#THIS IS NOT DWARF PROPAGANDA

[leeksoupforstardew]

I made the ultimate tierlist for the characters spice tolerance (minus leon and birdie)

[daniel-nerd]

I AM A DWARF AND IM DIGGING A HOLE

DIGGY DIGGY HOLE DIGGY DIGGY HOLE

[biancadavri]

if YOU were to fumble a dwarven woman there would be nothing on this earth that would bring you joy no therapy that would fix you no riches that would make it worth it people would look you in the eyes and see nothing behind them think before making alistair king

[maple-the-awesome]

I love how most of the Hobbit (1977) characters look pretty decent compared to their modern counterparts. Like...

Good. Nice long beard, staff to not let them pass. Perfect for our favorite weed wizard. 10/10

Pretty decent. Looks a little bit like a human chipmunk, but he's doing his best and is cute in his own Hobbit way.

Snow white and the, like, 13 dwarves? 'can't blame them for going basic and at least they look like dwarves, so I'll let it pass

And then there's just...

...Oh God. Thranduil, what have they done to you?!

This...This is a criminal offense right here! Dwarf propaganda at it's finest!

[best-fictional-cat]

Round 1 Group 12

Cat (Red Dwarf) vs T'Ana (Star Trek: Lower Decks)

[yacrimago]

I'm back 😊

I'll try to draw a bit more now. So here you can have this young Ori, yes, he's still my favourite and I hope that you like it @i-did-not-mean-to because I always think of you while drawing him.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Apple of my eye

This beautiful moodboard has been made by @sorisooyaa, my beloved baby...

In an attempt to break me out of my funk, here comes a little Ori story from the sweet sheet of the @fellowshipofthefics February Bingo.

Words: 1.5 k

Characters: Ori x reader

Prompt: Kissing in the rain

Your thoughts were flickering in and out of focus as you stared at the raindrops running down the opaque windowpane beside you despondently.

The weather had been rotten for days and you yearned for sunshine and blue skies with almost childlike fervency.

“What I wouldn’t give for a sweet, golden apple,” you sighed, well-aware of how whimsical and random that thought was, and leaned your head against the cool glass.

Rainstorms always made you feel profoundly lonely; they were meant for lazy cuddling by the fire and self-indulgent poetry readings. Unfortunately for you, the one who insidiously crept into all of your daydreams of sweet, innocent togetherness seemed stubbornly oblivious to your affections and so, you were doomed to petulant moping instead.

The slamming of a door interrupted your morose thoughts suddenly, and you looked up in surprise; surely, nobody would dare brave the vicious downpour when nightfall was so close at hand. You were, after all, well supplied and there was no good reason to venture forth at this hour.

“Lassie,” Dwalin grumbled reproachfully, “take a care what you wish for!”

Startled, you scanned the room and soon realised that it was indeed Ori, the very person you had been musing about so miserably, who had left the shelter of the small hut you were perched-up in together until the storm had abated.

“What is he thinking?” you exclaimed in dismay, springing to your numb feet in alarm.

“You’ve asked for some fruit, so he went to get you what your heart desires.”

“Nonsense!” you opined vehemently. “Why would he do something so recklessly thoughtless? He’ll get mired down in the mud or lose his way in the blinding rain! What my heart desires…and he leaves, really!”

Kíli gave you a long, dumbfounded stare, his unwavering disbelief starkly evident in every single line of his face.

“Ori would try to unhook the moon and pick stars like flowers for you,” he eventually said and shook his head regretfully. “Not that it has done him much good thus far.”

The heat of indignation and of disappointed love rose into your cheeks as you strode towards the door without sparing a thought or word for the unduly forward prince.

“Bloody fool,” you cursed. “Thrice confounded idiot!” Without paying any further heed to the astonished faces turning towards you in your passionate outburst either, you threw open the door and rushed out into the onslaught of icy water fearlessly.

Immediately, rivulets of stunning cold made their way down your spine and permeated your clothes as you advanced, tottering, towards the nearby line of fruit trees on unsteady feet.

This might well have been a mistake, you conceded, but you were too proud and decided to turn back now like a beaten cur.

Soon, you could make out the beloved silhouette of a small, dainty being – leaning forward to defy the vengeful violence of the sheets of rain driving him back – moving resolutely under the shadow of the dark trees.

“Ori!”

He turned around, wiping one hand over his eyes to clear his vision.

“What are you doing? Come in! It’s raining too much for you to go trudging off alone; it’s not safe.”

With a small, slightly quivering smile, he let his other hand shoot forward and – as his stiff fingers unravelled – you could discern a beautiful, golden apple lying like an unlooked-for treasure in his palm.

“I just…you said..” Ori grimaced and took a step towards you, his offering still stretched out reverently in front of his drenched and wretchedly trembling body.

Before you could either chide or thank him, he slipped on a treacherous spot of deep mud and fell hard.

“Ori!” You hastened forward, instantly losing your balance as your foot caught on a stone that had been obscured by the churned-up earth, and slithered into him on your hands and knees. “Are you okay? Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

Overcome by worry and love, you started patting his legs and arms – checking your hands for blood every other second – in a public display of attachment you would have been deeply ashamed of if anyone else had witnessed it.

“I just wanted to make you feel better,” Ori finished his previous thought quietly. “You looked so very sad because of the rain.”

“The rain?” It was true that you were not overly fond of overcast weather, but it had not really been the storm that had soured your mood. Maybe, you thought, it was time to tell him the truth; for once, you were perfectly alone and – surrounded by a veil of water – you truly felt as if you were the only people left alive in a world made of fury and darkness.

“I have tried to make you understand how much you mean to me for weeks now,” you confessed, crawling up over his prone body and staring longingly into his wide eyes. “It was the lack of a favourable reaction from you that has dampened my joy.”

Ori blinked in confusion. “That is highly irregular,” he finally said. “I might be slow, but I am steady; thus, I have dutifully studied your glances and smiles and I’ve memorised every one of them to make sure that I was not deluding myself.”

Proffering his apple once more, he blushed furiously. “I would have fulfilled your every wish, proving myself to be caring and reliable and then, a few months hence, I might have gathered the courage to present you with a token of my undying affection, made by my own hands and accompanied by a long letter of confession.”

He looked positively distraught now, wiping at his wet hair falling into his beautiful face periodically and gazing up at you with imploring intensity. “Never would I have guessed that my reticence would cause you pain. You must believe me when I swear that this was never my intention!”

You wanted everything he had described, of course, but you desired him more; you were restless and wet, and consequently good manners and wise precaution were not foremost in your troubled mind at that moment.

“Tell me true, Ori dearest, do you reciprocate my helpless infatuation then?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed, obviously scandalised by the minute flicker of doubt in your expression. “How could I not? Take this apple as a proof of my devotion; you yearned for sweetness and sunshine, and I’d stop the very rain from falling if only the depth of my love could tear the heavenly veils.”

“Sweetness,” you mused with a smirk and leaned forward to press your lips onto his brow. “I accept what you are offering, my darling.”

That face you had been dreaming about for so many days and nights was tilted up ever so slightly and your heart understood the cautious invitation before your mind could even make sense of everything that was happening; your lips wandered across his freckled cheeks and along his soft, bearded jaw to land softly on that expressive mouth you so admired.

It was still raining hard and, every so often, you tossed your head back to draw a deep breath to avoid drowning in your greed and the abundance of water battering your back unforgivingly, but – now that you had Ori to yourself – you couldn’t stop kissing him until you were light-headed with giddy triumph.

“You’re soaked,” you finally laughed, leaning your forehead against his, “and so am I. Let’s go in and dry off; I am more than willing to share my bedroll with you until we’re warmed up again.”

His golden eyes flashed with hints of amber and onyx as he realised that you were the only one allotted a separate chamber for privacy reasons; he had never set foot in that forbidden room and the thought of being secluded with you in so intimate a manner made his blush deepen and his fingers tremble.

“Highly…” he started.

“Irregular? Indecent? Tempting?” you supplied with a wink and scrambled to your feet cautiously, grabbing his hand and pulling him up alongside you.

“Yes!”

“Well, you’ve risked your health and happiness to get me an apple,” you grinned. “I would be remiss indeed if I didn’t risk my reputation and integrity to show myself appropriately grateful.”

Once more, he looked highly bewildered by your forwardness, but he followed you back to the cabin without saying another word.

“Ah, you’re alive!” The members of his company – friends and kin – seemed both relieved and amused by the muddy, drenched, pathetic sight of your victorious return.

“Indeed,” you said, still dragging Ori by the hand and presenting your apple proudly. “We shall now retire to clean up and to celebrate the successful foray of our dearest Ori.”

You disappeared into the small room at the end of the hall under a hail of hooting and hollering; someone wisely prophesied that Ori would end up marrying you and someone else – Kíli if your ears did not betray you – predicted an outcome of a much lewder variety.

If you had any say in the matter, as you hoped you would, you’d prove each and every one of them right before long.

So, special thanks to my darling baby for this beautiful edit...

And thanks to @fellowshipofthefics for the lovely prompts and the support.

Lots of love from a very sad little me!

[catebees]

Can I just say how much I love Verena’s facial hair? It inspired me to give my own Aeducan girlie a nice moustache :)

I'm so happy to hear this!! I'm such a fan of bearded dwarven women, it's great to know another one joined the club! I'm sure everybody has already seen it but the concept art book for The Hobbit movies has so many renders of beautiful dwarven ladies sporting great facial hair styles, if you ever want to take further inspiration:

these are just some examples!

[loremastering]

Only including those who are non canon to the books and featured most prominently, or whoever caught my eye ;)

[dungeon-meshi-tournament]

please (hot) dwarf mickbell win

Too shy to post it under the poll itself?

[chunky-doggo]

Just say no!

A fun spoof of an old soviet era poster, I think the origional was trying to tell people to not drink booze with meals? Anyway, I like the whole Elves Vs Dwarfs Dorf Fort has going on and I tried to capture the low graphic nature of the game in a different way to the previous PETSCII/ASCII ones.

I actually like salad, but as part of a meal, not the whole thing itself.

[petirrojito]

If we are gonna say senshi is feminine by dwarf standards it rly needs to be different from our own gender roles. He can cook and is caring is old news. I need shit like he wears sandles and has a long beard instead of a short one. He doesn’t look after his axe. He’s fat as hell. The fairy

[wall-eye]

My sister went to dnd club today <3 there's a 2ft tall halfling and a 7ft tall ??? in her party and the tall one threw the halfing at her when they first met

[siyapara]

Haumea!!!

Bro, tris is joke… BUT i LIKE now 😭😭😭

disphoria 🥺

[yacrimago]

Do I have something for ModernAu! teenage Ori? YES! I think he's cute in that way. I tried with another colour for the line art, what do you think? Btw, sorry for the shoes, so simple asdasdas but I still don't know how to draw them. :3

Anyway, hope you like it, specially @i-did-not-mean-to I always think of you when I draw Ori.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Cup of love

This Mini-Story is dedicated to @lordoftherazzles's lovely fic Dragonhearted!

Words: 1.6k

Characters: Interviewer, W, Teacup-Ori

Prompt: Soulmates

The woman who wants to remain anonymous and to whom I’ll refer forthwith as “W” sits down in the comfortable armchair provided for that express purpose and looks at me from steady, dark eyes that seem to hold an expression of slight challenge.

After the initial, customary exchange of insipid greetings and void niceties, I encourage her to describe – in her own words – how she’s found herself in such a peculiar situation as to be convinced that her soulmate is in fact a teacup.

Here is what she’s confided to this eminent paper:

I was walking in the woods that lead nowhere in particular, which, in and of itself, is strange because you’d think that a forest like that would surround some stately manor or at least separate two villages. ‘Tis not so in this case; whoever enters this densely overgrown patch of land will invariably find themselves turned around and disoriented.

One has to admit that this peculiar effect has been a source of amusement and merriment amongst the people of my village for many years and so, it has become a habit I cherish greatly.

So, there I was, courageously defying the magic of the dark trees by padding noiselessly through their shadows, not expecting anything untoward or unusual to occur.

Suddenly, something thoroughly unanticipated made me freeze where I stood though. In front of me, not five steps away, lay an abandoned teacup in the snow.

To my surprise, it seemed hale enough! Believing that no wild beast would have any real use for such fine porcelain, I picked it up gingerly.

“Hello,” the cup spoke and I almost dropped it then and there, which – I can only surmise – might have been severely detrimental to its health, as far as one may use such terms for what still seemed to me to be but a piece of expertly fashioned ceramic tableware. “I am Ori.”

Stunned, I stammered out my own name with much less poise and gentility as was warranted by a formal introduction, but the spirit inhabiting the teacup is as gracious as it is kind and so no hard feelings remain from that unsuccessful first meeting.

“Your hands are warm,” he – for it was a male teacup – praised and nuzzled his handle firmly into my palm.

Of course, I asked him all the questions that rose to the forefront of my mind haphazardly. Who was he? What was he? Why could he speak? Where did he come from? Was he magical?

Unfortunately, Ori – the little cup man – was rather cagey about the specifics of his circumstances and merely provided evasive replies such as “My name is Ori, I am evidently a teacup, I was taught to speak by my family as were you, I suspect.”

Alas, he would not divulge how he had come to meet me on my stroll or where he’d return to once our meeting had drawn to an end; moreover, he was rather tight-lipped about the undeniable flavour of a seemingly rather whimsical supernatural power of which the whole thing smacked.

“That sounds fantastical,” I cry out, my eyes bulging out of my head as I stare at the mousy, little woman still sitting in front of me.

“Ha! That is exactly what I said,” W grins and takes a sip of the tea I have supplied; she makes a face on account of the bitterness of the lukewarm beverage, but – loony as she might be – she’s too polite to put her distaste into cutting words.

“And what did he say?” I prompt her, remembering that it is bad form to interrupt the eyewitness account. It has taken too much time to put her at ease to snap her out of her talkative mood by side-tracking her with inane interjections.

She leans back in her chair with an almost handsome smile that illuminates her rather stern mien.

“If you’d let me go on, you’d hear all about it,” she chides with the benevolent severity of a schoolteacher and then continues her account.

“I feel like I’ve fallen into a fairy tale,” I said to him, holding him up to my face and seeing my breath fog up his countenance.

“A retelling of one, more like it,” he quipped, visibly comfortable with being held and handled. “If it pleases you, we could meet again soon? It is time for me to hop back to the secret place I have escaped from for a breath of fresh air, but I’d much enjoy some outside company.”

Now, it is known that my people have always believed in the concept of soulmates. My grandmother – wise and toothless as she has been as long as I can recall – has ever told me that, when you meet the soul that will complete yours, you’ll just know.

There was no flash of lightning and no roll of thunder, but my heart clenched in terrible recognition of the one I was meant to find.

All of this, naturally, might sound rather fanciful to a serious investigator of the hard truths of life, but I am a simple woman who does not presume to doubt beliefs that have been upheld and nurtured by my people for countless centuries.

So, what then was I – lonely, poor, and wretched – to do other than to agree wholeheartedly to seeing Ori, a sentient piece of crockery, at his earliest convenience for another round of fruitless discussions?

“Yes,” I breathed and set him down as carefully as if he was made of glass. Come to think of it, that was not all that far from the truth, and I did well in handling him with the utmost care and respect.

I watched him go, listless, and my whole soul was quivering as a bowstring stretched too far by the reckless hand of an inexperienced archer.

Every day, I’d thus return to the forest in hopes of meeting the enchanted object – quite literally – of all my hopes and dreams once more.

A week after our initial meeting, I had almost convinced myself that there had been no such incident and that it had been but an absurdly detailed fever dream that haunted me now with the aftertaste of the devastating loss of something I had never even possessed to begin with.

Nonetheless, I returned to the woods one last time to mourn the demise of my sanity.

Just as I was about to turn homewards once more, a soft clinking sound resounded, and I spun around to find Ori sliding down the narrow forest path cautiously.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “there was a lot going on…in the secret place. I’ve brought you a drink though!”

I stared down at the pitiful remnant of brownish sludge that had survived his trek through the overgrown bushes and the dense, gnarled roots of the tree sentinels guarding his enigmatic home.

“Am I to lift you to my lips?” I asked, afraid of committing an unforgivable faux pas by simply grabbing a sentient being as if it was indeed but an inanimate kitchen utensil.

“If you want to,” Ori replied breathlessly, a pinkish hue tinging his impeccable glaze all of a sudden. “I fear that the quality of the tea must have suffered a little, but it should still be somewhat wholesome to drink.”

He was kind, you have to understand, and so terribly sweet in his courteous, shy demeanour. To be truthful, I cared very little about the rather subpar tea, containing the odd stray leaf, he offered me; it was of no consequence to me compared to the immense pleasure of holding him in my cupped hands again and lifting his slender, delicate, terrifyingly fragile beauty to my trembling lips and tilting him ever so warily to refresh myself.

Afterwards, I gave him a little bath in the nearby stream – the water was shockingly cold – and we sat and talked for a little while. He would still not tell me about where he had come from and what bound him to that place, but my absurd instinct that he was the One for me solidified, nonetheless.

As insane as that sounds, he seemed to understand me perfectly – humming at the right moments and uttering tinkling peals of laughter at others – and I felt comfortable and cherished in his presence. What does that say about me that it took a cursed item for me to get the sensation that I was being perceived favourably by another soul?

W looks up at me defiantly at this point of her narrative, blinking back tears she visibly refuses to spill in front of such an insensitive audience. “We met up several times after that, stolen moments in the woods far away from our usual cares and worries; it was precious, and I wonder what has kept him lately.”

I admit that I am taken aback by her vulnerability and her frankness, so I look for the right words to say to her; of course, I also wonder whether I should inform her of the ongoing climate of unrest and the riots that would probably break out before long.

“That’s all,” she concludes aggressively and wrings her small, pale hands in her lap. “I met a magical creature, and I might even have had a chance at love in the long run, but now, we might never know.” Just as I am about to give her some reassuring but empty words of polite solace, a great ruckus resounds outside, and she dives towards the window in a flash of flying hair and trembling limbs.

Flames in the night and an angry mob moving towards her beloved, enchanted forest; I stand transfixed and witness the choked cry of horror that seems to deflate the once proud woman who has just finished telling her story.

“Let’s go,” I say in a mournful voice, taking her by the hand. “Let’s see what all of this is about.”

So, my dear friend, I hope this made you smile!

@fellowshipofthefics I am still at it.

Lots of love