#pippin drabble

[babe-bombadil]

Monumental Mischief

Summary: Boromir receives a mysterious bottle from Merry and Pippin. Havoc ensues. (Happens post-battle of Isengard on the journey back to Helm's Deep.)

Written for the 2023 @fall-for-tolkien event! Inspired by You Have Mail by @i-did-not-mean-to

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,184

Read on AO3 or below

“Um... Gandalf?”

The wizard looked up to see Pippin and Merry looking at him with what they surely thought were innocent smiles but he knew were devious grins. He narrowed his eyes at them and raised an eyebrow. Merry elbowed Pippin and he spoke again.

“We were wondering if there was any way to get some more of that Entwash that Treebeard gave us?”

“Purely for research purposes of course,” Merry interrupted.

“And we wouldn’t be drinking it ourselves, just, um, studying it some more. You know, to learn more about the mystical ways of the Ents,” Pippin finished.

Gandalf paused. He found himself in a difficult predicament. If he said no, the hobbits would never let it go. Constantly bugging him and asking for it every time he got a chance to sit down. It would be no use to explain to the pair that he did not have access to the draught. They were convinced he was all-powerful. However, Gandalf knew it would be an absolute disaster to give the young hobbits Ent-draught. They were already both taller than any hobbits Gandalf had known, and even if they did keep their word and not consume it themselves, they would surely be using it to wreak havoc on the company.

He kept silent for a moment, pondering his next move, when he was struck with a devious idea. Why not give the hobbits a taste of their own medicine? Surely no harm could be done, and they would all have a good laugh. He could use a splash of entertainment.

“Very well,” Gandalf replied. “I shall see if I can procure some for you. And I must say, I am delighted that you have decided to take a scholarly path. Run along now.”

That night, Boromir was laying out his bedroll when he found a small brown sack that had been slipped into his bag. Curious, he opened it to find a small glass bottle and a letter. He unfolded the note and attempted to decipher the scribbled handwriting.

Dear Boromir, Here is a little thank you present from your favorite members of the fellowship. It will help keep you strong so you can keep teaching us sword fighting. We know you’ll enjoy it!

Signed, Your favorite hobbit (and Pippin)  Pippers and Merry Berry Merry and Pippin!

Boromir’s face split into a grin as he chuckled. He really did care for the hobbits and was honored they would give him a gift. In Gondor, the giving of a gift implied great respect and admiration. Apprentices often gave gifts to their masters to thank them for passing on their skills. Folding the note carefully and tucking it into his pocket, he turned to the vial. It was a rather peculiar shape, large at the bottom and curved to a small opening at the top, and filled with an amber liquid. He heard stifled giggles in the bushes nearest him and fought a smile. Perhaps it was hobbit custom to hide nearby while a friend opened your gift.

He pulled the cork out and downed the entire thing in one gulp. To his surprise, it tasted just like regular Gondorian mead. An odd thing to have, to be sure, and too small an amount for his liking, but he was grateful nonetheless. Too worn out from the day to question how his friends procured the drink, he laid down to sleep with a happy smile on his face. It was nice to be appreciated.

The next morning Boromir opened his eyes and stretched with a yawn. A smile set itself on his face as he sat up. His good mood was such that he even began to hum while packing up his bedroll. He had a feeling it was going to be a great day.

Swinging his pack over his shoulder, Boromir strolled over to where Aragorn, Pippin, and Merry were sitting eating breakfast.

“Good morning, friends,” he called out as he approached.

“Hey Boromir! You’re sure looking tall today,” Merry yelled back. He glanced at Pippin, who nodded his head emphatically.

“Even for a man, you seem very large,” the young hobbit added. “We’re so lucky to have such a tall and strong person in our company!”

“Isn’t he looking tall today, Aragorn?” Merry turned his head to look at his friend. Aragorn gave a tired sigh. He did not get enough sleep to deal with whatever antics the two hobbits dreamed up.

“Just finish your breakfast already. We need to get on the road.”

“Aragorn?”

The ranger sat up from where he had been starting a fire. “Yes, Boromir?”

The man took a deep breath. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Is it true what the hobbits have been saying all day? Am I actually looking a lot taller?” Boromir asked hesitantly.

Aragorn furrowed his brow. “If you’re looking for compliments, you’ll have to try someone else.”

“No, that's not it. It’s just…” Boromir hesitated. Aragorn set down his sword and turned his full attention to his companion.

“Yes?” he prodded.

“Well, the hobbits gave me a drink of some sort the other night and I assumed it was mead, but now I’m worried they somehow got their hands on some sort of growing potion,” Boromir rushed. Aragorn tried to keep his expression serious as he nodded.

“Growing potion.”

Boromir dragged his hand across his face. “I know it sounds fanciful, but they have been making comments about my height all day and it has made me worried! Even my boots don’t fit quite right anymore! Am I truly unnaturally tall today?”

Aragorn took a deep breath and pursed his lips to fight down a smile. It appeared that his friend was legitimately distressed, and it would not do to mock him now. He laid his hands on Boromir’s shoulders. “I promise that you look exactly the same height as yesterday. A completely normal height for a man. I do not know what Merry and Pippin were referring to, but can one ever know what those two are on about?”

Boromir, who had been holding his breath, heaved a sigh of relief. “I suppose I’ve overreacted. The hobbits were probably just trying to compliment me. Thank you, my friend.”

Gandalf smiled to himself. Giving the hobbits a fake potion was a genius plan, if he did say so himself. They couldn’t complain to him that it didn’t work, because to do so would admit they had given it to someone. And if they truly wanted to study it… well, Gandalf knew that definitely wasn’t true. He had successfully pranked the pranksters. Besides, the smallest part of him had enjoyed watching Boromir’s distress grow throughout the day. Such a valiant man being afraid of his height was extremely entertaining. 

Suddenly anxious, the wizard reached into his saddle bag and ensured the palantír was still inside. He was afraid that with the prank having failed, young Pippin’s thoughts would again turn towards the stone. Oh, Gandalf wished the hobbit had never picked it up. Perhaps he would sleep with it tonight, just to be safe.

Thanks to @psyche-the-ya-protagonist for being my awesome beta reader!

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Let me know your thoughts or personal headcanons!

#lotr #lord of the rings #boromir #tolkien #pippin took #aragorn #merry brandybuck #merry and pippin #gandalf #the fellowship of the ring #the lord of the rings #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #merry and pippin are pranksters #fluff #pranks #boromir lives au #the return of the king #tolkien ents #scribbles & drabbles 2023

[blueberryrock]

for the winter prompts list, 💭 w/pippin & fem!hobbit! reader pls? 👀

Simple Love.

A/N okay this is loosely based on the song with the same title as the fic cause let me tell you my anon friend, I HAVE BEEN LISTENING TO THIS DUMB SONG AT LEAST 3 TIMES A DAY, so i ofc had to use it lol

Anyways enjoy!

Rules, Requests, and More

"Sweetheart?" A familiar muffled voice calls out after the sound of the front door closing echoes through the house.

A quiet sigh escapes Y/N as she sets her book down in her blanket-covered lap. "In here Pippin," she calls out, cringing at the small pain in her throat before she makes sure to bookmark her spot. Her eyes travel from the thick book in her lap to the doorway in front of her.

"I have told you plenty of times not to call me that," Y/N says, scrunching her nose as a certain blonde Took bursts into their bedroom. "You know how I feel about pet names."

"I see you are feeling well enough to read?" Pippin hums, ignoring her comment as always. Closing the door with his foot, Y/N squints at him as she notices he's holding something behind his back.

Y/N crosses her arms with a small huff. "Yes, I am in fact," she mumbles before an annoying itch in her runny nose bubbles up. "But what do you have behind your back?"

"Nothing," Pippin says quickly, too quickly. 

"If it will help get rid of this accursed cold I will gladly take it," Y/N frowns as the itch in her nose grows stronger. Quickly she throws her hand out to grab her well-used handkerchief that is crumpled on her nightstand and sneezes harshly into it. 

"It won't unfortunately," Pippin frowns as he shuffles closer to the other side of the bed. "But maybe it will cheer you up?" 

"Then stop talking and show me," Y/N croaks, hating how sore talking made her throat. A small smile grows on Pippin's face as he pulls out a small bouquet of Sweet Willams from behind his back. 

"Here, honey," he says as he leans on the bed to hand them to Y/N. "I saw them at the market while Frodo and I were searching for soup ingredients."

As soon as Y/N grabs the bouquet, which is wrapped with a satin white ribbon to match the flower's beautiful petals, she presses her face into the delicate flowers. "Thank you, Love," Y/N sighs at the flower's sweet scent. "I will have to put them in a vase next time you let me out of bed."

A small chuckle bubbles from Pippin as he unbuttons his red vest and tosses it somewhere on the floor as he slides onto the bed next to Y/N. "So I was thinking that after you fully recover," Pippin starts as Y/N shuffles closer to him and lays her head against his chest, silently enjoying the warmth he gives. "We could visit the bakery you like in Bree? Does that sound good dear?"

"I am going to let those pet names slide," Y/N huffs as she can sense Pippin's smile from her comment. "But I care not what we do as long as you keep me warm." Y/N mumbles as a small cough rises up her throat.   

"Do you want me to make you some tea?" Pippin asks as Y/N wraps her arms around his waist and shakes her head. 

"Just stay here, love," she croaks before Pippin lets out a sigh and wraps an arm around her shoulders. 

"If that's what you want, I shall deliver."

Join the Taglist!

@starryeyedrogue, @errruvande-2-0, @errruvande,

#lotr #lord of the rings #pippin x reader #pippin #pippin took #fotfics #fluff #nat's drabbles

[8thparadox]

Apple picking is hard when you're only 3 feet tall

#inktober #lord of the rings #lotr art #merry brandybuck #pippin took #hobbits #truths drawings #this year for inktober im gonna be picking and choosing from three dif lists just based on what prompt i like best for that day #so today it's from a list that's not actually a drawing list but rather the fellowship of the fics drabble list lol

[alolanrain]

There is only one instance that Professor Cerise has seen Ash completely deathly calm and still was last Monday. He had walked out into the park, going to say hello to Goh’s Pokemon like he normally does every morning, only to see Ash sitting in the middle of a little clearing.

Pikachu was off to the side along with Ash’s other Pokémon. The mouse was deep in slumber while his teammates eyed their trainer wearily. They sat next to Pikachu in an attempt to at least seem calm and collected, though the muscle shifting under most of their skin showed otherwise. Ash seemed to be asleep, even his eyes where closed, but Cerise had seen him asleep many times. The Trainer was an open mouth snorer. He didn’t do quite in the realm of dreams just like Ash didn’t do quite in the waking world. His chest was rising to obviously and steady, that was the first thing he noticed.

The second thing he noticed was the bunch of Mew’s draped either around or on the Trainer. The Professor just had to sit there and stare at the sight for a few minutes alone just to get come to terms of the quantity of mythical’s, let alone all of them choosing Ash like some kind of heating pad or space heater. Cerise’s eyes were dragged towards what seemed to be the biggest Mew. It didn’t look like the normal short haired and bubble gum pink colored Mew that showed up in those extremely rare photos. No, the fur was much more longer and even looked as fluffy as a cloud. It’s fur was a more maroon-ish color as well.

The second Mew that caught his eye was draped around Ash’s neck. the end of its tail curled around Ash’s upper arm and it was a distinct color difference then the first big Mew. More of a color close to rouge then a maroon-ish tiny and less fur then the first as well. This Mew was slightly tinier but that could just be the Professors eyes playing tricks on him. This entire scene might just be a trick that Gengar could be pulling on him.

on top of Ash’s head was another Mew. This time noticeable smaller then the last two and definitely the more distinct versions of the Mew the science field is used too. Long tail but not too long with bubble gum pink short fur. The end of that Mews tail was long enough that it was curled over Ash’s left shoulder, right for Cerise, and hooked a bit into the rouge colored mews tail near the base.

Lastly there was a little blue bundle in Ash’s lap. It was barely visible but it’s little chest was rising almost the same obvious and rhythm as Ash’s. Cerise would probably put a few grand down in a betting pool if that was a shiny Mew.

He didn’t get a closer look as Ash opened his eyes and the three bigger Mew’s raised their heads. All four staring directly at the Professor. What made the man freeze wasn’t the unwavering hostility in three out of four pairs of eyes but it was the fact that all of them were shiny blue. Ash’s eyes are brown.

So Cerise did the only logical thing he could do. He raised both of his hands, only one of them holding his cup of coffee, waved good morning and gave Ash a thumbs up with a tight lip smile and immediately turned around and went back inside. Closing the door to the park behind him.

He walked past a few of his colleges and directed them to do a few different tasks before they naturally stumbled out to the park and come across the same scene as he did. No doubt with how young they all were they didn’t have the same 6th sense of ‘Danger! Do not come near!’ as Cerise has. It came with the job after a few years but still.

What made the Professor start chuckling before he had to stop and lean against a random wall before he made it to his office was not the fact that he had three, maybe even four, Mew’s in his park. But the fact that Goh was two feet away from Ash, deep asleep and laying in the grass with his back to his colleague.

Two feet away and asleep. 

#ash ketchum #professor cerise #goh #Pikachu #blueberry mew #pippin mew #ma’am mew #nana mew #Ash also didn’t have his hat on but that’s not important #chaos drabbles

[what-am-i-even-doing-tho]

October Drabble Challenge 2023

Day 6- Hill

"On calm summer days like this one, he can see it so clearly in his mind's eye."

#lotr #tolkienverse #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #rose cotton #merry brandybuck #pippin took #frodo/sam/rose #ao3 tags #fluff and angst #daydreaming #post canon #drabble #my fanfic #mine #october drabble challenge 2023

[crossingbaranduin]

I should really make a WIP masterpost sometime soon just for the hell of it + as motivation to complete some of em 🤔

#though let’s be real this is really what the post will be: #1) all the goddamn post-3x02 ficlets I have #2) that one ‘sleep deprivation’ prompt fic that’s nearly done #3) the stupidly long nsap fic series written solely for myself (it’s like 10k already and mostly outline. it’s a problem / also my fav lol) #4) the mini series of sickfic drabbles #5) + that one bagginshield and that one merry+pippin wip buried under everything taj #6) any other assorted hurt/comfort fics somehow not already listed

[shadowtriovibes]

Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #requests #my fic

[scyllas-revenge]

hi! i just read you leap of faith parts and it made my heat flutter🩷 how do you think legolas, boromir, and aragorn would react to you sleep talking during the journey? i always thought it would be funny !

Thanks so much!! I’m so glad you liked it. I’m still having trouble finding a voice for Aragorn, and I’m ready to move on from Legolas for now, but here’s a bit about Boromir and a sleeptalking reader for you <3 I meant for this to be a 300 word drabble but it got away from me a bit, as usual.

A Thief in the Night

Boromir/gender-neutral reader

Rating: G

Word count: 1,300

Read on AO3!

“No, no, please!”

Boromir’s eyes snapped open. Your bedroll was the closest to his in the Fellowship’s makeshift camp, and your panicked cry had him wide awake at once. He leapt from his bedroll with a warrior’s instinct, his hand flying to his sword to defend you from— 

Nothing. You were still asleep.

The entire Fellowship remained undisturbed, other than occasional resounding snores from Gimli, a peaceful breeze ruffling the tall grass around your camp.

But even in the faint moonlight, it was clear your sleep was not peaceful, not any longer. “Please, they’re mine, you can’t…please—” Your eyes darted back and forth under their lids, your limbs twitching. Boromir hardly recognized your voice, hoarse with misery, sharpening quickly to fury. “I said they’re mine, give them back!” 

In the throes of your dream, you stretched out a grasping hand, nearly clawing at his concerned face as he leaned over you. “Whoa now,” he murmured, catching your thrashing wrists in a broad hand. Your mouth twisted into a snarl as you strained at his grip, vainly reaching for something long lost. 

Boromir sent a reluctant look back to his sword. Would that your tormentor was a thing of flesh and blood, something he might tear apart on your behalf! Such intangible enemies as these were beyond him. How was one meant to calm someone lost to such a nightmare? Uncertainly, he whispered your name. “Come now, you must wake.” 

Your unconscious attempts to shake him off put him in mind of a horse beset by flies. “No, no, stop, you sneaking—foul—thief! Give them back, damn you…”

Clumsily, he brushed the back of his fingers along your cheek, interrupting your tirade. “Arise, dearest, for you—” He choked at dearest, stifling a hurried cough. Valar, he had hardly intended to address you so intimately—it must have been a slip of the tongue, he decided, in his haste to comfort you.

Or perhaps his own dreams, cut short by your cries, had not yet left his mind.

Still, you remained asleep, and likely for the best. He took a deep breath and jostled your shoulder—less intimate, and therefore a good deal safer. “Wake up! I shall retrieve what was taken from you, if I can. But you must wake.” 

“No—no, you thieving rat, Pippin—”

“Pippin?” he repeated, startled. Had he heard you wrong? 

“…don’t even need them—hobbits don’t even wear shoes, just give them back!” 

“What?”

His baffled exclamation woke you at last, traces of fury still lingering on your brow. “What? Where—where is Pippin?”

Boromir raised an eyebrow. “The thieving rat, you mean? Sleeping soundly in his bedroll.”

“No, no, it’s a lie! My walking boots, Pippin stole them, he…he…” But your voice trailed off in confusion as your mind returned to you. Your eyes flickered down to your hands, still caught gently in his, then back up to his face. 

Coughing hastily, Boromir withdrew. “You—you were dreaming.” 

“Oh. Yes.” Groggily, you sat up and rubbed at your eyes. “Pippin stole my walking boots.”

Boromir stared at you for a long moment. You stared back. Then he was laughing, more heartily than he had in months—perhaps since he’d left Minas Tirith on this cursed journey in the first place. He rested his forearm on his bent knee, burying his head in the crook of his arm to stifle the sound. 

Stretching out his other leg beside you, he met your gaze again at last, tears of mirth welling in his eyes. Your defensive scowl mollified him a bit, though he could not help smiling fondly at you.

“It made a great deal of sense in my mind, you know,” you protested. “Pippin grew jealous that hobbits wore no shoes, as the race of Man does. So he took my boots when I removed them for the night, put them on, and fled—oh, stop laughing, will you? You’ll wake the others!” 

Boromir nodded, valiantly attempting to calm himself. “I had thought you beset by some great terror,” he admitted, “but I had not expected such betrayal from within our own Company.” 

“It was not so dire as all that,” you muttered, looking embarrassed. “I had nearly caught him when you woke me.” 

“Is that so?”

You nodded. “Pippin was unused to wearing boots. He ran like a dog trying to cross a frozen pond.” 

For another moment, Boromir was lost again, chest heaving helplessly with silent laughter until you delivered a swift punch to his arm. “Ahem. Forgive me.” He had not meant to lose himself to your words like a drunken, lovesick youth. “Always you take me by surprise,” he said softly, in explanation.

“Yes, well. You are forgiven.” A shy smile played on your lips, and he beamed at the sight.

“Would that all our dreams were so lighthearted—that yours might remain so, though we journey into darkness.” On impulse, he took your hand in his again, squeezing warmly. “Would that I might protect you from—”

“From thieving hobbits?”

Valar, how he wanted to kiss you. “Yes, exactly.” He sent an exaggerated glower in Pippin’s direction, hoping to win more of your laughter. 

But your smile had grown pensive, and you shook your head. “Have your dreams been so dark, then, Boromir?” 

No one had asked him such a thing before, had ever given a thought to his dreams beyond the one that had brought him hither. “They have been, at times. But not tonight. I—” He looked away quickly, his traitorous mind supplying memories of his earlier dream in salacious, torturous detail. “Well. Pippin’s untimely theft woke me from it, in any case.”

“I’m sorry to have disturbed it,” you said. “He interrupted a more pleasant dream for me, too.”

“Oh?” He risked meeting your eyes again, but found that you were the one looking hurriedly away now. It was too dark to tell, but he thought a flush was rising to your cheeks. 

“It’s—a dream I’ve had often before. There was no harm done, really.” Your hand fidgeted in his. “Boromir, I—I have not talked in my sleep before tonight, have I?” 

“Not that I have heard,” he assured you, and your shoulders slumped in relief. He eyed you curiously for a moment more, but you offered no further explanation, your eyes still determinedly avoiding his. “I should let you return to your rest,” he said at length, “that such a dream might find you again.” 

Now the heat on your face was obvious, even in the faint moonlight. “Thank you.” Meeting his eyes at last, you disentangled your hand from his, patting the back of his hand fondly before drawing away. “I wish you the same.”

“I...I will see you at dawn, then,” he said awkwardly, distracted by the heat of your fingers still sinking into his palm.

Smiling softly, you turned away and burrowed into your bedroll. “Oh, I hope to see you sooner than that,” you murmured. “Providing no thieving hobbits interrupt me again.”

It took a moment for your words to sink in. “What?” Boromir leaned over your bedroll again, blood thrumming in his ears—but your eyes were determinedly shut tight, the hand that had rested in his clutched tight to your chest. “Will you not speak plainly?” he demanded, and he swore a faint grin flickered over your lips.

“Goodnight, Boromir.” Your teasing voice was so faint that he nearly missed it, and he retreated to his blankets with his mind racing, his heart pounding, thoroughly defeated and thoroughly in love.

There was no chance of returning to his dreams of you now, he knew. In only a few words, you had robbed him of his sleep for the rest of the night—and likely many more nights to come.

#lotr fanfic #boromir #boromir x reader #yooo two fics in one week?? #i'm on a rollllll baby #tolkien fanfic

[ryehoneyinkstains]

Weathering with You

Aesop Sharp x Reader

Pub AU. Previously established relationship. Drabble, of sorts.

He hadn't meant to turn around when you called his name. Even though he had spotted you first, standing in front of J Pippins, scowling down at the parchment in your hands. He had paused in his step, traitorous heart leaping at the sight of you. He hadn't seen you in weeks and while he had told his mind that he did not miss you, he had yet to convince himself.

It was all rather foolish.

He knew that he needed to stop by and pick up his supplies for the week, Parry had sent him an owl in the early morning asking him to stop by at the earliest. Yet Aesop could not make his feet move, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he was being ridiculous. So what if he had to walk past you? You were so engrossed in whatever you were reading that you probably wouldn't even realize it if he slipped past you without a word.

Instead, and it had nothing at all with the way his heart hammered away at his chest with such vigor that he felt his breath shorten, he turned and made his way down the alley to The Magic Neep. If he was going to be in Hogsmeade, he might as well pick up a few other things he was running short on.

He blamed his cowardice on age and tried to push you from his thoughts as he rubbed his hand over his heart, willing it to settle. His mind could run amok with scenarios, but if his heart kept at it, it would only worsen the pain in his leg and he was trying to kick his overreliance on Wiggenweld.

Aesop had only made it a few steps before you called for him. His step faltered only in the slightest, hand tightening around his cane as he forced himself to ignore you and keep going. Hogsmeade was a busy place, bustling with people and students shouting every which way.

"Aesop!" you called again.

And this time, he couldn't stop himself from turning around.

You waved at him, a smile on your face. He had seen that very smile a thousand times, yet it always managed to send a peculiar warmth through him. Aesop tried to maintain his composure, offering a polite nod in your direction. He'd say hello, tell you he was busy, and be on his way.

But you were already walking in his direction. Easily you made your way through the group of Gryffindors that stood in the center of the path, all of them talking at the very same time about things that he did not care to pay attention to.

"It's been a while since I've seen you," you say once you are nothing but a few steps from him. He found the way you looked at him rather disconcerting. "How have you been?"

"I've been...well." he says after a pause, the handle of his cane suddenly catching his attention. He clears his throat, ready to tell you that he doesn't have time for this right now.

"Doing a bit of shopping?" you say at the same time he opens his mouth, cutting him off.

"Picking up supplies for the bar."

"Do you mind if I join you?" the question hangs in the air, the seconds stretching between you. He wants to tell you no, yet its almost as if he can taste the yes at the tip of his tongue. He doesn't mind your company, but looking around the bustling streets of Hogsmeade, the people weaving around them; part of him feels like they're staring at him, judging him.

The silence goes on for too long, and he agrees out of societal politeness. Nothing more. "If you'd like." he says faintly, his throat dry.

You seem to brighten at his words. But he looks away before you can see the conflict in his eyes.

He used to be much better at hiding his emotions. Maybe age has made him soft after all.

You walk besides him in silence, and its for the best. It's been a long time since he's participated in idle conversation. Just the thought of asking you a mundane question such as 'What brings you to Hogsmeade today?' made him wince internally. It was simpler at the bar. When he's behind the counter, conversations are about drinks. He didn't have to befriend his customers. Still, he finds that there's something he wants you to answer.

"You haven't come to the bar lately." It comes off more as a statement, his voice laced with restraint. Just because he spent the last few days watching the door and longing to see you push them open, it didn't mean that he had to make you aware of the fact.

"Oh," you startle, and for a second Aesop wonders if you were lost in your own thoughts. He doesn't blame you, he wasn't exactly the most exciting man to be with.

"Did you miss me?" you tease him, the corners of your lips stretching.

He looks away with a scoff. "Don't flatter yourself. The bar's just quieter than usual."

The response is sharper than he intended, and he immediately regrets it. But you seem to pay him no mind.

"Another compliment, hmm?" your smile only grows, Aesop's scoff turning into an inward sigh. "Am I so lovely that you'll willingly admit that without me, the bar just isn't the same?"

Your playfulness almost makes him smile. Almost. "I prefer the quiet." he says, the tension in his shoulders lessening as an ease falls between them with every step towards The Magic Neep. "Though, I suppose the regulars have started asking about you."

"Have they?"

"I have no reason to lie."

"Hmm," you say softly and he looks over at you. The look on your face looks troubled. But it's gone as soon as he noticed. "Would you believe me if I said that I've been trying to drink less?"

"No." He's still looking at you, his steps slowing as the slightly sour smell of the neep gets stronger. "You don't exactly have a drinking problem."

"Ah, but I still think I drink too much."

The noise he makes is guttural, an almost disbelieving grunt. "I hardly think a drink every now and then constitutes a drinking problem." The scent of Magical herbs is so strong that he can taste it when he swallows as he holds open the door for you.

Your smile falters and you duck your head in gratitude before stepping inside. "Maybe not," you concede, following him as he makes his way to the far back. "But I've been finding myself thinking about it more and more lately."

"About your horrible drinking problem?" he can't help the sarcasm that drips from his voice as he reaches for a jar of pickled mandrake and inspects it.

You make a noise of annoyance and this time he smiles, his back to you. "No! Ugh. You're making fun of me."

He doesn't say anything to that, just gives you a small hum.

"I'm afraid I will come to rely on it too much... maybe it's the stress of things, but at the end of most days I start to think about how nice it would be to just drink and forget." The more you talk, the softer your voice gets until it's just a whisper that he has to strain to hear.

He sets the mandrake back in place, already deciding to get a couple for some new drinks he was experimenting on. Turning to face you, he was surprised to find that your cheeks were warm with embarrassment, your eyes glued onto the cobblestone beneath their feet. In that moment he felt himself wanting to reach out and comfort you, to feel the warmth of your skin under the roughness of his hands.

He kept his hands to himself as he asked if you were alright, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"Just a little embarrassed. It's not something I wanted anyone to know."

"So why did you tell me?"

Your eyes find his, the flush on your face deepening. "Sometimes I find that I can't keep my mouth shut when I'm with you."

Aesop feels the carvings on his cane bite into his flesh as he squeezes it at your words, his face a mask that gives nothing of his internal turmoil away. Your words, delicately spoken, make him feel far more important than he knows he is.

"It's never good to fear the things you like." He says, putting the conversation back on track. "If you think about having a drink as a bad thing, then you will only end up working yourself into a deeper mess." He pauses, wondering what it was that he was doing, offering you advice as if you cared to hear what he had to say.

"I know men who use the bottle with such religious fervor that its the only way they can survive. They wake up with scotch on their tongues, and yet its never enough for them. They're slaves to their vices, and the more they fear it, the more it consumes them."

Aesop continues, aware of the way your eyes linger on him as he shifts from foot to foot. "Instead of seeing it a weakness, try to find a balance. If a drink is what helps you unwind, then let it be a moment of relaxation, not an escape."

There's a pause, a silence that falls between them and Aesop wonders if perhaps he's overstepped somehow.

"Thank you, Aesop." you finally whisper.

He grunts, walking around you. He did not like how your voice made him shiver with goosebumps. "Plus," he says, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm sure your cassis soda isn't enough to warrant such a heavy worry."

You laugh, and he can hear your footsteps as you follow him to the other end of the store.

"You know Aesop, sometimes I think that you're wasting away at that pub. You should have gone into teaching. Or writing. I'm sure your books would have sold millions."

He tries not to let the compliment fan his ego too much. "Is that so?" he says dryly.

"You've got a way with words that just captures people's attention. It's a shame you're so broody and quiet."

Aesop chuckles, a low, rumbling sound. "Maybe someday I'll pen a book or two." he muses, "But for now, I'll stick with brewing potions of a different kind."

"Another great talent of yours." you murmur, looking at the dried herbs that line the wall.

He doesn't say anything, your compliment settling into his bones as he makes his way towards the young woman behind the counter. Timothy must have been out for the day, if he had his daughter fill in for him.

He takes a peek at you, wandering away to look at the plants that line the shop's windows before he turns his attention to the woman and lists off everything he needs. She's quick with the pen, writing everything down before looking up at him.

"Would you like that delivered?" she asks.

"Please." he sets a few Galleons on the countertop. "To the Black Well in lower Hogsfield."

"Very well." was all that she said, handing him his change. "I'll send an owl when its on its way."

He nodded in thanks, pocketing his change before making his way over to where you were crouched down. "Are you ready?" he asks, wondering what it was about the dying plant that had you fussing over it.

"Yes," you say, straightening up. "Did you get everything you needed?"

"Almost. They were out of fire seeds."

"I could give you some, I recently went foraging."

"That's quite alright, I don't need them at the moment." he held the door for you before following you outside. He was sure that they hadn't spent that long inside the shop, but the little sun that was out had already disappeared. The sky darkened, and the air felt heavy with the promise of snow. Aesop fidgeted with his scarf, glancing over at you.

"There's supposed to be a really bad storm heading our way," you said with a sigh. "But I was hoping that we still had another day or so."

"Is that why you're dressed so lightly?"

"Huh?" you look down at the aged leather jacket you had on. "What's wrong with my outfit?"

"If you have to ask, nothing." he replies, heading back down to Pippin's shop.

"Do you not like it?"

The question was unexpected, Aesop turning to look back at you with incredulity in his eyes. He finds you smirking. He realizes the trap he's walked into and shuts his eyes with a groan.

"It has nothing to do with whether I like it or not," he says, tone gruff. "I just thought it was rather insensible of you to dress so casually when the weather's been so bad."

You laugh, the sound echoing through the cobbled streets. "Sensible isn't really my style, Aesop. Besides, storms can be exhilarating. I don't mind a bit of wind and snow."

Aesop shakes his head in disapproval, facing forward as he reached the steps. "You're going to get sick one day."

"Is that worry I hear in your voice?"

He ignored your taunt, switching his cane to his other hand and holding onto the weathered railing. Going up was always easier than going down. His leg protested every step, yet he pushed through the pain, his eyebrows knitting in concentration as he willed his knee to bend and leg to raise.

"Aesop, do you want my help?" you asked, suddenly besides him.

"No." he spit out. "I'm fine."

You stay besides him, and he can feel your eyes on him as he struggles with going down the stairs. His breath is visible in the cold air, and by the time he reaches the final step he has to lean against the railing.

"Aesop..." you whisper but he ignores you. Ignores the way you say his name with such worry that he feels embarrassed at having let you see him like that.

"I'm fine." he repeats, voice shaky. "It'll settle soon." He just has to catch his breath and count down the seconds until the throbbing in his leg lessens. A decade spent hobbling around with an injured leg, and still he found himself struggling. It was pathetic.

"Let's sit for a bit...?" you offer but he shakes his head.

"I'm not geriatric." he says tersely, testing his weight on his cane. "Come on."

He doesn't wait for you to say yes or no, already making his way towards the potion shop, his gait still a bit uneven.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with letting someone help you."

He nods, his eyes on the path. "I didn't need your help."

He hears you huff in annoyance, your pace quickening until your in front of him and he has to stop before he crashes into you.

"What?" he asks, finally looking at you.

"Why are you so stubborn?" you suddenly ask, the wind pushing your hair into your face.

"I'm not, now if you don't mind." he tried to walk around you, but his leg wouldn't cooperate, numb from being pushed too hard, too fast. He stumbled, dropping his cane as he found his footing.

Without hesitation, you bent down and grabbed the cane. "Let's go sit for a bit." you said. And this time it wasn't a question, or a suggestion. He could hear it in your voice that you weren't going to take no for an answer.

It both enlightened him, that you cared about him, even just minutely at the same time it sent him down a spiral of horrified shame. He should have carried some Wiggenweld with him.

He took the cane from you as you stood and brushed your hands clean.

He followed you in silence, though you slowed your steps until you were besides him. So close that if he angled his arm just right, he could brush his elbow against the inner curve of yours. Not that he wanted to, of course. It was simply an observation.

You led him a worn bench and sat down as he eyed it with caution. He knew that it wouldn't break, even if it did look like a sudden gust of wind would have the cobblestone crumbling into a pile of dust. Everything in Hogsmeade was enchanted to last. Still, he was careful as he took the seat next to do and laid his cane in between you and him.

A physical reminder of the space that lay between them.

Aesop groaned as he sat, stretching his bad leg in front of him and breathing in tandem with the waves of pain that rocked from his shin to his hip. He felt older in that moment. Weak.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

With a shake of his head, he rolled his shoulders, feeling them crack. "No. I just have to let it pass."

You bit your lip and frowned. "Is it always this bad?"

"I don't really want to talk about my lame leg." he wasted no time in saying, "It's not exactly a thrilling topic."

"Sorry." you say under your breath and sit back. He swears that he can feel the stones underneath him shift and groan.

The silence seems to stretch, and its like you've moved farther and farther away from him with every ticking second. Your eyes are on the crowds in front of you, somehow oblivious to the way he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

Part of him wishes that he was better at this, that sitting next to you didn't cause him to tense and worry about things that he hadn't worried about since he was in his twenties. How long had it been since he had a haircut? Should he had shaved this morning, after all?

He frowned at the silly thoughts that overtook him.

"Are you feeling better?" you ask, and it takes him a bit to realize that you're talking to him. With a stretch of his ankle, he nods.

"It's manageable. Thank you."

"Huh." you look at him, " I didn't think you were capable of gratitude."

He can't help the tiny smile that plays on his lips. "Me neither."

"I thought I heard a crash somewhere," you tease him with a grin. "Turns out it was you, dropping your legendary stoic demeanor."

Aesop hums, enjoying the banter more than he'd care to admit.

"In all seriousness," you say, taking on a more contemplative tone. "It's really nice to see you act so... human."

"Human?" he says, arching a brow.

"You're a mystery, Aesop. People talk, and there are all sorts of stories about you."

He scoffs lightly. "Rumors and gossip, mostly."

"But I think there's more to the man behind the counter at The Black Well. Something deeper, something you're not sharing with the world."

Aesop's gaze flickers with a mixture of surprise and wariness. "What makes you think that?"

You lean back, your eyes locked onto his. "Call it intuition. Or maybe, I'm just good at reading people."

He grumbles, not entirely comfortable with the idea of someone peeling back the layers he's carefully constructed. "You should focus on your own life, not mine."

The corner of your mouth twitches into a smirk. "Maybe I find your life more interesting than mine."

"I'm just an old man with a bar. There's nothing exciting about that."

"So you say," you reply, gaze unwavering. "But I don't really believe you."

He doesn't respond, letting the words hang in the air between you. He's tempted to tell you about his life from before. About his time as an Auror. But temptation isn't enough for him to bare his soul, so he swallows it down and shakes his head.

"Somethings are better left buried." he says carefully, grabbing his cane.

"What makes you think that?"

"Old age. Experience. Ton's of other things." He stands up carefully, wanting to finish his shopping before the snow fell.

"You're a bit obsessed with age, aren't you?" you ask as you follow suit and stand up as well.

Aesop chuckled, the sound carrying a hint of self-deprecation. "When you've been around as long as I have, age tends to become a focal point, whether you want it to or not."

"Merlin's beard, you're not that old, Aesop."

"Thanks." he says unenthusiastically, dusting himself off.

"I'm serious! I think you've got this timeless charm about you," you continue, walking alongside him. "I don't understand how you don't see it."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a bit delusional?" he says lightly, smile never fading.

"Not really."

"Well then, how joyous it is that I am to be the first."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Delusional or not, I stand by my words. There's something about you, Aesop Sharp."

He huffed, a warmth settling in his chest at your words. "Flattery isn't going to get you a discount, you know that right?"

You made a noise of disapproval as you crossed your arms over your chest. "No one asked for a discount."

"Yet."

Aesop startled when you nudged him with your elbow. "You're too cynical, Aesop. Its unbecoming."

"Call it what you will, but cynicism has its merits, especially in the business of running a bar. Keeps me on my toes." Aesop responded, unable to move away from you.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a sidelong glance. "On your toes, or with your guard up? There's a difference, you know."

"Fair point," Aesop says with a sigh. "Maybe its a bit of both. But enough about me." He cuts the conversation short, standing in front of the potions store. "If this keeps going on I might have a slip of the tongue."

"Scared you'll say something you will regret?"

He looks at you. At your cheeks, flushed from the biting cold, at your eyes that seemed to always carry a light in them. "It's not regret that I'm worried about." his voice is quiet.

"Then what?" you press but he shakes his head.

"Will I see you tonight?" he asks instead.

For a second, you seem a little bit frustrated at how he changed the conversation but sigh and it goes away. "Maybe... is that your way of saying that you want to see me again?"

He doesn't know why he says it, perhaps its the exhaustion in his bones, or the cold withering away at him. But Aesop feels his lips curve up into a smile as he reaches for your face. He doesn't let his fingers linger, just lightly pushes a strand of your hair that managed to escape your braid from your face and answers you with an honesty that he didn't know he was capable of.

"Yes."

A simple answer, the weight of the world behind it.

You smile at him.

#aesop sharp #professor aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x reader #hogwarts legacy #harry potter

[fili-urzudel]

Masterlist

Nothing fancy, just browse and enjoy.

Requests post here.

Fifty-one Prompt List here.

The Hobbit:

Bilbo

Starting to Date Headcanons

Remants - Drabble

Thorin

Pebbles - Fifty Follower Celebration

Second

Dwalin

Girl in Calico - Second Pt. 2

From Afar - Second Pt. 3

Pebbles - Fifty Follower Celebration

Fíli

Dating Headcanons

Moonrise - Fifty Follower Celebration

Kíli

Porridge

Enchanted - Fifty Follower Celebration

Jumbled

Ori

nothing yet

Bofur

Dating Headcanons

Thranduil

nothing yet

Legolas

Dating Headcanons

Balin

Pebbles - Fifty Follower Celebration

Gandalf

nothing yet

The Lord of the Rings:

Aragorn

Take a Break - Fifty Follower Celebration

Elrond

Dating Headcanons

Engagement and Marriage Headcanons

Domestic Life Headcanons

Boromir

nothing yet

Faramir

nothing yet

Frodo

nothing yet

Sam

Care - Fifty Follower Celebration

Merry

nothing yet

Pippin

Burden - Fifty Follower Celebration

Gimli

nothing yet

Éomer

nothing yet

#lotr #lotr fandom #lotr fanfic #lotr headcanons #the hobbit #the hobbit headcanons #legolas x reader #faramir x reader #aragorn x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #dwalin x reader #fili x reader #fili durin x reader #kili x reader #kili durin x reader #ori x reader #bofur x reader #thranduil x reader #frodo x reader #elrond x reader #eomer x reader #gimli x reader #samwise x reader #samwise gamgee x reader

[emmyspov]

Prompt 3 (Aragorn x Reader Drabble)

author's note: ahhh, i missed him <3 he's a character that feels like coming home. this is the first time i wrote for him and while i'm re-reading the books rn, it's been a while since i've seen the movies so please be nice 🥺

warnings: none that i am aware of :)

word count: 0.3k

gif by @yennefer

You tried to surpress a giggle as you tip toed alongside Merry and Pippin.

"He will hear you and then he'll pay you back", the younger one exclaimed, but you immediately shushed him.

"He will indeed if you don't speak more quietly! Come on, Aragorn deserves to have some fun as well." Your eyes softened as they fell onto the ranger.

"I'm not sure getting snow shoved down his neck is his definition of fun", Merry mumbled.

In that moment, Legolas turned around, making you stop dead in your tracks. But the Elf simply winked at you and started a conversation with Aragorn.

Over the next few minutes, you stepped closer and closer until you reached the man, ready to throw the snowball.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowball.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Aragorn turned around to speak to you, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"Or what?"

You were challenging each other and the rest of the fellowship was following your interaction eagerly.

"See for yourself."

That was all the confirmation you needed before throwing the ball, right into the ranger's face.

"Oh now you're gonna get it."

Within a second, Aragorn got off of Brego and tackled you into the snow, coming to a halt on top of you.

"Get off of me", you giggled, "all the snow is sinking into my coat!"

The ranger grinned and leaned back, only to pick up some more snow that he blew into your face.

"Aragorn, please, it's cold!"

Laughing, he let go of you and grabbed your hand to pull you up and into his chest.

"How did you know I was gonna throw the snowball?", you whispered.

He pressed his lips against the side of your head. "I have a sixth sense when it comes to you, darling."

#aragorn #aragorn elessar #aragorn x reader #lord of the rings #aragorn imagine #lord of rings imagine #lotr #aragorn my king #emmy writes #he is everything <3

[kylobith]

Last updated: 11 April 2024

Greetings, traveller!

Since I am planning to write more from now on, having retrieved a bit of creativity over the past few months, I thought it would be handy to create a masterlist to make it easier to find them here.

At the moment, my writing is focused on Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings in general, so brace yourselves for quite a few of those, even if they're just drabbles! I am currently working on a five-part story on Éomer, but I expect to write a bit more on my favourite character, Faramir.

I do expect to write some drabbles centred on the characters of Baldur's Gate 3, probably centred around Astarion, Karlach, Gale and Halsin.

Eventually, I might dabble in The Boys as well for obvious *cough* Karl Urban *cough* reasons.

I will add some of my old ones on Stranger Things as well, some of which I must admit I don't think I will finish (just lost the inspiration for those I'm afraid!)

If I have enough time to write in the future (it's tricky for now), I might even accept some commissions for short stories, but we'll see about that in time, no promises haha

Expect to find fluff and angst, but also some smut from time to time. Everything will be properly tagged.

Note: Some older fanfictions with multiple chapters will only contain the Ao3 link. I don't know yet if I'll really post every single chapter on here.

Anyway, if you take the time to read my stuff, I'm extremely grateful and I hope you will enjoy whatever I put out there! If you wish to be tagged on new releases, don't hesitate to ask and I'll make sure to do so :)

Everything is available on my Ao3 account

Enjoy!

Tolkien/Lord of the Rings

Engraved On My Heart

(Éomer x FemOC) Éomer unexpectedly bonds with Éorhild, a maid in his service. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 (Note: Part 1 was published on my sideblog, but the other parts will all be posted on this blog instead) In progress

Lord of the Rings Week 2023

Event organised by @lotr20 to celebrate the 20th anniversary of The Return of the King. One to three prompts per day. Day 1: Home (Poem - Merry, Pippin, Faramir, Éowyn, Sam, Rosie, Éomer, Lothíriel) Day 2: Language | Culture | Beauty (Faramir x Éowyn, Éomer) Day 3: Fear | Courage (Éomer, Merry, Pippin) Day 4: Friendship | Loyalty (Legolas, Gimli, rest of the Fellowship except Boromir) Day 5: Loss | Despair (Boromir, Faramir, Denethor) Day 6: Triumph | Healing | Hope (Sam, Frodo) Day 7: The Return of the King 20th anniversary (The Fellowship, Arwen, Faramir, Éowyn, Elrond, Théoden, Éomer, Théodred) Completed

Baldur's Gate 3

The Little Tiefling

(Gale of Waterdeep x Tav) While Tav is resting, Gale seizes the opportunity to bond with his daughter by reading her a story. Completed

The Trick

(Gale of Waterdeep x Tav) In all his life, Gale never imagined undertaking such a difficult task. But he must. Short prequel to The Little Tiefling Completed

Under the Oak Leaves

(Halsin & Gender-neutral drow Tav) After the Tiefling party, Tav feels melancholic and isolates themself from the camp. Halsin finds them and is set on alleviating their pain. Completed

Little Town Tails

(Halsin x Fem!Tav) After saving up for years, Halsin settles and opens his veterinary practice in a quaint little town. Beyond patients, he finds friends and love, but also trouble. When a business mogul agrees with the mayor to buy local shops for the implementation of his coffee chain to make Heawick more touristic, Halsin's practice is threatened. It will take more than a good word to save his lifetime project. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 In progress

Star Wars

The Inner Battle (Ao3 only)

(Kylo Ren/Ben Solo & OC Bounty hunter) One year after the destruction of Starkiller, the First Order still dominates the Galaxy. Kylo Ren ventures in the Mid-Rim territories, tracking a target on Ord Mantell, whom he knows will help him achieve a secret mission he has been planning since the beginning... In progress - Editing Note: Chapters might be eventually posted on Tumblr, but for now it's a bit tricky due to the fic's size (I have about 50 chapters written!)

Stranger Things

Swords and Hoops

(Steve Harrington x Reader) Steve meets you at the Palace arcade after you come back from your holidays in California. Completed

Steady (Ao3 only)

(Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington) As they recover from the final confrontation with Vecna, Eddie and Steve bond and realise that they bring out the best version of each other. But not only... Completed

Time After Time (Ao3 only)

(Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington) Sequel to Steady. Steve and Eddie start over in Seattle, yet a new obstacle comes to stand in their way: coming to terms with their queerness. In progress

The Holiday Fling (Ao3 only)

(Eddie Munson x Fem!OC) Summer of 1987. Arwen Lewis spends her holidays in Arkansas after moving to the USA from Wales. One night, she meets Eddie Munson, who turns what was supposed to be a camping trip into the best summer of their lives. In progress

Rock You Like A Hurricane

(Billy Hargrove x FemReader) [NSFW] [Smut] Billy pays you an unexpected visit when you're home alone. The night ends quite differently than you thought... Completed

#Fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction masterlist #masterlist #kylobith #lord of the rings #lotr #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings fanfic #lord of the rings fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #Eomer #Eomer Eadig #Faramir #Eowyn #Farawyn #Merry #Pippin #Gandalf #Frodo #Sam #Arwen #Elrond #Theodred #Théoden #Boromir

[strawwritesfic]

Frodo Baggins x Female!Hobbit!Reader: Girl

Summary: Frodo doesn’t really mean it about turning Merry and Pippins into toads, but there are times he wonders if that wouldn’t make things a little easier on everyone else.

Rating/Tags: All (Movie canon; during canon; Fellowship of the Ring; A Long-Expected Party; Pippin & Merry; Pippin & Merry & Frodo; Frodo & Gandalf; Sam/Rosie; quarreling; love confession; birthday party; the Shire)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Girl

Bilbo’s eleventy-first birthday party had been the talk of the whole Shire for almost the entire year that led up to it. Every hobbit in the town of Hobbiton—and many more from the outlying regions—was invited to the massive celebration. To the young Frodo Baggins wandering through the crowd, it seemed that each and every one of them had come. Plus some, he judged, as a line of his uncle’s well-wishers nearly crushed him in their eagerness to get to the buffet. He had seen nearly everyone he cared to, including Merry and Pippin and Rosie and Sam...save for the one person he had hoped to see most.

The weight in Frodo’s stomach grew heavier and heavier the longer his search for you went on. Could it be that you hadn’t come? Of all the hobbits to skip his coming of age party—and to add to that, he knew that it was his fault if you had! If only he had not said what he’d said just that very week. Then maybe, maybe—

“Frodo!”

He looked up to see Merry and Pippin waving at him from beside the band playing for the wide field of dancers between Frodo and his friends. Both grinned widely upon catching his eye. Unable to entirely hide his disappointment, Frodo morosely picked his careful way through the throng of party-goers to the pair. Neither of them stopped smiling.

“Why the long face, Frodo?” Merry asked.

“Are you still looking for [Name]?” added Pippin.

Frodo looked over his shoulder at the constantly-shifting dancers, half-expecting to see you there with some other neighborhood tween. He did not. Pippin’s grin widened as Frodo turned back to him and Merry.

“Never fear,” Pippin gave Frodo a hearty clap on the back, “for we have found your maiden fair.”

Frodo tried to protest this, but Merry overrode him: “A little bird told us precisely where you can find her.”

“Who was the little bird?” asked Frodo. 

Merry shrugged carelessly and reached for a passing tray of ales. “Gandalf,” he answered, passing Pippin a drink of his own while the latter nodded sagely.

“You know, I rather think Gandalf suspects us of something, Merry.”

“I believe you are correct, Pippin. And that he believes sending us on this errand to help Frodo will keep us from any mischief.”

“A pity for Gandalf. Everyone has to be wrong from time to time, I suppose, even great wizards such as he.”

Both sniggered into their mugs. Frodo waited for them to get to the point. They didn’t. At last, unable to wait any longer, he said:

“Well? Where is she?”

Merry gave a slight start, as though he had forgotten that Frodo was even there. He pointed off towards the edge of the main tent.

“Her mother has her helping with the catering, or so [Name] claims.”

“So you’ve spoken to her?”

Pippin shook his head. “Threw a plate right at my nose when we tried. You’ll probably have better luck.”

“I doubt it,” Frodo murmured. 

After gulping down the last of his ale, Merry made a shooing motion with his free hand. “Well, run along and find out, why don’t you? And if you see Gandalf along the way, tell him we passed along his message and were perfectly well-behaved for the duration of our conversation.”

Frodo knew that he ought to have been more concerned with his companions’ plans. If Gandalf desired to keep them occupied, it was probably for the best. A lot of planning had gone into this party. Merry and Pippin were more likely to ruin it with their particular brand of trouble than any of the other guests—and that included the horrible Sackville-Bagginses. On the other hand, Gandalf must have wanted Frodo to talk to you, if he’d gone out of his way to give him your whereabouts.

It hardly mattered. Before Frodo could breech the topic of whatever trouble the two were up to that evening, they had disappeared into the crowd. Oh, well. He hadn’t really wanted to tell them off anyway. His heart just wasn’t in it.

Relieved of this duty—though not without feeling some slight trepidation over what Merry and Pippin might have planned—he made his way in the direction indicated. This led him straight to a smaller tent set off from the rest of the festivities. Frodo joined the fast-moving line to the entrance and eventually came close enough to peek inside. A veritable hive of busy hobbits in uniform bustled endlessly before him.

None of them seemed to notice him slipping into the warm darkness after them. Everyone was far too busy with their assigned task. Here the party’s considerable amount of food was prepared, and none of the workers had time to rest. A constant stream of them carrying plates both empty and full moved in and out from the tent’s entrance flap. Heat from exertion and so many cooking fires pressed against Frodo’s skin until he was quite as pink in the face as those doing the baking. Of course, he found you at the very back, scowling over a steaming tub of water filled with dirty serving platters.

He was not surprised you were hiding among the cooks. Your mother was considered one of the top chefs in Hobbiton, and Bilbo had hired only the best for his eleventy-first birthday party. What did surprise Frodo was your expression. Rarely had he seen you appear so dour, and you hadn’t even spotted him yet.

“Pardon me, Mister Frodo,” said a man at Frodo’s back, “but if you wouldn’t mind scooting out of the way, I’d be much obliged. We’re rather in a hurry.”

Frodo hastily crossed the aisle in which he’d been lingering. The man’s additional, “and a very happy birthday to you, sir,” was lost on him, for at that very moment your eyes flashed upward to catch him in the act of spying. You dropped the platter in your hands, but being pinned in by the hobbits washing plates on either side of you, you could make no escape. One of the washers left, only for Frodo to step into the empty space.

You crossed your arms across your chest, and shot him a look eerily reminiscent of your mother. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my party,” Frodo answered, “as well as Bilbo’s.”

Apparently this was the wrong answer, because you threw him a dirty look and bent to snatch your dropped plate from the sudsy water. “Then go enjoy your party,” you snarled, attacking a stuck on bit of potato with more vigor than Frodo thought necessary. 

He inched closer, the better to stay out of the way of those continually coming to deposit dinnerware in need of washing. “I can’t,” he said. “I don’t have anyone to talk to.”

Your mother had explicitly freed you from catering duty for the party. She had done it as a favor to Frodo, an early birthday present, she had said. Why, then, did you seem so insistent on doing what wasn’t your job for the evening? Without bothering to look at him, you dropped your tray back into the tub, then reached over the resulting splash for a new plate.

“I’m sure Merry and Pippin would be more than happy to talk with you,” you said coldly.

“I don’t think I want involved with whatever they’re up to.”

“Bilbo, then.”

“He’s busy playing host.”

“Gandalf.”

“How would he keep an eye on Merry and Pippin?”

You threw your hands up in the air in frustration, and lost your grip on the plate. “Why not Sam?”

Frodo shuffled his feet. You were nearing the subject of your fight, whether you realized or not. “He and Rosie are dancing.”

Nose wrinkled, you rummaged through the water in search of your platter. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Frodo. Those are all the boys I know, and your only friends. After all, you told me yourself we can’t be friends, because I’m a girl.”

His wide blue eyes closed in shame. Frodo had said that. He hadn’t meant it. The whole thing had been badly bungled, and now he didn’t know how to un-bungle it, or if you’d even give him the chance to try. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, [Name].”

You did not answer this time. Having retrieved your wet things, you made a silent, angry beeline for a rack of clean towels to dry them with. He followed as quickly as he could, given how many hobbits were inside such an enclosed area. He wished he wasn’t having this fight so publicly—not that anyone really had the time to eavesdrop.

“[Name], I didn’t,” he insisted as he caught up to you. “You’re a girl.”

“Oh, very astute observation,” you said semi-hysterically. Now the pitch of your voice was drawing attention. “What would I do without you? I already figured out I was a girl because, in case you haven’t noticed, we're no longer friends!”

Frodo took a deep breath. Like mother like daughter—though he supposed you were still a tween, with your own coming of age several months away still. Either way, he was terrified of your rage, but this might be the last chance he got to explain himself. Bracing himself, he lightly looped one hand around your wrist. You fell into an enraged silence at once.

“You’re a girl and my friend,” he said, before you had the opportunity to recollect yourself. “When I said I didn’t have any friends that were girls…well, I meant that you’re something more.”

“What?” you said after a moment of struggle. 

Encouraged by your not making to run off again, Frodo slipped his hand from your wrist to your palm. “I didn’t mean that we weren’t friends. I was trying to ask you to dance with me. I just didn’t phrase it right.”

A strange noise like a cross between a giggle and a squeak escaped you. You still had not forced him to release you. “You wanted to dance? With me?”

The odd tone of your voice gave Frodo some doubts. You were not normally the kind of person to repeat others either. He offered you a hesitant nod.

“I didn’t mean to make you think you mean less to me than Sam and the rest. You don’t. You mean more. But,” he added when you remained as stiff as a statue in front of him, “if you want to just stay friends, I understand. So long as we’re still friends.”

Seconds went by as you continued to gape at him. His heart sank, and he let go of your hand at last. Yes, he understood you wanting to remain friends, but that didn’t mean he wasn't disappointed by this turn of events. Bilbo’s occasional asides about broken hearts made sense now. Frodo mashed his lips together for a long moment before he gathered his wits about him to take his leave.

“You’re busy," he said awkwardly as he backed away. "Bilbo will be looking for me. We’ll talk some other—”

“Of course I’ll dance with you!”

Frodo had barely got two steps toward the crowded tent exit when you practically tackled him in a hug. Twisting in your grip, he looked around to see your scowl had transformed into an enormous smile.

“You will?” he said. Bewildered as he was, his heart felt ten pounds lighter even as you shuffled off him to allow him room to stand.

“Yes! I—I like you as more than a friend, too. I’d love to dance with you. If,” you looked suddenly shy, “if you still want to after I was so mean.”

“You weren’t mean. I said the wrong thing. I got nervous.”

You smiled again, a little less brightly this time. “So…still more than friends?”

“More than friends,” he said. “But can you leave? Will your mother let you?”

“Are you kidding? She’ll serve me next if she catches me hiding from you in here.”

Just like that, you both were hand in hand again. Frodo squeezed yours firmly in his own. “Let’s go. I think I can get the band to play—”

KABOOM!

Everyone in the tent yelped and froze. Plates trembled. Frightened hobbits dropped their plates. You threw Frodo a knowing look.

“Pippin and Merry?” you asked.

“Pippin and Merry,” Frodo said wearily. “Let’s go see what sort of trouble they got in this time.”

“Then we dance?”

“Then we dance.”

The two of you ducked out of the food tent and headed for where Gandalf and a cluster of half-drunk hobbits—all grumbling over the fright they had received—were gathered. 

It was hard for Frodo to be too upset with Merry and Pippin after they’d help him get together with you. Gandalf had, too, however, so it could be that they were about to get what they deserved. It all depended on how much time this business took, and if Frodo at last got to have his long-awaited birthday dance.

On second thought, he hoped Gandalf turned them both into toads. It would be faster, Frodo thought, and after all, Gandalf could always turn them back...after you and Frodo had your dance.

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #second person pov #one shot #challenge fic #request #frodo #frodo baggins #lord of the rings #lotr #frodo x reader #frodo x you #frodo x y/n #frodo baggins x reader #frodo baggins x you #frodo baggins x y/n #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x y/n #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #lord of the rings reader insert #lotr reader insert #frodo reader insert #frodo baggins reader insert

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

I’m just going to make my own post for each drabble. May link them into a masterpost later. 😂 Check out the original post/prompt list. And feel free to send me requests if there are any specific combinations/pairings you want to see.

Day 1-  Road Field Trip + Professor/Teacher + "Don’t you remember? We used to do that in school all the time." + Bagginshield

Thorin and Dwalin stood by with their arms crossed watching the chaos unfold before them. Fifteen unruly six year olds had been unleashed upon the zoo, and it seemed to be all their poor teacher could do to keep their attention, much less in any semblance of order. It certainly made his two little terrors mild in comparison.

“Pippin! Merry! You get down from that tree this instant!” The curly haired man ordered. “Yes, Sam we will get to see the elephants. You just have to be patient. Oh Frodo, yes I will pick you up. Now come along, the otters are this way everyone.”

Thorin was finding himself endeared to the man, and it wasn’t just because he was cute especially while bossing a bunch of children around with a dark haired lad on his hip. 

“Maybe we should help him out.” Thorin stated, already moving to follow the group. “He looks like he needs an extra set of eyes, and those two especially seem keen on driving him up a wall.”

Dwalin snorted. “Don’t you remember? We used to do that in school all the time.”

“Try to climb into the hippo enclosure?”

“Give our teachers a nervous breakdown.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. They weren’t that bad.

“No, I think you’re thinking of my nephews.”

“Speaking of which…where are the rugrats?”

Thorin looked over to the komodo dragons where he had last seen them only to find them gone now. Panic filled his chest. Dis was going to kill him! He and Dwalin shared a look before they split up, each taking a direction, and calling out for the boys. Thorin’s heart was in his throat as he peered over the edge of the crocodile pit. Please don’t let them have fallen in anywhere. 

“We found them, Mr. Bilbo!”

Thorin’s head whipped around only to find Fili and Kili leading the two troublemakers from earlier back over to the school group.

“Oh thank Heavens! Merry! Pippin! I’m about to have a stern talking to with your parents later for your behavior today. You might want to smart up so I have something good to say as well. Thank you boys. Now, where exactly have you wandered off from?”

“Fili! Kili!” Thorin barked as he sprinted over to them.

The teacher looked up in surprise before smirking back at his squirming nephews. 

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” He demanded.

“We’re sorry Uncle Thorin.” Kili immediately offered.

“Yeah, we were just wanting to listen to Mr. Bilbo talk more about the otters.” Fili tried to defend.

“And then we saw Merry and Pippin move over to the gorillas and we thought we could help.” Kili tacked on.

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you left Dwalin and I without a word.”

They both ducked their heads in shame, and Thorin sent a quick text to Dwalin telling him he found them and where they were.

“I’m afraid your Uncle is right, boys. That was very irresponsible. I would expect better from such upstanding gentlemen.” The teacher pointed out.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Bilbo.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow confused as to why his nephews were responding so well to a complete stranger. The teacher held out his hand, shifting the dark haired boy around. 

“Bilbo Baggins. First grade teacher at Shire Elementary. Fili and Kili were in Mr. Balin’s class, but I remember the two well.”

That was not exactly a compliment, but Thorin grinned and took the extended hand anyways.

“Thorin Durin. I’m their uncle.”

“I figured as much. Balin has mentioned you a couple of times, but mostly when he’s talking about his brother.”

Thorin felt his cheeks heat up. “We’re not together! We’re cousins.”

Bilbo’s eyes were shining in amusement. “Yes. I knew that.”

Right. Balin probably would have said something. 

“Mr. Bilbo! Merry and Pippin are trying to swim with the otters!” A little girl screamed behind them.

Bilbo threw his head back in exasperation, and Fili and Kili seemed to take this as their cue.

“We’ve got it, Mr. Bilbo!”

“I don’t know why I ever thought going to zoo on a Saturday with those two was a good idea.” Bilbo grumbled.

Thorin felt a smile pull at his lips. He was even cuter up close.

“Maybe…it might be easier for both of us to continue our visit together? The boys seem to like helping out which makes it easier on me, and you know…an extra set of eyes probably wouldn’t be remiss.”

Bilbo looked hesitant, but hopeful. “I would never want to pull you away from your own time to babysit a bunch of six year olds.”

“I don’t mind. Besides, maybe I can learn something about the otters too.” Thorin grinned.

They stood there a moment longer grinning like idiots when…

“MISTER BILBO! FILI AND KILI ARE HELPING MERRY AND PIPPIN TO PET THE OTTERS!”

Thorin was going to kill them.

#modern au may #sunny's drabbles #bagginshield #teacher bilbo #merry pippin fili and kili together is utter chaos

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Let Me Hold You - Frodo Baggins X GN Reader

Title: Let Me Hold You

Frodo Baggins X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Gandalf (Mentioned), Merry (Mentioned), Pippin (Mentioned), Aragorn (Mentioned), Legolas (Mentioned), Sam (Mentioned), and Elrond (Mentioned)

Requested by: @almost-gabrielle!

Drabble

WC: 500

Warnings: Mention of Mordor, the ring, Frodo's injured hand mentioned, awkwardness, anxiety, crying, mini angst, and fluff

Frodo was bathed in a soft yellow light, his body floating on a cloud of relaxation and calm. Slowly opening his eyes, he took his time surveying the surrounding scenery. And in his mind, he was asking; 'Where am I?' Slowly, once more, Frodo took the time to sit up, his eyes glancing around the room. Glancing down, Frodo paused, seeing you. You sat on the ground, your head resting on the bed, arms used as a pillow. You slept soundly, eyes closed, eyelashes resting gracefully upon the apples of your cheeks; a beautiful sight to behold.

Frodo was so relieved that you were still alive, having joined him, Sam, Merry, and Pippin on the journey to destroy the one ring. Tentatively, Frodo reached out with his injured hand, brushing your hair away from your face; you hadn't even looked harmed, with no cuts or bruises. Suddenly, your eyes fluttered open, realization flowed over you and you quickly looked up, your eyes meeting Frodo's blue ones. You scrambled to sit up, your joints burning as you took a seat on the bed, gently taking Frodo's hand into both of yours. 

"Oh, Frodo," You sighed, tears building up in the corners of your eyes, "You're awake,"

Frodo just stared at you, mostly in shock, "Y/N?" He spoke up before his eyes landed on Gandalf in front of him, clutching his new staff. The old wizard gave him a fond smile, "Gandalf?" His surprised expression slowly turned into one of pure happiness; a huge smile on his face. Gandalf nodded, letting out a chuckle and Frodo matched his laugh, so many emotions surging throughout him. The door to the room then opened, revealing Merry and Pippin, both alright. Bright smiles appeared on their faces as they came bounding over. You took a few steps back, though happy to see Frodo alright, you were a bit crestfallen that you didn't have more time alone with him. Frodo brought Merry into a hug before Gimli appeared, stretching his arms out to his side with a smile. "Gimli!" The Hobbit greeted, as the Dwarf clapped his hands with joy. 

Next at the door came Legolas, his piercing blue gaze landing on the alive and well Frodo, and lastly Aragorn arrived; a huge smile on his own face. But, who could forget a certain Hobbit, who carried Frodo down that mountain that was slowly being devoured by lava and fire; Samwise Gamgee had pushed past the threshold. 

But soon, the small crowd dispersed, and you were finally alone again with Frodo. It was awkward, slightly, as you took your seat on the bed. You let out a shaky breath, trying to stay calm; you opened your eyes when you felt his bandaged hand cover yours, making you look up at him and meet his gaze once more. 

"I should be the one comforting you," You muttered out a small laugh, sniffling.

Frodo just gave you a smile, "Please," He spoke softly, "Let me hold you."

#cute #fluff #slight angst #x reader #x gn reader #x you #x y/n #drabble #request #requests open #requested #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #lotr #frodo #frodo baggins #frodo baggins x reader #frodo baggins x gn reader #frodo baggins x you #frodo baggins x y/n

[horsewithaface]

Been working on an Everyone Lives AU (ignore me being in denial of the events of BOTFA) which is focused between the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.

So uh until then have a little idea drabble that I’m quite fond of:

• Fíli and Kíli essentially act as older brothers to the young hobbits

• Kíli teaches Merry and Pippin how to cause mischief and almost cries in pride when their pranks go right

• Kíli taught Merry to skateboard, Pippin tries to join in (by stealing Merry’s board and building the shittiest, most unstable ramp of course) but has absolutely no idea what he is doing and stacks it immediately.

Like he doesn’t even make it to the ramp - he steps on the board and it immediately slips out from underneath him, crashing into the ramp while he lays on the ground pretending he isn’t in immense pain.

• Anyways-

• Samwise has autism and OCD and frequently feels out of place among the young hobbits. He goes to Fíli for comfort when feeling left out and insecure because everyone else is having fun but he just can’t seem to let loose and have fun. Merry and Pippin say he’s uptight and no-fun.

Fíli will sit with him in the garden, not speaking much because he’s not the greatest with words of comfort, but makes sure Sam knows that he is loved by making him a flower crown and just being there while Sam tends to his garden (well, it’s technically Bilbo’s but he gifted it to Sam because of how much love and care he put into it).

After he makes sure that Sam is contentedly humming away as he tends to his garden, Fíli sits down with Merry and Pippin and tries to remind them to keep an open mind and that everyone thinks differently and likes different things, and that it is okay.

Merry instantly catches on and realises that he should make an effort to be more accommodating for Sam, but Pippin takes a while because of his raging impulsivity. Pippin tries his best but frequently slips up, earning a reminding nudge and glance from Merry.

Sam really appreciates their kindness and finally begins to feel like part of the group. Although, he suspects that Fíli said something, but when approached about it, Fíli merely ruffles Sam’s hair and chuckles with a knowing glint in his eye.

So yeah :3 lmk if anyone is interested in reading more about this little AU or if you have ideas/suggestions absolutely tell me!

#lord of the rings #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit imagine #samwise gamgee #samwise imagine #merry brandybuck headcanons #merry brandybuck imagine #merry brandybuck #pippin took #pippin took headcanons #pippin imagine #kili imagine #kili durin #fili and kili #fili durin #fili imagine