#ori x ofc

[fellowshipofthefics]

Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s), Ori (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Kíli/Tauriel Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Ori (Tolkien), Original Female Character(s), Kíli (Tolkien), Fíli (Tolkien), Thranduil (Tolkien), Tauriel (Hobbit Movies) Additional Tags: TSF 2024, Thorin's Spring Forge 2024, Crime story of sorts, Suspense, Romance, Eventual Romance, Investigations, Blood and Injury, Injury, Blood, Car Accidents, Pining, Denial, Bad Decisions Summary:

summary 10

For this year's TSF, I give you a little pseudo-crime story!

It all starts with the disappearance of an influential magnate with whom a young journalist was scheduled to have an interview. Utterly overwhelmed by the tense atmosphere in the little village, she is soon joined by her best friend who is very intrigued by the mysterious absentee mogul. A wild goose chase through corporate espionage, emotional constipation, and just general chaos ensues.

The art has been done by my dear friend Shrimpy. Let's all applaud her! <3

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

The Tolkien Fic Rec Project

Lovely people of this fandom:

Let us start a post collecting those long fics that will stay with you forever, that you'd get a physical copy of, that left you staring into the void.

One for those Top 3 fics you've read and that will forever hold your heart, so that others may find the same joy in them.

Rules:

Only 1 fic per reblog

Only fics over 50k words

Always include: Title, Author, Platform, Main ships, Warnings, Work Count, Completed or WIP, short & spoiler free description

Optional: reasons why you love this fic so much, specific part of the fandom, needed knowledge of canon

ONLY fics in the English language (so the most people can enjoy it)

ONLY fics from the TOLKIEN - fandom

I hope many people take part!

I'll of course start:

Title: To change the course of the future

Author: authoressjean

Platform: Ao3/ Archive of our own

Ships/Pairings: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Kili/Legolas, Fili/OFC (,Aragorn/Arwen, Dwalin/Ori, Gimli& Legolas)

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Word count: 180,353 (34 Chapters)

Status: Complete

Description: Before the Battle of Five Armies, Bilbo finds out that his Ring is The One Ring, and decides to destroy it. So he starts towards Mordor, alone.

I enjoyed this fic especially because you get to know the characters in a new way, it is incredibly funny & heartbreaking at the same time, and the pairings are really enjoyable and happen naturally.

[mountkennedie]

Straggler

Kili Durin x human!reader

Summary: An au where everyone lives happily in erebor and kili is in love with you (lucky)

Warnings: ONLY TWO uses of y/n, and fluff ofc

A.N. i love kili and he loves me tbh.

Bagginshield mention lol.

Also: -ê khi love: my one love and Ghivashel: treasure of all treasures

Kili is 4'8, Reader is around 5'4

"You look beautiful in the sunlight," the dwarf beside you said. You jumped, you swore when you left this morning, and you didn't have any stragglers. However, here you are, with Kili Durin on your tracks. You weren't going to lie, you enjoyed the princes company, if only he gave you a warning beforehand.

You all had been thriving in Erebor upon a year now. Now that things had settled and riches distributed, everyone was able to return to a simpler life. Ori began exploring crochet after mastering knit. You enjoyed going on walks around the mountain, and Kili enjoyed you.

You looked down to him and furrowed your eyebrows, unsure if you heard what you thought you did. "I said um," he began to look sheepish, "you look beautiful in the sunlight, Y/n."

"Thank you," you bowed your head in appreciation, then began to continue your stroll when he said, "Wait!" He grasped your forearm, "may I join you this morning?" He gave you a warm smile in addition to the sweet eyes you could hardly resist.

"You already are KIli," I told him, returning the smile. "But sure, why not." He wasted no time in meeting you at your side. "I really love the view," your gaze followed over the trees and valleys and into the overwhelming beauty of Middle Earth. After being on the year-long quest and exhausting final battle, you can finally appreciate the scenery you're surrounded with. It sends waves of peace over you that you only wish to bask in until the end of time.

"So do I," he whispered. But instead of looking at the young rising sun over the horizon, his gaze on you didn't falter. To an onlooker, it would look as if his sight upon you had grown more intense.

You, of course, noticed this. "Kili, I'm serious!" You playfully shoved him to the side. You let laughter spill from your lips, and he joined you. You paced forward slowly, "you know... would you ever like to see it all?" Your voice matched your vision, very distant.

"All..?" He asked you whilst meeting your speed.

"Of middle earth. Would you ever want to see the entirety of our world?" You spoke quietly, thinking of how you would answer that question. In all honesty, you would. But not for a long time. You needed a couple of years before venturing on your next quest, and with the knowledge you now know, you would not want to go alone.

"I see the entirety of my world every day," he spoke softly. He stopped walking and looked at you. You halted and looked at him. He had a gentle smile on his face. Crossing the short distance, you stood before him.

"Must you always be a flirt?"

Looking up into your eyes, "I must," he mused.

"And why is that, Kili?"

"Y/n, -ê khi love, I think you know," he took your hand in his. He held you like you were the rarest treasure, and for how he was looking in your eyes, to him you were.

"Kili..." You were speechless. His eyes were studying every movement your face made, trying to learn as much as possible about what you were thinking. But you saved him the trouble, "amrâlimê." You had so desperately wanted to give that name to him. You smiled so brightly, and he returned it. It was debatable who out shined the other.

"Really?" He couldn't contain the excitement he felt inside. All the talks with his uncles about how properly court had finally paid off. He knew he needed to meet with Thorin and Bilbo as soon as possible, but it could still wait until he completed the courting tradition.

"So does that mean we'd give each other the braids?" You felt like a child for asking that question, but being human, this was new to you. Thorin had conveniently told about the practice yesterday.

"It does! It does, indeed." He reached back and released his shiny brunette hair for the silver clip he had installed and turned his back to you. You don't think you've ever seen him so eager. Upon picking up some strands, you heard your lover sigh deeply. If only you were a dwarf, to fully understand this significance. You've noticed Fili's braids. Maybe he's waiting on his turn since.

When you finish the braid, you let your fingers run through the rest of his locs, as if hypnotized. He turned to look at you, tears in his eyes. His hand took yours and placed a lingering kiss on the back of it. He did not break eye contact during the small gesture, and it sent waves of emotion through you. "Your turn, ghivashel."

His gentle tone woke you from your thoughts. You gasped a little and smiled. You turned your back to him and sucked in a breath, beyond excited to receive a braid of your own.

After finishing his portion, you hear Kili release an uneven breath. You turn around to see him with tears in his eyes. You don't ever think you have been gazed upon in such a way as he is gazing now. Eyes wet with tears, but full of passion and love that could never be shown to anyone other than his One.

You held his face in your hands and looked deep into those eyes. He leaned his forehead up to rest against yours, and you closed the gap. The feeling surging between the two of you could never be measured. Without a word, you both aimed for each others lips, a final collision to seal tradition.

It was languid and slow but full of life. Pulling away, you both looked each other in the eyes. "If only I could tell you how many nights I've laid awake... waiting for this moment, -ê khi love." His eyes looked over your face as if taking it all in for the first time. Not getting enough of every inch it crossed over.

"You will never have to wait again."

[lord-westley]

Shattered Hearts

Pairings: Kili x Reader, Ori x Reader, Dwalin x Reader, Nori x Reader, Fili x Reader

Warnings: Angst, suffering, heartbreak, depression, blood(dwalin), (drinking, death,(Nori)) unedited and crappy lmao

A/N: I can barely bring myself to write these days. But I stumbled upon old screenshots from my Tolkien discord server. Been crying none stop from missing these memories so uh... here you go @erosofthepen @midearthwritings @messiambrandybuck @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse and ofc Hart who has since left tumblr... love you guys

It was sharp and painful; like a dagger straight through his Heart. Days felt dragged on, as if the sun was mocking him- forcing him to remember how you once shined as bright as the sun.

Despite the suns heat on his skin, Kili's shattered heart felt as ice cold as ever. Like a stormy, winter night seeping through the cracks, threatening to cave in his sanity.

Every day was the same; wake up with your side empty, eating breakfast by himself, training by himself.

Kili felt old and slow. His head has been so foggy these last two years without you. Mother is scared, Uncle is worried and Fili... hasnt been seen in weeks.

He can't go back. He refuses to enter Erebor again... how could he? There's nothing left of his heart, so what's the point?

Fili lost everything that day. There was nothing he could have done except watch. Watch you writhe in pain, crying and begging for it to stop.

All he could do was hold you tight, his own tears painting his cheeks as you slowly and painfully passed.

How did it end up like this? Everything was perfect. Erebor was taken back, his family was back together, and the love of his life was by his side. The constant laughter in the halls were gone, nothing left but silence and whispers about the dwarf prince.

No, he can't go back... he'll continue down this gravel path, planting his shattered heart within the forests you loved so much.

Blood. Everyday he comes home from the wilds, covered in new injuries and blood. Each time, carrying a new baby animal.

He hopes that, if he saved them- perhaps he could save you. Perhaps the Valar would stop the punishment if he fixed his past wrongs.

A punishment. That's how he views it. They took you away from him because of his rough past. You're alive. You have to be alive. And he'll do whatever it takes to bring you back home.

His heart is shattered, but by mahal, he'll do what it takes to bring you back even if it means laying down his life.

He's gone...

When the love of his life was ripped away from him, he took to drinking. Hoping that perhaps, If he disappeared, he'd see you again.

It didn't take long...

A week, a week of drinking everyday, multiple ales in one sitting. A week is all it took for his body to give up.

He was unrecognizable...

His hair unkempt and tangled, beads holding on for dear life has his hair thinned from health issues. Clothes stained with ale and spit, clinging to his skin as he sweated.

There was no hope...

No hope for him, no hope for you. There was nothing left for him. He was alone. Alone with his shattered heart till his last breath.

The day you disappeared, was the day you took his entire being with you.

He didn't cry. He didn't yell and throw things. He... did nothing but stare.

There was nothing left of him. A mere shell of a once sweet dwarf.

Ori couldn't bring himself to eat, sleep or anything to keep him alive. He never moved from his armchair except for a twitch. A twitch as though he was listening to an angelic voice.

But there were no voices...

Just him... alone with a shattered heart, and voices in his head.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

THAUC 2022 - Masterlist

Song as old as rhyme

A collaboration with @dimdiamond (who is truly amazing)

🎨 Artwork link (Check it OUT!!!)

Words: 11'075

Pairing: Ori x OFC, Thorin x Bilbo, Ori & Fíli

Warnings: Aroace!Character, Trans!Character, internalised homophobia, internalised transphobia

Summary: When the elusive author Ori is invited to Baggins Bookshop for a reading, he unwittingly topples both himself, his best friend, and his best friend's stern uncle into an unexpected adventure of self-discovery. A story about first and second chances, the importance of friendship, and the value of courage. (with cameos of our beloved friends and mods)

Midnight ride

A collaboration with @freshvanillapng (who has been a delight to work with)

🎨 Artwork link (please give this amazing artist some love!!!)

Words: 3'990

Pairing: Fíli x OFC (Thorin x Bilbo)

Warnings: Mature

Summary: The Company arrives in Rivendell; Fíli makes an unexpectedly delightful acquaintance, much to the discontentment of all the authority figures present.

It was a pleasure and an honour!

@fellowshipofthefics thank you for this opportunity!!!

@dimdiamond and @freshvanillapng, I am humbled and delighted by your immense dedication, creativity, and talent. The hard work you've put into this art leaves me speechless and I feel truly honoured to have been working with such amazing artists!

As ever, your humble servant and devoted friend,

lots of love,

IDNMT

[soficrsonmuses]

( status FECHADO )

nome: victorie shaffer

idade: 36 anos

zodíaco: escorpião

ocupação: advogada

orientação sexual: bissexual

face claim: meghan ory

↝ plot (f/f, single mom): so who’s gonna give me a cliché single parent x nanny plot... like this single parent who just got out of a messy divorce ‘n they’re a major workaholic who’s struggling to juggle all of their new responsibilities so they hire this super sweet lil nanny to take care of their kids ?? ‘n there’s this obvious chemistry, and the kids love the nanny to bits and pieces, but the parent doesn’t want to risk anything too soon, and just..... awkward but cutesy slow burn.. bonus points for an age gap ?? that’s totally legal ofc

pinterest;

[skegulium]

fuck it. take my rough stuff copy and pasted from my messy document i haven't cleaned up. i've had this shit since 2019, and i still dig it.

R/I/A Testing: Reach: how many people they can control/how far they can use it.  Influence: how well they can control them/how well they can manipulate their psi, Ability: what they can make them do/what they can actually do to help their psi

Range/reach - self explanatory! How far away from the source can it go. Can you stretch it out ten feet or a hundred feet? For psychics, this is like how many people can they control at any given time.

Influence/Power - Can you lift up this ten ton Boulder or can you just lift up ten pounds? For psychics, it's a lot more of 'how much can you make this person do'. Can you full on meat puppet them for an extended period of time or can you only hold your influence for a short period of time?

Ability/Precision - How much control do they have on their psionics? Can you only pick up rocks or can you take apart a watch with no sweat? For psychics, it's like stuff like if you're meat puppeting them, can you make them type out a message on a computer or can you only really direct them where to walk and so on and so forth. Can you only read their emotions or can you change them?

Testing- the testing for R/I/As comes in two forms, a preliminary test to explore roughly what they could theoretically tap out at right now and then there's a more fine tuned official test. The preliminary test can get a bit painful and it's usually done in a nullified room as it's literally the psionic equivilant of delivering an electric shock to a muscle to lash out. it temporarily charges it without burning out the troll (unless they're really that sensitive to burnout but even then it's for a split second and is rarely, if ever fatal). it gives rough estimates of what they could potentially hit but it's less accurate and people who test well on a preliminary test can get scooted off to the fine tuned official test the official test takes more time, is more gentle and doesn't risk burn out, but it gently charges up a troll to see what they could do under the best conditions possible before they hit burn out and ofc, the scores are mallable so the testing techs tend to take them with a bit of a grain of salt, but they're good enough to make decisions on and trolls can't really lie on the tests trolls who have R/I/As that are more varied like (x) and ori would have some pretty weird test results that won't solidify into proper scores, potentially? and usually requires more testing in order to get an accurate reading and even then it's a crazy rollercoster of ups and downs and that's how the techs are like 'YEP. WE'VE GOT A WEIRD ONE'

Scores are marked in order, out of ten. For example: 0/0/0. 0 equals a complete lack of any ability in that area and are reserved for those who have no psionics, and typically most psionics - even untrained - have at least a 1.

The strongest and most skilled psionics can hit as high as 10, although a full triple 10 across the board is rare and highly desirable.

Training:

everyone has a bit of an instinctual ability to know how to use their psi in the very basic way, but you can't really unlock your real potential until you really start using it and training it

which is half of ori's thing rn - she has zero ability because she never grew up as a teenie with that instinct so she's trying to figure it out as an adult and not knowing what she's doing. as she gets better though, she'll be able to manipulate more things, extend her range and burn out less. eumeleia, her ancestor, probably had a crazy range since she spent like, a good hundred sweeps fine tuning it ori meanwhile is like 'well i taught a puffin how to play fetch'

Tiering:

There are multiple 'tiers' to someone's psionics! Typically like, 5 tiers? Depending on your power! sometimes it's less, but never more and personalized to each troll.

BASICALLY what the tiers mean is how much further can you train your skills using this power + augment it to go further than your natural ability?

FOR EXAMPLE:

I have a guy named Tomie! He's a blueblood, he has intuitive aptitude as his power. He's able to touch something and instantly know how to use it, even if he's never seen it before in his life. He falls under the Metaphysical branch, under clarivoyance, and then under a type of psychometer, which then splits further to give him an actual catergory for his psionics, intuitive aptitude.

On his first tier, he can touch things and figure out how to use them! These only work with mechanical things + they have to be interlocked already. If, say, a clock was given to him, he could touch it and then know how to fix it! However, if you gave him the pieces of the clock, he would not be able to use his powers to put them together to create the clock, as his powers registers each piece as a singular object, rather than pieces of a larger one.

At tier 2, given technological enhancements through a psionic focusing device, he's able to use his powers to 'connect' these pieces! this clock is now linked together through his focusing device and he can put the clock back together AND fix it.

At tier 3, through the augmentation of sensors directly into his body and lots of practice of how to do so without overloading his mind, he can use sensors on his hands to touch motherboards in computers and push his psionics further to try to utilize it on how to hack and get around computer security. 

Currently, he's most proficient in tier 2, but working on training tier 3. His psionics however are very basic and can't be 'leveled up' past tier 3.

(the downside of augmentation + psionic training is how VARIED people's psionics are! and, typically, the ones who have psionics are usually lowbloods, so it's harder to waste time on augmentating and researching and testing how best to utilize their powers, so typically,  in the name of CAPITALISM, they either 

A) try to get people in the rough same class of psionics to reuse a cookie cutter augment amongst them all or

B) Get pushed to the max then Pewish OwO

Tomie would, at his current power, is a Max Tier 3 with a RIA score of 3/10/1. Valuable, but un-upgradable. Psionic classification chart: (unfinished)

man, watching people put up their headcanons about troll stuff and i'm over here glancing at my R/I/A psionic scoring document and the classification spreadsheet and sweating on if i'll ever finish it.

[crazytxgradstudent]

Thorin/OFC fic update

Well, the beast is continuing to grow. Feel free to tag along if you’d like. One day, I might shock us all and get to the end 😂

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18621934/chapters/44157052

[middleearthpixie]

After the Fire ~ Chapter Two

Title: After the Fire - 

A/N - A huge thank you to @bitter-sweet-farmgirl for answering the medical questions I've pestered her with thus far. I apologize in advance for the sure to be many more coming your way...

Fandom: The Hobbit - Post BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a grievously wounded Thorin is brought back to the kingdom of Erebor, which is still mostly in ruins. Although he’s survived the wounds he received at the end of Azog’s blade, his recovery is far from complete. Grief, regret, anger, all are making his journey that much more difficult and the physical recovery isn’t quite the most difficult challenge he faces.

Jasna Stoneham is no stranger to loss, as she is a survivor of Smaug’s wrath upon Esgaroth. When she is asked to help the dwarves healers of Erebor, her instinct is to say no, but she needs the job, and so agrees to it. However, no one told her that of all the patients, she would be responsible for the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield. 

Unfortunately, the road to recovery isn’t necessary a smooth one, but if there’s one thing Thorin will learn, it’s that Jasna is just as stubborn as he is and for every step back he takes, she is there to push him three steps forward. And Jasna will soon find out that there is a gentle, softer side to the dwarf king, one that very few people have ever seen and one he fights to keep hidden from her as well. But like his recovery, that is also easier said than done. 

Jasna gets her first glimpse at the horrors of war and what’s happened to the Durin men…

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Jasna Stoneham

Characters: Jasna, Óin, Narnerra, Ori, Kíli, Thorin, Iron Hills dwarves

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of wounds sustained in battle, vomiting, 

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,603

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @quiall321 

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

“Jasna?”

She looked up to see a small woman with a mass of blonde curls pulled away from her face hurrying toward her. The woman stopped before her, slightly out of breath. “Are you Jasna Stoneham?” 

“I am, yes.”

“Good. Come with me. I am Narnerra and Óin told me he’d brought you on. The wounded are coming in now and it’s a madhouse both in the infirmary and out here. Come with me.”

She didn't wait for Jasna to reply, but turned and hurried off in the direction from whence she came, all the while talking at least a mile a minute. “I need you to assess every body that comes into the Great Hall. I will give you tags—white, wounded but not urgent; blue, wounded needs to be seen quickly; red, emergent and to be seen immediately; black, dead. If their wound is not immediately apparent, ask about it, take as much information as possible if they can speak and you can understand them. If not, tag them to the best of your judgment and start up a chart, then tuck it into the bed between their feet. Red and blue tags come to Óin or me immediately. White tags can wait in the Great Hall. Make certain they are as comfortable as possible. Offer wine and food, but not much as the larders aren’t quite up to snuff as yet. If one comes in with some sort of impalement, do not, under any circumstances, let them remove the object. Is that clear?”

“Aye, it’s clear.” Jasna tried to take it every word even as she glanced around at the crowded Great Hall. “I be-beg your pardon, b-b-b-but, I’ve had only a f-f-f-few months of training.”

“I know. But you can certainly tell if a wound is life threatening, can you not?” Narnerra glanced over her shoulder, pausing at a desk messy with papers, quills, and ink pots and various other sundries. “Speak up if you cannot and I will—” 

“No,” Jasna broke in hastily, “I can tell.”

“Good. Tags are here,” Narnerra swept up the stack of tags, each one with a short loop attached to one end. “The loop goes over the biggest toe on the left foot.”

“And what should I do with the black tags?”

“Cover their face with a sheet or any cloth or fabric you might find on their person and I will send a few dwarves to bring them to the morgue when I can spare the manpower.” Narnerra pressed the tags at her, then sighed, drawing the back of her wrist across her shining forehead before calling out, “Ori!”

“Aye?” A young-looking dwarf with reddish-brown hair and ink stains on his fingers joined them. “Are you ready, Narnerra?”

“Ori,” Narnerra gestured to Jasna, “this is Miss Stoneham. Jasna, this is Ori. He will scribe the notes to be tucked in with each patient. Ori, be patient with her, she is new at this.”

“Oh, of course,” Ori replied and when Jasna met his dark eyes, he offered up a warm smile despite looking utterly exhausted. “You’ll be fine, Miss Stoneham.”

“I certainly hope so.”

A low sigh bubbled to Narnerra’s lips and she said, “I am glad you’re here, Miss Stoneham. Call either me or Óin if you run into any trouble.”

With that, she bustled off and Jasna stood there for a moment, surveying the sea of bodies flooding into the Great Hall from the battlefield just beyond the front gates. She’d never seen so many dwarves in one place, and they weren’t the only ones brought in, either. Several elves had come in, as well as Men, and all were a mix of the walking wounded, the seriously wounded, and some were very obviously to be black tagged. Voices rose—talking, moaning, crying in pain—to create a buzzing din that echoed off the stone walls all around her. 

“You’re accomplishing nothing, standing here like a fool,” she admonished herself, glancing down at the tags in her hand. “Get to work.”

“I beg your pardon, but I am waiting for you.”

“Oh,” Jasna jumped, but managed to smile, “I was t-talking t-t-t-to myself. S-s-s-sorry. Shall we?”

He offered up a queer look, but nodded and as she pushed herself into motion, he followed. At the nearest cot, she stopped and peered down. Upon it, lay a red-haired dwarf with angry blue eyes. “‘Bout time, lassie. Are ye waitin’ fer me ta kick it?”

“Uh… n-no. Of-of course not.” She managed a slight smile. “So, where are y-you in-in-injured?”

“My ankle twisted oddly, is all.” The dwarf glowered at her. “Can ye fix it and get me back out there?”

“I think y-y-you should plan to wait h-h-h-here a b-bit longer.”

“The battle is over, isn’t it?” Ori asked, not looking up from the notes he scribbled in his book.

“Aye, it is, but there are still ugly orcs out there needin’ ta be finished off. And I’d like to be there insteada here, if it’s all the same ta ye?”

She shook her head as she moved to the foot of his cot and tossed back the rough blanket covering him. His left leg was bent at an unnatural angle at the ankle, the entire side of his foot various shades of blue, green, and yellow and from just above his ankle to his toes, his foot looked like it was at least three times the size it was supposed to be. Looking up, she met his gaze and shook her head. “Um… y-y-your ankle is more than a little turned, I’m afraid.” 

“Jus’ pop it back and let me get out there!”

“Sorry. I c-c-cannot d-d-do that.” She eased a white tag over the big toe of his uninjured foot, then flipped the blanket back. “D-did you g-g-get that, Mr. Ori?”

“I did, and there is no mister.” He smiled, tugging the sheet of parchment from his book to slip between the dwarf’s feet. “Just Ori is fine.”

“No mister. Right.” She bobbed her head, and moved on to the next bed. And then onto the next. She quickly fell into a rhythm, assessing wounds—pride surging through her when she held back a gag at a particularly nasty arrow wound—tagging combatants as they arrived. She soon forgot about being nervous, there simply wasn't time to worry about it. There were far too many bodies and far too few of her and Ori, so she couldn’t dwell. She could only review, assess, and move on. 

“Jasna!” Óin’s voice rang out over the din, and she looked up to see him in the far corner, waving one arm like a madman. “Come! I need your help!”

Ori tucked his pen behind his ear. “I think we tagged everyone. Go. I’ll see if any of them need water or food.”

“Thank you!” Jasna dashed about the cots as quickly and nimbly as she could, and when she reached Óin, her, “What can I do for you?” died on her lips. 

“Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli,” he replied, pointing from one prone, still figure to the next. “They are red tags and I need you to assist Narnerra with Kíli.” He pointed to the young dwarf at far end of the row, whose shirt and sheet were both soaked in blood. “I’ll call you if I need you back.”

She swallowed hard, her stomach roiling at the side of the bloodied dwarf, who seemed too pale to still live. But there was no time to dwell as Narnerra waved her over and said, “Give me your hands, Jasna. I need you to hold this—”

As she said this, she grabbed Jasna’s hand and thrust it inside the gaping wound in the dwarf’s lower chest. She fought off a shudder at the sticky warmth of blood pulsing over her fingers with each heartbeat. “Wh-wh-wh-what am I holding?”

“Feel for the leak. Put your finger on it whilst I get the needle and thread ready.” As she spoke, Narnerra looked down at the needle and thread in question. “When I tell you, move slightly to your left, just enough to allow me to work, but maintain a gentle pressure. Can you do that?”

Her belly roiled harder now, a sour, brackish taste flooded her mouth, one that Jasna swallowed hard against even as she nodded. “I can.”

“Good.”

Jasna swallowed hard again as Narnerra moved in alongside her hand to carefully begin stitching the internal wounds. There was just enough space for them to coexist and as she finished sewing a section, Narnerra whispered, “Now!” and Jasna moved just barely. 

The dwarf gave no indication that he knew what was going on, didn’t move aside from his shallow breaths, and when Narnerra finally said, “Take your hand out,” Jasna didn't so much as flinch as she withdrew her bloodied hand. A dark-haired dwarf pressed a length of towel into her clean hand and she wiped off the bloodied one as Óin gestured for her again. 

“Narnerra, Óin—”

Narnerra nodded. “Go. And thank you.” She looked at the dwarf who’d given Jasna the towel and said, “Bofur, if you and Glóin would move Kíli over toward the windows. But take care. He is in a fragile state.”

“Aye, Narnerra.” 

He and a red-haired dwarf grasped the cot and carefully moved it and only then did Kíli stir. Jasna had just joined Óin at the bed of a large dwarf with a tangle of long, almost-black curls when Kíli cried out. She started to turn, only to have Óin grab her upper arm.

“No, lassie. Concentrate on this patient,” he said, gesturing to the dwarf lying before them. “Narnerra has Kíli in hand. We need to work here.”

Jasna nodded, turning back to the wounded dwarf. The front of his dark gray, rough-hewn henley was saturated with blood. His face was a mask of blood and sweat, with a long, slightly jagged slash that ran from the his hairline on the upper right side of his face, down across his forehead, where it disappeared into the inner portion of his right eyebrow. 

She reached for a rag to mop up some of the blood from his face when Óin stopped her with a, “That’ll wait, lassie. I need ye to help me here.”

As he spoke, Óin took a large pair of scissors to cut away the henley and as the fabric parted, Jasna felt the blood drain from her face. His wounds, both stuffed with wads of cloth by someone in a desperate, if futile, attempt at stanching the flow of his blood, were the worst she’d seen come into the infirmary thus far. She’d thought Kíli’s wound was terrible, but these absolutely surpassed it. Both slices were relatively clean, but they were far larger than the one Kíli bore. The topmost wound was in his chest and was the widest, while the smaller one was maybe two or three inches below the upper one. 

Óin gently removed the cloth and probed at the larger wound. The wounded dwarf stiffened again the invasion, letting out a hoarse cry that reverberated with a pain so raw and primal, Jasna felt it herself. Her eyes teared up even as her gut threatened to revolt on her. She’d never seen anything like this, had never heard such anguish, and as that brackish taste flooded her mouth again, icy horror filled the rest of her body.

I’m going to throw up.

“Ex-excuse me,” she managed to grit, backing away from the cot and bolting for the door that led—she hoped—to the overgrown courtyard. She flung herself into it and mercifully, it swung wide. It banged hard against the wall, and she managed to make it just beyond the threshold before she felt to her knees into the snow and her stomach emptied itself into the wild tangle of underbrush that survived despite the cold winter conditions. 

Her entire body convulse, her muscles twisting and knotting, trembling as she had nothing more to bring up, and so finally went calm, sinking into the weeds that refused to yield to the snow on the ground. Rocks bit into her knees, into her backside as she shifted onto it, but she only barely felt it as she swallowed hard and tried to will her nose to stop running. 

“Jasna?” Narnerra’s voice was soft as she knelt beside her. 

“I’m so so-so-so-sorry,” Jasna choked, her stomach clenching violently once more. “I’ve n-n-never s-s-s-seen anything l-l-l-like th-that.”

“It’s all right, dear,” Narnerra murmured, her hand coming to lay gently against Jasna’s back. “It happens.”

“I’ve only h-h-h-had th-th-three months’ tr-tr-tra—” Her voice broke, her eyes over flowed, and she buried her face in her hands.

“I know you have. And it’s all right. Sometimes, you’ll get sick. It happens.” Narnerra patted her gently on the back. “Stay out here a few more minutes, let your head clear, but then we need you inside.”

“Is h-h-h-he going to d-d-d-die?”

“Thorin?” Narnerra shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so, no. But, that being said, I should go back inside before I am proven wrong.”

Jasna glanced toward the infirmary, her stomach clenching at the thought of going in, but also at the thought of Óin’s telling her to not trouble herself to return. “Sh-should I j-j-just go h-h-h-home to D-d-dale?”

Narnerra’s brow furrowed. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m of little u-u-use here.”

“You are still learning, Jasna. And part of that is knowing that you will sometimes get sick. But, what we do in there is so very important, more important than how we feel. So, if you walk back in, you’ll know you are meant to be here.”

“Today is probably as bad as it gets, Jasna. This is what war does to men of all ilk. I only hope we do not have to see it again.” She patted Jasna’s shoulder as she got to her feet and then made her way toward the door, where she paused and added, “But then again, I’ve been doing this many, many years, and I still get sick on occasion. Take a few more minutes and rejoin us. In the infirmary.”

Jasna nodded slowly, sinking back against the building and leaned her head back. If you walk back in, you’ll know you are meant to be here.

Was she meant to be there? Could she stomach those wounds—the sights, the smells, the cries that came with them? Or was she only more of a hindrance than a help?

A chilled breeze stirred, drying the perspiration on her back, her face, lifted her hair where it’d slipped free from its messy knot. The late afternoon sunlight came dappled across the courtyard, the winds whispering softly through naked tree branches that creaked with each gust. Her stomach calmed, her head cleared, 

Narnerra’s words reverberated inside her skull until she couldn’t stand listening to them any longer. She knew what she had to do and so with a low sigh, she got to her feet, drew a deep breath, and stepped back into the infirmary.

[legolasbadass]

Masterlist

👑 Thorin 👑

A Lifetime Apart (Thorin x OC, Pre-Smaug, rated T) — This fic was written for the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2021 for the lovely @gwen-ever​.  [1] [2] [3]

Blame it on the Dress (Thorin x reader, rated E) — ​[1] [2]

The Castle on the Mountain (Thorin x OC, Gothic AU, rated E) — [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

Heart of Gold (Thorin x OC, Pre Quest of Erebor, read the whole fic on AO3, rated E) 

In Your Arms (Thorin x reader, rated G)

Just Like the Ones I Used to Know (Thorin, Dís, and Frerin, rated G)

New Pleasure (Thorin x OC Dania, rated E)

The Shadows Which Fire Throws (Thorin, Dís, and Frerin, rated G)

Shelter From the Storm (Thorin x reader, rated E)

Waterfall (Thorin x reader, rated E)

Welcome Home (Thorin x reader, rated E)

📚 Richard and Lorelei Series 📚

Office Hours (Richard Armitage x OC, Professor AU, rated E, read the whole fic on AO3)

Italian Holiday (Richard Armitage x OC, Professor Au, rated E)

Home for Christmas (Richard Armitage x OC, Professor AU, rated E)

💗 Other Characters 💗

Against All Odds (Dís x OFC, rated M, read the whole fic on AO3) — This fic was inspired by the talented @lathalea​'s wonderful art for the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2022.

Candlelight (Ori x reader, rated T)

All of my works are also available on AO3. 

If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, let me know!

[sorisooyaa]

Paper Planes

Pairing: Ori x @i-did-not-mean-to​

A/N: Yes, I’m supposed to be asleep and resting! But this idea had been floating around my head all day and I could only think Ori with it and ofc, it’s Ori It has to be Angel :D

I had sat outside for the longest time. The heavy weight of the day was still on my shoulders, enough to suffocate me under its growing pressure. Add my own thoughts and doubts its power only multiplied, bringing me closer to spilling the tears I tried so desperately to hold back.

I wanted to scream... cry... shout, but something kept me from doing so and I rocked myself back and forth, trying to control the emotions within that were trying to spiral themselves out of control.

It wasn’t fair how the world worked in twists and turns, to drain out the very essence of the living soul inside one; to crush away the dreams one treasured, trying to put together a life worth living for one.

But unfortunately, there are things in this world that perplexed and angered many... and even killed one, pushing them over the edge because they could no longer take the weight, pressure and hate thrown at them from every corner.

Though one thing can’t exist without the other, some saw it as a blessing, and others saw it as a curse. I guess, it truly depends on the perspective of things that happen. Fo hurt to exist, there must be comfort, like two opposite sides of the coin, or the when day breaks into the night, giving the moon and stars to shine.

It was like that, the light touch of his hand being placed on my shoulder, touching my skin to send warmth through my body and lift away the fog that dared to cloud my mind and heart with darkened thoughts and wishes.

As if his touch is what pulled me out of treacherous waves that tried to drown me day in and day out.

“Ori...” I whispered, as my mind settled and the beating of my heart calmed until I felt only his touch and presence.

“Come here, Angel,” He whispered, reaching for my numb body. He looked for any signs of hesitation or denial from my side, and receiving none, he carefully wrapped his arms around me. He let me rest my head against his chest gently.

I listened to the soft beating of his heart, a peaceful sound that rocked me like a sweet lullaby if I was ever in need of sleep. There was a feeling of warmth and comfort within it; a touch from him and I was home, where I could block away anything and everything that tried to harm me. And I would do the same for him if anyone dared to harm a hair on his head.

The numbness in my arms and body broke; it melted away, and I freely let my arms wrap themselves around him. I pulled myself closer to the warmth he provided, trying to keep myself away from the fog that filled me with dread and darkness.

From my lack of speech, Ori understood there weren’t any words I could formulate right now, I only wanted the feel of him close to me, steadying me against the waves that tried to drown me each time.

And yet still Ori spoke, providing words, ones I wondered if I deserved.

“You’re loved and cared for. Please, do not let any convince you otherwise, Angel,” He almost pleaded with me, his thumb gently stroking my back, while the other hand drew soft circles, “There’s nothing wrong with you, it is the world that is wrong. It doesn’t know how to accept one another. It is flawed from the surface to its core. And the least we can do is shower it with kindness, and hope the receiving end will take it to heart and help another,” He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, before continuing, “We can only do our part, and our part matters! That is why we should not change ourselves to the way the world tries to bend us. We cannot let the flawed world break who we are...”

I think I nodded at times, a part of the agreeing but the other part of me doubting, enough to let my fear and anxiety rise.

“Can I show you something?” Ori suddenly changed his words, smiling down at me. The soft espresso shades in his eyes shone beautifully, and it memorised me every time.

I frowned, but he simply reached over to my bag and took out my notebook.

Opening, the midsection, where words or scribbles of my inked pen had not touched, he smiled at me excited, holding the edging of a page, “Can I?”

With the excitement in his voice, I did not have the heart to deny him. From the light nod of my head, he immediately (and carelessly) ripped a page from my notebook.

I laughed as the stubborn page only cut halfway, leaving an odd-shaped oval in his hands.

He rolled his eyes and casted it aside for now, before ripping out another, carefully this time around, “Ori, what are you doing, my love?”

It was very unlike himself to suddenly rip a page from a notebook, “You will see,” Was all he said, quickly putting those expert hands to work, yes of course there was more than one use for them.

I watched with interest, now eager to know what he was up to as he folded the angles until they were pristine and sharp. He folded the little piece of paper from many sides, asking me to hold it at one point as he made sure everything was folded nearly.

It was only a moment later. I realised, he was crafting a ripped piece of paper into a little paper plane. Once again, checking all the sides and folding them with more might until he was sure they would stay in place, he turned to me, his eyes twinkling beautifully; they put the stars of the night sky to shame, “Ready?” He asked.

I nodded slowly, and he carefully lifted his hands the paper plane held with a soft grip, before he released it into the air. I watched, my eyes following its flight until it fell, no longer under any influence.

“We should to learn to fly like this over hardships and obstacles. And there will always be times where we crash,” He said, gesturing to the paper plane on the ground, then getting up to retrieve it again, “But the most important thing is that we keep trying, keep it going... no matter how many crashes we have, because in the end, you say, I did it, I have overcome it, now I deserve some ice cream!”

I laughed, rolling my eyes as Ori finished. Once he sat by my side again, he reached for my hand, letting us hold it together before we both released it into the breeze, letting it carry on with its journey.

And this whole time, Ori never stopped, always making me floating and souring, letting no fog cloud my mind and heart. He kept me loved and safe...

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Just a lil get to know you ask, what kind of video games do you like? Love you, your writing, and your blog btw ❤️

I love a huge variety of games! I mostly play on Playstation, but I do some PC stuff too. Here’s a few of my favorite games / series:

God of War series 

I’ve played literally every game and Kratos is my videogame crush

Minecraft

Stardew Valley

Boarderlands series

Kingdom Hearts series

Birth by Sleep and the 2nd game to be specific are my top faves. Though Chain of Memories (the PS remake mostly) is also amazing because of Zexion LOL

Shadow of the Colossus

And The Last Guardian, even though I haven’t played it myself, I just love the game! I probably wouldn’t love it so much if I played it myself though, ‘cause Trico can be a little bitch it seems lol. But he’s so damn cute

The Last of Us

The first game is and will always be a favorite. But so far, I’m not feeling the 2nd game, and I’m incredibly disappointed. Though, I haven’t finished watching it all yet, so we’ll see!

Dead Space series

The third one was shit imo, but the other two are so good, and I’m really hyped to see if they’ll remaster / remake them sometime!

Sims

Because of course LOL

Pokemon games, literally any of them

Soul Silver has always been one of my top favorite, just for the fact that the Pokemon follow you around, and I loved the imagery of me turning around and hugging my 14′ 9″, 1,654 lbs Giratina LOL

I’ve also always had a soft spot for Pokemon Snap

And also Emerald. Not only was it my first gameboy game for Pokemon, but I also got my first shiny VERY early on! It was a Zubat (now Crobat ofc) but he’s very special to me and I transferred him all the way up to my Pokemon X

I actually used to be very VERY dedicated to attempting to fill out the Pokedex in X and having one of each. I think I stopped with around 500-550 Pokemon?? I haven’t looked in a long time. But there was lots of breeding, hunting, evolving, and transferring lol. I even bought another 3DS at the time just so I could make it easier on myself LOL

Amnesia: The Dark Descent

A classic I could play over and over

Resident Evil series

Subnautica

Ori and the Blind Forest

Banjo-Kazooie

Oldie but a HUGE fave!

Killing Floor 2

Dying Light

Silent Hill series

Final Fantasy series

I’ve played all of them, but I really like 12! And 7 of course lol

Okami

I spent an INSANE amount of hours into this game on my PS2! I was so dedicated to finding every damn pearl lol

Skyrim

Okay I’m gonna stop because this will end up being a stupidly long list. I just love videogames, and I play a huge variety of them! 

[middleearthpixie]

Whoa... this was amazing! :)

Invisible hero - Part 2

So, here's the update for this one as well!

-> Part 1

Words: 3,4 k

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, nudity, oral sex...You know the jist...

“Well, yes,” Ori admitted, “it seems to make sense to stay at your disposal, should you require any kind of assistance during the night.”

The expression of amused patience on her face made it – once again – very clear that she did not expect any situation to arise that would make such an intervention necessary, but she seemed touched and entertained by his readiness.

“Is there nobody who shall wait for you?” she asked, letting her palm rest on the smooth blanket for a second before extending her hand into the room.

“My brothers know that I’ve gone out to seek any kind of work,” Ori explained, threading his own fingers – fleshy and much too broad compared to hers – into the waiting gesture, a jolt of pleasure chasing up his arm as the warmth of his skin dispelled the coolness of hers.

Ila did not reply to that; she could hear in his breathing that he had not finished his sentence and she desperately wanted to hear the rest of it.

“My older brothers do their best,” Ori began, “but money is tight, and as the youngest, I try to contribute as much as I can.”

There was shame in his voice, Ila noticed, a quiet, almost resigned sense of failure that she understood only too well; she was the ‘weak link’ of her family, a constant drain on their resources, even though her needs were rather linked to time and emotional investment than to pecuniary worries.

As he dragged the comb meditatively through her hair, she sighed: “You have been a great solace to me tonight, Ori the dwarf, and I shall petition my father to make it worth your while.”

“That is the worst part,” he whispered tonelessly, “if I could, I would forego the payment for you are a lovely person to be around. I wish…”

Ila believed him; she knew not why, but – in her heart of hearts – she trusted him to speak the truth. It had been a long time since last she had talked to someone so freely and she realised just Nohow much she enjoyed this strange creature.

He had asked questions others recoiled from and it was strangely freeing for her to be questioned soberly and respectfully about her eyesight; it was so obvious an impairment that she often loathed people for shying away from addressing it directly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ila replied, her fingers sliding along the intricate braid he had fashioned absent-mindedly, “my father can easily afford it. It is well worth the pleasure of your company.”

Ori was relieved that she could not see him blush to the tips of his ears; he had not been lying, Ila was an agreeable person to sit with.

“Let me lend you some clothes,” she then said as her hand brushed his naked forearm, “I’m sure we’ll find something in my father’s wardrobe.”

Following her sure steps along the corridor, one hand brushing along the wall ever so lightly, Ori wondered what she would make of Dori and Nori.

Somehow, he really yearned to show her his world and introduce her to his king and his kin in hopes that it would give her pleasure; she had the most amazing smile, so pure and open as if she didn’t know shame or reprimand.

“You may have my father’s bed as well,” Ila said as she entered a dark room and went to the wardrobe without hesitation.

“Oh no, Mistress,” Ori cried out, “I shall stay where I can hear you call.”

“Where would that be?”

In the dim light of the moon and the stars, he saw her smile broaden into a feline grin that vibrated with hilarity.

“Oh no,” Ori repeated, heat painting his face a crimson hue, “I meant outside your door.”

“On the floor?” Ila cocked her head questioningly.

“Yes,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation; it would not have been the first nor the last time that he would spend the night rolled into a blanket.

“Who do you take me for?” Ila asked in a serious tone, “I am immensely touched that you’d want to stay close to me, but I wouldn’t let a dog sleep on the cold floor outside my door and I certainly shan’t ask that of a friend.”

Friend? By this time, Ori was sure that his head was about to explode; since meeting Ila he felt as if the treacherous blush that she couldn’t see hadn’t once left his face and the constant heat was slowly but steadily cooking his brain.

“Where do you propose I watch over you then?” he wondered aloud, almost afraid of the answer she might give; she had undressed rather freely in front of him, and he did not know what impossible plan she might come up with.

Tossing a tunic over at him, she extended her hand again, confident that he would take it and let her lead him to whatever place she had in mind.

When – a few moments later – he found himself back in her room, Ori expected the worst to happen.

“Come on,” Ila grinned, making her way back to her bed and slipping under the thick, warm covers that she held up for him.

“Oh no,” Ori stammered, “you cannot be serious. Have you forgotten what I told you? I do not think that your father would much appreciate it if he came back early and found you – literally – in bed with a half-naked dwarf.”

That idea seemed to amuse Ila greatly for she laughed open-mouthed and much louder than he had ever heard a human woman guffaw; she was evidently used to being alone and unchecked, blissfully unaware of the punitive and disapproving stares of the well-bred people observing their absurd manners.

“It would teach him,” Ila wheezed, “but I do not think about my father in this.”

What was she thinking of then? Ori could not tell.

“Tell me more about your people,” Ila invited, her blurry gaze coaxing him ever closer until he sat on the edge of her mattress, his bare feet soaking up the coolness of the floor.

“They are…good souls,” he smiled, letting the movement of his face warm his voice in a way he knew now that she registered and – promptly – she gave him an answering grin.

Slowly, word by word, second by second, she drew him in until he lay – cushioned on the softest pillow he had ever touched – beside her, talking about how deaf Óin was and what a marvellous sight the princes were to behold.

“Fí,” Ori explained with a vague smile, “is like the sun at noon, radiant and warm, and, by Mahal, I swear that you’d love Kí…he’s mischievous to a fault but the best friend anyone could have.”

Ila found that she liked listening to him; she had never met any of his kind before this evening and yet, she couldn’t remember ever having been so interested in anyone before.

“Did you mean it?” she asked suddenly, “When you said you’d take me to meet them, did you mean it?”

Her hand slid across the space between them unerringly until it alighted on his arm again, gauging his reaction by the small shiver crackling like static on his skin.

“Of course,” he chuckled, looking down at the frail hand that reminded him of a beautiful, exotic, fragile bird that he was afraid to startle into flight by any sudden movement, “if you really care to come.”

“I’d love that,” she replied vehemently, scooting closer to him until she could feel the heat of his body radiate into her clammy skin. It was an unorthodox reflex, but she felt drawn to this stranger and to his honest face with that amazing relief that made her fingertips tingle.

“Do all the others smell as good as you?” she inquired.

“I don’t know,” Ori replied awkwardly, “what do I smell like?”

“Warm stone,” Ila replied immediately, “you smell like warmth and comfort and…there’s something else that I cannot identify.”

A discreet sniff into the general direction of his armpits told Ori all he needed to know; between the heavy blanket and her naked body, he was sweating profusely.

He had never wondered how and to what extent his race would be different from mankind; the thought had not occurred to him for he barely ever interacted with humans, but – in this painfully embarrassing second – he wished he had a better answer to her question.

“I wonder what you taste like…” she mused beside him, and his head snapped around.

“You wish to consume me?” he uttered in surprise and disbelief; she was a dainty woman, and he could not imagine her devouring a grown dwarf, try as she might.

“Only a little,” Ila chuckled while her fingers trailed up his arm to the ridge of his collarbone on which they danced ever so lightly.

Ori didn’t quite know what to say to that as he was still not entirely sure what she had in mind; he knew that his was a people who were strong in battle and feared more often than actively hunted, but he was also aware that there were dark magics and tricks that could bring a dwarf to his or her knees easily.

“Will it hurt?” he asked, horrified to find that he’d be willing to sacrifice a morsel of flesh for her enjoyment.

“I hope not,” Ila laughed and – moving faster than he would have thought her capable of – covered his body with hers as her fingers tightened around his chin.

Before he could process what was happening, her lips – soft and warm – were pressed against his own with such conviction that the words of protest and caution died in his throat.

He tasted warm, Ila thought hazily, like hot chocolate and winter spices; not being able to see him, she homed in on all the other sensations flooding her: the way his body – soft but unyielding – shivered under hers, the surprisingly soft texture of his beard under her fingertips, and the slow blossoming of his awareness into this kiss.

“You, my friend, are a thing of beauty,” she sighed, letting her forehead drop against his head as she came up for air like someone having dived for too long a stretch.

“You don’t even see me,” Ori croaked, humour and confusion thrilling in his voice.

“You feel beautiful,” Ila replied cockily, “you smell amazing, and you taste like you’re gorgeous.”

“Are you sure?” he teased, himself staring up helplessly at the ceiling and wondering what he had gotten himself into and why he couldn’t back away, “Don’t you want to double-check?”

“Ah, a scribe, that’s right,” Ila snorted, “double-check I shall.”

And with that, her fingers found the corner of his mouth again and – a heartbeat later – her lips were moving – caressing, teasing, inviting – over this unseen plain of pleasures once more.

He couldn’t help slinging his arms around the small of her back, pulling her closer still and sighing into her mouth which made her promptly part her lips to breathe in the sounds of his overwhelmed delight.

“We should not be doing this,” he tried to reason with her even though he couldn’t imagine anything better than to lie here with her in his arms while she lavished blandishments on him that he had never expected.

“I think we definitely should,” Ila contradicted as her hands moved down to his shoulders slowly while her body slid over his further until her thighs rested heavily on his.

Despite his best intentions, Ori bucked up into the solid, warm weight of her flesh grinding down on him while the sweetness of her lips made it impossible to string together a coherent thought.

“And it seems like you agree,” she chuckled, letting her mouth wander down the slender curve of his neck, while she basked in the almost exotic aroma of his skin.

“Oh, Ila,” he sighed, “you don’t know what you are doing.”

He was wrong, Ila thought, she knew exactly what was going on; she was blind, not dumb. She had heard the tales of her childhood friends with unabated jealousy, knowing full well how improbable it was that any man would ever saddle himself with a wife who needed to be supported throughout her life.

It followed – evidently – that, under her father’s constant supervision, she could not taste the forbidden fruit either when it was clear that she could not keep the plant alive.

This was different though; he would disappear back into the shadows of a world that only overlapped from time to time with her own; there was no pity in his voice and the way his body shivered under her own made her feel powerful in a way yet unknown to her.

Ila knew that she could easily have grown addicted to that sensation as much as to the fragrance of his body and the melody of his breathless sighs.

“Let me see you,” she pleaded and – accepting that he’d regret it forevermore if his cowardice kept him from giving in to her – Ori discarded the tunic she had retrieved for him.

Suddenly, he felt insecure about all the ways he was different from the men she might have known before; had she known men before? Had she taken other men to her bed?

It mattered not, he decided, as she let her fingers dance and slide over his skin, tracing his collarbone and following his sternum before circling around his navel for a long, torturous moment. And yet, he wanted to know.

“Have you done this before?” he asked shyly, wondering if he would be the one to introduce her to body parts that would be strange and unfamiliar to her.

“Never,” she admitted, lifting her face bearing a sunny smile radiating curiosity and confidence.

“Oh,” Ori made, unsure if he was well-equipped enough in knowledge and bravery to teach her about these things; this was not the moment either to let her know that if he went through with this, he’d wait for her to come back to him until the day she died.

She was most probably human which meant that her life would be much shorter than his own and – while his head left the pillow to follow the sweet kisses he so craved now – he was already mourning her – to him – untimely death.

“Show me,” Ila demanded and extended her hand to him in literally blind faith.

He wrapped his own fingers around her narrow palm and guided her hand ever down until her fingertips quirked upon encountering the thicket of coarse hair trailing down from his navel to that unexplored space between his legs.

“Talk to me!” she exhorted, letting her cheek rest against his chest, and listening to the erratic drumming of his racing heart.

“I…You don’t have to do this,” Ori stammered, a million cautionary tales flooding his memory about how other races would never find beauty in dwarves which made him afraid to be repudiated and rejected.

“It’s a bit late for that,” Ila laughed, turning her head to breathe a kiss upon his heated skin, “and I really enjoy this so far. You feel warm.”

As his hand let hers go, she pushed on and found heat – smooth as a blade and throbbing as a fire – encased in an oblong appendix of such girth and length that she had to twist and turn her wrist to palpitate its whole extent.

A sound halfway between a strangled cry of pain and an airy sigh of relief gusted through Ori’s gritted teeth as Ila proceeded with her meticulous exploration of his body; he was more than willing to be the object of her discovery – still and impassable – but her hands on his skin kept drawing the most undignified sounds from him which seemed to amuse her greatly.

“Interesting,” Ila commented, “I expect this is supposed to do something…?”

“As far as my studies can be trusted,” Ori replied, “it’s supposed to be introduced into another body.”

“In this case, mine,” Ila nodded, propping herself up on her elbow without releasing her loose grip on him, a dreamy smile on her face, “where exactly?”

Oh Mahal, Ori thought desperately, for someone being paid by the word, he sure ran out of them rather quickly in this situation; when Ila scrabbled to her knees beside him though and presented him with her other hand in a wordless bid for him to showher, he didn’t hesitate nearly as long as the first time.

“Here,” he whispered, directing her hand between her own legs and biting down on his moan until he could taste blood in his mouth when his fingertips brushed against the warm, wet heat of her lust.

“Oh…” Ila cocked her head, “I am not sure it will fit.”

Again, she clasped and unclasped her fingers around him and let her digits roam slowly to gauge the dimensions of this organ she had evidently never beheld before.

“I don’t know if it is supposed to,” Ori confessed; she was of a different race and there had been but very little scripture accessible to him detailing these things.

“Hmmm,” Ila hummed, “can you trust me, Ori the dwarf? I…It is not poisonous, is it?”

“No?” Ori didn’t know what exactly she had in mind until she bend down over him and shortly brushed her lips across the head of his member before taking it into her mouth tentatively.

Fighting down the feeling of choking, Ila let the heat and the weight settle onto her tongue while she focussed her whole awareness into that spot where his body and hers were joined.

A low, keening sound resounded above her, and she flinched back immediately.

“I am sorry,” she said hastily, “did I hurt you?”

Ori was – once again – happy that she could not see his dumbfounded expression; never in his life had he ever experienced a sensation half as entrancing and paralyzingly pleasant as the moist tenderness of her mouth.

“No,” he whispered, “no, that was…Oh Mahal, that was amazing.”

“Good news is, I think it will fit,” Ila declared, “maybe not so good news is that I thoroughly enjoyed this, and I’d like to do it again?”

“All of this is wonderful news to me,” Ori exclaimed and chuckled when she beamed at him before returning to her oral ministrations.

Warm and smooth, the twitching organ tasted like the pebbles her father had let her suck on for the minerals when she had been a mere child: salty and slightly musty.

“This cannot be right,” Ori panted, consumed by the contradiction between the indescribable sensation and the awareness that they were exchanging things they’d never be able to retrieve.

Ila’s face tilted up in sudden worry, painted so unequivocally on her pretty face, and she let go of Ori almost instantly.

“I do not wish to trespass on your moral rules,” she assured him, ready to quench the fire within her veins; she was well aware of the reasons why her own kind kept away from her, it should not have come as a surprise that, for another race, there would be even more prohibitions in place.

“It has nothing to do with morality,” Ori barked, harsher than he’d ever spoken to a lady before, “and everything with faithfulness.”

This, Ila could not understand.

“I know that you don’t tend to take these things as seriously as we do,” he went on, “but if we are to go through with this – and Mahal knows, there’s nothing I desire more in this second – it binds me to you.”

Sitting back on her haunches, Ila frowned; she wished – desperately – that she could see his face to understand the undertone of deep sadness that vibrated like violins in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“If,” a moment of silence, a deep, shuddering breath, “if I take what you offer, I’ll have betrayed the way things are done. I am not destined to be betrothed – what with two older brethren yet unmarried – and even if that blessing was to be bestowed upon me, I’d have to follow certain rituals.”

Ila’s head spun as warm, sticky drops rained on the back of her hands, resting almost coyly on his shivering thighs now; marriage, an idea that was an open wound in her heart.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, “of course, I do not seek to entrap you in an unfortunate match.”

Psych...IDNMT cannot shut up and I tend to write shorter chapters...so there will be a third installment for this one as well...

🙈🙈🙈

I hope you liked this <3

Taglist:

@blairsanne

@narniaandthenorth

@fizzyxcustard

@laurfilijames

@myselfandfantasy

@legolasbadass

@linasofia

@lathalea

@midearthwritings

@clumsy-wonderland

@fckmini

@otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

@schrodingerspenis

[fatebreaking-a]

Tagged by : I am a thief. ( Stolen from @starthieve​ ) Tagging : steal it from me.

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

( I will not, I will pick all my muses, how dare- I’ll leave everything except this blog + my other Sona blog out, for length’s sake.) long post, so it’s under the cut.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES-ish / NO. ( people who like her like her, and people who don’t... really don’t. )

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO / MAYBE ?

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO / MAYBE ?

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?  — lol. I take inspiration from canon, let’s put it that way.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  Your local patron saint of lost causes, a heroic entity who has overcome betrayal and judgement to become an existence that can save the world. Also she’s tall and strong and hot and nice, what more could you want? Huh? You want more than being hugged by a 6′4″ lady??? Sona can also be in various countries, and can participate very easily in fluff, angst, and all sorts of other types of threads.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  Lots of angst and drama, a bit of a loner with a distant vibe. Having no etwahl and not playing music kills the interest and ‘usual interactions’ for a lot of people, and being mute & not jumping to telepathy can make threads dry and slow. Being a ‘sexy boob lady’ ( u g h ) also has painted her in a certain light - I’ll never forget that someone said that ‘ofc everyone ships with Sona, she’s the village bicycle.’ I’ve made her exceptionally strong ( almost overpowered ), and that doesn’t jive with people sometimes - shoving in all these themes that I personally like and crafting an interesting story of a divine / demonic seer witch who doesn’t know what to do with herself, is finally ‘too strong’, and finds power distasteful... The themes can be a little depressing and cold, even when she acts nice. And seeing “Even though she feels nothing, she still acts nice” in character can feel... tiring. A mute is not an easy person to write with, and I don’t shy away from trying to give the impression that ‘waiting for Sona to communicate can be tiring’ - because I want my readers and mutuals to feel the kinds of things she goes through everyday. While I try to make the blog accessible, Sona has a speech disability, and that can be tiring.

Also that she doesn’t act like a fancy noble... I don’t know. I feel like the way that I write her is very, very different to the fandom’s impression of her, and that leaves people disillusioned. “This isn’t what I expected or signed up for.” She’s just not that person... And because she doesn’t speak, a lot of prompts are off limits. I’ve also recently reset because I wanted to emphasize that she is patient, grim, and secretive while still being kind. I’ve toned down her tendency for mischief a lot, she used to be an absolute gremlin.

A lot of these things also apply to my other Sona blog ( @virtuous-dignity​ ), where she is extremely structured and self-confident and a bit of a recluse, so while she’s much much nicer, she’s also a complete hardass. It’s rough stuff, especially since I make sure to point out, “hey this Sona practices music over 8 hours every day.” “Hey this Sona finds it morally wrong to play music for small audiences.” There are certain traits that just cut ideas in the bud.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  I played Sona a lot in bot lane. Multiple years of sexist remarks, shitty writing, and bad characterization made me frustrated. A lot of things were left unexplained and the etwahl felt like too much of a focus that I could not answer, “who is Sona besides a musician with a fancy instrument”. She has to be someone, right? But we never get to that in the story ( nor in the apparent upcoming lore rework either... ). She has to be someone, her being a famous musician is not everything. So I forcibly tossed aside the music part, especially to also prevent accidentally being pulled into ‘your music is so pretty’ plots. Plus: I wanted to write a character with an internal conflict who was going through some things but wanted to be nice anyway - I believe in that idea a lot. And I wanted to write a character that, tbh, could ship and flirt and just... be flirty and easy going more ( hah! didn’t work out so great now! ). My first canon characters were a ‘left by the void Malz’ dealing with his sins and Ori, who I talk about below, and neither were really great for getting that flirty vibe out. I also really wanted to emphasize that... Well, to be blunt, that if I wrote Sona as sexually promiscuous, that wasn’t a bad thing. That ‘being sexy’ and ‘sex positive’ did not equal ‘objectified tiddy witch’ and ‘perfect candidate for oppai mouse pad’ and other things I’ve heard directed at me in my league experience. Many, many things. Ugh. It kind of did end up turning into a thing where Sona herself draws an interesting line between ‘haha I can tell everyone’s looking at me with those eyes and it’s the fucking worst’ and ‘ok but I trust you and am in bed with you, so I want you to grab me’ - but that’s getting more into ns/fw topics so I’ll leave it there. 

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  All my characters tend to be expressions of myself, as well as answering important thematic questions, like “What does it mean to be rejected by your home and no longer have a place”, and some other stuff. I usually go back to that. Plus, exploring concepts around abandonment and loneliness is something I do a lot with her - feelings of neglect and disillusionment, and ideas surrounding “do I need to like someone or be liked by someone to treat them with dignity”. ( virtuous-dignity, on the other hand, was created because I wanted to write something as soft and uwu as possible, and then it turned into something about ‘balancing dignity for oneself with duty to others’ and handling those kinds of conflicts. )

I also really do enjoy, on some level, turning people around on these characters. “You made me care about character x” is such high praise.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO.

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. ( idk, how many of you think robots are hot- )

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. ( I think people downplay Ori’s intelligence a lot, but Riot also casually implied she did open heart surgery on herself so??? )

Are they underrated?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO / MAYBE ?

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO / MAYBE ?

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?  — hahahahahahaha. hah. hah. Sorry. Everything I write is divergent by default.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  A genius inventor and cute spherical robot duo who speak to other robots and shoot lightning, run around acting cute, and try to save their city one step at a time - all while dealing with deep existential dread and fighting off a fate that decrees Ori’s death. Between ‘pancake bot’ and Ori being an accidental flirt, there’s plenty of variety and development here as my oldest canon muse. Not to mention that the blog ‘grows’ and ‘changes’, and in the last year, Ori has taken to dying her hair pink ( because Vi is cool is why, just don’t let her near a rifle or she’ll try to imitate Cait ). I also regularly think about / draw different hairstyles and clothing styles. Ori is very much ‘alive’, the most so out of the three muses on this blog. A human that has the memories of being a robot, trying to live on and live a good life. Also, there are bird, angel, and time themes. So many clocks. Mega clocks!

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  Deep angst and existential dread, because she knows her fate is to die and she’s cheated time. Themes of dysphoria and other troubling topics abound. Being stuck in time loops, thinking she’s an aberration, needing crutches because her legs stop working, etc.

Also, removing the fact that she is a robotic automaton is a bunch of the appeal of Ori. Or well, it’s what makes her character ‘interesting and unique’ to many. Without that, she is ‘yet another Zaunite’, as the thing that made her most interesting was her death and rebirth. ( Nevermind that her entire story is that she’s a selfless person but- I’m supposed  to act like she’s bad, right? )

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  Hey remember when institute of war was a thing? And then when it wasn’t? And Ori’s lore was “died to a turret shot trying to be a champion”... and then it was up in the air for two years?

That’s why. If no one else will love her, I will. She deserves better. And then the lore became close to my lore so I rewrote everything a second time trying to stick to the themes I had.

Ori’s thematic question is, “What do you do when you don’t recognize yourself anymore? How do you get back to ‘okay’ and what do you do from there?” It’s a pretty dim question that has a lot to do with body image, but also to do with abandonment and neglect, and  just dropping out of people’s lives. I think that’s something that people can really relate to. I originally wrote her on a multi with a ‘post void Malz’, who was dealing with the trauma of being puppeted around for years and all the things he had done, trying to get back to ‘okay’ without getting killed. More below:

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  Themes as noted above, Ori is super cute, and a lot of my art & general ideas. I’ve kind of turned these three characters in borderline OCs and keep developing them as they grow... Sometimes I think the stories and concepts I’ve written have outgrown the fandom. And thinking about her, and how she would live, and what her story is... mmm.

Also, the themes I write... I think they matter. Maybe it’s not obvious to anyone but myself, but writing a character who feels dysphoria and hates their body for ‘betraying them’... is relatable. It’s not nice. It’s not simple. But it’s relatable and it matters. Ori’s theme on this blog has a lot to do with “fighting a fate that says you’re going to lose and defying expectations” as well as “coming back from something wicked and rotten in your psyche/body”. And I do write some other skin verses for her but they’re all adapted to meet that theme. ( For example, in SG, she rises to guardian after finding out she’s fated to become a dark star and fights that fight alone, because ‘hell no she’s not going to go dark’. This was 5+ years ago back when there were theories SG and DS were same universe. )

Mostly it’s writing about these themes of expectation and reality. Overprotective parent, absentee parent, dealing with trauma... All my writing is like that. It can make my characters seem overly tragic, yes, but these ideas are not so far gone that they’re completely irrelevant and beyond belief. I’m sure many people have experienced emotional exhaustion and problems with body image. Even though I do write ‘polite but ready to fight’ characters only... Well, I believe in exploring and expressing these kinds of problems. Inner conflict and all. But also fluff! Fluff is really nice! Talk to her about pancake robot.

I also really do enjoy, on some level, turning people around on these characters. “You made me care about character x” is such high praise.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO. ( post rework??? oh my god )

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. ( hard to consider ‘martial’ characters strong when Xer/ath and Syn/dra exist )

Are they underrated?  YES / NO. ( she’s a little overrated, isn’t she?  )

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO / MAYBE ?

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO / MAYBE ?

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?  — I still draw from old lore with her big four blades of doom and ‘reviving’ with the help of Raka ( though I leave it vague / easy to gloss over ). I also had a lot of ideas about music and rhythm and tradition before the update ( drums were a big thing for her, so strong percussive beats and motions reign over the more silk and ribbon dances that flow more, drawing on things like Zelos existing, Lito’s lessons & harsh behavior, and her own internalized habits of trying to calm herself ), so I draw on those a ton. For me, the progression is ‘classic’ -> ‘infiltrator / nightblade ‘ -> ‘aviator’ all as one timeline. Also wrote her as being ‘missing in action’, which makes the awaken cinematic weird. I also really try to emphasize that she’s an emotionally stunted wardog with scars and not ultra pretty, so.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  A world traveler and a wardog, you can find her anywhere, any time, ready to kick some butt and enjoy the local food. Her simmering fury is a counterpoint to her relatively muted demeanor and adventurous spirit. However you may find her, there’s a definite charm to being flown up above the clouds to watch a sunset and talk. She will fly you where you need to be.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  I’m a little stuck on old lore and writing Lia as a character that has “left behind” her past and is pretending to be dead does make certain interactions tough. She’s also a deeply stunted character, emotionally, and I write her ten years of experience as having chilled her to a cold, ever burning ember rather than a passionate flame. Also, ‘aviator’ is kind of weird to handle for a lot of people.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  This one is really simple. When this blog started, the only splash where Irelia was smiling was the aviator splash. That’s it. That as the whole reason. “I want her to be happy and have found her happiness.”

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  I will admit that Lia is the character that I give the least attention to out of these three, and part of it is because I don’t really do flirting or shipping with her as much. She’s not one to reach out to others, and there are a lot of popular Lia blogs to the point that when I, as a multi, write with someone... She probably isn’t the first pick.

But I just... want her to be happy. That’s it. As I mentioned with the Ori section, what I’ve worked out for her has kind of outgrown the fandom itself, she’s become a different entity. Her themes largely involve recovery and finding oneself anew, and writing a character that is passionate about others while still being cool-headed is some of the variety I need. Because Lia is ace/homosexual, she sits out on a lot of the flirty content, but the chances I get to write her being romantic and caring... my god. Just a few posts back and forth with @unholyshe​ ‘s Akali and a So/na I used to write with....... Unforgettable. ( On that note go follow @unholyshe​ what a good writer, gosh dang. ) It’s these small interactions I find intensely compelling, and having a ‘quiet intensity’ and really thinking about her body language...

Also it’s nice to write a character with little secret agenda, who is just straightforward. “Will I enjoy kissing you? Only one way to find out. ‘It was okay.’ “ A ‘the only way forward is through, just do it’ attitude is refreshing.

------------------

Learning to write all three characters helps me write the others: The little things I think about that are specific to each person really help me out for the others. The depth of using body language from Sona bleeds into how Lia uses body language, and how Ori doesn’t ( even common ticks ), etc etc. Ori’s blunt, observational style of speaking ( telling you that you look good like it’s an observational fact ) helps me understand how to be straightforward with Lia.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES …? / NO. ( sometimes I do get very anxious abt it, esp. since I’m so divergent and do things like ‘so/na is one part succubus lol’ )

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO. ( do excerpts count? less headcanons and more musings, since I’m on like 5+ years with 2/3 of these. )

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO. ( time is not a thing but I used to write a ton, my drabble energy goes to novels now )

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO. ( this is why you see mobile posts from me constantly, and so many excerpts / musings ).

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO. ( It’s what I want but it can also be disillusioning / disappointing to people so. Dunno. Anxiety. =/  )

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. ( It takes me a bit to warm up to a character again, but yes. I know my writing is not bad but I can be a little insecure about it. )

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. ( Very. I cry a lot and I get upset pretty easily. Sometimes I end up being really cold instead but idk. )

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  — To a point. Sometimes criticism is irrelevant or meaningless, or is just personal taste. “Sona shouldn’t be that strong” isn’t helpful ( but thinking about ways to pare down the complexity is good! ) Sometimes I get criticism that is the equivalent of tasting a chocolate cake and going, “It should have been vanilla, I like vanilla better.” That’s cool, but that has nothing to do with the taste of the chocolate cake I made. ( Ori as a human isn’t interesting, talk more about Sona & the etwahl even though it’s broken, Lia flying doesn’t make sense, etc - these are foundational flavors, so what can I do? ).

Also sometimes people make comments that make me feel they’re just being petty / catty and not sincere. I’ve seen quite a few hypocritical comments and it’s hard to take them seriously. So, yes, but ‘to a point’... Mostly I take suggestions, which I then talk about for the muse. Exploring those ideas. Unsolicited criticism is... hmm. In my experience, about half of it isn’t constructive. And from the wrong person, it can sound judgemental. 

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  — Of course? I love asks. Always. Great. Awesome. If I have a chance to draw to answer these asks, even better.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  Not really. I’m divergent, they probably disagree because they have a different vision for the character. I’ll be honest here and say I’ve had enough people tell me that “my portrayals are not what they expected” that this can be... disheartening. I usually have a good reason for 80% of my hcs. If we’re talking in IMs though or just conversing, I’m totally fine with it. This comes back to unsolicited criticism - to be a little blunt, some people just straight up don’t know what they’re talking about. And given that I put a bunch of effort in trying to make sure most of my headcanons can be glossed over, so it doesn’t cause conflict and my ‘ultra grim take’ doesn’t cause the end times... I dunno. I’d rather that someone tell me “the kind of interactions they want”, so I can lean into that direction. If you just want fluff, I can leave most of my darker hcs for So/na at the door... But you need to tell me that, so I can work with you. 

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  — just leave? huh? I mean, I already know people disagree. If you’re not rude, then we’ll just move on and be chill. Otherwise... well, we won’t be chill and you can still go, but I’ll consider you a dick. I don’t expect everyone to agree with “Ori is a human”, but why bring that up to me?

This is why a lot of the time, when people talk about characters and my muses, my brain defaults to “Well that has nothing to do with me.” Why should I invest any time being upset that people are disappointed with my portrayal or I’m not what they expected. It’s exhausting. People have some really strong opinions about Lia and Sona sometimes, but... ‘that has nothing to do with me.’ There’s no point in trying to convince someone to try your flavor of ice cream when they’ve already decided what flavor and toppings they want. It just leads to tremendous insecurity. I should not have to argue that ‘my portrayal is worth paying attention to’. 

Ugh. I might be too sensitive about this. There was a point where people really got in the habit of saying, “this is how character x is” ( not their muse ), and it felt like someone trying to enter my kitchen. It did not feel like a suggestion or an idea. It was an assertive, “this is how Irelia is” by, say... a Ry/ze or Ken/nen blog or something. That felt extremely isolating and alienating to me, because it felt like I could not participate in that conversation at all. Or stuff after. I had to sideline myself, because... that has nothing to do with me or my interpretations. Ofc griping at them is wrong because I know they mean, ‘this is how I see it’, but ye. I’m short tempered and easily upset. Working on it.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  — um? bye? hello?

god I used to go “ ok that’s cool you don’t like my portrayal, here are some other great So/na blogs that I love” but I realized that I was directing someone who felt the need to tell me my portrayal or character is bad to those people... and no. no no no. I still feel a little guilty about it, because thinking I directed a toxic person to my duplicates...  yuck.

If you don’t like the characters, or you don’t like my divergent takes, that’s fine. I get it’s not for everyone. Just unfollow me. You’re not paying me. You’re not under any obligation. To an extent, i don’t mind being critical of the character, but there’s a difference between being critical and being hateful to someone’s muse? And it depends a lot on how close I am with a person. For example, I think Sy/las is a complete scumbag and I hate him, but I don’t go yelling that to every Sy/las blog I see. C’mon.

Another bit of salt but it’s... kind of a sad topic, really. There are some characters people love to hate, whereas other ones get the ‘protection squad’. And in general it’s really disheartening to see someone shittalk Lux every two weeks, but go ‘these other champs are off limits’. If you have that attitude, it makes me think you’ll shittalk my characters the moment they get popular ( COUGHIRELIACOUGH ) and that’s kind of sad. And mean. So general advice on this is: Probably just don’t tell someone you hate their muse, you know? Idk. Everyone has their own tolerance level too so. meh.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  Somewhat.  Not much to say here, sometimes I am very tired, sometimes I comma splice like a madman, sometimes I overuse hyphen dashes to avoid deciding whether to use a comma, period, or semicolon - like this. I don’t need an editor. English is my first language. But if there’s something egregious or you have tips, let me know? I’m someone who looks up grammar rules regularly, and breaks teh rules just as regularly. Knowing when and how to break grammar rules is useful. Though I do tend to... overuse something once I’ve learned it. Hyphen dash, I’m looking at you.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   — Yes and no. I’m chill, I can be a little overly passionate, and I’m pretty quick to apologize... But I have certain moral standards and if you break those, you’re done. Also I can be a vengeful bastard. I try to give as much benefit of the doubt as I can and many chances, but I’ve noticed that I really... have a sour attitude towards a lot more people than I expect. Sometimes people who are very well liked, just because they said or did something that ticked me off. Luckily, I have the special skill of not being a jerk even if I don’t like you, and overall trying to be nice to most people, so it usually won’t matter. 

Ah and I can be a little selective in who I talk to / play favorites a bit. I’m a busy person with an adult life and a stressful job, I only have so much patience. I skip from “tolerating it” to “leaving”, and that can seem like I ghosted, but that’s not always the case. Just better to leave than to pick fights. I have some pretty strict standards and harsh opinions. Short temper. Vengeful. Alas.

Somehow people think I am very nice and baby, so take that for what you will. Pft. I just want people to be happy and feel comfortable and okay. Wrong is wrong, blah blah blah ok I stop now.

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

( If you managed to read all this, with 3 full muses... Let me know, I want to hug you??? )

[berjhawn]

Elastic Heart - Part 7 - Azog

Warnings: Fighting, ETC

Pairings: Hobbit X OFC; Thranduil X OFC; Fili X OFC; LOTR X OFC

A/N: Since Tumblr is Broke you’ll have to go to my master-list to find all the other parts. 

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Suddenly a Warg howls out in the distance. Hearing the howling, we realize we are in danger. “Out of the frying pan...” Thorin says as he looks to Gandalf who finishes his sentence, “...and into the fire! Run! RUN!” 

We all start running down the mountain as fast as we can. The Wargs follow us rapidly as it becomes nighttime. Soon the foremost Warg catches up to the group and leaps at Bilbo who ducks behind a rock and the Warg’s jaws snap in the air over his head. The Warg lands in front of him. Growling, it charges at him. Bilbo pulls out his sword and holds it in front of him; the charging Warg impales itself in the head on the sword and falls down dead. Bilbo looks on in surprise.

“Bilbo!” I call as I run back to him right as a few more Wargs catch up to the fleeing dwarves, but they are quickly dispatched. We reach a large outcropping of land with a few trees growing on it; we are trapped there, as there is no way off the outcropping besides a great fall down the mountain.

“Up into the trees, all of you! Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!” Gandalf cries as he starts to climb. Bifur throws an axe, killing a Warg which was approaching him. Bofur jumps off a rock and grabs a tree branch, using Dwalin’s head as a stepping stone to the tree. Other dwarves begin climbing into the trees as well. I quickly climb a nearby tree before realizing Bilbo isn’t next to me.

I look back to see Bilbo trying to pull his sword out of the dead Warg’s head, but it is stuck firmly. He continues to pull. 

“They’re coming!” Thorin cries and right as Bilbo pulls his sword out of the Warg; He looks up to see several more Wargs running at him. Using my legs as an anchor I flip back down and grabbing him pull him up into the trees with us. 

“Go!” I cry as I collect myself and push him further up the tree.  Dozens of Wargs circle the trees in which we are perched. The Wargs cease their growling and turn as the White Warg, with a pale Orc on its back, approaches slowly. Thorin looks at him in shock as he says, “Azog?!”

As his White Warg growls, Azog strokes it and talks ominously. “Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast?” (Do you smell it? The scent of fear) “Ganziligi unarug obod nauzdanish, Torin undag Trainob.” (I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain)

I turn to see that Thorin looks stricken with pain and grief, realizing that Azog had captured his father. Azog speaks to his Wargs and Riders as he says, “Kod, Toragid biriz.” (That one is mine) “Wororida!” (Kill the others) 

At his command, the Wargs leap forward and try to climb the trees. They jump as high as they can, scrabbling at the tree trunks and breaking apart branches in their jaws in their efforts. The trees shake violently at the assault, and we all struggle to hold on.

“Sho gad adol!” (Drink their blood!) Azog cries out into the night air. With the weight of the Wargs climbing it, the furthest tree from the edge of the cliff, which Bilbo, myself, and several other dwarves are in, gets uprooted from the ground and begins leaning wildly. 

As more Wargs grab onto it, the tree tips over and lands on the next tree. We jump from the falling tree to the next. However, this tree as well tips over; like dominoes, all the trees begin falling over. All the dwarves, Bilbo, Gandalf, and myself manage to jump onto the last tree, on the very edge of the cliff.

This tree doesn’t fall over. Azog laughs. Looking around in desperation, Gandalf spies a pine cone. He grabs it and uses his staff to set the pinecone on fire; he then throws it down amid the Wargs, who retreat in fear of the fire. Azog is startled and angry at the unexpected resistance. Gandalf lights two more pinecones and throws one down to Fili. Fili catches the pinecone. Bilbo and the dwarves gather pinecones and Gandalf sets them on fire; We then throw the flaming pinecones like missiles at the Wargs. All the area around the tree gets set on fire, forcing the Wargs to retreat a distance. At least one Warg gallops away with its fur alight.  

Azog roars in anger and frustration as the dwarves cheer. Suddenly, our cheers turn into cries of fear as the roots of the tree we are in start to give way; the tree tips precariously over the edge of the cliff, but comes to a rest sticking straight out away from the edge of the cliff. Gandalf looks down and sees the ground far, far, below. The dwarves try to hold on as they get flung around. Ori loses his grip on the tree and falls, but manages to grab on to Dori’s leg. “Aahhh! Oh! Oh no!” Ori cries out as Dori calls to Gandalf.

Because of the extra weight, Dori loses his grip on the tree as well and falls, but Gandalf quickly swings his staff down and Dori grabs on to the end of it as he calls, “Hold on, Ori!” Azog growls; Thorin, clinging to the tree, looks at him in hate and anger. Thorin pulls himself up, his sword drawn, and walks down the leaning trunk as I and the others, hanging from the tree, look on. Thorin runs through the burning ground at Azog and his White Warg. Azog spreads his arms wide with a smug grin on his face. Thorin growls as he runs with his sword up and his oaken branch shield held in front of him.

Azog crouches, then roars as his Warg leaps at Thorin. Thorin tries to swing his sword, but the Warg hits him in the chest with its forepaw, smashing Thorin to the ground. The other dwarves in the tree including myself look on in shock. As Thorin gets back on his feet, panting, Azog and his White Warg wheel around and charge at Thorin again. Azog swings his mace and smashes Thorin in the face before he can react. Thorin is brutally flung to the ground by the impact.

I hear the dwarves cry out in anguish but all I can do is stare at him my body full of fear. Azog roars in excitement. Bilbo manages to stand up on the tree. The White Warg clamps its jaws around Thorin and he yells in pain. Dwalin tries to get off and tree to assist Thorin, but the tree branches he is holding on to break, swinging him precariously over the edge and preventing him from reaching Thorin. “Thorin!” I cry out along with my companions.

As the White Warg holds Thorin in its mouth, Thorin manages to hit its head with the pommel of his sword. Roaring, the White Warg throws Thorin several feet away onto a flat rock nearby. Thorin lands heavily, his sword falling out of his hand. He is almost unconscious. 

“Biriz torag khobdudol.” (Bring me the Dwarf’s head) Azog says to one of his Warg Riders who jumps off his Warg and approaches Thorin. Bilbo, seeing this, pulls out his own sword, which glows blue. The orc approaches Thorin and places its sword against his neck; raising the sword, the rider prepares to decapitate Thorin.

As he swings his sword down, Bilbo throws himself at the Orc and knocks him over. As they fight, Bilbo manages to stab and kill the Orc. As Azog growls in anger, Thorin goes unconscious. Pulling his sword out of the dead Orc’s body, Bilbo stands in front of the unconscious Thorin and protects his body. He waves his sword wildly at Azog and the other Wargs. Azog smiles in hatred and speaks in the Black Speech to his Orcs, “Kill him.” 

Pulling myself up, I clutch Ithildin and ripping him from his sheathe feel adrenaline fill my body. A couple of Wargs and Riders approach Bilbo, snarling. Suddenly, Fili, Kili, Dwalin, and myself, plow into the Wargs from the side and start fighting them.

In the confusion, Bilbo yells and leaps forward, wounding a Warg. I make my way toward Azog anger seething throughout my body. As I make my way to him I am distracted by another Orc and turn to fight him. After I slit his throat I glance over to see Fili, Kili, and Dwalin have been surrounded by Wargs, and Bilbo is at Azog’s mercy. 

Suddenly Eagles appear and grabbing some of the Wargs and Orcs toss them over the cliff. Others knock down trees, which crush the Wargs below them. Another Eagle fans the flames with its wings, causing an inferno which burns the Wargs.

Azog snarls in frustration. One Eagle gently grabs Thorin and his sword in its talons and flies away. As Thorin is lifted off the ground, his oaken branch shield slips off his arm and lands on the ground. Azog roars and jumps back as an Eagle flies by him; the Eagle heads straight for an alarmed Bilbo and snatches him off the ground. The rest of the Eagles proceed to snatch the dwarves out of the tree and fly away. As one nears me I jump onto his back and let him carry me away.

I feel the wind blow my hair back out of my face making me squint my eyes. The Eagles soar through the sky over a great distance and over many landscapes. Thorin lies unconscious in one Eagle’s talons; the others worry about him. 

“Thorin!” I hear Fili cry and manage a glance in his direction. The Eagles approach a massive rock structure shaped like a bear; It is the Carrock. The Eagle carrying Thorin gently deposits him and his sword on a flat area on top of the Carrock. Another Eagle lands on the Carrock and Gandalf slides off its neck, running toward the unconscious Thorin.

“Thorin! Thorin.”Gandalf calls but Thorin is not responding. 

When the Eagle I was riding drops me off I stand frozen as I stare Thorin as a sudden realization fills my body. The last thing I had said to him was that he was selfish. As I stare at his unconscious body his form starts to blur with my father’s making my eyes fill with tears and my heart stops. Gandalf places his hand on Thorin’s face and whispers a spell. Thorin’s eyes flutter open and he gasps for air. He speaks weakly, “The halfling?”

“It’s all right. Bilbo is here. He’s quiet safe.” Gabdalf says as the rest of my companions surround the wounded Thorin. Dwalin and Kili help Thorin up. However, once he’s up, he shrugs them off and approaches Bilbo. 

“You! What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild and that you had no place amongst us?”

Thorin advances until he is face to face with Bilbo, who looks worried and frightened. My sadness is instantly replaced with annoyance until Thorin continues, “I’ve never been so wrong in all my life!” 

Thorin grabs Bilbo and embraces him deeply. The other dwarves cheer loudly and slap each other on the back while Gandalf smiles. Bilbo, looking quite surprised, hugs Thorin back. “I am sorry I doubted you.” Thorin says as he pulls away. 

“No, I would have doubted me too. I’m not a hero or a warrior...not even a burglar.” As everyone chuckles, the Eagles fly away, screeching. I feel a hand gently touch mine and I turn to see Fili who is staring at me concerned.

I instantly wipe my eyes as I say, “I’m fine.” He nods and I look back to Thorin who looks beyond Bilbo and sees something; he strides forward, and the others follow his gaze. 

“Is that what I think it is?” Bilbo ask as we see off in the distance the outline of a single, solitary mountain.

“Erebor—The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth.” Gandalf says and Thorin smiles as he says, “Our home.” A bird cheeps and flies by. 

“A raven! The birds are returning to the mountain.” Oin says and I chuckle as more birdsong is heard.

“That, my dear Oin, is a thrush.” Gandalf says and I feel a smile cross my lips as Thorin says, “But we’ll take it as a sign a good omen.” 

“You’re right. I do believe the worst is behind us.” Bilbo says but you can’t help but feel he is wrong. We all look on at the Lonely Mountain as the sun comes up behind us.

Will Continue - 

[sorenmarie87]

Wild Card

Part 4/Final Part  

Previous Parts -  Draw Four | Reverse | Skip 

Summary:  It’s time for you to take some photos with your boys and you are left with a few questions until someone unexpected offers you answers.

Pairing(s):  Sam x Dean x Cas x Reader (Dragon! Reader), Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader, Cas x Reader,  Dean x Cas. Mention’s readers past relationship with Alatariel (OFC) x Isamu (OMC) and possible/past relationship with Gabe x Reader.  

Square filled: Photo shoot (SPN Fluff Bingo)

Word Count: 3,086

Warning: Light angst.  Mostly fluff.  Jealous Dean.  Smut.  We learn someone’s true identity.  

A/N: Written for @spnfluffbingo.  Well here it is at last the final part.  Huge shout out to everyone who helped with this.  It’s been a long time coming.  Don’t fret guys - this isn’t the last we’ll see of these guys <3  I’ve had a sequel planned for a long time now.  This was my first time attempted to write Chuck, I hope he turned out okay.  

I do not own the pictures in my story aesthetic - I found them on pinterest.

Forever Tags - @lovetusk​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @mirajanefairytailmage​  ​@kazosa​ @soythedemonqueen​ @docharleythegeekqueen@holyfuckloueh@ellen-reincarnated1967 @ravenangel33

SPN Tags - @clockworkmorningglory@underestimatemethatwillbefun@nyxveracity @lefthologramdeer 

While the boys were gone, you were attempting to tidy up the library.  There were books that you knew the boys weren't using anymore, so you were going to put them back where they were before. The bunker was quiet for the most part.  You had music blaring from your phone while you were cleaning, it was a playlist that Sam and Dean put together for you.  

The reason you were currently alone?  The boys were on a hunt a few states away.

You were trying to pay full attention when Dean explained where they were going and what they were hunting.  It wasn't your fault you were distracted - Sam kept making faces at you while Dean was talking and when he grinned, he knew he had you.  

Those damn dimples.  

You were so absorbed with cleaning that you didn't feel arms wrap around your waist or the chin that was on you shoulder.  “I think you might be losing your touch.”  

You shifted your weight and flipped Sam onto the library floor.  You straddled his waist and stared down at him with a grin.  “Who's losing their touch?”  

Leaning forward, you brushed a stray hair from his face and you gently pressed your lips to his.  Sam shifted below you and deepened the kiss.

“If I wanted to watch someone getting frisky, I would've watched porn.”  You rolled your eyes at the older Winchester but you knew he was just messing with the two of you.  “Were you okay here by yourself Y/N?”

“Of course.”  You watched him set his duffel down on the table and gently press his lips against your cheek.  “Welcome home, Dean.”

“Wasn't Cas behind you?”

“He was but he said there was something he had take care of with Gabriel.”

You were going to ask who the hell Gabriel was but you left it alone.  

--

Something was wrong.  You were curled into Sam's side when you felt the air change around you.  Opening your eyes, you realized that you weren't in the bunker anymore.  “What the hell…”  You caught a glance of yourself in the mirror and when your eyes flashed gold, you knew it was just a matter of time.  You untangled yourself from Sam before transforming.  You sighed and instead of climbing back into bed (like that would be a good idea), you made yourself as comfy as you could at the foot of the bed.

Sam woke up confused and alone.  He reached for you and noticed your side of the bed was cold.  Sam sat on the edge of the king sized bed and waited for his eyes to adjust to the rooms natural lighting.  When he saw your tail flip from in front of the bed, he carefully made his way towards you.  He called out for Dean and Cas but his cries fell on deaf ears.

“Y/N, sweetheart are you okay?” You nudged his side and growled low in your throat when you sensed someone else was in the room with you.

“Samsquatch, how's it hanging?”  

“Gabe - what the hell?  Where are we?”

“Gabe, why does that name sound familiar?”

“This is my first time meeting you, doll.”

“Two questions - where the hell are we, and where are Dean and Cas?”

“Don’t worry about Dean-o and my baby brother for now.  You’ll see them later.”

“That still doesn’t answer where we are.”

“I have it on good authority that someone here enjoys collecting photos.”  

“Wait...are you serious?”

“As a heart attack, sweetheart.”  The three of you are in an abandoned warehouse that was set up to look like a photographer’s studio with multiple sets.  You felt Sam running his hand through your mane as you looked around.  “There's just one problem with this.”

“You were expecting a female human, not a female dragon huh?”

“This form is beautiful, don't get me wrong.  I just can't do anything photo wise.”

“You could but this isn't what I wanted.”  

You closed your eyes for a split second and when you heard what sounded like fingers snapping, you opened your eyes wide.  Sam and Gabriel were discussing something away from you.  Your eyes focused and you realized there was a small stack of photo albums in front of you.  One was partially open, so you carefully moved your claw and nudged it.  You smiled when you realized these were some of the extras from your shoe boxes.  Carefully flipping to the next page, you smiled when you saw your very first picture.  It was of Isamu, Alatariel and you.  You felt tears trickle down your cheek, and when you pulled your hand away, you realized you had shifted back.

“Y/N, what's wrong?”  Sam watched you sniffle as he pulled you in for a hug.  

“Just remembering some things from the past.”

“Whoa Sammy, who's the hottie?” He heard you chuckle as Sam shifted you in his arms, making sure to cover you up.  

“It’s nice to finally meet you Gabe.”

“Likewise, sweet cheeks.”  He watched as you smiled and met his eyes.  

“Okay so, how is this going to work?”  

“What I need you to do right now.”  Gabe paused and snapped his fingers.  He handed you the flannel shirt and you looked up at Sam confused.  “Put Samsquatch’s flannel on, and go make yourself comfy on that bed.”

You wanted to question it but Sam released you from his arms and you slipped his flannel over your naked body.  You held the shirt together as you made your way over to the bed.  “Hey Sammy, any ideas on how I should do this?”  Sam was no help.  

Gabe could tell by the look on your face that you were still nervous.  He gave you some pointers on how to you could pose and even got you to relax by telling you some jokes.  

“Looking good there dollface.”  You had to look over your shoulder at him, but you tried not moving.  You were facing away from the headboard with one arm across your lower belly and the your right index finger was resting between your lips.  Your left leg was bent slightly, and the shirt was left unbuttoned.  Sam helped you position it just right, and he moved out of the way as soon as the camera started flashing.  

“Okay next outfit.”  You heard Gabe call out and snap his fingers.  It landed next to you on the bed and you smirked.  Shedding the red and blue flannel, you glanced down at your next outfit.  It was one of your FBI outfits - a light blue button up with with a black miniskirt.  

You put on the solid white bra first, and then draped yourself with the shirt.  You left the top two buttons undone, and when Sam peeked over his shoulder, you watched a smile form.

“Get your skirt on, Y/N.  I think I have an idea for this next photo.”  You finished dressing and you felt Sam grab your hand.  You took a few steps and he stopped.   He turned around to face you and that's when you felt it.  He had a handful of your left boob and was gently kneading it.  You bit the inside of your cheek and waited for this picture to be taken.

“So, you come here often?”  You tried to hold back a laugh but you couldn't.   

“Sam, stop coping a feel for a few minutes and let’s take this picture, okay?”

“Fine.”   

--

You felt Sam gently kiss your cheek before Gabe snapped him out of the room.  You blinked and in that instance, you outfit changed and Dean was standing off to the side.  “Having fun yet, sweetheart?” You kisses his lips softly and pulled away from him.

“I wasn’t at first.”

“I told Cas it was a bad idea to move you during the night but did he listen, no.  I'm sorry about that.”  He kissed the top of your head and hugged you.  He pulled away slowly, and got a good look at what you were wearing.  “Wow, you look amazing.  I hope you get to keep this and wear it around the bunker.”

You felt Dean guide you to the full length mirror and you finally understood what he meant.  You were currently in a Batman crop top, white and black hipster underwear and knee high socks that matched.

“You don't dress up a good looking girl like that, and not let her keep what she’s wearing.”  You watched as Gabe winked at you and Dean pulled you closer.  

“Okay Dean, you need to help me out here.”  

Dean weighed his options and he led you to a different set.  He smiled as he released you.  Gabe was giving you pointers again, and you couldn't help but watch Dean.  His arms were folded as he stood off in the corner watching the two of you.  He knew he had nothing to be jealous of, he knew that but yet something about the situation was bothering him.  

“Dean-o, we need you for this one.  Your lady requested it.”

--

It was lightly raining but yet the sun was shining.  You smiled at Dean as your clothes changed and he pulled you into his arms.  You tried pulling back, but you were stuck.  “Okay, what's wrong?”

“Nothing.”  You cocked an eyebrow and looked up at Dean.  His green eyes met yours, and you sighed.

“It's not nothing, hun.  Something has you upset.”

‘'m not upset.”  You heard him mumble something into your neck as he backed the two of you up and pinned you down against the stone picnic table.  

“What was that?”  Dean refused to answer you no matter how many times you asked.  He was kissing and biting your neck, as he held you close.  You tried pulling away again but Dean put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you in for a hungry kiss.  

“Dean.”  You pulled away and tried catching your breath.  “Seriously, is it that hard to answer me?” He tried capturing your lips again but you put your hand over his mouth.  It wasn't until you felt him nibbling on your fingers, that you raked your other hand through his short hair with a sigh.  

Dean spoke again, sounding more like Charlie Brown’s teacher's than the strong and assured hunter that he is.

“Dean, please… use words.”

“I was jealous, dammit.”  You heard him mumble through your hand.  He kissed your palm, and moved it away. “I didn't want you to know, it's embarrassing.”

“Oh Dean.”  You kissed his check and cupped his face.  “After all of this is over, let me take care of you.”

“Really sweetheart?”  He watched you blush and nod.  You saw flashes from the corner of your eye and with Dean's encouragement, you finally found the right pose.  

--

Pulling Dean away from you after his photoshoot was over was hard.

You heard a flutter of wings behind you, and the two of you turned.  “Hey Cas..”  You felt his lips press against your cheek and you grinned.  

“Y/N.”  You watched as Dean made a circular motion with his hand and you shook your head.  You thought it was cute that Dean was still shy about his relationship with Cas.  

“Hey sugar, how are you doing?” You were still in your previous clothes as Gabe looked over his shoulder and smiled.

“Oh sweetpea, I'm fine.”

“You sure?” You placed your right on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.  He placed his hand on top of yours for a split second and removed it when Dean and Cas walked over to where you were.  

“I'm excited to see what you came up with for us.”  You smiled at Cas and with a snap of his fingers, Dean was gone and you were in your next set of clothes.  “Wait, is that...a laundromat?”

“Yep.”  

“Wait, I have an idea.  Y/N, please take a seat in the laundry cart.”

“I like where this is headed Cas.”  He made sure the cart was stable with you in it before he attempted to push it up and down the aisle.  “Don't let me fall though.”

“I will do everything in my power to make sure no harm comes to you.  Dean and Sam would be very upset.”  You laced your hand with Cas’s as he brought you around the corner.  You raised both hands in the air with a smile on your face.  Even Cas grinned.  

You watched as Gabe took a few more pictures and Cas helped you out of the laundry cart.  “Just one more photo, are you excited Y/N?”

“Of course.”  You heard Cas snap his fingers and your outfit changed for the final time.  

“I always knew you'd look good in one of my shirts.”

You chuckled at that.  “It's official - Dean has rubbed off on Cas!”   You heard Gabe snort behind you in agreement.

“He has done no such thing…”  

“You want him to right?”  You smirked as his face tinted pink.  “I won't tell, I promise.”

“Someday but that's a conversation to have in private though.”  Your lips found his for a brief kiss and he led you over to another room.  This one had a cream colored couch along the wall.

You groaned as soon as you laid down on the couch.  Your head was propped up slightly with your right hand, and you were tugging at Cas’s tie with your left.  “Last picture, you excited Y/N?”

You gave a quick thumbs up as Gabe shooed his brother away.  

--

“Hey Gabe, why don’t you take a couple photos with Y/N?  I know she would love it.”  You were sitting up with your back up against the arm of the couch.  You were fussing with the hem of the white button down you were wearing as you watched the two of them talk.  Cas might’ve missed it but when Gabe took a look at you, all you saw was sadness.  

“I appreciate the offer but,”  Gabe snapped his fingers and in your hands two different pictures appeared along with a DVD case.  “I'll pass, no offense doll.”  You watched him turn away from the two of you.  “I’ve already had my opportunity to do that.”  

You leaned forward and took a good long look at what was in your hands.  It was you in those pictures -  the first picture you were in what appeared to be a bathtub with gumballs all over you and in the second one, Gabe was in a white dress shirt and black tie with slacks.  He was holding you up and his hand was placed firmly on your ass.  

There was a pink post-it stuck on the front of the DVD that just simply stated ‘Watch me.’  

Your eyes widened but as soon as you were ready to say something, you were snapped back home to the bunker.  You would be spending time with Dean later but for now, you went into your room.  You made sure to put these two new photos in one of your shoe boxes.  Curiosity was getting the better of you, so you flopped on your bed and pulled your laptop closer to you.  You opened the disc drive, popped in the dvd, and started watching.  There was something very familiar about all of this.  

The remains of her underwear were on the floor in front of the bed, and he didn’t bother removing her thigh high socks or skirt.  You watched as he teased her clit with his tongue and she arched her back when he hit that sweet spot.  He added another finger, and you watched her face as she reached climax.  You shifted the laptop on your bed and as the girl on the screen cried out, you froze.  Pausing and rewinding the video a bit, you watched it again, listening carefully to the sounds she was making.  It wasn’t until there was a close up of her face, that you paused it once again.  

“Guys?”  How was this possible?  You heard the three of them rush towards your room and flung the door open.

“What’s wrong?”  You held up a finger and turned the laptop towards the three of them.  You pushed play again and waited.  “Is that...?”

“I believe that is Y/N, is it not?”

Dean paused it perfectly on a shot of you.  “That’s me all right.  I don’t remember this though.”  

“I might have an explanation for that one.”

He was standing in the doorway with arms crossed, but you had no idea who he was.  “Chuck?”

“Hey guys.  Wow, Gabriel was right, you are beautiful.”

“Thank you?”  You flushed.  “I hate to be rude but, who are you?”

“You really don't remember, do you?”  He chuckled softly to himself with a sad smile.  “I can remedy that but only if you want me to.”

“Can I have some time to think about this?”

“Of course.  If you ever need me, just pray and I'll be here.”  Cas had his arms around you the instant Chuck disappeared.  He gave you a gentle squeeze before leaving the room and Sam kissed you on top of your head.  

You were left alone with Dean and he grinned.  “So princess, I believe you promised me something.” He backed you up and your legs hit the bed.  “I can tell you're distracted right now, so I can wait.”  

“Can we cuddle? I'll be the big spoon if you want.”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect.  Could we -”

“Yes Dean, we can finish watching this together.”  You felt his lips on your cheek and he grinned.  The two of you got comfy on your bed and you restarted what you were watching once again.  

Dean had drifted off to sleep beside you, and that left you alone with your thoughts.  What did Chuck mean?  There were so many questions you had - why did it feel like you knew Gabriel before?  Why did those pictures exist and why were you in a porn with him?  You thought long and hard before you came to your conclusion.

“Hey Chuck, I mean that’s what Dean called you, so I assume that’s your name.  I want to know what I forgot.  I have so many questions that are unanswered - “  You felt his hand brush some of your hair aside and gently kiss your forehead.  You closed your eyes and just like that, memories you had long forgotten came rushing back.

“Welcome back, Kaida.”