#Nap after the elf wars

[absolutely-normal-about-x]

Actually X should Punch Zero in the face and then cry in the X5 reunion scene.

X: Where have you been!?

Zero: I hid m-

*Gets punched in the face*

Zero: OW, X WHAT THE FUCK!?

X: HIDING YOURSELF MY BLUE TUSH!! NEXT TIME CALL US YOU IDIOT!! *Hugging Zero while tearing up*

Zero: *Sighs* yeah don’t worry buddy, I won’t pull that again…

[starsofarda]

I have seen that post about Maedhros being found in Moria by the Fellowship after being woken up by the longest unvoluntary nap ever. And yes, I know "Archaeology", anfic on a similar premise.

But today I wouldlike to linger on the comedic aspects of "the Fellowship expected a Balrog to come, but instead First Era Maedhros Feanorian appeared, albeit slightly charred, and now the Fellowship is adding a 10th member to the Fellowship".

For the sake of story I am still gonna say that Gandalf fell down the bridge, because ACTUALLY there was a Balrog.

Anyway the Fellowship minus Gandalf and plus Maedhros waltz in Lothlorien giving Galadriel a whole new range of emotions.

"I WAS EXPECTING GANDALF YOU ALL HAVE BROUGHT BACK A WAR CRIMINAL FROM AN ERA BYGONE AND ALSO MY COUSIN THRICE REMOVED."

Maedhros picking up IMMEDIATELY on the effect that the Ring is having on everyone and having a heart-to-heart with everyone and explaining the whole Silmarillion ordeal.

"Yikes." Everyone nods in agreement to the sentiment epressed by the Hobbits.

As an extra layer Mae asks if they are bound by any oath. "No, Elrond was quite insisting that we would NOT swear ANY oath."

Cue Mae crying.

Somehow Sam clicks immediately with Maedhros and when Frodo leaves the Fellowship Sam is already there all geared up for literal war and with all advice and tips on how to effectively kill orcs.

Somehow Merry and Pippin manage to make Mae smile. Their next mission is to make him laugh.

This reminds him of the Ambarussa. Mae cries again.

Gollum will underestimate that and it will be his doom.

"No Mr.Frodo, Sir Maedhros explained to us very clearly what happens with cursed artifacts, we are leaving Gollum here. Sir Maedhros was so kind, he explained to me everything I need to know."

Boromir lives, because killing Orcs turns out way easier with someone who can instill in them the very fear of the Valar.

Saruman has an incredibly short span.

"Oh? A palantir? My father's invention? Here? Yeah, I am gonna take that."

Somehow everything is a little easier?

Gimli crying because somehow he heard (ancient) Khuzdul from an Elf and now Maedhros has to understand since when Dwarves and Elves do not get along.

The company coming back to Imladris and causing Elrond to break down crying uncontrollably and in a very undignified manner.

"Lindir" hears the cries and when he sees Mae he's crying as well. It is revealed that "Lindir" is actually Maglor.

When the last ship sails for Valinor, the Valar grant M&M to come back due to repentance and various services in aid to destroying the Ring.

Galadriel is still not over the fact that MAEDHROS FEANORIAN was in Lothlorien and she could not even slap him.

At least in Valinor M&M can now hug mama Nerdanel and stay with her. Eventually all brothers will be reimbodied.

Thoughts? Comments? Prayers? Silmarils?

[shirefantasies]

Lord of the Rings Masterlist

(All works are x GN!Reader unless otherwise specified!)

☆ = Personal Favorite

ღ = Suggestive

꩜ = Humor

𖠋 = Parent AU

☮ = Platonic

Reactions/Scenarios

How The Fellowship Acts Around Their Crush

The Fellowship When Their Crush Cares For Their Wound ღ꩜

Napping With the Fellowship ☆

Calling the Fellowship Pretty

When You’re Naturally Physically Affectionate

When You Give Them Flowers ☆

Their Favorite Body Part of Yours ☆

When You Call Everyone Pet Names

When You’re On Your Period (F!Reader) ღ

What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character? ღ☆

Reaction to You Wanting Cuddles When Stressed

How They Confess to You ☆

With a People-Pleaser

Cold Hands, Warm Heart ☆

How Many Kids Do They Want? ☆𖠋

When You Have a Loyal Canine Companion

Things You Do Together ☆

Youngest Member is in a Courtship ☮

How the Fellowship Comforts You After a Nightmare ☆

The Fellowship Reacting to Your Fear of Heights

LoTR Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version) ღ

Lotr Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader) 𖠋

How the Fellowship of the Ring Treat You When You’re Shy

LoTR Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader) ☆𖠋

How LoTR Characters Spend Your Birthday With You

LoTR Characters Finding Out You Were in an Abusive Relationship

Reacting to Their Flirty Jokester Crush

Seeing You Dressed Up For the First Time ☆

When They Accidentally Walk in on You Changing ꩜ღ

The Fellowship With Your Feline Companion

LoTR Characters + Buff Woman

One-Shots

Horse-Maid- Eomer x F!Reader

A Failure of Words- Haldir x GN!Reader ꩜

The Steel Lady of Imladris- Elrond x F!Elf!Reader

Sweet Spot- Boromir x GN!Reader ☆ ღ

Pie in the Sky- Pippin x F!Hobbit!Reader ☆

This Means War- Elrond x Wife!Reader (Drabble) ☆

The Weight of a Heart- Galadriel x F!Reader ☆

Hold Fast to Me- Legolas x Reader (Drabble)

Kissing Practice- Teen!Eowyn x F!Teen!Reader ☆

All the Pretty Things- Eowyn x F!Neurodivergent!Reader (Drabble) ☆

Safe Right Here- Faramir x F!Reader (Drabble)

Headcanons

Miscellaneous LoTR Headcanons

[pigfacedbitch]

Falling In Love With Leo Valdez

summary : title speaks for itself. reader is a daughter of Poseidon. timeline is from the lost hero to mark of Athena.

word count : 0.7k

type : imagines

pairing/s involved : Leo Valdez x Reader, Brother! Percy Jackson x Reader

warning/s : dealing with a loved one's disappearance, depression, and coping

here is my masterlist!

Percy is the amazing older brother anyone could ever ask for. He made sure that you were thoroughly trained and well-oriented on what it means to be a demigod.

The only downside? He is extremely protective, especially when someone is romantically interested in you.

"PERCY!" You see the camper who flirted with you earlier got knocked off of his canoe and almost drowned in the lake.

"What? It wasn't me."

But his face says otherwise. He can be insufferable.

You love him dearly anyway.

So when he vanished that summer, you are a mess. Chiron had to monitor your every move because you might try to find Percy on your own.

Annabeth told you she received a word of where he is and assured you that everything will be okay. Instead she brought back three strangers with her.

One particularly caught your attention with his elf-like features and scrawny build. You found him... cute.

As expected, Leo flirted with you right away. How could he not? You are hot! 😍

"Hey there, cutie. Are you a goddess?"

"No. My name is (Y/N)."

"Leo Valdez but you can call me anything you want-"

"How about dead?" Annabeth cuts him off, giving him an icy glare. That was enough to shut him up.

Leo uses all of his time to be with you. He is so in love, it's almost sickening.

At first, it's just harmless flirting.

Then he notices the little things— you don't eat that much, easily space out in conversations, lethargic, and has always a forlorn look on your beautiful face.

You, on the other hand, have repressed your emotions to look 'strong'. Annabeth tries to be there for you but she is suffering too.

That's why you bawled your eyes out when Leo asks you about Percy one night.

After that, he swears to you that he will be there to help you cope and look for your brother as well.

He lessens the flirting, shifting to jokes and funny stories that make you laugh.

Disobeying the rules in the dining pavilion, he eats his meals with you on the Cabin 3 table.

You're the first person he brings in Bunker 9, letting you use the place for your own leisure. You often nap there.

Despite the instant attraction, trust gradually grows between you and Leo.

You weren't some silly crush anymore but someone Leo can confide in, and he to you.

Those who observe see that you are becoming lively again. Your smile is no longer forced, you're now eating well, and looking forward to training and games.

The moment you realize Leo wasn't just a friend was because of some jerks who think you were out of his league.

"Come on, man. She wouldn't date you."

You quickly walked up to them and kissed him in front of everyone.

To say Leo is surprised is an understatement. He almost blew up right then and there. That was his first kiss.

You had to pull him to your cabin to confess properly. Let's just say Leo had more than his first kiss that night. 👀

You two aren't officially dating yet, probably because of the war that's about to come.

However, you act like you do— displaying affections, acts of service, and most importantly, keeping each other alive.

There were no need to exchange I love yous, actions were more than enough. Though, Leo loves saying that to you whenever he can.

Annabeth knows Percy will likely kill Leo but if he makes you happy then why not?

Flashforward to Camp Jupiter, you walk to Reyna with Jason and the others. By the distance, you see Percy running towards you with his hands reaching out.

He engulfs you in a hug that you're sure will break your ribs.

"How come my little sister got smaller?"

"Shut up."

You both feel the heavy weight of worry on your shoulders disappear, Percy tigtening his hug on you if that was possible.

Even with the danger looming over all of your heads, you felt safe and content in Percy's arms. Everything seems perfect.

Now, there's only one problem...

How can you tell Percy that you're in love with Leo without the chances of drowning him to death?

[nichirinpen]

An Unlikely Companion- Chap 3

Astarion x Reader

Also on AO3 here

Word Count: 7,076

Synopsis: You were a no one. No skills for fighting or adventure. You lead a simple and very quiet life in Baldur's Gate. And that was fine. Until it wasn't and you were dragged out into the wilds, thrust into an adventure you couldn't want less.

Content Tags: AFAB reader descriptions, gore, violence

You didn’t go back to the grove in the morning. Nor the next, nor the one after it. Four days  passed in this fashion. There was no time for even the simplest of questions. Something large was brewing, something dangerous. Tav and their companions were in and out of the small camp like whirlwinds. Leaving in full gear and returning hours later covered in blood. Sometimes theirs, but most times, not. 

While the sun burned brightly during the day, you didn’t have the courage to try and walk back alone. Not with how each day, Tav and their companions seemed to come back more blood soaked each time. The stench of battle followed their every step and you knew beyond the camp's borders waited creatures with ill intent.

There was barely a lull in their activity, the group barely pausing to even bath or sleep. Exhaustion clung to Tav, and the few times you thought to ask, you’d find them alone, expression filled with an odd sadness. So you didn’t press the issue, resigning yourself to your lot in life. To life in the camp. It wasn’t so bad after all, the camp was safe for the time being and luxurious compared to the Grove. And besides, they never left you alone, at least one of the group always in camp. Often relaxing, but more often recovering from battle, wounds magically healing as they sipped ale by the fire. You noticed that Tav never rested, their excursions driven by a barely hidden desperation. 

While you had quickly become accustomed to your new lot in life, you did spend the quiet moments worrying about the teiflings. About if Kagha had kicked them out. If Zevlor had finally snapped and went after the druids. If the goblins had finally killed them.

While Tav didn’t see fit to fill you in on the adventure, you weren’t blind to the ongoing strife. Through hushed conversation you gleaned some of what was at stake. The conflict at the Grove was just a small slice of what was to come. A war of sorts brewing and all of Baldur’s gate at stake. Tav was a single human and yet, seemed determined to save all of Faerun by themselves.

“FUCK.” You looked up at the familiar sound of Astarion cursing. “Put me down you clumsy pillock. This is your fucking fault!” 

Setting aside the mending you had been attempting, you stood. Beside you, Scratch let out a yawn, stretching as he stood from where he had been napping. You absentmindedly patted his head, watching the underbrush part. The pale elf was being helped back into camp by Gale. Both were blood soaked and at a quick glance you could see a huge laceration in the Astarion’s side. Something had cut him deep. He all but howled as Gale lowered him to one of the cushions near the fire.

You rushed over, pushing up the sleeves of your dress. The apron you had been wearing came off in a single tug and you pressed the cloth to his side. Gale moved from your side, dashing into his tent with a pinched look on his face. You looked after him for a moment and then back to the man scowling in front of you. Somehow he was even more pallid than normal, beads of sweat adorning his brow like small crystals.

You ignored his less than pleasant look, keeping your hands pressed firmly against the wound. It was funny how a few days in a new environment could change a person. Days ago you would have balked at the sight of blood. The urge to flee and cry would have been your first reaction.

But now? Now it was somehow normal. Still unpleasant, the sticky warmth spreading across your fingers was disgusting. But you stayed put, trying your best to stem the flow.

Astarion was panting weakly, on the verge of passing out. His glare simmering down to nothing more than a slight narrowing of his eyes. 

“Here we are.” Gale had thankfully returned. He held a weathered scroll in his hands, quickly unfurling it and reading off whatever it said. There was a greenish shimmer to the air and Astarion shuddered, a low hiss escaping his lips. Just like that, his wound sealed itself, the blood on his side quickly becoming a congealed scab.

He stood shakily, shoving you aside in the process and stomped to his tent. You glared from your spot in the dirt, swallowing the curse you wanted to fling after him.

“Sorry.” Gale offered you a hand which you took gratefully, standing slowly. 

“I may have fallen into a Spider pit of sorts. Needed rescue.” The wizard offered a sheepish grin at your perplexed look. You didn’t want to meet the size of spider that could make the deep wound Astarion had.

“Sounds like an absolute nightmare.” You murmured, scowling down at the bloodied mess your apron and hands had become. So much for a thanks. Gale followed as you made your way to the campfire. Thankfully you had already been doing laundry. An old rusty cauldron was boiling water, leaking slightly from the large crack in its side. It made the fire spit and sizzle, embers dancing across the stones that line the pit. Still it worked, soap and lavender swirled together in a pleasant smelling mixture. Tossing the apron in, you quickly dipped your hands in the water, wincing at the boiling heat. The blood quickly slid from your skin, the frothing water turning pink for a moment and then turning back to the pale blue it had been.

“We got lucky with that enchanted soap.” Gale was leaning over the cauldron, one finger swirling through the air as he magically stirred the bubbling liquid. You hummed in response, plopping back down on the soft cushion pile with your sewing. Mending wasn’t exactly a skill you were confident in. But you weren’t in a talking mood and looking invested in the sock you held would deter another long winded lecture from Gale.

In truth, you were peeved. Astarion was on your last nerve and the shove only added to your growing irritation. He had been kind in the past few days, thoughtful even. The enchanted soap had been a find he had brought back for you. Dresses of varying colours and style, but all so soft. Taking the night watch and offering up his tent for you to use when he was away. Even kind comments about dinner. 

But with the kindness were odd and almost vicious moments. Snapping at Tav, making cruel comments to Shadowheart and Gale. Sometimes shepherding you from his tent with a curled lip and clipped comments. Astarion was prone to lashing out, as if to push everyone away with his barbed words. The soft then angry was too much some days. And today was no exception, the shove feeling like a final nail in the coffin.

“Will you be alright on your own?” Gale’s question broke you from your train of thought. You realized that you were scowling deeply and relaxed. It took you a moment to realize what he had asked, something about going out again. You shrugged and nodded. While Astarion might be sulking in his tent, you knew that if anything happened he’d come running. As ornery as he might feel today, he was a loyal companion to Tav. 

“We’ll be fine.” You let out a small sigh, “Maybe look for something new for dinner?”

Good food had a way of making moods better and perhaps it would pull Astarion from his funk. Although in truth, you had yet to see him eat. He seemed to prefer eating alone during his watch. 

“I always am.” Gale offered a cheeky grin, “Mine eyes doth seek the finer fare to grace your table my lady.” 

You laughed at his flirty tone, waving as he walked from the camp. For a moment you watched the brush he had disappeared into. A small part of you was curious as to what they saw out in the wilds.  It was a silly thought, here in camp was as close as you truly ever wanted to be to the unknown. You stretched, wincing as your shoulders popped. The day was warm, the bright sun beginning its slow descent to the Horizon. It felt peaceful. For a while, you watched as Scratch trotted about the camp, sniffing eagerly. He was on high alert, a typical habit for the large dog. He took his duty of keeping the camp safe seriously, especially when Tav was away.

“I should get dinner started.” You mused out loud, setting the mending aside. Scratch paused in his sniffing to offer you a huff of agreement. You smiled as he trotted to the far end of the amp. He was a funny dog and at times you swore he knew what you were saying.

Pulling the heavy laundry cauldron from the fire, you quickly set the cooking pot in its place. You let it sit, lugging the slowly cooling laundry cauldron to the makeshift line you had set up the previous day. It was a bit limp and was definitely blood stained. But it worked. You quickly rang out the various items of clothing and hung them to dry. With how the weather had been, you were hopeful the evening would stay warm enough to quickly dry the garments.

It was weird to be so domestic out in the middle of the woods. Laundry and cooking out here was barely different than in the city. Sure there was the lack of counter space and certain utensils. But rock slabs worked just as well and honestly, you could make do without the luxuries the city offered. There was a small part of you that was actually growing to prefer this quiet solace. Out here in the wilds, only the birds and squirrels interrupted your thoughts. There was no thick smoke of tobacco pipes, no yelled demands for more ale and best of all, no wandering hands. 

Making your way back to the campfire, you rummaged through the small basket you had left nearby. Wyll had managed to hunt a deer the previous day and while most of the meat had been eaten or dried, a few nice pieces remained. You tossed them in the boiling water, adding in a handful of salt and a few bay leaves. There wasn’t much else to do. Stew was the normal fare most nights, a relief given how little effort it took. Though sometimes you wished you had the means to make more refined dishes. The few nights you had been here, you had seen how poorly the group ate. Spending full days and at times nights fighting on little more than a hunk of cheese and bread. The stew was hearty, but it wasn’t enough. 

You stirred the pot, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought. They were all muscled but lean. Bodies honed from fighting but constantly burning energy that none of them had. And in Karlach’s case, burning her every cell, literally. At the inn you had the means to make meals that adventurers needed. Oatmeal with fresh fruit, Grilled fish with rice, Pasta, Whole Chickens and Chili. The list went on and on. Your own stomach growled at the thought and you grimaced. It had been weeks since you last had any fruit. 

Stirring the pot again, you sighed as you placed the makeshift lid on it. The thin and rather lumpy metal had previously been a small shield. It wasn’t the best lid, the arrow hole let steam out. But it was all you had for the time being. You stared at the pot for a moment, then shifted, looking at Astarion’s tent.

It was worryingly quiet. The man was naturally quiet, all rogues were. This was beyond that. You stared for a moment, chewing at your bottom lip nervously. Did he die?

You didn’t move, one hand picking at the soft sleeve of your dress. Part of you wanted to check on him. But a larger part of you didn’t want to get snapped at. Still, maybe he just passed out.

You walked carefully to his tent, pausing at the closed entrance. Hesitation threaded through your limbs and you stood awkwardly for a moment. Silence surrounded you for a second and then you heard it, a muffled and stuttering groan. It was barely audible and full of pain. You hesitated for another second and then opened the tent gently.

It was dark and the metallic tang of blood wafted forth. Scrunching your nose, you ducked inside, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the dark. The years of working at the inn’s bar had given your eyes plenty of practice for low light like this. The thin candles he had strewn haphazardly around the space flickered as the tent flap shut. 

“Astarion?” You uttered softly, taking a soft step forward. The growing dark felt oppressive in his tent. It was something you had noticed the first time you had stayed there. The thick fabric was a great feature for sleeping past dawn, but not helpful now that the light of day was waning.

It was enough however, for you to see the man curled in a ball on the cushion bed. The blankets seemed to be strewn about him, as well as his clothing. You tried not to look below his waist, unsure if he actually had underwear on.

“Astarion, should I get Shadowheart?” You asked softly, kneeling before the bed. It was a stupid offer, you had no idea where the group had scurried off to. At best you could send Scratch looking for them and even that you didn’t want to risk. Wyll had confirmed there was a pack of gnolls out there, one they were avoiding for the time being but would have to confront sooner or later. Scratch would be nothing more than a quick snack to those monsters.

Before you, the pale elf said nothing. He was so tightly curled in on himself, like a child. Hands over his face, knees pressed to his chest. It reminded you of the times you would rush to bed, tears on your cheeks after a scolding. But unlike when you were a child, with silent sobs shaking your frame, he was still. Unnaturally still.

Astarion wasn’t breathing. 

“Astarion?” You placed a hand on his shoulder, worry flooding every fiber of your being. His skin was so cold and your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. Gods above he’s dead. You felt frozen for a moment and then jumped as he shifted. 

Astarion lifted his head, ruby eyes ablaze as he glared at you. “Leave.”

The word was barely audible, more of a low hiss than anything else. And yet, it carried with it an unspoken threat. Words caught in your throat, your eyes traveling from his face to his chest, then back to his face. You sat stock still, hand frozen on his shoulder. A bead of sweat slipped down your spine and you shivered involuntarily. Despite his movement, his word, his glare, Astarion was still not breathing.

“You.” A pause as your heart rate increased and you felt the rest of the sentence stick in your throat. His glare had twisted slightly, turning into a look of irritated confusion. The man remained as still as death, ruby gaze sweeping over your face.

“You aren’t breathing.” The words fell like rocks from your lips. A tense silence filled the tent and suddenly, you felt as though you were sitting before a lion. Astarion slowly sat up, still not breathing, still staring. Hiz gaze was piercing, calculated. Almost cruel.

“Your human eyes fail you.” His voice was low but the tone was snide, carrying all the malice he could muster. But it wasn’t much, there was something else beneath the anger he was showing you.

Was he afraid? You weren’t sure. Perhaps it was the pain, while the wound had closed, you doubted the spell had fully healed him. You had seen many an idiot before, partying at the inn because their skin had sealed. Only to die in the night as their organs bleed inside. Still, it didn’t really explain his lack of breathing. If anything it made you more worried. 

“Should I get-.” You were cut off as he batted your hand from his shoulder, the pale elf’s expression turning to a snarl. His lips curled cruelly over his teeth, the white bone catching the low flickering light of the candles.

“Are you deaf or just stupid? I said leave.” The words were sharp, slicing through the air and into your heart. He was shifting, moving further into the shadow and away from you. Silence descended again and you sat stock still. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to listen to him. Every cell in your body was screaming for you to leave. To flee from the monster before you.

Because that's what he was.

Your gut feelings from just days before were correct. He was a vampire. The pale complexion, red eyes, lack of breathing and fangs. They had caught in the dim light as he snarled. White, sharp and utterly terrifying.

And yet. Beneath the fear, beneath your cells screaming for you to run, pity bloomed. Winding up through your veins and twisting through your heart like a knife. Because he was cowering. Pressed against the back of the tent, all but hidden in the shadows. Limbs pressed close to his torso. What little you could see of his face was twisted. A mask of anger that barely hid the fear beneath.

“Do.” You paused, heart in your throat. An offer sat on the back of your tongue. A stupid offer that you were terrified to voice. But the pity in your heart twisted so.

“Do you need blood?” The question was spoken so softly that you were sure even with his elevated hearing, he didn’t catch it. But he did, pure confusion rippling across his face. It was quickly eclipsed by rage, his brow furrowing and mouth curling into a scowl.

“What?” He spat out and you flinched as he surged forward. Astarion was in your face now, his own mere inches from yours. His eyes searched your face and by the twitch of his lips, you could tell he wasn’t pleased.

You were a stranger. One who had figured out his secret and now out of pity was offering him something so intimate so freely. 

You weren’t ignorant of what vampires were. They were some of the few monsters that you actually worried about in Baulder’s Gate. Astarion might’ve fooled the rest by somehow walking in daylight, but the signs were all there.

Handsome and Beautiful people. Unnaturally so. With silver tongues and butterfly caresses. Luring you in with their body and voice, only to strike when in the deepest shadows. You had rolled your eyes when your father had told you about them so many moons ago. But he was right.

“Get. OUT.” The man spat. He stood in a flurry of motion, easily catching your upper arm and dragging you from the tent. You landed outside with a small gasp, wincing as your wrist caught the full weight of the fall. 

That night, he didn’t reappear. You sat by the fire, clumsily adding to the stew. The fall had injured your wrist and you held it to your chest as you attempted to cook with your non-dominant hand. You didn't feel the pain, an odd numbness filling every fiber of your being. It wouldn’t have mattered if you did, save for Scratch the camp was empty. An injured wrist was truly the last of your worries. 

Now you sat, dully poking the fire and wondering. Waiting for the claw to strike. For the vampire to hurtle out of his tent and swallow you whole. But it never came, the camp was silent and for the first time, you felt unwelcome. You had become an intruder.

It wasn’t until the moon was high in the sky that Tav and the others returned. Joyous in their victories and half of them drunk on ale they had pilfered. You watched quietly from the sidelines. Trying not to intrude and trying not to look towards Astarion’s tent.

It was Lae’zel who first noticed your odd stance. Spoon halfway to her mouth, she suddenly scowled. The gith woman stood, marching over and grabbed your arm. You yelped in response, the bolt of pain ripping past the numbness. The fog you had been in lifted and you shuddered, trying not to give into the urge to cry.

“Broken. Tch.” Her glower was intense and you found yourself shrinking beneath it. The words had Shadowheart and Gale at your side. Both were tipsy, swaying slightly as they fussed over you like a pair of mother hens. Between the two of them, the bone was healed, but the nasty bruising remained. You assured them it was fine, noting how pale the entire group was. They were all wearing themselves thin.

The food seemed to help, as well as more alcohol. By the time they all stumbled off to bed, the cauldron was empty and there were at least 15 empty bottles of wine strewn about. You watched them silently. Despite the hardship of their journey, they were all so cheerful when it was time to relax. As if once they were in camp, the outside world ceased to exist. 

“Hi boy.” You spoke as softly as you could, not wanting to wake anyone. The dog had mostly stuck by your side since you had been tossed from Astarion’s tent. Scratch huffed, sitting as you threw one of the extra bedrolls down. There was an unused tent of sorts right by the river. Tav used the large rock it covered to store extra books. The small space was packed, but there was a sliver of space between rocks. Just enough for the bedroll, you and Scratch. 

The ground was lumpy and cold. The bedroll smelled of sweat and blood. But Scratch was soft and warm. He nestled against your front, shoving his cold nose against your neck. Somehow, he felt more like home than anything else had. You tried not to cry as sleep overtook you. 

“You want to leave?” Tav sounded absolutely devastated. You nodded, watching as the jelly on their toast dripped across their shin-guards. The request had clearly taken them off guard, the adventurer looking about ready to cry.

“Did I do something wrong?” The question was almost childlike in its directness. You quickly shook your head, assuring Tav that they had been wonderful. It had been two very tense days since Astarion had thrown you from his tent. While no one seemed the wiser about your little tiff, it hung between the two of you like a cloud. He was out a lot more frequently, practically Tav’s shadow at this point. And while it was unspoken, you were no longer welcome in his tent. 

You couldn’t blame him. He didn’t trust you and you knew his secret. 

Knew what he ws. What he could do.

“I-I uh. Shit. Damn.” Tav was sputtering, glancing about as if searching for something to keep you. Their actions caught Karlach’s attention and she was quick to join the conversation. You smiled softly as she neared, the warmth from her skin washing over you like a miniature sun.

“Everything alright soldier?” Her cheerful demeanor was quick to fade as Tav blurted out your request. Like the camp leader, she looked devastated. She moved to touch you, then stopped, one burning hand hovering awkwardly over your own.

“Gods, no. What did we do?” Like Tav she immediately assumed that somehow you were unhappy with them. You weren’t, far from it, the camp had been incredibly welcoming. But now, you just couldn’t stay. 

You opened your mouth to respond and froze. A sickly sweet, yet acrid and burning smell flooded the camp. Entirely unnatural, it made your skin crawl and stomach churn. While you swayed trying to not vomit, Tav and Karlach turned on their heels, almost immediately leaping towards the source. A Devil.  

You shuddered, stepping backwards as the rather grand looking devil appeared. She had massive wings and a smirk that told you she was pissed. The smell of fire filled the entire camp and you shuddered, knowing that she was acutely aware of everyone watching. Beside you Scratch whined, the dog pressing against you, his small body shaking. You felt his terror and then some, your heart pounding in your chest as the air in the camp went still. Everyone was standing stock still. Lae’zel had one hand on her battle ax, lips pulled back in a silent snarl. Shadowheart was close to her, fists clenched as she glared at the she-devil. Astarion lurked in the shadows near his tent, crouched as if to lunge. Yet none of them moved, as frozen as you were in the presence of the leering woman.

A warm hand gently slid around your waist, tugging you into the shadows. Gale . He stood behind you, holding his staff at the ready in a white knuckled grip. You pressed against the wizard, unable to stop yourself from shaking. 

Devils were something you had only heard about through hushed whispers. Even your own father, not one for gossip, would sit down to hear whatever tale was being spun. Whispered stories ranged from bards tricking lesser devils, to the true evils of major devils. Regardless, the outcome was almost always the same. No one truly ever won against a Devil and sooner or later, they would find themselves in the curled claws of a hellish eternity. Don’t take a deal from a Devil, for the price is always more than one can pay. A cleric had once told you that, battle worn and missing an eye. She had tapped the empty socket with one finger, her expression both melancholy and resigned.

Wyll had joined Tav and Karlach and even from a distance, you could tell he was upset. A tense conversation played out, their voices not quite making it to you. But whatever was being said, both parties seemed displeased. The devil tilted her head back to laugh, her cruel gaze sweeping across the camp. She raised a hand, a rather smug smile gracing her lips. You felt Gale tense beside you, the staff in his hands humming quietly with whatever spell was sitting on the tip of his tongue. The devil flicked her wrist and Wyll was engulfed in flames.

You couldn’t stifle the cry that left you, hands quickly pressing to your lips in horror. Gale’s hand was on your shoulder now, pulling you closer as he shifted into a defensive pose. Across the camp you could see Shadowheart dive for Lae’zel, preventing the gith woman from lunging forward. They too looked on in horror at the dancing flames.

The Devil didn’t move towards anyone else, watching smugly as the flames danced over Wyll. He was being consumed. Agony of the hells pouring over his flesh with a hunger beyond this realm. And yet, as quickly as they appeared, the flames dissipated. Wyll stood, skin looking untouched. But he was changed. Even from across the camp, you could see the great horns that now protruded from his skull.

The Devil vanished with a laugh and the camp was plunged into silence. Tav approached Wyll, laying a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. Karlach raised a hand and then dropped it, her posture slouching slightly. 

“Gods above.” Gale’s tone was hushed and you glanced at him. Sadness and a hint of admonishment. Your look must have shown your confusion, the man offering a sigh.

“Wyll’s unfortunate change must be a punishment for pact breaking.”

He shook his head, moving back towards his tent. You chewed at the inside of your cheek, not sure you wanted to know more. Warlocks were common enough in the city, though they tended to keep to themselves. The few who had been open about what they practiced had all been nice. And good tippers. Good people sometimes have to do awful things to protect that which they care for. Something your mother had always murmured when you were younger. You hadn’t realized Wyll was a warlock, but it didn’t matter. Regardless of his patron, he was a good man.

As Tav and the others departed, you approached Wyll. Your friend looked downtrodden, holding his head in his hands.

“Come to ogle me my friend?” His voice was soft, carrying hints of such a deep sadness. You felt for him, a brave warrior, turning devilish in appearance had to be torture. Although, it was the Wyll you knew staring back at you. Sure he had a pitch black sclera and blood red iris to go with the horns. But it was the same Wyll, just a little more sad.

“No. Just came to see if you needed someone to lean on.” You kept your tone even, trying not to let your eyes wander. He offered you a soft smile and a shrug. 

“Appreciated my friend.” Wyll looked at the sky, then the dark woods surrounding the camp. “However right now, I think I need time to myself. To think.”

You nodded, offering him a soft goodbye as you did so. As you turned from him, you caught Astarion’s gaze from across the camp. His expression was unreadable and you were quick to scurry away. Not wanting to see his disgust.

Four more days passed by. You didn’t bring up the thought of leaving again. The nights felt longer and colder. Luckily your exposed sleeping spot had been remedied, you had taken to sharing a tent with Gale. Calling it a tent was an understatement. The man had some sort of enchantment placed in the small space. On the outside it was a sad little blue affair, while on the inside, it was a small house. There was no kitchen or bathroom, just three different rooms. One was Gale’s room and the other two filled to the brim with old books.

‘A trick I learned in my studies.’ Was all the explanation you got. You liked it, despite the odd chill of magic that seemed to slide over your skin whenever you entered the tent. You had a warm space away from the rain. And away from Astarion’s looks. 

Four days and you still felt out of place. Wyll had become withdrawn, Tav was always out and Astarion was always fucking staring. Karlach was still easy to talk to, which was nice when she was at the camp. But she rarely was and that paired with the fact that Shadowheart and Lae’zel were unapproachable, you had very little conversation. There was the strange, incredibly dead man who had silently joined the camp. Withers or so he said. While you felt comfortable around the decrepit being, Withers wasn’t one for talking.

“I have nothing for thou. All though thee carry a strange fate in these wilds.” It was the most he would say to you and made absolutely no sense. Tav had shrugged when you brought it up, laughing at the odd saying.

“How do you feel about a party?” Tav’s sudden voice over your left shoulder, tearing you from your thoughts and making you jump. Nearly dropping the knife you had been holding, you turned looking at them inquisitively. Party wasn’t a word you expected to hear out in the wilds. You glanced around the camp and then back to Tav. 

“Like, to celebrate?” You asked hesitantly. Tav nodded eagerly, a huge smile spreading across their face. They clapped you on the shoulders and let out a laugh.

“We are SO close to finding Halsin and settling the shit at the grove.”

Your eyebrows raised at that and you fully turned. “Wait, Halsin's alive?!” 

You couldn’t hide the excitement in your voice. Setting aside what you were doing, you gave Tav your full attention. Tav was eager to share, their smile never leaving their face. Finally, after days of sitting idly at the camp, you were getting a clearer picture. Zevlor and Kagha both asked for assistance in their own ways. Tav went a third way and was plotting to take down the goblins that were the source of the issue. Halsin was being held captive, his disappearance the work of the goblin leaders. Your heart twisted at the information they gave you. It sounded like a big fight. There were three leaders within the goblin camp and from what Tav had gathered, they were each their own set of trouble.

“A party sounds nice.” You smiled, feeling a swell of happiness. Tav clapped your shoulder once more before striding off to the other end of the camp. 

The day passed quickly and at night you found yourself totally alone. The moon was high overhead, a mere sliver against the inky night sky. Even the stars seemed to be hiding. The pervasive darkness had you worrying for the group. Everyone had left the camp, armed to the teeth. Tav had promised you they would all be back, a light hearted grin following their words. You wanted to believe them and yet, anxiety chewed at your insides. Scratch was just as uneasy, whining anytime you strayed too far from the campfire. The forest seemed darker and yet so quiet. It had your hair standing on end.

“It’s ok Scratch.” You murmured, petting his head as the dog paced past you. He huffed, finally lying next to you. Patting him gently, you turned back to the fire, drawing your blanket tighter around you. Gale’s tent was a few yards away, well lit and warm. Yet you didn’t want to walk over there, not while you were alone.

Ok alone was not true. Withers was standing in his same spot on the gravel beach. Tonight he was reading, at least you thought he was. That part of the camp wasn’t well lit and most nights the old being was merely another shadow on the edge of camp. You doubted Mr. Skin and bones would rush to your aid if anything infiltrated the camp. 

The underbrush rustled and you tensed. Scratch lifted his head, a low growl emanating from his throat. For a moment the forest fell silent again. You were tense, one hand curling around the kitchen knife you kept close. The brush rustled again and to your utter shock, a small bear slowly limped out. No, not a bear. An owlbear cub. 

You froze, breath catching in your throat as your eyes scanned the dark forest. It was silent and still, no sign of the mother owlbear. Scratch slowly stood, walking to the cub. They sniffed each other, the cub letting out a small hoot. You watched as some sort of unspoken exchange passed between them, both animals relaxing. They looked at you then, Scratch letting out a small bark. He nudged the owlbear’s paw and you frowned as your gaze shifted down. Something had attacked the cub.

Was he orphaned? You felt bad for the little creature. Standing, you cautiously approach the creature. Your gaze kept flicking from the small creature to the dark woods, expecting its mother to come barreling into the camp. But the tree line stayed still and quiet. Kneeling before it, you squinted at its paw. Shallow slashes in its flesh, but nothing too bad. The owlbear allowed you to wrap its wound, chittering and hooting the entire time. It didn’t seem to mind your shaking hands or nervous breathing. Scratch sat beside it, eyes going between the cub and you. He even attempted to lick the cub and ended up with a mouthful of feathers. You let out a small laugh at the action, tugging a feather free from the dog’s mouth.

“Are you hungry?” You asked as you stepped back from the pair. The owlbear tilted its head and then hooted in response. You laughed, knowing full well it didn’t understand you, but appreciating its input. 

Walking back to the campfire, you dug around the supply bin. Owlbears were creatures of stories for you. All of which involved either the creature mauling adventurers or being killed by them. No stories on what they ate past the ruminations that it was a diet of goblins that made them so vicious. It was a doubtful tale, goblins had to taste awful, not to mention sharp on the way down. You figured that regular meat was a good guess.

Digging out an unidentifiable cut of meat, you unwrapped it, laying it before the creature. The cub trilled excitedly as it tucked in. You watched, fascinated as it shredded the hunk quickly. Despite looking cute, it had a deadly sharp beak. 

The cub made quick work of the meat, looking around unsure as it licked its beak. You smiled at the owlbear, shifting to offer a corner of the blanket to it. There was a pause, the cub looking at Scratch as if to ask if it was ok. Something passed between the two and the owlbear flopped onto the blanket with a huff. 

“You’ve been hungry and tired huh?” You murmured quietly, softly petting the creature. It trilled softly, big eyes closing as it relaxed. Scratch flopped on its otherside, the dog letting out a huff.

“Aw, you’ve been good too.” You laughed softly, fishing a chunk of salami out for the dog. He took it excitedly, licking your hand in thanks before settling back down.

Silence fell again, but this time, it felt less threatening. You found your eyelids becoming heavy as you slipped into an uneasy sleep. No dreams found you, just a warm darkness filled with a current of unease.

When you awoke, it was to hushed conversation. You yawned, blearily rubbing your eyes. Somehow you had gone from sitting to using the owlbear cub as a pillow. Sitting up, you smiled as it let out a little snore, the small creature still sleeping peacefully. You started as you realized Tav and the others sat around the camp fire. They had returned with the sun it seemed and had quietly sat to nurse their wounds. You stood, carefully wrapping the blanket over the cub and Scratch.

The group looked barely awake, covered in bruises and blood. Gale and Shadowheart were trying their best to heal the party, but you could tell they were both on their last leg. Exhaustion clung deeply to each of them.

“Who wants breakfast?” You offered softly, rubbing your arms to stave off the morning chill.

“FUCK yes.” Karlach groaned, peeling her breastplate off and tossing it towards her tent. Lae’zel grunted in agreement, her hands swiftly sewing a gash in her leg shut. She waived off Gale as he approached, hissing for him to tend to the weaker. 

“Eggs and bacon?” You fished through the basket and smiled as you found a loaf of bread. “I can do toast as well?”

Shadowheart offered you a smile from across the fire. “That sounds lovely, thank you.”

You flushed and smiled back at her. It was the first time she had been friendly towards you. Quietly, you got to work, the camp quickly filling with the smell of a fresh breakfast.

As you doled out food, the group became more lively. The food seemed to be helping everyone. Well, almost everyone. You noted that Astarion didn’t reach for a plate, his posture slumped and defeated. He caught your eye and you tensed, expecting a nasty look or barbed word. Instead he merely looked away, a look of shame briefly crossing his face. No one else seemed to notice and you wondered if he had told any of them his secret. You doubted it. Both Shadowheart and Lae’zel seemed like the type to kill first and ask questions later. Tav and the others might be safe enough to tell. But still, a secret like his was akin to a death sentence for most.

What a lonely lot in life. You mused, offering the cub and Scratch a plate of their own. The sleepy animals downed it quickly, excited hoots mixing with the dull murmur of conversation. 

“Thank you.” Tav stood and stretched, wincing as the action tugged on their wounds. You just nodded, offering them another plate. They took it and then paused.

“I mean it. I think your meals have been keeping us alive.” Tav’s voice was full of sincerity and you felt a blush creep across your cheeks as Wyll and Karlach added in their own thanks.

“Good food does do wonders when one spends all day casting.” Gale added cheerfully, raising his plate in a toast of sorts. 

“Agreed.” Lae’zel huffed, “Adequate meals make for strong soldiers.” 

You smiled and raised a teasing eyebrow in Tav’s direction. “Is this buttering up to get me to stay? If so, it's working.”

The leader laughed heartily around a mouthful of bacon. They nodded eagerly, gesturing wildly to the rest of the group.

“Quick, shower our little chef with compliments! I need good food if we’re to keep going.”

You laughed as they all chimed in, waving off the rather ridiculous comments. Karlach’s ‘I will eat dirt without you’ and Gale’s ‘I will literally eat boots.’ had you doubled over, wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You smiled at the group. Tav let out a whoop and beside you, the owlbear cub let out an echoing hoot. Your smile slipped slightly and you sighed. 

“But I need to know more. Each day you come back more injured and exhausted.” You crossed your arms, trying not to let your anxiety show. Here in camp you were on the very outskirts of whatever was happening. You knew it was larger than just some goblin raiders and a missing druid. Tav went out each morning as if the very fate of the world was in their hands. Their shoulders constantly bowed by a weight that the entire camp seemed to share.

Tav sighed, glancing at the others. There was an odd silent moment, Gale pressing a hand to one eye, Shadowheart rubbing her forehead and Astarion grimacing. Whatever it was passed and Tav nodded.

“Alright, you might want to sit down. It’s a lot.” 

[sorceresssundries]

Janet from HR's Banter/Dialogue

Thank you for the asks around Janet's party banter! There were a few crossovers, so instead of doing separate responses i'll put them all here and tag the people who asked about it!

There were a few, so i'll put them under the cut!

Thanks @mumms-the-word @lanafofana @residentdormouse and @briwhosaysni ! <3

If you'd like to do this for your Tav, the link is here!

2. Spam clicking on them too many times Stop it! Before I make an official complaint. 

3. Directing them to attack/move in combat Fine, but after this I want a glass of wine and a lie down.

4. Hiding/sneaking/hidden movement Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious… 

5. Taking a short rest Time for a nap and a cry. Then back to it.

6. Low health/asking for healing Just leave me to die actually, i’m so sick of this.

13. Picking a lock Good job I've got a messy bun full of bobby pins.

12. Encountering a locked door No way through, can we go home now?

14. Looking at a Globe I’m taking a fucking holiday when this is all over. I need a tan, a mojito, and a dirty book. 

17. Looking in a mirror Fucking hell. Has anyone got any concealer?

19. Noticing a trap Don’t you lot have fucking magic elf vision or something? How come i’m the only one to spot that very obvious trap.

20. Can’t fit into a small hole Nah, sorry love. Not without a whole lot of lube.

26. Party banter with Gale

Gale: It is in the aftermath of battle, when the haze of the Weave lingers from the sparks of magic, that the memory of Mystra’s embrace feels most vivid. It's as if she’s still guiding my hands, her presence intertwined with every thread of magic I spin. 

Janet: I’m not gonna lie man, she sounds like a real bitch. 

28. Party banter with Karlach

Janet: You know, my ex didn’t have a heart either

Karlach: What?! That’s awful! Gods, soldier - i’m so sorry. That must have been really tough for you. Did he get sent to the blood war too?

Janet: Oh.. no.. I meant… Never mind. Thanks Karlach.

32. Party banter with Jaheira

Janet: Hey babe, my friend Shannon does my botox and she’d work wonders on you.

Jaheira: *glares* She would approach me with a needle? Does this Shannon value her life? 

Janet: Not really, she’s a pisces. 

34. Party banter with Minsc

Janet: I got my kids a hamster once

Minsc: Ah! Then you must know what tough and wise companions they make!

Janet: I accidentally sucked it up in the hoover after a week. They’re not that tough

[juni-aldaine123]

A PROMISE OF PROTECTION/ snf ; himfri

・❥・fluff . light angst . oneshot . nightmares . comforting . reassurance . cuddling . frieren looks after himmel . based on a dialogue prompt

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

The night is long and cold, and just as unforgiving despite the years, as Frieren remembers. The fire rumbles and crackles when she adds another branch to the charred remains sitting at the base. She is the first one to be on lookout for tonight, for there are monsters that meander the vales of the Northern Plateau. They even had difficulty setting up a camp tonight for they had to battle the ferocious Abyssal Dragon that had impeded their journey and locate a safe spot to spend the dark hours of night in peace.

Though it was long and odious their conflict with the dragon ended with them being victors. But they didn't win without a few spoils of war after all.

Why, their injuries and the scars they bear now are their rewards! Frieren still thinks it was rather pointless to accost the beast head on when they could've taken the easy and safe path through the woods. But needless to say- Himmel the Hero likes a challenge and is known not to back down when presented with one.

"Being an adventurer comes with its own set of dangers," he often reminds her whenever she asks.

"Besides, now people can traverse these roads without hesitance," he happily told her when she sat beside him by the campfire.

Well, that is what it means to be a hero after all, helping people along the way.

But who helps the hero when he is in need?

Frieren can see Himmel's discomfort from where she sits quite clearly, but she thinks she might not have noticed at she not been looking at him; he makes not a sound as he writhes in pain. He bites his lips and keeps his tears at bay but the elf can see him struggling.

'A nightmare...' So even Hero Himmel isn't exempt from such trivial distress.

She moves to sit by his side and attend to him, holding his hand in her hands and playing with his fingers like he does for her whenever she falls ill.

"Even now...you would rather suffer in silence than ask us for help?" she asks the sleeping man and then roams her gaze over their two unassuming companions snoring away peacefully. Perhaps it is for the best. Surely Heiter and Eisen would've noticed too and they been keeping watch now. Heiter might've even done a better job than her at comforting Himmel and she's not too sure about what Eisen would've done. But she's the only one awake and must do what is to be done to arouse Himmel from his nightmare.

Heiter had once told her how to deal with one. Though it had only been in theory.

Frieren hopes it works on Himmel.

"It's alright Himmel. You're safe. We're safe. What you're seeing isn't true," she whispers in a monotone. But then she gently pulls his head in her lap, like he does for her whenever she claims to take a nap, cradling him like a child. She frees one of her hands and runs her fingers through his hair hoping to ease his pain.

"I'm here Himmel. Frieren is here. Right by your side." And as if her name were a magical spell, all signs of hurt vanish from his body when Himmel hears her and he falls limp in her hold, visibly relaxing. Frieren lets out a small smile, happy to have helped her hero, happy to realise he feels safe from a now fading nightmare.

"I'll always keep you safe Himmel." Lips trembling she breaks out an amused huff when Himmel turns his head and starts to nuzzle his face against her stomach. "Nothing can hurt you when I’m here," she promises and for the remaining night as she watches over their party her hold on his hand doesn't loosen, her embrace doesn't quiver and her fingers don't stop fluttering against his forehead and blue silken locks.

When Eisen wakes up to take over her shift she simply presses a finger to her lips when she sees him open his mouth to question her and then points at his mattress, urging him to close his eyes once again and to allow her to handle this. The warrior understands her well enough and goes back to sleep.

Come morning Himmel is the first one to wake up and find himself looking up at the sleeping face of Frieren.

And he can't help but love her more.

"Thank you Frieren," he calls to the cool dewy breeze.

[embers-of-song-agere]

OMG ROX :33 you should totally tell me your regressor venti headcannons :3c

LITTLE!VENTI HEADCANONS: THE ULTIMATE POST!

(I'm so sane about little venti is not even funny /pos so ty moot)

-His main carers are a multitude of people. Those people being Paimon and Aether, Adelinde and Diluc, or just Zhongli! Sometimes Jean too, but it depends if she's busy or not.

-Main headspace is around 1-4, but can be younger or older due to stress. If he's regressing around people he knows and feels comfortable with, he'll usually be older.

-due to injuries from the archon war, he has to be padded 24/7. Only his cg's know, and his doctor (Dr. Baizhu.)

-Favourite foods include anything, really. Apples specifically, but he doesn't really like apple juice, so he tends to gravitate to sunsettia juice or some type of flavoured milk (chocolate, strawberry, ect).

-will just bite on anyone and anything. He'll just teethe on his cg's fingers if given the chance, but he will NOT take teethers.

-has a few stuffies:

one being a dove stuffie, which helped him during his very first few regression sessions (although he didn't even know what regression was at the time)

-another stuffie is an otter, from Fontaine! Gifted by the traveller and Venti instantly fell in love and named him "elf" and he has a small bell in his chest, and Venti loves him.

-the third and final stuffie is a stuffed animal of morax, and he bought him after Zhongli faked his death (I headcanon that Venti wasn't told by Zhongli about the whole retirement thing and he thought he was dead for like, three months.)

-he had no idea that he was a regressor, and he was really confused why he was attached to blankets and stuffies animals until Diluc explained regression to him and offered to give him gear (pacifier, bottle, ect) and he was like "diluc wtf is this stuff"

-will often stomp and whine when he doesn't get his way (no naptime, his main cg isn't around, he has to take meds or needs a change, ect).

-LITERALLY as light as a feather. He's the god of wind, so he doesn't really weigh much, so it's really easy for any CG to scoop the baby up </3

-will often hold his cg's fingers to make himself feel more "kid-like"

-nightmares about archon war and Decarabian's revolt, and he 100% suffers from PTSD, but since he started regressing and letting himself be happy, he's found himself suffering less.

-his otter stuffie, wisp goes everywhere with him, big or small.

-puzzle baby!!! He can solve kids puzzles easily and he loves it.

-purrs and chirps like a cat. Since he was a wisp, he retains some of the characteristics from that time!

-SPEAKING OF WISP...he 100% slips into his wisp for to just headbutt into his cg's and just...warble and babble. Sometime he'll nest in his cg's pockets and nap.

[officialleehadan]

Pack Swiftly

Hello darlings! Today's story was brought to you by Zingowner! Darling, thank you so much for all your support!

Prompt: Forest Fell

+++

Something had gone badly wrong, and nobody was telling Elarria what had happened.

It wasn’t her father. It wasn’t Yalla. It wasn’t her.

It could only be Felmarin.

He wasn’t dead. She would know about that already. Kithali and the bodyguards he hired would have certainly told her if her Elvish lover was dead. They would know before almost anyone else and they wouldn’t keep secrets from her. Felmarin also couldn’t be well either. He hadn’t sent word, through Kithali or anyone else, and had not appeared as he always did for lunch. He was busy, but he never missed a meal with her and Yalla.

And he had not appeared himself.

It was time to take action.

“At my side,” she told the two assassins who were assigned to her protection. She caught the eye of the four assigned to Yalla. Her sister was napping for now, and was entirely enamored with her new playmates. She would be safe while Elarria handled things. “Stay with her. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Yes, Princess,” they agreed, bound now by fondness as much as the oaths Kithali took of them when he hired them. Elarria nodded once, and made for the door. It was time to get some answers.

Her first stop was Kithali’s office.

“What happened?” she asked without preamble and took a seat across from the startled spy. He was a good ally, and one she was glad to have, but she wasn’t about to let him keep information from her, particularly when it had to do with the elf-king. She needed Felmarin, both as an alliance and as the one she was rapidly falling in love with, and she wasn’t about to let him go without a fight. “Where is Felmarin?”

“Only took you three hours to notice. Faster than even my most pessimistic guess. I commend you,” Kithali said. There were stress-lines around his eyes, and he was tense all over. Whatever it was, it was worse than Elarria feared. “What gave it away?”

“He always eats with us in the afternoon,” Elarria said and fixed him with her best glare. It didn’t phase him much, but it made her feel better. “The few times he was going to miss a meal, he stopped in before, or after, to tell me why. His absence speaks louder than any words. Now stop dodging the question.”

“We don’t know,” Kithali told her, more honest than she expected, given everything. Telling the truth did not come naturally to Kithali. “The last time anyone saw him, he was heading out into the gardens. There are signs of a fight, and blood, which the healers say is his. He probably killed at least one of his attackers. There’s a good deal of blood that isn’t his, although they took their wounded, or dead, with them. They had at least one mage. He’s good enough at green magic to handle a few attackers, but he’s not a battle mage.”

“And where is he now?” Elarria asked as she swallowed down the icy fear that sank through her throat into her stomach. Alive was better than dead, but if they took him, whoever they were, Felmarin was in far more danger than she feared. “Is there any word?”

“None,” Kithali said grimly. He poured a cup of tea for her, added a healthy dash of brandy from his flask, and handed it over. “Watch out, that kicks like a mule, but it will steady your nerves. It hasn’t been long enough for demands, yet, if we’re going to get any.”

There was, unspoken, the worry that there would be no demands. That Felmarin was taken for other purposes. The blood of a king was valuable, and whoever was working to build the war between their kingdoms might simply want the tensions to rise beyond control. Felmarin was the only one holding back the elves from sheer madness on the battlefield. If he was murdered as their Magician Queen was, the war would blaze far out of control.

“Time is short, then,” she said to herself, fingers tight around the cup that warmed her palms. “We have to find him before they kill him, or go to ground. What do we know?”

“Almost nothing beyond what I’ve told you,” Kithali said, although it was clear he was angered by the admission. “They were good. Very good.”

“And the assassins we’ve hired know nothing?”

“Nothing useful.”

Elarria looked down into her tea, and then drank it in a single long gulp. It burned, from heat and the brandy, and she welcomed the pain.

“There’s a human trick,” she said when the burn faded and she felt less like crying. There would be time for tears. Now was not the time. “But I imagine Elvish mages can do it too. If there was a battle mage, they left some of their magic around, yes? It lingers for at least a day, as I remember.”

“It can, why?”

“If one of our mages can gather it, or Felmarin’s, up into a crystal, can we use that to track them? My tutors said magic calls to magic.”

It was vague, but she didn’t have anything better to offer. She wasn’t a mage, or a warrior. She wasn’t even a monarch. She was a princess, and a hostage.

But she loved Felmarin, and she wouldn’t give up on him without a fight. They had time, she hoped. Not much but some.

“We can try it,” Kithali said slowly. He was no more mage than she was, but he knew more about magic. More importantly, he could give orders to the castle mages, and she couldn’t. “I’ve never heard of it being done, but at this point, any lead that gets us closer is more than we have. Go back to your rooms for now. I’ll be by as soon as I have the mages working on it.”

“What should I do there? I hate being useless.”

“You pack what you and Yalla need,” Kithali told her with a dark glint in his eyes that spoke of greater worries. “If they can take his Majesty, they can reach you both, and without his protection, the council will turn on you. My duty is to make sure neither of those things happen. Go on, and be swift. We leave within the hour.”

+++

Forest Fell: (FULL COLLECTION)

Oath and Offer

Enemy Met  (Subscriber Only!)

Plan of Kings

Smoke and Chaos  (Subscriber Only!)

Flash Steel

The Moon in her Hair

Healer King (Subscriber Only!)

Fighting Chance

Spy Home (Subscriber Only!)

Old Liar

Name your Price (Subscriber Only!)

Shine Within (Subscriber Only!)

Armies Crossing Crossed (Subscriber Only!)

Unknown Power

Waking Specialties

Stolen Moment

Before the Council

Blood Oathed (Subscriber Only!)

Entangling Vines

Pack Swiftly (NEW!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[modern-inheritance]

Rough Day (MIC Chat)

(I'd love to turn this into a short but I think I'd get caught up in descibing Saphira's thought process and miss out/go another direction) Sometime during The War, in the limbo of timeline hell. Saphira: *doing a bit of a wander around 'her' portion of the far more sparsely tented side of camp* Saphira: *stops, midstride, pulls back a bit and looks down* ??? Arya: *laying facedown on the ground in some tall grass and strong sunlight* Arya: ... Arya: *muffled, sounding very tired, never lifting her head* Hey Saphira. Saphira: Having a nap, or a breakdown? Arya: Very astute of you. Yes. Arya: I have had...I have had a very...very rough day. Wait, what day is it? Saphira: Solas Rest. Arya: Oh. ...I've had a very rough three days. Saphira: Are you well? Physically? Do you need me to get Eragon or Glen? Arya: No, thanks. I'm good here, just...just going to gather my thoughts. Connect with nature. Eat some dirt. Saphira: ...If you're sure. Arya: Yep. Saphira: *pauses again* Saphira: *gently takes the back of Arya's combat jacket in her first few front teeth, drags her kitten style over to a shaded patch of grass and deposits her there* Arya: Thank you. Saphira: You have picked a nice spot for a breakdown-nap. I shall join you. Arya: Aw, thanks. And Saphira just sorta proceeded to half nap half defend this dumbass elf having multiple in-the-field Recall episodes. Chatting with her between them like 'so, what's new with Yaela, she's been rather smitten with that auburn haired smith that's got his forge set beside Horst's.' 'The downdrafts have been particularly fierce, there's rain coming soon.' 'I think Eragon needs to get more cardio. Should I chase him?'

Iunno I want these two to be friends really bad. In MIC, it's not shown quite as much yet, but Saphira's a little on the fence about Arya when they first start traveling after Gil'ead. Even though she recognizes her mind, there's this unsettling feeling about her (likely, I think, from the high levels of 'dragonblood' Arya has and her just being so different and dangerous from anyone else they've interacted with so far) and Saphira does take some time to completely trust Arya with Eragon, taking even longer to fully accept that Arya's there to protect her as well. Eventually they do become really good friends, bonding over battlejoy and protecting Eragon's dumb ass and Saphira does realize the lengths Arya's going to go to keep them both safe after the Star Sapphire incident.

And while Saphira never really understands the results of Gil'ead on Arya's mind, she understands pain, she understands some of it from Eragon's later PTSD manifesting, and she also recognizes the more animalistic side Arya (and other elves, though they prefer to tamp it down) displays when she gets distressed. Saphira knows an injured dragon can and will lash out, understands how much more stress it puts on them when others see them vulnerable. So Saphira treats Arya more like a very small, very scaleless dragonling. She's welcomed in to the Thunder, if you will. They're both the odd women out, and sometimes it's just nice to sit together and shake their heads at the men and boys and share knowing looks. ...even though half the time they don't know what exactly they're saying with their eyes, they just know it's the same thing.

I am...not making sense. Friends. I want them to be friends.

[greyias]

So, I promised @captainderyn pictures of my old lady elf in LOTRO, although this is like several months later after the big expansion/prelaunch sale weekend when I rolled her up, because I get easily distracted.

Her name is Anariel, a High Elf who was one of the veeeeery first elves to travel to Middle Earth, so there is a small chance she is actually older than dirt because of this. Anyway, she's a war veteran who was once upon a time, so badass she saved Thranduil from giant spiders, rode with Gil-Galad, and routinely just did everything it seemed on the battlefield in the Second Age*. Then she got oopsie stabbed by a Nazgul, and sort of took a three thousand year nap and lost 100 in-game levels???

As you do.

And then she wakes up and Elrond is all "o hai, you slept so long that you forgot how to walk so here's a butter knife to defend yourself** ", and then hands you a "Third Age for Dummies" book because she slept through an entire era and tells his sons to take grandma to the bus stop so she doesn't miss her boat to the Elvish retirement home.

* - This opening sequence actually was pretty nifty to play when I did, as I'd just finished watching the ROP finale, and really played into the feels for all of the characters introduced in that show.

** - I'm paraphrasing. It's been a hot minute and a completely different computer since I played the intro sequence. But I did have a butter knife equipped when I logged in today. So. Um. Thanks for that old buddy?

Then the twins got her to the old elves casino bus and were like "Well, have fun Grandma! I know we said we'd see you off but we're going to do something else. Don't do anything we wouldn't do! And especially don't miss your ship!"

Then she hallucinates a bunch of conversations with dead people, which was sad until suddenly she just started talking to an invisible Elrond who to my admittedly limited Tolkein knowledge is not dead, so maybe her going to Elves Retirement Home isn't such a bad idea? But imaginary Elrond & co said "nah it's boring there, you should go make trouble here"

And then she did.

Some of Grandma Anariel's favorite past-times include:

Getting lost on the map, because wayfinding in that game is stupidly difficult. It's okay though because the game gave me a title for it:

It knows me so well.

She also likes leaping off tall cliffs and hills instead of taking the properly marked paths, and T-posing her way to the ground:

And then limping along painfully for a good long while:

She's also learning modern technology, and is starting to figure out how to take proper selfies

Anyway she was asked to go find an Elf Lord's son, found his bag instead and was like "Um sorry bro?" so now she's off to apparently start a war with the dwarves???

Slow down, Grandma! Middle Earth is clearly not ready for you to have woken up from your nap.

Anyway, I hope you like her @captainderyn. She might wind up burning the whole place down at this rate.

[siriannatan]

yet ANOTHER 'fWhip can't take care of himself and refuses to rest' - ScottfWhipJimmy

You guys said you wanted this so I wrote it :} (I might have been watching Martyn's vault hunters streams as background noise...)

Jimmy's favourite part of the emperor's meets at Grimlands was when he could leave and no longer listen to Joel complain about how the count was dressed. Mostly that it did not suit a noble, not to say an emperor with the Crown. Who cared if fWhip lived his life in dusty and muddy, too-big-for-him coats and falling-apart scarves? Jimmy certainly didn't, especially since the whole conflict between them has ended.

"I think I left my notes," he sighed to Lizzie, Joel and Scott. 

"I'll wait here," the elf said, already leaning against a wall. They did have a meeting scheduled to talk about some stuff - mostly so Scott could have a break from his brother and advisors.

Since Lizzie and Joel had their own things to get back so they left - Lizzie did threaten Scott to make sure Jimmy was not hurt. Not that many things could hurt an eight feet tall demigod who could at will strike all his problems with thunder. And so Jimmy hurried back to the meeting room.

To his shock fWhip was still there. Jimmy expected he went to discuss some WRA business but he was just slumped in his chair. "Sorry, I forgot my..." Jimmy started to apologise, just in case fWhip was actually doing something important, but froze when the Lord Emperor... snored and shifted a bit. 

Was he really asleep or messing with Jimmy? When would he fall asleep even? The meeting ended barely like five minutes ago. And now that Jimmy was thinking about it fWhip did look a bit tired and even yawned a few times. But to fall asleep this fast? He must have been exhausted. And... maybe looked a bit cute all wrapped in his coat, scarf and draconic wings with his mouth slightly open. But no matter how cute he looked or how comfy the chairs in the meeting hall were it was probably not the best spot for a nap.

He did have Scott waiting for him but there was no way he was leaving fWhip like this. So after grabbing his papers and shoving them into his bag Jimmy gently shook fWhip. "fWhip? Don't you have a bed somewhere?" he asked just quiet enough so anyone walking past the room wouldn't - hopefully- hear him, and shook the half-dragon. 

Nothing so plan B it was - calling Scott so he was not annoyed he had to wait and explaining the situation to him. 

Scott was quickly back in the meeting room and sighed as soon as he saw fWhip. "He's overworking himself again," he said and poked fWhip. Not even his cold hands could wake the slumbering dragon. "I found him like this a few times back when Rivendell was in the WRA," he explained. "He'll overwork himself and then sleep in the most random places. Like the top of his workbench and then pretend he's fine. We definitely should move him somewhere more comfortable."

Luckily they were literally inside fWhip's manor so all they had to do was find a bed. Any bed. And put fWhip in it. All while avoiding any staff and guards so they would not alert fWhip's siblings and allies. They wanted to put him somewhere comfortable. Not start a war. Luckily they didn't have to wander too much and there wasn't that much staff in the manor. Maybe because of the meeting? 

"I think it might be fWhip's bedroom," Scott hummed looking about as Jimmy set the sleeping count on the bed. "Looks like no one slept here in a while," he explained but Jimmy had a different problem.

"Scott? He's not letting go of me..." Jimmy whispered, at this point afraid to wake fWhip up. And got pulled even closer as fWhip mumbled something in his sleep. Low and growly but illegible. "Scott? Help... please..."

"How exactly am I supposed to help? I'm sure you're strong enough to break out," Scott chuckled. "And it's nice to see you two not arguing without Gem and Lizzie around," he added and sat on the bed.

It was a mistake as fWhip's arm which was not holding Jimmy hostage for fear of breaking the count's limbs, grabbed his long braid and pulled him into the hug. Mumbling something just for a second and shifting with an annoyed half-growl until he was comfy enough between too shocked to resist Scott and Jimmy.

"I think we're stuck here," Jimmy whispered, giving up and cuddling fWhip. He was not fighting long, covered in deep dark red scales tail wrapped around his leg. Scott sighed and said nothing but also gave up to the tight grip the living furnace that fWhip was, had on him. It was quite a pleasant change from the constant chill his affinity for ice magic came with.

*several hours later*

fWhip had no recollection of ever leaving the quickly tossed together by his staff meeting room and going to bed. Or Scott and Jimmy ever joining him as pleasant as it was to be stuck between them despite Jimmy's sharp scales and how cold Scott always was. His dragon part was happy and it took him a second to register that he was purring. Not something he did often, growling at annoying people was a more common presentation of his dragon instincts.

"Had a nice nap, sunflower?" Scott hummed, shifting a bit but not pulling away. "You're purring..."

"It's cute," Jimmy yawned from behind fWhip pulling both of them to himself. "Morning, firecracker."

fWhip could only hum as his dragon brain melted in all the affection. Dragons were as he discovered shockingly clingy and cuddly which made his day-to-day life a bit miserable as it made him constantly touch-starved. It was so bad he wasn't even questioning why Jimmy and Scott were in his bed anymore. Just hoping they'd stay a bit longer.

[elfmagesurana]

not to mix medias on here but surana would do numbers in bg3

while she's more of a goody two shoes than my tav, she's stronger too so lae'zel would respect her faster (and will get rejected as well lol but mostly cos lae'zel isn't poly)

gale and surana would be SO ANNOYING OMG, cos gale is basically if her and alistair had a baby so their magic babble would be nigh unintelligible once they have each other's lingo down. gale asks her so many questions about the taint and her blood magic (cos so far I haven't seen blood magic in bg3?)

Wyll and her would share stories since he's the blade of frontiers and she's the hero of fereldan. Would absolutely ask if she can kill mizora. Multiple times.

Surana, like my tav, would absolutely not care abt shadowheart being a shar worshipper even after learning what it means. Cos not her circus not her monkeys, she just respects her culture like she did to sten (diff situations but she doesn't know girlies backstory and neither do I) She talks to her a bit abt healing magic since she only knows Heal

Astarion gets ratted out for being a vampire cos everyone at first thought surana was a normal elf (this is all basically after awakening so she's only like 19, even younger than lae'zel !) and she only responds w saying her blood is poisonous anyway :) astarion could Not tell if that was a threat or not (it was) but he respects her a lil bit for it. she likes him well enough cos he's like morrigan to her and he's kinda afraid of her since her magic is new to him and she keeps using Explode People and it's gross

Her and karlach hang out and she tells her abt her worlds demons and karlach says she can kick their asses too, and she calls her warden commander after getting told abt the blight (they swap war stories, karlachs time in avernus and suranas bs w the blight and the architect)

Halsin has an aneurysm when she tells him she's only been outside for two years and likes being underground more. They both like to turn into bears and nap together tho, and she def accidentally calls him dad

Minthara died (got murdered) by my tav but her and surana would be coocoo bananas together, surana isn't squeamish and loves talking about viscera and gross shit w her (although in surana case her deals more abt darkspawn or assassins that come after her)

she thinks jaheira is cool and jaheira would probably respect her back while giving her survival advice

[theaviskullguy]

this game has my brain hostage. so here's how i think the s4 +rider and avi would play bg3. spoilers for bg3

Army:

-Explorer difficulty. He is FULLY into it.

-In normal dnd he is your minmaxer who somehow makes it work with the roleplay. In bg he is ALL in for his character and plays them as accurately as he can.

-Valor Bard, High Elf. The backstory he gave himself was he grew up on the streets of Waterdeep and learned magic and tricks of the tongue to cast it from bards he watched. He was gifted a lute by a traveling paladin who had no need for it.

-Romancing Gale. he's too nice to go for the twink vampire and too gay for anyone else (other than maybe wyll but he got set on gale's romance first)

Aloha:

-Balanced, multiplayer with Mask.

-He went with a tiefling ("the gayest race!!") rogue, arcane trickster, with the Charlatan background without knowing Astarion was essentially the same in a different font

-He's a (reforming!) conman from Baldur's Gate who once conned Cazador. He now only goes for the more wicked people for his cons which. still includes Cazador i guess

-Also romancing Gale because "he reminds me of army and that's Hot"

Mask:

-Balanced, multiplayer with Aloha but has her own save on tactician. Same character for both

-Dark urge wood elf (for the speed), draconic sorceress with blue dragon bloodline. She's not evil but she is An Asshole.

-She wrote her own backstory where even before loosing her memory she was resisting her urge to murder and so she moved into the woods and became known as "The Witch of the Wicked" due to her spells having deep prices

-Very neutral on savescumming. She makes fun of Army for it and Rider for not

-Though somehow romancing Karlach cause even she has standards and cant resist buff women

Rider:

-Explorer. He's a giant nerd and wants to take it easy to pick up on all the references without stress

-High elf War Cleric of Ilmater. Portrays him as a protector of those in need, as most Ilmater clerics are, but he's more aggressive in his protection. Hence, war domain. He's like a scary older brother that protects people

-Jokes to Goggles and Hachi (who watch over his shoulder) that "he's just a long suffering mom friend who needs a coffee, and a nap"

-Romancing Wyll because Goggles n Hachi both liked him

Skull:

-Explorer because he's new to dnd and related stuff. He played a bit of Pathfinder and that's it. He's enjoying himself though

-Wood Elf ranger as "i feel like i couldnt be anything else in dnd". Outlander background and beastmaster subclass. Has a giant wolf with him at all times he named Ulfric who is the soul of Avi reincarnated after his death. Avi came up with that one

-Karlach reminds him too much of Avi so of course he's going to give the tiefling woman a Smooch. As He Should

Avi:

-Tactician. He's not a stranger to gaming nor is he one to dnd.

-Minmaxes but makes it work.

-Tiefling Paladin of Vengence, somehow with wolflike traits. Folk hero background. He and Skull had the idea that their bg3 characters were married but their different playthroughs are where the other died respectively if that makes sense

-Hates Being Mean. Chaotic Good playthrough but hates being a dick

-Romancing Wyll because Wyll reminds him a lil of Skull and Paladin/Warlock is an underrated ship dynamic. its the same thing in Reverse

[shimmerbeasts]

Little bat.

As cute and endearing as it sounded, Astarion, much like Wyll, still had a lot to learn. Coming from Avernus and being the daughter of a warmonger meant that one of Mizora's main concerns would always be to foster souls, suitable for the battles of the Blood War. Zariel preferred to call in her dues at the end of a long life when you had become a battle-hardened warrior and honed your skills to perfection.

Thus as far as Mizora was concerned, Wyll and Astarion, while on the right path, were still far away from their desired shape and image. All perfectly crafted to suit her mother's and her needs. But a bat and a pup would only get so far, even with a leash thugging them along the right path. A spectral vampire bat and a hound though? Now, that was a completely different story!

Rewriting Astarion's contract had been hard. Instead of merely signing a dotted line like Wyll had done, Mizora had seen herself forced to tattoo her contract upon the vampire spawn's back. The pale elf had squirmed underneath her grasp, howling and trashing. Even with the medication, Wyll had napped from Shadowheart, it had only alleviated the pain marginally as infernal magic dug its way into Astarion's flesh. Yet her puppy hadn't left. Instead, he had sat there beside Astarion and let him hold his hand, even if the clench crushed and bruised his fingers.

Mizora could not help but start laughing. "Help you in person with that fight?", she said after she had calmed down, "You misunderstand me, little bat. It is unlikely that I will feel the need to intervene in person. I trust that you and Wyll will be able to handle your former master. You could even bring some of your playmates along for the ride. However, that does not mean that I won't help at all. I am willing to send someone your way, who will help you. I have done this before with Wyll if he has encountered enemies, where I believed he could use a hand."

There was a little smile on his face at the pet name she'd bestowed upon him. Fitting, he thought, and endearing. He'd rather be a bat than a pup, that's for sure. Astarion didn't need a leash to stay or return to Mizora, he was there of his own choosing. Much like a cat, really, but he did like being called 'little bat.' At least, if he was leashed, she hadn't had to use it on him, not yet. Not like she'd used it on Wyll, which always made him chuckle, just a little. He was rather fond of his pact-brother, even before making the deal with Mizora, but now it was like the two of them were in a super, secret, exclusive club. Of course, he'd always enjoy being a playful thorn in the Blade's side.

He remembered when the contract was rewritten, the endless agony of the entire night it took wracking him with pain he'd never felt before, even under Cazador's tortures. But it was worth it, well worth it, to know that he'd been instrumental in foiling his master's plan for power and domination.

All thanks to his beautiful and generous patron.

And her generosity would seem to know no bounds, as she offered her assistance in taking down the vampire lord alongside Astarion. Having a Cambion on their side would definitely swing the battle in their favor. And wouldn't she look stunning, ripping Cazador apart? He looked up at her again, brows raised, a bit of surprise present in his voice. "You would help me take him down?"

[toxooz]

Some of your posts mention elf recipes, are elves just animals or are they sentient people?

oh sweet jesus here i go again skskSKSKS RIGHT SO to prevent a "freak supports cannibalism!!!" scandal or some shit it was just this post

it was just a dark humor banter between them since their humor does get pretty dark when they're around each other BUT yeah elves are sentient beings and where Ollie is from in his orc community they did eat elf sometimes mainly as a treat as in if they successfully killed a stray elf or something bc of the whole "Elf vs Orc" thing going on over there where they were battling n ambushing eachother left and right (im sure Ollie's momma had to stuff baby Ollie in her War Bra™ for a long nap while she fought in a few battles bc she couldn't find a babysitter in time lmfao) but yeah in that area of the world it was pretty common for orcs to just fukkin eat an elf or even eachother bc i mean cmon they're orcs they can be brutish and harsh which is what Ollie grew up with. Ollie's been welding weapons of war since he was like 4, even killed a few elves as a child and ate some too bc well that's what ya did!! Despite being a lil runt half orc he still took after his momma where he would love to hunt and try to kill things to be "Big n Bad". In fact I feel like him and Ponti were honestly very similar as children which is why they were able to connect to each other so strongly after all the Drama was settled but like the skull in Nubbogs enclosure is an elf skull that Ollie harvested as a kid (spider warning) :

or like these bones in Ollie room some of them are probably elf bones lets b real:

bUT ANYWAY my theory is basically since there are more carnivorous designed monsters in this world (ie. sharp teeth, eyesight, behaviors, Ponti is literally solely made from carnivore DNA, ect.) i feel like cannibalism and that of the sort is probably more common as a whole as opposed to our world where the only humanoids are well *us* and we're omnivores with plenty of food options so cannibalism Should Not be common if u get my drift??? Whether it be an act of survival that eventually turned into tradition with some of the monster species or what have you but in some parts of the world that's just how it is lmfao. However it is banned in a good amount of places as well like the country that the skate sqaud is in now ofc any cannibalism of the sort is strictly banned so that's why Ollie is a ''''civil man''''' now as in now if he saw an elf just out he's obv just going to leave them alone. I'm sure after being raised in that environment he still might have urges, but they just show up in the form of intrusive thoughts like if he's standin in line in the grocery store maybe he'll think 'i can just maul this guys head off like a lion who's gunna stop me' which he ofc doesn't pursue and shuts down immediately lmfao in fact that might be why the whole Religious Horrors Beyond Comprehension was as traumatic as it was for him bc maaaybe it hit him that the elves he killed and ate as a kid were souls with wills and lives 🤔🤔🤔 who knows I'll still think on that one BUT yeah long story short elves are sentient beings as complex as any but did get eaten and it's honestly to add another layer of unnerving reality of Yes Ollie is a big huggable morally gray sweetheart But he Has eaten people before and he Could maul somebody like a rabid lion if it weren't for the laws of this land sO that was just a bone tossed at the grim fact that: