#i have beef with the rest of the elf's too

[mysticskeletons]

if there's any chance oingo boingo/danny elfman see this: PLEASE RELEASE "REMEMBER MY NAME" i gotta use it for rizz purposes

[kipperlillyclerickiller]

Exploring Unconventional Bad Kid/Ratgrinder Parallels

Obviously, when Brennan introduced the Ratgrinders in FHJY, some clear parallels in class composition popped up. Every member of the Bad Kids has a corresponding Ratgrinder who shares their general build/role in the party and (presumably) some of their psychological issues as well. But when I was rotating the characters in my mind, as one does, I realized that there were some other interesting character foils to be pointed out. I've listed them below under the read more, along with more detailed thoughts on what aspects of the characters are highlighted with each comparison.

Also I spent way too much time working on this, so I'm including a DNI banner on here (made by @kipperlillyforpresident, who also graciously let me bounce ideas off in the DMs)

Kipperlilly Copperkettle/Gorgug Thistlespring: the first parallel that i came up with. they both have issues around rage that are belied by their physical appearance, with klck being a tiny halfling who experiences an excessive amount of rage that doesn't "benefit" her adventuring-wise as she's a rogue, while on the hand, gorgug is a half-orc who started out as a barbarian in part because it is what he's physically predisposed to be, despite actually having an extremely gentle personality, only transitioning to artificer in his junior year. both have relatively normal middle-class backgrounds but still have issues; klck's anger issues regarding not having a tragic backstory are well-documented, but gorgug also has baggage that made him minimize his presence at the beginning of his high school career, stemming from growing up in a household where rage wasn't really considered at all bc it's an emotion so antithetical to the thistlesprings' way of existence (to be clear, i think the thistlesprings are great parents; it's just that they didn't really know how to address this aspect of gorgug's development)

Ruben Hopclap/Fabian Seacaster: black boys showing off the sensitive side of masculinity. last episode established that the ratgrinders are living in ruben's mansion, which he presumably bought with his rockstar money and lives in without any parental figures, meaning that he and fabian have similar living situations and probably similar issues with trying to avoid loneliness that result in attention-seeking behavior (ruben's music career and fabian's max legend status). finally, the turncoat potential: fabian has admitted to listening to ruben's music and beefed with gertie bladeshield against the rest of the bad kids. meanwhile, ruben's experiencing some sort of guilt/reluctance with the ratgrinders' plan as expressed through his interactions w/ wanda childa. i believe they can bridge the bad kid/ratgrinder divide and i want them to be friends sooo bad

Ivy Embra/Fig Faeth: most straightforward similarity is their sylvan elf heritage, but i think that the similarity that matters the most would be their image/self-portrayal, with ivy being a sort of mean girl with an edge, similar to the type of person that fig wanted to portray herself as in freshman year (even though fig is actually much more soft-hearted/sentimental). this comparison is honestly more of a what-could-be scenario that sheds light on potential alternate facets of fig's story bc 1) ivy being an elven ranger is pretty similar to sandra lynn but has the edgy persona fig only took on after she found out about her tiefling heritage and 2) we have literally no idea what's going on with ivy's emotional landscape. still, this comparison compels me, especially in light of finding out how porter and jace groomed the ratgrinders, and the way that sandra lynn got used by bobby dawn when he was an adventurer. it's like a dark mirror of what could have happened to fig if the circumstances were worse (and the fact that bobby dawn is a teacher in aguefort rn and was also collaborating with porter to an extent.... the cycles are cycling!!)

Mary-Ann Skuttle/Riz Gukgak: just little guys. specifically smaller races often stereotyped as villainous and acting in the service of the party rather than for themselves, though while we see that riz acts for the party out of genuine passion, mary-ann seems to be more apathetic. both are disconnected from regular teenage social norms, generally unbothered/unaware of looking "uncool", and more focused on their personal interests, as mary-ann has her plushies and riz has his mysteries (and his business cards from freshman year lol). even when riz joined all the school clubs this year, he did it for the sake of kristen's campaign/getting scholarship money to help his mom more than for his own reputation. another prominent similarity is a heavy compartmentalization of emotion: we don't really know what's going on with mary-ann but she hasn't shown any emotion even when trying out for bloodrush and seems remarkably unbothered for someone who's been presumably been shatter-starred. riz, in contrast, has a lot of emotions/anxieties but channels them into mystery solving and other activities, an approach encapsulated by the baron quote from fhsy: "You love the truth. You seek it so much that you cut your hands upon the inside of crystals. But, you use deception to protect yourself from something you fear." riz also isn't very forthcoming with his emotional state, evading questions from his mom and Jawbone, as well as his friends. His initial drive to solve mysteries stemmed from the emotion from his father's death, but iirc he didn't even tell the bad kids about how pok died until sophomore. And now, he's grinding in school/extracurriculars for scholarships to avoid considering the possibility of the bad kids splitting up

Buddy Dawn/Adaine Abernant: catty and blonde. (jk) both of them feel anger prominently and express it in their spellcasting (versus a more martial class), but in very different ways. adaine's whole arc throughout freshman and sophomore year has been about accepting that she has the right to be angry about the way that her parents abused her, and that her anger can be a source of power in her spellcasting; contrast the way she brained doreen with the ladle in the first battle with the corn cutie bc she didn't know what to do versus later battles in sophomore and junior year when she's learned adaine's furious fist. on the other hand, buddy uses his cleric spellcasting as a healer in order to sublimate discomforting feelings and avoid dealing with the idea of agency and consequences of emotions like anger. his whole conversation with kristen is basically him going "i don't feel anger because i repress it so deeply and i don't engage in violence, just help other people kill because that is helio's will. my hands are clean tho :)" (he is so funny) additionally, adaine has found a support system in her adventuring party, as well as jawbone and ayda, while buddy is the odd one out in the ratgrinders as lucy's replacement, isolated from preexisting support systems as he has just moved from highcourt and subsequently becoming so very vulnerable to getting shatterstarred

Oisin Hakinvar/Kristen Applebees: idk these are the only guys i have left. ok my original idea was they both have plot-relevance related to adaine's summons, with oisin hijacking adaine's dust mephits to tamper with the cloud rider engine and whatever the fuck is gonna go on with K2 in the next episodes. also have a narrative presence defined in part by the women they're crushing on, with kristen dealing with her attraction to tracker/gertie/women in general throughout all the campaigns and oisin being introduced as seemingly flustered by adaine's attention. but honestly i think the strongest parallel is that they're both haters (kristen calling klck "4dogs" and oisin calling buddy dawn "hayseed", fight!)

and of course, how could I forget...

Lucy Frostblade/Gilear Faeth: the Chosen Ones. both have plot relevance and relation to Ankarna through their ancestry. both just have a melancholy vibe. ppl from mountainous cultures often live off dairy products... i'm gonna extrapolate and assume that lucy loved blueberry yogurt

[reriart]

Hi i saw your post about Percy headcannons and I was wondering if you could write about Percy together with an adhd reader and the readers meds make them lose their appetite and he helps them eat and just a generally fluffy headcannon?

Hiii! Thank you for asking :3 I have ADHD too, so I hope I somehow made the story more realistic. I hope you don't mind if I ended up writing a fanfic directly, I've been thinking about this comfort story for the entire day!

I'm safe with you.

Additional tags: reader has ADHD and they're using meds, stimming, food disorder, GN!Reader, not smut for once, love confession, very soft Percy. You can read it on AO3 too! Remember that English is not my native language (plus I've wrote it in the middle of the night). Divider: cafekitsune Summary: It has passed three days since the last time you've eat something. You fainted between Percival's arms, who is deadly worried for you.

“I swear I can burp louder than you!” Grog shouted, swaying the overflowing beer mug dangerously, then drinking it all in one gulp and loudly belching in front of Scanlan's face. 

“Pff. You're a rookie. Take that!” the bard replied, echoing the gesture but intensifying the sound through his magic.

The vigorous man crossed his arms over his chest. “That's not fair! I can't win that way!”

On your end, you stood in a corner at the very end of the table, smiling shyly. Or rather, it wasn't so much a shy smile as a nervous one, which exuded discomfort. The medicine that Whitestone's doctor had prescribed for you (Percival had insisted that you go there) tasted terrible and the side effects were even worse: nausea, tremors, lack of appetite, dizziness. Except for that last one, so far you had checked all three off your daily list. You hadn't told anyone about it, to avoid worrying anyone (or even worse, that someone would force you to stay at the De Rolo castle, especially if that someone was your boyfriend). Yet, as soon as you looked up from the plate full of beans and steaming beef, two pale green eyes, circled by an elegant silver frame, were there, staring at you. Eyebrows bent downward, lips half-closed as if to say something. Percy was doing the dishes -- it was his turn (and, besides, he was practically the only one respecting it, besides you) -- but he was close enough to know that something was amiss. Although his attentions were always appreciated by you, whatever their nature, you just wanted to stay by yourself that night. 

However, the first (and only) attempt to sneak away was a fiasco. Two steps and your knees collapsed like a potato bag. Thankfully, keeping you from hitting your head, Percy was right there. He had thrown the plates in the air to catch you on the fly. You felt your mind getting foggy, your mouth heavy. 

“Hey,” he said, his eyes wide. “Are you okay?” “Mm-hm.” You didn't have the energy to think. Curling up in his arms suddenly seemed like the most reasonable choice. He smelled of jasmine and black powder. Around him, Grog, Scanlan and Vax also gathered.

“Maybe I'd better take you to the room. Hold on to me.”

“Do you need a hand?” asked the half-elf, frowning. 

“No, I thank you. I'll take care of it,” he replied, lifting you up and resting his arms behind his neck. Vax couldn't see it, but he was gently stroking your muscles with his thumbs. He loved to run his fingertips over your body, especially when he could get lost in making little circles. Somehow, he was giving comfort to both of you.

He carried you out of the huge dining room without saying anything else, holding you to his body. He was radiating a pleasant warmth, and you instinctively rubbed your face against his blouse on the way. Within minutes, you were in your bed, him sitting beside you, stroking your face.

“Hey,” he said smiling, stroking your cheek. “It's the medicine, isn't it? How long has it been since you've eaten?”

Three fingers up. You hadn't eaten for three days.

“Three days? Holy shit... you should have told me,” he remarked, running a gloved hand through his snow-white hair. 

“I didn't...want to worry you....” Guilt began to weigh down your heart, forcing you to bite your lips nervously and touch your fingertips to each other in a vain attempt to calm down, but it was only his hand under your chin that stopped the flow of obsessive thoughts. He forced you to look at him.

“It has to stop happening, okay? Talk to me. Let's communicate. You don't have to carry everything on your shoulders.”

Yeah. Percival was right. But it was so difficult even the act of thinking sometimes. Your head was perpetually bulging with thoughts, things to do, external stimuli, sounds, smells, textures. The missions, the places to explore and their dangers, the screaming, the blood, the metal, the fire. Medication had lessened all that, it was true. For a moment, sleep and daily life had become more bearable, but food had lost your attention. 

“I'm sorry.” You felt tears in the back of your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to make him angry. 

“You don't have to apologize to me,” he said softly, then stood up and reached for a pitcher and a glass of water. He filled it, handing it to you. “Let's start with the simple things. Drink a little.” 

Very quietly, the first sips went down your throat. Then, faster and faster. In a few moments you had swallowed all the water. Percival watched you from the edge of the bed, one hand on your leg distractedly playing with the fabric of your pants. 

“Good. Shall we try to eat something?”

Your stomach hadn't fully opened yet, but the idea of worrying your boyfriend made you feel worse. 

“W-What can I eat?”

“Let's see-I can get you a slice of cake, if Grog has left some. Gods, he eats like he's still about to grow!” she huffed, raising his hands to the sky and earning your laughter. His green eyes sparkled and he smiled back. “Wait for me.”

“E-even if I wanted to, I don't think I could move from here except as a worm. Crawling.”

He stood up, chuckling. “You're terrible,” he said, kissing your forehead and then pointing toward the door. “I'll be right back.”

You spent the next few minutes looking at your hands. How worn they were ... then, flashes of hands covered by leather gloves: protecting your fingers, squeezing them, medicating them. Not a moment had passed since you had met Percival De Rolo that those hands had been left to their fate. Since he had become your boyfriend, then, less so. The knuckles had been kissed, the hands held on your warm, milk-white chest. Loneliness was but a distant memory, but ... having someone taking care of you was far beyond your expectations. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the squeaking of the wooden door and the rush of cold air against your skin. Percival was holding not one, but two slices of chocolate cake, rigorously arranged on finely decorated plates. He placed one of them on your thighs, held the other in his hand, then sat back down on the edge of the bed. 

“Can you sit closer?” 

“How much closer?” “Here. Let's eat together.”

Percy, being very careful not to let his dessert fly onto his jacket, settled down next to you at your pat on the mattress. You rested your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, and he rested his own on top of you. Your free hands sought each other, entwining. It was a quiet, long minute, except for your breaths in the cold room. Then, he broke the silence.

“I know it's hard -- but really, let me carry some of your struggles on my shoulders.”

“Percy...you just got a demon off your fucking back, why don't you leave them in peace?”

“Because I love you.”

You almost had a stroke. Yes, you were now a couple (in a very adolescent way, had been your response after an initial, very shy kiss and his question, “What are we?”), but you had never confessed to each other, you had limited yourselves to a few brief contacts of hands, arms and yes, occasionally lips. Things between you were complicated, mainly because neither of you had ever been in a steady relationship and everything was pretty new. 

And just as you opened your mouth to respond, a forkful of cake flew down your throat, followed by her laughter. 

“Percy! I was going to choke-”

A blow kiss sealed your lips. “Maybe I found a way to get you to eat more often.”

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Help

I can't find the art, but I saw Batstarion round like a jelly donut and wrote about it. You're welcome? SFW.

“Darling…help…”

Agnetha hurried as fast as she could in her condition (seven months along) to where she heard her husband in his bat form in his home studio. “Love, I’ll be right there!” When she entered the studio, she let out a small scream.

“I think…I overdid it…perhaps made…a terrible mistake…”

“Astarion!” She shrieked and picked him up gently in her hands. “What the—”

“You see,” he squeaked. That almost sounded like a moan. Oh dear. “I found some fat little mice and decided to take care of that rodent problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be so bad, but I…well, forgot I’m in this form. Hence, this.”

Her mouth moved for several seconds but no words escaped her. Then she nearly shouted, “How the fuck do you forget you’re a bat? How? How does that happen? That’s like if I forgot I’m pregnant. Astarion, you mad man!” She laughed and kissed his cute little head. Awww, his little ears are twitching. “You mad, mad man.”

“If I am mad, madam, I am mad about you.” He teased and doing a little bat smirk. Awwww he’s so cute I wanna squish him. Oh wait, nope. Don’t do that. “Ha! Now, I wonder what I will happen if I change back…”

She raised an eyebrow. “That is an interesting question. Do you want me to bring you to our room, put you on the bed, and then you do it?”

“Yes…let’s try, darling.”

After she placed him on his side of their bed, he changed back to his elf form---hair disheveled, expression soft, and beckoning her to lay down with him. “I think there might’ve been more mice than I thought, because I am quite full.”

It took a moment, but I am laying down…and don’t want to get up again for a bit. One of her hands reached for his and squeezed. “You didn’t have to kill the mice. I could’ve gotten poison or something—” You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to eat vermin anymore. I made sure you don’t, because I love you, and once our baby is born, you can feed from me again instead of beef and pork blood from the butcher.

He let go of her hand and put a finger to her lips. “Shh. It was my choice, darling. It makes it easier, especially for you. One less thing for you to deal with.” His hand traveled down to her belly. “You need to rest.” His gaze softened further (I can’t say no to his face. I can’t. I’m sorry but I can’t.) as he scooched closer to her. “Let’s stay here a while, sweetness. Let’s stay right here, and I’ll watch over you both. How does that sound?”

Why do I always blush so much when he uses his soft voice on me? WHY?!?!?!? I just…can’t say no to him. She closed her eyes, feeling more tired than she originally thought. “Yeah, sounds good, love. You rest too, okay?” He works long hours. He’s taken on more at home in the past month or so. He’s not getting my blood, so he’s not as satisfied as he normally is, not as sharp, and I wish I could just give him what he needs—

He chuckled. “Even without tadpoles, I can hear you thinking, darling.”

She opened an eye and pouted.

“What is going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Opening her other eye, she sighed. “I feel like if I was still feeding you then you wouldn’t have gone after the mice.” It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. But I can’t help but feel awful.

He let out an annoyed huff. “Did you not hear me earlier? I said it was easier to have me drain them dry than having you get someone in here to take care of them or getting poison or whatever you would’ve done.” His gaze went towards her swollen belly. “I made that choice. It wasn’t being forced on me, my love.”

“I know.” She reached for his chin and tilted it up so she could look at him properly. He’s so beautiful. I still can’t believe he loves me. Wants to be with me. He could’ve had anyone, and he chose me. “I love you.” She laid a hand over his. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“I love you too, my darling girl. Rest now…” Upon seeing his wife try and fail to stifle a yawn, he laughed softly and rubbed her growing belly. “My poor little butter bun.”

“Sorry love,” her brown eyes fluttered closed as she exhaled. “Now that I’m in bed I feel so tired all of a sudden…” Probably because I’m literally growing a dhampir inside me. “Probably” doing a lot of work there, Agi.

He hummed, his hand on her belly now squeezing her fingers gently. “It’s alright, sweetness. Just rest. I’ll be here when you wake—”

Say it.

“I’ll always be here, my love.”

Me too, Star…I’ll find a way…I will…You’ll never be alone…

[danime25]

Silver Bells and Silver Screens

ao3 // normal masterlist // christmas masterlist

*Summary: Ken and his girlfriend sit down and watch one of her favorite Christmas movies together

*Rating: E for Everyone

*Content/Tags: Fluff, Elf (2003 Film)

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

Ken smiled as he sat down on the couch. After moving from Barbieland, when his girlfriend found out he hadn’t celebrated a real Christmas, she was determined to show him everything about her favorite holiday. So far, she had brought him ice skating, which he didn’t do very well, and they had made some of her family’s famous cookies, telling Ken how happy they would be to meet him. He was already feeling the Christmas joy, and they’d hardly scratched the surface according to her. 

“You ready?” She asked. She practically ran back out into the living room. She had changed from a plain shirt to a festive bright red sweater. She sat down on his lap and rested her arms around his neck. His hands worked their way across her back until he found a comfortable spot to rest his arms and gave her a kiss. She deepened the kiss before pulling away and looking at him. He smiled up at her as his hand rested on her back

“What are we doing?” He asked

“I don’t know, let me pull up Netflix and see what Christmas movies they have.”

“Okay.”

She slid off his lap and sat next to him, curling up into his side as she flipped through apps on her TV. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her head before she settled on a movie, indicating that it was her favorite. He nodded and she turned it on. Immediately Ken was enamored by the music that played as the movie began. She kissed his nose and wrapped her arms around his arm as the scene showed Buddy the Elf at the north pole. Suddenly, Ken’s eyes went wide as he watched the movie. He said under his breath,

“Oh my god.”

“What?” She looked up at him

“What?” His gaze broke, and he looked back at her. She paused the movie and his face lingered on the screen

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged a little bit, trying to act cool

“We can find another movie, if you want.” She offered

“No it’s just… let’s keep watching.” He said and she shrugged, turning the movie back on. Still the thought wouldn’t leave the back of Ken’s mind. That man on the screen looked… no was in fact, Mr. Mattel. It had to be him. It was funny seeing him acting like an elf when he was so big… but that was Mr. Mattel. What was he doing there? Ken stared blankly at the screen for a while as he pondered his existence. Who really was Mr. Mattel? She laughed softly, which was enough to bring his attention back to the movie. Something about a ‘throne of lies’ and beef was said? He paid attention after the words exchanged devolved into a fight. Ken seemingly ducked in anticipation of blows that wouldn’t hit him and held onto his girlfriend tighter. She reassuringly patted his shoulder and that seemed to settle him enough to keep going with the movie.

“Oh, this is my favorite scene.” She kissed his cheek as the girl that Mr. Mattel was into during the movie, stood on a horse carriage and started singing. “I don’t know why but it always made me tear up.” 

He watched quietly for her and she hummed along to the song. “Santa Claus is coming to town…”

“He knows when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake.” Ken saw the tears collecting at the corner of her eyes. He wiped the little things away for her and she smiled as Buddy took off with Santa Claus, wishing ‘bye’ to his friends and family in New York. “Okay, so what did you think Ken?”

“It was cute.” He smiled, “But not nearly as cute as you.”

“You’re too sweet.” She kissed his nose, “But I’m glad you liked it.”

“So… Can we watch another one?” He smiled, “Anything Christmas.”

“Okay. Let’s watch ‘Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer’.”

[amethysttribble]

I'm rereading Everlasting Song in honor of the new chapter update (love it great job!!!) and thing I never noticed before: Do people assume that Maglor and Maedhros are lovers? Like Oberyn/Doran and others? As the explanation for why they are so close/devoted to each other? And, I really should have noticed this earlier, are the boys like well known for being super attractive since they are reborn elves which makes them hot and honorable? (With an approx least honorable elf = most honorable man in westeros metric) Is Varys considering this in his hot talented men who have show no interest in women conspiracy??????? (Curufins cute crush aside)

Thank you so much for this ask! It made me laugh so hard, sorry for the late reply.

Haha, yes; quite a few people think Maedhros Tully and Maglor Sand are lovers. I'm not surprised you didn't notice as it's a joke I play with very quietly, but it's there.

It's kinda a common rumor/salacious bit of gossip that's spread around, especially in Renly and Loras's circles and then also Edmure's circle.

Renly tells everyone that they're together (he has no proof of this), Loras maintains that 'perfect lord and knight Maedhros' hasn't 'realized' but does subconsciously return Maglor's feelings, while poor Mags is being strung along.

Littlefinger is also a hateful little gossip, and he actually refutes the rumor, saying he has a DIRECT line to Maedhros, there's no way he has a lover, he'd KNOW. Maedhros would come to him first if he was looking to dally. No no, he's much too uptight.

Meanwhile, Edmure HATES Maglor, because he has a general beef with singers and he's jealous that this random bastard is stealing his brother's time. He also thinks his brother could do much better, Edmure knows very accomplished knights of similar 'inclinations', what's so special about Maglor, anyway?

But after he finds Maedhros weeping on the floor about Maglor's 'death', he's extremely kind and sympathetic. He's goes to Cat and is like, "Here's the deal, sis, our brother's boytoy is dead and he's devasted as only two men bonded homoerotically can be, it’s a warrior’s bond” and Cat's trying to calculate all that in her head with everything she just learned about Maedhros's 'Fin', and suffice to say the two of them have had QUITE the background conversation about Maedhros's love life.

Oberyn and the Sand Snakes USED to think that Maglor was massively in love with Maedhros. Oberyn has tried to have a few conversations with him about it, to say nothing of his sisters, who were annoying about it, haha. But eventually they all got the hint that Maglor isn't lying, he's serious when he says he loves Maedhros as a brother, it's not like that, and also he's not interested in a relationship with anyone, actually.

This was a hard pill for Oberyn to swallow, lol. I think he's still doing the mental calculus about it, actually, but he's reached the 'if you say so' stage of acceptance, where he doesn't get it, but he's not questioning it.

And yes, the boys are all considered quite tall for Westerosi men (tho they certainly aren't their Elven heights) and pretty damn good looking (tho, again, not in an Elven way - their features have been adjusted. If you were to put portraits of the elf boys and the westeros boys next to each other, there'd be a pretty stark difference, even if it would still be obvious they're the same people). I do think the hotness is scaled, tho.

Celegorm 'the Fair' and Maedhros 'Well-Made' were the hot ones in Valinor, and remain such here (once Celegorm was older and knighted and the two of them were traipsing around the Riverlands together, they must have been a dangerous pair to look at, haha), while the rest of the boys are generally above average. But it's not like they're all a bunch of super models.

But Varys is kinda like ??? about the whole thing, because it is a pattern. I don't think he pays too much attention to the women thing, because his notes look like this-

Maedhros - Gay. Sad.

Maglor - ??? Sneaky. Visits brothels but does not buy. (His spy methods remind Varys of himself, so he doesn't think its weird)

Celegorm - Has the Ned Stark Raised Bastard Trauma, is terrified of conceiving.

Caranthir - Slut (Caranthir is interested in women! As mentioned in his last North to South chapter, he's had a handful of 'friends w/ benefits' in the Red Keep who he's gone to third base with; he was really hoping Arianne would take his 'virginity' lol, since there was no threat to her reputation, but alas. Politics.)

Curufin - Crush on Lady Sansa

Amras and Amrod - Nine Years Old

But they do all still clock as weird, as not one of them does the typical Westerosi man thing of going to brothels or participate in that culture. Not even Caranthir. He has consensual relationships with lower status women with clearly communicated boundaries and expectations. I think he might be the most suspicious one all, actually.

Thanks again for this ask!!

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 26

Do you ever write a chapter and just...hate it?

That was this chapter and I've been working and reworking it over and over again and this morning it finally clicked what I was missing and so I hope you enjoy this chapter more than I do, because I have beef with this chapter.

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23 Content Warnings: unhealthy parent dynamics All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil.

Altan POV

“So,” I began, trying my best not to fidget, “How do you find Berdusk?” 

The Lady Allara seemed to be a timid creature, we had been walking along the grounds for at least an hour and conversation was dreadfully, painfully slow. Some might be surprised to know that her conversation skills were inferior to that of orcs. 

“Oh, it’s quite nice.” She replied, blinking her wide eyes at me. She had an uncanny gaze that never strayed from my face. I could never tell if she was pleased when she looked at me, or simply frightened out of her mind, either way her wide, globulous eyes and her open mouth smile never was not on me.

There truly was no time to be amused by anything, but I couldn’t help but think that Drun would find her just as unsettling as I, and there was some warm comfort in that. Despite the distance and not knowing his condition, I still felt him near me. He was in my every waking thought and motivated every breath I took. He would return to me, that I was determined, and in the meantime I forced myself to believe that all was well and that what I was doing was enough.

I looked behind me and bit back the sigh I wanted to release when I locked eyes with the guards who followed us close behind. 

Earlier that day, Commander Gideon had only just left before those same guards  had returned with the servants to prepare me for the day. Since then, they had not left my sight, even within the privacy of my own room. It took much wailing and gnashing of teeth to convince them to let me bathe without one of them watching me. The absolute perverts.

“Do you miss Triel?” I asked Allara. “You’ve been gone almost a fortnight, is that correct?”

She shrugged, “I’m content to go where father takes me.”

Odd answer. I looked over at her again. Her expression was vacant of most any emotion. She didn’t look anywhere but me, in fact I don’t think she had looked out at the gardens once.

“My mother started this garden, you know.” I changed the subject. “She brought seeds from her homeland, isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yes, quite.” She neither blinked nor looked away from me, not even once. 

I swallowed thickly. “My lady, is everything alright?”

“Perfectly.” She said, “And you?”

I narrowed my eyes while I looked back at the guards, “The same, I suppose.” I said vacantly. They wouldn’t give away anything. Even if they knew, they’re helmets concealed too much of their face to even help.

“How about some tea?” I asked. I needed to distract myself from her and a drink and something sweet to eat from the kitchen seemed like a good idea.

“Whatever you wish, my lord.” She said, “That sounds perfectly splendid.”

“Do you like tea?”

“Oh yes.” She bowed her head.

“Hmmm.” I nodded softly. I clasped my hands behind my back as I led her and the two guards behind us back into the interior of the Great Hall. I glanced back one last time to the gardens, appreciating the work that had been done to keep my mother’s plants alive. Someday, Drun would see it, I vowed.

The kitchens were pleasantly warm and quite busy when we entered. The head cook glanced up and nodded sagely when I walked in. They were used to my brothers and I coming in after our studies to enjoy a sweet treat with some tea. It was a safe space amongst so few of them and the cook was always kind even though I had never seen them speak a word in all my time knowing them.

They moved quickly to set two seats for myself and Allara to rest and then placed a setting for each of us to receive tea. A kettle was already beginning to boil.

“My lord, what a surprise!” I turned and gasped when I saw in the corner the large shadowy shape of a Dragonborn. How had I not seen them there? Doxxah was carrying a tray of baked goods, steam still rising from them.

“Doxxah! Wonderful to see you.” I said. I gestured for Lady Allara to take a seat, which she obliged with no objection. I stepped away, closer to my old friend.

“Likewise my lord, though a bit unexpected.” Doxxah gave a knowing stare. “Would you care to help me?”

I glanced at my fiance, who sat contentedly on her chair, her feet swinging slightly back and forth. From my distance it even seemed she had more of a natural smile on her face as she held her cup of tea. I turned back to Doxxah and nodded, “I would be honoured to help.”

 “How is the Lady Allara?” Doxxah’s voice was soft, not carrying above the sounds of the kitchen in use. We both glanced over at her, but the girl did not seem to notice the conversation being about her.

“Odd.” I said. “But not unkind.”

They nodded in acknowledgement. “And how is your paramour?”

“I do not know.” I answered. I glanced at the guards standing at the door. “I am…a bit stuck.”

They nodded. “Take heart, my lord, things will work out.” They placed a clawed hand upon my shoulder and winked. “You have many who are eager to see you happy.”

I bowed my head, “I know that, I am grateful.”

“There’s a but in there.” They said.

“But what if even after everything, my happiness can never be mine?”

“Hmmm, an honest question.” They reached for the last tray they had that had rows of steaming cinnamon rolls. I reached and pulled them from the tray and onto the serving plates on the table next to us. “Truly I am not the right person for this question, for I am ever the optimist. If you are not happy, my lord, then that is not your ending. Do not settle until then.”

“But what if he’s gone?” I breathed. I wasn’t certain if they could even hear me. To utter my greatest fear aloud, that Drunrag might be dead without my knowing, haunted me. I was suddenly shivering where I stood.

“Oh my young lord.” Doxxah lifted a plate with a roll on it and placed it into my hand. “Do not dwell on what we do not know. Take heart and in the meantime, warm your stomach with what is good. I have to be going, but I am always nearby.” They bared their teeth in a friendly, but also quite ferocious grin directed at the guards. They lifted their stack of trays and waved to the cook who was already working on a different dish before they made their way out of the kitchen.

I sighed. I supposed Doxxah was right. I had no way of knowing and thinking about it so obsessively made no difference. I needed to follow through on my plan. 

If I’m not happy, then it’s not the end. Not yet.

Lady Allara didn’t react as if I had even stepped away when I sidled into the seat next to her and placed a plate with her own cinnamon roll in front of her. “For you.” I said. 

Her eyes locked onto me, a sudden passing expression of fear on her gaze. “You are very kind.” She said, her voice was lower than normal, more mellow and somber. “I’m sorry.” she whispered.

“Sorry?” I asked. “Whatever for?”

She looked down into the bottom of her cup. “Our parents aren’t very honest people, are they?”

I drew my hands back from the table and onto my lap. “Allara, is there something you know that I don’t?”

Her hands were shaking and she couldn’t meet my eyes. 

“Whatever you can do, don’t play their game.” She finally met my gaze. There was hate and rage in those eyes, her demure appearance shed away to reveal a creature filled with spite and revenge.  “My father and your father…they each hold each other in a chokehold of secrets. There would be no reason for a wedding if those secrets were conveniently revealed.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How might one go about that?” 

The doors suddenly burst open and I jumped, I spun in my seat and looked down at my uneaten pastry.

“There you are!” The Duke of Triel exclaimed, my father just at his heels. “We thought you two would be in the garden. We had to search all over to find you.” His voice was jovial, but when I spared a stare I caught a sharpness in his stare as he closed the distance between himself and his daughter.

“I should have known you’d show her your favourite haunts, son.” My father smirked, but it was not a kind one. “But at this hour? It is only an hour before suppertime.”

“My daughter tends to have an upset stomach if she’s consumed too many sweets before a meal. She’s probably got some shaking in her. Ah yes, there it is. Come my love.” The Duke of Triel spoke quickly as he ushered towards the young woman and pulled her away from her seat. I watched as her eyes met mine. There was nothing vacant or uncanny in them. They were alert and locked onto me and then, the duke’s hands were on her and she was dragged away and soon out of my sight.

Did they truly think I was an idiot to not see what was happening here? I looked over to my father, glaring.

“Any particular reason you’re so displeased with me today, son?” He asked dryly, “Or is it the same as usual?”

“What are you doing to her?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” My father asked. All innocence in his tone. 

I rose to my feet. “You’re both up to something, and we’re being used as your pawns. I won’t accept such dishonesty, especially from you. It’s time we stop following in the steps of our forefathers. Look where it got you. Where it got our whole family. If I am to take your place as Duke, I will set the precedent now that this will not continue.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure what you’re seeing that’s making you so upset, son. I expect a bit more congenial attitude at supper. And you better be dressed.” Was my father’s only response before he turned and walked out.

I slumped back into my chair and looked down at my tea and cinnamon roll, both still warm. I took a bite and felt the hot buttery bread soften and melt in my mouth, cinnamon pervading any other flavor. I suddenly felt hot tears on my face. 

“Drun.” I said under my breath, burying my face into my hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing without you.”

I should have hurried back to my quarters to dress for supper, but I held back for as long as I could. I savored each bite of the pastry, and then slowly sucking the icing and cinnamon off of my fingers. I imagined another world where Drunrag was sitting next to me, sitting on his hands as he expectantly watched me try something Doxxah taught him how to bake. I showered him with praises and let him lick the sugar on my lips before kissing me deeply. 

My stomach twisted at the sight of it all. If only it could be so blissful. More tears spilled over.

“Brother.” 

I raised my head and Selhar had taken Allara’s empty seat. His eyes were wide with concern. 

“I’m fine.” I said, “Just thinking too much.” I sat up straight and wiped my hands clean. “Will you be at supper?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s just for you and Allara and the Duke. Father insisted on privacy.” He dropped his bottom lip. “Whose pastry is this?” He suddenly asked, a touch of his young childhood whine snuck into his voice as he looked down at the roll before him.

“Yours, if you want it.” I sniffed and wiped my nose. “Lady Allara was meant to eat it, but she had somewhere else to be.”

“But I think this might be yours.” He said, sliding out a small slip of paper from beneath the plate. In small, loopy script was written, “Altan.”

Selhar kept an eye on me as I unfolded the slip, but his mouth was already full of the warm roll. 

Altan,

I don’t know if I will ever have the presence of mind to give this to you, but you must know the truth from my side. You and I are victims of dishonorable men who happen to be our fathers. Neither of us want this marriage, I’m aware. So let us help one another. 

My father, the Duke of Triel, is the father of at least five illegitimate children. There may be more. I have in here included the names of those I was able to track down. Since my father discovered my knowledge of them, he has kept me drugged so that I will not reveal his secret. But you may be able to do something with this information.

Lastly, even when I am under the influence of the herbs my father forces on me, I am still aware of many things. I’ve heard our fathers speak about the underground guild known as the Red Hunters. I have always understood them to be a neutral force that is swayed by whatever is the stronger power. At this time, the Red Hunters and your father’s partnership is built upon a common enemy: the orcs that reside in the Fields of the Dead. The Red Hunters are promised a share of those lands after the orcs have been cleansed and your father intends to use the rest to expand the Trade routes that exist beyond Triel and Berdusk. Perhaps a bargain can be struck if you can offer something greater.

Should we both remain in the chains our fathers built for us, please know that I will not hold any ill will towards you.

Yours, 

Allara

I passed the note to Selhar and rose to my feet. “See if you can get this to who it needs to. I have to go.” I reached for his head and tussled it lightly. I didn’t dare say anything else with the present company, but I met his stare and we each shared a nervous smile. “And take a sweet to Robin. He’d like that.”

Things would be alright, I thought to myself, I still had my brothers to look after. Drunrag haunted my every thought, but I had to be realistic. My brothers were just as important and I would not abandon them.

The dining hall was vacant of any guests except for myself, Allara, The Duke of Triel and my own father, the Duke of Berdusk. It was a small, intimate dinner arrangement that only took up one end of a very elongated table. I wished that Selhar and Robin could be there, if only to distract me from the uncomfortable stare I would get from the three other guests.

Allara’s expression had returned to its vacant, empty stare and she answered everything with the same politeness and poise that I was familiar with. I searched for some sign of that trembling, human girl beneath, but whatever the Duke had done to her had suppressed her completely. I eyed the Duke cautiously as he sat across and to the right of me.

In a rare act of humbleness, my father had left the head of the table vacant to sit next to me on my right and across from the Duke of Triel. It certainly gave the appearance of two happy families preparing for a joyous wedding amongst friends.

It was just so far from that when we all knew that Allara and I were being used as toys in a game that we never were explained the rules to. And one of us wasn’t even given the presence of mind to fight back.

The food in front of me was decadent and elaborate, I envisioned the cook when I had seen them earlier that day, bustling from one end of the kitchen to the other. It was a wonder they managed to make it all on their own. But the passing thought that I kept coming to was fear that maybe if I took a bite, I too, would end up just like Allara, caught in a web that put me exactly where my father wanted me to be. Compliant, pleasant, obedient to his every desire.

“Something the matter?” My father asked under his breath. 

I looked over to him, blinking.

“You haven’t taken a single bite.”

Certainly words like that ease one’s worries when they believe they’re about to be poisoned. I felt my stomach as it twisted and I took a spoonful up to my lips and prayed silently to the gods that I would somehow be spared. Oh gods, spare me.

I waited for the inevitable to happen as I slowly chewed and swallowed the warm food. My father didn’t glance over in my direction as I held my breath and waited.

Nothing happened, thank gods.

“So, Altan.” The Duke Triel asked. “Your father and I took some time to discuss wedding dates. We believe sooner is better than later. What with kidnappings and other dangers about, we believe it’s best to heighten security and quicken the pace.”

“Is this something that can be negotiated?” I asked.

I felt a harsh boot jam into my foot below the table. I didn’t flinch or look away from the Duke of Triel.

“Well…is there a reason you would like to wait?” He asked.

“Oh yes, you see. I don’t think marrying so quickly is a competent choice on either of your parts. If such dangers are causing risk to myself and my betrothed, then such dangers also exist for our people. Until we can assure competent security and my kidnapper is brought before me, the wedding will not happen.”

“Son.” My father’s voice was tightlipped and forced. “This is not the time nor place.”

“Is it not?” I asked. “I was under the impression that you expected me to become the next Duke, what with all of those council meetings I was forced to attend. Should I not be thinking about the greater good for our people, and yours?” I nodded to the Triels. “I doubt a single council member would disagree that safety is our upmost priority, not secrecy. The people will want to celebrate this wedding, and I will have that for them, especially after so many years they’ve spent grieving the loss of our Duchess. But if you had wished me to be submissive as before, perhaps you should have expressed your intentions differently.”

Neither Duke spoke, which let me continue, “And seeing how between myself and Alarra, I seem to be the only cognizant one present in a conversation, I suppose the decision is left up to me, isn’t it my betrothed?” I asked sweetly. 

“Whatever you wish, my lord.” She responded with her saccharine tongue. “I am happy to be by your side.”

I grinned. “See?”

“She has not been well, my lord.” Her father replied.

“That’s apparent.” I sniffed with contempt. “I promise the both of you, that whatever secrets you have hidden so deep beneath your fine coats and thick necks, I will expose the both of you, unless you promise me my kidnapper returned to me alive.”

“An empty threat son.” My father said, “End the theatrics now.”

I turned sharply to face him. “Is it? You don’t know what I know. Two can play this game father, and you were such a good teacher.” I said, my grin widening. I rose to my feet. “But the game will end and when it does, I hope your names are sent straight to the nine hells.”

I didn’t wait to be excused, nor did I look back to see their faces.  Half of the battle was convincing them that I was worth being feared, intimidated by and carrying the confidence to not care what they thought. 

I stepped out into the hall and let out a deep breath. I predicted that things would likely get worse before they got better, but I was determined to see this through.

I was followed back to my chambers with an extra guard in tow. I glanced back at them and winked before stepping into my room and hearing one of them following in behind me. 

I was surprised to find Robin asleep on my bed. His face had sticky bits of frosting on his cheek. He looked peaceful. I let out a sigh. There would be no rest for me, not yet.

Want to be updated on new chapters? DM me to be added to the tag list!

@eltrolodecadadia

@sizzlinghideoutcoffee

@carjis

[bloodiedrogue]

I CANT BELIEVE I MISSED SHOW AND TAV! you best believe i have yet another tav to talk about. i am infected with OC disease i cant stop making them.

(keeping it brief this round because its like 4am.)

here is my half-elf durge sunny (short for sunshine)! nobody bothered giving him a proper name as a child, instead he was mostly referred to as simply The Dark Urge, or Bhaals Chosen. he couldnt remember being called anything when he woke up from the nautiloid though, so introducing himself was kind of awkward. the lack of name troubled dear shadowheart so she insisted on calling him something. sunshine started off as a sarcastic nickname (i mean look at the guy he is 6'5, jacked as hell and has the worlds worst resting bitch face) but it caught on. even sunny himself starts to introduce himself as 'sunny'. i always think its hilarious to imagine someone asking him what sunny is short for and this big hunk of beef having to answer 'sunshine.' with a straight face.

his romance is a little complicated.. he definitely has feelings for shadowheart throughout the events of the game. but after dealing with the urges and the tadpole and gortash and orin and bhaal.... this guy is just a (barely) living wreck. whatever relationship they had beforehand is practically decimated halfway through act 3 because sunny just cuts himself off completely from shadowheart. he starts sleeping around (literally anything with a pulse. i think they should neuter this guy) and just generally avoiding any sort of committment or relationship of any kind. not necessarily out of malice but out of fear? protection? he just thinks shadowheart is better without having to worry about him all the time. he is fully aware of how poorly he is put together and he doesn't want shadowheart to keep picking up the pieces. this dude also has 0 communication skills (what being raised in a murder temple does to a mf) and is scared of his own feelings. anything not related to murder and blood is new to him and he does NOT want to deal with it. i also think meeting gortash has a real effect here...coming face to face with an ex-lover and realising just how fucked up your relationship was is sure to make you rethink a few things.

the game ends and sunny is left in limbo. like here is a guy who was sculpted from bhaals own flesh to be the last man left alive and is now just let loose into the world with no idea who he is. he isn't like the rest, he was never a person before all this. he wasn't made to be a person. does he even have the right to be a person after everything he has done in bhaals name? he goes to helpsastarion in the underdark. both because he and astarion are very close friensd but also because he believes that helping the 7,000 spawn acts as some sort off repentance. the idea of sunny and astarion being in charge by themselves is actually kind of terrifying but i think they'd manage okay... they'd be good for each other i think. i'd like to think that after some well deserved healing and reflection that they might end up together... there was definitely an initial chemistry but they were both a little too bonkers to do anything about it. only after they have taken the time to figure themselves out though... i just want them to be happy. i also like to think that shadowheart and nocturne are a happy couple after the game because I'll be damned if she doesn't get her happy ending too.

(i lied about keeping it brief.)

okay, he may be big and spooky because of the dark urge stuff but deep down in my heart that guy is the definition of a sunshine. look at that cute face!

also absolutely love his character arc and the hardships he goes through. they definitely feel really true to how i feel a redeemed durge would end up reacting. especially in regards to relationships.

shame about him and shadowheart! but glad he potentially finds a partner in astarion because that poor vamp needs some loving too 😤💚

[veatomis]

HI BESTIE <3333 gimme 6, 11, 13 & 16 for the veilguard asks <3 and 2. for fun

love to be in a dragon age yapping era with you bestie <3

2. Which Dragon Age game is your favorite so far?

..... Inquisition alright. it's inquisition. I believe it's objectively the worst game of all three and yet... the concept of a forced chosen one, the entire business with the anchor, dorian pavus..... they speak to me in ways that are detrimental to my health <3

6. Do you have your Rook(s) planned out to any degree? If so, would you share some details or ideas you have?

Yes you already know a bit about this <3 The main things i have in mind are mage rook, gay guy adjacent, most likely city elf but depending on the options i could be convinced to go for yet another dalish protagonist, joint lucanis/davrin romancer and the thing i'm most conflicted about right now is their faction. Antivan crow would work so well with lucanis' whole thing + my idea of making rook some flavor of hispanic but being from the shadow dragons or the mourn watch looks really cool and i think would fit better a mage rook. We'll see what i end up going for.

11. What's one thing you'd really like to see in this next game?

I need so much from this game but tied for number 1 is solas being irrevocably a villain. he needs to be doing bad shit the entire game so that a potential path to redemption is extremely arduous for him AND i also need an inquisitor/solas confrontation i need it i need it i need it. i need arihs to wreck his shit i need arihs to be able to call him a hypocrite to his face i need solas to look like a kicked puppy because one of the closest people to him absolutely hates his guts and can't stand to be near him. i need everything they didn't give me in trespasser. i need arihs to discuss IN DETAIL how much the anchor and losing an arm fucked with him. i need solas to feel TRUE remorse for someone and something other than elvhenan. i need him to see the tangible ways in which his decisions have hurt people in THIS current time.

13. What's one thing you've seen confirmed so far that you're a fan of?

I'm already obsessed with the places we'll get to see, I'm going to have so much fun exploring the nevarran necropolis and minrathous and arlathan. I also love that we'll get to see two of the other evanuris, i just hope that they're not mindless beasts or villains like corypheus, if they end up casting doubts on solas' story and they are somewhat compassionate characters too I will love this game forever and ever.

16. What's one crack theory you subscribe to (yours or someone else's)?

This isn't necessarily dav related because it hasn't been confirmed if the other evanuris is June but this is me manifesting <3 In my heart of hearts i know June is actually a decent guy <3 he's the god we know the least about because in my mind he just didn't fuck that much with the rest of the evanuris and he did his own thing. i also know he and solas have crazy beef. i know they hate each other's guts i know it.

ask me things about veilguard <3

[peculiarphantomphoenix]

315

He looked so terrible, almost as if that person who had been happily laughing seconds prior had never been there.

He had never looked so bad before.

“Rosalyn, I’ll do it.”

Choi Han had approached them at some point and was reaching his hand out while saying that he would support Cale.

Rosalyn sighed and was about to hand Cale over to Choi Han when someone else stepped in.

“… Eruhaben-nim.”

The ancient Dragon Eruhaben easily supported Cale.

No, he picked Cale up and put him over his shoulder.

“Eruhaben-nim! Cale-nim is in a dangerous state right now!”

Choi Han’s shocked shout reached both the enemies and the allies.

Litana was approaching the pale Cale.

“I will carry him. It is my job as his guard.”

It was as the Dark Elf Tasha tightly closed her eyes and opened them back with a bitter expression on her face after seeing Choi Han’s concerned and worried expression.

‘Is he crazy? Why is he carrying me?

I’m not in danger!’

Cale tried to fervently shake his head while being carried on Eruhaben’s shoulder. However, his body shook for a moment before his head weakly fell.

‘Ah, so annoying.’

He was extremely annoyed right now.

Cale barely managed to open his mouth, but he could not speak properly. He only managed to weakly say a few words.

“I’m… hung……”

The ancient Dragon was able to hear that quiet voice clearly.

“Tsk, you poor bastard. You seem to have been possessed by a ghost who starved to death now that your plate is better.”

‘Hooray for Dragons!’

Cale was extremely happy. Eruhaben had instantly figured out his condition.

He truly did have a starved ghost possessing him.

– I’m hungry. I’m hungry because I used my powers.

The glutton was continuously nagging Cale in his mind.

– We used our power to make the tree trunks grow. I have no strength left.

There really was no strength left in Cale’s body.

He was also really hungry. He felt as if he needed to eat something in order to be able to do anything.

– Human! I have a lot of apple pies!

Cale ignored Raon’s comments. He’ll eat it because a child was giving it to him, but he wanted something greasy right now.

“…B…..”

“Yes, beef.”

“…P-”

“Yes, we’ll get you some pork too.”

‘Ah, this is truly the wonders of experience.’

Cale lowered his head after admiring how Eruhaben could understand what he was trying to say.

Rosalyn and Choi Han were looking at Eruhaben. They seemed to be asking him to explain. The ancient Dragon nodded his head and started to speak.

“Let’s finish things up.”

“Excuse me?”

Eruhaben put a smile on his beautiful face as Rosalyn asked back in confusion.

“We all need to finish our tasks since the night is ending.”

Cale was thinking to himself while drooping on Eruhaben’s shoulder.

‘Ah, the wisdom of the old.’

Eruhaben was right to say that they needed to finish things up.

Pat. Pat.

Cale could feel someone patting his back.

“Get some rest. You unlucky bastard.”

– He’s right! Human, rest like Goldie gramps is saying!

‘…No.’

Cale wanted to shake his head.

‘No… give me some food first.

I’m hungry.

Damn it.’

Cale closed his eyes. He felt as if he should just get some sleep.

There were talented people and Dragons present, so they should be able to take care of the rest.

Cale instantly fell asleep.

[amporella]

kenny kyle for the character bingo 🧡💚🧡💚

GOOD PICKS AS ALWAYS!! Here they are, starting with Kyle; I'm putting Kenny in a separate post because I like to ramble but I don't want to squish him in under the cut </3

Everybody knows that I love Kyle. He's my favorite like 60% of the time, and he's my second favorite the rest of the time. I have absolutely endless thoughts on him as I'm sure anybody who's been following me for a while knows, so I'm going to try not to ramble TOO hard and I'm instead going to address the specific squares that I picked on the bingo board to try and keep this organized.

First of all, his default appearance isn't COOL looking, but he is freaking cute, which I feel counts? I just love his design in general, ugh, the hair contrasts so nicely with his outfit, it's adorable, and his Post-Covid look is literally perfect. I was so delighted when I saw how well groomed he is!!! And his fancy shoes... GNC icon Kyle Broflovski lives on into his fifties. I think you'd be very hard pressed to call his TFBW outfit 'cool', but he obviously put SO much effort into it which is charming in and of itself, and his SOT outfit IS actually cool. Elf King Kyle is my favorite character design of his (and maybe my favorite out of the whole series?); it is so good. Regardless of how much SOT content people make (and there is a lot of amazing stuff out there), there will never be enough to sate my SOT heart.

I do think he's deeper than he seems, but I think that applies for all South Park characters? The average viewer is frankly not going to be exploring any character's decisions beyond trying to guess the next joke in an episode, so the fact that meta CAN be written for him (and every other character) implies that he does have depths that aren't readily apparent to everyone.

I am obviously extremely pro fanon interpretation, but that being said, I do think Kyle has been done dirty, though most certainly not because he was turned into an 'uwu twink character' or whatever the most recent, endlessly repeatable claim about fanon Kyle is. Kyle's obviously faced extreme amounts of antisemitism in the show, and that's leaked over pretty noticeably into the fandom; you don't have to look far for someone blaming Kyle for Cartman's actions, or trying to defend Cartman (I will kill someone if I see people try to deny he's a nazi one more time), or bastardizing his character in some other absolutely evil, antisemitic way. This is obviously by far the most severe way he's mistreated by the fandom, but I also have some beef with interpretations from people who claim to like him, and weirdly enough, they often end up being part of the previous category? I fucking love Kyle, and I still think that some people who love him an equal amount are insane, especially when it comes to projection. I have never met a self described Kyle kinnie who was even remotely similar to Kyle. Maybe I just haven’t interacted closely enough with any of them, but it honestly feels kind of like a curse sometimes? In my experience, the moment you decide that you ARE a character, or are so similar to a character that you two are essentially indistinguishable, you lose your credibility in being able to talk about them objectively.

I think Kyle works amazingly on his own, but I honestly DO think he works better as a part of style; both from a viewers perspective and from a character analysis perspective. Style interactions obviously melt my style heart, so I'm extremely biased towards episodes involving the two of them, but the other reason I chose that square was because Kyle canonically DOES function better with Stan around than he does without him. Cue me going into a tangent about Post-Covid etc etc etc, but seriously, it's canon. He is a more functional character when he has Stan to balance him out, and to me personally, he's an even more entertaining character than he already is when he's with Stan. The same thing goes for Stan! The two of them are so irreparably intertwined with each other that separating them truly just doesn't feel right.

And yes. He has not done anything wrong, ever. You'll find that I have this opinion for most of the kids on the show, because honestly, unless they're a legitimate nazi, I refuse to cast moral judgement on these ten year olds who keep getting cast into situations that ten year olds should not be in.

Thank you so much for the ask minty!! <3 I'll post the Kenny half soon!

[random-imagines-blog]

4 AM {Cedric Diggory x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3665 Summary: You’re a transfer student at Hogwarts, and all of these changes are feeling restless. You develop a late-night hobby, but a handsome Hufflepuff catches on.

Everybody needed a bit of time to adjust to new surroundings, like a new school. You took a bit of extra time, considering you were in a new continent, a new culture, a new school and a new house on top of all of it. Transferring from Ilvermorny was a tough thing to do, but you did it at the insistence of your parents, who felt that being at Hogwarts under Albus Dumbledore was far better than your old situation. Much safer, they had put it, despite the Chamber of Secrets and Quirrel and Sirius Black. But hey - safety right? At least there was the opportunity to meet new people, something that you liked doing. And maybe you could pick up a cool British accent while you’re over here. They always sounded so sophisticated, while your American accent was just ... American.

You had been sorted privately into the Slytherin house, which sounded well and good until you reached the common room. It was a bit dreary, you thought. Too much leather on these couches, not enough comfortable fabrics. You became too nervous to sit down in case the seats would squeak and make people think that you had farted. The other Slytherins weren’t the most welcoming, and they didn’t give you a hand as you brought your bags up the staircase to your dormitory. You had to use magic to get them there. The most that you had been given were a couple of side glances. This wasn’t going to be as easy as you had hoped.

On your first night, you had a lot of trouble sleeping. Tossing and turning in the old fashioned four-poster bed. In America, waterbeds were in fashion and you had gotten used to the rolling feeling rather than the roughness of a mattress. It was a good thing that you brought a couple of pepper-up potions to take in the morning just in case this exact thing were to happen.

-

You had carefully chosen your classes for your sixth year. You planned on doing big things with your life after you had graduated, even if you weren’t sure exactly yet what these things were. You took many of the basics, Potions, DADA, Charms, Transfigurations, etc, but also some things like Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies. You didn’t plan on living among muggles, especially, but you loved the way that they did things. They found inventive ways to work around magic, and you always felt more accomplished when you did things in the muggle way. Especially your secret passion - baking.

A lot of your classes happened to be with the Hufflepuff house, who were a bit wary of you at first, but then became genuinely friendly, and much more welcoming than your own house. Despite the differences, you started to hang out with them more than the Slytherins, which didn’t make dorm life particularly comfortable at times. You still found it hard to sleep in there, and had taken to some night time wandering.

It might be the deviousness of the Slytherin house in you, but you figured out some ways to work around the patrols. If you didn’t leave the castle, you didn’t run the risk of running into Dementors. If you stayed in one place, such as a classroom or the kitchens, you were less likely to get caught by the prefects wandering the halls. You were also able to overhear Cedric Diggory, a handsome boy in your year, tell some fifth year prefects the better ways to go, so you now knew how to avoid them as well.

The kitchens were where you usually ended up going. In Muggle Studies at your old school, you learned a lot about how they baked and they cooked without magic. It wasn’t instant, the way that magic was. You buy a roast, you do a cooking spell, and boom - perfectly cooked beef every time. There were spells to whip the potatoes into the perfect peaks, spells to make icing the perfect consistency for cupcakes, even spells for chopping vegetables if you were feeling lazy. The House Elves in these kitchens didn’t use these spells, they did things more by hand, and it was fascinating to watch. You started coming in on these restless nights as they were making bread for the morning’s toast, and one elf in particular was eager to show you how she did it.

“Then you kneed it like this!” She said in a high-pitched voice, showing you with her bony hands. She moved over so that you could give it a try. The dough was surprisingly warm, and pliable beneath your own fingers. You couldn’t help but smile as the feeling of it filled you with warmth. You could see why muggle bakers woke up as early as four in the morning to do all of this. The smells of the baking loaves wafted over to you and you took a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. You could spend all day in here, you decided. The only thing that was keeping you from doing so were your classes.

-

‘Why were you sneaking around last night?’

The note landed on your textbook as you were reading quietly in Transfiguration class. You hid it quickly beneath the book, looking around to try to see who sent it. Your eyes landed on Cedric, who was looking at you equally as closely. You turned away quickly, flushing. You didn’t think that anyone had seen you sneaking away from the kitchens this morning, going back to the dormitory before anyone else woke up. You had been certain that you were careful.

When McGonagall was seated at her desk, you took the note out and wrote back.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

As you signed the period, the note slipped away from under your quill, fell to the floor, whooshed it’s way to Cedric, seemed to climb up his desk and land on his own textbook. Seemed a little silly, you thought. You could have just handed it to him when the Professor was turned around instead of wasting a spell on it. You thought that the conversation was over and dealt with, when the note came right back to you again.

‘I saw you this morning, near my common room. What have you been up to?’

You scrunched your eyebrows and pursed your lips. There was a murderer on the loose, you knew that, hence the extra security measures but - did anyone really suspect you of having something to do with that? You hadn’t even heard of Sirius Black until you went to Diagon Alley for school supplies!

Rather than write anything back, you underlined the sentence that you had written before. The note didn’t seem happy with that, since it didn’t immediately rush back to Cedric. So you folded up the parchment, waited until an opportune moment, then tossed it over at Cedric. He was apparently not expecting that, because it bounced off his head and onto the floor. There were a few sniggers from other students, which caught McGonagall’s attention. Before she could see the note, Cedric had pressed his shoe over the top of it. She sniffled, then went back to reading, expecting the rest of the class to do the same.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he slid the note towards himself. When he finally read it, he glared at you, which made you feel uncomfortable. You weren’t ready to give up your baking secret, or even to admit you were breaking the rules for it was forbidden for a student to be out of bed after hours. But still - he couldn’t really suspect you of harboring a killer - could he?

-

You had taken a break from going to the kitchens at night, as much as it hurt you to do so. Now that you knew that the Hufflepuff Common Room was close to the kitchens, it felt too dangerous to do it. Especially with Cedric Diggory on the watch for you. You’d noticed him looking at you from time to time, during meals or class times. It felt less suspicious than your note passing in class, and more like - studying.

After a week had passed though, you couldn’t wait any longer. The house elf that you had befriended had told you that you could help her make cakes for dessert! Now that was something that you were interested in, since you thought maybe you’ve mastered bread. Waiting until the others in your dorm were sleeping, you slipped on your darkest robe and left the common room, making for some of the lesser-used stairs to get up to the kitchens. You would still have to pass the Hufflepuff portrait, though, there was no avoiding that. You stuck to the shadows as much as you could, and stopped often, looking behind you for a sign of prefects. The coast seemed clear.

You tickled the pear in the portrait, which giggled at being touched, then opened up to reveal the busy kitchens, getting ready for the morning ahead. Your friend, a house elf that barely reached your waist and was named Daisy, waved at you from by the massive fireplace which heated soups and stews for the whole castle. You started heading towards her when a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, keeping you in place. You figured out who it was before you even turned around.

“Cedric Diggory,” You groaned, turning around. His amber colored eyes took in the sight of you, dressed in your pajamas with a dark robe covering your body. You were planning to take it off and put on one of the aprons, but he hadn’t given you the time to do that yet. “Are you stalking me?”

“You don’t get to ask the questions. What are you doing in here?” He asked, looking around the kitchens now as if he had just realized what he had walked into. A house elf whistled happily as it walked by with a big baking pan, three loaves on it nearly tottering off. But he never lost his balance. “Why are we in the kitchens?”

“I know why I’m in the kitchens,” You said, pushing his hand off of your arm. You turned around to head over to Daisy. “As for you, I don’t know. I still think you’re stalking me.”

“A Slytherin who sneaks out after hours isn’t up to any good,” He said. You rolled your eyes at the stereotype - it was getting old already.

“Technically, I’m a Thunderbird, that will be always be my home house,” You explained, still feeling much more American than you were European. “So none of that evil snake business, thank you, badger.”

You walked towards your friend, smiling so as not to show that anything was wrong. House-elves could sometimes worry too much for their own good, and it could affect their work. You did not want Cedric’s following of you to cause an innocent student some food poisoning. You took her offered apron, and switched out your robes for it, folding down the front nicely. The Hufflepuff boy had hesitantly followed. He might not have trusted you, but he had faith in the house-elves that they wouldn’t do anything bad.

“So what are we doing today, Daisy?” You asked happily, approaching her counter. She was a cute little thing, dressed in a bright yellow smock with an apron over top.

“We are making cakes!” She said, clapping with excitement. It had taken you a little while to get used to her high-pitched voice, especially when she sang, which she often did while working. “Vanilla and strawberry because it’s almost Spring!”

She set you to work mixing ingredients while she measured them. You could see Cedric hovering out of the corner of your eye, unsure of what to make of all this. “Oh come on,” You said finally, not being able to take it any longer. The batter that you were working on was enough to make perhaps three cakes, but there would have to be much more than that before the day is through. “You can help with this, you know. Or are you scared of getting a little dirty?”

You put your fingers in flour and flicked some at him. It landed on his pajama shirt. He tried to wipe it off but it just made a white smear, which made you giggle. “I guess I might as well,” He said, finally letting his guard down. Daisy found him another apron, and set him about working on his own bowl of cake mix.

“No, no,” You said, seeing how fast he was mixing. It had even alarmed Daisy, who wouldn’t dare say anything bad about it. You could just gauge by how big her eyes got. “Slowly - you fold in the eggs, you don’t just ... make it go wild like that. We want a fluffier texture. There’s such a thing as over mixing, isn’t there Daisy?”

“That’s right!” She squeaked.

Cedric conceded. He went a little slower this time, taking your direction rather well. You added in the last bits of vanilla to the mix, then helped to measure them into the pans that Daisy had taken away to put into the oven. “What now?” He asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

“We do it again - unless you’re wanting to go and get a bit more sleep,” You shrugged. “Though that means you’re going to miss the best part.”

“And what’s that?” He asked, raising one of his bushy eyebrows. He didn’t have suspicion in his eyes anymore. In fact, you might almost say it looked like he was having fun.

“The decorating! Fresh strawberries, whipped cream, enough icing to send me into a sugar coma. Oh, it’s Heaven. I’ve been waiting for this day for weeks now.” You said, your mouth nearly watering as you thought about all of the treats that you were going to make. “And then, after dinner tonight, we’ll be at our tables and voila! Cakes! And nobody knows we helped to make them which makes it feel sneaky.”

“Knew there would be a catch,” Cedric said, picking up another mixing bowl since the other one had been taken away for cleaning. “I knew you were heading out at night for some reason. I just didn’t expect it to be this.”

“Oh, so just because I’m Slytherin, you think that I was up to no good?” You asked, feeling offended by his assumptions. You picked up a new mixing bowl as well, and a clean spoon.

“Well...” Cedric said, rubbing the back of his neck. You were both in an awkward waiting position until Daisy came back to measure ingredients once more. “How was I to know it would be this?”

“You could have asked rather than accusing me by note,” You shrugged, spinning the spoon around in your hands. You could smell some of the other bakers beginning to prepare the whipped icing that would be going on the cake. It was beginning to make your mouth water. They might as well be working with ambrosia, the food of the gods.

The little house elf did come running with her measuring cups to weight out ingredients and you were finally able to get back to work. Surprisingly, Cedric stayed. He stayed as the cakes were brought out of the oven and put to freeze to make them easier to ice. He stayed as you struggled with a piping bag, and ended up with frosting all over your apron.

“Stop laughing,” You said, as you saw that he was chuckling. He turned away but you could still feel his shoulders move. You glared at him, wiped a glob off your apron and onto your finger, then flicked it right at the back of his neck. That made him stop real quick. He turned back to look at you and you gave him your widest grin. “Oops.”

“No food fights, please!” Daisy wheezed, which put an end to whatever Cedric was thinking about. He wiped it off, onto his apron, then chuckled again.

“Yeah, no food fights,” He repeated to you, as if you were the one getting the scolding. You rolled your eyes, then went back to trying to get the piping bag right. You managed, without exploding it this time, and wasting the precious icing. Still though, you took little dallops of it off your apron and stuck it into your mouth, savoring the flavor.

“Has there ever been a food fight at Hogwarts?” You wondered allowed, stepping back to admire your handiwork. You could imagine one happening in the Great Hall, given how much food was in there on a constant basis. Cedric looked a little surprise that you were asking him in such a pleasant tone rather than the snippiness that you had been passing back and forth.

“A couple of years ago,” Cedric said, smiling as he thought about it. “You know the Weasley twins, from the Gryffindor Quidditch team? They started one in their first year. Now there’s a spell on the tables where it can’t happen anymore.”

“I hope Dumbledore forgets one year. Because now, I gotta start one.” You said, thinking that you had to talk to these twins about how they did it. And maybe a Ravenclaw for counter-spells.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Cedric said, winking at you over his own creation. His was a lot messier than yours, but it would hopefully taste good, that’s what was important. “Strawberries?”

“Strawberries,”  You affirmed. A house elf came over with a basket of the fresh fruit, just washed and shiny. You go to work with a knife now, which seemed a little dangerous. As you took it up to cut the leaves off, you looked over at Cedric. He already had the knife in hand and was chopping surprisingly well. He seemed to have some talent other than Quidditch and a winning smile. And - best of all, he seemed to trust that you weren’t going to attack with him the knife. Pretty big deal for a Slytherin.

When the cakes that you were making were finished, you took off the apron and stiffled a yawn. In the time that it had taken you and Cedric to make three a piece, house elves had finished a couple dozen. Yours and his weren’t as picture perfect as the others, but you were happy with your work nonetheless. “Alright, well, g’night...” You said, stretching as you went into the hallway. You could faintly see the sun beginning to rise through the window, the sky no longer black but a lighter shade of navy.

“This was fun,” Cedric admitted, turning to look at you, flour staining the front of his once-perfect robes where the apron didn’t cover. “You do this every night?”

“It’s usually just bread that I make,” You admitted. “The cake was much more fun than that. But bread is really cool, the way that it’s made with just the simplest things. I think I want to become a baker after graduating, but who knows...” You shrugged. The world was still a dark place. But surely that meant that there was going to be more of a need for baked goods to lighten the load and make people feel a little better.

“You’re great at it,” Cedric complimented. Well, that was a nice touch. The Golden boy of Hufflepuff was giving you a compliment, and making you feel a bit of the honeyglow.

“Thanks.” You said. You took a couple of steps down the hallway which would lead you to the stairs down towards the dungeons, but you stopped, turning around. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“No,” Cedric said, after taking a couple of seconds to think. “I might join you again sometime, though.”

“Well that’s fine then,” You said with a smile. “Goodnight, Cedric.”

“Good morning, y/n,” Cedric said, running his fingers through his hair once more, before turning himself to go to his own dormitory. You laughed as you watched him go, then hurried yourself along to get ready for the day.

-

At dessert the next night, you were surprised to see not one of the picture perfect cakes that the elves had made, but rather one of the haphazard ones that was definitely Cedric’s. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you saw the uneven strawberries and the frosting dripping over the sides. The Slytherin girl next to you commented on how it looked ‘like a child had made it’ and got up to go down the table to one of the nicer looking cakes.

You eagerly took a piece. The cake itself was perfection, it was just the uneven frosting that made it look a little wonky. As you cut into it, you looked over to the Hufflepuff table to catch eyes with the baker himself. He had one of your cakes in front of him, and had loaded two pieces onto his plate. He gave you his heart-melting smile and you returned the sentiment. You stabbed a piece of the cake onto your fork and held it up as if in cheers. He did the same.

It wasn’t the same as eating with him exactly, but it was nice nonetheless. You had become restless during the nights because of how homesick you were, and you found something which could become a life-long love. And, well, you really didn’t mind that Cedric was along for the ride.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #73: Santa Alter

This has been one of the longest weeks I’ve ever seen. I need a little Christmas, now. Fortunately, there’s one servant who can help with that, Santa Alter! Deliver presents to good kids, and excaliburings to bad ones, all from the back of your very own flying reindeer! (Reindeer sold separately)

Check out the breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Race and Background

Despite everything, Artoria is still a Human, giving her +1 to all stats. She may have the holy grail and the spirit of Christmas knocking around inside her, but that doesn’t change her physically. She’s a Knight of the Order, giving her proficiency with Persuasion and Arcana. 

Stats

Make sure your Strength is high, you’ll need it to lug around that giant sword. To be Santa, you have to be good at telling if someone’s naughty- Wisdom is a must. Your personality has mellowed out a little bit, but the prestige of being Santa means you still have some Charisma. Your Dexterity is lower than I’d like it- it might be a good idea to stay in your old spirit origin’s armor, maybe just wear a festive hat instead. Your Constitution is also pretty low, but we’re dumping Intelligence. You didn’t have much formal education, and what you did have came from Merlin.

Class Levels

1. Cleric 1: Santa is a shining light in the darkest part of the year so if you want to be him, a Twilight cleric is a good place to start. This gives you proficiency with Heavy Armor and Martial Weapons, Wisdom and Charisma saves, and Insight and Religion checks. You’ve got to be able to suss out someone’s true intentions, no matter how much charm magic they throw your way.

First level clerics can prepare Spells using their Wisdom Modifier. Twilight Clerics also get Eyes of Night, giving them 300′ of darkvision to pick out houses on your flight. You can also use your bonus action to give any number of creatures up to your wisdom modifier this darkvision for 1 hour. You can give your vision away once per long rest, or by burning spell slots. You can also bestow a Vigilant Blessing, giving one creature at a time advantage on their next initiative check as an action.

For your cantrips, Thaumaturgy is a great utility spell, and Guidance is a little gift you can give party members to help with checks. Not all your gifts are nice though, so grab Toll the Dead too.

You can prepare any spell you can cast on long rests, but you also get your domain spells, Faerie Fire and Sleep. The latter will definitely help keep any wandering children from noticing you at work. For other spells, Sanctuary and Cure Wounds are more gifts for the party, and Bane and Wrathful Smite are more “gifts” for your enemies.

2. Cleric 2: Second level clerics can Channel Divinity, giving you one of two options once per short rest. You can choose to Turn Undead like most clerics, or create a Silent Night with your Twilight Sanctuary. This uses your action to create a sphere of twilight around you for up to a minute. If a creature ends their turn in the sphere, they can gain one of two effects (or neither, if they’ve been naughty): they gain 1d6 Temporary HP, or you end one charm or frightening effect on them.

3. Cleric 3: Third level clerics get second level spells, including your domain spells Darkness and Invisibility, for Santa-level stealth. For more spells, Aid can increase your very small health pool, as well as the health of your party, and Continual Flame will create a light to help those members without darkvision. If you want to power game later, call Hold Person a freezing spell to hold a person in place and get guaranteed criticals on them.

4. Cleric 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to become a War Caster, letting you cast spells as attacks of opportunity, gain advantage on concentration saves, and cast somatic spells while holding weapons. There are other ways to cast spells while holding a sword, but his is faster. Plus, the advantage is really useful, given your low constitution. 

Also, pick up Mending to help repair any toys before you give them out. You don’t want to be giving people broken presents, do you? Wait, maybe you do...

5. Cleric 5: At fifth level, your Turn Undead can now Destroy Undead of CR rating 1/2 or less. You can also cast third level spells, like Leomund’s Tiny Hut if you want to build an igloo or Aura of Vitality for some cheap healthcare. For non domain spells, Tongues will help you become the international figure you are, and Bestow Curse is the next big advancement in naughty gifting technology. Why give coal when you can give curses?

6. Cleric 6: You can now use your Channel Divinity twice per rest, and your footprints are now the Steps of Night. If you’re standing in dim light or darkness, you can use your bonus action to gain a flying speed for one minute. You can use this a number of times per long rest equal to your proficiency bonus. (It’s been a while since last Christmas, but I’m pretty sure the reindeer is supposed to fly, right? Anyway.)

7. Warlock 1: Warlocks are kind of like clerics but edgier, and you’re all about that edge. If Santa was going to be any patron, my money would be on him being a Celestial; all about light and joy, that one. Taking the fat man up on his pact gives you Pact Magic, a separate set of spell slots, and Spells that are cast with Charisma. You also get a Healing Light, a couple d6 you can throw around to heal your allies as a bonus action. You regain your maximum of 1+ your warlock level dice after long rests, and can use up to your charisma modifier dice at once.

For cantrips, you get Light and Sacred Flame for free, but you also get Eldritch Blast to start up your Excalibur, and Prestidigitation to actually make some toys for once.

For spells, Expeditious Retreat will help you run like Rudolph, and Armor of Agathys will put a winter chill on any attackers.

8. Warlock 2: You get two Invocation at this level, but save one for level 3, it’s worth it. Right now though, you can grab Agonizing Blast to power up your Eldritch blast just a bit more. (If you want to be more true to character, replace this with Armor of Shadows so you can fight in a Santa suit.) You also get a Hellish Rebuke, in case they didn’t get the message with the ice last level.

9. Warlock 3: When you take the Pact of the Blade, you can summon a magical version of Excalibur as an action. You should also pick up Improved Pact Weapon using that invocation from last level to make it even stronger and count as a spell focus for you. Grab Mind Spike to deal a bit of psychic damage, and always know the target’s location for up to an hour. It doesn’t say if you know if they are sleeping or awake, but it’s probably safe to assume you do.

10. Warlock 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Strength for a better sword experience. For your spells, Minor Illusion will help you make some larger presents as long as the kids are gullible, and Crown of Madness is simply fun for all ages.

11. Cleric 7: Pick up your 4th level domain spells at this level. Aura of Life will keep those crybabies in your party alive, and Greater Invisibility will let you stab and sneak at the same time. For more spells, Freedom of Movement might let you go up a chimney.

12. Cleric 8: Use this ASI to round up your Constitution and Wisdom scores for stronger spells and stronger not dying. Destroy Undead now hits CR 1 creatures, and you gain a Divine Strike. Once per turn, you can add 1d8 Psychic damage to your weapon attacks. Maybe give them a doll while attacking them, that’ll throw them off their game.

13. Cleric 9: Ninth level clerics get 5th level spells. Your domain spells are Circle of Power, giving the give of evasion, and Dream will help you find the perfect gift for a target. To terrify them, if you want, dealing some psychic damage and disrupting their long rest. For even more spells, Scrying helps you actually tell if someone is sleeping or awake.

14. Cleric 10: At this level, you can call down the power of Santa himself in the form of Divine Intervention. One tenth of the time, he’ll help you out in a way the DM approves. You can use this once per day, but if it succeeds you’ll have to wait a week. You also get Word of Radiance. Sing a carol, blast some enemies, it’s a fun time.

15. Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks get access to third level spells like Fly. Now you can slap this on a reindeer for authenticity, or keep your flight ability during the day. You also get a new invocation: Eldritch Smite turns your Excalibur into an EXcalibur, eating a spell slot to add force damage to your attacks.

16. Warlock 6: Sixth level Celocks are Radiant Souls, letting you add your charisma modifier to one creature’s damage when you use a spell that deals radiant or fire damage. You also get another spell; Fear lets you create the greatest, most disturbing gift a person could receive (in their minds), forcing creatures in the area of effect to become afraid and drop what they’re holding. They also have to move as far away from you as they can each turn.

17. Warlock 7: Seventh level warlocks get 4th level spells, and the Shadow of Moil gives you another magical counterattack, while also darkening the area around you. This means instead of casting a third level spell to fly, you can cast a fourth level spell and use your bonus actions instead! Wait...

Anyway, you also get your last Invocation, and Thirsting Blade will finally give you an Extra Attack to bring you on par with your non Christmas counterpart.

18. Cleric 11: Destroy Undead now hits CR 2 creatures, and you can cast sixth level spells! Harm is your biggest gift yet, and Planar Ally will let you summon an... elf... to help out with the gift giving. Yes, elves have horns, why do you ask?

19. Cleric 12: Use your last ASI to beef up your Constitution for more health and better concentration. You really don’t want to drop that while flying.

20. Cleric 13: Your capstone level gives you access to 7th level spells, and more importantly, a seventh level spell slot. If you really want to use it for magic, Regenerate would be a nice way to tell your party you’re thinking about them. Or you can use it to eviscerate your enemies with smites. Either or.

Pros:

Being able to fly is awesome, especially when you don’t have to concentrate half the time. Keep yourself safe while supporting the party!

Being able to smite makes you great at burst damage, especially with your cleric levels giving you access to hold person for guaranteed crits. 10d8 Force is nothing to sneeze at.

You’re great at fighting dirty. Fly out of the enemy’s reach, frighten them, turn invisible, lock them in place, or ruin their sleep beforehand. It’s fine; you’re Santa, so everything you do is for the greater good.

Cons:

It’s a good thing you don’t have to fight fair, because with your AC and HP you won’t be very good at it. (Especially if you want to be authentic and not wear plate.)

Being a warlock and a cleric nets you a lot of magic power, but that split casting skill means you’re not that great at it, especially the warlock spells. 

You don’t get a second attack until level 17, and that’s just sad.

Next up: I am thou, and thou art me...

[ampleappleamble]

—

As soon as their party had crossed the threshold of the city proper, they'd turned to a local rabblerouser for directions, inquiring about points of interest and general information about the city. He'd filled them in while still trying to hold court with the group of refugees and protesters crowded around him, adding in fiery criticisms of animancy and the local constabulary, and as soon as the opportunity to escape had presented itself the little band of adventurers had beelined for the nearest tavern, a busy little neighborhood eatery and inn called the Goose and Fox.

Bit strange, that name. Sounds kind of predatory for a house of respite. Sagani glanced down at her own fox, and then chuckled to herself, shaking her head. ...Alright, maybe I'm looking a little too hard into this.

She noticed Axa looking at her quizzically, so she leaned over and murmured: "Here, stop me if you've heard this one: An orlan, a dwarf, a folk, an elf, an aumaua, and an arctic fox walk into a bar..."

"The bartender looks at them and says, 'What is this, a joke?'" Axa quipped back, not missing a beat. It was a punchline from a different bit, catching Sagani off guard, and both women laughed loudly enough to draw attention. In particular, that of a sour-faced elf with a rag draped over his shoulder who frowned and pointed at Itumaak, shaking his finger as he scurried out from behind the bar.

"Hey, hey, c'mon now, ladies, no loose animals in the dining area– Is that a dog, or...? Either way, tie it up outside, please. This isn't the Salty Mast." He spat the last few words from his mouth like a foul-tasting venom and turned to resume his duties, only to find himself nose-to-chest with Edér.

"He's an arctic fox, actually," the large man drawled softly, his tone hovering between casual and threatening. "And he goes where we go. ...'Sides, he's clean, and he don't make no trouble. Not 'less there's trouble with us. Which there ain't. Right?" He smiled amicably, looming over the sweaty little man as Axa stepped forward to intercede and the rest of her crew discreetly slid into a corner table.

The two of them returned shortly, followed by a husky orlan barmaid loaded down with stew and brew for the party of five, plus a little something for Itumaak. They talked while they ate: planning, mostly, about what to do with the rest of the evening and the days to come. The Hall of Revealed Mysteries, temple to Wael and the largest library in the Dyrwood, was a high-priority destination, as was the Ducal Palace in First Fires, for the war records Edér was after. And, of course, eventually they'd have to head for the western gates to escort Sagani to the cliffs where she might meet Persoq.

Even though your initial offer wasn't an escort to the cliffs. Only to the city. Sagani smirked as she considered the implications and nursed her tankard. You that eager to prove you're really a Watcher? Or are you just hoping to keep me on as a hireling you don't have to pay? She watched them eat and talk and drink and laugh, and when the orlan caught her staring, she smiled and offered the huntress a toke from her pipe.

...Frost's sake, Sagani, she thought as she politely waved the proffered whiteleaf away, maybe she's just nice.

She was pleasantly buzzed and half-listening to Aloth and Kana argue about whether to visit the asylum in Brackenbury when she noticed that Axa's attention had drifted as well– to the folk woman at the table nearest the back wall, the one who kept her face out of the lamplight and stared grimly into her ale.

Sagani nudged Axa, indicated the woman with a nod of her head. "You know her?"

"No." The redhead rose from her seat, wiping her mouth and knitting her brow. "But I know that look." She spared a glance at the lads– Edér, his eyes shut, blissfully gnawing on a hunk of beef; Kana and Aloth still wrapped up in the discourse on animancers in the Dyrwood– before striding purposefully towards the solitary woman, Sagani close behind.

It took some coaxing, but they got her talking. She told them her name was Kaenra, and that her fiancé had recently struck up a close friendship with svef, had started bringing strange, unsavory people around to the house to use. That he'd become distant, and then violent, and that all she wanted from him now was for him to take his grandmother's ring back and fuck off out of her life. Sagani watched as Axa listened, watched as she bristled with righteous rage, her eyes lingering on the woman's fresh bruise as she squeezed the ring tightly in her fist.

"I'll make sure he gets it," she vowed.

And so it came to pass that Sagani found herself spending her first evening as a tourist in Defiance Bay firing off arrows in a stranger's kitchen and siccing Itumaak on the drug-addled thugs in the study. Judging from the reactions of the rest of her retinue, apparently this sort of thing wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for Axa: the girl had a thirst for justice, it seemed, and she damn well meant to slake it.

Before long, they were all standing above the cowering, bloodied homeowner, a man called Purnisc who struggled to explain himself to Axa's satisfaction. Turns out he had been dealing svef, too, and when his supplier had found out that he'd been pocketing more than his fair share of the profits–

"–they sent the kneebreakers downstairs," Sagani finished for him, "and the wizard to replace you. Literally." She shook her head in wonder. It really was just like one of her Vailian crime novels.

"Replacement wasn't much of an improvement on the original." The little redhead was steaming mad, and she made no move to hide it as she leaned over the battered man, finger in his face. "You silly bastard, you really thought you could steal from a professional criminal, and lie to your woman about it, and you're just so gods damned clever that no one could ever possibly be the wiser?"

The man's blacked, swollen eyes went as wide as they were able. "You... you've talked to my Kaenra? Is she alright? Sh-she doesn't know I was selling, does she? Oh, gods, please don't tell her. I'm so sorry for putting her through all this. Please don't–"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Axa's roar came shrill and piercing, her typical rich, smooth voice consumed in the fire of her outrage. "Kaenra sent us here to return your ring because of your lies, you crooked little shit-for-brains! She loves and respects you! And you'd have us lie to her again?"

The pathetic man had withered under the orlan's verbal assault, and Axa seemed to have made her mind up about him as the group marched solemnly back to the Goose and Fox. But after returning to Kaenra, after telling her what Purnisc had done, the little woman once again defied all reasonable expectations.

"He's just an idiot, not a monster," Axa assured the other woman, "and he still loves you. And although he did a damned foolish thing, he never meant to hurt you. You just need to decide for yourself whether he's worth a second chance." Her violet eyes shone with tears as she spoke, Purnisc's ring on the table next to the women's clasped hands.

And when Kaenra said she’d think about it, that was the first time Sagani had really started to believe in the Watcher of Caed Nua.

—

[lovelystarlings]

Chapter Two - Hermione Granger

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When Camille was a little girl, her mother and father used to tell her the tale of Lily Potter; the woman who saved her son with love, the same son who defeated the Dark Lord and survived the killing curse. Camille never realised that Harry Potter was the same age as her, nor did she realise how young he was when he defeated the Dark Lord. So as she sat opposite him, she gained an insane amount of respect for him.

"I thought Fred and George were just joking around but, god you're him?" Ron spoke, his eyes wide in anticipation as he leant forward at the same time as Camille slammed her book shut and got up, squashing next to the two boys; much to the embarrassment of Ron who was heavily blushing once again.

"Have you got the, um, you know?" He pointed to Harry's forehead.

Harry nodded and pulled his bangs back to show the lightning scar that sat right in the middle of his forehead.

"Is that where the Dark Lord, you know?" Camile uttered out quietly, not wanting to offend the boy in anyway but curious, as any person would be, as to how he survived the ultimate curse.

"Yes," Harry replied, "But I don't remember it very much. Some green light but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at harry for a few minutes than snapped his head back to the window, realising what he was doing.

"So you two must know loads about magic already." Harry spoke, looking at Camille, who hadn't really spoken to much.

"Oh yes," Camille spoke, her hands falling into her lap to fiddle with her cardigan ends, she hated small talk. "In France I was lucky to be tutored by the headmistress of my older sister's school, Beauxbaton's. My mother insisted I wasn't behind with my education, so she had me start reading and learning a year early." She explained, both boys leaning forward, her French accent making it impossible not to listen.

"Though I heard you had to live with muggles, how was it?" She spoke, instantly regretting her question when a look of despair flashed across the boy's face before he covered it with a mask of tranquillity. "Yeah that must have been terrible. My mums got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him." Ron began, Camille suspected that the Weasley's were one of the Sacred Twenty Eight, the twenty eight pure-blooded wizarding families, unfortunately the Delacour's were not a part of that twenty eight due to her grandmother being veela and her grandfather being a pureblood therefore leading to her mother being a half blood, breaking the Sacred Twenty Eight rules.

"Muggles are horrible -well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers or a wizard sister."

"Witch sister actually Harry, if you're gonna be a wizard you have to get the pronouns right."

"Five, actually" said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy, but Camille supposed so would she if she had five versions of Fleur, one was quite enough. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left -- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good mark's and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

He gently took the rat that had previously been asleep off of his lap to display to the group. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got stupid old Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Harry began to speak about his experience with muggles, how he had hand me down everything, and how he lived in a cupboard under the stairs, and how his aunt and uncle practically treated him like slave, or rather a house elf, Camille thought. Ron seemed to cheer up at the news that he wasn't the only unfortunate one in the carriage, and when both boys looked at Camille, as it were her turn to share the pity party, she froze. Despite having the perfect life to others, she had suffered from anxiety since she was a child due to an event that she wasn't quite ready to share just yet.

"My parents have always favoured my older sister over me, and it hurts you know. It's always about her, and her feelings, and how she succeeds, and sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be here you know? Like if my parents don't truly love me than who will. I mean they do all these things for me so they look good and fair enough but sometimes I wish they treated me like Fleur, and not some random that lives with them. Even when Fleur's boyfriend rap-" She cut herself off, her eyes beginning to water as she remembered how her parents had treated her after that. Her sister was just a loving as always, but naïve to the hardships that some faced, as she had never faced them herself.

Looking up at the two she felt a hand on her knee, Harry's hand to be specific.

"You don't have to carry on, it's okay." He spoke, Ron nodding in agreement, trying to find something to distract the poor girl.

"Hey look! We're out of London!" The redheaded boy pointed out the window as the trio smiled at the endless evergreen that surrounded them. They were finally on their way to Hogwarts.

Timed past quickly, and at half past twelve a faint knock was heard on the door of the compartment, waking Camille suddenly from her sleep, the book that had been rested on her face banging loudly as it fell to the floor, Camille bending down to pick it up awkwardly.

A smiling elderly woman poked her head around the sliding door gently, Harry and Ron already starting to thorough through their pockets for change. Camille assumed this was the trolley lady. 

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Ron made the decision to stay sat down and pulled out a bag of sandwiches that Mrs Weasley had obviously made, the French girl melting inside at the sweetness of his mother. He stared at the girl strangely, as if he expected her to get up like Harry.

"I left my money in the trunk," she shrugged, before going back to her book. She didn't need to eat anyway, as her mother had told her countless times.

Hearing a gasp from Ron, she lifted her head to see Harry return, arms filled with everything you could think off; chocolate frogs, every flavoured beans, blowing gum, pumpkin pasties (Camille's personal favourite) and cauldron cakes. He had basically bought out the whole trolley, making Ron's sandwiches look inferior compared to his full course meal or rather dessert.

"Bloody hell Harry. Hungry, are you?" Camille spoke, but was silent soon after as her stomach chose the wrong to rumble loudly, most likely the result of skipping breakfast and lunch.

"Bloody hell Camille. Hungry, are you?" Harry spoke mockingly, after taking a huge bite of his pasty and causing crumbs to spray everywhere.

"Harry!" Camille scolded, whipping her napkin out of her pocket to wipe off the crumps that had landed in her lap. "You never talk with your mouthful, it's vulgar!" She muttered to herself, Harry and Ron began to laugh at her antics as she furiously wiped her dress down, and threw the napkin onto the seat beside her, stomach rumbling once again.

"Camille?"

"Yes." The girl said frustratingly, blowing a stray hair that had fallen on to her forehead away, looking at the boy who lived in annoyance. She despised bad etiquette. "Would you like a pastry, in return for forgiveness for my devastatingly terrible manners in front of a lovely lady like you?" An annoying tone of confidence dripped from his words as Harry held out his hand, in it a pumpkin pastry.

"Well," Camille spoke slowly, hand reaching over to Harry's, "They are my favourite."

"You too, Ron. I'm not just gonna leave you with a beef sandwich." The boy who lived spoke, pushing a pasty over to the ginger boy. It was nice feeling, Camille thought as the three sat there munching their way through the endless pile of sweets, Mrs Weasley's homemade sandwiches far forgotten.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. Excitement built in Camille, making her rather giddy as she thought of their arrival at Hogwarts.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and a round-faced boy with shaking hand entered. He looked tearful, and Camille felt the need to give him a hug.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, surprisingly loud considering they were on a train full of people, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"Well I'm sure he'll come back soon," spoke Camille in a matter of fact way, "We're on a train it's not like he can get far!"

"Yes, I suppose he will." The boy spoke miserably, before leaving their cabin in a hushed manner, heading straight to the opposite compartment, asking them the exact same question he had asked them.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron, patting the rat on his lap aggressively. "If I'd brought a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought useless old Scabbers, so I can't really talk."

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway."

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toad less boy had returned, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes, her puffy brown hair and front crooked teeth noticeable. But Camille thought that she was quite pretty.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. Ah, thought Camille, so Neville's his name.

"We already told him we haven't seen it but we'll let him know if we do." Camille spoke softly, pitying the poor boy, Neville, she corrected herself, who still had tears pouring down his cheeks.

The girl however seemed distracted at the sight of a wand, a smile appearing on her face as she began to step further into the compartment, sitting herself down next to Camille. "Are you doing magic? Show us then." Ron seemed taken aback at forwardness of the brunette girl, who had made herself comfortable nest to Camille, even going as far to rest gently on her shoulder; Camille had found her new best friend.

"Uh-ok?" He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Nothing happened, and Camille just had to let out a tiny giggle, not noticing the looks she gained from Harry and the girl beside her.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you." She spoke extremely fast, Camille having issues simply catching her name.

Hermione. Camille thought. That's pretty.

"Oh, w-well thank you I guess." Camille was just about as red as Ron's hair. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Um you're welcome. I'm Camille." She locked eyes with the bushy haired girl, immediately looking away when she saw Hermione was as red as she was.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered, his mouth once again stuffed with food.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" said Harry, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad. Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

[bowieandqueen11]

Dangerous Business / Bilbo Baggins Imagine

Request: Ello! I was wondering if you could write something for Bilbo where he meets her/he/they are with the gang when they come into his house. And they are very polite to him and try to keep things clean and stuff like that, also maybe she could be a elf of something. If so thank you! 🥺💕 

Okay, this is genuinely really cute! Also, sorry about my posting schedule, I’m in the middle of exam season but I’m going to try my best <3

Comments really do keep me writing, and thank you so much for each one of them!

‘No, no, please, put them down - they were my grandmother’s, and her mother’s before that! Please - no, you can’t sit on that, it’s an antique!’

The only thing to pay attention to Bilbo’s protestations against the dwarves was the falling sun, and even she was slipping to hide behind the hillside of Bag End, her warmth disappearing over the merry fields. The sun, of course, and you. You found the whole place so charming, the babbling brooks that flew and fizzed over the stones as the other hobbits sang and danced and brought in their crops under the weight of their wagons. The place, even during this night, seemed so bright and cheerful, and in the case of Bilbo, charming, you suppose.

‘Kili, would you get your feet off the poor hobbit’s jewellery box’, you say as you stoop down through the wooden circular door. He only smirks at you, giving his foot one more stamp for good measure before he wanders off with Dwalin, arm around his shoulder and down the hallway into the dining room.

‘Thank you’, Bilbo manages to puff out, feet pattering quickly past you as if fireworks were snapping at his heels, going to survey what was left of the contents of his pantry. You try to stifle a smile, the small, beady eyes of the hobbit barely visible under the mountain of swords in his arms.

‘No, no! There’s nobody home! If this is somebody’s idea of a joke, I can only say that it is in very poor taste!’

It was too late, however. By the time Bilbo had finished telling of Gandalf, the rest of the company had already scuttered in.

‘Put that back! Not the jam! And the cheese! That’s a bit excessive, isn’t it?’

‘He eats it by the block’, you murmur to Bilbo, who only stares up at you with shocked eyes before you grab the plate of Bombur and try to place it back on the shelf. Kili accidentally elbows you from behind, squatting down to fill his pint of ale. This, doubled by the sound of Ori burping in close proximity behind you makes you stumble forward slightly in the small space, but Bilbo quickly takes his eyes off of Fili walking barefoot on his antique dining table to reach his two hands up and steady you.

‘Thank you, Master Baggins’, you say with an amused smile, enjoying the slight tinge of his ears as he lets you go.

‘Not a problem’, he puffs out, clenching his hands back into the fist and glancing down at the floor, anywhere, in fact, to stop staring at you. He knew staring was rude, and the one thing he wouldn’t forget in front of guests was his manners. In addition, it frightened Bilbo to think that although he’d never seen an elf before, he already knew you were the most beautiful of them all.

No, that wouldn’t do at all.

‘Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go look after the more troublesome guests.’

The curve of your lip tugs upwards as you give a bow of your head. Gently, you put the leftover plates back onto the cragged shelves, watching the hobbit storm off back into the corridors of his home with an intense curiosity. 

Ori and Nori wave at him from where he stands in the doorway, arms crossed and steam nearly boiling out of both ears. But they only laugh, Gloin clapping his hands together as the feast raged on, mushrooms, fresh greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef slices as thin as paper, cheese that melts on your tongue served with sweet blue grapes, anything they could of dreamt of.

That was, until a series of knocks raged through the poor hobbit’s home, and the dwarves froze, ice seeming to cover the walls as the last visitor arrived at Bilbo Baggins’ house, and the real business began.

~

The armchair cushions take the form of Bilbo’s body and he finds it more blissful than any other day he can imagine. The hours will pass, just him, and he allows himself to smile for the first time that day. No Gandalf, no contract, no fainting, just him and his books and some peace in the Shire. 

‘No, it’s silly, I am a Baggins of Bag End. I just can’t go running off into the blue’, he murmurs into his tea. The fire dreams in its iron bed, cozy in the metal that glows. Her flames transform the wood into the most transient of beauties, hot ribbons of light. There are times it sparks, as if it wanted more than one crazy way to dance, as if it needs to leap, to fly, willing to land where it may. Bilbo only shakes his head, as if in disagreement with himself without even knowing.

‘I’m just the wrong hobbit for the job.’

‘Do you really believe that?’

Bilbo’s head jolts upward as if awakened from a dream. His eyes grow wider than usual and take on a wild look as he scans the room for the source of the voice, until he settles on you sitting in the nook by his bookshelf. He sighs in relief, settling back into his chair.

‘You scared the daylights out of me, you know.’

‘It’s good to finally meet you, Bilbo Baggins’, you say, glad to finally have this chance to speak with him. ‘I’m sorry my friends have ravaged your home and stolen all your food.’

‘Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had company, so there was plenty to share’, he replies, relaxing slightly with the warmness of your tone. ‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid i didn’t quite catch your name.’

‘Y/n.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll think me awfully rude, but I’ve never met an elf before.’

‘That’s because you’re so afraid of stepping outside your door, Bilbo Baggins, master burglar. If you join our company, you’ll see there’s more to be afraid of than just gentle rain in your garden, but there are things more beautiful than just sunlight in your doorway. It’s a dangerous business, Master Baggins, but one worth it all the same, if only for the taste of an unforgettable adventure.’

Your bright eyes glinted in the pale light of his living room, like moonlight reflecting on a shimmering pool. With your long, elegant lashes blinking patiently, Bilbo found it was almost hypnotizing to watch them, and it was making him lose concentration and spill scalding tea down onto his breeches and waistcoat.

‘You will be coming along, you say.’

‘For as long as I am needed, or wanted.’

Bilbo blows over the rim of his glass, eyebrows furrowing as if in thought.

‘Well, perhaps I could reconsider.’