#Fotfics September Event

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Cinnamon

Second request, this time by @lordoftherazzles, my dearly beloved...

Characters: Thorin x Bilbo

Words: 172

Warnings: Illness & its remedy

Thorin stared at the two cups with intransigent sternness.

“You better be right, Ori, or else…” he muttered under his breath as he tried to thread his thick, broad fingers through the delicate handles of the custom-made mugs.

Bilbo had lately been under the weather but, between Óin and Ori, Thorin’s old company mates had come up with a beverage that was supposed to make him feel better.

“Cinnamon,” Bilbo croaked immediately and brought the thin-walled drinking vessel to his stuffy nose eagerly. “Where did you get this from?”

“I have connections,” Thorin declared darkly—he was not about to let his beloved know that he had begged Bard to convince Thranduil to procure him a spice ineptly described as “sweet but spicy…and delicious”.

“You’re the very best,” Bilbo sighed after a long sip. Smiling blissfully and pinking up almost instantly, he sank back into the thick blankets. At that sight, Thorin decided that this smile was worth every indignity he had suffered to give his Hobbit a tiny piece of home.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Cinnamon #Thorin x Bilbo #Thilbo #Bagginshield #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[fellowshipofthefics]

WELCOME TO #FOTFICTEMBER! 

September's challenge is centered around fall-themed drabbles! Make them spooky, cozy, or anything in between! We want to see everyone inspired, but not bogged down by this event.

So remember, you don’t have to spend a lot of time on these (unless you want to!) nor are you required to complete each day. Pick and choose, just write! We want to see it. There is no right or wrong about these, just have fun with it!

Be sure to tag #fotfics and #fotfictember so we can find your drabbles!

Happy writing! 🍂🎃

#monthly events #fictember

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Apple picking

This one was just the first thing that came to mind...

Characters: Thorin, Kíli, Fíli

Words: 131

Warnings: Slight sadness

“What about this one, Uncle Thorin?” Kíli was positively beaming with pride.

Just as he was about to look down, Thorin remembered something his sister had said and bent his stiff knees to be on eye level with his youngest nephew.

“That is indeed a wonderful apple,” he praised and tucked the proffered fruit into his already overflowing basket dutifully.

Observing how Kíli was now rubbing his grimy fists against his soulful, all-seeing eyes, Thorin scooped him up lovingly before running after Fíli who was recklessly trying to climb the last tree of the orchard.

“None of that, young prince,” he laughed, plucking his sister-son like another apple from the low-hanging branch.

Remembering his own lost brother and his fondness for ripe apples, the uncrowned prince smiled bravely through the pain.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Apple picking #Thorin #Kíli #Fíli #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Cuddles

Dear @jaz-the-bard, thank you so much for this lovely prompt. I hope you'll like this :D

Characters: Maedhros, Maglor, Elrond, Elros

Words: 209

Warnings: Sick kids, reference to crimes

Eyes bulging and heart beating fast, Maedhros stared at two pale faces; his own contorted into a mask of incomprehension and distress at the mewling sound of misery escaping those who had gone from mere hostages to something much more dangerous and much less simple to define.

“They are ill,” Maglor commented, his powerful voice trembling treacherously. “Aren’t they?”

Maedhros shrugged, only moving his good shoulder jerkily, and stepped closer to the makeshift cot they had cobbled together for the two half-elven children in their care.

Huge, feverish eyes met cold, grey ones—while holding his twin clasped in his bony embrace, Elrond was visibly struggling to make sense of the contradiction of healthy apprehension and needy despair.

After a breathless moment of inner debate on all accounts, the boy lifted his arms pleadingly.

It had been centuries since those two murderers had held trembling younglings in their intrepid arms, but—in the face of such barefaced, humble need—they did not hesitate.

“Time to recall your lullabies, Káno,” Maedhros chuckled under his breath and swept the sweat-moist hair from a heated brow tenderly.

For all the callous, terrible mistakes they had undoubtedly committed, they were sure now that wrapping their guilty flesh protectively around undisputed innocence was right.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Cuddles #Kidnap dads #Kidnap fam #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #Maedhros #Maglor #Elrond #Elros

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Boots

Ahhhh, @lycheesodas (amazing artist and lovely writer) is good enough to let me try my hand at their beloved again <3

Yes, I am still thinking about that art, so this turned out a bit naughty!

Characters: Beleg, Mablung

Words: 144

Warnings: Nudity, sexual innuendo

The first time Mablung had seen the boots, he had instantly hated them.

He had never glimpsed anything as loud as those abominations that would unfailingly give away Beleg’s position to even the blindest and dumbest of foes.

Nevertheless, as time went by, he grew accustomed to their unique ugliness and even came to develop a reluctant fondness for them, because they gave his beloved such joy.

Now, as he walked in on a completely undressed Beleg—wearing nought but those eyesores—he gave a guttural, visceral groan.

“My love,” he said calmly, “hitherto, I have refrained from this, but you leave me no choice—the boots have got to go!”

“Forever?” Beleg’s huge, pleading eyes made Mablung’s heart swell at the same time as other parts of his anatomy.

“For now…” he replied feebly and fell into the most welcoming embrace in Arda.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Boots #Beleg x Mablung #Beleg #Mablung #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Soup

Ah, I have humour! Soup...Éowyn cooks...

Characters: Faramir x Éowyn

Words: 256

Warnings: Soup

Faramir looked down at the bowl between his palms with benevolent curiosity.

“I…” His newly-minted wife frowned and quickly snatched up the spoon—poised and ready—he had picked up. “Let me try first—I’ve not been very successful in my previous attempts to prepare a palatable soup.”

Relinquishing the utensil with a soft chuckle, Faramir cocked his head.

“We were all in the middle of a war,” he reminded her gently, “and you’ve not been raised to be a scullery maid.”

“I’d rather not poison my husband’s body or heart,” she replied bitterly. Taking a deep breath, she dipped the edge of the spoon into the thick stew and brought it to her tense lips.

“Woman,” Faramir teased. “What happened to fulfilling your wifely duty by feeding me? I do very much yearn to try your soup!”

Letting the pink tip of her tongue dart out, Éowyn made a pensive face before nodding slowly.

“It is all right,” she declared. “Keep in mind that my land, my people, and my tastes might seem rustic and simple to so accomplished a man as you.”

Ladling a full spoon of piping hot liquid into his mouth, Faramir hummed happily.

Once his mouth was empty again, he grinned encouragingly at his beloved.

“Your person, your skills, and your cooking are a humble captain’s delight, this I vow solemnly,” he promised. “I hope the pot is still on the fire, for I doubt that this ridiculously small bowl your brother has sent will be enough to sate my hunger.”

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Soup #Farawyn #Faramir #Éowyn #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Pie

Another all-time favourites!!!! Have some happy Halenthir...

Characters: Haleth x Caranthir

Words: 238

Warnings: Worries and pie...nothing

Haleth was beaming with joy—every line of her face was aglow with her barely contained excitement.

“Happy Harvest Day, Lord Caranthir,” she chirruped.

Upon hearing the uncommonly joyous inflexion of her usually so stern voice, Caranthir flinched almost imperceptibly; indeed, he felt considerably overwhelmed and rattled by her demeanour and knew not how to react.

Extending her scarred, tanned arms, she presented an ugly pie to him from which a delicious aroma of ripe fruit and delicious spices rose in whips of steam.

“Fresh from the oven,” she explained. “The children have helped as well; it was a matter of honour to them. For reasons I cannot fully fathom, they are very fond of you!”

Exchanging a panicked glance with one of his officers, Caranthir waved a stiff hand—surely, the man would find something valuable to offer the colony of Men in return for their exceptional generosity.

“I thank you,” he then said carefully. “Would you like to share this unlooked-for treat with me? I shall send for a bottle of wine, and we can discuss the matter of the blocked stream.”

“Nonsense,” she laughed and slapped his silk-clad arm playfully. “Today is one of the last sunny days before the season of bleak desolation, why don’t we sit outside and just…enjoy ourselves?”

Despite a thousand grievances and worries on his mind, he inclined his head and slowly returned her radiant smile. “Lead the way, Milady.”

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Pie #Halenthir #Caranthir #Haleth #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Hand holding

Eh...no explanation for that one!

Characters: Caranthir x OC

Words: 110

Warnings: Fëanor is being annoying?

As her fingertips trailed the delicate bones, encased in perfectly pale flesh, of Caranthir’s fingers, she quickly hid the smile of private pleasure by coyly averting her flushed face.

Every scar and needle prick told a different story—they were tales of reckless daring and meticulous skill, and she, akin to a blind person, read them avidly through nought more than the feather-light caress against living vellum.

While her father-in-law lectured, impassionate, she lost herself in the secret account of her husband’s secrets and most cherished memories.

Tightening his nimble, strong fingers around her sensitive palm in turn, Caranthir hummed softly, letting her know that he welcomed her discreet exploration.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with another one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Hand holding #Caranthir #Caranthir x OC #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Fotfictember Masterlist

AH, another month, another challenge...

To kick things off, I've decided to go with some of my favourite pairings and characters, but feel free to request any and all others!

I'll be writing S H O R T (I promise) ficlets of 100+ words, as inspiration strikes!

Let's playyyyy...

Apple picking (Thorin, Fíli, Kíli)

Leaves falling (Ori x OC)

Hand holding (Caranthir x OC)

Campfire (Russingon)

Baking (Eönwë x Gothmog)

Mist (Finwë x Thingol)

Harvest (Angbang)

Cozy pajamas (Finrod & Bëor)

Cuddles (kidnap dads) for @jaz-the-bard

Pumpkins (Aulë x Yavanna) for @cilil

Tradition (Fingolfin)

Boots (Beleg x Mablung) for @lycheesodas

Pie (Halenthir)

Corn Maze (Éomer x reader/OC)

Soft (Daemags)

Warm beverages (Námo, Irmo, & Nienna)

Family (Nerdanel x Anairë)

Sweet treats (Curuwendil)

Rainstorms (Fíli) for @laurfilijames

Cinnamon (Bagginshield) for @lordoftherazzles

Feast (Boromir x OC/reader)

Sweater Weather (Fëanor/Fingolfin) for anon

Candlelight (Celebrimbor x Annatar)

Festival (Barduil)

Acorns (Bilbo & Frodo)

Mushrooms (Irmo x Estë) for @cilil

Moon (Eöl x Aredhel) for @cuarthol

Soup (Farawyn)

Scarecrow (Celegorm, Curufin, Finrod & Turgon)

Author's choice - Walk in the forest

#og post #fotfics September event #Fotfictember #Masterlist #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Mist

Eh, thanks to @the-red-butterfly, these two are giving me intense brainrot lately...

Characters: Thingol x Finwë

Words: 122

Warnings: sad and lonely...

Finwë blinked.

He had abided in darkness and oblivion for so long that he was not entirely sure what exactly he had expected upon leaving the Halls of Mandos, but he certainly had anticipated more light.

The dense mist rolling across the empty plain stung his bleary eyes, and his heart was heavy with a nameless, unidentifiable sense of dread.

His sons were not here. His wives had not come. Elwë remained somewhere beyond the sea and underneath the marred earth of a foreign land.

He was alone, and—for the first time in an eternity—that solitude filled him with a thought-numbing, all-defying ache.

In Doriath, Elu Thingol stood motionless, cloaked in grey mist, and thought of his long-lost lover's touch.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Mist #Thingol #Finwë #Thingol x Finwë #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Soft

No monthly challenge would be complete without them...

Characters: Daeron x Maglor

Words: 250

Warnings: Slight sadness, some crying

If it hadn’t been for the crown of foam on the cresting waves, whipped into a frenzy by Maglor’s impassionate song, Daeron would have believed himself entirely cocooned in a bubble of indistinguishable, murky grey.

He understood the wrath that poured out of his friend and lover in a twisted torrent of white-hot agony, but the pale veil of autumn called for softer melodies to blanket their raw nerves.

Weaving his own song into the sharp-edged verses, defusing and mellowing them by wrapping notes of love and forgiveness around the shards of splintered bones that Maglor was conjuring up, Daeron smiled at the vast nothingness of the impassible ocean.

In an unprecedented act of self-sacrifice, he abstained from moulding his own pain and resentment into blades to cut through the frail filaments of another’s memory; instead, he embraced the ire and the hollow fear and gave them wings to soar above their bowed heads.

“I’ve never taken you for one of those singers,” Maglor hissed snarkily. “When did you grow so soft?”

“Balance,” Daeron reminded him tenderly as he cupped his tear-stained cheek. “It’s the heart of all things worth preserving. When I howled, you hummed soothingly—if you need to break, I’ll spin a net of light and music around you, so no piece gets lost in the storm of our own making.”

When they finally collapsed in each other’s arms, sobbing quietly, the ocean seemed to reverberate with a thousand soft notes that fell like rain around them.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Soft #DaeMags #Daeron #Maglor #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Sweater Weather

Anon, congrats for your galaxy brain!!!! Here goes nothing...FëaÑolo for you!

Characters: Fingolfin x Fëanor

Words: 296

Warnings:They are half-brothers! Be aware! Also sadness, theft, sexual innuendo (Go big or go home)

Fëanor stood as if struck by lightning—he would not have been able to move from his vantage point even if Eru himself had come to shoo him away.

He had been searching for a specific tunic—long-sleeved and heavy—for many days as the cold wind shaking Yavanna’s beloved trees unquestionably called for a change in daily outfits.

As a matter of fact, he had even accused and reprimanded several servants and the odd family member in his frantic quest for this avowed favourite of his.

None could have predicted the unlikely place he would find the bitterly regretted treasure once more—in the very hands of his infuriating half-brother.

For a moment, Fëanor was sure that Fingolfin sought to destroy what he knew to be loved by the half-brother he surely must have loathed and detested.

Instead of tearing the well-worn fabric though, Finwë’s second-born son lifted it to his face tenderly and breathed in the fragrant mixture of skin and dust greedily.

“Oh brother,” he sighed into the soft material as he hugged it to his chest with undeniable tenderness. “This is what you reduce me to—you have turned me into the thief you’ve always seen in me. If only your heart was as easily absconded as this empty shell of a body, I so revere. No matter, it has touched your skin as I never shall…”

Stepping out of the shadow of the column he had leaned against for support as his knees turned to water, Fëanor cleared his throat.

“Return this to me, for I love it well,” he commanded, smirking when his half-brother’s hands merely tightened possessively around the garment. “Unhand it, I say, and I shall give you something warmer even if less yielding to hold on to.”

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Sweater weather #Fingolfin #Fëanor #FëaÑolo #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Festival

Another Hobbit ship, so y'all don't think I've forgotten you!

Characters:Bard x Thranduil

Words: 241

Warnings: It's kinda cold?

Bard stared up at the canopy of the trees, trying to make his woefully inferior eyes trace and fully appreciate the silver lining edging every single leaf like the finest embroidery known to any race in Middle-Earth.

“Are you cold? I should have warned you that the festival would be outside,” Thranduil asked as he slid up next to his guest of honour without so much as disturbing the carpet of dead foliage he walked upon.

His voice elevated the discreet rustle of the branches overhead into a secret song that echoed in Bard’s heart without ever being consciously processed by his dazed mind.

“I’ve survived worse,” he laughed and tore his eyes from the natural spectacle to behold a much more tangible and yet much less comprehensible miracle.

The opportunity to bask in the iridescent glow of that wondrous apparition—truly regal tonight in his richly adorned robes—was enough to dispel any mundane notion of a potential chill.

“It is late,” Thranduil opined, his tone adamant, “and I have been a terrible host.”

Shrugging out of his marvellously light and yet warm overcoat, the King of the Woodland Realm draped this masterpiece of Elven craftsmanship around Bard’s broad shoulders; it smelled like a forest in spring and summer berries, and the bowman couldn’t help but grin giddily.

“Come,” Thranduil invited, “let me get you some wine, and then I shall introduce you to our most hallowed and beloved stars.”

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Festival #Barduil #Bard #Thranduil #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Scarecrow

Dearest MoonLord, thank you kindly for all your lovely comments on Ao3--they really mean the world to me.

I was not entirely sure if you had any specific pairing in mind, so I kept it gen.

In that sense...

Get thee gone from my gate, thou jail-crow of Mandos!

Characters: Curufin, Celegorm, Finrod & Turgon

Words: 241

Warnings: A scarecrow...and an insult

“You must be out of your mind!” Curufin shrieked at the sight of the elaborate, life-sized doll his half-cousin was presently adorning with heavy jewellery with much gusto. “I take offence to this!”

To his shock and dismay, his brother had grabbed one of the expertly crafted hands of the thing and was waving it at him in that joyously insolent manner that was so typical for Celegorm.

“It’s not supposed to be you!” Finrod exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock as he dropped the necklace he was holding up to the grotesque puppet. “I promise.”

Turgon was not nearly as apologetic—actually, he was visibly pleased with the result of his painstaking work as he went through a thorough inspection of the perfectly life-like mobility of their monstrosity.

“Father?” Celegorm chuckled, staring interestedly into the dead, beady eyes of the scarecrow. “He’d be the kind to insult birds of any feather and shoo them away with exaggerated aggressiveness,” he then admitted.

When those bright, almost colourless eyes turned pleadingly to him, Curufin merely grimaced.

It was true that the likeness to the great Fëanor—willing antagonist to the Valar and his own blood alike—was uncanny.

The craftsmanship as well was an incontestable testament to Ñoldorin quality, this much he had to concede grudgingly.

As a tawny bird swooped down and promptly veered, Curufin found that—for all its merits—the accursed object, grinning lopsidedly at him, was excessively vexing.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Scarecrow #Curufin #Celegorm #Finrod #Turgon #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Mushrooms

My dear friend @cilil was good enough to send me this one! It was very fun to write! Thank you endlessly, babe!

Characters: Irmo x Estë

Words: 175

Warnings: Drug use, nudity

Estë was wandering along the hidden paths of her garden leisurely when she heard the familiar hum of a happy although sleepy voice.

Lying in the embrace of fragrant, soft grasses, her husband dozed—heavy-lidded and entirely naked—by the iridescent pond of restful dreams he so loved.

“My darling,” she called softly. “How many times do I have to chide you for overindulging in the powers of the purple mushrooms?”

“They’re my favourite,” Irmo replied in a sweet, slightly lisping mumble and gave her a vague smile that mellowed her heart.

Whisps of visions and reveries swirled around his radiant head like fireflies—it seemed to her that her beloved wore a flickering, ephemeral halo which only heightened his otherworldly beauty.

“Come, you old fool,” she laughed and lifted him into her strong, enduring arms as if he weighed nought more than his whimsical moth-form.

“I had a wonderful dream,” Irmo whispered, nuzzling against the smooth expanse of her slender throat. “You were there.”

“And so I am,” she agreed, “and always shall be.”

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Mushrooms #Irmo #Estë #Irmo x Estë #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Corn Maze

Ah, this one is just fanservice! He's a favourite amongst my followers!

Characters: Éomer x reader

Words: 256

Warnings: Distress (very light)

“Éomer?” you called, suppressing a nervous giggle as you turned sharply only to face yet another solid wall of corn.

He had promised that it would be great fun to wander through the corn maze—a strange assembly of pathways some brave soul had cleft right into the thriving field—and, naïve as you were, you had believed him.

How you regretted that moment of weakness now that you were hopelessly lost, surrounded on every side by patently deaf ears of corn that were understandably unmoved by your lamentations.

An echoing snigger resounded somewhere ahead, and—shifting from one foot to the other nervously—you could finally make out a gap in the sea of gold and green.

A surge of renewed determination overcame you, and you gritted your teeth, ploughing on bravely.

“Catch me if you can,” Éomer teased from behind yet another impasse.

Even though he had known this little playground since before he had been old enough to sit a horse, and despite the unfair camouflage his radiant hair afforded him, you were sure that—sooner or later—you’d catch up with him.

“You’ll see,” you called, challenge ringing in every syllable of your battle cry. “You’ll rue your words.”

Bursting into laughter, Éomer promised you a thousand kisses and a foot massage if you managed to get to the exit before him.

You closed your eyes and followed the sound of his cheery voice in the same faithful, trusting way as a million times before. He’d see you through, he always did.

@fellowshipofthefics here we go with the next one!

-> Masterlist

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 <3

#og post #FOTFICtember #Fotfics September Event #Corn Maze #Éomer x reader #Éomer #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt