for and more. Thorin’s kisses were much like his hugs in the sense that they were almost comforting to Bellarose. She couldn’t get enough of it, and she didn’t want to pull away. They did, however, need to breathe, so they were forced to pull away. Once they did so, their foreheads came to rest against each other’s and they basked in each other’s presence for who knows how long. Because they deserved that much.

“Stay with me,” Thorin whispered. Both their eyes opened at his request, and his eyes bore into hers with desperation and love mixed in.

“I have spent most of my life alone,” he continued softly. “And I do not think I would be able to bear it if I can’t be with you. You are the one I wish to spend the rest of my days with.”

“But, your kingdom,” Bellarose trailed off quietly. “What would they think of their King courting a lowly Hobbit?”

“I care not what complete strangers may think, for it will not change my love for you,” he responded without hesitation. “Besides, I do not think they will care when they see what kind of person you are.” A smile slowly formed on her face as she nodded.

“Very well, I will stay with you.” Her answer brought a smile to his face and he carefully lifted a hand to press to her cheek with the softest touch she’d ever felt from him.

“You do not understand how much joy you have brought me,” he whispered.

“I think I have an idea,” she responded before pressing her lips to his again. Once they pulled away for the second time she looked down.

“Now there’s just the only problem of telling my brother I won’t be returning to the Shire with him,” she muttered.

“You won’t need to,” Bilbo suddenly said from behind her, making both their heads snap over to him. He was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and a small, knowing smile on his face.

“Bilbo,” Bellarose gasped, quickly standing up. The older Baggins was quick to wave a dismissive hand at her.

“Don’t worry, I heard the whole thing. And I understand. You love him, and he loves you, so it only makes sense.”

“You don’t mind?” She asked hopefully, making the boy shake his head.

“Not at all. I only want your happiness,” he responded. “And if staying here makes you happy, then who am I to object?”

Joy coursed through Bellarose at her brother’s words. Not only did he accept her staying in Erebor, but he encouraged her to do so. She turned a bit to share a smile with Thorin, who had since swung his legs off the bed and was preparing to stand. She was quick to take his arm and help him stand up before they faced the older Baggins as he spoke.

“Besides,” Bilbo continued, opening the door wider to reveal the rest of the Company (including Gandalf) standing there with smiles on their faces. “We all took wagers on it.”

“I never doubted it for a second,” Gandalf spoke up.

“Me neither,” Fili added.

“I was fifty/fifty,” Kili joked, making everyone laugh as the Company filed into the room to greet the King.

“There is to be a great feast tonight,” Bellarose mentioned as she walked Gandalf and Bilbo out of the gates of Erebor. Bilbo had decided it was high time for him to return home, and Gandalf had decided to be the one to take him. He had wished for a quiet slip out of the kingdom, but of course his sister suspected that and wished to see them off.

“Songs will be sung, tales will be told, and the Company of Thorin Oakenshield and their quest to take back their kingdom will be passed into legend,” she continued.

“And I cannot wait for the legend to eventually come to the Shire,” Bilbo responded with a small smile at his sister as they stopped. “Well, I think I’ll slip quietly away. Will you tell the others I said goodbye?”

“You can tell them yourself,” Thorin spoke from behind them. The trio looked back and smiled as they saw the Dwarves standing behind them, all with bittersweet smiles on their faces for their friend’s departure.

“If any of you are ever passing Bag End, tea is at four,” Bilbo informed them. “There’s plenty of it. You are welcome anytime, don’t bother knocking.” The Dwarves chuckled, some of them wiping away tears as Thorin walked up to him.

“Know that you are welcome here anytime, Master Baggins,” he said, resting a hand on the Hobbit’s shoulder. “You will be a guest of honor. I cannot think of the many ways to thank you for all you did.”

“Well, I believe the treasure you’ve given me is more than enough,” Bilbo responded, holding up the chest of treasure he’d taken for himself, which made both Thorin and Bellarose laugh.

“Goodbye, Bilbo,” Bellarose muttered, pulling her brother into a hug that he gladly returned.

“Goodbye Bella,” he answered, kissing her cheek before pulling away. “I hope you are happy here.” The girl smiled as she felt Thorin’s arm wrap around her.

“I think I will be,” she muttered, and they all knew she meant it. Thorin pressed a kiss to the side of her head then everyone waved to Bilbo and Gandalf as they mounted their horse and pony (respectively), riding off to the Shire.

Tag(s): @atomicsoulcollecto

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #thorin oakenshield #thorin imagine #thorin x oc

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hareofhrair · 1 year

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hmm... Lets go for a reading with Feanza!

in the dead of night, a rather large figure could be seen walking through the allies, based on the occasional stopping and going its very clear that the individual is not a local in the slightest...they wore a coat of muted colors with a nice tall collar, though with their horns poking out one could easily spot the clint of gold.

they await outside the door until addressed, and if let in from the cold.

???:I got recommended to you by Dazzet...?

???: he said it would be... "a glimpse even regardless of how miniscule to an enlightening journey." whatever the shishimied fuck that means...

they remove their coat, revealing more likely then not unsettlingly a plethora of fuschian tells, from the brightly colored fins to the symbol...

Feanza: shit, sorry, my names feanza, this is supposed to be like... a fortune telling session?

Feanza: I guess I also need to ask some kinda question...

Feanza: in the future, I know im supposed to attempt to run shit...I think my question is wither or not im going to be the one to fix shit. christ, is that to vauge...?

Shafan invites the tall figure inside with only brief hesitation after they say Dazzet sent them. They'd had more than few colorful characters in here recently, so they were braced for the unusual. A particularly wild mutant, a clown possibly. Nervous as they are of clowns, they trusted Daz never to send them someone dangerous. Their faith in Dazzet flags somewhat as the seadweller reveals herself. Oh jegus. Oh sweet ancestors. That's not just a seadweller. That's an heriess. Shafan is visibly trembling, but at the question they clear their throat and scramble for their cards.

"Right. A reading, =of c=ourse. Yeah. I can d=o that. Have a seat."

They might murder Daz a little bit for this later, but they sure as hell aren't gonna say no.

"Pleasure ta meet ya," they say, mustering a welcoming smile despite their obvious nerves, settling down in front of a low table covered by a cloth. "Nah, that ain't t=o=o vague. Can w=ork with that just fine. Just try n=ot ta f=ork me iffin ya d=ont like the answer, alright?"

Shafan shuffles the cards, humming to themselves, flourishing and riffling them like a practiced card sharp despite their shaking hands. After a moment, they reassemble the deck, holding it out to Feanza.

"Put yer hand =over it and think =of yer questi=on," they say, and wait for her to do so. "Then ch=oose three cards."

They let her do so, gesturing for her to lay them face down on the table.

"Awlright, let's see what we've got," they say, cracking their knuckles and beginning to calm down a bit as they get into their groove. They tap each card with a claw, then flip the first one, The Wheel.

"Bringing =out tha big guns right away, I see," Shafan says. "Supp=ose that makes sense given what yall g=ot g=oin =on. So, tha Major Arcana tells a story, and tha Wheel is tha halfway p=oint in that st=ory, tha turning point. It represents change, and cycles of change. That's what yer after, right? Well, it's what yer gonna get. Change is c=omin, n=o matter what y=ou d=o. N=o tellin what shape that change is g=onna take, but rest assured, it aint all up ta y=ou."

They turn over the next card and whistle under their breath. It's the Tower.

"N=ow, tha T=ower gets a bad rap," Shafan says quickly. "Pe=ople tend ta say it means disaster and st=op there, but that aint tha wh=ole st=ory. See, in tha story this tower came from (or one of em anyway), tha tower kept fallin over, on account of there was a pit below it, and two dragons inside, fightin to the death. Until them dragons was dealt with, tower could never be rebuilt. And that's the point of tha Tower, tearin shit down so you can build it up right again. Means havin tha courage ta break what needs to be broken. I don't think yer short a courage, but maybe yall need a reminder a why tha shit needs ta be torn down. Tha point a all that demo is tha rebuildin, feel me?"

They flip the last card, nodding thoughtfully.

"The Seven of Cups," they say. "represents choices. You've got a lot a choices ahead of ya, and some of em lead ta what you're after, and some of em lead ta disaster. What matters is, ya can't Monty Hall this shit. Ya gotta commit. There's a course a action ya know ya ought ta be takin, and if yall don't buckle down and follow that course to tha end, ya aint gonna get nowhere ya want ta be. That's what yer really down here talkin ta me about tonight, aint it? You're not sure about yer decision. Yer wobblin. Thinkin, maybe I won't make a difference, maybe it's not enough. Well I'm here ta tell ya, whatever ya do, it's gonna be a hell of a lot better than nothin."

They sweep the cards up and back into the deck with a decisive gesture.

"Hope that was what ya wanted ta hear," they say. "Want me ta keep goin? Or ya got what ya need?"

#asks #tarot reading

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delicatenightfury · 1 year

Text

Star of the Mountain: Chapter 9

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Fili glared at the goblin nearest to him, shrugged his shoulders rather violently to get the foul creature to remove its grip on him. The company had fallen into a trap by sleeping in that cave and were now captives of a massive horde of goblins, led by a giant goblin with a horrid voice. They were all horrid.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Search them!” the so-called Goblin King shouted. “Every crack! Every crevice!”

Once again, the dwarves were roughly shoved around as the goblins stripped them of every weapon and trinket of value they could find. Fili’s eyes widened when he saw one goblin pour candle holders, silverware, and other items out of a bag.

“It is my belief, your great protuberance, that they are in league with elves!”

He was handed a candle holder.

“‘Made in Rivendell,’” the Goblin King read before scoffing. “Second age. Couldn’t give it away.” He threw the candle holder off the platform. “What are you doing in these parts? Speak!”

Thorin went to step forward, but Oin stopped him.

“Don’t worry lads, I’ll handle this,” he said. He turned to look at the goblin.

“What’s this? No tricks! I want the truth! Warts and all.”

“You’re going to have to speak up. Your boys flattened my trumpet.”

“I’ll flatten more than your trumpet!”

The Goblin King pushed himself from his “throne.” Just as an uproar was about to break out, Bofur shoved his way to the front.

“If there’s more information you want, then I’m the one you should speak to!” Everyone paused to listen to him. “We were on the road. Well it’s not so much a road as a path. Actually it’s not even that, come to think of it. It’s more like a track. Anyway, point is, we were on this road like a path like a track, and then we weren’t. Which is a problem because we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday.”

“Visiting distant relations,” Dori added.

“Some inbreds on my mother’s side.”

“Shut up!” The goblins quivered in fear around them. “If they will not talk, then we’ll make them squawk! Bring up the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the youngest!”

He pointed toward Ori.

“Wait!”

Again, everyone paused at the voice. Thorin moved forward through the crowd. Fili couldn’t help but admire him. Even trapped amongst goblins, he still commanded the attention from those around.

“Well, well, well,” the Goblin King said. “Look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain.” Fili clenched his jaw at the mocking tone the goblin used, as well as the mocking bow. “Oh, but I’m forgetting, you don’t have a mountain, and you’re not a king! Which makes you nobody, really. I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just a head. Nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. An old enemy of yours. A pale orc, astride a white warg.”

Fili felt his blood run cold at the goblin’s words.

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed,” Thorin said. “He was slain in battle long ago.”

“So you think his defiling days are done, do you?” The Goblin King turned to a smaller goblin. “Send word to the Pale Orc. Tell him I have found his prize.”

As the goblins set off to do their master’s bidding, the ones surrounding the company began shoving them around and taunting them. Fili glared at any that dared touch him, throwing their disgusting hands off quickly.

Suddenly, a sound caught his attention. Goblins were shrieking behind them, screaming. It sounded like a fight. He saw almost a dozen goblins disappear back down the bridge to check it out. The fighting sounds died down a few moments, but was followed by goblin laughter and jeering.

“What on earth is that racket!” the Goblin King shouted.

Fili looked over at the dwarves and goblins, trying to determine what was going on. The dwarves murmured amongst themselves, also looking for answers. Fili stared down the old bridges, noticing shadows coming forward. A large group of goblins appeared a moment later, pushing Oreliell and Vedis along with them. Their appearance caused the goblins to stir even more.

“What is this?” the Goblin King asked.

“Oreliell! Vedis!” Kili shouted. Fili looked quickly at the Goblin King and was grateful when he didn’t seem to respond to Kili’s call.

The goblins continued to push the sisters forward, through the company, until they were before the king. Fili tried to get a look at them. They appeared in one piece, though a little worse for wear. Their hair was disheveled and their clothes were torn in places. Their swords were thrown on the ground in front of them.

“Female elves! First dwarves, now elves? Why are you here?”

Neither sister spoke. But they stood tall in front of the Goblin King. Evidently unhappy, the Goblin King frowned. He must have made some kind of move because the smaller goblins suddenly moved. One hit Oreliell across the back with something resembling a whip while another used a stick to knock out the back of Vedis’ knees. Both fell to the ground, giving other goblins an opening to attack them.

“No!” Thorin called.

This caught the Goblin King’s attention and his beady eyes darted between the company and the sisters.

“So, you know them,” he hummed while his servants continued their assault. He laughed, throwing his head back. “Elves amongst dwarves? How unusual. What are they to you? Your mistresses?”

Thorin growled. He and several others tried to step forward, but the goblins pushed them back, resuming their shoving. Fili pushed harder against the goblins. He saw the others fighting back too, some trying to get to Oreliell and Vedis. Fili did his best to keep his eye on them. They were being hit left and right, with fists and clubs.

One grabbed Oreliell’s arm, its fingers gripping onto her sleeve. Oreliell swung her arm hard, throwing the goblin away and off the platform. But in the process, her sleeve tore, revealing her forearm. Several goblins nearby shrieked.

The Goblin King suddenly gasped.

“What’s this?!” he shouted, his voice nearly shrill in fear but also twisted satisfaction. “Hunters?! Here? In my kingdom! Bring the whips! We’ll teach these elves what happens to hunters here!”

“No!” Fili shouted, trying to get to the sisters.

Another goblin shrieked, causing the Goblin King to whip his head to the side.

“I know that sword!” he cried, physically recoiling this time. “It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks!” The goblins started whipping the company, not caring who they hit as long as they hit someone. “Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!”

Goblins managed to separate Thorin from the group and threw him to the ground. The dwarves and the elves were doing their best to fight off the goblins, throwing them off the platform when they could, but there were simply too many.

Suddenly, a burst of light filled the large cavern. Everyone is thrown from their feet, shocked by the burst. It’s silent for a moment as they all try to figure out what had just happened. Fili groaned as he sat up, looking toward where the light had come from.

Gandalf!

“Take up arms,” he said, sword and staff in hand. “Fight. Fight!”

The elves were the first to move, followed soon after by the company. They quickly got to their feet and bought back. The dwarves tossed swords and axes and other weapons amongst each other, killing whatever creatures came in their pather.

Fili threw a dagger into the head of one goblin before stabbing another in the chest. He paused only a moment to breathe, but heard a growl behind him. He turned quickly, shocked to then see the goblin fall without its head. Vedis was standing there, bloody sword in hand.

“Thank you,” Fili said. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. She tossed him his dagger back, giving him a slight smile before getting back to the fight.

“Follow me!” Gandalf cried. He ushered them down another bridge. “Quick! Run!”

The tunnels were a blur. Goblins were coming from every direction. Left, right, up, down, swinging from other balconies, head on. It was madness. The company pushed their way through, making a path. Every now and then, small groups would get separated, but quickly regrouped thanks to the watchful eyes of the elven sisters.

The company followed Gandalf onto another bridge, but stopped suddenly when the Goblin King burst through the boards.

“You thought you could escape me,” he taunted. “What are you going to do now, wizard?” Gandalf knocked him off balance and sliced through his stomach by several inches. The goblin howled, falling to his knees. “That’ll do it.”

Gandalf swung his sword once more, slicing through the Goblin King’s throat. The giant creature collapsed. And as a result, the bridge rattled and shook.

“Hold on!” Oreliell shouted.

The dwarves had only a second to brace themselves before they started falling. The bridge barely held together as it crashed through other structures, slowing down only briefly before hitting the bottom of the cave floor. The dwarves groaned in discomfort. Planks of wood were heavy on their chests, some laying on top of one another through the levels.

“Well that could have been worse,” Bofur said.

Suddenly, the body of the Goblin King fell on top of them, significantly increasing the weight on the company. Several dwarves swore loudly.

“You have got to be joking!” Dwalin groaned.

Fili pushed himself free of the rubble, taking a moment to find his balance. He looked through the pile, thankful to kind Kili also in one piece. However, he watched as Kili’s gaze was fixed upward and panicked.

“Gandalf!” he cried.

Fili looked up. Hundreds of goblins were streaming down the slopes of the cave and toward the company. Fili quickly grabbed his brother and pulled him up, glancing over him briefly to make sure that he was truly in one piece.

“There’s too many!” Dwalin said as he helped Nori up. “We can’t fight them.”

“Only one thing will save us,” Oreliell said, helping Balin steady himself. “Daylight.”

“Come on!” Gandalf said, taking off again. “On your feet!”

Vedis stood at a passageway and ushered everyone through. Gandalf quickly took the lead, the sisters falling to the back to ensure no one fell behind. They could still hear the screams of the goblins behind them.

“There!” Dori shouted, spotting a light up ahead.

Fili suddenly noticed the Oreliell stop behind him, causing him to also stop and turn.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“If we collapse the tunnel, they won’t be able to reach us,” she said. “Or at least we’ll buy ourselves time. Someone help me!”

Dwalin and Gloin pushed back toward them, swinging their axes and hammers at the rocks. With only a few swings, the tunnel started collapsing.

“Go!” Oreliell said, pushing them forward. “Come on, Bombur!”

They ran past Gandalf, blinking wildly for a moment at the sudden light. It was late evening. The sun was going to be setting soon, making Fili glad that Oreliell had thought of collapsing the tunnel. They hurried down the hill as fast as they could, weaving through trees.

More than halfway down, the company started to slow. Gandalf began counting them all.

“Six, seven, eight, nine… Bifur, Bofur… that’s eleven… Fili, Kili, Oreliell… fourteen… and Bombur. That makes fifteen.” He sighed, but after a moment Gandalf started to look around. “Where’s Bilbo? Where is our Hobbit?”

The dwarves looked around, finally noticing that Bilbo was not with them.

“Curse the halfling!” Dwalin said. “Now he’s lost?!”

“I thought he was with Dori!” Gloin said.

“Don’t blame me!”

“Well, where did you last see him?” Gandalf said.

“We didn’t see him in the tunnels,” Oreliell offered. She looked slightly stressed that they had lost Bilbo.

“I think I saw him slip away,” Nori said, “when they first collared us.”

“What happened exactly?” Gandalf demanded. “Tell me!”

Thorin stepped forward, a scowl on his face.

“I’ll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He’s thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.”

#The hobbit #Tolkien #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #Thorin Oakenshield x oc #Thorin x oc #Thorin Oakenshield x elf oc #Thorin x elf oc #Thorin x elf #The hobbit oc #Fan fiction #Star of the mountain

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shirefantasies · 3 months

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Hi Marti! I think I've got a doozy for ya, hope your up for it. How do you think The Company of Thorin Oakenshield would go about trying to set two folks up, like romantically? What's everyone's like technique I guess- who's more straightforward with introducing people to eachother, who's a background guy like manipulating things so the two potential lovebirds end up sharing space at a public event, who's talking up the other person when they aren't around, who's explicitly like 'you and this person would make a cute pair.' and. and and and- most importantly- how does this change if this involves their brothers/relations? I'm grinning so damn hard rn, I believe in you!

I'm absolutely obsessed with this ok??? YES 🅱️LS (also, portraying this like it’s you & another company member hehe)

Warnings: a suggestive joke or two

How Thorin’s Company Would Set You Up With Someone

Balin

✧ Sensible, subtle, simple. His approach will be more along the lines of getting you and his target to spend more time together.

✧ He’ll ask you both to go complete a task like gathering firewood together.

✧ As you two (even if forcibly) are spending more time together, he might start bringing them up more, daring to ask a question about that.

✧ One tell he has is the proud, sly little smile that can sometimes be seen upon his face as you two interact.

✧ When you two actually get together, he makes his grand reveal, smugly telling you both he’s been around long enough to be able to tell when two are right for each other.

Dwalin

✧ Has no clue what he’s doing, frankly, and likely is only doing it because his brother or someone else roped him into it.

✧ Or else he has a really strong protective instinct toward you, the other company member, or both. Then it becomes a matter of greater urgency, more based upon the concept of making sure you are with someone he trusts. Simply put, no one else will do.

✧ Rather than wax poetic, Dwalin prefers putting you in situations that display his target’s skills and worth. If they’re a fighter, he’ll send them in to save you, for example.

✧ Very subtle with the stereotypical ‘wingman’ comments, but they're there. “Looks like you got rescued today, eh?” "You know, if there's anyone I trust for help with that, why it would have to be..."

✧ His eyebrows raise when you actually announce this very soul to the company as your one, but he's the first to clap hands to your shoulders and bring up a shout of celebration.

Thorin

✧ By far the most awkward about it- he can barely process his own feelings, let alone others’.

✧ “I- I just want you to be happy.” Hopes you know what he means by that, but it’s a coin toss honestly.

✧ Relents and assigns you two joint tasks like unsaddling the ponies or gathering firewood, hoping that’s enough to help draw you closer.

✧ If one of you expresses any sort of heavy emotion, he actually does a really good job relating it to the other’s experience and directing you that way, prompting a heart-to-heart.

✧ Smiles widely and pulls you both lightly into his arms at the news, taking it as a sign of continuation and prosperity to come.

Oin

✧ Surprisingly one of the more discreet ones.

✧ Makes a lot of conversation as he patches you up anyway, so teasing questions about who amongst them you fancy most just seem to come with the job.

✧ Little do you know that the moment you spill, Oin turns around and starts teasing the other party about what a catch you are. What? He’s getting older, let him have his fun.

✧ He makes you his nursemaid of sorts to help the next time they get hurt. If you take great issue at such sights he’ll just ask you to keep them company upon being patched up.

✧ “I said it would be a match, and a match it is!” He calls out, fists pumped into the air at your revelation.

Gloin

✧ Physically shoves you in the direction of his intended target under the guise of merriment. Not hard, just enough to get them to turn and look at you and see the moment's right.

✧ Comes up with team games so you two can be on a team against him and whichever friend or brother he's roped in that time.

✧ Finding out if your feelings are true is in the interest of his betting pool, so Gloin is not above asking you the occasional alluding question, usually a small one like what your type is.

✧ The first to laugh heartily and slap you on the back if you display any sort of flirting behaviors!

✧ Shouts with wild abandon when you come out with it, racking up all his sacks of coins with glee before he grabs you two and gives you an affectionate, proud shake!

Bifur

✧ Silent observers are some of the most deeply perceptive individuals.

✧ Thus, whoever’s end it’s on, Bifur can see feelings blossoming, his head bobbing back and forth between you two with interest at nearly every interaction.

✧ Eagerly employs some rather…unorthodox… methods of seeing you set up. “I can steal his socks and give them to you so you can be the hero who finds them!”

✧ Begins telling both you and his intended match heavily exaggerated stories of each other’s great feats, completely unaware of the separate conversations about them you’ll then have.

✧ Grabs your hands and joins them when he hears the news, nodding and clapping proudly!

Bofur

✧ Can be obvious about it, but still one of the most natural.

✧ Throws an arm around you both, all but dragging you over to the fire to sing and dance with him…and more importantly each other!

✧ He’s often off doing the laundry, so he oh-so-innocently spills something one day and asks his target to surrender their shirt…right in your full view, of course!

✧ Pulls you into more jokes with whoever fancied, teasing them and then calling you out by name to join in: “Isn’t that right?” He winks at you the moment you look at him, the scoundrel!

✧ “See, didn’t I tell ya it was meant to be? Nothing but blessings from me, you two.”

Bombur

✧ Finds himself smiling and clasping his hands whenever you two interact. Maybe he can help it along...

✧ Excuse king. “Say, could you go fetch ‘im for me? …Why? Oh, because I borrowed something the other night.” “Can you sit there? It’s just I’m a bit warm, so I’d like to be further away from the fire if you please.”

✧ Being married himself, he understands some of the best how a good relationship starts, i.e. with a firm friendship. Thus he starts talking to you both and joking around more to make memories that bring you together!

✧ Also gives his targets credit for anything. “Lost one of my gloves the other day ‘n’ you’ll never guess who found it!”

✧ Beams and offers the biggest bear hugs he can when you announce your relationship. Bragging rights who? Bombur just loves love.

Dori

✧ Lives for the drama anyway, but general investment would grow tenfold if that person happened to be one of his little brothers.

✧ The questioning sort, suddenly asking you things like if you’ve ever considered settling down after this is all over and if so, any inklings with what type of person?

✧ Suddenly he can’t speak highly enough of this person even if it’s not one of his siblings, tossing it into your teatime conversations how they’re that strong or this skilled or he hears that family crafts the finest courting beads if he’s one of the dwarves.

✧ It’s enough that you pick up on what he’s doing and tell him that well, if that company member is interested then they’d best just tell you, prompting Dori to rush to them and try to convince them to confess.

✧ Whether they need the push or not, Dori’s target eventually makes a move, leaving the older dwarf to brag like a proud father, uncle, big brother, you name the dynamic he can do it!

Nori

✧ Not shy about any part of the whole affair. Watches you both with a shit eating grin.

✧ “So, if it had to be anyone there, who’d it be? …what, I can’t be the first one to be asking that, can I?”

✧ Heavily contemplates going the jealously route. Barring you getting uncomfortable, Nori starts being far more friendly with you and putting his arm around you more often to see what his target does.

✧ Proceeding, of course, to teasingly confront them about it later. “What, did it bother you? Wonder why. Maybe you oughta take that up with ‘em, then.”

✧ Some company members bought his act a little too well, gazes swiveling between you and your match and Nori himself as if expecting him to now be jealous.

Ori

✧ Surprisingly great at matchmaking- his fear of being discovered keeps him very very discreet, and he has a great sense for love.

✧ “Can you two sit right there? I’d like to get some drawings while we’ve got the time. Thank you! Oh, just a little bit closer. Little bit more. There we go!”

✧ The moment you need help, Ori knows someone who can help you! Sends you right their way with an innocent little smile.

✧ Has made it his business to have a general idea of what everyone likes, which comes quite well in handy pointing out to you that someone else in the company's got a similar interest or hobby. Grins to himself when he sees you actually approach them about it.

✧ Feels no need to come out and announce himself to you once you're together, but he brags about predicting and matchmaking you two endlessly to Dori, who listens with great pride.

Fili

✧ Having the absolute time of his life.

✧ He’s likely gotten up to this due to gaining the knowledge- or else it simply being that obvious- that one of you has feelings for the other or is attracted to them. Thus, teasing abounds!

✧ “Ever thought about it? …what? Why, you two, of course! Everyone else has, after all.”

✧ Leans on his sword or against a tree, giving his best attempt at a smooth pose as he whispers that they like you too. Yes, even if he isn't certain that you like them as well.

✧ "Finally!" He calls out the first time he sees you two kiss. It may earn him a smack, but it's worth it.

Kili

✧ Likely doing this teamed up with Fili and also having the absolute time of his life.

✧ Jokes around any time you two are paired for things. “Well you two make quite the handsome couple, don’t you?”

✧ Plays sides with whoever he's closest to, possibly with his brother falling to the person's other side. "Be honest, who do you think is the best looking of us all? What do you think of that one there?"

✧ "Come on now," he asks you directly if you have any interest in his target, especially if he knows you do, "you can tell me." This, of course, is punctuated with a wink.

✧ He wasn't expecting to actually become your confidant, but when you tell him you trust him with your news and that he's the first to know, he can't help beaming and pulling you into a hug.

Bilbo

✧ Insists to all the other company members that hobbits are the best at matchmaking, thank you. But that, of course, leaves him to prove it.

✧ Step one: food. Food is one of the greatest bonding agents known to hobbits, so Bilbo will task you with bringing your potential interest dinner and thus sitting at their side for the meal.

✧ Step two: common interests. Bilbo himself becomes something of a double agent, talking to one of you and then the other and dropping names at any good opportunity. Perhaps both of you knit. Maybe you need your blades sharpened and they've just done theirs. You could simply just have the same favorite animal and the both of you will know it by the time Bilbo is through.

✧ Step three: strategically moving your bedrolls to be right next to each other. What? It works! That night his target ends up rolling against you in his sleep and you lean up against him.

✧ When you wake up the following morning, shock overtakes you, then shy smiles and a private conversation that has Bilbo smirking to the rest of the company triumphantly.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

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stinkybirdz · 1 year

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friends are doing a blender learning club and were making swords dab dab feeling very spiders georg because i already have 3d modeling experience and concept art while everyone else is basically starting from scratch ive got this already. no one else has even finished designing theirs also blenders weird the join vertice button is m instead of j j is so easy to remember. it means j(oin). what does the m stand for. m(ake these two things connect)? anyway

#stinkywurdz #wippy #spiders georg in that everyones a novice and im the exception not the rule

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tiraviarp · 2 years

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To Embody and Preserve

(A clean version of this story can be found here.)

“…Ah, he iš finally awakening.”

R’thipra felt like a drop in a bucket of water. Ephemeral, a single unit among the mass, barely aware of its own existence.

It was a familiar sensation. Waking up from having passed out, eerily similar to when he would awaken stained in blood and surrounded by cross-sections of what were once people. Feeling the scratch and itch of something in the back of his mind.

The only difference was that, when the Inner Beast took ahold of him, he was usually alone. Alone in the Shroud, with simultaneously more and less time to grab ahold of that droplet of consciousness and climb the ladder to true awakeness.

But now, it felt as though there was even less of himself than usual. Why?

He could hear the voice of someone speaking beneath the water, voice choppy and odd.

Was he in the care of someone?

Who?

The more he strained to awaken, the more sensation he felt. A blanket covering his body, another blanket with gritty sand below him, the musty smell of old boxes around him…

And the all-too-familiar feeling of his lifeblood, his aether, being wrenched from his very being. His dim consciousness was awake enough to recognize the danger, but not awake enough to do little more than whimper and tense up.

“R…R’pahfu…”

“I am šorry. Juš† a momen†.”

He heard the sounds of footsteps displacing sand retreating. In tandem, the tearing, pulling sensation melted away, and he could breathe easier.

R’thipra was ready to open his eyes, but he knew one more thing must be done.

“…Glasses?”

“†here iš none here, R’†hiþra. You did no† own any when I found you, and I do no† know if you ©ould have dreššed in †hem…©onšidering your š†a†e.”

Ah. So he hadn’t been rid of his predicament after all. It would help explain why he felt especially odd.

R’thipra slowly opened his eyes. He was in a red tent of some sort. The rugs and blankets on the ground did little to ward off the sand scratching at his clothes, but at least it was cool. R’pahfu sat among the blankets in the opposite side of the tent, watching him with a little smile.

He didn’t need to ask where he was. Everything bad happened to him in Thanalan, of course.

Because maybe, just maybe, breaking his glamour would rid him of this curse?

“I was helping someone…being attacked. It seems they left me for dead.”

R’pahfu smiled a bit more. “Your ©oin iš š†ill wi†h you. I know †heše þeoþle, †he oneš near †he beeš. You are for†una†e †hey lef† i† on your þeršon.”

His tone was so light, R’thipra couldn’t tell if his lie was bought or called out. But before he could respond, the Warden’s Word spoke once more.

“Wha† haš haþþened †o you, R’†hiþra?”

What indeed. He could almost laugh at how his accident was simultaneously a boon and unfortunate. Cosplay was meant to have you embody a character.

He had gone a step further, apparently.

“…What do I look like, first of all…?”

“I have been able †o ©leanše †he helme† on your fa©e. †he laš† †ime we me†, you had þurþle hair and þurþle brandš under your eyeš. Now, you have brown hair and red brandš.”

“Brown…and red?” Yet another thing he didn’t dictate when making this glamour.

Wait. Was it pulling from…?

“Are you sure it’s red? Not…pink?”

“T-Then, it’s okay-“

R’thipra held back a whine that was building in his throat. He could feel himself tensing up all over again. “Is it necessary…?”

The look that the Word gave him was as apologetic as it was sweet. “I† iš how I ©leanšed †he helme†, R’†hiþra. Would you like me †o þu† you †o šleeþ aš I work? I know I am…un©omfor†able, ešþe©ially †o šomeone of fire aš you.”

No. No, no, no. The mere idea of the forced helplessness sent a shiver down his spine.

R’pahfu must’ve read his thoughts on his face. “…Šome find †ha† diš†ra©†ion helþš. I ©an šþeak of your ©ondi†ion while I work, if you þrefer.”

Was this the only option he’d be allowed? He knew that the other only had the intention to help, but…

“A…Alright. Just…go as fast as you can, okay?” The memories of after his surgery were foggy and faint at best, but he did remember how careful R’pahfu was with Rhylsoemr.

There would be no better medic to help him. Such was who he was.

R’pahfu dipped his head, once again giving him a smile. “†hank you. You are brea†hing qui†e hard, †hough. Þleaše, fo©uš on youršelf aš I ga†her my šuþþlieš.”

His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest as well. R’thipra forced himself to breathe in, out. In, out.

“†o begin…” He couldn’t see much of the Word moving around, lying down as he was, but he heard the soft clinking and clacking of gemstones being gathered. “Do you know †he quali†y of your baše energy?”

“It’s…earth, right? But you’ve…mentioned fire before.”

“Mhm. I† iš fain†, bu† i† iš †here. Þeoþle are rarely exa©†ly one elemen†al alignmen†, šo i† iš no† ©auše for ©on©ern. Šu©h iš †he rešul† of ex©hanging your energy wi†h †he world.”

Was it, though? He felt the echo of the itch in the back of his mind.

“Your energy iš very šimilar †o †ha† of Rhylšoemr,” he continued. “†he differen©e iš †ha†, while hiš’ iš ©lear, yourš iš dulled. He iš þrešen†, you are šea†ed behind a window.”

R’thipra squinted. “What…does that mean?”

R’thipra froze, feeling the blood drain from his face. Shit.

R’pahfu came into view, arms full of crystals of various sizes and colors, then stopped to look at him. “Iš šome†hing wrong, R’†hiþra?”

R’thipra swallowed thickly. “Can…other people see that I’m glamoured?”

The Word shook his head. “I þoššešš šenši†ivi†y †ha† moš† o†herš do no†. If †hey do no† know †o šear©h for i†, †hey may no† know.”

Was there anyone with similar sensitivity that he knew? He racked his brain.

“…I† iš imþor†an† †o you, †hen?”

R’thipra mutely nodded.

“†hen I will main†ain i† aš I un†angle wha† iš affe©†ing you,” R’pahfu replied with an easy-going smile. “And I will no† šþeak i† †o anyone. †he þriva©y of my þa†ien†š iš of u†moš† imþor†an©e.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. That was uncomfortably close to becoming something worse. “…Thank you.”

In, out. In, out. He slowly nodded, trying to force himself to relax. “…Yeah.”

R’pahfu took a step closer, then another. With each step, he could feel the Word’s aether tug at his own, attempting to feed the vortex within his pallid body.

In, out. In, out.

“I had no ©on©ernš wi†h you when we firš† me†.” R’pahfu stood over him now, handling a small translucent green gemstone carefully. He gently set it atop R’thipra’s chest. “Now, i† iš…odd. You are blindingly brigh†.”

“…Bright?”

“Brigh†,” he nodded. As he set a red gemstone down above his head, the Word closed his eyes. “When I firš† šee you, I šee ear†h and fire…bu† †he longer I look, †he more fa©e†š glow, brigh†er and brigh†er, un†il…”

His teeth grit together then, and he opened his eyes, cringing as if from a migraine. “I ©an no longer bear †o look. Like ligh† refle©†ing off þolišhed mirror šurfa©eš. You aþþear aš a whi†e šun, an in†angible ligh† šhell mixed wi†h šedimen†. ©old ligh† wi†h warm ligh† mixed †hroughou†. †wo for©eš no† mean† †o be †oge†her, for©ed anyway.”

It was impossible to tell how much of the dread spreading thick through his veins was because of R’pahfu himself, and how much was because of that description. “Wh…What does that even mean? What does that mean for me? You’re talking like my aether is…corrupted.”

“I† iš, in defini†ion. I† iš no† na†ural þhenomenon.”

This shouldn’t have happened. His method of glamouring was meant to be safe, tailored specifically to his magical capabilities. How could his low capacity for spellwork and glamour lead to corruption? Was it his fault, or was it the tools he was using?

What had gone so, so wrong?

In, out. In, out.

“I† iš for†una†e †ha† my †ime in Eorzea haš le† me exþerien©e ©orruþ†ion in o†herš. Your ©orruþ†ion…i† iš no† unfixable.”

Wait. “It…it isn’t? How do you…?”

R’pahfu had been standing still for quite some time, looking ahead at the tent wall. For a moment, the only sounds that came from him were the gentle clicks of the rocks in his hands rubbing together.

“Will you †ell me how †hiš š†ar†ed, R’†hiþra?”

Of course. It was only natural to start from the beginning in a medical situation. But there was so much to say, so much background information and technicalities that needed to be explained. So long ago, Ezeane had explained it all to him over the course of sennights, due to the intricacies and his inexperience. How was he to explain it thoroughly enough to be of help?

It was all R’thipra could do to try.

“…My glamour works different than usual glamour,” he began with a slow sigh. “My teacher said that I had trouble sensing aether and spells, and for me to try to cast my own magic without being able to feel it would be…hard. Instead of teaching me normal glamour, she gave me a modified glamour dresser that would handle all the spellwork for me. I just had to direct it.

“I…don’t really want to get into why I glamour.” It was hard, suddenly, to look R’pahfu in the eyes. The care and attention coming from him weighed heavy, almost sour. “But my teacher described it as…similar to transformation magic. The glamour dresser, under my instructions, modifies a piece of my aether and molds it into what I want. Once the ‘mold’ is done, more layers of glamour are laid on top of it, until I get my desired look. Most of the time, the layers are related to clothing – I just need to reduce the clothing into glamour prisms, then layer their images on top of the ‘mold’. When my glamour is finished, all I have to do is extract my aether from the glamour plate I bound it to. My aether returns to me modified, and it sort of ‘spreads’ the instructions I made for it all over my body.

“But, um…no matter how many layers of glamour I add, it’s all supported by that ‘mold’ of my own aether. When I apply my glamour and the instructions ‘spread’ over me, all of my personal aether is its foundation, not just that original piece of my aether. It makes it…very fragile. Anything that affects the ‘mold’ affects the rest of the glamour, and if the ‘mold’ – my body - is damaged, it…can’t support the layers on top of it. So, it all crumbles, and I can’t put it back on until I’m not hurt anymore.

“Does…any of that make sense?”

R’pahfu was quiet, wordlessly placing a purpleish-yellow stone on R’thipra’s neck. Though small, it was easy to feel the chill permeating it.

“It makes it so I don’t have to keep creating infinite glamour plates. I have two copies of plates with the ‘mold’, and to make a new outfit or look, I don’t have to erase them. I just add layers on top of them to customize them, rather than changing them entirely. It’s just simpler that way.”

A reddish stone was set on his shoulder. “You have been doing †hiš for a long †ime, †hen. †hiš iš †he firš† ©orruþ†ion you’ve had?”

He knew exactly how long he’d been doing this, down to the number of days, in fact. But he dared not tell him that.

In, out. In, out.

“…Yes. This is the first time I attempted to modify the ‘mold’, and…I guess I messed up. I…should’ve started from scratch and made a new one, I know that. I just didn’t have the time to.”

“’†ime’?”

“Mhm. It was a last-minute decision, spur of the moment…If I knew I’d be risking corruption just to make some silly event, I wouldn’t have even considered it.”

R’pahfu chuckled lightly, placing a yellowish-green stone on his other shoulder. “If you were †o rea©h aš far aš modifying †he baše of your glamour, would i† really be a ‘šilly even†’?”

R’thipra grunted, turning his head away. He hoped desperately that the other didn’t see the warmth he felt on his cheeks.

“Won’† you †ell me wha† i† waš?”

“It…doesn’t really matter. All you need to know is that I was stupid and modified the ‘mold’ because of it,” he grunted.

“†ha† iš †rue. Bu† I would š†ill like †o hear.”

R’thipra cracked an eye open to stare at him. The Word was still smiling his warm, kind smile, though there was a hint of levity in it as well.

“I don’t even know if you’d understand it. You haven’t been in Eorzea for long, right? This was all new to me, and I’ve been here all my life.”

“Your Fa†her haš †old me you were a hermi† for moš† of your life, you know.” There was a twinkle in the older man’s eye, the smile slipping into a grin. “Our underš†anding šhould be þarallel †hen, yeš?”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. The embarrassment was stronger than the tingling feeling of faux-claws phasing through his forehead. Stupid stuck-in-place glamour. “Why did he have to say it like that?”

“Oh, he did no†. †ha† waš my addi†ion. Forgivenešš.”

R’thipra spread his fingers just enough to glare up at R’pahfu through them. The other man simply laughed. “I am š†ill wai†ing †o hear wha† i† waš!”

He grumbled. He wasn’t getting out of this, was he? “…Fine. But you’d better not laugh, alright?”

R’pahfu huffed, reaching up to unwrap the long necklace chain from around his neck. It and its three stone pendants were soon placed above R’thipra’s head. “I have heard and šeen many †hingš in my šhor† †ime here in Eorzea, R’†hiþra. Šome wonderful, šome š†range, and šome I ©ould no† grab. I will no† laugh, bu† þleaše know you do no† have †o worry in †he firš† þla©e.”

R’thipra heaved a long sigh, letting his eyes close. “…I want you to imagine a large building. Loud and high-energy music is blaring from every corner in a language you half-understand at the best of times, and there’s people packed in everywhere. They’re all shouting over said music to buy yaoi and other odd things you normally wouldn’t be caught dead reading in public.”

“Yaoi?”

No, no, no. He was not going to go into that. He wasn’t going to explain to his older cousin what yaoi was. “N-nevermind that. The important thing is, it’s a…chaotic environment I could hardly understand. It was…similar to a party, but everyone in all of Eorzea was invited to dress up in strange outfits. It was…very weird.”

“It was weird,” R’thipra mumbled. “Maybe it’s because I’m not ‘into’ the things they were celebrating. I went mostly to support my friends who were working the event.”

“It wasn’t strictly required, but…it was a cultural thing.” He hesitated. “…I made one at the last moment, using prisms I’d already been collecting. My outfit was turning out well, and I could’ve just left it at that and have avoided all of…this.”

The Word hummed something under his breath. “In †he language you were ušing before…you made a layer over your glamour šafely. †ha† iš wha† you have †riumþhed in doing for šo long. Bu†, you šaid you had al†ered †he ‘mold’ aš well.”

R’thipra swallowed. “I…did, yes. I thought it would make the costume better, and wanted to confuse my friends. As part of a joke, of course. Nothing more.”

“Wha† did you al†er abou† i†, †hen?”

In, out. In, out.

“I, um…removed my tail.”

“No, no! Twelve above, no.” R’thipra nearly bolted up from the blanket as a horrified expression dawned on the man. “I-I’d never hurt myself like that. I’m still perfectly intact, I swear.”

“B-Bu†…you šaid you removed your †ail. Wha†-”

“I removed the tail from my glamour,” he spoke quickly. “It was a part of the ‘mold’. What I add or remove from the ‘mold’ doesn’t reflect on my actu- well, um…’unglamoured’ body. Only the ‘mold’ of the glamour that got stuck on me has no tail. It’s just a…”

Well, no. He can’t just say ‘it’s just an illusion’ now that he’s explained how his glamour works. Saying that would only lead to more worried questions.

R’pahfu took his quiet as an opportunity to speak. “…Bu† why would you have your †ail aš a þar† of †he ‘mold’? You have never al†ered i† before. †here iš no need †o have i† †here.”

That was precisely the question he didn’t want to answer. Quick, R’thipra, think of a lie.

“It’s…Well, I’ve never modified the ‘mold’ before this, but I have modified a layer that sits on top of it. With the layer, I can, um…easily change my hair and fur color for a little while, instead of having to dye it and wait for it to fade ou…”

R’thipra fell silent.

Even if he meant it as a way to avoid telling R’pahfu the complete truth, it wasn’t a complete lie. A simple hair color change automatically applied the color to his tail with how he programmed that part of the glamour.

But, he was sure he modified the ‘mold’ correctly. He built it from the ground up – he knew how to add and remove features properly. Right?

Right…?

“…R’pahfu. Are you able to look at where my tail would be?”

The Word lifted his head. Had he been thinking the same thing? “Roll over and I will, yeš.”

As pallid fingers plucked the stones resting on his shoulders and neck, he rolled over onto his stomach. As he turned his head to watch the other man, he caught him right as he closed his eyes.

He was quiet for a long, long time, even as his brow furrowed and his hands clenched around the stones. He watched for several ticks longer than he had before, past the point of headache and the start of shaking. Only when he exhaled a loud hiss did he open his eyes, a free hand coming up to massage his forehead.

R’thipra reached for the waterflask on his hip, offering it over to him. R’pahfu snatched it out of his hands and greedily sucked it dry.

“Hey, um…are you alright?”

Slowly, R’pahfu lowered his hand. “I…believe I may be underš†anding wha† iš going on. You šaid you uše ‘þrišmš’ and ‘þla†eš’, yeš? Do you have †hem?”

With a nod, R’thipra sat up, digging into the pockets hidden by the corrupted glamour. It only took him a moment to unhook the two plates from their belt chain and set them on the least sandy portion of the blanket, along with an unused prism. “Here. The one on the left is the one that caused all of…this.”

Gently, the Word picked up the prism and the corrupted plate, turning them over in his hands. Once with eyes open, then again with eyes closed. He hummed low. “…Yeš. †heše are ©onfirma†ion.”

“Confirmation of…?”

R’pahfu carefully set the objects down, then reached for the stones he’d picked out earlier. “†urn over and I will †ell you. I† iš imþor†an† †o ge† š†ar†ed fixing you, yeš? I† iš no† a qui©k anšwer.”

R’thipra furrowed his brow, but complied.

Once more, the Word began placing the stones in their original places, the cold seeping through his skin and the material of his clothes. “Where †he †ail waš iš a…drain, of šor†š. Hungry, emþ†y, wan†ing †o be ©omþle†e. I† iš †he only þla©e where your energy behaveš †ha† way, oþen like a wound. †he škin haš been †orn off and i† wan†š †o heal.”

So, he hadn’t removed the tail properly, it seemed.

In, out. In, out.

“But…I feel fine, for the most part. If I was leaking aether, I’d feel like something was horribly wrong, right? Ever since this happened, I’ve sometimes felt a bit…tingly, but that’s it.”

He tried not to think about how odd it’d felt to wake up in R’pahfu’s care. Clinging to the ladder rungs, trying to reach consciousness, feeling just that little bit less of himself.

“You are no† leaking, no,” R’pahfu shook his head. He gave a small, wry smile. “Elše I would be be©oming like you. †ha† iš my ©ondi†ion.”

“Then…it’s feeding off something.”

“You šaid †ha† you þla©ed a þar† of youršelf in †he þla†e when ©rea†ing i†, yeš?” Even if he couldn’t turn his head, R’thipra heard the light tap of the Word’s fingernail on the glamour plate. “Your šelf re©ognizeš your šelf aš šafe. †herefore, i† †ried †o reþair i†šelf ušing wha† you š†ored in †here, bu† i† †ook every†hing.”

He stepped away for a moment, returning with an unlit candle.

“W-Wait, I…don’t do well with fire magic.”

“You don’†? You aþþear like you would have a škill for i†.”

R’thipra wanted to shake his head, but dared not risk dislodging the stone on his forehead. His neck twitched regardless. “Just…don’t. Please.”

R’pahfu’s head tilted slightly, watching him for a moment through closed eyes. Eventually, however, he nodded. “†hen I will no†. You are good wi†h fire from flin†, hoþefully?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Ignored the phantom sensation of claws resting against his jugular. “…Yeah. Flint is fine.”

“†hen, a momen†.”

The unlit candle returned to wherever he’d gotten it from. To his left, R’thipra heard the sound of metal striking on metal. Soon, the Word returned with a lit lantern, flames swaying comfortably in glass.

“†heše þrišmš and þla†eš you uše look like glašš, magi©ked †o š†ore šmall amoun†š of energy,” R’pahfu began. One hand held the lantern above R’thipra’s chest, and the other reached for the prism. “†he energy i† š†oreš iš ei†her your own, for †he þla†e, or †ha† of ©lo†heš, jewelry, and ©oloring, for †he þrišm, yeš?”

Though the gentle flame in the lantern appeared harmless, he didn’t take his eyes off of it. “Yes?”

Then, suddenly, his view of the flame fractaled as the prism blocked his line of sight. Gentle light became harsh and bright, bouncing off the polished planes of glass. R’thipra flinched back with a grimace.

R’pahfu’s Seeker pupils had shrunk dramatically as he stared through the prism, thin black lines against blue-green. “†he wound you made †ook every†hing. †he šelf you þla©ed in †he þla†e, na†urally drawn ba©k †o i†šelf, šþread †he ‘mold’ over you. †he wound wan†ed more, šo i† a†e †he þrišmš whole, ©on†en†š and all. †he ©on†en†š be©ame a þar† of †he ‘mold’, dreššing you in forever armor and drowning your energy in ©old ligh†. If you did no† remove †he abili†y of †he hair ©olor †o þain† your †ail, i† would have been ea†en aš well, †hough i†š effe©†š on †he ‘mold’, I ©anno† šay. No o†her þar† †han your hair iš brown.”

There was another part of him that was brown, though.

In, out. In, out.

“…Did you ever say if the markings under my eyes were red or pink, R’pahfu?”

“†hey are more red, bu† †here iš þink, †oo.”

Fuck.

R’thipra took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The magnified, fractaled flame still burned against the backs of his eyelids. “…So…what do I do, then? How do I…’unfuse’ myself?”

“†he anšwer iš šimþle, †he †e©hnique iš no†.” Suddenly, the harsh light in front of his face disappeared, replaced by gentle warmth again. Then, it was all dark, and he heard the soft ‘clink!’ of the lantern being set on the ground to his left. “We muš† un†angle †he ©orruþ† ae†her from your šelf, †hen šeal †he wound.”

R’thipra peeled his eyes open. The tent was too dark for his liking, too dark to see R’pahfu properly. Hopefully his pupils would adjust soon. “…The difficulty comes from actually separating the aether, I’m guessing.”

“And, main†aining †he glamour you þla©ed on before.” Though he couldn’t see the whole thing, he could see the corners of the other man’s smile.

He’d remembered that? Something pulled at his heart, rendering him silent.

R’pahfu seemed to not notice, reaching for the other glamour plate. “†hiš one iš in†a©†, yeš? I will iden†ify †he edgeš of your original glamour †hrough †hiš. Any energy †ha† iš no† ear†h and fire or in †hiš šhaþe, I will ©leanše from you. I† will †ake †ime, þa†ien©e…”

The Word had trailed off, but R’thipra knew what he meant to say. He was too kind.

In, out. In, out.

“If…if for some reason, you need to strip all of the glamour…you can.”

R’thipra leveled a hard stare at him. “It’s a health concern. It’s…more important that I get uncorrupted, right?”

The Word glanced away, fingers knotting into the lapel of his robes.

In, out. In, out.

“R’pahfu, please. I…give you permission to do whatever you need.”

Silence.

It lasted worringly long, long enough for him to ready another argument. But then, R’pahfu sighed long, turning back to him. “…Alrigh†. I will do my beš† no† †o do i†, bu†…†hank you.”

Even as his heart thundered in his chest, R’thipra smiled warm and kind to him. “I should be the one thanking you for this.”

Once again, the man’s head ducked away, this time trying to hide a chuckle. “I† iš my job, R’†hiþra. You are family, bešideš!”

R’thipra prayed to Azeyma that stayed the case, if push came to shove.

Then, he paused as he withdrew a gleaming blue crystal from his robes. Even with the dulled senses he apparently had, R’thipra could feel energy spike in the air from it. It was cool, cleansing, refreshing, soothing.

Powerful, yet not something to fear.

The twinkle in R’pahfu’s eye, however, was something to be feared. “If you hoþe †o †hank me, †ell me wha† yaoi iš.”

R’thipra grimaced. “Not a chance.”

“You will agree even†ually!”

Even as a low grumble built in his throat, as the Word set the crystal beside his head, he could feel the tension in his face fade. The stones placed across his upper body basked in the energy, beginning to spread it down the rest of his body.

“…We’ll talk about repayment after this is all done.”

#r'thipra tia #r'pahfu tia #story #FFXIV #ffxiv rp

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