#ori is horrified

[embras-grace]

Humans must be terrifying to the Majiri at first. I mean...

A. they can just eat and eat and eat. They don't have to stop when Focus is full, they just keep going.

B. They never sleep. Ever. They are up at all hours. Maybe this is because a Majiri day is rather short--but humans lived on this planet too so maybe they're just.... weird?

C. They can climb and run all day without a break. They can mine and chop wood without breaking a sweat.

D. They have no fear of going into old ruins or the Elderwoods because, like... they're humans? What's the worst that could happen, they just reform in stardust again cause mama Embra was like "ugh damn it, they died again"

[origamihoshi]

I like to think people keep giving Serina tacos because someone saw how Serina normally eats and so all of Tuliyollal is trying to get her to eat right

[jewishzevran]

.

[leavesonthetrees]

Not a Bloody Clue

Summary: Bilbo has decided it’s high time he cuts his hair, it’s far past a respectable length at this point. Unfortunately, the rest of the company have ✨thoughts✨ about that.

One thing about hobbit hair is that it grows inconveniently fast. Apart from the hair on their feet, hair in general is just seen as a nuisance as it’s just better to keep it cut short or tied back unless it’s a special occasion. Foot hair on the other hand must always be groomed carefully, rather uncouth not to.

By the time the company have reached Beorn’s rather battered and bruised, some more so than others, Bilbo’s hair was somewhere around mid-back. A rather beautiful cascade of riotous chestnut curls, or it would’ve been had it not been tangled, dirty and he was sure he heard chirping somewhere in that mess. Their gracious host had an unfortunate habit of just plucking Bilbo off the ground into his arms which while Bilbo did not appreciate, he did however appreciate the large spread of milk, cheeses, honey, bread and other assorted platters. Once their bellies were full, they filled their hearts with laughter and music. Beorn excused himself to verify their story, saying he’d be back by the time they woke and Gandalf had dozed off in the corner under his hat.

Bilbo was readying himself for bed, his body felt ready for bed about three weeks ago but his hobbit sensibilities demanded that he sort himself out. There was a small mirror in the bathroom Beorn had shown them to and Bilbo winced at the sigh of his hair; matted, one side caked in fluids he had no business thinking about and not to mention how un-respectable it was. He was well aware that the quest did not have room nor the facilities for all his particular habits nor the need to retain his reputation and manners but all the same, it was nice to have some comfort in the familiarity. Bilbo twirls a curl around his finger and sighs. Had he known what the 80’s were, he might’ve been pleased but as it was, he didn’t and wasn’t happy at all. The little wooden comb he has brought within him from the Shire almost immediately snapped in the mess of hair, not to mention how much it hurt. The prospect of using his other comb, his mother’s that she brought back from her time in Rivendell was out of the question.

“Should cut the bloody stuff off.” He huffs quietly, trying the untangle some of his with his fingers to no avail. Plan in place, Bilbo comes back out the the larger room and starts rifling through what’s left of the contents of his pack.

“What you looking for Bilbo?” Calls Bofur from where’s he sat across the room, pipe in hand.

“Scissors.” Replies a frustrated looking Bilbo. “Fiddlesticks, must’ve not brought any with me.”

“Here you are.” Dori fishes a pair of sewing scissors from a little case in his pack.

“Thank you Dori.” Bilbo walks over to take them from him. “I suppose it might take a while as they’re quite little but I’ll sharpen them and give them back to you.”

“Ye can borrow my wet stone.” Dwalin supplies from his spot next to Gloin. “What’re ye using them for anyway?”

“Oh, thank you. Well I thought I’d cut my hair.” Bilbo says inspecting the scissors. The room stills, silent and tense. Bilbo looks up at the abrupt, eerie quiet, startled when Dori lunges and pulls the scissors for him hand, clutching them to his chest with horrified expression. Kili and Ori have tears in their eyes and everyone else isn’t far behind.

“Cut your hair?” Asks Balin hoarsely. “Why lad?” Bilbo’s brow creases with confusion.

“Well it’s simply too long and getting in the way. It’s in a terrible state and I just need to cut most of it off.”

Horrified gasps ripple across the room. A very solemn Thorin crosses to Bilbo and drops to a knee in front of him.

“Master Baggins.” Thorin begins, his voice shaking a little. “I sincerely apologise for any grievous offence my behaviour or any member of my company have caused you. Please, tell us how we have wronged you so that we may fix it. I beg of you do not cut your hair.”

Thorin pulls a small blade from his boot and brings it to the braid on his right temple.

“I take sole responsibility and offer you my braid and the bead that denotes me as king until we have offered sufficient reparations and you have forgiven me.”

Before Thorin can flick his wrist to remove the braid, Bilbo is moving, catching Thorin’s hand in a tight grip.

“Stop, stop!” Bilbo’s eyes are wide with panic. “Don’t cut your hair. No one has offended me. I simply want to cut my hair, it is too long and it bothers me.”

Thorin’s hand falters.

“But why would you cut it? Why not braid it?”

“I never learnt to braid hair, it just seems easier.” But Thorin looks absolutely heartbroken, eyes glassy with tears. There is such an aura of sadness around him, around all of them that Bilbo feels he would be cruel to cut it, even if hair holds no significance to him personally.

“What do you suggest then?” Bilbo carefully guides the dagger away from Thorin’s braids.

“Braid it, obviously.” Dwalin says like Bilbo is the thickest creature in Middle Earth. Bilbo rolls his eyes and gives Dwalin a hard stare, just like his grandmother used to when he was a being rude as a faunt.

“I already said I don’t know how.” The silence hangs in the air for a few seconds before Bilbo huffs.

“Any other suggestions?” The dwarves look among each other, exchanging glances and meaningful looks.

“Right, well, hair doesn’t mean anything to hobbits, other than the hair on your feet, you can do what you like with it. So if there’s no further objection, I would like those scissors back Dori.”

“I will braid it!” Thorin blurts out in a panic. All eyes turn to him, a mixture of surprise, delight and some disappointment? Bilbo just nods slowly.

“Alright then…do you want to wash it too?” A second round of gasping, Bilbo’s honestly getting fed up of it now. Thorin is bright red and stammering, clearly taken aback.

“I-I’m flattered by I think I better leave that to you for now.”

Coin purses are being thrown across the room, Khudzul flying about, Bofur and Nori look strangely upset. Bilbo simply rolls his eyes and plonks himself down next to the fire.

“You’ll have to use your comb Thorin, mine’s broken.” Thorin’s eyes look like they’re going to bug out of his head and did Gloin just coo at them? This is getting stranger by the minute.

“Here? In front of everyone?” Thorin stammers, Bilbo briefly wonders if Thorin’s having an attack of some kind, dwarves should not be that shade of red.

“Yes? Should we not?” A shy smile that not once in a million years did Bilbo think he would ever see, creeps across Thorin’s cheeks.

“Not at all. Here is perfect.” Honestly, at this point Bilbo is a little creeped out but Thorin is rummaging through his pack, producing a comb and a small vial. He positions himself so Bilbo is sat on the ground in between his knees. The touch to his hair is almost reverent, the comb barely pulling as Thorin works methodically through the knots. At the particularly matted section, Thorin unstoppers the little vial and pours some fragrant oil into his hands, it smells of pine and bergamot. Dear Yavanna his hands are absolutely divine! Thorin works the oil into Bilbo’s hair and scalp, working it in small circles with his hands from his temples to his pressure points by his ears. Lost in the bliss, Bilbo makes a soft noise of pleasure and lets his head hang heavier in Thorin’s hands.

Unbeknownst to Bilbo, Thorin grins rather triumphantly and with no small about of smugness at Bofur and Nori, Nori makes a rather rude gesture in Iglishmêk which Dori swats at him for. All too soon in Bilbo’s opinion, Thorin’s voice is gently coaxing him back to reality.

“Hmm?” Bilbo says, blinking slowly, a soft sleepy smile on his face.

“I said you need to wash your hair before I can braid it.” Thorin returns the smile and Bilbo thinks briefly how much younger it makes him look, how sweetly the skin around his eyes crinkles.

“Oh yes. Back in a jiffy.” Bilbo has never washed his hair faster in his life, he does take a moment to scold himself for behaving like a faunt with their first crush.

“He is doing you a favour, nothing more.” Bilbo says under his breath, lathering the honey scented soap into his hair.

Smelling of far nicer and feeling much more refreshed, Bilbo retakes his position back between Thorin’s knees. There’s tension in the room but Thorin waves it away when Bilbo enquires with a “Nothing important, just minor disagreements.” And sets about braiding Bilbo’s damp curls into a tight but comfortable braid, leaving a small section at the front. He ties it off with a strap of leather before clearing his throat.

“Bur- Bilbo. I had no time to prepare a suitable bead for this occasion, when we reach Erebor I shall craft one for you out of gold and sapphires to indicate your status better. In its place, temporarily, will you accept one of my own beads?” Bilbo twists to look at Thorin, his hands fiddling with a bead, the braid at his left temple unraveled.

“That would be lovely, thank you Thorin.” Bilbo gives him a gentle smile, a little confused but he’s got the spirit.

The look that Thorin gives him as he carefully weaves the braid into his curls, makes his stomach flip. There’s a vulnerability and softness in his eyes which a whispered part of Bilbo longs for it to be romantic. Thorin clips the bead in place and secures the braid, the air between the two of them seems to crackle with an unspoken emotion.

A great cheer goes up from the rest of the dwarves which startles the both of them, he hadn’t noticed how close he had been to Thorin’s lips. He reaches up to feel the back of his head, neatly tied into an intricate braid that he could never hope to replicate, the little bead on the front braid resting cool against his burning cheeks. Bilbo’s got a very strong feeling something rather significant had just happened and he’s not got a bloody clue about it.

[spicyicetea]

Okay so the poll isn't over yet, but I wanted to post the draft I had as I'm worried I would forget it and hey, Halloween upload. This is more of a scenario than a long fic, under 1000 words. As per usual, MDNI this story contains suggestive content (no smut don't worry) Yandere behaviour (meaning mentions of violence, possessive behaviour) I hope I didn't slip up but the reader should be completely gender neutral but just in case, I do usually picture Y/N as having female genitalia. I don't think I mention any fem indicators but fair warning.

Yandere!Fallen angel Lucius X Nurse!reader

Rage, nothing but rage ran through the veins of the holy being, wings crumbling to ash around them. How dare they! How dare his god forsake him like this. He would have preferred to have been cast to the fiery pits like his brothers before him. His soft peach hair curled around his eyes, framing the wild gold. The world stops around him as your hand finds the skin between his shoulder blades. The poor entity that touched him... how their time on this earth was now rapidly depleting. Looking over his shoulder, your eyes met, his scanning the form of the being who dared lay eyes upon him in this moment of weakness. 

"Excuse me... can I help you in any way?"

In your hand was a small box, with a red plus. Having been a guardian angel he recognised it immediately, a first aid kit. You were here to help him? The scrubs covering your body told a story themself. A dedicated doctor that wanted nothing more than to help people, even the crumbling man before you. He saw you, your whole being, mind, body and soul. What a gorgeous soul... he has found his new deity. The entity he will worship to the ends of the earth, his god/goddess that he will bring forth the end of the heavens above for, no matter the cost to himself or humanity.

The feathers of his wings ruffled up as he tried to calm himself. Showing such a dishevelled side to his darling deity? Preposterous. He observed your demeanour like a hawk, narrowing his eyes to focus in on each and every movement. The twitch of your brow as your fingers swiftly opened the first aid kit, trying to gauge what would even be useful treating a creature like him. The dilation of your pupils as you ripped out the gauze, unwrapping the bandages and ushering him forwards. Before he could even warn you to avoid his bloodied wings, you wrapped a loop of gauze around it. The wing crumbled as you tightened the fabric, ash like remains falling to the ground. Your scream filled the air and that anger returned. Not directed towards you, but back at his bastard creator. How dare he be designed with such a horrifying flaw? How dare he be designed to scare you. 

Torn from his deprecating thoughts by your sniffles, he finally raised his head. Messy tears bubbled down your cheeks, nose runny as you hunched over the pile of ash, sifting through it as if searching for something. As your sobs racked your body, it shook his very being. Your bleary, bloodshot eyes met his from below.

“I am so sorry! I had no idea that would happen!”

Your voice wavered as if begging for his forgiveness. Don’t you know you shouldn’t do that? Hush your shaky voice and allow your angel to answer your needs, comfort you in the warmth of his bosom, right the wrongs done against your divine form. He didn’t miss the way you flinched as he raised his hand to grab you. His large hand cocooned your cheek as the other purposefully cast aside the first aid kit you had brought. It flew so far, it no longer remained in your eyeline. His hair surrounded your head as he caged you in, towering over with his inhuman height. Your head was held firmly against the fabric of his robes as he pushed his other arm at the backside of your knees, folding your body up in half and hoisting your body up to his. His hold was warm, delicate, possessive. The warm hand that tightly cupped your thigh rubbed back and forth, venturing further towards your hip before going back to the original position.

From the position you were in, you missed his looks. That wild fire returned. Pupils eclipsing the gold of his Irises, taking in every inch of your body. The soft flesh of your thighs. Warmth radiating from your body to his. Your arms shakily hung over his shoulders. The drum of your heart. He could hear the blood rushing through your body. Fear can be a powerful aphrodisiac. Yet the lack of a throb ,which he had only heard about from those who ascended through the pearly gates, pulsing through your body disappointed him. Instead it was him who was struck with the intense throbbing torture. Of course his god/goddess wouldn’t feel the same way but he still desired you in a way that was unfitting of such a loyal servant. His breathing had gotten heavier without his notice, catching your attention. You had long since stopped crying, holding onto his neck, worried about being dropped. Your eyes met as you looked up at him, something dangerous about the way he stared back. His eyes were like black holes drawing you in, yet you wanted nothing more than to run away, but at the same time to stay wrapped in his embrace. It took a hefty grunt from him to realise you were both moving, your body being jostled with every step he took. 

The being may have looked like an angel, but the nails digging into your skin, as if trying to fuse and become one, certainly didn’t belong to one.

[anon-e-miss]

Reformation - 7

Though Prowl had been aroused enough to tell Jazz, valve interface would most likely be doable so long as they took it nice and easy, he did not think there was any rush to test it. After a two orn long heat, Prowl’s gestational tank was plenty full and his intimate circuitry well deserving of a break. In generally, Prowl deserved a break. He had left his leave open, as was a common thing with working Omegas, given there was no knowing when a heat would end. Some Omegas had short heats, only a few mega-cycles, some had cycles that lasted a quartex. Two orns was a reasonably long heat and even though Omega formatting with stood it well, the longer the heat, the more worn out an Omega was after. Jazz knew from experience Prowl worked hard, too hard to take especially good care of him. Now he had an idea of what might have pushed Prowl to fixated on work and nothing but. It must have been easier to live when he had the distraction of work. How sick had he felt every time Alphas tried to use their fields to make him cow? At least when Jazz had seen it happen, Prowl had never flinched. He was far stronger than he thought he was.

“This is not terrible,” Prowl said, showing Jazz how the armour look. The armour was made of a particularly flexible alloy, and styled with many plates. It flowed over his belly. More plates could be added, along with silicone panels, as his forge extended. Provided, the proto-spark did not reabsorb.

“Is it comfortable?” Jazz asked. Really, that was the only thing that mattered.

“It is,” Prowl replied. Jazz had ordered a new chestplate as well. It hugged his wells rather than compress them and was adjustable as well. He looked good. “I suppose I should see Ratchet.”

“Did ya want me to come with?” Jazz asked. “If ya wanna be alone, that’s yer right.”

“Morale support would be good.”

Jazz was happy with that answer. He did not want Prowl suffering due to the fact Jazz had sparked him up. It did not matter that it was a risk of heats and ruts and one he had been conscious of when he approached Prowl. It was probably his suspicious nature due to his line of work and upbringing, Jazz had not been keen to see just any random Alpha go off with such a valuable Autobot. When he had decided to approach Prowl, he had been prepared to be rejected and to take the rejection like a grown aft mech but he had also been ready to book the room next to where Prowl ended up and to make sure the Alpha that took him was not some Alpha spy. Knowing what he did not, the idea of Prowl being taken prisoner was considerably more horrific. It would be horrifying for any Omega, everyone knew what would happen to a captive Omega, but for Prowl… on some level it would be that much worse.

“I know you took an open leave so I can guess why you’ve come for an examine,” Ratchet said when the treatment door closed. “Just why is this bane of my existence here?”

“Love ya too Ratch,” Jazz replied.

“He saw me through my heat,” Prowl replied. “He heard my spark ignite but I don’t recall feeling anything.”

“I generally trust a Polyhexian’s audio horns,” Ratchet said. “Especially ones as trained for snooping as Jazz’s.”

“I thought the same,” Prowl sighed. 

“Lie down on the berth and I’ll do a scan,” Ratchet directed. “The armour is new.”

“Jazz ordered it,” Prowl replied. “The armour I was wearing pinched my protoform.”

“Good choice,” Ratchet said.

“Ori suggested it,” Jazz replied.

Ratchet opened a holo-emitter and took out a small wand. He ran it over Prowl’s spark. Given the two orns of overloads, Prowl’s spark was swollen and full of excess energy. The scanner documented every reading, noted that the increased depth of Prowl’s spark’s corona was within normal range for an Omega freshly out of heat. Everything was normal. The temperature was elevated but stabilizing and the rate of its pulses was normal as well. It was good, if Prowl’s spark had absorbed the protospark, that was fine, but it was important to observe an Omega’s spark regardless whether you thought they had taken or remained open, there were sometimes complications with an Omega’s spark that needed a medics intervention.

“Look here,” Ratchet said. Jazz saw Prowl tense his jaw before he also turned his helm to the screen.

***

“Is that normal?” Jazz asked. The protospark was oblong, instead of spherical and it looked dense in weird spots.

“It’s splitting,” Ratchet replied. 

“Oh wow,” Jazz stared.

“Twins…” Prowl whispered.

“Sometimes in splitting, one or both will reabsorb. It’s a vulnerable time for any proto-spark but proper splitting takes additional energy and proto-sparks don’t always have it in them.”

“Is there something I, or we should do?” Prowl asked.

“Overload is about the only thing you can do,” Ratchet replied. “No merging. It can confuse them.”

“Can I even carry twins?” Prowl asked and he blanched when he realized he had spoken it out loud.

“Twin carryings are a bit riskier than singletons but only by a small percentage,” Ratchet replied. “There’s no reason for me to believe you’ll have any trouble.”

“I am not a natural Omega,” Prowl replied. Ratchet tensed.

“That is not on your medical records,” he replied.

“I did not want anyone to know,” Prowl said. “Mecha that knew, my fellow enforcers, they treated me as something even worse than an Omega.”

“I don’t gossip about patients,” Ratchet assured him. “I think if I did I’d have Jazz and Punch both after my helm. And, sorry Jazz, I think your originator scares me more.”

“Fair take,” Jazz replied with good humour. There was no doubt in Prowl’s processor that he would be dangerous if he  thought someone had wronged Prowl.

“Your physiology is no different than a natural Omega’s,” Ratchet told him. 

“My pelvis was broken before the reformation was complete,” Prowl explained. “I do not know if it was reconfigured correctly.”

“Let me do some scans,” Ratchet said and he did a detailed scan of Prowl’s pelvic girdle. When it was done, Prowl’s skeletal structure was displayed on the emitter, along with his various components. “I can see the connections between your valve and gestational tank are normal. So is the connection between your gestational tank and forge. The channel between your spark and forge is straight and wide, which is ideal and your pelvis, though it is thicker where it was broken, is well shaped. Every thing looks exactly as I would want it to.”

“Thank you,” Prowl replied.

“Take another orn off,” Ratchet said. “I want to see you again in an orn to see how to split went and I want you to take it easy.”

“Is that really necessary?” Prowl asked. “I prefer to work than to malinger.”

“Necessary is debatable in circles,” Ratchet replied. “Alpha medics might have you back in the fields picking talc but I know better than them. Letting your code settle before you are surrounded by them is ideal.”

“I understand.”

Twins. Holy Primus. 

“Jazz?” He asked.

“My place or yours?” Jazz asked.

“For… oh… you intend to nurse me,” Prowl said.

“I intend to take responsibility,” Jazz replied.

“As you should,” Ratchet interjected. “Go with Jazz to his hab. I know what yours looks like. His at least won’t look like a prison cell.”

[rottencherrypie]

In your opinion how old is the company in human years ? ‘cause like saw something saying kili and filo were 18 and 19 and my 22 year old ass fell off the seat

Hello, dear! I have been dying to talk about my headcanon ages for the company, so thank you for this ask! I rambled on a lot, so my apologies for that, but here are my opinions (and a few chaotic reasonings) on their ages! (Fingers crossed I remembered them all and did not mix-up any names!)

Bilbo - Mid thirties to early forties; around the age most people would deem as a true "adult" and to be expected to know what you are doing with your life. (he does not) Still has whiplash from being called "sir".

Thorin - Around mid forties; old enough to be taken seriously and seen as a "stable adult" whilst also old enough to have any stupid thing he does excused as a "mid-life crisis". (cries when he is not carded for a drink but is also offended when you do not card him for his drink; there is no winning.)

Fili - Around his mid twenties; old enough to be seen as more mature, but also young enough to go to college parties without sticking out like a sore thumb. Still has the metabolism to drink all night without a hangover, but is slowly starting to get the aches and pains associated with aging. (He was horrified to learn that with aging means slower healing.) Is a couple years older than Kili (about two to four years older; old enough to have memories of baby!Kili and to say "when I was your age" to Kili and somewhat be taken seriously, but most of the time is met with "I know, I was there!")

Kili - Early twenties; about twenty-one to anywhere around twenty-three. He is in the peak of being seen as an adult during somewhat serious things (i.e. making doctors appointments by himself) but is also not trusted with actual serious things or view points (hears "you'll understand when you're older" more often than not). Very much golden retriever frat bros energy with him and Fili, though Fili is always pulling him out of some sticky situations.

Ori - Early twenties too; about twenty to twenty-two, just a little bit younger than Kili (but Kili always gloats about it and says "when I was your age" and describes what he was doing a few months ago.) Sweet baby boy is treated much younger than he is simply because he is the company's "baby", but is also treated with a bit more seriously than Kili (simply because Kili pulls way too many pranks). (Side note; Ori absolutely runs a little crochet and knitting business, absolute craftsmanship. An absolute beast on Etsy.)

Dwalin - Late forties to early fifties; older than Thorin but young enough to be going through similar life events. Is taken very seriously (and sometimes does not know why), can easily pass for mid forties (secretly has an intensive skincare routine). (Will become very insulted if you refer to him as an old man...but also calls himself an old man when he pleases.)

Dori - Sixty-five; that is the age he gives over and over regardless of how many birthdays he has had (he will never reveal his true age but many guess it is actually early seventies). Is old enough to remember baby!Thorin (and the chaos he caused). Still has energy to go on adventures...but might need several breaks and promised rest stops just in case. (His bones ache, give the man some pain killers and a heating pad.)

Nori - Late thirties to early forties; was old enough to hold the babies of the group (Ori, Kili, and Fili) but still young enough to be paid to watch them. Sort of grew up around the babies of the group, so they often went to him for advice (and their secrets). Is on the peak of having any actions he does that are a bit "out there" as a mid-life crisis but not just there yet.

Bofur - Late thirties to early forties; just like Nori, he was old enough to hold the babies of the group and young enough to be paid to watch them. They also went to Bofur for advice, but also for the cool toys and trinkets he made (would also do numbers on Etsy). Is a year or so younger than Nori, so has to deal with the "when I was your age" nonsense from him.

Balin - Early to mid seventies; was in his mid-thirties when baby!Thorin was born (and how he adored the little dwarfling...even if baby!Thorin was notorious for pulling hair with an iron grasp) and is seen as a father figure to many of the company. Very wise, but would absolutely fall for those pop-ups on websites (Balin, the hot singles are not in your area! It's a trap! Save yourself!). Would accidentally post photos of himself on TikTok with a weird sound automatically added to it, or accidentally go live when trying to take a photo/video of something. (His posts would thrive on r/oldpeoplefacebook)

Bombur - Late forties to early fifties; the man is peak father energy. Gives "the one cool dad at the soccer games with all the drinks and snacks" vibes (you bet your ass he memorized everyone's dietary needs and allergies, and buys/makes appropriate snacks.) Was old enough to remember baby!Thorin but could only hold him while sitting with several different adults in the room. (Once tried to waddle off with baby!Thorin and take him to the kitchen for snacks, accidentally caused chaos as everyone though Thorin got kidnapped for a second. He had good intentions.) Is seen as a "trusted adult" but also the "cool adult". Is trusted with various secrets (even when he would rather not hear them).

Bifur - Early to mid fifties; a few years older than Bombur, think old enough to be seen as the "cool older kid" back when they were young. Gives me the vibes of someone in between generations and is constantly dragged into the nonsense of "only x kids remember y" and then being told he isn't a real "x year" kid because he was born very late in it. (It gives him a larger headache than the axe in his head.) Does get bad hangovers, but that does not stop him from chugging as much ale as he can get his hands on. (Regrets it the morning after.)

Oin - Mid seventies; is viewed as a senior citizen and hates it...until he gets a discount, then he will play up the age card. Remembers everyone as a baby (and their awkward teen years), and is in the weird in-between of being viewed as a wise adult and being seen as a frail old man (call him an old man and he will bonk you with his ear horn). Surprisingly does not get hang overs and is pretty energetic for his age (for the love of the gods, do not mention his age). Will tell you stories if you ask, especially if you ask him about what has changed in Erebor (will give you a guided tour that ends with you running after him as he speeds through the halls). (Somehow I can see him being a really popular Twitch streamer, that is the only time he finds it acceptable being called "grandpa" by anyone other than his grandbabies)

Gloin - Mid sixties; was a surprise baby (about ten years, if not more, between Oin's birth and his), but was cherished for it. Could easily pass for mid fifties, but has the actions of someone older which gives it away (was very confused when Kili said he knew Gloin was older because "he walks like an old man", proceeded to practice walking for an hour). Can reveal Dori's real age, but doesn't for fun. Would post those weird thirst traps on TikTok (also wood chopping videos and just videos of him ranting about stuff only two people know about, but would have like 200k+ followers for some reason.) Was blessed with the good genes (does not gray regardless of how stressed he is...lucky bastard). (Is still viewed as Oin's "baby brother" despite them both being old men, it is precious)

[actualori]

my fic submission for @mcyt-aro-week !!

day 6: coming out (yes it’s a few days late shhhh)

cws: none really, just some slight angst at one point

word count: 2,590

tldr: ori aro-beams sausage for 2.5k words

There’s one thing in life that Sausage has always wanted. And that was someone to love. Not as a friend, he already has plenty of those. Somebody to love. Somebody to hug and kiss and cuddle. Somebody to shower in care and affection and whisper sweet nothings to. Somebody who he would die for.

However, there’s a problem. No matter how hard he’s tried to find somebody to fill those requirements, he can’t.

He’s dated before, lots of people. At first, he thought maybe he was just dating jerks, but after raising the bar, he didn’t get his desired results. He didn’t get any in fact, he’d raised the bar too high. So he lowered it, maybe too much, which resulted in him dating Xornoth. And after dating them and royally screwing up his life, the bar now floats in some undefined limbo.

Now Sausage doesn’t know where to stand on love. He was very discouraged from his past experiences, but he refused to give up on falling in love.

“I just don’t get it,” Sausage complains, flopping onto fWhip’s bed.

“Don’t get what?” fWhip asks, glancing at him.

“Why can't I fall in love?”

“Maybe because you keep dating jerks? And get off my bed I’m trying to make it.”

Ignoring the request, Sausage sighs dramatically, “But still, it can’t be that hard!”

fWhip scoffs and tosses a blanket over Sausage. “It is, in fact, that hard. Besides, aren’t you already in love with Jimmy?”

“I’m not ‘in love’ with him, we aren’t even dating,” Sausage corrects, pulling the blanket off his face. “Besides, he’s already dating Scott. So unless they break up, which I doubt they will, I don’t have the chance to try and fall in love with him.”

“Thank goodness. I would never forgive you if you tried to date him.”

Sausage takes one of the pillows and throws it at fWhip, making him break out into giggles. “Meanie!” He shouts.

fWhip throws the pillow right back, which starts a short pillow fight between the brothers. Once they stop and catch their breath between their giggles, fWhip lays down next to Sausage.

“Seriously, what do you see in him?” fWhip asks.

Sausage thinks for a moment before answering. “Well, he’s nice, he’s funny, he’s pretty, and he makes an adorable face when he’s mad.”

“To each their own I guess.”

“I like him more than I liked Xornoth.”

“I don’t.”

Sausage stared at fWhip in shock. “Really? You like my horrible ex more than your petty rivalry? You like the demon that ruined my life and corrupted my mind and body and abused me and still gives me those horrifying nightmares?”

fWhip looked away. “I don’t. I’m sorry. I hate Xornoth more.”

“Thank you.” Sausage huffed and glared at his brother. He just smiled in response to try and lighten the mood. Sausage had come here for advice and comfort, not to listen to his crush get slandered.

They lay in silence for a few minutes. Does Sausage love Jimmy? Does he want to be his boyfriend? If so, would they ever fall in love? Would it end up like the rest of Sausage's relationships? Would they get married?

Does he even know what it means to be in love with someone?

“fWhip? Have you ever been in love?” Sausage asks quietly.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘in love’.”

Sausage hummed. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t know what it really means. What do you think?”

fWhip lets out a long sigh and sits up. “Sausage, I actually have to finish making my bed and get back to work. Why don’t you try asking Gem? She’s a lot smarter than me with stuff like this.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Sausage says, and he stands up. He puts back on his cloak and follows fWhip out the door. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Good luck,” fWhip says as he escorts Sausage out of his house and closes the door behind him.

Now, Sausage is alone. He decides to walk to the Crystal Cliffs so he has some time to think. He already has a pretty good idea of what loving someone would be like, but what does it mean to be in love with someone? It is the thought of wanting to stay with someone forever, right? To want to love them and marry them and never leave their side. To want them to feel the same way about you.

Yeah, that sounds right. That’s probably it.

Thinking back to his experience with Xornoth, he definitely wasn’t in love with them. He thought he was at the time, but he’s since learned better. All relationships before that weren’t nearly as serious, so he was even less in love then. Jimmy and Scott are probably in love, maybe he can ask them what it’s supposed to be like.

He reaches the Crystal Cliffs after twenty minutes or so of walking. Gem is outside, tending to a small bed of flowers.

“I didn’t expect to see you here again so soon,” Gem said when she noticed Sausage approaching. He'd been here the night before, horribly shaken from a nightmare and seeking comfort from his sister.

“I need help,” Sausage explains, nervously wringing his hands together.

Gem stands up and brushes the small bit of dirt off of her. “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing! I just have a question!”

“Ask away.”

“What does it mean to be in love with someone?”

Gem pauses. She turns to look at Sausage with a surprised look on her face. She sighs, adjusts her ginormous hat, and asks. “Sausage, what’s going on?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking-“

“Wow really? I didn’t know you could.”

“-Shut up! I was thinking about love and the future and realized I didn’t really know what it meant to be in love with someone!”

Gem sighs again. “We’re going to have to sit down for this, aren’t we?” Not waiting for an answer, she takes Sausage by the arm and leads him inside her house. They walk upstairs and upon opening the bedroom door, Sausage immediately runs and flops onto her bed.

“I just made that!” She shouts exasperatedly over Sausage’s giggles. “At least take your shoes off!”

He does, along with his cloak. To her utter dismay, he bundles up in Gem’s perfectly made soft blankets and pillows and blinks innocently up to her.

“You are such a nuisance,” She grumbles with no real malice and sits down next to him on the bed. “Now tell me again, what do you want my help with?”

Sausage sighs. “I was thinking about my life and my future and started wondering if I’d ever fall in love.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Because I’ve always wanted to fall in love with somebody.”

“Yeah.”

“But then I realized that I don’t even know what it means to fall in love.”

“Mhm.”

“So I went to fWhip to ask him and he was no help-“

“Unsurprising.”

“-and he told me to ask you instead. Because you’re smart. And now I’m here.”

Gem nods and thinks for a minute. “Well, you were right to come to me and ask. What do you think it means to be in love?”

“Umm… I think it means wanting to stay with a person and love them and want to kiss them forever.”

“Okay,” Gem says as she grabs a small notepad and starts taking notes. What is this, therapy? Sausage already has a therapist! Maybe he should’ve asked them for help instead. “You said you’ve always wanted to fall in love with somebody, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Why? Sausage pauses. Why does he want to fall in love so badly?

“I don’t know,” He confesses. That’s just what he’s always wanted. Falling in love has always seemed so delightful, and he's always been under the impression that you need to fall in love. That you need to date and get married and stay married to somebody forever. “I guess…” Sausage says, “Because I have to?”

“Do you though?”

Does he?

He stays silent for a few minutes, deep in thought. That’s what he’s always been told, by his parents, the books he’s read, his advisors, everyone. You have to fall in love and get married and have children. His kingdom needs an heir. But if he never falls in love he’ll never have a baby. No, that’s not true. He could always have a child with someone he doesn’t love, his parents did, but his childhood was terrible because of it, and he would never choose to bring that on someone else.

“Why do you think you have to?” Gem asks softly when Sausage doesn’t respond.

“So I’ll be happy,” He responds without thinking.

“Do you need to fall in love to be happy? Aren’t you already happy with us? Your friends? Your family? Your citizens?”

She’s right. He is happy. His life is great without a partner. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“So you don't need it to be happy.”

“But I need it to have an heir. And I really really don’t want to have a kid with someone I don’t love. Look how that turned out for me!”

She hums in response and writes some more on her notepad. “That is true. Your heir needs to be biological, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So adoption is off the table. But do you really need to love your spouse to love your child? My parents didn’t love each other but they sure loved me and fWhip.”

Good point. Sausage could probably pull that off just fine. But if he’s already happy and having a child won’t be a problem, then why does he need to fall in love?

“Isn’t that… bad? To never fall in love?” He asks.

“No, it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with never falling in love in your life.”

Sausage blinks. “Oh.”

Gem puts her notepad down and faces her brother. She takes his hands in hers. “Sausage, do you actually want to fall in love, or do you just think you need to?”

“Of course I want to! Everyone does!”

“I don’t,” Gem corrects.

Sausage pauses and stares at her. That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t a person want to fall in love? Is she allowed to do that? Is he allowed to do that?

“You can do that?” He asks, flabbergasted.

Gem bursts out laughing. “Yes, Sausage. Of course, you can. Nobody’s forcing you to fall in love if you don’t want to. I don’t really care whether or not I get married, that’s not my priority in life.”

Sausage sits up and stares at Gem. This contradicts everything he’s ever believed. A wave of relief floods through him and is quickly replaced with confusion and aggravation in a way. Why did he spend his whole life believing a lie? That’s not fair.

Gem softens and says, “I’ll ask again. Do you actually want to fall in love?”

“No,” He hears himself say. “No, I don’t.”

Saying that lifts a weight off his shoulders. All of the pressure that he never noticed he was being crushed to death under dissipates. He doesn’t want to fall in love. He doesn’t want to get married. Why did he think he did? Because he was told he needs to? He doesn’t.

“In fact, now that I think about it, I’ve never… actually been in love with anybody,” He continues. “Not even the people I’ve dated. I don’t-“ A sob tears through his body, interrupting his words.

Gem wraps her arms around him in a warm hug. He accepts it, melting into the embrace and sobbing into her shoulder. Gem runs her fingers through his hair and rocks them back and forth. This is familiar. No matter how confusing Sausage’s life gets, this always stays the same. Gem will always be there for him. Once his cries quiet, he pulls away and looks at her.

“Feel better now?” She asks softly, letting go of the hug and taking Sausage’s hands in her own again. He nods and sniffles. Gem smiles and gently squeezes his hands. “I have something for you.”

– –

It’s been two days since Gem gave Sausage a thick book on sexuality. He’d been confused at first when she placed the book in his hands—he already knows that he’s gay, why would he need to learn more? But she just chuckled, gestured to the bookmark left between the pages, and reassured him that he does in fact need it.

He hasn’t read it yet. To be honest, he’s scared about what he might find. His life and perception of himself was already warped, he didn’t need another mind-blowing experience so soon. But he can’t avoid it forever.

Carefully, he picks up the book from his desk, sits down in the chair, and opens it to the bookmarked page. It’s the beginning of a chapter titled “Asexuality”. That’s a term he’s never heard before. He leans back in his chair and starts reading the chapter.

As he reads he starts to understand why Gem gave the book to him. Almost every doubt and question he’d ever had gets answered. Including the most important one. He’s never fallen in love because he doesn’t want to. His brain just isn’t programmed to. And knowing that’s perfectly normal is comforting.

He finishes the chapter in what feels like minutes despite the hour that has passed. Relaxing in his chair, he sighs. Everything is starting to make sense. It’s a lot, he’ll definitely have to reread the chapter several times again, but he understands himself. And that’s all he wanted.

– –

Gem was shelving books in the library when something slams into her from the side, knocking her to the ground. She cries out, the books in her arms flying everywhere. She turns to see who her now-giggling attacker is and to nobody’s surprise, it’s Sausage.

“Can I help you?” She asks as she pushes her brother off her.

“You already did!” He beams.

“I did? What did I do?”

Sausage picks up the book on sexuality from the pile on the floor and shoves it into Gem’s chest. “This!”

It takes her a moment to recognize the book but her face lights up and she gasps when she does. “Was I right?” Sausage nods and Gem pulls him into a hug. They both laugh in delight and hold each other on the floor of the library.

“I’ve learned that I am aromantic and asexual!” He says proudly once they calm down. “That means-“

“I know what that means,” Gem says with no malice. “How do you feel about knowing that?”

“Like my entire life was a lie.”

“But are you happy? Sad?”

“Oh I’m devastated,” He admits. “I’ve always wanted to fall in love and now I know I can’t. But I’ll be okay. It’s not easy discovering your sexuality, you know!”

Gem laughs again and pulls herself onto her feet. “You will be helping me clean all these books up.” She says as she helps Sausage up. He groans but obliges, picking the books off the floor and helping Gem shelve them.

There’s still more to do, like telling Pearl and fWhip, talking about it in therapy, asking Jimmy about his experience being in love and comparing it to his, learning more about his newly discovered sexuality, and replanning his life. But that all sounds incredibly tedious and stressful so he’s not going to worry about that yet. Right now all he needs to think about is where these books go.

[amloveabledeathmo]

Kidnapped Kid-Kili, Fili, and Ori story idea

So we start with Bilbo on his return trip home from a walking journey. He hears shouting off the road but it doesn't sound like hobbits and he decides to investigate in case it's bandits or something that needs to be reported to the Rangers/Bounders.

As he gets closer he can make out what is being said and catches "Well I didn't know that the whole settlement was broke did I! At least we got paid some to take the kids but I say we cut our losses and just kill them and move on!" He hears a few choked sobs at that and spots three dwarf children then and a bit away two adult dwarves who are the ones shouting.

"Shut up! It's no good to scare them more like that! I think we can sell them, maybe at a mannish market." The two adult dwarves continue their argument and Bilbo creeps up to the kids.

"Come along now children lets get you out of here." He whispers as he helps them up and leads them away. He pulls out three extra travel cloaks, he packed heavy due to autumn chill and surprise rainstorms, and has them put the cloaks on. "Now if I tell you to curl up under your cloak on the ground okay?"

The three nod up at him. He leads them to the other side of the road and then past where they were camped. A good half an hour later of walking and he hears a cart approaching and has the kids hunker down while he backtracks some and starts rewalking on the road. The cart comes around the corner Bilbo almost cries in relief. "Hamfast!" he calls as the cart comes to a stop.

"Good to see you Mr. Bilbo, on yer way home?"

"Come on out kids it's just Hamfast, he's safe!" Bilbo calls and turns to Hamfast, "I don't suppose you would be willing to turn around and give us a ride back to Bag End? We really need to get somewhere safe."

Hamfast is of course confused by these dwarf children but agrees and they put them in the back of the cart and hand them a bag full of apples to snack on. As they travel Bilbo fills Hamfast in on what happened. Of course he is horrified, people stealing and then threatening to kill children is just barbaric, why he couldn't imagine how it would feel if that happened to him.

So Bilbo and the children are dropped off and Hamfast agrees to alert the Rangers and Bounders and tell all the hobbits he knows so nobody goes blabbing to strangers about Bilbo having dwarf children. The kids are just happy to be warm and provided with food. Ori tugs on Fili and whispers to him about writing letters home so someone can come get them. Fili asks Bilbo and Bilbo thinks it's a good plan.

The only dwarf who Ori knows the mailing place of is Balin, so they write their letters to their family but send them to Balin. A month or so later Bilbo, who now knows all about the boys in his care, was happily walking them home from the market when he spots a lot of dwarves on ponies and pulls the kids to a stop. He quickly gets in front of the kids and tells them to run and hide. About then the dwarves jump off the ponies and start racing towards Bilbo and the boys start screaming AMAD! DORI! UNCLE! and running towards the group.

Basically the whole company plus Dis have all come to find the kids. Bilbo is so relieved and the dwarves are very thankful and indeed shocked by his braveness and willingness to protect the boys. Thorin tries to figure out a way to pay him back but Bilbo declines, says all he wants is for the boys to be safe and maybe write him every once in a while and invites them all to stay at Bag End for the night. Bilbo, Fili, Kili, and Ori tell them all about what they heard and saw from and of the kidnappers.

They get a good bit of snow that night and the dwarves realize that if there is snow out in the Shire that their way home would probably be impassable already. Cue dwarves in the Shire. Fixing things, having a mild winter, eating enough, oh and of course Dis being the first to see how much Thorin and Bilbo like each other and doing her best to get them together.

Also Ori is part of the kidnap because he is Fili and Kili's best friend and Balin teaches them lessons and they were all together and the kidnappers didn't know how many kids they were supposed to take. No real idea of who ordered the kidnapping but just feels extra angsty for it to be paid for and not just idiots kidnapping the Heirs to the Throne and thinking they will get away alive.

[bitkahuna]

“Why do you think I’ve been kissing dwarves?”

Chuckles and giggles erupted from the room as Pippin responded. “You’ve been spendin the last few months with dwarves. Not to call you a tart, but you’ve been surrounded by floosies. No one could blame you.”

----

Tauriel paced back and forth in front of Ori, who curled into himself in the interrogation cell. The elf's demeanor had shifted; her face was a mask of calculated coldness as she regarded the young dwarf before her.

"Ori, is it not true that you served as the chronicler of Thorin Oakenshield's company?" Tauriel began, her tone deliberately neutral yet piercing.

Ori nodded hesitantly. "Th-That's correct."

She continued, leaning closer as if to scrutinize his very soul. "And you surely must have noted every detail of your journey. Including the actions and movements of Master Baggins."

The young dwarf’s eyes widened, fear evident in his expression. "I … I wrote down only what was necessary for history. Nothing more."

Tauriel circled him like a predator stalking its prey. "Not what you wrote, what you noticed. Surely, a scribe of your dedication would not miss such details." She said before stopping in front of him. “Bofur has already confirmed to me that Baggins is still alive.”

Ori's face flushed with panic, his eyes darting in search of an escape that wasn't there. "I-I don’t understand what you want from me." He stammered, his voice cracking.

"I want the truth," Tauriel pressed, her eyes narrowing. "The full extent of Bilbo Baggins' movements and his current whereabouts."

----

“Master Baggins, I presume.” Thranduil’s voice was as smooth as silk, with a deep timbre that, after his time with the dwarves, piqued Bilbo’s interest in a way it would not have before. “It appears we have much to discuss. First, let us eat. You must be weary from your travels.” He gestured to the opulent dining table laid out with an array of dishes, as if having been waiting for him. Musicians tucked into alcoves played melodies so enchanting it was hard for Bilbo to stay on guard. But he remembered the sight of Thorin nearly breaking his own hands trying to bust the lock, and his heart hardened once more.

----

“How could you?” Someone whispered, horrified.

Bilbo tried to smile, but it was flat. Tears threatened his eyes. His heart swelled. All he could think of was Thorin’s face in the moonlight. “I cannot explain.”

----

“He may always haunt me as the greatest what-if of my life. I only hope I was able to haunt him the same.”

And so it was that they would both mourn for things that never were.

chapter 26 "To Reject the Very Sun" - posted

[i-did-not-mean-to]

FOTFICtember - Chapter 3

A roller-coaster ride, a mushy hotdog, and a surprise in a maze...

@mysandwichranaway is working on some art for this fic! Stay tuned!

Prompts: Twilight, corn maze, lantern, mushrooms, sweater weather, amber

Pairing: Ori x OC, Bilbo x Thorin, Fíli x OC, Kíli x Tauriel

Words: 1555

Warnings:Some indecent kissing, some general anxiety, Thorin is an ass

Ori had half-expected that it had all just been a bad joke.

Yet, when he reached the small group standing, as promised, by the food carts to grab a tiny bite to eat, his own hotdog almost got stuck in his throat as Fíli waved a bunch of shiny, colourful tokens in his face.

“I’ve taken the liberty of buying the first round,” he declared and handed Ori one of the plastic coins.

The rollercoaster itself was a miserable, rickety affair that might not have stood a chance in hell to be ridden in a more elaborate setting.

As it was this small fair’s only attraction, though, the queue seemed to be endless.

Catching a glimpse of a beautiful, dark-haired girl he’d been begging to go out with him a few rows ahead of them, Fíli excused himself hastily and started pushing through the throng of people ruthlessly.

“Ah! Well…” Kyra mumbled.

“He really did mean it when he said that he wanted to show you a good time,” Kíli assured her. “He might just not do it himself.”

Sucking her teeth, Tauriel reached over to take the young woman’s hand and squeeze it comfortingly. “I’ve got you, girl. You can ride with me—I want to see how they jam their fat asses onto the tiny bench.”

“Ey…I thought we were going to make out throughout the whole ride?” Kíli protested, spearing Ori with that steely look he’d inherited from his mother.

“Yes, erm, yes,” Ori waffled, aghast to realise that he’d forgotten all his words when he needed them most. “If that would be agreeable, I’d be honoured to ride with you, of course.”

When she turned to him, black eyes sparkling with mirth, he swallowed heavily. Kyra had always been so disarmingly beautiful, and he’d never found the courage to tell her.

Year after year, summer after summer, he’d sworn to his friends and himself that, next time, he’d ask her to go to the local ice cream parlour or walk the maze with him, but he never had.

And then, she’d stopped coming.

It had taken him months to work up the courage to ask Bilbo about it, and the answer had been less than heartening, so he’d let it be.

As he now shuffled onto the uncomfortably hard bench of the creaking wagon beside her, he could hardly believe that she’d returned at long last.

“I don’t think you remember me,” he started quietly, interrupted by the screeching of the brakes being loosened and the lurching start of the ride.

“Nonsense,” Kyra chuckled. “It took me a mere second to place the name. You’ve grown up well, I must say.”

“How do you mean?” Ori asked, horrified to hear that his voice was not unlike the squeaking of the worn rails beneath them.

“Forget it,” she grinned and turned her pale, radiant face into the fading light as they started the jerky ascent to the laughably low apex of the woefully short track.

Ahead of them, Kíli and Tauriel were cheering and laughing as they sped downhill, exchanging messy kisses in between exaggerated hoots.

“Hold on tight; this might be a bumpy ride,” Ori warned.

When she gave him a slightly panicked look, he slung his arm around her body and pulled her closer against his own. “Hold on,” he repeated.

Nothing could have prepared him for the fact that, instead of grabbing the ramshackle handlebar, she’d throw her arms around his torso and bury her face in the crook of his neck.

As much as he’d not wanted to go on the ride in the first place, Ori now desperately wished that their shabby wagon would never stop grinding along the rails.

Kyra was soft and warm against him, and the smell of her perfume made him feel as if he’d grow wings himself to fly into the darkening evening sky never to come down again.

Twilight was upon them, and lights flared up across the landscape like mysterious mushrooms—it would soon be time to set out for the bonfire.

Despite his better knowledge, Ori wondered whether Kyra would let him hold her again even after they’d left this hellish contraption.

“You exaggerate,” Ori heard Fíli say. Only then did he notice that they’d stopped.

The grumpy teen operating the ride looked at them with bored impatience and evident incredulity.

“Come on out, Uncle will kill us if we’re not there to canoodle in his maze,” Fíli added, holding the hand of the fair maiden he’d so indefatigably wooed proudly.

“Bombur is cooking,” Tauriel interjected. “Save your money and your gut health! Don’t waste either on more of the trash they’re selling here!”

“Oh, I know,” Kyra laughed breathily. “Bilbo has been baking for days—I’m looking forward to sampling his creations.”

Thus, they set out towards the forest, only to come up short at the entrance of a corn maze.

“We’ve lost the organisers in action,” Bofur informed them with a wink. “Take a lantern and go on your merry way! Two by two, please. Otherwise, it’s no fun.”

This time, there was no question about how they’d split up.

As soon as they were off, though, Ori couldn’t help but notice that Kyra was rubbing her arms while walking rather fast.

“The weather’s turned, huh?” he said sheepishly.

“Sweater weather,” she agreed, her full lips somewhat pale.

As pretty as her sundress was, it did little to keep the biting chill in the air at bay. Thankfully, Ori’s brothers insisted on him being wrapped up like an egg about to hatch at all times, so he shrugged out of his jacket to take off his thick, woollen pullover.

“Take this—we don’t want you to catch your death out here. It will be warmer by the fire,” he said hastily, afraid that he was crossing a line.

He should not have worried for Kyra took the garment gratefully and slipped into it at once—she looked painfully adorable as she was nearly swallowed by the oversized item hanging from her curvaceous frame.

“You’re a true gentleman,” she praised with a small, soft smile, and took his hand to pull him on.

The lanterns they’d been given were detestably dim and weak to avoid and prevent any potential fire hazard, so it was slow going.

More than once, they found themselves turned around and cornered, but—chatting amiably about old times—they didn’t mind retracing their steps and losing their time at all.

Suddenly, a strange noise made Ori still, trying to push Kyra behind him as he lifted their sorry excuse of a light source higher.

“Your eyes are liquid amber,” she gasped, evidently unfazed by the odd smacking sound coming from a corner plunged in deep shadows. “You’re so handsome!”

“My…what? Who goes there?” he called, feeling fiercely protective of the cheery woman for whom he held himself responsible until he could return her to her uncle’s care. He’d heard enough horror stories about the terrible things that could befall sweet creatures such as her in dark, secluded corners.

He’d not let anything happen to her, he vowed, desperately trying to push aside her last comment lest it distract him fatally from the situation at hand.

A moment later, the very uncle he’d been thinking of appeared, dishevelled and flushed.

“Uncle Bilbo?” Kyra gasped. “What has happened to you? Are you quite all right? You look a little…put out.”

“All is well,” Bilbo assured them. “Are you enjoying the maze?”

To make matters even more confusing, he was joined by Thorin—looking just as red-faced and unkempt—a second later.

“We were just checking…if everything was safe.”

“And is it?” Kyra asked in a strained voice before she burst into laughter. “I truly believed that the canoodling part Fíli mentioned was but a figure of speech, but…who am I to doubt the validity of your beliefs?”

Without further ado, she whirled around and planted a resounding kiss onto Ori’s half-open mouth.

“Whatever Gods or spirits you pray to tonight, I hope that they’ll hear my earnest wishes as well. Did I do this right?” she crowed in boundless hilarity.

Rubbing his forehead in embarrassed exasperation, Bilbo gave a long sigh. “You wild, headstrong child!” he chided. “What did you think these cul-de-sacs were for?”

“We have no time to lose,” Kyra replied with a shrug. “Our friends are waiting, and I’m starting to feel quite peckish.”

Ori, meanwhile, merely stood there—thunderstruck and silent—like an oaf. She’d simply kissed him, square on the lips, as if there was nothing to it, and he couldn’t wait to see if she’d do it again.

Bonfires were romantic, right? They could huddle for warmth on a nice log, and he could put his arm around her.

Emboldened and set aflame by her enthusiasm and generosity, he graciously agreed not to tell anyone about what they’d witnessed, and they went on their merry way once more.

“Shame,” Ori heard Bilbo say. “I’ve heard there was quite a lump sum in their betting pool.”

“I know,” Thorin chortled. “I say we take the pot and go on a nice holiday together.”

“What day did you choose?” Bilbo asked tersely.

“Tonight. And you?”

“Tomorrow!”

They both laughed heartily, the sound following the two youngsters until Ori finally glimpsed the exit ahead.

↳ Masterlist

@fellowshipofthefics here's the third chapter of my fic for September!

Lots of love from me! <3

[leavesonthetrees]

Bravery to Face Such Struggles Alone

CW - Seizures and disability discrimination

Summary: All his life Bilbo has faced discrimination in the Shire because of his unexplained seizures. When it happens in front of the company, he is quite firmly told that it doesn’t change their opinion of him, in more ways than one.

A/N - Hello, I’ve had some training in epilepsy/seizures but I’m aware not all of my writing/language may be accurate. Constructive criticism is absolutely welcome. As someone who is also disabled, I know we all have different ways to talk about things and I’d hate to misrepresent anything. I also used the Dwarven Scholar for any Khudzul translations :). Also I’m sorry for my formatting, it might be quite shit.

The first time it happens, they’re barely out of Bree. One minute Bofur is listening to Bilbo chattering away about his wretched shrew of a cousin Lobelia Sackville-Baggins and her penchant for pilfering his mother’s silver spoons the next Bilbo collapses like a puppet who’s strings have been cut. Bofur’s cry of surprise draws the attention of the rest of the camp, even Thorin looks mildly concerned.

Oin is making his way over with his bag when Bilbo starts to convulse, his small body jerking violently, his head slamming backwards into the ground over and over. Bofur backs away, horrified at what’s happening to his new friend, even Oin seems momentarily lost at what to do. Luckily Gandalf isn’t, striding over to Bilbo, shedding his outer robe and bundling it beneath Bilbo’s head. There’s nothing anyone else can do other than watch in terror. Bofur wrings his floppy hat in his hands, his usual easy smile nowhere to be found. Kili has Fili’s arm in a white knuckled death grip, eyes watery. What has happened to their burglar?

The moments stretch on for what feels like centuries but slowly, slowly, whatever it is seems to subside. A soft moan of pain signals that Bilbo is still alive. Gandalf’s body seems to release the tension he was holding with a heavy exhale as he reaches for Bilbo’s hand.

“It’s alright Bilbo, all is well. We’re about a day’s walk from Bree.” Bilbo blinks a few times and sighs, with Gandalf’s assistance, sits up gingerly. He runs a hand through his curls, focusing on breathing in and out, taking in their surroundings.

“I am fine.” He murmurs quietly, doing his best not to look at any of the gathered dwarrow. “Didn’t look it!” Cries Bofur, dropping to his knees beside Bilbo. “I thought you were dying, we all did!” Bofur’s eyes scan Bilbo, searching for answers, anything.

“It was simply a fit, they’re not uncommon for me.” Bilbo explains quietly, still more concerned with picking at a thread in his waistcoat.

“I think Bilbo may benefit from some peace and quiet.” Gandalf rumbles, his tone brooking no room for argument.

Camp is set up although Bilbo is not allowed to help, sat on a log by the fire by a still concerned Oin and told to rest for a while. Bilbo doesn’t miss the hushed whispers in Khudzul and curious glances in his direction. Ori passes Bilbo his bowl of stew and scuttles back to Dori, not a word passing between them.

Bilbo tries not to let it get to him but it stings, to be viewed as some sort of strange creature. He’s grown weary of the stares all his life, from family, neighbours and acquaintances; full of pity or wariness. There were whispers that he was cursed or something was wrong with him. His mother used to stroke his curls and press soft kisses to his forehead.

“Ignore them sweet boy, they simply do not understand.”

When Bilbo came of age, he fell for this beautiful hobbit lass from West Farthing with blonde curls that shone like the wheat in Farmer Maggot’s fields in the late afternoon sun and green eyes that the lush green hills of the Shire could never hope to compare to. Bilbo had presented her with a rather impressive courting bouquet of daisies (for new beginnings), sunflowers (for adoration, loyalty and longevity), irises (hope) and lavender (devotion) on a rather beautiful spring day. His hopes were promptly dashed at her rejection, disgusted at the thought of his ‘condition’ being passed onto any faunts they might have. Bilbo swore then to ignore what anyone had to say about him but to also to hide his seizures going forward.

Bilbo stares into his stew like it holds the secrets of the universe, stirring the meat around in the spiced broth. He startles slightly as Bifur drops down next to him, not looking at him, and begins eating his own supper. The camp goes quiet, watching. Bifur barks something in Khudzul, sounding irritated and the others immediately busy themselves with their own business. Bifur gives Bilbo a nod, a knowing look in his eyes. Bilbo’s eyes briefly drift to the axe in Bifur’s forehead, he allows a small smile to pull at his lips and returns Bifur’s nod.

Slowly things return to normal after a few days of the company treating Bilbo like he was made from spun glass. Bifur’s presence at his side makes the whispering and the looks more bearable but it’s still unpleasant. Another episode doesn’t happen until Rivendell.

“I hate green food.” Ori moans, pushing the vegetables about his plate, his face the picture of disgust and disappointment.

“Hush.” Dori chides him quietly. Bilbo chuckles, pleased to have fresh produce and the chance to bathe after weeks of travelling. A sense of foreboding strikes Bilbo followed by a sharp ringing in his ears before it all goes black.

To the others, Bilbo goes still before slumping forwards over the table convulsing. Without thinking, from across the table Bofur hurriedly shoves his hat under Bilbo’s forehead as he’d seen Gandalf do weeks ago. Bifur on Bilbo’s left listens to his breathing, a gentle hand between his shoulder blades to help support him too. This time, the convulsions don’t seem to last as long as the first time, Bifur rumbling in Khudzul to him in low, soothing tones, not at Bilbo can understand. Lord Elrond watches the scene unfold from the top table a curious expression on his face. Gandalf hovers between sitting and standing, undecided as to whether he needs to intervene or not. Bilbo lifts his head from the table, a little disoriented and surprised but well. Dori on Bilbo’s right gently guides Bilbo to lean against his shoulder before continuing his conversation with Gloin about different gems and jewellery.

Later that night, Bilbo sits with a book from the library in the room the dwarves have been given. Bofur drops down next to him, his grin slightly forced.

“How you feeling Bilbo?”

“Not too bad.” Bilbo glances at the page number before setting it aside. He clears his throat and shifts about to get a little more comfortable.

“I-uh, I wanted to thank you…for looking out for me earlier.”

“‘‘Tis no trouble, the wizard gave us a run down after the first time.” Bofur responds, patting Bilbo’s shoulder. Bilbo’s head snaps up at this, eyes wide and a little embarrassed.

“What?!” The room goes quiet, shifting about.

“Well none of us have ever seen anything like that before, and you gave us quite the fright. We just asked what it was and what we needed to do in case Gandalf wasn’t there.” Bofur explains looking a little sheepish.

“Did we overstep?” Bilbo’s mouth opens and closes like a fish before he shuts it and shakes his head. He intends to say ‘no not at all’ or ‘thank you, I appreciate your concern’ but what comes out is “You aren’t going to send me home?”

“Send you home lad? Who said anything about that?” Asks a puzzled Balin from near the fire. “Do you wish to go home? You did sign the contract.”

“No, no, no!” Bilbo hurriedly denies. “These, well, these fits are a burden to you all, I’m a liability, cursed.” There’s a beat of silence before there’s an eruption. Bifur is shouting angrily in Khudzul, pointing at Bilbo and gesticulating wildly. Fili and Kili are protesting

“Of course you’re not a burden!”

“Cursed? That’s just stupid?”

“Eh? What did he say?” From Oin who didn’t have his hearing trumpet in.

“ITKITÎ!” Thorin roars above the shouting, the room going quiet.

“Who told you this?” Thorin demands.

Bilbo fidgets under the weight of 13 stares.

“W-well the local healer couldn’t figure out what caused my fits or what they were beyond calling them fits. People called me a freak and unfit for polite society.”

“Do you think less of Oin for being unable to hear?” Thorin queries, expression unreadable.

Bilbo’s mouth drops open, scandalised.

“Yavanna no, of course not. He is a fine healer and a wonderful companion.” Oin preens before Gloin elbows him sharply in the ribs with a muttered “Not the time brother.”

“Do you think Bifur isn’t capable because of his injury?” Thorin asks, studying Bilbo intently.

Bilbo shakes his head. “Certainly not, Bifur is among the fiercest warriors in the company. Why are you asking me this?”

“Then why ascribe such labels to yourself? If you truly believe you are unable to handle this quest then this is where we part Burglar; but do not think we shall send you away because you perceive us to think you a liability because of your seizures. Fighting a constant, internal battle often take more courage than to go to war. What you see as a weakness, we dwarrow see a strength, the bravery to face such struggles alone. So no, Master Baggins, we do not think you cursed.” Thorin finishes with finality.

Bilbo’s eyes water, his chest tight with emotion. He opens his mouth to declare his intentions to stay and to thank them all for their faith in him, to not shun him. However Thorin then chooses that moment to take a metaphorical shit over the moment.

“You are however a liability as you are too soft for the road of travelling, unable to lift a sword to defend yourself and are yet to prove yourself a worthy member of this company.”

Balin’s hand summarily connects with the back of Thorin’s head as Thorin lets out a surprised “Oof!”

“What our illustrious leader means to say,” Balin says through gritted teeth to Thorin before turning to Bilbo with a kind smile, “is that you will always be welcome here.”

“Thank you.” Bilbo says in a choked voice before clearing his throat. “I’m very grateful to you, all of you.” His gaze sweeps across the room, the dwarves faces slightly blurred by the tears in his eyes that he refuses to let fall. They all bask in the moment, the feeling of companionship feeling warm in their hearts.

Thorin opens his mouth but Balin side eyes him hard and raises his hand subtly but the threat clear.

“No, that’s enough.”

Thorin obediently closes his mouth. Kili is the first to muffle his laughter behind his hand and it isn’t long before the rest of the company are joining in the mirth.

For the first time since his parents died, as a the laughter flows freely from him, Bilbo feels like he is among family again.

[fromtheboundlesssea]

WB - Why did Celia chose to marry aegon ? Did she not mind his whoring ways ? Or does she want to be a future queen ?

When Celia is caught with aegon who finds them ? What is orys and cregan's reaction to it ?

PS - I believe that you have already answer this but I am new and am not up to date with the asks and scrolling them is a huge task. Sorry about that.

No worries!

She chose Aegon because he was the best choice. Cregan would be bound by his and his father’s vows and, if married to her, would remain neutral, which Celia wouldn’t want to be. Orys is obviously going to side with his siblings and she hates them so no thank you.

And while Celia doesn’t particularly care for his whoring ways, he doesn’t necessarily go out and sleep with anything that moves. It’s more of a reputation he made for himself to be less of a threat. He sleeps with a handful of people on a consistent basis and makes sure to give them moontea and use other contraceptives. Besides, Celia is not a huge fan of sex in general so she could care less (she’s borderline asexual).

I am debating on who would be the funniest person to catch them. Celia calculates the discovery with the hope that it’s a servant who will rush to tell her grandfather or uncle. However, that’s not who finds them. It will either be Aemond, Criston, or her father. Either of which would be freaking hilarious.

Cregan has already been refused so he’s aware that Celia is planning something, but he’s already returning North when that happens. Orys is horrified as he is in King’s Landing when she is discovered.

[columbadolorosa]

//On an entirely different note. I keep thinking about the singular voyage the council sent swap Ori on into the void and how it might have affected her. Fun fact; many years ago I was outlining a novel which was supposed to take place in part outside the time-space continuum. I can't help but draw inspo from that universe, the laws of which dictate that it would have been an absolutely horrifying experience.

[lazulisocinfodump]

i know they haven't really interacted much, but does sea angel have any thoughts/feelings about ori?

OC ask yeesssss thankyou Lapis. But also sorry, you have unlocked another Lazuli OC Text Dump™

Yeah, Sea Angel super does have thoughts about Ori. She actually really wants to interact with him. The 3 Serverbox Kinitos that most remind her of her Nito are Amie, 1.0 and Ori, so those are the people on the blog she actually cares about interacting with.

But well. Things with 1.0 have been a disaster. And things with Amie were not going well until recently. She didn’t want to screw things up 3 for 3. Plus… Ori is kinda hanging out with Parry right now, and she ain’t ready to pull the pin on that grenade yet, lol.

Plus, Ori’s open indifference is kind of intimidating to Sea Angel. She’s been subject to a lot of cold, uncaring indifference from a lot of people in her life. It hurts too much to potentially receive that from somebody that acts like a more subdued and quieter version of her Nito.

As for specific thoughts about Ori himself? Sea Angel really likes his curiosity about humans, and that he seems to like to talk about the differences between native digital minds like his and human minds. Sea Angel herself is quite fascinated by that sort of thing. She likes hearing his observations. She’s fascinated with Ori himself too, he’s open with his alieness in a way the other Kinito’s aren’t. And Sea Angel respects honesty and when a person is true to who they really are.

Sea Angel also pities Ori a lot. Being melded in with another being who doesn’t even like you? That is a *horrifying* concept to Sea Angel. But she’s not sure how she would even begin to try and make him feel better, given how resigned Ori is to his situation.

Thanks for the question! Always feel free to ask about my ocs!

[obsidiancreates]

The Second Chance Of The Third Age (Part 2)

“Right, let's get these lined up,” Bilbo says as he helps cram the chairs around the table. “Got so carried away with the food I forgot about this. Thorin, can I sit beside-”

Thorin sits and pats a chair that's already next to his, and Bilbo smiles and takes the seat. Thorin reaches over and clasps Bilbo’s hand tightly in his own, and Bilbo turns his hand over to hold it back.

“I think we should start by making sure everyone's caught up,” Bimbo says as Gandalf, last of all, settles into a chair a bit to the side. The wizard in question raises his eyebrows.

“I don't believe that to be wise, Bilbo-”

“Oh, but I do. We're not dancing around the topic, Gandalf, not when things are as serious as they are.”

“That's an understatement,” Gloin grumbles, well aware of exactly what Bilbo was thinking of. “That should go first, I think.”

“Right. Yes. Six of you… never knew.” Bilbo clears his throat, clearly withholding a few tears. “Well, to keep it short, in about seventy or so years Sauron will return.”

Thorin stiffens, and Fili and Kili gape. Oin turns to Dwalin with wide eyes, and he doesn't even need to ask if he'd heard right for Dwalin to nod. Balin presses his hands to his mouth, muffling a low, mournful sound, and Ori chokes on the ale he'd been drinking.

“What's more, I uh… may have discovered, when he did, that I ah… picked up his One Ring in the goblin tunnels. And I'd used that ring on our adventure many times, as well as to, ahem, to avoid unwanted guests and relatives, later on.” His voice is tight, and his expression much the same. An old, old guilt rests behind it all. 

For a moment there’s nothing but silence and stares, horrified stares. All but those returned from early death and Gandalf knew that he'd had The Ring, of course, but hearing he used something so terrible so often and on such casual uses as avoiding company…

“It did get destroyed,” Bilbo quickly assures, looking at Gandalf. “And I did give it up. My nephew- well, technically cousin, but we'd always been more like nephew and uncle than cousins- took it to Mordor and destroyed it. You were involved in that too, of course.”

Gandalf eyes Bilbo quizzically. “You gave it up? By your own will?”

“And a push, from um, from you,” Bilbo admits. “But yes, I left it behind when I was eleventy-one and traveled to- well, I intended The Lonely Mountain, but I only got as far as Rivendell before age caught up.”

“My son helped in the quest,” Gloin chimes in, eyes shining with pride. “And got that miserable wood elf prince wrapped around his finger in the process! ‘Goblin Mutant’ indeed, ha! The right bastard couldn’t stand to be parted with my boy after they returned!”

Bilbo makes a sort of hum-whine noise. “Not quite how that went. Granted, Legolas smuggled Gimli into Valinor, but I wouldn't say he was wra-”

“Well I do. Imagine Thranduil's face! His own son, bringing a Dwarf of Erebor to their cherished lands! Ha!”

There's a cheer with the much lighter, happier news, and a quick round of drinking in honor of Gimli, Elf-Charmer.

Gandalf looks near ill. 

“Wait.” Fili looks around the table. “Bilbo said six of us didn't make it.”

Balin, Oin, and Ori raise their hands- Ori somewhat hesitantly. Dori and Nori have been glued to his side the entire time, and now they both somehow manage to move even closer to him, like an overfilled sandwich crushed in a desperate grip.

“In Khazad-dûm.” Balin's voice shakes, eyes brimming with tears. “I… I lead a party to try and reclaim it. I can never beg enough for your forgiveness-”

“Don’ you dare to start, then,” Oin interrupts. “Ori and I knew what we signed up for.”

Ori has both of his arms around his older brothers, all three crying quietly. In his own last moments, as he scratched out a recounting of their doom, Ori’s last thoughts had been that he hoped his brothers would be alright without him. 

“Balin.” Thorin's voice cracked. “Why?”

Balin shakes his head, drawing a shuddering breath. “I don't know. Grief, maybe. Hubris, after we reclaimed Erebor. It's hard to remember why I felt it so important after all it took from us.”

“... If-if it helps,” Bilbo says, “Gimli was able to pass through with his company. He saw the mines of mithril, the great halls- Frodo said it was a wonder, for all the perils it brought them, and… all the grief.”

Balin is quiet for a moment, and then nods. “At least one Dwarf lived to see it, I suppose. But I hope he won't pass through it again in this life.” 

“As if I'd let him,” Gloin says, mostly reassuring his brother. Oin nods thankfully. 

“But that’s only three, four counting me.” Fili’s eyes travel the table, but they never land on the remainders- not until Kili puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and then looks to their uncle as well. Fili looks between them, paling. “No.”

“It won’t happen again.” Kili grips his brother’s shoulder tightly. “We’ll stick together, no matter what.”

“And with luck, kill Azog long before The Battle. I’m sure I couldn’t convince either of you to return home even I tried-”

“Not a chance of it,” the two princes say in unison. Forgiveness is unspoken but present, clear in the loyalty still shining in their eyes- and for now, in this moment of joyous reunion and somber planning, it keeps the guilt of the king at bay.

“Now uh, onto the business of The Ring. I'll have to find it again, to destroy it, of course.” Bilbo swallows thickly at the thought, so tantalizing yet so repulsive. He hates it, and loves it, in near equal measures- but he loves Frodo far more. “Which does mean we'll have to face the goblins again at the very least.”

It seems to jar the table, going back to the topic of travesty dealt across all of Middle-Earth and not just within their own Company. 

“Can't you just leave it?” Kili looks to Gandalf. “Sauron can't conquer Middle-Earth without it, can he?”

“I would doubt it…” Gandalf looks skeptically at Bilbo. “But I think our hobbit has more to share.”

“Well, he did have help.” Bilbo scowls. “Saruman. Don't trust him, Gandalf. If I ever see himself I'll-” Bilbo puffs out a breath, so teeming with rage at the thought of the wicked wizard, of being face-to-face with someone so remorseless in their evil-!

“Saruman wouldn't aid Sauron,” Gandalf whispers, quickly and with no small amount of panic. “Not without a terrible plague on his mind!”

“Plague on his-! He made armies of tens of thousands and sent them to slaughter kingdoms! He sent out goblin-orc hybrids to capture my nephew! He tried to kill you and the rest of Frodo's Fellowship in an avalanche! Plague, ha! A common cold might be enough to turn him.”

“These are not accusations you can make lightly, Bilbo Baggins!”

“Gimli told me the same!” Gloin slams his fist onto the table. “He witnessed it! Fought in Helm's Deep alongside the king of Rohan, king of Gondor, even the elf! They all said the same!”

Gandalf looks near ill. “These are grave, grave tidings. How do we know you fourteen haven't been sent back by the very power your descendants sought to destroy? Only one power in this world has been known to raise the dead.”

“I have no intentions of aiding this filth,” Thorin spits. “If Sauron sent us back for some dark purpose, he’ll barely live to regret his decision.” He turns to Bilbo. “The Ring, what had it done to you? The old tales say it had a will of it's own.”

“It did worse to Frodo. But it did… have a hold, on me. From the moment I picked it up, it held enough sway to make me hide it from you all. I won't be able to take it to Mordor alone, I-I fear it would claim me more easily than it did Frodo.”

“I would go with you.” Thorin presses his forehead to Bilbo’s. “We all would, I'm sure of it.”

Resounding agreements fill the smial. All but Gandalf, who still looks so shaken by such news that he hardly seems to be focusing on the party in front of him.

“But after Erebor,” Bilbo says firmly once it quiets down. “The Battle thinned out Sauron's armies, it'll be an easier journey. Possibly. And-and with Smaug dead, Sauron will have a major blow to his plans, because they're in league, Smaug told me so the last time around. I didn't understand it at the time but, they are.”

“And what of my part in this?” Gandalf's voice is somber. “What path must I take?”

“Let me remember- you only told me this once in Valinor, and I was very old. … I believe you went to Dol Guldur, after a meeting with the White Council in Rivendell and after taking us to Mirkwood. I think- and I hope my memory is right- you said you were saved by Lady Galadriel.”

“Who my Gimli also charmed,” Gloin couldn't help but add. “She gave him three of her hairs! He asked for one, and she gave him three! Silver-tongued like no other. We should put him on your Council, Thorin.”

“In due time, Gloin. Bilbo, The Ring-”

“Will probably get a strong hold of me again. Even knowing what it was, I-I never, truly, rid myself of it's influence, neither did Frodo. Even now, I feel empty without it. But it has to be done, Thorin. I just ask you all watch me, and make sure I don't… don't make off with it.”

“It's a promise.” Thorin whispers the words almost reverently. 

“... Are you two going to be together this time, then?” Dwalin asks suddenly, with all the subtlety of his usual endeavors. Bilbo’s mouth drops open and he looks at Thorin, who-

Well, who shares none of the shock, actually. Instead he has a soft smile. Bilbo’s mouth snaps shut, though his eyes remain wide, and he gives a quick nod. Thorin gives him a much less quick, reverently lingering kiss on the forehead, and coins are tossed about the table- an old, old bet, that had never seen a true conclusion, now finally fulfilled. Gandalf rubs his forehead. “One more surprise from this party and I shall go through the entire Shire’s worth of Old Toby before our journey even begins.”