#The Secret Village of the Elves

[ride-a-dromedary]

Just thinking about the implications of this, but Halsin's way of indicating that his family has long passed is: "save for [him], [his] line perished a long time ago".

Aside from it being a decidedly more old fashioned and more eloquent way of indicating what happened (as is shown in shades in Halsin's speaking patterns, which is likely trying to illustrate his age as well as push the "wise mentor" angle), by stating that his line has ended with him, practically, it means both sets of grandparents are gone, both parents are gone, and either Halsin is an only child (unlikely considering Wood Elves, but possible), or any and all of his siblings are gone, too. And if you stretch what you consider part of a line, rather than just keeping direct, that could extend to aunts and uncles and cousins as well (though it's hard to say concretely what Halsin includes in a familial line).

So it leaves me to wonder what happened to reduce an entire elven line to one elf, when Halsin himself is only just approaching middle-age and he pointedly says it happened a long time ago, so it wasn't a recent event, and the lot of them likely didn't die from old age/natural causes. Was his entire village wiped out at one point? Disease or a raid or orcs or a wildfire or what?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for killing my character and quitting a D&D game I was part of?

Apologies in advance but this is going to be rather long, I'll put a TL;DR at the bottom.

So this all started about eleven months ago when I (14, she/they/he) started getting into D&D, and joined a D&D group thanks to a friend of mine we'll call T (14, he/they). The group was made up of about five people total, but the main people in this situation are me, T, and the DM who we'll call N (15, he/him).

Now when I was making my character, T was helping me out by letting me describe what sort of character I wanted and suggesting different races, classes etc to make it work how I wanted, and what we ended up with was a Pact of the Undead warlock. The backstory of my character was that their older brother died defending them from an invasion of the village they lived in.

My character managed to make contact with their spirit in the afterlife and formed a "pact" with them, gaining power in exchange for letting him "look after them" (i.e. keep watch over them from the afterlife, protect them from harm, all that sorta thing). T told me to run the final concept past N but that they were sure it'd be allowed and that the pact idea was really sweet.

So I told N about my character and the backstory idea like T suggested and N seemed really on board with the whole thing, though he wanted to make a few slight changes to things in secret that would come up during the campaign, to make things more exciting I guess.

I told him I was alright with that, as long as nothing about who the pact was with and what it was for changed too much. He assured me that it wouldn't and that he'd get back to me on what changes he was planning, but he never did, and at the time I just put that down to him being busy.

The campaign starts, and for the first few months things are going pretty good. I do notice that a lot of NPCs, in fact nearly every non-child NPC, seems to be flirting(?) with my character, but I don't think too much of it at first, she is a young elven woman with blonde hair and silver eyes and everyone in the group has said that she's very pretty.

It isn't until one of the others who is also playing an elven character points out that they've been on the receiving end of essentially racism towards elves from NPCs who have simultaneously been showering my character with compliments that I start realizing how frequent and honestly rather obsessive it is, and as mentioned, just how many of the NPCs are doing it.

Then we get to T's character arc, exploring his character's backstory and helping them with things that come up. However, there are certain characters that are introduced that, out of character, T reacts rather negatively to, and when I ask him outside of session what's going on he confides in me that N is changing elements of his backstory that he'd told him he didn't want changing. As an example, T wrote that their character's mother was never part of their character's life growing up.

One of the characters we met was the character's mother, who was instead apparently a very prominent part of their life and cared greatly about them "not that they ever noticed". He also changed the character of T's father from "kind and caring man who did his best to raise his child alone and teach them how to defend themselves" to "stubborn, angry and neglectful father that is constantly disappointed in his son", which completely blindsided and upset T.

T also said that he'd tried talking to N about this but that the response had ended up being, to put it bluntly, "I'm the DM so I have the final say in things". This started to worry me, especially when I realized that N had never gotten back to me with his "proposed changes" to my backstory.

So I sent him a message, but because I didn't want to drag T into my own business with N I decided to say something along the lines of "hey, did you ever figure out what you wanted to change about my backstory?". He messaged back and said that he'd figured it out, but that things with school were so busy that he hadn't had time to sit down and properly write it all out to send to me yet, but assured me that he would by the time T's arc was over.

Several more months passed with no further word from N about my character's backstory, and as T's arc wraps up there's this idea that starts getting brought up, of how demons often exploit the grief of mortals to latch onto them and claim their souls by impersonating the dead person.

The others in the group all latch onto this and start speculating about how exactly the demons use impersonation to claim souls, except for T who gives me this rather worried look from across the table, and it suddenly hits me that this is probably meant to be the opening of my character arc.

I pull N aside after the game is over for the night and ask him directly if this is the opening to my character arc, and he says that it is, but not to worry because the demon thing is, to quote, "just being brought up to get the others interested". I remind him about what I told him about not wanting anything to change about who the pact was with and what it was for, and ask him again what changes he's made to my backstory.

He promises he'll have a full list to me by the start of next session, that we'll have time to sit down together and discuss it all even, and that he won't do anything I don't want him to do. Despite my concerns and the fact that he has already said several times he'll send me this list without doing it, I decide, like a fool, to trust him, even though in hindsight I had absolutely no reason to by this point.

The next session rolls around, and of course there's no list, instead a lot of NPCs who start voicing concern whenever my character brings up the fact she's a warlock, or her dead brother, especially if the pair come up in quick succession. One of the other characters figures out what's going on and asks if they can basically cast some sort of spell to determine if a demon's got control of my soul, which N agrees to, and the spell determines that yes, that's exactly what's going on.

I immediately confront N, mid-session, and tell him outright that this isn't fair, that I told him I didn't want him to change this part of my backstory, and I wanted him to change it back immediately or I wasn't going to play anymore. He started on this long-winded response basically summarizing as "I'm the DM, I can do what I want".

This is the part where I may be the asshole, because well, I saw red in that moment, and decided I not only wanted to follow through on my threat of quitting, but also do something to ensure that my point was driven home.

I fired off a quick message to T on my phone warning him what I was about to do, and while the others were talking about what to do to help me I loudly announced that my character was stabbing herself through the heart, which N had previously ruled would be an instant method of death if carried out.

Silence falls over the group. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even hit, which I argue (with T backing me up) that if my character is willing to get hurt then it's automatically a hit. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even pierce my heart. Okay, fine, I roll, and as luck would have it I roll a Nat 20. N attempts to send me just to death saves, but I remind him (again, with T backing me up) that he'd ruled that this was an instant death.

So then he tries to have an NPC cleric show up and revive my character, but T brings up that the soul has to be willing to return to life for that to work, and I immediately say that my character wouldn't even be able to consent to that if her soul was held by a demon, nor would she even be willing if she could. Then I tell N directly that he can consider this my official resignation from the group and walk out, and T follows along behind me after a few minutes.

Ever since then N's been blowing up my phone, fluctuating between begging for me to rejoin the group and promising that he'll do things differently this time, and calling me a selfish bastard for "ruining the fun". T still goes to sessions occasionally, though I think now it's just to spectate, and he's said that maybe things went a little far with the character death in hindsight. And honestly, I'm not exactly proud of how I acted now either.

TL;DR -- I joined a D&D campaign where the DM has made unwanted changes to my character's backstory, despite my attempts to communicate with him, so I retaliated by killing my character mid-session and refusing to let him revive her before quitting. AITA?

[sugarzandsweetz]

Lost Love (Nuada x OC)

Long before the battle of the golden army, Nuada loved a human. But they were taken away from him, causing his hatred for humanity to grow stronger

______________________________________________

Many Many Years Ago

A smile rests upon the woman's face as she hums to herself. Feeling the soft breeze of spring press against her face has never felt so calming. In her hands, she busies herself with making a crown out of the flowers that surround her.

Her nimble fingers work expertly in crafting the crown. Looping the stems and locking them together to hold the flowers close. Thorns prick at her fingers but she doesn't mind. Some of the most beautiful things can be made through pain.

Soon, her humming becomes singing.

"A man came across this old tower one day,

It was straight like from a book he once read,

He lifted his head up and saw this young lady and here is what the lady said,"

Lifting her head up, the woman picks up her voice and sings louder.

"Moi Je M'appelle Mademoiselle Noir, et comme vous pouvez le voir, je ne souris, ni ris, ni vis.

Et c'est tout ce qu'elle a dit, di di di,"

As she works and sings, she hears the crunch of approaching footsteps. They are soft, almost unable to be distinguished. But she can hear them.

The smile grows wider on the woman's face; she doesn't turn around. Because she knew who it was. She ceases her singing and waits quietly as she continues her threading.

The footsteps grow louder and louder until they stop right behind her.

"What are you doing, Isabella?" asked the soft voice of her lover.

"Waiting for you, your highness." Isabella said. "I busied myself with making a flower crown."

A soft chuckle escapes her lover's mouth as they sit themself down beside Isabella. He rests his hand on Isabella's shoulder, giving it a rub.

"It looks beautiful, just like you."

Isabella's face becomes flushed at his compliment. She turns away from her work to look at her lover.

A handsome elf sits beside her. Long platinum blond hair with black tips, porcelain white skin, black lips, and beautiful golden eyes. He is dressed in elegant robes with armor clasped over them. On his hips rested two swords strapped to his waist.

A true beauty for elven people but terrifying for humans. To Isabella, he is beautiful.

"You flatter me, good sir." she said with a giggle.

"Enough pleasantries, Belle. You don't need to be so formal with me, I've told you again and again." he said amused.

"I know, Nuada. I just feel like I must be formal as you are royalty and I am a mere human commoner." Isabella said with a sad frown.

Nuada doesn't allow her to be sad as he kisses Isabella's forehead. His lips are cool against her warm skin. The touch of his lips send butterflies to flutter in the woman's stomach. Any touch from Nuada makes her so giddy.

"I love you for who you are, Isabella. Whether royalty or commoner, I love you." Nuada assured her. Then he pulls Isabella into a deep, tender kiss.

The coupling of the elven prince and human is a well-kept secret. Only Nuada's twin sister, who holds a soul bond with her brother, knows about Isabella. In fact, Nuala is fond of Isabella and is happy for her brother.

When Nuada and Isabella first met, it was by accident.

It was the start of the war between the elves and humans. The border between the two realms were watched closely so that no one crossed. The lands were becoming thick with blood and bodies.

Isabella lives in a small cottage close to the border. She made a living of selling food and jewelry in the village markets. Unlike most humans, Isabella wasn't afraid of the fae people. In fact, she often helps pixies, trolls, and many other of the fae people.

About a year ago, Isabella took a stroll through the thick forest that was east of her home. She collected berries from bushes and material to use for her jewelry. Isabella kept to herself and made sure not to bother any creatures.

That is when she met Nuada.

Nuada is the general of the Bethmooran army and often does patrols along the border. If he ever comes across a human, he either kills them or makes sure they never come back. When he found Isabella collecting berries by a nearby pond, Nuada was transfixed by her beauty.

Isabella has long blonde hair that must be braided to keep it from touching the ground. Her eyes are bluer than the finest sapphires, skin as white as alabaster, and a smile that can dazzle the coldest of hearts.

Soon after Nuada spotted her, Isabella looks up from her pickings and spots Nuada. At first, she is surprised but soon smiles in greeting. It catches Nuada off guard as he is used to being feared by humans. And her smile almost made Nuada's heart stop beating.

Quickly, Nuada ignores his unfamiliar feelings and demands to know why Isabella is in elven territory. He expects her to grovel, to beg to spare her life. Instead, Isabella apologizes and explains that she is scavenging for food. She offers some berries as a peace offering but Nuada declines.

Nuada tells her to leave or she would face serious consequences.

Isabella doesn't complain and does as Nuada orders. Not before handing him a lily as a parting gift and an apology for intruding. Then she leaves.

After that day, it began a series of encounters between the two. Isabella would greet him, offer him food, and head off. She became an enigma to Nuada, intriguing him to pursue Isabella. Over time, the two became an odd pair of friends.

After a month, Nuada began to show affection for Isabella. He would shower Isabella in gifts such as jewels, the finest clothes, and trinkets he made. Isabella would only accept his trinkets as they were made by himself.

Isabella was surprised when Nuada asked permission to court her. She believed that he deserved better than her. The prince was next in line for the Bethmooran throne. A member of a royal family is better suited for Nuada.

Nuada refused to allow Isabella to believe this. He showers her in love and affection until Isabella didn't have to worry. It leads to the moment that they are in now. True love between star crossed lovers.

"How many times must I continue to assure you that I love you?" Nuada asked once they break away from their kiss.

"I'm sorry for being so insecure, Nuada. It's still hard to believe you possess such feelings for me." Isabella apologized.

Nuada pulls Isabella into a hug, pressing her head against his chest. Resting his chin on the top of her head, Nuada closes his eyes as he focuses on the woman in his arms. "I will love you to the end of time." he whispered softly.

His words warmed Isabella's heart as she listens to Nuada's heartbeat. It feels as if both their hearts were beating as one.

"I'll keep you to that." Isabella said with a soft laugh.

The two stay there in each other's arms, savoring this pleasant moment.

With the war between humans and elves growing hotter, it's been difficult for Nuada to have moments with Isabella. Commanding armies and working through strategy meetings took up most of his time. Only when it's night time or when Nuala fills in for him is when Nuada can escape. This morning is the first time in awhile since they've seen each other.

"Nuada," Isabella began suddenly.

"Yes, my love?" Nuada asked.

"I know this is a tough subject, but I want to know. Is there ever a possibility you'll end this war and make a truce?" Isabella asked hopefully. "I know your feelings for humans are conflicted but if you can love me, maybe you can put aside your hatred to bring a better world?"

Nuada tenses up. Isabella didn't have to look at his face to know what he is feeling.

"Unlike you, the rest of humanity has a hole in their heart that is full of greed. It can't be filled. The choices they make are killing my people." Nuada responded. "If we don't stop the humans from taking more of the elven land, killing my people; they will keep doing so."

"What if you find a peaceful solution to this? Make a truce with the humans? No one wants this bloodshed. If you can make a truce that both sides agree to, all of this can end." Isabella said.

Isabella understood that Nuada's hatred for humans runs deep in his bones. Her kind has killed and taken so much from him. It's shocking that he fell for Isabella.

"The humans will never uphold any truce."

"There are those who will. You just have to look."

Nuada glances down at his love and gives Isabella a warm smile. "I didn't have to look for you." he said.

The two smile and share another loving kiss. The kiss spreads warmth through their bodies.

"Will you consider it, at least? I don't want to live in a world where I might die the next day." Isabella said, fearfully. She takes Nuada's calloused hands and hold them tightly. "I wish to live in a world with you by my side." she said.

"Then be by my side." Nuada said suddenly.

"What?" Isabella asked, caught off guard.

"I want you to be by my side, forever and always." Nuada said, taking something out of his pocket and presenting it to Isabella.

A gasp escapes Isabella's lips when she discovers the item to be a ring. The band is made of pure silver. A sapphire diamond rests upon silver flower petals that curl around the diamond like a sleeping flower.

A truly beautiful sight that Isabella has never seen before.

"Isabella Rosemary, will you marry me?" Nuada asked with a hopeful smile on his face.

Isabella stares at him in shock but soon breaks out into a big smile. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Isabella repeated happily. Nuada smiles as he slips the ring upon Isabella's ring finger.

"With this ring, I promise to make you the happiest woman. I will love you to the end of time." Nuada promised. He kisses the ring as a sign of promise. "And I promise to bring peace to humans and the fae people." he added.

Happy tears are streaming down Isabella's face, making her eyes shine bright. "I love you." Isabella whispered.

"I love you too." Nuada whispered back.

Their sweet and tender moment ends abruptly when Isabella lets out a gasp. A look of shock is on her face as blood slips through her lips.

"Isabella . . .?" Nuada asked in worry.

Isabella's chest blooms red. The thick stench of blood fills the air.

Isabella falls forward; Nuada catches her. He looks over her shoulder and finds an arrow embedded in her back. It wasn't an elven arrow, that he recognized. It was an arrow designed by humans.

"No. No. No. No." Nuada repeated.

Nuada cradles Isabella in his arms. Fear is filling his entire body as he tries to keep Isabella awake. "Stay awake, Isabella. Please stay awake." Nuada begged, tears streaming down his face.

Blood trickles down Isabella's mouth as she chokes on her blood. Tears stream down her face as she mirrors the same fear that is on Nuada's face. Death is imminent.

"M-My love . . . " Isabella gurgled.

Slowly, she reaches up and places a bloody hand upon Nuada's cheek. Her skin is already growing cold.

"I will . . . love you forever . . . and always." Isabella whispered as she chokes on her blood.

"Isabella, just hang on a little longer. I'll get you help." Nuada promised.

"It's too late." Isabella said.

Isabella gives Nuada a bloody smile. "I'll wait for you, Nuada. Whether it is a day or the end of time, I will see you again." Isabella said, closing her eyes. Then she dies in the elf's arms.

Humans didn't turn to stone like Nuada's people. Isabella became limp in his arms and lays there as if she is sleeping. It's harder for Nuada as he hopes to see her wake up.

Tears stream down Nuada's face as it feels as if his heart shatters into millions of pieces. A bellowing cry tears out of his lips as Nuada holds Isabella to his chest. He buries his face into her hair, begging Isabella to wake up.

"This isn't supposed to happen." Nuada cried. "I was going to make you my wife. I was going to make you immortal so we can be together forever." he cried. He clutches the body of his fiancé and refuses to let go.

"Damn it. I missed him."

"Just shoot him again!"

Nuada ceases his crying when he hears new voices. His pain grows cold as it hardens into anger. He wipes the tears from his face as rage consumes him.

Carefully, Nuada lays Isabella down.

She is rested on top of the flowers. Her eyes are closed and looks as if she is sleeping. Isabella looks so beautiful resting on the flowers. If only she was napping.

Slowly, Nuada stands up. In his hand, he is holding the flower crown that Isabella made. It's stained in blood and is crushed but still intact. He refuses to let go of it.

The elf prince turns around and finds a group of human men. They aren't ordinary hunters. These men are soldiers. They were probably patrolling the border when they saw Nuada.

One of them was armed with a bow and arrow. That is the man who killed Nuada's love.

"You killed her." Nuada snarled.

"I was aiming for you, not her. A mere casualty in war." replied the human with a shrug.

His words enraged Nuada greatly. This man killed one of his own and doesn't even care.

"This proves that humans are horrible beings. You killed the only human that I truly cared for." Nuada snarled. "You don't deserve to live. You don't even deserve a merciless death."

The soldiers prepare their weapons. Swords are drawn and bows are notched back. The men believe they have the advantage as they are in a group.

Nuada draws out his swords and stands ready.

Wordlessly, Nuada lunges forward and attacks them. His blades slice through them all. Their throats were sliced open, giving them a slow, painful death. Blood gushes out in a spray as the humans collapse to the ground. The fear of dying is in their eyes. Surely, they regret killing Isabella now.

Usually, Nuada grants humans one mercy: a swift death. But he left these men to die by drowning in their blood. It's what they deserve.

Once they die from their injuries, Nuada turns back toward Isabella's prone form. His anger turns to despair.

"You were too pure for this world, Isabella. They didn't deserve you." Nuada whispered as he falls to his knees and hovers over Isabella. He places the bloody flower crown on her head. Resting his hands on her cheeks, Nuada leans in and gives Isabella a kiss on the lips.

"I will love you forever and always."

[otterloreart]

Stardew Valley fanart!

I'm not sure if there's a headcanon shared by the Stardew Valley community about the secret statues or if there's any additional canon information but I made my own headcanons up about them! More under cut.

??HMTGF?? headcanon:

HMTGF is obviously a robot made up by our resident child prodigy/engineer, Maru. Maru created HMTGF as a child and it was meant to be an imaginary friend who could assist on mechanical engineering projects. She used household materials.

In order to bring HMTGF to life, Maru attempted to use the souls of sea creatures. Don't worry, ultimately no sea creatures were harmed in the making of HMTGF, but suffice it to say: Penny read a book about exorcising the souls of creatures and animating objects using them. Demetrius had to explain to them that it wasn't appropriate to use animals in this manner (He tried to explain what ethics boards approval entails but Robin just made a blanket "no including live animals in your experiments" rule).

Anyways, you find HMTGF abandoned in the dumpter behind Joja. Perhaps the sea cucumber's soul is successfully transferred into HMTGF, but who knows. It doesn't seem to move.

??Pinkylemon??

Pinkylemon is a representation of a little brownie-like creature that lives in Gus's home. Like fantasy brownies and other elves, Pinky cleans up the Saloon in exchange for bowls of milk or other treats. One time Gus was out of milk so he gave it duck mayonnaise, which it loved even more.

The statue of Pinkylemon was made by Leah out of wood, after she found out about the creature. Stockings and shoes were sewn by Evelyn, after she found out that a brownie lived with Gus, so thats why it has little clothes on the statue. Elliot is the one who told Gus more about the brownies. All the villagers who know of Pinky are pleased that a creature has come to the center of town.

??Foroguemon??

In the cutscene where Vincent and Jas (and the farmer) are spooked by what they see in the sewers, many people assume that they're seeing Krobus. But what if... they're not seeing Krobus, they're seeing Foroguemon?

Foroguemon is a frog that mutated in the sewers. Vincent eventually begins trying to feed him and becomes less afraid of him. Vincent sculpted the Foroguemon statue to prove that he was real, but nobody believed him; if you offer the strange bun to Vincent he gives you the statue and feeds the strange bun to Foroguemon.

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 2 - A call to motion

Navigation | Series Masterlist | AO3

series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

second chapter synopsis: Curious about last night's events, Thranduil dedicates his dawn to understanding who exactly you are. Accumulating questions and very few answers, you allow yourself to remember the past. Aerin, uncertain of your future, tries to make sure that you won’t be around to attract more attention to yourself. She should’ve known better than that. [4K]

warnings: female!reader. lotr kinda of violence. pre-Smaug. warg. blood. trauma (subtle). fear of being lonely.

glossary: Lossëistar: Ice Mage┆Vendë: Maiden┆Tîrwen: Honest maiden┆Thalieth: Heroine┆Maenwë: Clever girl┆Alassëa rá; Alassë’ arin; Alassë’ aurë: Good morning

The frigid shore was not so different from the frozen river. More grainy, dirtier, but as static under your feets as the ice. Or maybe the earth was warm. Maybe the earth was gentle and caring. Maybe it was as it always was, and you were the one whose now frost. Maybe it finally happened: your lack of control, your lack of knowledge, turned your boon into a curse. 

But the mist surrounding the valley made your fear fade away.

As you walked into the shore, gravel crunching your feets, the freedom of being in the midst of danger without any fear was nothing compared to the cold. Looking down, you noticed that your numb feet were white. Your blood was not circulating.

And only when tremors overtook your winning smile the Elvenking managed to find the voice lost inside his throat. And his voice, tumultuous by a cacophonous mind, gave in to a king's first nature: a command. “Prepare a hot bath. Forthwith.” Thranduil’s words were not directed at anyone, but his steward hurried to the inn.

Thranduil took a step forward your shuddering shape, but no further. Because, when his foot touched the icy ground, the voices on his mind came to a consensus. Now he understands. What attracts Gandalf’s attention. What was so special that made him keep coming back to that exquisite inn. 

Thranduil understands. And now, with that knowledge, Thranduil chose to get closer to you. “Vendë”, Thranduil spoke softly. “You did not need to act. The river would not affect us. Why did you put yourself in danger?”

Still reeling from adrenaline, for a moment you forgot that the man in front of you was a king. He was just a man, a kind one, asking a question. “Because I would’ve felt bad if I did not.”

For the second time in minutes, you left the Elvenking speechless. Analyzing your eyes, searching for some hidden lie, he didn’t even notice the silence. All he did was to let the truth sink in.

But you noticed it, and it reminded you of who Thranduil was. Did you say something you should not? The village is made up of elves, Aerin and her son are half elves, you know how to act around them. So the silence must be caused by a royalty norm. You should have called him king, shouldn’t you? Or maybe he was waiting for a formality that you did not know should be performed.

Staring into his ocean blue eyes, you bowed. It was a stiff move, your muscles throbbed, but it was the best you could do. The only thing you know about acting around kings is to obey and be polite. The Elvenking isn’t ordering anything, so your mistake must be about the second option.

Blankets were thrown over your shoulders. Aerin rubbed the blankets against your body, helping to ward off the cold. “You are wetting the king’s feet. Say you are sorry.”

“I’m sorry”, you obeyed her without thinking twice. She may not be the kindest person in the world, but she’s good. And takes care of you. So when Aerin says you should be sorry, you believe her. You didn’t even look down to see if she was right.

Before Thranduil could say anything, Aerin guided you into the inn. “Poor thing. Let’s make sure you do not get a cold.”

Gildor approached. “I bet your grace didn’t imagine that your night would end that way.”

“No.” Thranduil was not sure about what surprised him more. Your bravery, or the reason behind it. “I did not”, he whispered to himself.

You felt Aerin’s hands trembling as she helped you into the tub. The water was so hot, smoky, exactly what you needed. You thought it was her nerves. Plunged into boiling water, you forgot about everything that wasn’t warmth and twin suns and the color yellow and fire.

Aerin let you finish your bath with some privacy after you promised her to not sleep on the tub. She walked into her room and took a sip of red wine, and after a minute of silence Aerin guided her guests to their chambers. Then Aerin woke you up, complaining that you could have drowned on the tub, and helped you stumble your way to your bed.

Even alone, with everyone else sleeping, she didn’t stop shaking.

Because she had only one task. Gandalf made sure she would understand it. Aerin had only one thing to do: make sure you would stay with her, in the village, away from problems. But she saw how the Elvenking looked at you. He looked at you like someone that had innumerable questions. And a king’s question always gets its answer.

Aerin had only one task to fulfill, and now she has a problem.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Shattering glass woke him up. Thranduil rose, and even in the dark of the room it did not take him more than a second to find his sword. Illuminated by moonlight, he stepped out his chamber and followed the treacherous sound. 

But all he found was you, on your knees, picking up broken glass in a messy kitchen. Overturned pans, open jars, a mixture of spices in the air. A supper was served earlier, but you looked like you wanted to have one just for yourself. You must be starving.

“Did I wake you up?” You murmured, tiredness almost palpable on your voice. But that wasn’t the only thing he could sense. Thranduil heard your hesitation. Your fear.  “It was an accident.”

Thranduil laid his sword on the table, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. He knelt in front of you, picking up the shards of glass from what was once a cup. He could feel the warmth of your breath. “Have you heard many stories about Woodland’s elves, vendë?”

“I had, your grace.” Vendë. That made you feel warm inside. Most people call you Lossëistar. You don’t think someone ever called you maiden before.

Thranduil knows the reason for your hesitation. He had a long time to build a reputation. “And what did you hear?”

Your smile faded. “That most of you descend from ancient tribes that never went to Faerie in the West. That your magic is strong. That your folk are more dangerous between the elves. And less wiser.”

“Do I look more dangerous and less wiser?” Thranduil asked, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

You felt tempted to agree. Thranduil probably is dangerous, but not in a way you should be worried about. You shook your head with a genuine smile. “I can’t even remember the last time someone called me by my name.”

That made Thranduil bite his tongue. Distrust is his second nature, but something tells him you're not a bad person. People could have been nicer to you. “Then stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong tonight.”

You rose, and thanked him because you didn’t know what else to do. Without paying attention to what you were doing, you took the shards from his hand and left them in a box with some garbage. 

Thranduil circled the table, the candles enlightening his golden hair. That’s something so alluring about elves' hair. They simply drew attention. Thranduil's hair seems to be so soft. You forced yourself to look away.

And that was your chance to shut up and not embarrass yourself in front of a king. But you didn’t. “Is it true that your kind live inside the threes?”

Thranduil slows down his pace. “It is.”

“So you can decrease in stature?”

Thranduil guffaw. You must be entirely wrong to get that reaction from a king. “Our trees are bigger than you think.”

“It must be a large forest.”

You sat back in front of your improvised supper and went back to eating. Until you dropped your cup, you’ve been eating for almost half an hour. You offered him food, Thranduil just shook his head and sat in front of you.

“How can I explain this to you?” He held his sword. Thranduil slid his fingers along the hem, looking for a way to make you see the correct image. “It’s like a bird house. But instead of birds, it is filled with elves. And instead of lean wood, it’s ancestral trees bigger than villages. And instead of a simple construction, it’s a king's palace.”

You swallowed the food. ”Termite is a problem? Or is the wood magic?”

“Three minutes of conversation and you were more creative than half my generals”, Thranduil wasn’t complaining. Not about you, at least. “It can be impolite, it probably is, but how many stomachs do you have?”

“It is, but I don’t care.” Your honesty attacked again. “When I do big things I can get exhausted. And hungry. So hungry.”

“Do you tend to do big things, vendë?” Thranduil looked out the window, seeing the huge frozen wave. To call it a big thing... kind of a euphemism. “It did not look like it was your first time.”

“That dam is a current problem.” You ate more before continuing. “I normally only do big things. It is easier.” Thranduil’s curious gaze made you talk more. “I know it seems stupid, but it is true. I couldn’t freeze a cup of water even if my life depended on it.”

Thranduil was intrigued. How can someone that does things like that face hardship on such an easier task? “Gandalf did not mentor you?”

“No, he’s just my friend. Wait. Do you know him?” You smiled, thinking about the old man. A yawn escaped your mouth. “He was there this morning.”

Thranduil arched his eyebrows. At the meeting, Gandalf said he had traveled far and wide. Why did he lie? Why would he need to lie about something like that? What piece of knowledge is missing to form the right outlook?

Thranduil wished he had a closer relationship with the inconvenient pilgrim. Perhaps he would understand the reason for such a small lie. But maybe you are the answer he desires. Maybe it’s you that can make him understand why the man respected throughout the continent decided to be unfaithful. “You work for lady Aerin?”

“I take care of the horses.” You pointed in the direction of the stable. Your eyes shone. “I also help lady Aerin with her garden, but because I’m the reason for them to crush her flowers. When I arrived earlier, my heart almost stopped because of an elk on the stable. But he was so nice. Big and scary, but he let me pet him and even stole an apple from my basket.”

“So my elk is a burglar.” Thranduil smirked.

“No… I didn’t mean it that way.” It hurt when you swallowed the food. “He was there and I just…”

When you let another yawn escape, Thranduil noticed how he lost track of time. It’s too late. So late it’s almost too soon. It's just… it’s been long since someone talked to him about things that didn’t really matter. Conversations beyond council meetings about the possibility that the Enemy is still alive, assemblies about his army organization, political discussions that led to nowhere. Something beyond flatterers and cowards without motive. A real conversation.

It’s been long since Thranduil laughed without fear of appearing disrespectful. Or tried to find a dumb but functional comparison instead of powerful yet useless phrases to describe his kingdom. Or discovered that apparently people think that Woodland's elves can decrease in stature to live inside trees. Just a real conversation.

“It is late.” Thranduil said, but only within a moment he stood up. “Enjoy the rest of your night, tîrwen.”

“Same to you, your grace.” You watched the Elvenking disappearing in the hall. “Tîrwen”, you let the word run over your tongue. “I don’t know this one.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

By the beginning of the morning, Aerin made her way to the kitchen. Such was Aerin's astonishment when she saw that not only was her pantry attacked, but that the person responsible for such a horrendous crime was sleeping on the table.

Part of your face was dipped in what looked like a mixture between oatmeal, cherry pie and roast pork. Her disgust at your choices was greater than her anger at seeing the mess.

“You behave like a child. A toddler, even!” She pushed you toward your bedroom trying to sound angry. Your hair smelled of cherry, your mouth stank of pork, and what smeared your face was oatmeal. Aerin was laughing more than anything.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Orange leaf, anise and lemongrass," you murmured to yourself while feathering the straw basket with an old cloth. "That 's it?"

Aerin handed you a pot of honey and a jar of strawberries. "Milk. And sage." She folded a cloth and covered the basket. "Don't forget to eat. I don’t want you passing out."

"Sage?" You arch your eyebrows. "At this time of the year?"

"I need it for a recipe", lied Aerin. "If you can ‘t find it in the village, you shall gather their buds in the meadow. Remember where sage sprouts?”

You sighed. After sleeping for most of the day (and eating for most of the dawn), you weren’t so excited about going all the way down to the village. You could feel a migraine forming right behind your eyes. And considering that summer has already begun to say goodbye, the chances that you will have to enter the meadow are great.

“I do.” You opened the inn’s front door. A cold breeze shivered your cheeks. “Anything else?”

Aerin felt guilty for making you walk so much, but it was for a good cause. The longer you were away, lesser were the chances you would draw even more attention to yourself. And entering the meadow won’t hurt you. It will tire you out, but won’t hurt you. “Good riddance”, she said.

Due to the repairs to the dam, all horses were being used. How amazing for you. Walking down the valley, on the long path towards the village, you passed through many wagons carrying wood and workers. Many elves thanked you, with words or kind gazes, but you didn’t see the need for it.

To stop the water exhausted you, but it didn’t maim you. You’re fine, just a bit tired. It would be weird if you haven’t done something. To let tons of water fall right into the village, aiming and drowning hundreds of people, just because you didn’t want to feel exhausted? That would be perverse.

The quick conversation you had last night with the Elvenking came back to haunt you. “Because I would’ve felt bad if I did not.” As simple as that. You didn’t even thought twice before doing something. You just did.

And even if it could have harmed you in any considerable way, you would still have done it. After all, you owe this to them. No one here had any obligation to have helped you, and yet they did. Aerin did. You owe it to her. You owe her so much.

Walking alone, trapped with your own mind, things that you wish to forget come back to you like hauntings. Every elve that thanked you, that smiled towards you, that said you were a thalieth: they only remind you about what you owe to them. It all just reminds you of how you got there.

Rain dripping on your face, land penetrating your nails, owls chanting. Wind roaring, trees shuddering: it was like being caged inside a monster beating hurt. So wet, and dark, and frightening. And so fucking loud.

That’s how you first woke up, alone in a dark forest, during a thunderstorm. The only thing you could see was a distant light, and you wandered towards it because what else could you have done? When you finally made it out of the woods, following that yellow glam like it would protect you from all your fears, you collapsed on Aerin’s doorstep.

What a first memory to have. 

It’s been a long time since you thought about that. About what happened fourteen months ago. You don’t like to do it. It’s painful. It makes you feel so lonely. But you were alone now, walking down the dirt path, and that memory kept you company.

After the mental scourge, you made it to the village’s core. You roamed the fair, way more tumultuous than usual, seeking Aerin’s orders. You heard whispers about the Elvenking’s frightening presence. About how his army could burn cities to the ground with just a single command. 

That made you chuckle. You heard stories about Mirkwood, but now they don’t seem so legit. You don’t think a cruel lord would compare his palace to a birdhouse. 

You chatted with the elves, tried a better price for the things you wanted, discovered that no one had sage anymore. And little by little that gray cloud that stalked you disappeared. 

Gradually, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth, it faded.

“Are you sure you don’t have sage? Or anything that looks like it?” You begged the tradeswoman at the last stall. “Honestly I can work with anything green…ish.”

She laughed telling you to just go into the meadow, you sighed and waved. At the village’s entrance, when there weren't a lot of people around, you started running. If you get to the sage’s buds soon, maybe you can take a nap. 

You crossed the path and went down an embankment, dirt soiling your dress. It was already old and rusty, a little bit of mud wasn’t a big deal anymore. As you advanced, the weight of your body on the angled ground turned your steps into slips. You almost fell, but you made it to the lowland.

Laughing to yourself, you dropped your basket on a fallen log and searched it for your crimson ribbon. It was so silly, you could have fallen and gotten really hurted, but it was fun.

“As a foreigner I may be wrong, but I am pretty sure that’s not a path for a lady.”

You let the ribbon fall into the mud and a scream escapes your throat. You turned around, a hand up on your chest, and saw the slim figure leaning on a tree. “Does your grace want to kill me?”

Thranduil moved towards you, slowly decreasing the distance between you both. “I saw you running, vendë.” There was something that resembled a smile on his face. ”Thought you were a damsel in distress.”

“Damsel in distress?” You rolled your eyes. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

Something burned inside Thranduil’s chest. “Not in need of help?” He did his best to ignore that fire.

“Lady Aerin demands sage.” You tucked your hair behind your ears. Your ribbon was floating in a mud puddle. “I don’t think that task requires a king’s escort.”

Thranduil stood in front of you. You had to lift your face to look him in the eye. They were so enveloping. Like a river current that hides treasures while fending any intruders. “...could leave a damsel alone in such an environment?”

Ashamed that you didn’t listen to most of what he said, you nodded and guided Thranduil into the field. Following footprints that showed a familiar path, you made your way through natural plantations. Sunlight began to irritate your eyes.

“Managed to rest, vendë?”

“I took a nap.” You tried your best to sound energetic. “It was a really good nap.”

“You should be resting.”

“But Lady Aerin…”

“Lady Aerin should have sent her son to the village.”

“I appreciate it, your grace, but there's no need to defend me from her.” You rubbed your hands against the basket. One should not disagree with a king, but you tend to speak before you think. “Lady Aerin has done more for me than anyone ever did, and for that I’ll always be grateful. I have a debt with her, one that nothing will ever pay. She may not be the kindest, but she's not wicked.”

Thranduil said nothing else. 

For a long minute, you guided him into a wheat field. Leaves tickled your arms, you ran your hands through the wheat as you walked. Tickling. And warm. The breeze played with the sprouts, and you like to imagine that the field was breathing in and out.

“You are more tender than me.”

You turned your head to look at him, hands still playing with leaves. “Do you consider yourself resentful?” You covered your eyes, protecting yourself from the sunlight so you could see him. All you could see was a dark shape.

“I do”, Thranduil whispered. It wasn’t just a confirmation. It felt like sharing a secret. “My anger can be inconsolable.”

“You were injured, weren’t you?” You decided to get closer to him. A shadow, almost like sent from above just for you, made you able to see his eyes. Now you see. Not rivers. They had storms caged inside it. You felt the urge to take his face into your hands, but you kept that desire to yourself. “And no one noticed.”

His calloused hand reached up to caress his face, but Thranduil stopped the involuntary instinct. It wasn’t a question. No one noticed. You didn’t ask, you just knew. Thranduil never felt so seen. “I envy those who grew kind.”

“It’s so easy to grow kind”, you gave him your brightest smile. “But to turn kind? Oh, this is noble.”

All the Elvenking could hear was his heartbeat. There was a sparkle in your eyes. A certain sort of calculated innocence that only a person who suffered can manifest. It was like you had lived an infinite lives before. “You are… sharp.” 

“I’m not”, your bright smile turned into a giggle. You took a step back, suddenly aware of how close you both were. “I don’t think so.”

“I do.” Thranduil’s solemn expression got softer. “I do, maenwë.”

“What does that mean?”

“You don’t know elvish?”

“I know a few expressions.” You went back to walk through the field. Thranduil followed you. “Alassëa rá. Alassë’ arin. Alassë’ aurë.”

“Three different ways to say good morning.” Thranduil chortle. “Practically fluent.”

“Ouch!” You put your hand on your chest, pretending to be offended. “I thought kings were supposed to be polite and pleasant. I guess it’s not a rule.” 

Within a couple of minutes you found the place where sage grows. Analysing every branch, you tried to distinguish all plants growing there. When you found the frosted pointy leaves, you started breaking a few branches. Your basket was already filled with jars and paper bags, but you found a way to make it fit.

“Done.” You covered everything with a thick cloth and rose from the ground. “Lady Aerin sorted strawbe…”

A howl shut you up.

Thranduil held his sword, not drawing it from its scabbard yet. It was a total change. The relaxed countenance, just waiting for you to pick the branches you needed, became as hard as stone. His long body became more aware of space, you noticed that he straightened up. His eyes scanned the meadow, and you knew what he was looking for.

“There are no wolves in Rivendell”, your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

You were right. There were no wolves in Rivendell. It has never been a problem before for your village or any other under Elrond’s protection. But as another howl crossed the sky, you understood that times have changed. And it didn’t change for the better.

“You will stand behind me. Will step where I do and nowhere else. You will not talk, will not scream, will not whisper.” That wasn’t Thranduil’s voice. Not the one you know. It was husky, concentrated, immediate. Each order evokes a clear meaning: the best you can do is obey. Whoever spoke to you wasn’t Thranduil anymore. It was a king. 

“Do as I say.” The Elvenking reached out to you. “Trust me, vendë.”

Your response was as clear as his orders: you held his hand.

Thranduil walked fast, analyzing the ground before stepping on it, holding your hand tightly so that nothing could separate you from him. He didn’t make a noise. You followed him as best you could, the basket weighing on your left arm, and your legs not always able to reach the same spots he did. But you never complained, or asked him to slow his pace, because the howls didn’t stop. They just got louder.

You don’t know how he learned the way back so fast, but within minutes you could see the smoke coming from a village’s house. And maybe that made you let your guard down. Because you only saw it when it was right in front of you.

It was twice your height. The claws could cut through wood without difficulty. Its fangs were bigger than your hands. You read books about it, but no draft could ever translate the fear they emanated. A giant wolf. As smart as human, and as malevolent as the most corrupt man. It was a warg.

Thranduil pulled you behind him, you can remember the gleam of the longsword and the weight of his hand on your belly. A black shadow filled your vision. It all happened so fast. A howl, an illusion of movement, and a blur dominating your eyes. Everything happened so fast.

It wasn’t until you felt the golden hair falling on your face that you understood: it wasn’t a blur, it was an attack. And you were now lying on the floor, sun burning your eyes, with a deep pressure on your shoulder.

Your head fell to the side. Moist grass and a mess that once was a filled basket came into focus. Your eyelids closed, a voice you never heard before told you that darkness had taken you before, and then something shook your body.

You were awake again, and your eyes saw beyond the mess in front of your face. You saw the warg giant body. And you saw his decapitated head.

“There are no wolves in Rivendell”, you coughed. 

The ground has moved away from you. You were flying. But you shouldn't be. You’ll end up flying and flying and flying without knowing how to get back to the ground.

“Maenwë”, you recognized Thranduil’s voice, and within time you saw his face. He was holding you in his arms. There was blood on his cheek. And when you looked down, you saw blood dripping from your shoulder. “Keep talking.”

The voice spoke to you again, and darkness took over your vision. It was so calm, so warm. You let him envelop you.

“I miss the cold.”

[Third Chapter]

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM: @ferns-fics @notanalienindisguiseblink @rayrlupin @elvyshiarieko @graniairish

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[riririkinzi]

I hey guys new AU comimg up! Of Elf Ballister living in the forest parenting and taking care of Nimona the big dragon and other little dragons, that he claims as his children

Got the idea from the Game of Thrones (I never watch that show) and Wolfwalkers

FATHER OF THE DRAGONS

-Okay, so it stared in the kingdom where it's known to be against magical creatures and and magic itself

-Bal's parents are elves, his mother a sorceress and father a merchant in disguise as humans

-Since childhood Bal's mother taught him magic, while he studies like regular children

-Got a scholarship in a privelage school, that's where he met ambrosius

-At age 10 both of his parents died from the incidents, sent into the orphanage that day, still studied magic in secret, and still goes to school thanks to Queen valerin

-Got a room to stay after the orphanage when he was 18

-While practicing his spells without his human disguise, he was exposed as an elf and people were chasing while brining his mothers spellbook and other important item and ran into the woods

-While on the run, he found a giant dragon which is actually a shapeshifter named Nimona injured while being surrounded by bunch of baby dragons

-Bal used his healing spell on Nimona that the little dragons are attached to him

-Bal knew that the dragons aren't safe anywhere near society so he decided to lead Nimona and the dragons into the woods far far away and settled with them

-One day an man spotted Bal in torn and burnt clothing and covered in ashes and the dragon surrounded him in the cave as a puppy pile and nurturing them, thus he returned to the village and began spread the story of Ballister the Father of the Dragons, which became a legend after a few short years.

-Oh and what does Bal look like in the present? Well, he's either naked and covered in ashes of the dragons burned or torn clothing yet stilled covered in ahses

Art is coming soon

[uxuec]

Forest Spirit - Elowen (they/them)

Elowen is the personification of the forest they're bound to protect, commonly known as forest spirits or mother trees. Everything within the borders of their forest is under their caring hand, from trees and fungi to the littlest of animals and even the Elven and Animali communities living there.

More info under the cut! ✨

The birth of a spirit comes from the need to nurture the land. One tree creates another, and when they are enough to be called a forest, a spirit is born in the oldest tree, with the never ending task of protecting the same thing that created them. Elowen is as old as their forest and their forest is as wise as them.

Many are the names they've had through the decades, given by the generations of Elves living there, like The White Lady or Zumar (old tongue).

The relationship between mortals and spirits has always been a complicated one. When the first bird communities settled in Elowen’s forest, they built a palace in their honor. They believed the forest spirit would bring them protection and good luck if they took care of the forest as much as the forest cared for them; and so it was for generations.

Gaining their favor was essential for the prosperity of their growing village, but direct contact with them was believed to be a Bad Omen, as forest spirits are known for being silent creatures that love their space. That's why birds warned their younglings about wandering too deep into the forest, as the spirit living there might curse them for disturbing the peace.

The body of a forest spirit takes decades to get fully formed, unlike the ones from their lava or water siblings. Each forest spirit has a unique look that can be completely different from one another. Forest Spirits, even if shy creatures, love every living being they protect; Elowen was always fascinated by the Elves living within their forest, the biggest Woodland communities in the continent (Sadly difficult to find nowadays).

Because of this love, they modeled their body to resemble the one of an elf, but the understanding Spirits have about mortals it’s not the most accurate. When it was fully formed, they decided to pay a visit to their dear Birds, who were so fond of taking care of the woods and built a palace to honor the spirit. There they meet the youngest son of the Chief Birds, a woodland elf who was in charge of the city’s safety working as a forest ranger.

Elowen quickly formed a great interest for the young elf, who seemed to be the only one who treated them without fear in his eyes, as an equal. The boy was determined and hardworking, always willing to help everyone, as his family taught him. He was able to calm all of Elowen’s deepest concerns, without being aware of it; and looked as fascinated for them as the spirit was about him.

————————

Today was Elowen’s turn! They’re another important character in the story that gives advice and guidance go the main character. They’re married to Aspen, although that’s a secret only a few close friends know, as the birds didn’t approve the relationship between the spirit and the elf.

Their body changes with the seasons. You can find the Almond Blossom, Summer, Cherry Blossom, Winter, Spring and Autumn designs. Making new looks for them is so fun!

Hope you like the info! 🌿

[sotwk]

Last updated: 3/15/24. Newest entry is marked.

Welcome to my Masterlist! I write exclusively for Tolkien, specifically the LotR and The Hobbit series.

For more information about my writer preferences and specialties, please refer to my Fanfiction Request Guidelines.

All my works are also posted in my Ao3 Account.

Sins of Our Fathers (Thranduil x OC Elvenqueen - ongoing series - Second Age 1358) Over the course of a century, Thranduil and Maereth meet and develop a friendship that is destined to become Mirkwood's greatest love story. In Progress.

The Crown (Thranduil x OC Elvenqueen - one-shot - Second Age 3441) Thranduil’s queen comforts him as they prepare on the evening of his coronation. Completed.

A Stab to the Heart (Thranduil & Royal Family - 2-part fic - Third Age 1012) The Elvenqueen is injured in a surprise orc attack, and Thranduil gathers their sons to discuss the ramifications. In Progress.

Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm (Thranduil & Royal Family - 12-part fic - various years, Third Age) Collection of 12 ficlets in chronological order; stories of Yuletide celebrations in the Woodland Realm through the eyes of Thranduil and his family. In Progress.

Greenleaf's Tree (Child Legolas & Thranduil - one-shot - Third Age 248) Six-year-old Legolas goes on royal progress with Thranduil for the first time. Completed.

Greenleaf’s Day Out (Child Legolas & Family - Complete Series - Third Age 250) On a single day in 8-year-old Legolas’s life, he shares bonding moments with each of his 4 older brothers. 6 Chapters. Completed. Full work on AO3.

Unnecessary Guardian (Legolas x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 1254) Legolas wants to guard his friend in her new role as a Mirkwood Spiderhunter. Completed.

The Best Gift (Legolas x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 556) Legolas wishes a "dear friend" a Joyous Begetting Day--but anonymously. Completed.

Transformed (Gelir x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 1554) A Mirkwood huntress is attacked by a dark beast and begins a slow and gradual transformation into a monster herself. Completed.

The Baker from Lórien (Haldir & OC Mother - one-shot- Third Age 246) A visitor from Lórien brings some excitement to the kitchens of the Elvenking's palace. Completed. [New!]

Dandelions (Boromir x she/her - one-shot - Third Age 3015) Boromir brings flowers to his lady love. Completed.

Breathe (Boromir x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 3008) You have harbored a deep, secret crush on Boromir for years, and have now been asked by him to dance. Completed. (Will be continued in an upcoming long fic.)

Taken (Eomer x Reader - 3-part fic - Third Age 3019) A shield-maiden learns her hidden love for the Marshal of her Eored, now the King of Rohan, may not be unrequited as she had always assumed. Completed.

The Broken Shield (Thorin & Frerin - one-shot - Third Age 2791-2799) The young Princes of Erebor forge a surprising alliance with the Elves of Mirkwood to fight together in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. Entry to the Thorin's Spring Forge 2023 event. Completed.

The Task of Living (Thorin x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 2943) The re-throned King of Erebor returns to his former village in Dunland, seeking the woman he has loved since long ago. Completed.

The Only Gold (Fili x OC) - ongoing series - Third Age 2941) Fili, heir presumptive of Erebor, befriends a mysterious elf-maiden during the Company's sojourn at Rivendell. Their bond will shift the courses not just of their individual destinies, but that of their peoples. In Progress.

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Headcanon Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

[puer-aurea]

Mercenary AU - Species

a brief overview of the species in my mercenary au. this is the 'drabble' i said i had planned but i suppose it isnt really a drabble Humans: Martyn, Jimmy, Gem, Ren? Life Expectancy: 70-80 years Info: They're humans, not much else to include. They can do external forms of magic like potion making and enchanting.

Elves: Joel, Scar Life Expectancy: 4000-6000 years (not immortal) Info: There's two types of elves, normal elves and high elves. Scar is a high elf, they are one of the tallest species and their ears are longer and pointy like you'd expect from an elf. Joel is a normal elf, their height aligns with humans and their ears are shorter than high elves but still pointy. Both types possess mana and can do magic but it's quite weak for normal elves compared to high elves, tho still stronger than whatever humans can do (potions, enchanting). Marriage is magically binding for elves, the only way out is to die. So marriage is quite literally till death do us part. They don't physically age but they can die of old age.

Werewolves: Etho, Ren? Life Expectancy: 1000-2000 years Info: They work like other fantasy werewolves, becoming a wolf on full moons. Blue moons act the same as a full moon for them but blood moons give them a stronger lust for blood. When in werewolf form they are mostly controlled by their instincts but can recognize their friends and family and are less likely to hurt them. They age physically and can die of old age. They're also killable but they have hyper healing so you have to be swift if you want to try and kill them for whatever reason.

Fae: Grian, Bdubs Life Expectancy: Immortal|Killable Info: Again, they work like other fae. They are tricksters and will can steal your identity if given the chance. They're one of the only humanoid species capable of natural flight. Fae families are shown by their wings, which are based off of butterflies. Bdubs and Grian have Apollo butterfly wings. Fae also possess mana and can do magic but they're weaker than both types of elf. Marriage for them is similar to elves. They don't age physically and won't die from old age but they can be killed.

Vampires: Mumbo, Pearl Life Expectancy: Immortal|Killable Info: I did change this up a bit. Vampires in my AU can drink blood from any creature, not just humans. Garlic is more like a minor allergy, it won't kill or seriously harm them but they'll have some sneezes. They are more prone to sunburns but won't just like melt or turn to dust in the sun. Their beds are shaped like coffins for the aesthetic and they can turn into to bats making them another humanoid species that can sort of fly. They're immortal like normal vampires and can be killed by stabbing them in the heart. Doesn't necessarily have to be a stake/cross.

Zombies: Cleo Life Expectancy: Immortal|Killable? Info: Cleo is the only zombie in the little secret life village but not the only zombie in the world. She was killed and then reanimated a few years later by a necromancer. Zombie's bodies aren't capable of taking care of themselves so they have to occasionally replace decaying body parts. Besides the immortality and the fact they won't age, zombies are basically humans. They can be killed by destroying the brain.

Imps: Impulse, Tango Life Expectancy: Immortal|Unkillable Info: Imps are mischievous demons. I know imps are commonly portrayed with horns but Tango doesn't have horns while Impulse does. Imps possess mana and can do deceptive magic. Marriage and dating as a whole normally isn't something in Imp culture but it's not unheard of. They are immortal and unkillable but they can be sealed away.

Angels: Scott, Skizz Life Expectancy: Immortal|Unkillable Info: Out of the many types of angels, Scott is a Dominion and Skizz is a Seraphim. Seraphims have many wings and, for this AU, when they're in their full form they have many eyes as well. Dominions have one set of wings (and eyes) and are lesser than Seraphims. They both possess mana and can practice magic but Dominions can only do healing magic. anddddd checks notes looks like the file for lizzie and bigb was corrupted, guess we still wont know what they are!

[tamurilofrivendell]

Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 26

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Taglist: @captainchrisstan​, @rebleforkicks, @yjrevolution, @majahu, @honey-wine, @accio-boys​, @achromaticerebus, @solomonssimp​, @tired-ass-show-girl​, @dreamlessnight​, @daddy-long-legolas​, @sleepyamygdala​, @coopsgirl​ @penguinlovestowrite​

The long carven tables were piled with trays upon trays of food and drink. Fruit, meat, cakes, a few things you could not even name. The kitchens must have worked overtime for this festival but given the amount of elves there were currently seated in this hall, it was hardly surprising. The entire room was buzzing with conversation and laughter. Everybody was drinking merrily. The hall itself had turned out to be completely open-topped, the clear winter sky shining down upon the merriment below. As the time passed, soon enough you would all be feasting and drinking beneath the stars. Feast Beneath a Winter Sky, indeed.

You ate and drank and enjoyed the atmosphere of the room. You talked with those at the table with you, mostly Legolas as Thranduil’s attentions seemed to be rather consistently monopolised by those around him. It didn’t bother you, of course, you understood that he was the king and he had a great deal of duties, even during an event such as this. You had watched him stand to give a speech not too long ago that had officially started the entire festival and he seemed to keep getting caught in conversation with council members and staff or visitors from other realms who had travelled for the festival.

To anyone simply passing, Thranduil was as smooth as ever as he entertained his guests and drank copious amounts of his favourite wine. His frustrations, however, were mildly rising in a secret place within him because it seemed that every time he turned his attention on you, to engage you in conversation, he was pulled in several other different directions that he simply could not ignore. At least you seemed to be having a good enough time talking to Legolas and enjoying the food and drink that had been prepared but he would have liked just a moments peace to include himself into that equation.

It came soon enough, of course, when the music the minstrels were playing changed into something different. A more upbeat, jovial tune intended to get everybody up onto their feet and dancing. It was quite a popular elven song, though you would not have heard it before, and many elves were eager to begin dancing and singing along.

Your gaze followed groups of elves as they rose from their tables and turned towards the dancefloor. You watched their bodies move with the music, fascinated. They danced alone, in pairs, or little groups though this was mostly the much younger ones. They moved more gracefully than you could have ever hoped to achieve but you didn’t care as you were suddenly overcome with the desire to join in with them. The joy in the air was palpable and it was like it was pulling you in.

You turned your head to look at Thranduil, finding him already watching you, and you couldn’t hold back the bright smile on your face as you reached out to him. Your hands found his arm and you clutched at the sleeve of his tunic with an excitement he found difficult to ignore. “Come and dance with me!” You glanced towards the floor again before turning back to him. “Please.”

Legolas looked up from his plate and spoke your name, drawing your attention. “Alas, my father is not much for dancing at these events, I am afraid.” He thought it was better if he got in ahead and told you, rather than his father having to actually say the words and let you down, considering how Legolas had seen you looking at him lately. Maybe it would sting just a little less coming from somebody else. “I may not be quite up to standard but I should be more than happy to spare you a dance or two in his stead, my friend.”

“Actually, Legolas.” Thranduil cut in smoothly, still looking at you even as his son had briefly drawn your attention from him. The slightest hint of disappointment had started to bleed into your enthusiasm, your shoulders dropping just barely. “I think I can quite manage one dance.” He said simply, moving to stand. He extended his arm towards you, watching you rise up from your chair with another smile as you reached out to take his offered hand. He turned and led you towards the floor, leaving his son blinking in his wake.

When Legolas was able to pull himself away from staring in at his father’s back as he led you away, he turned to look at Galion, whose eyebrows were practically touching the heavens. Galion met Legolas’ eyes and then the two of them started laughing.

“Well, my Prince, that is quite the development.” Galion muttered, plucking a goblet of wine off the table and draining the contents in one swift gulp.

“Indeed it is, Galion...” Legolas replied, his expression turning thoughtful as he suddenly stood and turned to move quickly around the outskirts of the room.

The crowd parted like an ocean as the king made his way across the dancefloor, a wide space opening up in the very middle. Thranduil led you to the centre of the room and turned to you, inclining his head slightly. You smiled up at him before you gathered the skirts of your dress and bowed low before him. You lifted your head after a moment, looking up at him. Thranduil was smiling affectionately down at you as he offered you his hand again. You took it, returning his smile, and he pulled you gracefully back upright and, not breaking eye contact, pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

A soft murmur broke out around the room.

Just as Thranduil seemed to be about to begin to move, the tune changed, and something much slower started to ring out across the hall. It seemed to switch out mid song but you didn’t have much time to focus on analysing that as Thranduil suddenly pulled you close, needing no such time to recover, his other hand dropping to your waist as he pulled you in.

Your breath hitched as you blinked up at him, all too aware of his closeness. “I--I don’t really...” Know how to dance like this.

He simply smiled and shook his head, seemingly aware of what you were trying to say. “Just follow my lead.” He murmured as he began to gently pull you with him across the floor.

The watchful eyes of many curious and stunned elves fixed upon the near inconceivable sight of a strange little human dancing with their detached king seemed to go unnoticed. Everything else seemed almost as thought it had melted away completely as all you and Thranduil seemed able to look at was each other. Even Legolas, standing by the minstrels after sneaking over and getting them to change the song to something slower that would force you two closer together, went unseen as Thranduil twirled you around the floor.

[raviollies]

nightmare, pain, secret, and wound for blythe, raha, and lorelai, please!!! (for the not-so-nice OC asks)

Here they are! Enjoy :)

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

Blythe very much has long standing melancholy over the fact that unlike Raha, she is eternal. She is not mortal, and one day he will fade away, and she will remain. She wonders if she will become a Hag at that point, if she will give in to the loss and turn to the Faewild to be with those as unchanging as herself. Raha is her first and only love, so the concept of losing him is a horror she doesn't want to consider.

Raha fears losing the party members, as they are his only friends. He doesn't enjoy being in cities, interacting with others and his only connection to people is the party. Without them, he genuinely wouldn't quite know what he is living for even.

Lorelai fears losing control and attacking others in a blood frenzy, in hunger, consuming her (similar to Raha) only friends, to commit her cardinal sin once more. She wouldn't know what to do with herself, and probably wish to embrace the sun.

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

BLYTHE IS A BABY - She does not have high pain tolerance at all. She rarely gets hurt and even the small injuries she tends to get whiny about. She also does not do a lot of physical manual labour, so even with small injuries she will dramatically toss her hand over her head and proclaim someone else must carry her things.

Raha has high pain tolerance as he is quite used to being injured with his numerous scars from his contracts. He tends to downplay his injuries and not voice any complains often leading to others having to forcibly sit his ass down and patch him up (That's what happens when you're traveling alone for about 150 years)

Lorelai actually almost doesn't feel any pain at all. The only things that can make her feel pain is holy magic or the sun (The only time she has gotten injured over the course of the campaign is when Eirwen accidently splashed holy water over her hands, which took a while to heal as Vampire regeneration is much slower when it comes to such forces). So I guess she has very high pain tolerance? If that counts?

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

Blythe has very rarely gotten physically hurt, usually limited to just small wounds that she heals with magic right away. I wouldn't say she has many emotional/mental wounds outside of Theta - she very rarely holds any care for people outside of the few that she cares for, and they have not

Raha is very much covered in scars, majority of them inflicted by monsters he's hunted through out the years, but the very first scars he got was when he was a child and his village was raided and subsequently destroyed. That is where he got his face scar and signature ear nic, was from that event, when he got trapped under a collapsed building when it collapsed during the raid.

Emotionally, the razing of the village was only the start, and the distrust and rejection from the Elves from a different village that took in the refugees, arguably deeper scars, as it left him feeling isolated and lacking any feelings of belonging to a community. After that he avoided not just humans and elves, finding no kinship with either. Neither elf, nor human.

Lorelai is haunted by her rebirth as a vampire, both physically and mentally. As I mentioned, she was turned into a spawn by her father, which does mean she has a permanent scar on her neck, and had killed him when she became a full blooded vampire. The wound on her neck remains a permanent reminder, and is the oldest and only

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

Blythe is a big fan of bad erotic novels (think booktok.)

Raha has a thing for stockings and heels.

Lorelai doesn't think Tarrasques exist.

[garden-variety-jumo]

Lord of the Rings Culinary Culture Headcannons bc I'm bored.

This isn't based off of any source from the books this is just vibes. I love food anthropology though so.

Elves: They don't seem huge in agriculture to me, kind of because it seems tedious for them to do every year, forever, till they die. So instead I think they'd embrace a more hunter-gatherer approach, with certain areas cultivated so the plants pretty much take care of themselves. I also think they favour food that can be preserved like dried meat and jams so they don't have to worry about the food spoiling as fast. I've heard lembas bread can be made regardless of location, so I dont think it's a patiular grain, but more of a special process in preparing the grain or smth that's kept secret (a little like nixtamalisation). Additionally: their most elaborate meals tend to have a very long process to make- it's not unusual for preparation for a feast to begin months in advance.

Dwarves: I think they would have an emphasis on group meals, as more work can be achieved if everyone shares one big meal rather than going off to make individual ones. Spending the majority of their time underground, I feel like they eat a lot of tubers. I think they would at least originate from somewhere with geothermal pools, and to reflect this have a lot of boiled and steamed foods, as well as burying food in pots near the pools so the natural heat can cook it (I can't remember what culture but there's evidence of this being done with bread). Additionally, I think they'd be fans of pit ovens, rather than pots or cauldrons- using the heat from their forges to heat up rocks for them. [I think there's less roasting on a spit over a fire because the hear from theor forges would burn the food too quickly.] I feel they'd also be very good at fermenting, with halls dedicated to maturing cheeses or aging meat. Additionally, if they eat meat, it will likely be a large land animal like a boar or deer- not so much birds or fish because they aren't really adapted to hunting them.

Humans: they're honestly pretty standard. They were probably behind a lot of advancements, like preserves, but the majority of the time, it's either porridge or stew. I feel like they have the most diversity from establishment to establishment, for example if you went by the sea, a lot of communities use the salt to preserve their food, but more inland other communities may not have heard even of the method. Obviously the bigger the kitchen, the grander the meals can be and the more equipment they can afford, but villages usually have a community oven they can use for bread and pies. While the food itself is pretty standard, they're also the most adventurous in foraging, inadvertently making a lot of once-poisonous plants edible through natural selection, humans are usually thr first to try out a new food, as well as the first to find ways to make it edible.

Hobbits: as expected from a culture who values meals and food to that extent, hobbits are the culinary geniuses of Middle-Earth. In Ancient Rome, they had advanced cooking utensils, that after the fall of Rome, weren't reinvented till the 18th(?) century: Hobbits are like that. They have utensils for every food in every variety you can think of, and while it's unnecessary to actually have, and perhaps inconvenient to use, it's a point of pride and great social status. Not only do they keep incredibly well-stocked pantries, but they've very keen to experiment with new flavours and have a decent trade route for these reasons. Recipes are also a point of pride, and it's considered unspeakable rude to attempt to recreate someone else's recipe. While there are recipe books of all kinds in every house, family recipe books are often handed down in wills, and kept secret from others. Cooking equipment is also passed down in wills. While they also partake in standard agriculture, hobbits also often have their own vegetable gardens, where they grow their proffered ingredients to work with. In the perspectives of other races, they can be a bit snooty about food, however they're simply very well-educated about the matter. Certain cultures can identify more shades of colour, because in their languages they give each shade a different name- it's sort of like that, but with taste. ((Many hobbits are able to identify the type of salt used in a recipe.)) Additionally, they have several festivals a year where they partake in food competitions. They're big fans of using edible flowers in their flavouring

[lec743-my-art]

Merry Christmas Secret Santa @primary-visions

            The day was coming to an end. The sky was painted with bright oranges, light pinks, and stark purples and indigo, just enough light for the three travelers to see by as they made it to their destination. The town was small but thrived on the travelers that must pass through to reach farther lands. There was a comfy inn called Drunk Rats. There was an obvious sign of forgers and black smith smokestacks further in town, but the three travelers were too tired to truly explore the town further than what they could see. Well, the only human of the group was tired. The two automatons traveling with the human could continue for forever if they so choose, but it was time for the two to check if anything needs oiling or if dust needs to be taken out of gears. Staying at an inn was a great place to check for such things.

            “Oh! This place is so cute looking. Do you think I should have my house here?” Soliel asked as he examined the old but sturdy building they were entering. His metal hands touched at the wood gently as he walked with the others.

            The inn wasn’t overwhelmingly loud, but it was noisy with low talking as a dwarf bard near the fireplace strummed on her lute. Candle holders caked with the remains of past candles sat against the support beams of the building as the newly lit candles’ lights danced, giving the whole place a soft golden glow.

            “You say that about every village or town we walk into,” Hati stated, ribbing his follow automat with playfulness and annoyance.

            “There are so many good places to live at!” Soliel said, getting defensive. “I want to live at the perfect place.”

            The human companion, the artificer of the group, sighed at their bickering. They left Hati and Soliel to bicker like siblings that have been together for far too long as they approached the owner of the inn at the front desk.

            “Hi. Do you have room for the three of us? We’ll just take one room.”

            The human woman looked like she was nearing her golden age. Maybe in her fifties if the gray in her blond hair told them anything. The front desk woman had on a very low-cut dress that was brown and blue in color. It looked nice on her. She looked at the artificer and then at their bickering companions behind them. “Are those things yours?”

            The human companion sighed in disappointment at that. “They’re my friends.”

            There was a pause as the older woman looked at the artificer with one cocked eyebrow. They didn’t elaborate to the woman, so she shrugged then said, “It’ll be two gold pieces per night stay. Do you have any horses or livestock with you?”

            “No, it’s just the three of us,” they said as they dug out ten gold pieces. Then they placed them on the counter and the woman took the money and placed a key in its place.

            “Your room will be upstairs, on the right, at the end of the hallway.”

            “Thank you.”

            They went back to their automaton buddies. They overheard them fighting over hypotheticals about how they would handle fighting a bugbear. Hati was proudly saying he’d demolish the bugbear with the perfect strike while Soliel gave him the most leveling look an automaton could give when his face is only a mask of an artistic sun.

            “Okay. Let’s go boys. I hear a bath calling my name.”

            “Coming,” they both cheered as they followed the artificer up the stairs.

            The next day, as the sun rose, Soliel was the first to rise and he went to explore the little town. It was full of people. Mostly humans, as he’s accustomed to seeing, but he has also noticed there’s another thriving population of lizardfolk as well, along with a small, odd population of dwarves, elves and half-orcs. It really did seem like a nice town, with old but well-kept buildings, a flower shop, a sizable food market, two smith shops, a ceramic shop and a stone and wood cutter shop. Soliel circled back to the food market to buy a little snack for his sunshine friend but as he browsed what the food stalls had to offer, he noticed that there really wasn’t much to see. The portions were much too small for what size they should have been, or they were so old that they were starting to rot a bit, which isn’t a good sign.

            Soliel looked to the current food stall owner, who’s stall that he was browsing, and it was a young lizardfolk man sitting behind the cart. He was maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. His scales looked dull, and his face looked gaunt, like he hasn’t had a good meal in a while. He was wearing a simple tunic shirt and it hung off him loosely.

            “Excuse me my good man.”

            The lizardfolk man blinked a bit, like he was taken out of his thoughts and then he turned his snout towards the automaton. He blinked some more before his eyebrow ridges raised higher on his face as he regarded Soliel. “Yes?”

            “I was just wondering, is your town coming across hard times recently.” The bardic automaton motioned towards the lizardfolk’s wares for emphases.

            The lizardfolk man sighed as he leaned back into his chair. “No. It is not recently. It’s been four years.”

            “Oh my! What’s wrong?”

            “Look. I don’t have time for your curiosity, stranger. Either buy something or leave.” He didn’t say it with any power. He sounded like a man who’s extremely tired.

# # #

            “What do you mean he won’t tell me more! I rolled high on my charisma! I persuaded the heck out of him!” Sun whined to you, the Dungeon Master.

            “Look Sun, that’s just all he’s willing to answer. He doesn’t see you as a threat but you’re just an automaton to him. He doesn’t know your backstory, so he doesn’t think you’d understand anything more than what he said.”

            Sun slouched in the kitchen chair as he crossed his arms with a huff.

            Moon chuckled playfully as he rolled a twenty-sided die between his fingers. “You should have threatened him if you wanted more information.”

            Sun sighed, his voice box glitching to give it a gravelly affect. “That’s not the point of my character.”

            From across the kitchen table, Moon shrugged with little remorse at him.

            “So are you going to leave the lizard man alone, Sun,” you asked.

            “I’ll buy those carrots and leave,” he said in defeat as he leaned his flat face up to the ceiling in another show of pouting.

            You nod and then turn back to Moon. “Okay. What is Hati up to then as this is going on, Moon?”

            Moon gave a thoughtful hum as he considered his choices.

# # #

            Hati snuck through the gray alleyways of the town in the early morning. Having left his little artificer to sleep alone as soon as Sun left. He was scouting out the town for the richest people he can steal from. Some small part of Hati could practically hear Soliel say how he shouldn’t steal from people or how wrong it is. His long-time friend and assumed brother isn’t wrong, but Hati doesn’t care. He likes the thrill of stealing from the rich and using it for himself to buy whatever he wants. He sometimes even gives what he steals to the poor kids they encounter on their travels and that usually shuts up Soliel.

            Eventually he came across a government building that was just starting to wake up. At least that’s what it seemed to Hati from his observations. The automaton snuck into the building through a locked back door. The few people he crossed as he snuck through the government building were some general staff that were talking about how hard it’s been to feed their kids and when they are going to be able to farm properly again. Hati shrugged at that as he continued his way to where he deduced the mayor’s coffers to be.

            He narrowly avoided being caught by the mayor’s secretary as he was trying to unlock the door that led to the mayor’s office and therefor to their coffers. The secretary was running out of the office after getting news of some kind. Hati didn’t care for what for, he just wanted money and to get out of there. He inspected the mayor’s office to find it looking drab. Usually, a head of office has a luxurious setting with unnecessary gold-plated items. Hati mentally shrugs at the lack of finery. Relegating it to the town being too small for the mayor to get away with. He found the safe and unlocked it with ease. All that was in the safe was a pouch of thirty silver pieces.

# # #

            “Ah! What!” Moon complained over Sun’s laughter.

            “That’s all you find Moon,” you repeat.

            “Noooo! My character isn’t interested in stealing if it’s not gold. How does a government office not have gold!” Moon ranted.

            “Well, obviously this town isn’t doing so well,” Sun stated with smug satisfaction.

            Moon could only grouch some more against Sun and you.

            “Will you now check to see if there are any papers or documents for why this town is falling on such hard times?” Sun pleaded.

            Moon mechanically sighed, then said, “Fine… What do I roll for again DM?”

            “Investigation.”

            Moon took his twenty-sided die and tossed it on the table. It made little clacking noises before settling. “What does a 12 get me?”

            You cleared your throat. “You’ve been in plenty of offices before. You easily spot that there is a locked filing cabinet in the back right corner of the room, behind the mayor’s desk.”

            “Alright. Let me just roll for Slight of Hand and unlock this sucker.” Moon rolled his twenty-sided die again. “Yes! An eighteen! So all together that’s a twenty-seven.”

            “Tell me again why you chose to be a ranger and not a rouge,” you asked.

            “It’s too on the nose,” Moon said with a shrug.

            “Sometimes, being on the nose isn’t so bad,” Sun stated.

            Moon gave his sunny counterpart the best dead pan look that a robot can when their face is frozen in a permanent smile.

# # #

            Hati muttered to himself as he looked through the papers. Documents of the dead. Documents of newborns. Documents of housing. Reports on farms. Hati decided to look through those a bit more closely. From his quick scanning of the texts, Hati found that the town is having a bit of a bear problem. He would have looked more into it now that his curiosity has been piqued, but then he heard someone running down the halls towards the office he was in, and he had to bail out of the nearest window. He initially tried to jump through the window while it was closed, but he wasn’t strong enough to break it and instead had to open it and then jump out the window. He jumped with the grace of an egg falling out of a nest and hurting himself as he landed on the ground. He quickly ran back to The Drunk Rats Inn.

            The Artificer was drinking water-down beer for breakfast as it seemed that was all the Inn Keeper and Cook were able to provide as food, when Hati and Soliel came back from their exploring. Hati was walking like his ass was broken and Soliel was holding the sadist bundle of carrots the Artificer has ever seen.

            “What have you two been up to?”

            “Something is wrong here,” they both said. Then in sync both automatons turned to each other and pointed at each other at the same time, saying, “You too?”

            “Slow down. Why don’t you two sit down with me and then tell me what’s going on,” The Artificer stated.

            “Uh… Soliel, do you mind giving me a hand?”

            The sunshine robot rolled his head as he let out a mechanical sigh. He sat the carrots on the table in front of their human friend then he pulled out his ukulele and sang a little song to heal the broken machinery of Hati’s ass.

            “Thank you,” the moon themed robot said cheerfully.

            Soliel only grumbled a bit in response as he sat down with him and the Artificer. Hati went first telling the group about what he found, and he rolled his head as they told him how much they disapproved of him trying to steal from people… again. Then Soliel talked about his little romp through town and how lovely it is here but also how everyone doesn’t seem to be all that well fed.

            “You think that has anything to do with those bear problem reports you found, Hati,” the Artificer asked.

            “I don’t know how a bear or even a group of bears could make things go so wrong around here. I would think the local rangers would have taken them down by now.”

            “Maybe they don’t have rangers in this area,” Soliel suggested.

            The Artificer stood up and took the carrots with them and said, “Welp, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s go talk to some elderly.” The Artificer took the carrots with them, taking a bite out of them as the three of them walked, unfazed by the bad taste of the old carrots.

            The three of them found the town square. There were young children gathered together talking or napping under the shade of the buildings and trees. A few young adults were cleaning the town square, making sure it’s clear of dirt and leaves. The elderly was in their own corner sitting around tables and playing boardgames of some kind. The three adventurers approached the elderly. Only one acknowledged their approached as he looked at them suspiciously.

            “What do you strangers want?” The old man had a long gray beard, and the sun shined on his bald head, as if he somehow took the hair on his head and decided to place it on his face to shake up the last years of his life. He was rail thin, but he still had a fire in his eyes, like he’d use his skeleton-like hands to cut you open with just his fingernails.

            “Well, my friends and I have noticed that your town seems to be having a hard time,” the Artificer started, “and we’re trying to figure out what’s wrong so we can help if we can. So what’s going on?”

            “No! That’s none of your concern!” The old man stated as the other elderly nodded in agreement. Except for one lady who was hidden by the crowd saying, “Uh, we could use the help actually.” The old man turned towards the old woman’s voice and yelled, “Ah, shut up, Linda, they weren’t asking you!”

            Hati took a step forward and lend towards the old man, then said, “Well now we are.”

            Soliel was already walking towards Linda, “Pardon us.”

            The old lady was bald, and you could obviously see that she didn’t have any teeth, but she still had a smile on her face that made the initial hostility surrounding them, seem dimmer.

            “So what is going on, Madam,” Soliel asked politely.

            “There’s this monstrous bear out in the woods that has three heads—”

            “Bah! Your eyes are bad! It was a normal bear!” The old man stated.

            “We weren’t asking you, now shut up,” Hati told off the old man. He was officially cowed by the moon themed automatons’ words.

            “Please continue,” Soliel gently coxed Linda to continue.

            “There’s this three-headed bear in the woods. It’s been giving us trouble ever since it’s been here. We’ve sent out so many rangers after it, who have never come back, that it’s felt useless to even ask for help anymore.”

            “Well, we’re willing to help. We can take care of it for you,” Soliel said.

            The old man spoke up with a shake to his voice, “Pah! What makes you three so special? I bet you’ll be asking for money for this service you are wanting to do.”

            The Artificer quickly spoke up, “Of course. It’s only just enough money to support us to the next town we travel to. We need to eat and survive as well.”

            The old man grumbled to himself as the other old folk nodded to that sound logic. The three of them get as much information as they can out of the towns folk and they bargained that if they succeed in killing the supposed three headed bear, they would be paid thirty gold pieces. Once everything was settled, the three adventures gathered their things and made their way into the nearby forest.

            As the three of them walked through the forest, Soliel decided to softly strum on his ukulele to pass the time. Their human friend was lost in their own thoughts thinking about what new magical buffs they can add to their automaton friends. Hati took the lead as the ranger of the group and was trying to find bear tracks. After an hour of walking, Hati had suddenly stopped, and the other two-party members ran into him as a result.

            “Dang it, Hati, what was that for. I was on a rhythm,” Soliel complained.

            Hati put a finger to his face mask and made a shushing noise. Then in a whisper he asked, “Do you hear that?”

            The three of them stood silently in the softly lit forest. All that was heard was the slight rustling of the breeze through the trees.

            “I don’t hear anything,” the Artificer whispered. Soliel nodded in agreement with them.

            “That’s right. There’s nothing. Not the sound of birds. Not the sound of wolves. Or dear or ferrets or any other animal that belongs to this forest. It’s too quiet. It’s like not even the insects are here.”

            The Artificer felt goosebumps prickle their skin and Soliel huddled closer to them as they gripped their ukulele a little tighter.

            “Did this bear just eat everything that’s in this forest?” The Artificer asked as they seriously took in their surroundings.

            Hati took out two arrows from his quiver for him to grip in each hand. “I would bet good money on that being the case. Let’s keep moving. I know we’re getting closer to it.”

            After that, the three of them got lost in the woods for an undetermined amount of time, because Hati was too proud to say he got lost after saying something that he thought made him sound cool. Eventually, the three of them got back on track. At a clearing in the woods, the party then found a big, dark cave with dried blood splattering its entrance and bones scattered everywhere.

            “I think it would be nice if one of us knew necromancy,” the Artificer whispered.

            “Yah, we could raise a whole skeleton army here,” Soliel whimpered.

            “Welp, no time like the present to get this done,” Hati said. Then he ran screaming into the cave making his friends jump at the sudden noise.

            Exasperated, Soliel yelled, “Hati why!”

            The lunar automaton moved too fast for them to react and all they could do was watch him disappear as his voice echoed inside the cave. The two of them stood quietly as it got quiet in the cave.

            “Oh good. It seems the bear isn’t in it’s cave right now,” the Artificer sighed.

            Soliel felt a hot, wet breath on the back of his scrawny neck. The solar automaton whipped around so fast it made the human jump and the two of them came face to face with a bear. Its head is so large it was as long as Soliel was tall. Its eyes were blood shot, and drool dripped down its fuzzy maw. Then something moved around the neck of the giant bear, almost hidden and blended into its long, dark brown shaggy fur. It was two more heads, smaller than the head in the middle, but still just as dangerous looking. For the longest moment, the two of them stared down the massive creature as it sniffed at them. All six eyes then shifted to the Artificer.

            “Oh, no…” They said as they started to back up from the encroaching bear.

            In a panic Soliel cast Confusion on the three headed bear, music filled the air making the world seem wobbly and weak. His human friend shook their head against the music, resisting the magic the solar automaton cast. The three headed bear wasn’t so lucky as it recoiled and stood on its hind legs, looking as tall as a two-story tall building.

            “Sorry!” Soliel yelled.

            “It’s good! I’m good!”

            An arrow shot forward and then hundreds more followed suit. The bear cried in pain, but only attached a near by tree. The two heroes turned to see Hati standing at the entrance of the cave, his bow smoking from using the spell Conjure Volley.

            “So, the cave is empty.”

            “Oh, you don’t say,” Soliel snapped back.

            “Now’s not the time to argue,” their human friend yelled as they took special manacles out of their bags and placed them on their arms. Then like angel wings, four giant olden mechanical arms appeared on their back, having casted Bionic Arms on themselves. “I’m going to try and pin its heads.” They climbed up the bear, using the arrows lodged into its hide as leverage to climb up faster. The human managed to get on top of the middle head of the bear, but just as they were about to grapple the jaws shut, clarity came back to the bears eyes, and it immediately tried to shake the Artificer off. “Aaaaa! Heeeeelp!!!”

            Soliel strummed on his ukulele and sang a song called Hold Monster. Immediately the three headed bear was still, but its body trembled as it tried to fight off the magical hold it was under. The human sighs in relief.

            Hati shot two arrows from his bow at the bear, both striking true. The second arrow caused thick spiney vines to spout out of the ground and wrap around the three headed bear’s hind legs. Even though it couldn’t open its mouth as it was still being held down by Soliel’s magic, they heard it cry viciously from the pain.

            The Artificer placed a pair of hands on each head, then used Taser. A charge of deadly electricity raced through the bear, causing its fur to smoke. Then the bear managed to break free of Soliel’s magic and one of the smaller bear heads managed to grab the Artificer by their boot. The bear shook them around before releasing them. The human flew through the sky and hit their back against a thick tree trunk and flopped to the forest floor.

            Soliel reactively ran towards their human friend but as he tried to get to them, the bear managed to catch him with its paws and sent the automaton flying backwards, making him disappear into the bushes of the forest. The bear then got to work on biting the spiney vines off of its body.

            Hati let loose another spell of Conjure Volley. Hitting the bear mostly in its back as it was in pain but still focused on getting itself free from the vines. The lunar automaton pulled out two arrows from his quiver and then charged at the bear with the arrows held high above his head.

            The Artificer struggled to get back on to their feet, even when using their extra limbs as crutches. They looked up in time to see Hati flinging himself at the three headed bear. “Hati! It’s not even restrained anymore!” Their friend ignored them as the ranger robot continued to stab the now free bear with his arrows. The bear set its eyes on the human and growled hungerly at them as they started to lumber towards the only flesh and blood being within a hundred-foot radius. The Artificer pulled out a disk from their bag and as the bear got closer and opened its jaw towards them, the human threw the disk into their mouth. The bear retracted a bit, finding the odd disk tasting funny, then the human magically set it off and the disk blew up like a bomb in the bear’s mouth. The middle head gurgled in pain as the other two heads howled in pain with the middle head.

            Soliel managed to finally drag himself out of the bush and came back into the clearing seeing that Hati was hanging on to the bear’s chest hair, and that his human friend was essentially cornered by a bloody mouthed bear. The bardic robot shook the leaves out of his ukulele and then started to strum Vicious Mockery, telling the bear how stupid it is and how weak and pathetic it is and how it doesn’t belong in the forest. It shook the three headed bear to its core. Hati barely managed to get out of the way as the bear fell to its stomach.

            Hati aimed an arrow into the sky and as the arrow fell towards the downed bear, he cast Conjure Barrage and hundreds of arrows rained on the bears back. The bear let out a weak roar.

            The Artificer kept their distance from the bear as they pointed with three hands at the creature. Then they let loose another Taser spell at the bear’s head. With one last weak gargle, the bear died before the three of them. The three of them sighed in relief.

            “That was rough,” the human stated as they wiped sweat off their brow.

            “That was an invasive species if I’ve ever seen one,” Hati remarked as he put away his bow and arrows.

            “Yah, and maybe next time, don’t just run headfirst into a problem,” Soliel scolded his fellow automaton.

            “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

            “Guys, let’s cut its head off so we have proof we did the job. Soliel, do you have any juice left to heal me. I’m not feeling too good.”

            The solar robot got it’s ukulele in position, “Of course.

# # #

            “And then the three of you managed to drag the heads to the town and the towns folk rejoiced and had a big celebration in your honor for actually defeating the monster that has been terrorizing them for years. You were given your thirty gold pieces like you were promised and extra travel supplies as an extra thank you for what you three did. The end.” You said, finishing the campaign.

            “Yay! Happy ending,” Sun said as he clapped.

            “Thank you for this. We really enjoyed playing this with you,” Moon stated.

            “Of course. I’m happy you two were interested in trying it with me.”

            Sun nodded with a giddy mechanical hum and Moon held your hand. Then the three of you cleaned up your dnd mess and continued your day doing chores and personal hobbies.

[sapphim]

I'm thinking about making the three prefab world states that you can choose in DA2 (as opposed importing your own save) customizable. So I had to go through and note down what their default flags were.

The Hero of Ferelden worldstate is a male human noble. The Martyr worldstate is a female dalish elf who performed the ultimate sacrifice. And the No Compromise worldstate is a male dwarven noble. We'll call them Hero Aedan, Martyr Lyna, and Uncompromising Duran.

Martyr Lyna, by nature of being a member of clan Sabrae, will be mentioned quite a lot in dialogue, particularly Merrill's, as opposed to the other two heroes. None of them initiated a romance with any of their companions.

Uncompromising Duran recruited the templars and the werewolves, while Aedan and Lyna recruited the mages and elves. Aedan convinced Zathrian to end his life and cure the werewolves, while Martyr Lyna killed them. Duran enables the quest Changing One's Nature while the others lead to an encounter on the Wounded Coast.

Martyr Lyna placed Bhelen on the throne and receives the Last of his Line quest, while the lads both supported Harrowmont. Only Hero Aedan sided with Caridin and destroyed the anvil. The other two aided Branka in securing it.

All three heroes defended a beseiged Redcliffe Village. Uncompromising Duran knocked Isolde out cold and killed Connor. Hero Aedan and Martyr Lyna both called upon their allies at the Circle of Magi to enter the fade and confront the demon. However, while Hero Aedan defeated the demon and set Connor free, Martyr Lyna cut a deal for power in exchange for allowing the demon to play dead and return and possess Connor at a later date. Hero Aedan would have received that cut Teagan and Connor quest, had it not been cut.

It is only in Martyr Lyna's worldstate that news of Andraste's sacred ashes has been revealed to the world, activating the Miracle Makers quest, which raises an interesting question. The only way to secure Genitivi's silence on the matter is either to tell him you've defiled the ashes, or kill him. So, which did Hero Aedan do? Perhaps I'm overthinking this and he simply ghosted him, instead.

Hero Aedan placed Alistair on the throne at the Landsmeet. Loghain did not survive that encounter. Martyr Lyna spared Loghain's life, and Alistair left the party to rule with Anora. Uncompromising Duran supported Anora, recruited Loghain, and drove Alistair into exile. Bioware doesn't give a fuck about Warden Alistair so this all checks out. All Alistairs, of course, have cameo appearances.

Only Hero Aedan accepted Morrigan's offer and performed the Dark Ritual with her. Martyr Lyna, of course, martyred herself, while Uncompromising Duran martyred Loghain.

All three heroes recruited Zevran, unlocking A Murder of Crows, and Leliana. Martyr Lyna (or, well, her successor anyway, we'll call her Shmartyr Shmyna) and Uncompromising Duran recruited Nathaniel, of Finding Nathaniel fame, while Hero Aedan instead receives the Fool's Gold quest. Did he execute Nathaniel in cold blood, as he did Genitivi? The world will never know. In a bold move, Uncompromising Duran refused to recruit Anders. It's an interesting choice, considering Anders blatantly doesn't care whether or not the import says he was recruited.

Hero Aedan and Shmartyr Shmyna both pledged their forces to defend Amaranthine's farmland, and defended the city from assault (Secret Rendezvous), while Uncompromising Aedan patrolled the arling's trade routes, and left the city to fend for itself while he repelled the attack on Vigil's Keep (The Conspirators). Unlike the lads, Shmartyr Shmyna failed to establish the renowned Silver Order.

Hero Aedan and Shmartyr Shmyna both allied with the Architect, while Uncompromising Duran killed him.

None of the prefab world states set variables for DLC other than Awakening. We may never know how Hero Aedan reacted to meeting Morrigan again, after the birth of their child. There were no witnesses.

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 9 - Gandalf does not know all

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series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

nineth chapter synopsis: Gandalf had his first good morning in ages. It ended as quickly as it started. [1K]

warnings: female!reader. pre-Smaug. the plot is plotting.

glossary: Mithrandir: Grey Pilgrim

It was a good morning. An absolutely good morning for Gandalf. Either he wished for it or not, it simply was. He felt good that morning. It was a good morning to be good.

Gandalf can count on the fingers of one hand how many of those he had in his life. Not a bad, wrong or slightly annoying occurrence this far. The sunlight was gentle on his back, a cold breeze of autumn stroked his skin with a dear friend kindness since he entered this path. As his sorrel went up hill, his worries turned into something else.

Into something easier to bear.

It has been far too long. Elrond needed them. With the hordes of vile creatures attacking Rivendell, Gandalf and Saruman helped Elrond to reign instead of only react. Now, Gandalf is  back to the inn he saved a lifetime ago. Back to you. Just as he promised them months ago when their hopes were near extinction.

Saruman’s plans were almost perfect. There was no way for them to be sure of how your mind would react, if your conscience would break and shatter to their interference. Doubt tasted like vinegar on their mouths. Even the brief light of an alternative, the possibility of some sort of cure, died before their eyes. But as much as they fear the outcome of that solution, they needed to do something.

They could not just sit and watch as you agonized towards death’s embrace.

That is the reason why, even without any proof that it would work, Gandalf agreed. And that is exactly why Radagast did not.

He was determined to do things his way. Radagast kept on searching for a cure, a forgotten knowledge that would save you. He did not liked Saruman’s plan, and for the sake of honesty so did Gandalf, but it was the only one they had. The more they waited, the paler your eyes got.

At the end, Radagast gave in. A choice made out of pure despair, but a choice nonetheless. With conditions, they all had theirs, the cousins put an end to your suffering.

Saruman needed you to recover somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from any sorts of dangers. Radagast wanted it to be near nature, so his eyes and ears could watch over you. And Gandalf needed someone able to keep you in line, keep you safe, until…

(you recovered? you came back to being you? you remembered what happened that tempestuous night? your body finally give in to the deep, piercing power still crawling inside you? you came to an end and something else takes your place?)

Aerin’s inn fit perfectly on their necessities, and so did her.

The stable’s door were open. Gandalf dismantled his corsel, and watched as a tall boy took care of it. Did you grew tired of the horses? Mayhaps Aerin decided you are better doing something else. Disappointed you were not the first person he saw there, Gandalf grabbed his staff and wandered towards the inn.

At the entrance, he heard Aerin complayinig. A frame that should have been higher, candles way to close to her precious scarlet curtains, the shuddering need of better chairs. Gandalf stood quiet on the main hall, watching as the elve walked around and took care of her precious inn.

“You are not able to begin to imagine the amount of energy I put into…” Aerin turned around, and her body suddenly stopped. Her words died inside her mouth, and a crippling silence tamed the room.

“Is that how you welcome an old friend?” Gandalf teased her.

Aerin thought about moving, she wanted to, but her body chose not to obey. She looked somewhere, anywhere, and tried to find the right words. The world was never so loud. With her left eye twitching, Aerin breathed in. “Mithrandir, have you read any of my letters?”

Gandalf’s smiled died slowly. He held his staff closer to his body, and took the pipe he fit on it. Glancing at the stairs, searching for you, Gandalf lit it. “We both know the answer to that question. Tell me, what happened?”

Controlled by fear and shame, Aerin guided him to her office. A few flight of stairs felt like a journey. Aerin locked the door, but did not let go of the knob. Her forehead fall against the wood, and Aerin allowed the cold to ease her mind. “The Elvenking was there,” she begun by the easiest part. “For weeks.”

Gandalf knew he would be close. When Thranduil announced it at the Counsil, he felt relieved. Better him than Elrond or Galadriel. They would have recognized you instantly. But now, after seeing how Aerin looked eons older, maybe it was a mistake from his part.

“They became friends, I thought so, but when the warg bit her… The look on his face,” Aerin turned, now brave enough to face the man to whom she broke her oath. “Gandalf, it was the face of a man in love.”

His hands trembled. You were not there to welcome him. Months passed since the incident, more than a year, but you were not fully recovered. A warg bit you. “How is she?”

“Alive,” Aerin answered. Oh, if only the warg was their biggest problem. She opened a drawer, and hesitated before giving him the sealed letter. “Recovered, as good as new.”

Gandalf tored the seal open. It was your calligraphy. Your words. Your signature. That letter was not only a goodbye, but also an invitation.

Gandalf burned in front of her eyes. He absorbed the light, as if even the sun knew better than to not surrender to his powers. “YOU LET HER GO TO MIRKWOOD?”

Aerin almost fell to her knees. “She runaway during the night. I swear, I did everything so she would stop exchanging correspondences with the Elvenking …”

“YOU DID NOT WARNED ME!”

“Of course I wrote!” This time, Aerin yelled. “I wrote for you when she was bitten, when she woke up, when the Elvenking became a problem. I wrote when she was gone, when I followd her in the path to that sick land, when I came back without her.”

Gandalf dropped the letter, and light went back to work as it usually does. Aerin breathed deep, air burning her throat, and closed her eyes. When his hand touched her shoulder, it was not threatening.

“I will find her,” Gandalf warned. “And she will come back. Will you take care of her again?”

“Of course, Mithrandir,” Aerin did her best not to bust into tears. “But the Elvenking…”

“The Elvenking can try to stop me, but nothing will keep me from defending my family.” Gandalf unlocked the door, and glanced at Aerin one last time. “After all, I was invited. Thranduil does not strike me as a bad host. ”

Good morning. What a fucking lie.

AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM: @ferns-fics @notanalienindisguiseblink @rayrlupin @elvyshiarieko @graniairish @whore-of-many-hot-men @h0ly-fire @h0n3y-l3m0n05

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[sarilolla]

*looks at my three main Trolls aus (and the other not posted ones)*

Damn this creatures going through the horrors

Anyway, I’m bored and made the mistake of listening to SCP readings before bed (again), so feel free to send me asks about my aus! Different Beat, Experiment Pop, and Hanahaki Branch plus the ones I haven’t posted about or have only mentioned, I'm hopeful for questions about any of them :)

Other asks and headcanon asks are open too! Don’t need to be about an au, I just have a need to ramble rn

Just a warning, some of these are dark and slightly (or very) gruesome and few or none are completely happy (I'm so sorry Trolls, I love you)

I’m sorry, these creatures have infected my brain and the only way to get them out is angst, misery and pain

Small descriptions of each au:

Different Beat: Featuring my main oc Juniper, Poppy’s older cousin, this is an au where the Pop Trolls distance themselves from Troll Kingdom after escaping the tree. King Peppy is dead, Viva is gone, so Poppy is queen at age 5 as Juniper is String Keeper (the position is separate to ensure survival of their tribe and their music under the Bergens). Current point in timeline: 10 years after the escape, the royal cousins plus Branch, Cooper, and a new friend Jackie (oc) is on their way to Vibe City

Experiment Pop (Warning: Will become darker after a while): Tired of the flavors of the Trolls, the Bergens experimented on them. The Pop Trolls became twisted and odd, gaining new powers in the process. Being grey makes Branch’s powers go haywire, and Poppy is keeping a secret about hers. Current point in timeline: Just after the failed 20th anniversary of freedom party, Chef captured no Trolls (ORIGINAL STORY IDEA THAT HAS BEEN POSTED NO LONGER FULLY APPLIES! Big changes have been made to add more angst and also incorporate some new headcanons and the Trolls 3 characters)

Hanahaki Branch (Warning: Will involve death and other semi-dark topics, as explored in my ficlets): Despite being left behind by his brothers, Branch still loves them. They were his everything in the beginning, and that love manifested in flowers blossoming inside his lungs. He gets a support system in Poppy, the Snack Pack and Kismet, but will he survive when his brothers are nowhere to be found? Current point in timeline: Start of the first movie, Poppy and Branch agreeing to go together to Bergen Town

Then there’s the little mentioned or not posted ones

Viva has the Pop String: Escaping Bergen Town came with a huge loss, not just with the Trolls left behind, but the potential of their entire genre disappearing. Peppy still has to build up a village and raise his daughter, but the loss of the oldest and their music (arguably their most powerful weapon), weighs heavy on him. When the World Tour rock-and-rolls around, how will things work out? Potential WIP, might be worked on after one or more fics have been finished

Product Pop (Warning: Dark stuff. Trolls are seen as livestock/slaves. This au is NOT kind to them, and I don’t see a happy ending for it. (Made after the second movie came out)): The Pop Trolls escape but they’re few, and things aren’t stable for a long time. Branch and Cooper leave after 10 years, longing for a place where they will fit in better (Cooper in Funk, and Branch in Rock (his mother is a Rock Troll in most of my aus)). King Peppy is sick, and dies, leaving Poppy to rule at just age twelve. Not a year later and they’re found by a species called Elves, specifically by a woman named Lilith Silvertongue. Just as awful as the Bergens but greedier, she takes the entire village and finds a way to extract their essence without killing them, turning them into livestock for her candy she sells to other giant species. She keeps Poppy as a pet and the mascot of her brand, her little songbird, and takes the Pop String too. When she discovers there’s more Trolls out there with potentially different flavors, well, she will find them, even if she has to force Poppy to become a traitor to her species. Technically a WIP, but it needs polish before I will post anything “official”

Pop World Tour: (After the second movie, other genres taking over became a popular trope, so I’m piggybacking on that but with Trolls 3 characters too) The first movie didn’t end on a happy note, and around half of Pop Village was lost. Poppy has the Pop String, and searches old records about its history. That’s also when she finds out she has a sister and potentially more people out there. Obviously, she needs to reunite them. She needs to reunite them all! With her fiance Branch there’s nothing they can’t do! Viva is skeptical of her baby sister’s plan, instead wanting to offer sanctuary to the surviving Pop Trolls. Poppy is not happy about that, and uses the Pop String to hypnotize the Putt Putt Trolls to help them take over. Clay escapes after a tense confrontation with his baby brother, and has to find the rest of his brothers to see if the Perfect Family Harmony can snap his people out of their current state. With Pop and Putt Putt Village combined, Poppy sets off with her love and her sister to reunite all of Trollkind in a place out of range of any and all giant species who might harm them (having heard rumors of Mount Rageous). Will Poppy succeed in her plan? Will Cooper accept finding his biological family (Poppy promised him they wouldn’t be hurt)? Will Branch come to his senses and help his brothers? Will Brozone manage to unite, perhaps with new friends, against their own tribe? Potential WIP