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This is a fanfic writing /Reader blog. With oneshots or headcanons (& more) about our favourite fictional characters (be they from Middle earth to Faerun). This blog is predominately Lord of the Rings.
I'm always happy to talk, like listening to headcanons - for /reader or fandoms - so please don't be intimidated. We're reading the same things in the same fandoms, after all <3
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Yes, hello, I am the recent order of fics and fries! 🍟
Since I have to choose just one... could you go ahead and do the headcanon for Legolas?
Hello again anon! Legolas is a fine choice indeed. I've taken the medication to be pills instead of injections/other regular forms of medication, but it doesn't come up that much - and what they're for is unspecified. How/why these exist in Middle Earth is also kindly left to the reader's imagination.
(Here's the original request)
❝𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲?❞ « ficlet »
Pairing: Legolas X GN!Reader
Wordcount: 0.3k | TWs: None
✧ As you briefly recount the medication in your hand, your fist closes around them before you look around for the glass.
✧ Finding it, you realise Legolas has entered the room at some point - his eyes just flickering up from your now closed hands.
✧ Before you can speak, he looks away sheepishly, "My apologies, I... should not intrude. I was just curious."
✧ "Curious?" The concept is foreign to you, that you could do anything to pique an elves' interest. Let alone Legolas's.
✧ "I cannot see how they are supposed to be filling."
✧ "Filling?" Opening your hands to look down at the pills, you can't help but laugh a little, "You- you thought these were my breakfast?"
✧ "I haven't seen you eat anything else today." There's a slight flush on Legolas as he says it, "I was not sure what else it would be."
✧ "They're..." You stop for a moment, then carry on, "They're my medication. They help me keep healthy, hopefully."
✧ A silence settles between the two of you, and Legolas goes awkward again. "I see. Are you...?"
✧ "Fine." You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile, before taking the glass of water and grimacing for a moment as they go down. "The most annoying thing is remembering to take them all."
✧ Seeing a little confusion in his eyes again, you add, "I take them daily. Usually before my breakfast."
✧ "I will endeavour not to confuse the two of them again." Legolas's joke is a little shy, but his eyes light up when you offer him a laugh for his remark. "Do you wish to join me to eat?"
A/N: Hopefully you enjoyed this, anon, thanks again for the request <3
hiiiii! Um, I think I saw a post you made on one of your other accounts? It had a picture of Faramir and it said 'I think he should be kissed until he is panting and desperate to breath'? Could I please request a /Reader with that? Thank youuu!!
You did see this post, anon! And finally I have delivered, you can find it here <3
Also, there's a lot of Faramir kissing on my ao3 as well.
Written for @gondorweek day 3: rangers of Ithilien. Have umm... have middle earth's version of rpf? Kind of? I just hope people can kind of enjoy.
❝𝐀𝐦 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬?❞ « one-shot »
Pairing: Faramir X male!Reader
Wordcount : 1.6k
TWs: None
Summary: Like everything in Gondor, there are stories about the Stewards. About the heritage, about their petty governance now, about the people. Especially about the people.
You truly aren't sure who started sending these ridiculous stories to the ranger outposts, but almost everyone there enjoys them. A community secret for moral, if you will.
As Anborn comes to relieve you from watch duty, there's a certain joy in his step that immediately makes you suspicious of him. Never mind the fact he should be here, it's how he's turned up. The suspicion must show on your face, because he chuckles for a moment before catching himself, "You can go back inside now, unless the rain and freezing weather is tempting you."
"It's not exactly raining, to be accurate." Light mist coats the air for both of you, but the ranger gear has kept you warm long enough. "What's made you come up like this?"
"Like what?"
The silence starts between the two of you, and he cocks his head in confusion as if trying to evoke the spirit of a baby animal so you'll back off. It doesn't work quite well enough for you to leave, but you break eye-contact for a moment and know that you've lost. Anborn prompts again, "Like what?"
"With unprecedented joy in your step."
"Maybe I've found the childhood love of my life has written me a letter, saying they're waiting desperately for me to get back." A surprising amount of sincerity is input, "Are you joining me for my watch or going back to F-"
You'd already started to move away and back to Henneth Annûn when he got half-way through his speech, although you turn back for a moment to call, "I think it will rain. Horribly."
Even if you can't see him roll his eyes at you, you can feel it as you head back inside to the relative warmth. The movement of enough rangers helps keep it nice, and the stone surrounding you stop the awful breeze. Already you can feel the chill start to leave you, and as you walk further inside you recognise the familiar gathering of people around the table. Messages from Minas Tirith and the other areas have finally come in. Walking forward, you stop next to the table and look at Mablung, "Anything important? Or personal?"
"No news from the White City-" letters shuffle briefly within his hands, "And nothing just for you, either. A little importance, for the general moral."
A short snicker comes from somewhere behind you, you're fairly confident you could identify who it is, and so you let yourself relax a little into the 'important' news. "And?"
"Something from the military was expected to come in, so Faramir looked over the messages. Opened the one addressed to us all, and then disappeared upstairs."
"You..." you can feel your cheeks heat up for a moment - irrationally, you try to remind yourself - before a curse falls from your lips.
It brings out much more laughter from the group, and Mablung's hand goes sympathetically to your shoulder. "We've told him it was definitely your mail, of course."
The laughter is louder, and the cursing is much less subtle this time. Despite it your gaze does start to go up the watchtower to where you know Faramir will be, and wonder for a moment if its worth going up there immediately versus trying to wait down here with everyone else. Damrod makes the decision for you as he gets up and asks, "Can you get it back, if you can? I've been looking forward to the next one."
"Looking forward to it?" You parrot before you can help yourself, an eyebrow raised as more rangers join in the fun. It's the best opportunity you'll have to leave, and so you make a start up the staircase while it's still fashionable enough to laugh at Damrod instead of the general predicament you've all gotten yourselves into. As you can feel yourself getting more flustered the further away you are from the rangers, and the closer you are to your captain, you take a second to breath. To remind yourself that you didn't get everyone into this mess. It was... at this point you're not entirely sure. You just know that it's tradition, and that as of late it's been easier for the rest of the men to raise an eyebrow at you.
Going up to the top, there's one more slow breath before you knock on the door.
"Come in." Faramir's voice is quiet as he calls you inside, and although he looks up to your arrival - smiles at it - his attention falls back to the small scroll in his hands. "How was your watch?"
"Damp and mostly boring." Your response gets a laugh out of him as his eyes skim another few lines, and you stand still for a moment as the door fully closes behind you. Normally, you'd join him in sitting down somewhere in the room and perhaps steal one of the books he's left around the place. For now, your eyes keep staying on the now familiar scroll. "How... far have you gotten in your reading?"
"Almost finished." True to his word, Faramir reads over the final lines before placing it neatly next to his chair. "I am not quite sure how I've never read something by the-" he seems to want to speak, held back by an unknown thing before he chooses to settle, "author."
You can't resist asking the question, "But you've read things like it before?"
"Occasionally." Faramir has relaxed a little more now, and you're aware of his gaze on you as he leans back.
"How did you find it?"
"I believe it is supposed to be titillating." The entirely deadpan delivery of it, followed by the slightly upward curve of his lips, is a little too much for you as you burst into laughter. It's nervous for a moment, and then genuine; becoming even more so as Faramir joins you as well. The observational look in his eyes has, if not completely gone, faded and there's a warm look in his eyes. "I also believe that this would likely be considered unbecoming of soldiers of Gondor to have."
"I think that's a little unfair."
The flash in his eyes returns for a moment, "Then, if I may, I can assume you have read most of these?"
Your cheeks heat up again, and the fluster returns. You should have known that, one day, reading those things would come back to haunt you. That Faramir, who was able to notice if you were feeling off almost as soon as he walked into the room, wouldn't be able to find everything one day. "Not all of them."
"Only scrolls that wrote about a Steward's son, instead of the Steward himself?" Dimly, you realise that Faramir is teasing. "Or were you even more specific in your tastes?"
"I was never the one who read them first." It's a weak protest, and sometime between briefly breaking Faramir's gaze and now he has crossed most of the distance between the two of you. "And I'm not the one who... keeps asking for them to be sent."
"Do you know who it is?" Even now, with Faramir almost having your back to the wall, he still asks it with genuine curiosity.
You lean into his arm for a moment, slowly getting more used to it, "Damrod, I think?"
"Damrod?" He laughs for a moment, and the two of you are so close together you can feel the familiar way his body moves. How he seems to get closer to you subconsciously. And then Faramir refocuses his gaze to you, and as you lean back against the wall for a moment all you have to do is let him kiss you. At first the kisses are just gentle on your mouth, before going further away to your cheek and neck - still feather-light - before returning. Deepening again as you lean into him. Eventually, he draws back a little, "My love."
You kiss him again, "You truly did not know about the scrolls?"
"I knew of them, a vague warning from my tutor about what some women supposedly gossiped about my family."
"Some women?" You draw yourself away a little in mock offense, before Faramir chases you back with another kiss. "Did they warn you about not finding yourself kissing the people who read them up against a wall?"
"Somehow the lesson slips from my mind," he pauses, "Although I hope I am still attentive enough, despite the lack of tutorage."
"Have I ever complained?"
There's a bit of the time where the two of you go silent, simply enjoying each other. Knowing that the other is there for you. Eventually, after patiently waiting for you to end the kiss, Faramir speaks, "Perhaps it is a good thing I have not read many of these works, I fear whatever advice I took from it would not have endeared myself to you."
"What advice do you think you would have taken?" As he thinks on it for a moment, you kiss him again, leaning into him before the two of you somehow flip and it is Faramir waiting against the wall.
"Somehow, an inability to speak to you and simply brood in a corner tends to do me favours." Faramir's eyes flicker to the scroll, "At least in that one. My silent, and completely unresponsive devotion is somehow attractive."
"Maybe that is what drew me to you." You tease, "You staring mournfully at me from across the room."
"I don't stare mournfully." The genuine, if subtle, offence in his voice makes you laugh as you kiss him again.
As he softly opens his mouth to let you. Allowing you to lean forward until the wall blocks him from yielding anymore, and instead both his hands find purchase somewhere on your body. It keeps up for a while longer, until he eventually speaks again. Slightly breathless, "I like to think that I have."
You move your lips from his nape, just enough to ask "That you have?"
"Endeared myself to you."
A/N: First male!reader as well, so hopefully it's decently written? This is rather self-indulgent, but oh well. It's lovely to see how Gondor week is turning out!
Yello, I'm the anon that asked for the infertility ficlet - and I'm just here to say you executed my request beautifully. You did the insecurity and the overthinking very well, and it comforted me a lot to hear one of my favourite characters speak about it.
I applaud you on this, and thank you so much for writing my request 🙇
Thank you so, so much for sending me this anon and re-reaching back out! I'm so glad that it could be enjoyable and comforting for you. And that it actually wrote it well.
Thank you again for your formatting, and just being a pleasure to have in the ask box <3
Ik ur only open for ficlets atm, so I was wondering if I could request this:
Aragorn seems like the kind of person to really want kids obviously, and so I was wondering how he would go about understanding/accepting being with an infertile!reader? Doesn't have to be anything specific or graphic obv but just vaguely can't have children lmfao?
I checked ur rules but if this, for whatever reason, doesn't follow them feel free to shout at me 💯
Hi anon, this is absolutely within my rules and you cannot know how happy I was when I saw your last line. My dear, for doing this I could never shout out at you - thank you for your request. Also, and I hope you don't mind, this is my fic for day one of @gondorweek.
This work is partially written in italics, which are used to signify flashbacks.
For the brief heads-ups about the fic a) I haven't personally dealt with infertility, although I did some reading on the topic for this
b) There's no in-depth discussion of the infertility itself, it is just a vague 'I cannot have children'
c) In regards to the reader's gender, you didn't specify to there are no gendered terms used anywhere in the fic
❝𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧❞ « one-shot »
Pairing: Aragorn X Reader
Wordcount : 1.4k
TWs: Infertility, insecurity stemming from it
You're still not entirely sure how you and Aragorn were able to come into each other's lives. Or, really, that the two of you were able to stay in each other's lives. How his visits in the town of Bree had once been rare enough people would start to doubt he'd ever come back, to reliable enough that it was barely the fifth mention in order of gossip. You still smile at the knowledge that most of that is due to you.
"I thought we'd had our monthly visit from the ranger already." You call out to Strider's approaching form, rewarded with him looking at you as a smile appears on his face.
It's unapologetic rather than sheepish as he stops next to you, "Perhaps I miss Bree."
"Miss Bree?" Your eyes flicker around the town quickly, "I do actually pay attention when you tell me stories of your travels, Strider."
His hands reach for yours, "Then perhaps I miss the people."
"The people?"
"A gentle kiss is given to you, before Strider corrects himself, "A person."
It is still odd, calling him Aragorn instead of Strider when you've learnt the latter for so long. When he had told you, you'd been confused as to why it was even something to keep secret. It was still a fact that you'd keep quiet about it for him, however. Taking a moment to reassure him that the knowledge would not pass your lips to anyone else, unless he wanted it too. Then you had thanked him for telling you.
Strider had looked a little pained for a moment at that, before the emotion was replaced by something you couldn't quite recognise and the conversation shifted to other things. When Aragorn had set off, he had told you when we'd be back - promised you he would try his best not to be delayed.
"Aragorn." The words sound vaguely lyrical on your lips, and as you sound the word out for the first time you're aware of how Aragorn stares at them. If only for a moment. "It is a beautiful name."
"I will take no offence if Strider sounds less foreign to you."
"Except, perhaps, that I want to call you by the right name," you say, before a thought occurs, "Provided I am saying it correctly."
"You are." Strider- Aragorn gives you a reassuring smile, and then asks for updates within Bree while he has been away. Listening just as intently as you do to him, as if this town could give a story to match his travels. Throughout the night he gets better at hiding it, but you still notice Aragorn's lips curl into a smile whenever you call him by his name.
When the day of his stated return comes, the first thing you do after waking yourself up is briefly stare out of the window. Squint as if you could see his figure walking down the road from far away. It's a gesture that you continue to repeat, for a little while, before you see Aragorn's figure on the outskirts of Bree. And so you go to him.
When the two of you are finally in distance with each other, Aragorn kisses you like always. But despite the fact there's nothing obviously different, you can tell something has happened on his journey. That something has affected the way the two of you are talking to each other - although it does not seem to have diminished the love in his eyes. "I wish to speak privately, once we have caught up... If you would be willing?"
Your house is not too far away, and your eyes flicker to it, "We can talk now, if you need to."
"It is not that urgent of a message." A small smile comes onto his face, and he shakes his head as if trying to dispel some last dark thought in order to properly spend time with you. "Now, what was the latest information I shared with you about the missing archery stand?"
The conversation has shifted far lighter, although seriousness still skirts the edges of your conversation. Hovers ever closer as the two of you make it inside your house, the place Aragorn now knows well enough to get cups and start a fire for tea before you even have to do anything. As the flame bursts into life, the shadow it throws up on the wall seems to be darker than ever and Aragorn takes a steadying breath. Sitting next to him, you place your hand on his, "You don't have to talk about it now. Stay the night instead, then-"
"It is a truth you deserve to know." His interruption is not harsh, but instead resigned. Aragorn's hand still holds onto yours for comfort.
It's been a little over a week since you discovered exactly why Aragorn doesn't spar with the sword he carries around, although a week is not nearly a long enough time for you to stop teasing him about it. The most competent man you know, the one who routinely goes off into the wilderness for months at a time, carries around a sword that is entirely broken. The presence of a second, more concealable, dagger alleviates your worries about him - but doesn't excuse him from being made fun of. Because why on earth does he choose to keep carrying it?
"All this does is make it more appealing to steal your cloak, you know."
Aragorn laughs, head tilted in thought for a moment as he stares at you before asking, "Why?"
"Because how are you going to get it back off me?" You run at teasing finger down his side, stopping at the sword's pommel, "Hold me at broken-edge point?"
"Perhaps." There's a sudden flurry of movement, and in-between laughter and kisses you find yourself in Aragorn's arms, "Although I cannot see many reasons to take my cloak back off you. I think you look beautiful in it."
Even with his hand still holding yours, you can't help but wonder if this is the furthest apart you and Aragorn have been. You are just a villager from Bree, and Aragorn is a king- a king. The time you have just spent together, the simple domesticity of it, plays in your mind again as your chest tightens and you realise that this should be the last time you can do this with him. He has a legacy. His secret is one deserving to be kept this deep into a relationship, while yours.
"My love?" Aragorn's voice tries to pull you out of your thoughts, the gentle circles his thumb rubs into your palm helping more. "You are still just as worthy of me - just as perfect for me - as you were before I told you this. As you were when we first met."
"It's not-" You still cannot help smiling at him, "You are not the problem, Aragorn. I- I cannot have children."
The silence seems deafening once the words are said, although Aragorn's hand remains on you. Keeps holding on, applying a little pressure when you briefly ease your hand away. Not enough to stop you, but enough to make you know that you are still wanted. Needed. "Very well."
"I-" For some reason, the simplicity of his response - as if you've told him you want the tea later instead of the fact you cannot support his dynasty - stuns you into silence. Stuns you enough that your heart rate slows for a second. "Very well?"
"It is my secret, or rather what I have shared, that is a worthy cause for separation." Aragorn pauses, "So it is your decision that I await, mine has been made long ago."
"But... your kingship. Your families." You swallow, then go to the root, "Children. Children with your blood."
"I, have thought of having children." Aragorn hesitates, and you can see countless different sentences run through his mind; trying to tie words together that best convey what he actually thinks and his love to you. "But they are only a passing thing. What is always constant when I imagine my future is that I can spend it with you.
"That when I wake up in the mornings it is you that I can reach for, and that you will be there when I shut my eyes as well. It is the two of us together, happy with each other, that I dream of when I can get the chance. Because it is you who I am in love with, not some vague concept compared to the wonder of your being."
A/N: Not sure how I feel about the flashbacks, but hopefully they were enjoyable. And welcome to Gondor week everyone - I have a post for each day but they'll alternate on which account I'm posting on. Also, if you're only seeing Gondor Week now, feel free to join in anyway! You can create as big or small thing as you like, and participate in one or all days.
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗
Aw thank you anon! I just got one that I've answered here, although that one was specifically about my reader-insert works. I actually also write character x character works over on ao3, so I guess I'll self-rec those? They don't get enough love on this page.
Mostly (aside from no.1) in no particular order
Storge: currently my magnum opus, if I may say so. That being said it is an incredibly angsty, platonic hanahaki fic that centres around Faramir and Denethor's relationship. So. Readers beware.
(Don't) Notice Me: is platonic Aragorn & Faramir, based on a headcanon of Faramir having chronic pain due to the pyre.
Summer Loving: to contrast with the gloom, my modern au Game of Thrones fic (Braime). The only time I've ever tried my hand at romantic comedy.
The End of All Things: going back to emotional hurt. It's a Boromir POV of the days before Finduilas's death and her funeral.
Pull me together: rarest Faramir pair (one fic, this one) mixed with Faramir-Beregond friendship, and (of course) hurt/comfort. Faramir's first few days after the pyre.
Thanks again for the ask, and for letting me share my character works on this tumblr! I do also write happy character-only works as well, for Tolkien fans looking at my list and wondering why I only seem to be torturing everyone.
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗
(Can I ask for your fav headcanons tho 👀)
Ah thank you so much!! You may indeed ask that 💗
In no particular order, and without further ado
Humans of Tolkien (& Frodo) with a scarred/often injured reader I'm a massive hurt/comfort fan, and I think I did quite well with these.
You're seriously injured Are these technically headcanons? I think they're scenarios, but again hurt/comfort I enjoy that don't really need to be read 'in series'.
Elves with a very affectionate reader is, I think, my most popular one - but I do enjoy it! It was fun to play with rarer characters as well.
Fellowship letting you take care of them wow. more hurt/comfort. I'm sure everyone is so surprised.
Fellowship seeing the reader as a younger sibling one of my few platonic works, but I am very fond of it - and of Tolkien's world being platonic as a whole!
Hope one of these is to someone's tastes! I would absolutely send you one back, although someone's beaten me to it <3
Can elves get colds? And if so, could you please do a scenario or headcanons of Legolas with a cold with fem!reader who likes being a caretaker?
Hi anon! I imagine elves can feel cold, even if it's to a far lesser extent that mortals. Reader isn't explicitly fem, but that's because it never came up - not because I actively tried for gender-neutral.
❝𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫❞ « ficlet »
Pairing: Legolas X GN!Reader
Wordcount: 0.5k | TWs: None
Legolas did not find the sun, fully, after his attempt too. You can tell it's weighing on him, although the closer you look you realise that something else is wrong too. He's shivering, if only a little.
It shouldn't surprise you - everyone else in the Fellowship is freezing thanks to Caradhras - except Legolas is an elf. Elves aren't supposed to... to get cold. Yet another miserable quirk of this miserable mountain, you decide.
"Legolas," you call, albeit quietly, "Come further inside."
"There is no need." He's turned somewhat towards you, but you cannot fully see his face, "Room inside the cave is precious, and I am an elf. We do not get cold as easily as mortals do."
"Well-" you gesture to the space beside you, "There's a little room yet, come and join me."
Legolas hesitates again, and you realise that it is because he doesn't want you to see him close up. Doesn't want you to see him as anything less than perfect. For a moment you're stuck, before an idea comes to you. If your cheeks weren't already warm due to the cold, they would be now. But if you're begrudging Legolas for his pride, you cannot be too hypocritical, "What if I am cold?"
Concern shows in his eyes, although there's also confusion. Trying not to sigh, you speak again, "Come and join me, I... I could use your warmth."
The red that's already on his face gets even darker, but Legolas obliges to shuffle closer to you. He stops a little distance away, and you gesture to the floor next to you again before wondering if you can lightly hit him when he gets closer again. The thought disappears when he finally moves to your side, and you can feel him against you. Sitting incredibly rigid as not to accidentally lean into you.
He's also very cold.
You consider murmuring to him that he can relax, asking him if he is too cold and hoping he will be honest, when the simplest path comes to you. Instead of waiting for Legolas, you try to let yourself relax and lean into his shoulder.
Seemingly without thinking his body leans into you - you're not sure if he's craving the heat or... something else. Once he's comfortable, you can feel Legolas begin to tense again as if he has suddenly realised what he's doing. Before he can move, you lay a hand over his leg and whisper, "Stay."
The word is quiet, but Legolas nods into your chest anyway and keeps still while the tension leaves his body again. Staying like this, you can slowly feel him beginning to warm up again (even if the redness of his cheeks doesn't change).
Eventually, Legolas moves slightly to turn his head towards you, "Why did you ask me to your side?"
"Because-" Even though you and him are half draped over each other, you still suddenly feel embarrassed. "Because you were cold."
He hums in agreement briefly, then his eyes find yours again and you see his grin, "Was that the only reason?"
A/N: Also, I managed to spell Caradhras right WITHOUT needing to look it up. So. Go me.
This is an event that will be running from the 27th of April to the 3rd of May, in honour of Aragorn being coronated on the 1st. Bring absolutely anything (fics, gifs, meta, etc) to this event - as long as it's related in some way to Gondor, or Gondor's many characters.
Here's the basic rules.
Prompts:
The Line of Kings, Minas Tirith, "It has come to me, the One Ring. It shall be an heirloom of my people." (Further inspo)
The Line of Stewards, Artifacts, "fealty with love, valour with honour, oathbreaking with vengeance" (Further inspo)
The Rangers of Ithilien, Nature, "By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe!" (Further inspo)
Osgiliath, Grief and Conflict, "I love only that which they defend." (Further inspo)
Dol Amroth, Cultural Differences, "the great stone city, vaster and more splendid than anything he had dreamed of" (Further inspo)
Minor characters, Tradition, "But there are no travellers in this land: only the servants of the Dark Tower, or of the White." (Further inspo)
Fourth Age, Gondor's past, "I would have her loved for her memory, her ancientry, her beauty, and her present wisdom." (Further inspo)
Participate in as many - or as few - days as you would like! This has been reposted so people newly stumbling upon this can actually reblog it.
so, uh, I'm running this thing and realised I'm doing a poor job promoting it. So, to all the people who only know me for this blog, come join the event! Anything Gondor-y is allowed and I'd love to have you, for as many or as few days as you want ❤️
Hi there! I was wondering, could I request a (romantic) ficlet for Pippin with a fem hobbit reader? I've been looking through your prompts, and the "Look at me, I've got you" one seems perfect for a sweet little comfort moment! I don't know if you need any further context, but maybe reader is part of the fellowship and is very much scared so Pippin reminds her that he's there and won't let anything bad happen to her. Thank you for considering!
Thank you for being so charming with your request, it was a pleasure to write and I hope you enjoy it! For once, I've actually written into the fic that the reader is fem - even if it's only with pronoun mentions.
❝𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞ « ficlet »
Pairing: Pippin X fem hobbit!Reader
Wordcount: 0.4k | TWs: None
It's been a decent enough while since Isengard has truly fallen, and the three of you have been able to relax and not worry about imminent danger and death. Or about Saruman. It's probably the most at ease Pippin has felt in weeks, even with water going past his ankles and the still smouldering remains of various things in the distance. For most of the basking in victory, you've all left each other alone to contemplate. To occasionally give pleased glances at each other. Except, as Pippin moves to catch your eye, he realises that you aren't there.
Twisting his head around, Pippin scans around for you before calling your name. "Merry, have you seen her?"
"No, at least I don't think so," Merry pauses to consider it, "She's probably inside somewhere - the apples ran out a while ago."
"Perhaps." You being inside seems the most likely prospect, considering your other option of location is a large puddle, and so Pippin begins to wade towards the tower again. It doesn't take him too long to come inside, occasionally calling out your name as he goes. Once he's inside Pippin is quick to spot you as well - sitting next to some of the food and tapping a rhythm on the surface of the table.
Upon him calling your name you look up, and then he continues, "Are you okay?"
"I'm well." Your response is too quick to be correct, "We... we won, did we not?"
"We did." Pippin tries to both speed through the water to you and avoid splashing you, creating some kind of awkward side-step, "But you can have won and not be okay."
His hand reaches yours as he finds a place to sit next to you; for a little while neither of you say anything, his thumb simply rubbing back and forth across the palm of your hand. Eventually, you speak, "It just. It feels so insignificant, even to have won this. That in a few days time the Enemy will storm this place instead of us- and- and we'll end up-"
"Do you think Treebeard and the ents would let that happen?" Pippin's interruption is gentle but firm, "Or that I would? Or that Merry would? Or that, failing all of it, the three of us could just sneak off together?"
"Do you think we could actually do that?"
Pippin's answer is honest, "We have so far, haven't we? Looked after each other."
Feeling you tense a little, Pippin pulls you into a hug and lets you rest on his shoulder. "I've got you, from now until the end."
A/N: Hope people enjoyed! I'm always a sucker for writing comfort, and Pippin is probably my favourite hobbit to write - even if they're all a little intimidating.
In accordance with finally having a fem!reader fic, one of my next fics actually has male!reader in it for @gondorweek so, fun fun. Maybe see some of you at the event? (full disclosure I am running it, please come play with dolls with me <3)
Yes, hello, I'd like to order a ficlet or scenario with different LOTR characters (such as Aragorn, Legolas, Sam, Boromir, Faramir, possibly Thranduil and Frodo if you have time) and a reader who has to take several prescription meds each morning (perhaps for mental health or an unspecified health condition), and how the various characters would act upon seeing this happen for the first time, expressing concern about whether reader is ok, and are they sure they shouldn't be worried?
And could I get the side of fries with that? 😜😄
Thanks! 😊
Hi! Thank you so much for requesting something, and I must confess that prompt is right up my alley. However, what you're describing (the multiple characters) makes it a headcanon request for me, and unfortunately I'm not accepting those right now. If you want to narrow it down to a single character and have it be a ficlet I'd be happy to take the order.
Hi! To the person who just completed my taglist, your username @Pookiefangirl101, isn't showing up for me an actual user? I'm assuming there's a typo so if you could message me or re-fill the form I can sort it out <3
Can elves get colds? And if so, could you please do a scenario or headcanons of Legolas with a cold with fem!reader who likes being a caretaker?
Hi anon! I imagine elves can feel cold, even if it's to a far lesser extent that mortals. Reader isn't explicitly fem, but that's because it never came up - not because I actively tried for gender-neutral.
❝𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫❞ « ficlet »
Pairing: Legolas X GN!Reader
Wordcount: 0.5k | TWs: None
Legolas did not find the sun, fully, after his attempt too. You can tell it's weighing on him, although the closer you look you realise that something else is wrong too. He's shivering, if only a little.
It shouldn't surprise you - everyone else in the Fellowship is freezing thanks to Caradhras - except Legolas is an elf. Elves aren't supposed to... to get cold. Yet another miserable quirk of this miserable mountain, you decide.
"Legolas," you call, albeit quietly, "Come further inside."
"There is no need." He's turned somewhat towards you, but you cannot fully see his face, "Room inside the cave is precious, and I am an elf. We do not get cold as easily as mortals do."
"Well-" you gesture to the space beside you, "There's a little room yet, come and join me."
Legolas hesitates again, and you realise that it is because he doesn't want you to see him close up. Doesn't want you to see him as anything less than perfect. For a moment you're stuck, before an idea comes to you. If your cheeks weren't already warm due to the cold, they would be now. But if you're begrudging Legolas for his pride, you cannot be too hypocritical, "What if I am cold?"
Concern shows in his eyes, although there's also confusion. Trying not to sigh, you speak again, "Come and join me, I... I could use your warmth."
The red that's already on his face gets even darker, but Legolas obliges to shuffle closer to you. He stops a little distance away, and you gesture to the floor next to you again before wondering if you can lightly hit him when he gets closer again. The thought disappears when he finally moves to your side, and you can feel him against you. Sitting incredibly rigid as not to accidentally lean into you.
He's also very cold.
You consider murmuring to him that he can relax, asking him if he is too cold and hoping he will be honest, when the simplest path comes to you. Instead of waiting for Legolas, you try to let yourself relax and lean into his shoulder.
Seemingly without thinking his body leans into you - you're not sure if he's craving the heat or... something else. Once he's comfortable, you can feel Legolas begin to tense again as if he has suddenly realised what he's doing. Before he can move, you lay a hand over his leg and whisper, "Stay."
The word is quiet, but Legolas nods into your chest anyway and keeps still while the tension leaves his body again. Staying like this, you can slowly feel him beginning to warm up again (even if the redness of his cheeks doesn't change).
Eventually, Legolas moves slightly to turn his head towards you, "Why did you ask me to your side?"
"Because-" Even though you and him are half draped over each other, you still suddenly feel embarrassed. "Because you were cold."
He hums in agreement briefly, then his eyes find yours again and you see his grin, "Was that the only reason?"
A/N: Also, I managed to spell Caradhras right WITHOUT needing to look it up. So. Go me.
I could really use the comfort of, and am very curious about, a ficlet of Aragorn or Faramir comforting the reader after they get home from a long day? Thank you so much ❤️
Ask and thou shall receive! I chose to write Aragorn because I see you've discovered my recent Faramir fics ❤️
❝𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞❞ « ficlet »
Pairing: Aragorn X GN!Reader
Wordcount: 0.6k | TWs: None
Coming home, you've hardly stepped foot inside your chambers when you hear his voice. "I was beginning to think something had happened to you."
No matter how many times you'll hear him, no matter how obvious he is now that he's spoken to you, you still jump a little as Aragorn's voice seems to speak out of the darkness. Closing the door behind you, you give him a tired smile, "Must you always attempt to make no noise and frighten me to death?"
"I had no such intention," his voice is quiet as he protests, although you can hear his footsteps now as he crosses the room to join you, "And I did not attempt to make no noise."
It is a habit he struggles to switch off, even as king, "Are you sure?"
"I take care not too when you come home in the darkness." A gentle kiss is placed on your forehead, "If I may be so bold, I suggest that you are tired."
There's enough in you to fake a scandalised gasp, and you are rewarded by Aragorn laughing as the two of you walk further inside. There's a fire burning in the corner of the room, and over it is a little tea left. Leaving you to take off your outside layers, Aragorn goes to the fire and pours some of the liquid into a cup, "Do you want some, or would you prefer to wait a little while?"
You can smell something slightly floral, "What is it?"
"Tea, mainly, with a little athelas." At your hum of approval, Aragorn presses the first cup into your hands and pours another one for himself.
For a little longer there is a gentle quietness between the two of you and the fire, only listening to its ambient noise as another log is broken down. The steady presence not of words but of Aragorn's gaze on you, taking its time to trace your body and somehow see what is stiff - but never lingering too long to feel intrusive. Eventually enough of you is back to speak, "Thank you for the tea. I think I can feel the headache starting to ease."
"I believe that will be the kiss." Aragorn says it so quickly you know he's been waiting for you to make some sort of comment, even if it does make you smile.
"The kiss?" You only need to shuffle a little to move into him, and it takes far too much effort to not immediately lean onto the man. Instead you turn your face to him, long enough for him to come close and give you a true kiss this time. He is still gentle against your lips, and even when he withdraws his own the rest of him moves close enough that you truly can lie down. An arm wraps around you as quickly as you do, hugging you closer. Now that the silence is broken you speak about nothing in particular, mainly the fire and the fact it seems less bitterly cold in Minas Tirith now. That Aragorn swears he sees the sun sooner each day, and that its mood is affecting even the councillors now. Work as an issue is only skirted around, devoted to him giving a disapproving hum as you briefly share a few details.
Eventually, the thought dawns on you to ask, "What did you think had happened to me with my delay?"
A touch of humour enters his voice, "You had stumbled upon something terrible."
"Mm?"
"Another stack of paperwork, perhaps."
A/N: Recently reached 50 people on my taglist?? So, might share some stats at one point. The one time I enjoy maths (ofc not saying who is tagged for what)
