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katwriteswitcherthings · 2 years

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Title: Vi Moxt Miirik (Chapter Twelve - Also on AO3)

Prompt: Wuv WHUMP: Flower Crowns

Pairing: Geralt & Jaskier

Rating: T

Warnings: None

The resolution to The Mountain. You know how a lot of my whumpy chapters haven't really been, ya know, whumpy? ...yeah... I make up for that here. It gets sad.

Summary:

Our favorite lovable Bard is a little more than he let's Geralt know. Follow them through the years as he learns to let down his walls and show Geralt how beautiful he really is.

Chapter Twelve

Geralt awoke with a start. He was curled up on his bedroll next to Jaskier's. He stared blearily at Jaskier's back as he tried to process what was wrong. He remembered drinking with the dwarves late into the night. He remembered the offered alcohol being really strong. He remembered cuddling with Jaskier.

"Where the fuck are those dwarves?" Yennefer yelled as she excited her tent. Geralt sat bolt upright and looked around. The campsite had been abandoned; it was just Yenn, him, and Jaskier still curled up asleep on the bedroll next to him.

There was no time. Yennefer started running down the path. Geralt shoved Jaskier's shoulder roughly as he sprang up, desperately pulling his armor and swords on.

"Hm? Whazzat?" Jaskier sat up and looked sleepily at Geralt.

"Dwarves left. Yenn left." Geralt grunted quickly before he started running.

"I thought we were leaving?" Jaskier was yelling as he stood. Geralt turned for just a moment.

"I have to stop them." He called back, and hoped that Jaskier understood.

Yennefer froze the dwarves near the top of the mountain and Geralt caught up to her at the entrance of the cave. There was the green dragon, dead, curled protectively around her egg.

Because of course she was protecting her egg. Tea and Vea were impossibly there, wielding their swords expertly. And then… Borch. A fucking golden dragon, and apparently the father of the wrymling in the egg. Because of course he fucking was.

Boholt and the Reavers finally showed their faces, and as Yenn and Geralt fought them to protect the egg, the only thought that Geralt had was to thank all the gods above that Jaskier wasn't here. There would have been no way Geralt could protect him as well as deal with the Reavers.

Jaskier yawned a little as he walked up the path alone. There was only one, and he knew Geralt had headed off this way, so hopefully he wouldn't get lost. He smiled as he remembered the night before, even if the dwarves had had an alternative reason to get him and Geralt very very drunk. It was so nice to fall asleep cuddled up to his Witcher.

"Oh!" Jaskier exclaimed, seeing a small field of flowers growing a little ways off the path. It was unusual to see flowers this high up. Maybe the dragon had planted them? If this was near a den, it only made sense to make it beautiful.

White camellias waved in the breezes, beautiful and delicate, and Jaskier picked a handful before moving on down the path. If he remembered correctly, they were a symbol of love and affection, though he couldn't quite remember in which culture.

Just a little further found him stumbling across bright yellow peonies. Those would make an excellent addition to his little bouquet. The promise of new beginnings. It would be fitting; a gift of love at the start of their new relationship.

"Are we queuing for something, gents?" Jaskier asked as he stumbled upon Yarpin and his crew. They were frozen in place, though he could see them starting to twitch and wiggle. The enchantment from Yennefer would be wearing off soon, no doubt.

Jaskier looked at the flowers in his hands and decided to make them into a crown as he kept walking. It was easy enough for him to do absently; he and his sisters made them all the time when they were growing up it became second nature.

After the Reavers were finally dead, with Yennefer getting to finish off Boholt as promised, the dwarves and Jaskier showed up. Borch, back in his human guise, offered up his lady's teeth and a very real threat in exchange for them leaving right then.

"This is it. My final adventure." Borch said as he sat down on a large rock next to Geralt outside his den.

"A child?" Geralt asked, skeptically.

"Everyone wants a legacy." Borch said with a soft smile. Yennefer stepped up to him and held her sword to his throat, her face perfectly schooled neutrality.

"I should kill you." She forced out. "That's why I came all this fucking way. I need ingredients." And something in that clicked in Geralt's mind. The things they had never talked about when they had been together. The research she was always doing.

"Yenn. Don't tell me you believe the rumors about fresh dragon hearts being a magic cure-all." Geralt asked, voice not quite soft but not judgemental either.

"You know nothing, Witcher." She spat, not taking her eyes off Borch. He was still sitting there, calm as you please. "I've done the research. It is possible."

"I thought mages couldn't get sick." Jaskier piped up from somewhere off behind Geralt.

"We are cured of all ailments during our Ascension for the cost of others, bard." Yennefer spat again, venom lacing her voice. "I want my choice back." Borch just sighed and pushed Yennefer's blade away with a gentle hand.

"I am going to save you three a lot of hurt later by giving you a little now." Borch spoke with a command in his voice that Geralt had never heard before. "Yennefer, you will never regain your womb. Jaskier, you will never find your happiness until you stop pretending to be something you are not. Geralt, though you have fought valiantly, you will lose both the people you want the most." Borch eyed Yennefer for a moment before he smiled, just a little. "I can see why you would try, though."

Nobody moved for several long tense minutes before Yennefer turned toward him, questions and fury written all over her face.

"The djinn. I made a wish." Geralt finally said. It wasn't the words he wanted; there was more nuance to it than that. But his throat had tightened up, making more words impossible.

"Is that why?" Yennefer asked, taking one step toward Geralt. "Why I feel so strongly for you? Why we can never escape each other? It's all just magic. It was never real." She sounded so broken, it twisted something inside of Geralt around until he thought he was going to be sick. He took a step forward, hand coming up to reach for her, but she turned away from him. Fury radiated off her in waves, and Geralt was too much a coward to stop her. To actually explain.

He let her leave.

She didn't look back.

Geralt's heart had been shattered and mended too many times before.

He was so tired of trying. Something moved in the corner of his eye, a bright flash of red. Geralt let himself snarl as he turned. There stood Jaskier, holding a ridiculous crown of yellow and white flowers, a look of pity and hurt clear on his face.

"Go on then." Geralt spat at him. "Walk away, too." Jaskier just shook his head sadly.

"Unlike Yennefer, darling, I know what a djinn's magic can and cannot do." He spoke with such surety, it brought all those little incongruities Geralt had observed for years right to the forefront of his mind. "You might have bound us all together, but the emotions are all ours. She'll figure it out soon enough and come back, like always."

"How can you stand there and act like this is okay?" Geralt asked, knowing that he could not do this another time. He would not survive Jaskier leaving him too. Not after everything.

"I accepted a long time ago that my heart is a fool and I can neither control its choices nor the choices of others. I am here if you still want me. I'll be here even if you don't." Jaskier was calm, his voice soothing against the hurt Geralt was trying to drown in his mind. How could he be so calm?

And then Borch's words to Jaskier echoed across his mind.

Geralt was done with everything.

He was hurting. He was tired. And he was backed into a corner.

So he did the only thing he knew to do in this situation.

"And lie to me, the whole time doing it?" Geralt roared out in anger, making Jaskier flinch back. Where did that even come from?

"I... That's not fair. I can't." Jaskier was at a startling loss. He thought... Jaskier could feel the tears building in his eyes but he ignored it.

"And why not?" Geralt growled, voice dipping low in anger.

"... I can't..." Jaskier ground out, never hating his heritage and upbringing more than in this moment. How he longed to tell Geralt. For years and years, he's wanted to. But Mother... If Jaskier did and it was for anything other than life and death stakes...

Jaskier would never be able to go home again.

"...I want to... Have wanted to for years! You have to understand, Geralt..."

"Enough!" Geralt roared at him, turning his back on the bard. Jaskier stumbled back slightly as though he'd been slapped. He couldn't help it.

"Right. Uh... Right, then." Jaskier swallowed the lump in his throat. He looked down at the unfinished flower crown in his hands. "I'll... See you around, Geralt."

He'd already had to watch Geralt turn away from him once and run to Yennefer.

He couldn't do it again.

He put the crown down on one of the rocks, and turned on his heels. He followed after the dwarves, uncaring as his tears flowed down his cheeks.

Geralt stood there on that mountain top for hours. He did not cry.

He stared at the flower crown Jaskier had been making. It was laying atop one of the large rocks next to him.

It had unraveled somewhat, white and yellow blossoms spilling onto the ground as the winds blew.

They were cold.

Geralt was cold.

It would be winter soon.

#what about the bard #wuv the bard #whump the bard #jaskier whump #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier #The Mountain(TM)#geralt cant communicate #non human!jaskier #my fanfic

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artistsfuneral · 3 years

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Inktober Prompt One - Ghost

modern au, modern magic, necromancer!Jaskier, first meeting, possible geraskier, tw for: pet death (but looked at it from a good perspective)

The doors of the train closed with a monotone beep and Jaskier let himself fall against the cold walls. Not able to contain the exhausted sigh that bubbled up his throat, he stabbed the straw into his juice box and drained the whole thing in one go.

It only took a single glance at his reflection to see that his outer appearance matched the heaviness in his chest and the pounding headache that knocked against his temples like a wrecking ball knocked holes into buildings. He looked like shit and felt like it too.

But it was worth it.

Despite being one of the weakest necromancers in his family line, Jaskier still enjoyed his work and wore his magic-field-identifying uniform with pride.

His parents and sisters were magnificent in their respective discipline. His mother and oldest sister being able to communicate with ghosts, human or not, that lived centuries ago, his father and younger sister powerful enough to create long lasting spells that enabled others to see and interact with the ghosts around them.

Jaskier instead, only had the ability to see the ghosts of well loved pets, who's spirits were strong and loyal enough to follow their former companions even in the afterlife. And while he had no problem seeing and interacting with them on his own, his job contained to make their ghostly forms visible, touchable for a few more hours, so that their owners could interact with them once more. He was good at it, obviously, but it always cost him a lot of energy and left him drained at the end.

The necromancer had just completed a contract for a wealthy man and his daughter, who's pet bunny had died a few weeks ago. Thanks to Jaskier, the girl that had been completely devastated, was able to spend a whole day with her bunny (Jaskier might have pushed himself a bit too much, but it had been worth it). He had left the two with a hefty sum on his bank account, a smiling girl and the promise that her bunny loved her very much and would be with her for a long, long time.

It was exactly for this reason, why he loved his work so much. Yes, he got payed for it, but that wasn't the main cause why he did it. It was the huge amount of people (many of them children) that he was helping with his magic, that made what he did worthwhile.

Taking off the jacket of his uniform, he stuffed it and the empty juice box into his backpack and let out a jaw cracking yawn that he hid behind his free hand. Finally feeling a bit better, he took his time to assess the people on the train. To his surprise he found the cart rather empty. A couple of students sat in the far back, chattering loudly and showing each other things on their phones, one of them had a ghost cat sitting on his backpack, idly dozing in the flickering evening sun. A mother and two small children occupied a four seater, grocery bags wedged between their feet. The elf woman caught his eyes and Jaskier silently greeted her with a respectful nod. She smiled and went back to talking with her children.

Closest to him sat an old dwarf who, to Jaskier's astonishment, had not only a tiny (living) puppy sitting in his lap, but was surrounded by four other ghost dogs that were happily playing with each other. Dwarves, who took pride in still being known for their rough demeanor, weren't usually this pet friendly. But the ghosts were clearly visible to Jaskier's eyes, barely translucent and bright enough to show how strong their bond with the old dwarf must have been. Jaskier couldn't help but grin. The dwarf, now looking directly at him, noticed it too and was about to open his mouth and probably send a rather ugly remark his way, when he noticed Jaskier's clothes.

While it wasn't necessary, the good thing about wearing his MFI uniform was that he could stare as much as he wanted. People would see his classification as a tier five magic user and usually leave him alone. As did the dwarf, who grumbled something into his beard, but looked away without really voicing his complains.

When Jaskier turned around to inspect the other part of the train cart, he suddenly found the reason why it was this empty despite it being a time, where most people went off work.

Behind him, in the middle of the cart, stood a bloodied witcher.

It wasn't that he'd never seen a witcher before; even though they were rather rare nowadays, it came with Jaskier's profession to bump into them from time to time. And still, Jaskier stared at the man with wide eyes. His hair, ash white, was shaved on both sides of his head and pulled into a thick, but messy bun that was streaked with blood. He wore an all black variant of the kaedweni military uniform, that had seen better days and two swords, a crossbow and a heavy duffel back were strapped across his back. The man himself was absolutely terrifying to look at and the blood on his clothes and in his hair wasn't helping at all. Though, the mesmerizingly weird thing about the witcher were his companions.

Having caught his open gawking, the white haired snarled at him with his fangs bared and snapped, “What the fuck are you staring at?” Jaskier opened his mouth and closed it again. Yet, he didn't stop staring into the witcher's direction.

“I uh- I've just never seen so many horses in a train before.”

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prompter: me

tag list: @ravenclaw-dirt @whitetyger123 @ouiouilegay @amethystpagan @raiwalk @endrega23 @etcorsolus @halfbloodprincez @supermutantprince @kuripon @hailhailsatan

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #nikkisinktober #the witcher au #jaskier #necromancer!jaskier #necromancer #tw animal death #geralt #witcher #geralt of rivia #the witcher fanfiction #inktober2021 #inktober alternative

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youareunbearable · 3 years

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I've been thinking, but what if Beren knew Meadhros before the Dagor Bragollach and the Silmaril quest went down

Sure his father was sworn friends with Finrod, but Meadhros was the Watcher of the North, he probably had worked and fought alongside Beren’s father, Barahir of Dorthonion, Lord of Ladros and Chieftain of the house of Beor. Maedhros worked alongside a lot of men, and he was smart and likeable and a strong general, so he probably kept good relations with the Men that lived nearby that would be willing to lend willing swords to help him protect the March.

He maybe even was a guest to Barahir’s wedding, he maybe even sent a gift at the birth of his son. Beren fell in love with an Elf, and that love must have come from somewhere. As a child he must have visited Maedhros’ kept in Himring for a summer celebration that his family was invited to. He had never seen so many Elves before, and they were as beautiful as they were strange. There was one Elf, tall with dark hair, who could sing Songs so beautiful Beren felt as if he could reach out and wrap the sound around him like the world’s loveliest cocoon.

Even the Lord of Himring, the tall being with survival scars and glowing eyes and hair like living fire, looked gorgeous when he laughed. Apparently the singer he just complimented was his younger brother Maglor, and not in fact a beautiful maid. No one seemed to mind his blunder, and Maglor gave him a warm smile and a head pat so all was water under the bridge.

(Years later, Maedhros would continue to tease Maglor that his beauty and voice must be second to Luthien, if his young lover was able to forget him upon seeing her. Maglor just sniffs)

When the Dagor Bragollach happened, many of Beren’s people fled to Maedhros’ fort, and Maedhros kept them safe. When things calm slightly, he might even send out a search party for the missing Chieftain and his son. The scouts return months later with a sobbing Beren and the Ring of Barahir. Instead of letting the man wallow in his grief alone in the wilds, Maedhros would help him, help him be the leader his people need, help him take his grief out on the swarms of the Enemy at their gate, and help him deal with the grief of losing a father. He might even show him his father’s ring, the Feanorian star signet ring that he keeps as a necklace after his father’s death. Tells him how he gave this ring to his brother Maglor when he went off to go fight Morgoth, and how his brother returned it to him 30 years later after his rescue. Maedhros mentors and guides Beren for four years, long yet also just a blink of the eye.

Beren would lead fighting parties, he would become a swift and terrible blade under Meadhros’ wing, and a kind and just leader. But the bounty that Morgoth put on his head is still the same in this version, and he is still chased and hunted by Sauron until he flees into the woods of Nan Dungortheb, then into Doriath, and still falls in love with Luthien at first glance.

She still loves him back just as fiercely, and when Beren asks Thingol for Luthien’s hand, this time when he asks for a Silmaril, it is a snub towards the Noldor who have hosted and trained and, one could argue, even raised Beren. It is still just as an impossible task as before and Beren still accepts.

He knows he cannot go to Maedhros for this, he has his own battles at the North and Beren could never ask him to go back into the Enemy’s hands, so he writes him a letter explaining that he will not be returning home and still goes to Finrod. Celegorm and Curufin still try to stop their foolish cousin and his men from going on this quest. Finrod once again leaves with his small group of loyal men.

Except this time, as they leave Nargothrond, Amras and Amrod ride on to intercept them and encourage them to first rest, plan, and wait for Maedhros’ backup at their fort in Estolad. There they have more Men and Elves that want to join their group, and when Maedhros comes (furious about Thingol, worried about Beren going on this impossible task, sick with the feeling of the Oath forcing him to want to help send this young Man to his doom on the slim chance he might succeed) they create a real plan, get the schedules of the Enemy’s movements, and maps (a map of Fingon’s path into Angband, a map of Sauron and his lieutenants recent movements, patrol paths, and some secret paths that the trolls and slaves they rescued gave, and the layout of Morgoth’s halls that Meadhros himself remembers from his enslavement)

Maedhros also gives him a small, thin blade of Mithril. "It’s to hide on your person, if you get captured, this blade won’t break and is light as a feather." He gives him this blade, not to free himself or the others, as the purpose his brother Curufin had in mind when he made the blade for Maedhros after he was rescued by Fingon, but as another method of escape. The eldest of Feanor’s Sons grips Beren’s arm and tells him that there is nothing worse in Arda than being at the mercy of Morgoth and his pet Sauron. He tells him this blade may seem like a curse, but it is a gift. Meadhros doesn't pray, he hasn’t in centuries, but he dearly hopes that Beren will not have to use it.

This time, when Finrod sings his Song of disguise, it's over much more than a handful of followers. This time, when they reach Minas Tirith they are better prepared to sneak past the fallen city.

(This time, Curufin and Celegorm don’t kidnap Luthien so Celegorm will marry her, but to keep her safe. She still doesn’t appreciate it and still steals their dog. Well, it’s not stealing if the dog escapes with her. This time, when the brothers are still forced to leave Nargothrond, it's not under exile but as a polite but firm request to leave. This time, when they chance upon Luthien and Beren again, Celegorm isn’t fighting over his ego and heart being bruised, but because this bitch stole his dog, and because they made their dormant Oath writhe under their skin, which one could argue is worse. They still lose against the Man and the Half Maiar, and Celegorm’s dog still won’t come home. This time, when they make to to Maedhros’ Himring fortress, they aren’t screamed at for their political fuck ups, but they get a stern “Why do you two always make things so difficult for me” lecture of disappointment while Maglor plays an unsympathetic and taunting accompaniment)

They still fail. Finrod still fails in his battle against Sauron but he is able to do more damage to the former Maiar, and they free more of their trapped men before he is killed by a werewolf. This time it’s not only Arafinweian Elves that fall, but Feanorian as well. When Luthien comes to save him and carry Finrod’s body away, it is Meadhros’ men that send the news to his nephew in Nargothrond, and this changes things.

When they go into Morgoth’s halls again, this time, Beren uses the little mithril blade he was given. This time, he escapes with not one silmaril, but two. One for Thingol, and one for Meadhros and his Oath.

His hand is still eaten with the Silmaril by Carcharoth. And Beren still grieves for the loss, not because he has nothing to bring Thingol, but because he knows he can’t give Maedhros his due if he wants to marry the love of his life.

When he gives Thingol the Silmaril, he also gives a warning before doing so, that the gem may be cursed with Morgoth’s taint and while it’s shine is beautiful, it hides something darker, for nothing so lovely should make people bleed and die for it. And if Thingol was wise, he would give the Silmaril to the sons of Feanor before the Oath and the Curse of Feanor catches up to him.

Melian agrees. She is ignored. This does not change.

Beren and Luthien are wed, and Beren invites the Feanorians on the Hunting of Carcharoth, and it is Amras and Amrod that slay the beast with the help of Huan after it attacks Beren. Huan still dies. Beren still dies. Luthien still dies. Yet the Fenorians gain a Silmaril. This is different.

The Oath is not completed with just the one, but it is sated. This time, the Sons of Feanor do not send a letter to Thingol asking him to surrender the gem. This time Celegorm and Curufin do not threaten to burn Doriath to the ground on a refusal that never came. This time, Thingol does not tighten security on his borders. Melian still suggests that they give the Sons the stone after she catches her husband staring at it for too long. Once again she is ignored. That, at least, does not change.

Luthien still sings her husband back to life. They still retire tp Amros and Amrad’s lands, and this time Beren’s people in Himring join them. Dior is still born, and he plays and hunts with two red headed uncles.

(Nirnaeth Arnoediad is still fought. Maedhros is not betrayed by Ulfang, who had seen the light of the Silmaril the Sons hold, and does not cave to the sweet honeyed words of Sauron. His people are not cursed. And his sons still live to fight to survive the battle. This time, Nargothrond sends forces, and Luthien convinces her father to send troops as well. This time Fingon, and his men are not focused and he is able to defeat Gothmog. Fingon is wounded from this battle, and he still dies, but not to a Balrog. He dies as his father did, managing to land five blows on Morgoth before he is slain and the Dark Lord flees. Morgoth’s forces are dwindled down deeply, and there is a unity amongst the Free People’s of Beleriand. They still count heavy losses, but not as heavy as before. Maedhros grieves the death of his dearest companion, and retreats to Himring. While he was successful, he is still the shadow of the Elf he was before. He still wears golden ribbons wrapped around the stump on his right arm and he still weeps. His brother’s still don’t know how to help him. But this time, they do not suggest a second Kinslaying)

Thingol still dies to the Dwarves. Melian is still wounded and returns to Valinor in her grief. But this time Beren doesn’t kill the Dwarf Lord of Nogrod, he lets him keep the necklace but takes the Silmaril. Luthien, in her anger and grief, curses that the Dwarves of Nogord will one day succumb to their greed and become a stain upon their people.

(Unknown to Luthien or the Dwarves, thousands of years later, it is a descendent of a Nogord dwarf that convinces the King of Khazad-dum to continue to mine until they woke Durin’s Bane. It is a descendant of Norgord that was a spy for Sauron which allowed him to overtake Mount Gundabad. It is a descendant of Norgord that uncovers the Arkenstone. It was Narvi, a descendant of Norgord and Durin’s Folk that marries Celebrimbor, and whose death caused such a profound grief that became a weak point which Annatar was allowed to breach and convince Celebrimbor to craft with him. And it was in Narvi’s memory and honor that Celebrimbor crafted the Seven Dwarven Rings of Power. However, that tragedy could also be blamed on Feanor’s Curse.)

Dior still married Nimloth, he still had two sons and one daughter. His parents still die of mortal age and he once again becomes King of Doriath. This time, he gives his father’s bridal gift to his Elven foster uncles, Amrod and Amras. For this Dior was raised on the belief that this stone was indeed tainted by Morgoth. He knew and saw the death and destruction left in its wake. He heard Feanor’s Twins whisper about their broken eldest brother. How he blames himself for the deaths of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and for the death of the former High Noldiran King Fingon. All because he was spurred on by the confidence the Silmaril gave him. He saw how it turned the greed of the Dwarves into slaying his grandfather and wounding his grandmother. This time, he saw and he wanted no part in it.

This time Doriath is the one to host the refugees of Gondolin. This time, it burns by the followers of the Enemy that followed the refugees there. This time, Elrond and Elros are not raised by the ones who burned their city. But instead they were carried out by their twin uncles Elured and Elurin. This time, they were found by Meadhros and Maglor (they were on the run, as Himring was forsaken and overrun by Morgoth’s filth) who takes in not one, but two sets of twins in.

For all their mannish blood, Elured and Elurin aged more like Elves, and therefore looked and acted like Elves of thirty-one, which meant they were children themselves when they fled their burning home. This is compared to their father and younger sister, who grew like Men and were fully grown by their mid twenties.

Elrond and Elros are still raised by the Sons of Feanor. Elrond still follows his love of healing by trying to help the broken Meadhros, and still learns to sing at Maglor’s knee. Elros still learns to fight and foster his love of leading by watching and copying and learning from Maedhros and still learns to love and care and cook from Maglor. Their travels across Beleriand still make the younger twins open minded and still want to love the other races. Elrond still wants to create a city that acts as a safe haven for everyone. Elros still wants to live amongst men and make the choice that his grandmother made.

This time, Elured and Elurin get a chance to live. This time, Elurin will learn that he loves working with horses. This time, Elured will learn he likes to build things with his hands. This time, they will live long enough to join Elrond in his safe haven of a city, and this time they will help him raise his children, this time they will help guard Celebrain on her travels to visit her mother and their family. This time, they will be captured and allow her to escape back to her husband and their children. This time, it is them that will sail because they can’t escape the feeling of being chased, running wounded through tunnels, and being tortured. This time, Elrond grieves, but his children don’t grow up without a mother.

But that is a tale for another time.

In this time, when the War of Wrath ends, Maedhros and Maglor leave their two sets of twins in Lindon. They gather their brothers who live there, and collect those that don’t. This time, all seven of the Sons of Feanor fight in the War of Wrath in an attempt to take the single Silmaril from Eonwe. Curufin and Celegorm are still slain together. Amrod still burns, but this time to a balrog.

This time their Oath is fulfilled, but for attacking a Maiar it still burns them. Meadhros, lost to the pain of his remaining hand and centuries of grief, leaves his remaining brothers and still tosses himself and one of the Silmarils into the fire of the earth. Maglor weeps, tosses the second Silmaril in the ocean, and tries to drown himself. For it was he who urged his brother to join the War under the cover of taking the last Silmaril, but Caranthir pulled him back, weeping himself.

Amras, weeping, throws the final Silmaril to Eonwe, who has caught up to them. He curses the stone and with the Oath complete, refuses to let it tear apart what is left of his family. Eonwe sends the stone into the sky, and it still becomes a token of repentance, and it is still cast as a star in the sky.

Amras, Caranthir, and Maglor limp back to Lindon, and they are welcomed by Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor.

Caranthir will choose to stay with Celebrimbor in Eregion. He will continue to do trade with the Dwarves, he will continue to make lots of wealth on his trade routes, and he will continue to raise his own Half Elven children he created with Haleth. This time, he will see Annatar for the evil he is and refuse to accept any of his gifts. This time, when Celebrimbor accepts Annatar into his halls, he calls his nephew a fool and he leaves Eregion Numenor. This time, Caranthir will help Elros’ descendants create Gondor and there he will live with his children well into the Fourth Age. He will die being ambushed by a small band of highway robbers traveling to Lothlorien with trade goods.

Amras will continue to travel the world until he finally settles with a band of Green Elves which eventually settle in Greenwood. This band will soon join Oropher's group of Sindarin Elves. Amras will eventually marry a Green Elf and they will have one daughter, Tauriel. Amras will join the Last Alliance during the end of the Second Age, and he will die in battle. His wife will be left to raise their baby daughter alone, and soon she will fade after a thousand years of grief. Tauriel will be raised as a ward of Thranduil’s (in honour of her father, who was Lord of Elves and who’s own brother raised two generations of their children) and becomes dear friends his own son Legolas and spends many evenings babysitting him and teaching him the shapes of the stars.

Maglor will continue to sing by the water, he will still have a hand burned by the Silmaril, and he still will have a mind half lost to grief and guilt. But he will stay with Elrond, Elured, and Elurin in Lindon, and he will join them in Rivendell after the War of Sauron and the Elves, and he will be a grandfather to Elrond’s children, and he will walk Elured and Elurin to the Grey Havens, and he will sing on the shore until he can no longer see their disappearing boat. And come the end of the Third Age, he will sail west with his son and his daughter-in-law with the ring bearers.

This time, the Sons of Feanor will all be reunited on the Shores of the Undying Land.

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luna-writes-stuff · 3 years

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¿Are your requests still open? i got an idea: Thorin and recent wife! He's going to war. She is helping putting his armor. ¿Some with drama and crying?...

Quest for Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield

I went for Thorin leaving for Erebor and also, I don’t know how putting armor on works and I don’t want to risk writing the wrong things, so it’s helping him get dressed in general, so I hope it kind of fits your request! (I might have gotten carried away while wiring this,,,,hope you don’t mind)

Headcanons, female s/o

Tw: Angst, all the angst, bit of fluff (sprinkle of it), crying, Thorin being poetic and whatnot. I may or may not have cried writing this.

- Thorin leaving for Erebor hadn’t truly come as a shock to you. He had spent years trying to find his father, and you were always at his side, traveling with him wherever he went.

- But upon telling you he was leaving to reclaim his old homeland, you grew concerned. You knew it was dangerous for Thorin. He would not be the only one going for that mountain. Sure, he was the only one with the right to reclaim Erebor, but that wouldn’t hold off thieves and darker powers.

- So you immediately decided to come with him, accompanying him as you had always done. But you weren’t allowed to come. This poor dwarf had begged you to stay at home, trying his best to keep you safe.

- He was also aware of the dangers the road would bring and he would not wish that upon you. He would not purposely drag you into something that could cost you your life.

- After days of begging to come with him, you finally gave in, staying with Dis in the Blue Mountains, taking care of the remaining dwarves. You hadn’t been content with Thorin’s terms, but you knew there would be no way to convince him.

- You knew his decision was made out of love, yet you couldn’t help but feel miserable. Especially on the day he left.

- You had gotten up early, making a cup of tea before Thorin could even remove himself from the bed.

- As you had been braiding his hair again, you couldn’t stop the silent tears from rolling down. Your sight grew blurry through the droplets of water, but you refused to make a sound. Thorin was looking outside the window, looking at the small dwarflings already scattered over the open fields, their mothers not far away from them.

- It wasn’t until a tiny sniffle escaped you, he realized you had not been okay at all. He tried turning his head around, but you placed your hand of top of it, making him look straight ahead as you tried finishing the braid.

- “Amrâlîme-“ he started, but you cut him off, your voice cracking just a little, “Don’t. We both knew this day would come.”

- He was quiet for a few moments, before speaking up again; “You know I’m letting you stay out of my love for you, right?”

- You didn’t respond to him, your mind only focused on braiding his hair without screwing up.

- “I don’t want to put you in danger,” he tried, his head lowering a bit. “You must stay here for me. Stay safe.”

- “I have always been safe as long as I was with you.” You defended, grabbing one of your beads from the dresser beside you.

- “But you know this is important to me, right?” Thorin explained, even though he had done so a thousand times before. “When I come back, you can become a queen, Ghivashel.”

- “I don’t want to become a queen, Thorin.” You uttered, securing the piece of jewelry before letting go of his hair.

- “All I ever wanted was to be by your side. A crown doesn’t matter to me. All that matters to me is you. You and me.” The tears in your eyes had finally gathered enough to fall down on your lap, the sour taste of it lingering on your lips. You hadn’t even noticed Thorin turning around yet.

- “You promised me it would be the two of us until death do us apart.” Your voice cracked at the ending of your sentence, a sob stuck in your throat. Upon that sound, Thorin leaned forward, gathering you in his arms whilst he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

- “You promised, Thorin.” You whimpered into his chest, your hands clinging onto the fabric. “I know, I know.” He shushed, happy to hold you for a little while, knowing it might be the last time he’d ever hold you again.

- “It has always been the two of us and it will always be, Amrâlîme. I want you to stay with me as the stars fade out and all the water on this world has dried out. Even when the earth starts to shatter and all light disappears, I want you here with me.” He whispered, his hand now on your face, his forehead touching yours. “But that cannot happen if I lose you on this journey.”

- The question you had been dying to ask was on the tip of your tongue. The both of you knew exactly what it was, and both of you knew the answer too. “But what if I lose you?” You choked out, a new set of tears already forming.

- Thorin was quiet in response, not sure how to answer. The silence struck you hard, another sob escaping you as you furiously tried to wipe your tears away.

- “You won’t lose me, Kurdel. I promise.” Thorin replied, his eyes holding nothing but love for you, even as you could see them glossing up too.

- “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Thorin.” You warned, leaning into him again. He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you close once more.

- “Death won’t mean you lose me. I will always be with you. Even if you can’t see me.” With that, he reached for his hand, pulling a ring off and handing it to you. It had been the ring you had crafted for him when you were in your first year of courting.

- “Keep it safe until I’m back.” He muttered, placing a kiss on this top of your head. Just then, a knock was heard from the door, signaling his company had come to pick him up. His head shot up, yet it quickly wandered back to you.

- “Come home to me” You silently whispered, holding onto his hands. “I don’t care if you’re victorious or not. Come home to me.”

- Thorin hadn’t responded expect for a single smile on his face, holding both remorse and sorry.

- “Men lananubukhs menu.” He mumbled, placing one last lingering kiss to your lips. Your hand quickly found his face as his grabbed the back of your neck and back. When the two of you pulled away, your hand remained on his arm.

- “I love you too.” You uttered, showing a weak smile that was on the verge of collapsing. Thorin knew, and it pained him to leave you like this.

- “Do not spent your tears on me, Amrâlîme. I only ever wished to see you happy.” He encouraged, his hands rubbing yours, placing a soft kiss to it.

- “I will be back before you even notice I am gone.”

- But he wouldn’t be. You weren’t prepared to say goodbye to him that day. Yet now, a year later, that dreadful letter from Erebor had appeared and you realized you would not get another shot for a proper goodbye.

- You were left with nothing but the beads he gave you. Days had grown heavy on you. Your return to the mountain had been much anticipated, yet you remained in the Blue Mountains, not ready for a place that held so much grief and misery.

- “Until all light disappears, yet the sun shines, and you are not here next to me.” You mumbled, fidgeting with the ring Thorin had given you, the warmth of the object slowly disappearing.

#thorin oakenshield #thorin and company #tolkien #the hobbit #lord of the rings #thorin #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin imagine

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 2 years

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you KNOW i have to ask about Soulmates Library: Hawke and Varric

First I must ask if you've seen the Magicians. In the show they have a big ass library that tells the tale of everyone's life. But I changed it to meet my own ends. So. This is just the start because I haven't figured an ending out yet. But please enjoy.

The ocean crashed along the shoreline as Hawke and Varric trekked along, not sure what exactly they were searching for. They'd come to the islands to hide, with their friends in the wind and the continent falling apart. They thought they could escape just for a day or two. But as they walked and walked and walked, sand creeping into every crevice they had the irrigation was high and patience growing thin.

"Where the shit are we going?" Varric asked, dusting some sand from his hair.

"It's not far,"

"Not far from where? Civilatstion? A bath?"

"Who knew dwarves could be so grumpy anyone would think the sky was about to eat you,"

"Ha ha ha, very funny Hawke. Can I get a clue?"

"Merrill told me about it,"

"Great. So another demon then," he rolled his eyes

"No she said it was just-" Hawke pulled back a fern, gasping when she took in the sight of the oasis. The water was crystal clear, the trees created a perfect shade over the pool. Small fish swam amongst the lily pads and tiny butterflies fluttered amongst the many wild flowers in the sand.

"Andraates knickers, remind me to buy Daisy a present."

"I shall, maybe a new mirror," she pondered, not too long. Throwint her weapons to the ground, shrugging off her armor and leaving her in her underclothes. She cannonballed into the water, the water splashing up and soaking her dwarven companion.

"Hawke," he stared down on her , wiping the water from his eyes.

"Varric," she said in the sultry tone that sent shivers down his spine, only her eyes visible as she sunk into the water swimming towards him like a predator.

"Hawke," he warned, throwing his duster on the ground and placing Bianca next to her weapons. His steps slow as he tested the water, "I ever tell you the story of the dwarf who swam to far and sunk to the bottom of the sea?" She shook her head, "good, I forgot to write it down anyway."

The his second foot hit the water it started to glow, the blue aura pulsing and shining around them. "Varric," Hawke yelled scrambling forward and wrapping her arms around him

"What the fu-" he is cut off, searing lights filling both their vision as they hold each other close.

"UgH," they both shouted as they landed with a hard thud. The water rushed over them and soaking the marble floor they were sitting on.

"Hello," Hawke smiled, her hand sliding under Varric's chisled jaw and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Hawke," his tone warned, moving to stand, which was hard with such a large woman sitting atop him, "you're crushing me."

"Liar," she winked, moving to help them both up.

"Hey ah, Hawke. Where are we?"

"Not sure, seems kind of dusty. Maybe an old ladies house? Maybe Merrills grandmother?"

"Hawke?"

"Yes, Varric,"

"Is this A library?"

"Seems so," she says, blowing a thick layer of dust off one of the books on a nearby desk, "the tale of the champion," she reads aloud.

"Least they got some taste," Varric said, scanning the shelves, pulling put a rather large tome, "what is this? Elvish?"

"Who are they?" Hawke peers over his shoulder, pointing at the tall dark haired woman next to the shorter stocky man, his blonde hair tangled through her fingers as she angles his face upto hers.

"Seems to be-" he pauses, watching her move faster than he had seen before, "Umm Hawke, what are you doing?" She's tearing books from the shelves, opening them and flinging them onto the ground.

"Varric," her panicked voice echoing in the large room, "varric these books," she threw another onto the pile, "they're all about us."

"Hmm," he ponders, rubbing his finger into his stuble, "makes sense."

"What? Why would these be here? Why would they even exist?"

'Marion," he takes her hand. "Apparently I love you in every universe, in every way possible."

"That's cheesy, also not true."

"Not true? What more proof do you need?"

#varric tethras #Hawke #fanfic #da2 fanfic wip

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years

Text

(The Hobbit) Thorin x Reader: Dragonsickness and the Heart

(Author’s Note: Well, it’s spring, and usually spring gets me in a hobbit/LotR mood, so here we are. I actually wrote a shameless OC self-insert a few years ago, and decided to just take a section of it an make it a reader-insert.

Warnings: Thorin acts like a lil creep, but in the end he wouldn’t do anything to hurt reader.

While under the effects of the dragon sickness, Thorin says some things... You wonder if it’s the sickness talking, or perhaps it is his true feelings coming out.

Enjoy!)

You struggled with the dwarvish armor, finally letting it fall to the ground. It was much too big and clunky: you could barely stand in it! Thorin had given the order for the Company to armor up, but it didn’t look like it would be possible for you. The clank of metal sounded in the armory around the corner, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You had taken your chosen armor to an empty room to avoid the humiliation as you attempted to try the foreign material on. Even after you managed to finally figure it out, the weight of the metal was too much. You weren’t exactly in the mood for endless teasing on Fili and Kili’s part. Dwalin might even find it humorous and would never let you live it down.

Footsteps sounded around the corner, and you whirled around to come up with an excuse or explanation of some sort as to why you were hiding away like this. To your surprise, it was Thorin, all armored-up and looking…well…looking pretty good.

Even with everything that had happened, after how crappy of a person he had become since the dragon sickness took its hold, you were surprised to feel your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. He entered the dimly-lit room, eyes flickering from you to the bulky armor lying on the floor. He flashed an amused smile that made you feel weak.

“Trouble?” he asked, pacing over with a raised brow.

“Uh, y-yes,” you mumbled back, unable to meet his intense gaze. You tried to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself, yet it didn’t stop your heart from doing flips in your ribcage. “It obviously wasn’t going to fit. I don’t know why I tried anyways.

“Because you’re you,” he responded with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from you. He was being friendly, but there was still something off about him. His voice. He spoke in such a low and silky tone, practically laced with dragon sickness. It made you feel uneasy and not necessarily in a good way.

As Thorin took a step forward, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and flinched out of instinct from being on the road. He noticed and paused, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. He only meant to give you something, he said. When you nodded, he rounded the corner until he was out of sight. Moments later, he returned with a bundle of armor in his hands though these were different from the weighty pieces you had already tried. He handed you the iron shoulder plates first, and you marveled at the simple designs cast into them. They looked as if they’d been made just for you. Judging by the warmth in Thorin’s eyes, they had been.

“These should suit you better.”

You tentatively accepted the shoulder plates, fiddling with the leather straps that would hold them in place. You tried putting your arm through one loop as if it was a sleeve, but it felt wrong, so you tried a different angle, a different loop…

As if reading your mind, Thorin took and unbuckled it. “Here.”

You gulped as he carefully took your arm and put it through the correct loop. Each movement he made was slow and drawn out, and you wondered for a minute if he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart race. It wasn’t doing anything to help the situations of your one-sided love towards him. You resolved to accept the rest of the armor politely and go find another hidden room to figure it out on your own, but as soon as the shoulder plates were secure, Thorin proceeded to strap on a chestplate. Then he continued with a sort of metal shin guard.

“There,” he said finally, checking some of the straps to ensure they were in place. “You will be much better protected.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, releasing a breath. “Thank you.”

He gazed at you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “I will do all in my power to make sure you are safe.” Your eyes widened as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You should know I have grown rather fond of you, _________.”

You remained still, absolutely shocked at the unexpected statement. It felt as if your body wouldn’t respond. Surely, he doesn’t actually mean what he says? It must have been some strange effect of the dragon sickness, right?

You had joined the Company early in the journey in hopes of changing the ending. You and Gandalf had an understanding that you would gain the Company’s trust and use your knowledge of Middle-Earth to ensure the line of Durin survived. From the moment you appeared on the dirt path in front of the Company in your modern clothes feeling lost and uncertain, Thorin hadn’t taken much interest other than to bark orders to you or spare a disdained glance at you and Bilbo at your “softness” when it came to life on the road.

Over time, you learned to place your trust in the Company and to do your part so they’d trust you- including Thorin. He and you had started to bond, especially in Lake-Town when you’d spoken to each other outside in the snow during the celebration of the dwarves’ return to the mountain. You even managed to make him smile a few times. You realized that as Thorin had begun to trust you, you trusted him not only as a leader but as a friend, and your affection grew beyond what you’d originally thought.

Still, you wondered if perhaps it was all in your head. Thorin had seen you as young and naive early on, but that was only because of your inexperience in the world of Middle-Earth. Things had changed. Perhaps they had changed more than you thought?

Thorin’s breath disappeared from your ear as he pulled away to circle aroundyou, the armor clanking with every step. You were frozen to the spot, but your lips managed to form words.

“What about Balin? You told him that you felt nothing for me and that you were focused on the quest.”

An eerie chuckle echoed from behind. “I told Balin what he wanted to hear. I told him that so he would not question me any further on the matter, but the truth remains…” His voice sounded right behind you. “I care about you.”

He was saying what you wanted to hear all along, and yet it felt so wrong now. This wasn’t the real Thorin, right? You could not possibly accept this declaration of feelings knowing that he would snap out of it soon enough.

“W-we should go join the others…”

His arm snaked around your waist, earning a gasp from you. “I love you, ________, and I want you to say you feel the same.”

“Thorin, I can’t. You’re not yourself. The stress of the Arkenstone and the battle must be affecting you.”

“My own kin has betrayed me. One of them has taken the Arkenstone. Please, do not turn away from me as well. Say you love me. Be my queen.”

You were left breathless by his words. He had released you from his hold and circled back around to stand in front of you. Thorin leaned in, eyes flickering to your lips briefly. It was beyond tempting. All you had to do was lean in a few mere inches, and you would feel his lips on yours. It was what he wanted, and it was what you wanted…

“I have to go,” you stated, putting some distance between the two of you. Thorin’s lips pulled down in a frown as you stepped around him.

“You’re making a mistake,” he called over his shoulder. “An offer such as this will not come again.”

You hesitated at the doorway, shaking your head. “Then so be it.” And then you left. You didn’t dare look back as you hurried down the halls to get as far away from him as possible. He was crazy. Insane.

And so are you for turning him down, a small voice screamed from within your mind. You could have been his, even for a short time. You could have had his love, even if it was twisted. His kiss. His embrace… It could all have been yours if you had just said so.

But it was wrong, and you knew it, to take advantage of his situation.

“Bilbo!” You halted when you rounded a corner and almost collided with him. “Where are you off to?”

He glanced around to make sure no one was near, holding a long rope coiled up in his hand. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. I am taking the Arkenstone to Bard to use for bargaining. It’s the only way the people of Lake-Town will get their fair share. Hopefully, we will avoid war.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”

“Thank you, ________,” he whispered gratefully. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You pulled him into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll see you later!” You parted ways with the hobbit once more, him heading for the front gate while you lingered in the corridor. You felt so alone, standing there. None of the dwarves could understand the situation.

It wasn’t the time to tell Bilbo what had occurred with Thorin. It would be yet another dark secret to weigh on you for now, along with the possible fate of the journey.

That night, the dwarves talked and laughed by the fire as usual. Even though they had all of Erebor to go off and choose a room from, the Company still liked to gather together to share a meal and camp out just like old times. Fortunately, Thorin never participated, spending his days and nights in the throne room. You joined the group, glad to have something take your mind off of the recent events. Bofur led the group in a few songs, Fili and Kili told jokes, Nori and Dori bickered and teased each other, Ori laughed along with Bombur, Bifur, Oin, and Gloin.

Balin and Dwalin were in a more solemn mood, but couldn’t help cracking a smile every now and then. At some point, the dwarves started sharing stories of hilarious hardship over the course of the quest.

“But don’t you remember the time in the beginning of the journey when we had to cross that river?” Bofur asked with a grin, earning a few bursts of laughter. “Quite a few of us took a plunge that day!”

“I lost a lot of supplies,” Bombur said with a nod.

“And what supplies you did have left was soaked!” Bofur laughed, slapping his knee.

“I do recall the stew being soggier than usual that night,” Gloin joked.

“Or what about the afternoon when _________ quite literally got sick of traveling?” A teasing grin spread across Kili’s face. “She jumped off of her pony to go throw up in the bushes.”

“Hey! I felt terrible that day!” you protested playfully. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever ridden a pony all day every day for weeks before.”

“The best part was that Thorin scolded her anyway for holding the Company up,” Fili chuckled.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I remember a time when you and your brother were supposed to be watching the ponies and nearly got us all eaten by trolls when we had to go find them.”

“Ooh, that’s cold,” Kili feigned offense, unable to hide the amused grin.

“You don’t miss a thing, lass,” Bofur teased.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. No one asked about Bilbo, or wondered aloud where he was. The hobbit had been spending more time alone as of late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to not join them for dinner. He would return before dawn, you knew, but as each hour passed that evening, you became a little more anxious.

You managed to set aside your worries and let sleep overtake you. You fell into a deep sleep, and a certain dwarf king haunted your dreams that night.

#the hobbit x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin imagine #the hobbit imagine #thorin x you #the hobbit x you #thorin oakenshield imagine #hobbit imagine #thorin reader insert #thorin oakenshield reader insert #the hobbit reader insert #the company reader insert #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin #thorin the hobbit #hobbit thorin

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elvish-sky · 4 years

Text

The Arms of the One You Loved {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: Thank you for the request Anon! I'm sorry it's so long, I got a little carried away. Also, I can't drink so I have no idea what being drunk is like so I hope I did ok writing it! Enjoy!

Anon request from Tumblr: Heyy, could you do a Legolas x reader where reader gets really drunk (probably playing drinking game with dwarves) and Legolas has to take care of her since she has no clue what she's doing or saying, and make it fluffy pleaseee 🥺 And thank you!

Word Count: 3,149, oops! I’m sorry its so long!

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Summary: The Fellowship stops at an inn one night and you get very drunk, leading you to say and do some things you normally wouldn't.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, kissing, alcohol/drunkenness.

****

The Arms of the One You Loved {Legolas x Reader}

"Ok," Gimli whispered. "So Gandalf and Boromir each have ten silver coins on Legolas to confess first, Aragorn has fifteen on Y/N, Merry, Pippin, Frodo, and I have each placed six on Legolas, and Sam has eight on Y/N ." Everyone placed their coins in an empty pouch of Gandalf's, which he cinched tight and put in one of his many pockets. They were all sitting around a table in an inn where you had stopped for the night, in a town a little larger than Bree. It was a respectable inn, built of old wood planks that glowed in the light coming from the fireplace, and was hazy with the smoke of pipes.

You and Legolas were getting food and ale and had absolutely no idea this conversation was even happening. The rest of the Fellowship had noticed the tension and chemistry between the two of you and had been for a while, so they had decided to do something about it. Clearly, they were all rooting for you to get together, but they were going to have very different approaches to getting you to do so.

You returned to the table and set down one of the platters laden with food, Legolas following with the other. He was quickly accosted by all the hobbits except Sam, and Gimli, while you made your way over to sit next to Aragorn and Gandalf. You slid in between them and were confused by the smirks on their faces. You followed their gazes to the end of the table, where Merry, Pippin, and Gimli were chatting with Legolas. You couldn't make out what they were saying, although you thought you saw Merry mouth your name, and there were smirks on the face of all three. You then noticed Boromir and Sam whispering together, and it sounded like an argument where you caught snatches of your name, as well as Legolas'.

Growing increasingly confused, you turned to Aragorn. "Why is everyone talking about me?" "I have no idea, Y/N" he stated, and then changed the subject to one you dreaded. "I've been noticing you and Legolas lately." "What is there to notice?" you replied acidly. "Oh, nothing," Aragorn airily replied. "Just the way the two of you are always together. Walking together, getting the food together... One might think something was going on between the two of you!" You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as you blushed and vehemently denied this. "Nothing is going on between me and Legolas! Besides, even if I did feel something, who's to say he'd feel the same? I mean, look at him. Prince of Mirkwood, elf, everything I am not." Aragorn had a knowing glint in his eye when he countered, "I think you'd be surprised, Y/N. Elves don't always prefer other elves." As he spoke, you saw his hand reach down to rest over the necklace he carried that you knew belonged to his beloved Arwen. Seeing your eyes follow his hand and then wistfully glance back to Legolas, he said, "Just tell him how you feel, Y/N. What harm could it do, to be honest with him?" "He could not love me, Aragorn. That's the harm it could do. I would rather be hopeful and not know than know that my feelings were not returned."

You were drawn out of this conversation by Gimli, who had gathered everyone's attention. "Let's have a drinking contest!" he proclaimed. You brightened, thinking maybe the alcohol would take your mind off of a certain elf. Gandalf proceeded to stand and walk away, as he went declaring "I'm too old for this nonsense! Give me a pipe over ale any day." Frodo rose, and with a quiet "good night" went upstairs as well, followed by Sam. "Anyone else too scared to challenge the champion?" Pippin asked. When you didn't move, Gimli blathered, "Y/N, a drinking contest is no place for a lass. Perhaps you should go rest and leave the drinking to us." You bristled and immediately got up to grab a pint of ale. Returning to the table, you declared "game on, dwarf," chugging the whole mug and slamming it onto the table. The looks of surprise from the males quickly turned to those of determination, and they scrambled to get their own mugs and catch up.

An hour and five pints later, you were all in varying states of drunkenness. Merry had been the first to stop, puking after two. Pippin had fallen asleep after three, and they had been carried upstairs by Boromir, who had bowed out after four pints. Gimli looked like he would tip over at any moment, and Aragorn looked a little sleepy, but Legolas looked serene as ever. Clearly, alcohol didn't affect elves in the same way it did others. You, meanwhile, could barely think straight, let alone see straight. You weren't even sure who was still at the table. You could discern a smaller shape that was either Gimli or Pippin slumped on the table and two larger ones. You sat up a little as a crash rang from the room, signifying Gimli falling from his stool fast asleep. "I'll bring him up." Aragorn rose, a little shakily, and poured water over Gimli's head, causing him to splutter and stagger to his feet. They made their unsteady way up the stairs, supporting each other. As they went, Legolas looked back to your seat and let out a soft curse. You were gone.

While Aragorn and Gimli were leaving, you had appeared on top of a table and had begun singing a drinking song that Merry had taught you while walking one day. "There is an inn, a merry old inn, beneath an old grey hill," you began, and as you sang you started to dance a jig, which involved a lot of flailing. You were quickly cut off by Legolas, who had sprung onto the table next to you. "My deepest apologies that this performance will be unable to continue, but my friend here needs to get some rest," he declared while barely able to keep a straight face. To the boos of the crowd, who probably had not witnessed a woman make such a spectacle of herself in a long time, he picked you up and carried you bridal-style upstairs.

Once upstairs, he plopped you down onto your bed. He turned to grab you a blanket, intending to tuck you in and then leave, but was stopped by you. "Legolas." "Yes, Y/N?" "You look pretty." you slurred, standing up and staggering towards him. "I like your hair, and your face, and your tunic, and..." you trailed off as your eyes met his. "Y/N," he murmured, "you are very drunk and you don't know what you're saying. You should sleep now." "Don't wanna sleep," you mumbled as you began to undo your tunic laces, "not tired." Legolas realized you were beginning to undress, "Whoa! Y/N, keep your shirt on!" "But I need to get ready for bed." you protested as you continued to undress. Finally, you stood with only your underthings on, and an elf who was doing his best to cover his eyes. "Y/N, I'm going to leave now," he stated, and he did. But he had barely made it two steps down the hall outside your door when he heard a crash, followed by muffled yelling and then a soft thump. He opened your door with a loud bang and stopped short at the sight before him.

"What happened?" he spluttered as he saw you, on the ground with your nightclothes tangled around you and all your weapons scattered around the room. "I was tryin' to get my bedclothes on, but I couldn't figure out where my feet or head went, so I just wrapped them around myself to stay warm. Then I was stuck so I tried to reach my daggers to cut myself out, but I just tipped everything over." Chuckling at your stupidity, he picked you up and placed you on the bed, untangling you from the mess you had made. He laid out your clothes on top of you, and with gestures showed you where each body part went. He turned to leave again but was stopped by your voice. "Legolas," you mumbled, "Would you help me put this on?" "Oh, Y/N," he protested, "I don't that's very proper..." but he trailed off as the pleading look on your face became too much for him, and with a sigh, he began to help you get dressed. As he fastened the laces around your chest, you noticed a faint spot of red blooming on his pale cheeks. "Are you blushing?!" you exclaimed drunkenly. "No... no way, why would you think that?" stuttered the elf as he backed away from you. "You're blushing! HA!" And with a smirk, you whispered in his ear, "I want to make you blush like that whenever you see me." You turned, flopped onto the bed, and grabbed Legolas' hand, dragged him next to you. Your mood changed yet again, and you felt slightly remorseful for how crazy you were being and decided to just clear it all up for Legolas. "I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I love you." He looked extremely startled, and that turned to shock as you pulled his face down to meet yours and kissed him. He pulled back, "Y/N, I don't want to do this now. You're drunk. It wouldn't be right." Disappointed, you rolled over and whispered, "Ok. Just, please stay?" He sighed but laid next to you on the bed. You fell asleep quickly, but he stayed awake, his head spinning.

You awoke the next morning with a splitting headache and no memories of the previous night. You remembered starting a drinking contest, and something to do with Legolas, but other than that your mind was blank. You rose and got dressed, noticing your clothes scattered on the floor of the small room. You gathered your things and went downstairs, where your headache was intensified by the assaulting noise of travelers having breakfast. You clapped your hands over your ears, wincing, and wound your way through the room to the table where your friends were sitting. Gandalf, Frodo, and Sam looked raring to go, as they hadn't partaken in much ale the night before. The rest were all in varying states of disarray, with Merry, Pippin, and Gimli looking the worst, and Boromir and Aragorn looking like they had headaches, but could manage. Legolas, meanwhile, seemed as ethereal as ever, except for the fact that he wouldn't even look at you. What did I do last night? you wondered as you scarfed down breakfast with your cloak wrapped around your head to block out the noise.

Tramping out of the inn after eating, you slung your pack over your shoulders and fell into line behind Aragorn. Even he seemed a little worse for wear after the amount of alcohol he had consumed. "What happened after I left last night?" he queried. "Honestly, I don't even remember you leaving," you answered truthfully. "All I know is that something involved Legolas, I wish I knew what." Aragorn looked rather excited for a second, and then his face changed to one of contemplation. You walked in peaceful silence for a while, and he eventually moved up the line to speak with Legolas, and you worried about what he might be doing. Sam fell back to keep you company. "Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling after last night?" he said with a concerned look on his face. You smiled down at the hobbit, touched by his inquiry, and responded, "I'm okay, thank you, Sam. I have a headache, but that was to be expected. I just wish I could remember what happened! I seem to remember something about Legolas, but that's it." As you spoke, you missed Sam's head perk up to listen more intently once you spoke Legolas' name. "Well, I think you should ask Legolas what happened," he suggested with a bit of a sly look on his face. "And then, maybe, you could tell the rest of us!" You pushed his shoulder playfully, "I don't know Sam. I guess I'll tell you if it's not too embarrassing." With that, you fell back into companionable silence with the hobbit.

Meanwhile, a ways ahead of you Aragorn was talking to Legolas, inquiring about last night's events. "So, what happened after Gimli and I went upstairs last night?" Aragorn was startled to see a small patch of pink appear on Legolas' cheeks after he had spoken. "Something happened! What? Did you tell her?" he kept prodding with an air of such excitement that Legolas finally caved and told him. "Well, she was very intoxicated so I brought her to her room. She insisted on me helping her get her nightclothes on, which was rather embarrassing." "I know more than that happened," observed Aragorn. "I'd like to know, maybe I can give you some advice." With a sigh, Legolas admitted, "Y/N might have kissed me." The "WHAT?!" that came out of Aragorn's mouth was probably heard in Mordor, and it was loud enough to make your headache come back with a vengeance. Legolas continued, "And she also told me she loved me." Aragorn was now beaming wider than Fangorn forest. "Did you say anything? What prompted this?" "I did not say anything, other than to tell her to stop kissing me because she was drunk and I did not want to take advantage." "So you left?!" "No, she asked me to stay, so I left early this morning." "This is wonderful, Legolas!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Now you can be with her," he encouraged. And then the realization hit him. "Oh, no. She doesn't remember anything from last night." "So that means we can just all go back to normal." Legolas wheedled. "No one has to tell her anything. Besides, she was drunk and had no idea what she was saying. She doesn't love me." "She loves you, Legolas. Just as you love her." Aragorn hoped that his friend would recognize the truth so that the two of you finally stopped feeling heartsick over the other.

As the sun was starting to sink behind the mountains behind, washing the sky a glorious combination of pink and orange, Boromir found a spot to camp and everyone shrugged off their packs and began setting up. As usual, you and Legolas were put on firewood duty together, something that usually didn't register in your brain but tonight you looked at Aragorn in suspicion as he waved you into the woods, the elf following.

You gathered logs and picked your way through the forest towards the campsite. As you approached, you heard voices, and you hid behind a tree as you heard Aragorn tell everyone to be quiet. "I have news," he announced in a whisper. "It pertains to a certain bet we all made." At that everyone's head snapped towards him and they listened raptly. Just then, Legolas came up beside you and you yanked him behind the tree next to yours, gesturing at him to stay quiet. His eyes widened as Aragorn's voice drifted over to you. "Legolas told me that last night, Y/N told him she loved him." This was met with groans from everyone who had bet for Legolas. Aragorn continued, saying something about how everyone owed him and Sam, but you missed it. At his first words, your head had jerked over to Legolas'. "Did I really say that?" you stammered. "Yes. And some other things that are best not repeated." You put your face in your hands. "I'm so terribly sorry, Legolas. I never meant to tell you, and I'm sorry for anything else I might have done. We can go back to normal, or I can just never talk to you, anything you want." You broke down in tears as you said this.

"Hey, Y/N." Legolas stepped over to you and took your chin in his hand, brushing the tears off your face with his thumb. "It's okay. Last night was a little crazy, but I've had time to think about it, and I think I know what to do." With that, he brushed your hair behind your ear, leaned in, and softly pressed his lips against yours. He pulled away, looking nervous. "Wait," you muttered, mind whirling over what this meant, "are you messing around?" "No, Y/N. I love you too" At this you reached up and pulled his head down, meeting his lips with yours. You tangled your hands through his hair as his came down from your face to rest on your waist. You backed up, intending to press your back against a tree, but tripped over a root and fell with a crash, Legolas on top of you. Your friends must have heard because they all came rushing around the tree, weapons drawn, to find a blushing elf and human lying on the forest floor in a rather compromising position. Legolas scrambled up, "It's not what it looks like, I promise!" "It's exactly what it looks like," you countered from the ground, laughing. "Now, someone help me up!" The elf bent down and scooped you into his arms, carrying you back to the campsite followed by a smirking Fellowship. "I guess you can't assign them to firewood anymore, eh, lad!" Gimli exclaimed to Aragorn. "Who knows what they might get up to!" Upon hearing this, you threw a well-aimed pinecone at him.

"What I really want to know now was who won the bet you had on us!" You exclaimed. "Wait, they were betting on us?" Legolas looked offended. "Weren't you paying attention," you questioned. "That's what they were talking about when Aragorn mentioned what happened last night!" "I was a little preoccupied with making sure the love of my life knew I loved her," he responded, making you blush. "Aragorn won thirty-five silver coins and I won thirty-two!" Sam announced. "And what did you win that for?" Legolas asked. "We were the only two that bet on Y/N confessing to her feelings first," Aragorn said. "I'm rather offended none of you thought I would have the courage, but it looks like those were some badly placed bets!" you directed these words at everyone who had bet against you. "Technically," Merry exclaimed, "you didn't!" "Yeah," Pippin continued, "it was a drunken confession! You can't control what you say when drunk!" At the accusation they hadn't won fairly, both Aragorn and Sam started arguing back, and the campsite quickly dissolved into chaos. You, pleased to have caused a little bit of trouble in return for all they had caused you, didn't care. You leaned back against Legolas with a sigh as he stroked your head, content to be in the arms of the one you loved.

Everything Tag: @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @entishramblings

#legolas #legolas fanfic #legolas one shot #legolas one shots #legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #legolas fic #legolas fanfiction #lord of the rings #legolas imagines #legolas imagine #the hobbit #jrr tolkien

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guardianofrivendell · 4 years

Text

Of bookcases and headaches

Merry x gn!reader

Requested: Yes, by a lovely anon for my 1k sleepover! “Congratulations! May I ask for 💙 with Merry, General Prompt 8 and/or 6?”

Prompts: 6 - Are you taking care of yourself? 8 - Is that my book?

Warnings: no warnings, how about that?

A/N: This got longer than I intended to... So this gets its own post and will be linked with the oneshots instead of sleepover drabbles. It was the first time writing for Merry (besides the preference posts) so thank you anon for this request! Also yes, this might have been inspired by the events of the past week :)

I’ve been out of my writing mood for weeks - ever since I’ve published Dwarves Always Knock Thrice and I hope I’m getting back into it with this fluffy comfort fic 🙈

Merry was on his way to meet up with Pippin in the Green Dragon, their weekly visit for a pint or two to celebrate the end of the week. Or the beginning of a new one. Any reason was a good one really.

The all too familiar path took him past your house and he caught himself slowing down his pace every time, in the hopes of catching you outside so he could invite you to join him.

Which was ridiculous really, since you were both friends who regularly talked to each other. It wouldn’t be considered weird for him to knock on your door and simply ask you to join him for a pint.

But somehow Merry found it extremely difficult to do so.

Most of the time he just lingered for a few seconds before he chickened out and quickly continued his way to his favorite pub, telling himself that next time he’ll be brave enough to do it.

Today however it went a little different.

When he stopped at the white fence surrounding your yard, he noticed something different about your house. Something that didn’t feel quite right. It took him a while before he realized what was wrong.

The curtains were drawn.

And it wasn’t even time for afternoon tea yet!

Without a second thought, Merry opened the gate and made his way over to your yellow front door. Gone were his nerves and his doubts, replaced with worry for you.

He knocked a few times but you didn’t answer.

It wasn’t until he started knocking on your window, calling out your name that he heard the front door unlock.

“Y/N?” he asked.

You had opened the door just a smidge, enough for you to be able to see who was so rude to disturb your peace and quiet.

“Merry?” you croaked.

Merry’s face went blank when he heard your raspy voice.

“Y/N? Are you alright? What’s wrong?!”

You winced at the volume of his voice, and one of your hands flew to the side of your head. “Shhhh,” you shushed him, stepping back into the darkness of your entrance hall and leaving the door open.

Merry hesitated for a second, not sure if he should follow. But if you didn’t want him to come inside, you would’ve closed the door or told him to go bugger off. Right?

Every curtain in the house was drawn, there weren’t any candles lit and Merry’s eyes needed some time to adjust to the lack of light before he could go any further.

As he entered your living room, his eyes widened at the state it was in. Books and scrolls scattered everywhere, like they were carelessly tossed aside without a second thought where they would end up. This was very unlike you.

He watched you curl up in your armchair with a heavy sigh, tucking your feet under you and burying yourself under your blanket. It was obvious he had woken you up, which explained the raspiness of your voice.

“This place is a mess, Y/N… ” “Yeah, thanks to you,” you accused him. “What did I do?” Merry looked at you confused. “You don’t have to yell, I can hear you just fine.” “Y/N, I’m not yelling,” he said, taking a few steps in your direction. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You ignored his question.

“My living room looks like a troll horde because I was looking for that.”

You pointed towards the small wooden side table where, in between empty teacups and dirty plates, lay a thick book with a dark blue binder.

Merry recognized the silver lettering on the spine.

“Is that my book? The one that you borrowed from me… A year ago or so?””

You hummed in response, burying your head in your hands. “I know, I’m a horrible person!”

He chuckled. “Y/N, you’re hardly horrible. The complete opposite would be more accurate in fact.”

You raised your head a little too fast at his words and you winced.

“I’ll go and make you some tea,” Merry smiled at you and made his way to your kitchen, taking the dirty cups and plates with him.

He brought you a fresh cup of tea, almost tripping over the many books and paper scrolls on the floor in the process. You took a sip and winced when you burned your tongue.

“Careful, it’s hot. I thought that was a given,” Merry said, rolling his eyes in a playful geste.

He took the cup out of your hands and placed it on the side table before he crouched down in front of you.

“Now will you finally tell me what’s wrong? I cannot help if you won’t tell me.”

Merry’s eyes met yours and you noticed the concern in them. He didn’t even try to hide it.

“I hurt my head and now I can not bear any light or noise… And my stomach is upset for some reason. It’ll pass.”

Merry’s eyes widened. He did not know a lot about healing or injuries but he knew what it was like to have a concussion. It was that kind of knowledge you gathered over the years when you were friends with a Took.

“It sounds a lot like a concussion, Y/N. How did you hurt your head?”

“Long story short, I thought I lost your book. I did not want to tell you because you were going to be mad at me and I hate it when you’re mad at me-” “When have I ever been mad at you?” he interrupted. “Hush, I’m trying to explain something here. But then when I was lying upside down in my chair, I saw your book underneath my bookcase. That’s why I couldn’t find it!” “Should I ask why you were lying upside down?”

You raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. He would almost think your headache was gone, if not for the slight squinting of your eyes and your pale complexion.

“Do you really want to go there, Merry?” “Hey, if I’m missing out I want to know!” “It’s a great way to see things from a different perspective,” you explained with a smile, but it did not reach your eyes.

He rested his chin on his hand. “Hmm, i guess you could be right. Now, continue, what happened with the book?”

“When I tried to get the book - your book - from under the bookcase, I couldn’t. It was stuck. So I gave it a good yank, but then the whole thing started toppling over!” “So rude!” he gasped dramatically. “Right?” you laughed, and this time it did reach your eyes. Merry was happy to see you were slowly getting in better spirits and pride filled his chest knowing he was the reason behind it. “I was able to stop the case from falling over, but most of the books fell off the shelves. A few of them hit my head pretty hard.”

Merry nodded in understanding. “Hence the headache. And your troll horde.”

You huddled a little deeper under your blanket and closed your eyes.

“I didn’t feel like cleaning it up yet.” “When did this happen?”

You opened your eyes again but kept them trained on the ground.

“Two days ago…” “Two days- Y/N, have you been taking care of yourself these two days? You should’ve called someone!”

You scoffed.

“I know how to take care of myself, Merry. Besides, I was more asleep than anything else. I didn’t need help.” “You don’t have to do everything by yourself, Y/N. There are people who care for you, you only have to let them in.”

The silence that followed was deafening and Merry wondered if he had said too much.

He jolted back to his feet and clapped his hands before he could help it. You flinched and groaned softly, cursing him.

“I’m sorry!” Merry apologized quickly. “I forgot! I was about to tell you what I planned and I got excited. I’ll try and be good from now on.”

“We both know that’s impossible,” you chuckled. Merry was relieved you weren’t angry with him.

“I’m going to the Green Dragon first, Pippin is probably wondering why I didn’t show up and I don’t want to make him worried. After that I’m coming back, okay? Then I’ll clean up your books so you don’t break your neck. In the meantime, you try and get some more sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He turned around and stepped into the hallway, but paused when you called his name.

“Merry?” “Yeah?” “You’re the best friend someone could wish for,” you smiled, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“So I’ve been told...”

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#Merry x reader #Merry x gn!reader #Merry x you #Merry Brandybuck #Meriadoc Brandybuck #Lord of the rings #Lotr fanfiction #Lotr imagine #Lord of the rings x reader #Guardianofrivendell 1k sleepover #Lord of the rings imagine #lotr #requested

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sabersandsnipers · 4 years

Text

Against the Stars

(Thorin x Elf!reader)

Erebor was truly a sight to see. In the short time you’ve been with Thorin, he told you tales of Erebor’s strength and when the Dwarves thrived. Laying in his arms at night, his rough voice vibrating through you, he would paint a picture of his home for you. You would fall asleep dreaming of the mountain, and the beauty that lay within it.

And now you were here, with Thorin as king. Everything would have been perfect. If it weren’t for the fact that you were an Elf in a kingdom of Dwarves. The side eyes and glares weren’t hard to miss. You would hear your name and “elf” in a sneering tone whenever you were near others. If they knew you were seeing Thorin, you could only imagine the wrath that would bring upon you. An Elf? Courting their King? Disgusting.

It began to dawn on you the choice you would have to make. Thorin was king now. His subjects were expecting him to take a queen, and you knew an Elven queen would never be accepted. Trouble were to ensue if you were to stay in Erebor.

With your heart heavy, you begin making your way to Thorin’s chambers. Your mind runs through what you plan to say to him. You know he will be stubborn, and the only way you will be able to get your point in is if you plan your words now. You try to keep your thoughts focused, but the walk to see Thorin gives your mind the opportunity to wander. To think about your love.

You think of him in Rivendell, the first time you saw him. He was in the middle of his journey to the lonely mountain, running from that pack of orcs. He was injured, and as the healer of Rivendell, Elrond insisted that Thorin see you.

Needless to say, Thorin was not pleased of showing his vulnerable side in front of an Elf. You made him curse with the liquid you used to clean his wounds. You apologized, carefully beginning to wrap a bandage around the laceration on his thick forearm. You could feel him watching you, and your cheeks burned. The silence began to grow thick as you continued your tasks.

You cleared your throat. “What has your journey been like?”

His face turned sour. Or maybe it was already sour. “It’s been perilous, and difficult. Not that an Elf like you would understand what that’s like.”

His blue eyes stared right through you and you couldn’t think of anything to say. You wanted to put him in his place and defend yourself, but you felt small in his presence. He noticed you were taken aback by his words. His eyes softened slightly.

“I apologize,” he offered.

Your voice found you. “We’re not all like the Mirkwood Elves, you know. Some of us have compassion.”

He studied you for a moment and you found yourself staring at the sight of his broad chest peeking out from his tunic. “Don’t take my hostility personally. I have just always thought of Elves as cold and prideful.”

You wanted to say more, but you were distracted by the thought of running your hands through that raven hair of his.

You’re brought back to the present as you reach Thorin’s chambers. Heart pounding in your chest, you knock on his door. A small part of you hopes he’s not in there.

“Come in,” his low voice emits.

You sigh, preparing yourself for the task ahead. You slowly open the door and step in. Thorin’s eyes meet yours and it takes your breath away. Just like the first time you saw him.

“Hello, my love,” he says. He comes to you, pressing his lips against yours. Their warmth sends butterflies through your torso.

You want to fall into him, to forget your task and crawl into his bed. But he sees your expression. His face shifts into one of concern. “What is it?” he asks.

Your throat feels thick, but you force your words out. “I think I need to leave Erebor.” The shock is clear on his face, and guilt rips through you.

“Why do you say this?” He reaches for your hands, enveloping them in his large ones.

“You are the king, Thorin. You are expected to find a queen and have an heir. This kingdom would never accept an Elf as their queen,” you tell him.

“You are right. I am King,” he says, his gaze growing hard. “I have the final say in the rulings of Erebor. If I want to take an Elf as my wife, no one can stop me.”

“But you’re council won’t support it. You’ll lose the support of your people. We would be facing opposition for the entirety of our marriage,” you continue. He steps away from you, running a hand roughly through his hair.

“You speak as if the entire kingdom hates you,” Thorin states. “You have done great things for my people, (Y/N). You’ve provided aid to the wounded dwarves who fought. You’ve given every spare moment to lend a hand when needed.”

“Then why do people speak harshly of me in the halls? Why do the Dwarf women refuse to acknowledge me?” you push. The frustration in you continues to build. You wait for Thorin’s reply, expecting another argument.

But it doesn’t come. He steps closer to you, cupping your face in his large, calloused hands. The same hands that have forged great weapons can hold you so softly.

“They are simply filled with ignorance. They have not yet seen that Elves can be fair and kind. They have only known the hatred brought on by Thranduil,” You lean into his touch. “But if you give them time, they will learn.”

“How can you be so sure?” you whisper.

“Because you taught me,” Thorin replies. He leans in, and his lips catch yours again. You melt into him as his hands grab onto your waist. Your hands find their way through his hair, careful to mind the courting braid woven into his locks.

He pulls away, breathless, and presses his forehead to yours. “Stay, my love,” he pleads.

“Always.”

#thorin oakenshield #thorin #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield imagine #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #thorin oakenshield x elf!reader #thorin x elf!reader #elf!reader

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legolaslovely · 3 years

Text

A Dwarf and His Fairy

A/N: Here it is! The Fíli x Fairy piece I've been working on! This piece taught me a LOT! About editing, plotting, character work, etc., and though it's not perfect, I'm still really proud of it and happy with it. Thanks to all who supported me with this one. I hope you enjoy it :)

Pairing: Fíli x Ivy (my fairy OC)

Word Count: 3,780

Warnings: None!

Summary: Even Fíli needs someone to remind him that self-care is a requirement, and not a reward. Good thing he has a somewhat relentless, but very loving fairy friend to remind him.

Fíli slid the book away in defeat. It was as heavy as stone and full of numbers and dates and plans and problems. Even as the wicked pages turned by, they let out a nasty hiss and the scratchy old leather cover whipped around with a solid, successful splat, fighting Fíli until it’s last breath.

Once it was done, his surrender official, Fíli’s head fell into his hands and he groaned, making one of the last candles in his chambers flicker in his breath. Truthfully, the nub of wax, short wick, and tiny flame was barely a candle at all. It hardly resembled the tall, radiant torch it had previously been. But it wasn’t alone. Similarly, as the night went on, Fíli’s resolve had melted away and his shoulders warped and rounded like hot wax until there was very little light to give.

All because of that damned book.

“I need a break,” he said to no one but the silver platter of untouched goodies sitting on the corner of his desk. There was a small, shining jug of sweet milk, a tiny jar of honey with a miniscule spoon to match and a delicate bowl of crumbling honey cakes. It was all left waiting, as was Fíli.

He stared at the treats and swore he saw them move. But he dismissed it, ascribing it to fatigue, and closed his eyes, leaning his heavy chin on his wrist.

Then something struck him.

It was a scent he’d long been familiar with. Despite its peculiarity, he could always pinpoint its source from the first time he witnessed it and matched it with its meaning. This was the smell of magic- frozen as fresh winter frost and balmy as sun bathed flower petals- and it effortlessly roused him from his near nap and provoked him to sit up straight and search the room.

At first, he saw nothing, though he did recognize the swishing sound of her clothes rushing through the air. Every spent candle in his chambers now roared to life with new flame and an endless wick. The room glowed as if it was midday, not only with candlelight, but with the hope and warmth of company.

“Oh, my friend,” Fíli said. “Make yourself known to me. I’ve longed to see you again.”

She stopped, showing herself just below the ceiling in front of the desk. With a smile, she gracefully and silently descended, relaxing her wings and letting them sway through the air rather than furiously flap. When she found her place before Fíli’s eyes, however, the four little wings revolved again in a blur of speed in her otherwise still, hovering flight.

“Hello, my dear,” he said, holding out a horizontal finger for her to perch on if by chance she was tired from her journey, or simply wanted to be near him.

She only smiled and took his hospitality. Even when her bare feet landed on his knuckle, Fíli barely felt her touch. Though he hadn’t seen her in some weeks and though they’d met decades ago, she still looked the same to him, as if time would never disturb her.

His fairy’s name was Ivy. She was almost as tall as his hand from wrist to fingertip, and she had long waving hair as dark as a winter night’s sky. The dress she wore was sturdy despite its fabric of light leaves and soft petals. Fíli had no doubt her clothing was made of the same flower whence she came. It was the legend, after all, though she herself never told him so. Instead, it was his fascination and, one could even say infatuation, that spurred on his research.

No matter where she was or what she was doing, his little fairy friend always appeared to glow. Fíli didn’t believe it to be magic or the pollen on her dress or the shine on her wings. He thought it was simply her essence that glowed and shone like a piece of a star drifting from its flight for his own sake and pleasure.

She was a pleasure. And she had been missed.

“Where have you been?” Fíli asked. It wasn’t accusatory or disappointed or cruel. He just wondered. “Tell me of your travels.”

She sat down on him and squeezed his finger with hers, like tangled blades of grass, as if she knew how much he missed traveling himself. Like she knew of that feeling deep down in his bones that defied his kind and his duties, begging and pulling at him to wander and explore.

Still, the bundle of joy that she was, she didn’t dwell or dawdle, but showed him where she’d been, using pictures in lieu of words so he could see these places himself.

The visions flew up behind her head and revealed scenes that were so clear, it was as if Fíli was simply looking through a window and out into the most mystifying bits of the world. He could smell the warm wind that blew through tall grass on the hills and could hear the gurgling of stream water. He recognized the soft, wet, moss-ridden floor of Fangorn Forest and when he asked his fairy what she’d been doing there, she showed him the fresh green leaves of saplings. Her memories unveiled the fairies’ gifts of hardy seeds and fresh water, along with magic, but not artificial sunlight.

“You helped them grow,” Fíli said, astonished at the ability and yet, not surprised at his friend’s generous deeds.

Ivy smiled and another scene flashed above her head. This one sent real spray into Fíli’s face that knocked him back into his chair with an indignant cry.

Her feet kicked through the air as she laid back and laughed, making the sound of a small bell ringing in the distance. It was the only sound Fíli ever heard from her and upon hearing it, he instantly forgave her antics.

“What was that?” he asked, voice left high from his surprised yelp.

It only made her giggle more and even louder, like the bell was soaring closer to Fíli’s ears. With a hand over her belly, she leaned back again and in her entertainment, slid right off Fíli’s finger.

“Hey there, careful!” Fíli chided, grinning all the way. He caught her, sitting her in his palm to avoid another slip. When she calmed and settled in the cushiony pillow of his hand, he said, “I should have let you tumble for that trick!” He winked. “But then again, you would have flapped your wings before you hit the ground, hm?” She narrowed her eyes at him, but it was fruitless. She giggled again and pointed at him with a shaking finger.

“You’re right,” he said. “I would never let you fall.”

At that, she turned fully pink. Not just the round of her cheeks or the tips of her pointed ears, but completely pink- wings and all. Fíli loved it when she did that, especially when he was the reason for it.

The bright shade only lasted for a moment, however, and she quickly brushed her hair off her shoulder, pushing the locks down her back, and brought Fíli’s attention back to the scene that had splashed him. With a flick of her finger, she showed him more, uncovering a waterfall that was so tall, it could have reached the parapets of the mountain of Erebor. The water that flowed off the cliff and into the serene lake was as blue as the summer sky and framed with the deep green clouds of the hanging trees and stout bushes near its edges. The bright sunlight left specks of glitter in the fall’s foam and a radiant ribbon through the water’s center that was so blinding, Fíli had to squint hard until the vision moved and gave him a new, less glaring view.

“It’s so beautiful,” he said.

She let him admire the scene for a long, generous moment before taking him along the trails hidden in the connecting forest to show him its exact location. The exploration was all done through the window of the vision.

“I know where that is,” he said. “It’s not too far from here, close enough where you and I could sneak away. It seems I’m not the only one who could use a break from my duties.”

The fairy smiled and nodded, hair waving against Fíli’s palm and tickling him. In her eagerness, the shining curtain parted and one stubborn lock fell in her eyes. That rogue twist of hair was something that teased her often, but if it was an imperfection, it was one that only endeared her to Fíli all the more.

Before she could right the tendril herself, Fíli lifted his hand, brushing his fingertip very carefully over her small cheek and pushing her feather soft hair over her shoulder. He let his finger settle against her neck, but she grabbed him in a hurry, pulling him off of her skin, yet still keeping him close to her.

Before he could answer, her entire body shivered and shook and she pouted at him. Then she turned away. As if shaking water from her fingers, her hand flicked to the dark fireplace in the corner of Fíli’s chambers and she built him a fire flame by flame.

She felt that he was cold.

He laughed, immeasurably relieved that was all. He immediately stopped her waving arm.

“I’ll make a fire. Don’t tire yourself over me, I’ll do it myself.”

She frowned at him, gravely shaking her head as he crossed the room.

“Don’t give me that look! You know dwarves don’t feel the cold as you do. It’s not like I would let myself freeze over.”

She flew around him, waving over the stone cold bricks to warm them. Then she stopped in front of his eyes with a very unimpressed glare.

“All right, all right. Thank you for the reminder.”

Then she smiled, wriggled, and flew back to where he’d been sitting.

As he took the firewood from its rack and stacked the logs just so, he checked over his shoulder to assure himself that she hadn’t left in a flurry. But there she was, legs dangling and swinging from her spot on the right arm of his chair.

After singeing a part of his sleeve on the flame she’d ignited for him, he turned back to his work and said, “I’ve missed you, you know,” throwing out the confession before he lost his nerve. “But I knew you must have been busy. Fairies never seem to stop and rest, especially you. Not even for the honey cakes I’ve set out for you every night for the past weeks.”

He finally peeked over his shoulder and chuckled at her wide eyes.

She pointed to herself in question.

“Yes, they’re for you! I don’t know anyone else who garnishes their honey cakes with even more honey and then finishes them off with sweet milk. Do you?”

He expected a funny little glare from her, but didn’t receive any such thing. She was too grateful, too excited about her treats. She flew around them, as if deciding which one she wanted to indulge in first.

Once the fire was crackling, Fíli returned to his desk chair. He poured the small jug of milk into an even tinier cup for her- one that he’d had made special by the potter at the market. He’d felt the looks burning his back when he purchased it at the stall, but those and the extra work had all been worth it when his fairy first saw it. Specially made for her. And her sweet milk.

“There’s more where those came from so go ahead and enjoy,” Fíli said.

With two straining hands and trembling arms, she held out an entire honey cake and offered it to him. Only to save her strength, Fíli took it with thanks, and so as not to offend her, he took a bite when she did. As her small piece left her eyes rolling closed as only a delicious delicacy would, the other half of Fíli’s cake crumbled in his fingers as the sweetness dissolved on his tongue.

“Do you like them?” Fíli asked after a gulp.

In answer, Ivy burst into the air, twirling and spinning, sparkles and glowing fragments of pure joy following her flight. She flew in front of him and nodded.

Then suddenly, she laughed at him.

Before Fíli could lift a finger, she came close to him and her cool hands, like little raindrops, cleaned the mess of cake crumbles from his chin. He was amazed, she didn’t seem to mind the coarse hair of his beard on her delicate fingers. Not at all. In fact, if he could hazard a guess, he would have thought she lingered closeby, touching him, for longer than necessary. Unfortunately, she caught herself. Giving a funny salute, she flew back to her spot on the edge of the silver treat tray. Even when she dipped the next small chunk of cake into the jar of honey, her bite stayed intact all the way from the platter to her mouth. It must have been magic, Fíli thought.

“I think these are extra tasty tonight,” he said, popping the rest of his piece past his lips. Then he leaned down to her. “But very short. Care to help me with these crumbs?” he asked, wriggling his scrunched mouth.

In a blink, she flushed pink from her tiny toes to her forehead. But she laughed and tugged on the braided mustache that swung closest to her.

“Fine! I’ll do it myself,” he joked, enjoying her ringing giggle.

After a neat little swig of sweet milk, Ivy rose from her seat, holding her belly.

“All finished?”

She shook her head violently.

“Just a break then? Good. They’d call for a medic if we sent even a crumb back down to the kitchens. They all know no tray of sweets has ever survived the two of us.”

She glowed and left her spot next to the cakes. As always, she effortlessly identified the most recent bane of Fíli’s existence. It made him wonder if it was Ivy’s magic that helped her do it, or if it was simply a freakish skill. Either way, the moment she left the platter, she headed for the leather bound book Fíli had discarded before her arrival. She tapped the binding with her toe, questioning. But Fíli knew she’d seen it before and the little thing was fishing for a confession.

He also knew he’d been caught.

“I was just putting it away for the night.”

She sent a glare his way whose meaning was as clear as if the letters were written across her round little nose: Liar.

In truth, Fíli had forgotten all about the book and its contents the moment his fairy made her presence known. It was mystical how quickly his mind moved from hopelessness and exhaustion to joy and wonder whenever Ivy was near. He often asked himself if he had the same effect on her, but had yet to gather the courage to ask.

Her peculiar movement pulled him from his thoughts. She’d squatted down like a dwarf about to lift a cart brimming with stone and with all her might, lifted the book’s heavy leather cover. Then with silent, bare feet, she walked over the title page until she’d flipped the book open.

“Excuse me,” Fíli said with mock offense. “There are trade secrets in this book, you know. For no one’s view but my own.”

She rolled her eyes at him and lifted her finger, pointing to the end of the ribbon bookmark. She twirled her wrist and the light shooting out from under her tidy fingernails sent the pages whipping by as if caught in a windstorm. A moment later, the pages fell flat.

The place left open was riddled with smear marks and ink blotches, scrawled notes and words that had been crossed out with enough force to scratch the next few pages.

Her eyebrow crooked like the roof of a village house, accusing Fíli of the mess.

“Ruling a kingdom isn’t easy,” he explained with a shrug. “Things get a little… untidy.”

Ivy’s lip quirked and she leaned down to skim her hand across the page under her feet. A rippling wave of fresh magic traveled across the paper from Ivy’s toes out to the corner edges, continuing through the air until it hit Fíli’s nose- that light, unique scent he’d always associated with his fairy. It immediately relaxed him, giving him peace wherever the information hidden in that book stole it away.

When the wave cleared, Fíli saw that his entries were organized anew. The spills and blots had vanished, leaving only what he’d intended in their place. Even his notes were left in the margins, now neat and crisp, with not a thought lost. But Ivy’s work hadn’t stopped at one page. Every section was free of crimps or bends, the cover was dusted and the binding was flawlessly refinished all in one singular moment.

It was astonishing.

“Oh, Ive,” Fíli said, sighing out the rarely used nickname he had for her. From where he stood, he could see the pages were now smooth and soft as silk and he couldn’t help but touch them, running his comparatively rough fingertips over the center of the open book where the pages met. He took a corner and flipped through the last sheets, listening to the soft flaps that rang through the room- a noise that reminded him of the sound of Ivy’s rustling wings flying toward him. This torturous book was now bright and clean with a fairy’s mark.

The best part, however, was the scent left behind, pooling in its pores- that of magic, of his friend, of her belief in him.

Fíli held out his hand and Ivy flew to it.

“I don’t think I’ll mind this work as much anymore. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She bowed, flashing her petal skirt with a flourish.

Just as Fíli reached for the neatened pages again, Ivy snapped the book closed with a turn of her wrist, almost trapping his hand inside.

“Hey!” he laughed, startled from his daze. “I wanted to admire your handiwork!”

Once over her giggles, she planted her fists on her hips and with a demanding stare, pointed to the empty spot in the shelf where the hardcover belonged overnight. A stomp of her foot practically shouted: NOW.

“All right! I’m putting it away.” He let Ivy dismount onto the silver cake platter and did as he was told, with a dwarfling’s grin wide on his lips. When he’d tucked the book into place, Fíli ran a finger down the soft, faultless binding with a whistle.

“A craft any dwarf would be proud of.”

When he looked over his shoulder Ivy was watching him- carefully and contently admiring him. Even romantically, if Fíli was brave enough to use the word.

While he had her undivided attention, he winked at her, just as a tease to make her flood that pretty shade of pink. As a retort, she stole a sweet cake from his side of the platter and took a violent bite.

With a chuckle, Fíli plopped into his chair and watched her as he felt the exhaustion sneak into his stubborn muscles and his overstretched mind. He still had a sliver of energy, however, to wonder if his fairy’s glow had grown more intense after this time spent together. He could see it in her eyes. Though they were as dark as fertile soil, they were round and shining in the tireless candlelight she brought to the chambers. And now as she watched him, they were fearless in their gaze and brimming with affection in their softness.

Yet, despite it all, Fíli knew they were both aware that their visit couldn’t last much longer.

She rose and brushed the non existent crumbs from the purple petals of her dress, letting her wings flutter to life.

Fíli straightened in a rush at her movement, saying exactly what had been on his mind in a soft, sleepy voice. “I will never know how you always find a way to comfort me. Somehow, you’ve done it again, my friend. Thank you.”

She beamed, her smile like a crescent moon flipped on its side in the night.

“Will you visit me again?” Fíli asked.

She nodded.

He leaned to her, taking her tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger. “Please don’t let too much time pass before you do.”

Her beating wings stuttered for a moment and her luminous aureola dimmed. Her twinge of sadness squeezed Fíli’s heart, strangling it like a thirsty vine, and he wished he’d never spoken so selfishly. But before he could take his words back, she fluttered up to his face and placed a feather light kiss on his cheek as her goodbye. Then she smiled, eyes brimming with clear sparkle and so many words unspoken.

With a wave of her hand, she beckoned him to follow her lead across the room. As she did at the end of every visit, she flew in neat ringlets through the air above his bed, dropping warmth, rest, and peace into the furs in the form of glistening sparkles like fresh pollen from her own flora. This ritual of theirs left magic on Fíli’s pillow for days to come. It would give him restful sleep, even with the weight of his kingdom on his shoulders. Her magic even seemed to quell the loneliness that often pulled at his heart. She always left a piece of herself with him.

“You are far too kind to me, Ive,” Fíli said to her, standing next to the bed, close to her one last time before her departure. “Too generous-”

The blankets below him flew up and covered his head in a magical swoop. A fairy’s doing.

“Fine! No more compliments!” Fíli cried, untangling himself. “But how am I not to, when you-”

With the covers back where they belonged, he was free to look around the room. The empty room. She’d gone.

In his defeated search for her, he found a gift left for him on his bedside table. A billowing purple flower with feather-like petals reminiscent of her dress sat in the now dim candle light. Curled around the deep green stem was a note that he fumbled to open with his round fingertips. When he pulled it flat, that same scent- the scent of magic, of his fairy- flew to his nose in a flurry and a message was illuminated.

Soon.

***

Taglist: @emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @fire-flv @nerdbirdsworld @dashesofink @winchesterandpie @tumblinglringlring @specialagentsnark @karlthecat15722 @sagabriar @marymegger @aidan-kili-mitchell-forever @cassiabaggins @guardianofrivendell @lathalea @laurfilijames @moniamoure @dark-angel-is-back @burningcoffeetimetravel @justfollowtheroad @vem-vem-writes @animallover81 @luckyluckyjesse

#fili #fili x oc #oc #fili x ivy #dwarves #fairies #dwarf #fairy #the hobbit #the hobbit fandom #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfic #oc:ivy

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dreamii-yume · 4 years

Text

New Episode Update Let’s GOO!!!

Warning : This is just Yume having a mental breakdown, seriously. This episode update was WHACK.

~ MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 68-75 ~

I know we ain’t participating and all but the game reminding you that there’s 10 minutes left to prepare is seriously bad for my heart.

Aah, shiet. Vil is still hurt.

He still has small wounds and scratches that he hid make up. Daddy, I’m worried.

Apparently, yeah, I’m not the only one cause my homeboy, Epel just asked to switch the center role with Vil. THE CONFIDENCE.

Aw, he’s worried about him falling over during stage (And make the performance look bad) Come on, Epel just be honest-

...He finally became the ideal poisoned apple that Vil wanted, huh?

Vil being proud a mom.

But the queen inside him is STRONG.

He’ll embrace the villain in him, OUR QUEEN CAN STILL GO. INJURED, WHO?

...AAND he proceeds to roast Epel again lol Typical Vil.

I love how Epel just accepted a nickname like “Doku Ringo-chan” lol It’s so cute, senior-junior relationship goals right there.

HERE WE GO.

Everyone is actually really confident hahaha

I really wish Deuce’s mom, Ace’s brother, Jamil’s sister, and Vil’s dad were here in person to watch.

HECK I WANT KALIM’S WHOLE FAMILY HERE WHY NOT

T-THEY’RE REALLY LETTING US HEAR THE FULL SONG.

IS THAT JAMIL RAPPING.

Look at Jamil’s solo SD dancing. LOOK AT IT.

I really fucking love Vil’s singing voice aaa

HIS VOICE IS SO GOOD.

Album when disney.

Is Vil okay.

...aight im hearing some high quality panting here

...dont mind me listening to it a bit too much...

...they’re going to be great reference for some spicy- leave me alone

Vil panting is making me feel SOMETHING.

ANYWAY. THE CROWD IS A MOOD.

IS VIL OKAY.

Unmei no megami is giving me idia ptsd here.

Heartslabyul Senpais are watching their kids, looking all proud *sniff

Oh god, after playing Obey Me, it just occurred to me how similar Cater and Asmodeus’ voices are...

Watch these Senpai dorks act like Ace and Deuce’s second family. Trey being the dad, Riddle being the mom, and Cater being the supportive big bro. It’s so beautiful.

Riddle’s voice is a lot more softer now, I just realized...It’s so soothing...

God i miss u too octavinelle never change

Yeah, why tf did Floyd not audition for this

Bro, can you imagine Nobuhiko Okamoto in the squad as well??? IMAGINE-

Of course, he wasn’t in the mood back then. Of course. Why did i even ask.

IMAGINE FLOYD BEING IN VDC NEXT YEAR.

Omg i miss u too octavinelle never change

Azul’s gonna overblot again with Floyd’s marketing skills lol

Jade coming in like welp i guess thats that. Too bad, huh Azul?

GOD i miss u too octavinelle never change

SAVANA BITCHES HI

I wonder if these mfs knew that Vil just overblotted and malmal was the one who fixed the stage lol

oooh Leona’s sus about something he a sharp boi

Speak up my guy—

still so weird leona taking his job seriously

Malleus looking happier seeing this performance rather than Lilia’s lol

I miss the simpery in Sebek

Silver’s not in the verge of falling into a coma for once wow

Chenya’s so cute.

AND WE’RE BACK TO CUTE HEIGH HO TEAM

fcking shotacons man...im not one to talk

Aw, they didn’t show Neige performance...

The simping in the crowd is a MASSIVE mood.

WHO WINS TELL ME

These night raven fuckers better vote for us and not pull a “oh shie my hand slipped lololol” i swear to god- im gonna throw hands

*me holding my phone and pretending to vote as well

Suspense music intensifies be like-

HAAA

BOIS, ITS ONE VOTE DIFFERENCE WHO IS IT AAAA

WHAT.

HOW DARE- HOW!? HOW DID WE LOSE!?

WE LOST BY ONE VOTE!?

EVERYONE’S SO SHOCKED LOL

vil pls dont overblot again-

Noooo grim’s tuna cans-

WE REALLY LOST TO A LEGIT KIDS SONG.

These children do not have the right to be this cute. I wanna take Timmy, Toby, and Shelpie home.

I swear to god one of these dwarves sounds like Cheka lol Is it Toby?

EPEEELLLL DONT CRRYYYY

KALIMMMM DONT CRRYYYY

KALIM HAVING THE AUDACITY TO SOUNDING LIKE A BIG BROTHER AND THEN CRYING HIS OWN RIGHT AFTER LOLOLOL

I HATE THIS EPISODE YALL MADE MY TWO BOIS CRY IM FIGHTING THIS EPISODE. BURN THIS.

This background music too though im deeeeddd

KALIM IM SO SORRY FOR MAKING A SINFIC ABOUT YOU PLS DONT CRY-

Jamil impressed about Vil being “calm” and Vil just going “h e h. you dont even know.”

....ha...

Monsieur Rook. WHAT did you say.

ROOK VOTED FOR ROYAL SWORD. Are you kidding me. You snek how could you- i loved you

WHAT DID I SAY- Ya’ll night raven fuckers shall not slip by their fingers when voting rook.

Vil is in the brink of passing out aaaaa

I have never heard Ace this pissed before whoa- lol he sounds like Deuce in his delinquent mode

Aw...Rook felt that Neige’s performance carries a stronger bond than theirs :’( it’s hard to put the blame on him when he’s saying all these stuff

It’s just like what they said in the past episodes that it’s really hard voting for your own team when you know the opposing team is better.

Aww...He just wanted Vil to believe in himself more...Rook is such a best man. Im crying-

Oh noooo is Vil gonna cry too nooo- daddy turned to baby really quick SOMEONE GIVE HIM AN EMERGENCY HUG

Well- at least...at least the 100 year record of not being able to win is still going, yeah? Um...bad joke? Sorry, i’ll see myself out-

NEIGE NOT NOW AND YOUR VII-KUN BULLSHIT- we’re having a moment here

Neige is such sweetheart but aaaahh— This makes it worse, we can’t even hate him aaa—

OMG JUST WHEN I THOUGHT THINGS COULDN’T- AAAAA

MONSIEUR ROOK. YOU’RE A FAN OF NEIGE!?

MOTHERFUCKER just got exposed by Neige himself lol

Going to Neige’s shake hand events, sending him letters, buying all his merch and shie- HE’S A FULL BLOWN NEIGE STAN

WTF YOU SNEK GET OUT OF THIS SCHOOL-

OOOOHHH THAT FUCKING ALBUM- HIS “LIFE’S WORK” or whatever bullshit IS FULL OF NEIGE

...actually- my japanese is lacking- im not sure lol what is a ブロマイド??? Lol I feel like a clown.

Rook is sweating profusely LOL

...what do you have to say for yourself, monsieur rook.

Wait- huh is that-

IS HE GONNA CRY-

WHY IS EVERYONE CRYING!??!?!?!

HE’S SILENTLY CRYING AS HE INTRODUCED HIMSELF TO NEIGE WHAT. THE. FUCK IS THIS EPISODE.

Neige fanclub??? Eternal Snow??? What kind of creepy-ass- OH, HE EVEN HAS A MEMBERSHIP NUMBER TOO-

Props to Neige with his :) expression unfaltering.

I’m- I’m speechless.

Vil is just looking down at Rook in disappointment like- “you’re more pathetic than I am”

Queen just went “I think you need this handkerchief more than I do now” THAT’S RIGHT. REPENT MOTHERFUCKER.

Rook crying is cursed.

But damn, I’m kinda liking this new relationship this bitchy relationship they have

Neige just dragged everyone’s ass back on stage and his snow white energy just said “LETS ALL BE FRIENDS AND SING”

NEIGE IS FUCKING GREAT- HE REALLY DID GOT THESE BITCHES TO SING HEIGH HO LOL

ACE’S RELUCTANT SINGING AND DEUCE LOOKING LIKE HE’S HAVING FUN

KALIM IS SUCH A MOOD, SINGING EVEN WITHOUT KNOWING THE LYRICS AND JAMIL JUST HAVING THAT “i want to die” ENERGY

AIGHT. ROOK IS HAVING WAY TOO MUCH FUN AND EPEL IS TRYING HIS BEST. HE’S SO CUTE-

OMG NEIGE AND VIL HAVING SUCH GOOD HARMONY—

YAHOO Y A H O O TANOSHIINDA~~

YA’LL SURE ABOUT GIVING ME THIS BLESSED MOMENT??

What a somewhat happy ending, even though Rook just backstabbed us I’m crying Beauté 100 points!!!

LOL Vil realizing he’s having fun singing with Neige- “SOMEONE JUST END ME RIGHT NOW-“ The desperation in his voice-

I love how Neige’s yahoo yahoo is messing with everyone’s head, even Vil wants to pass out lol

haha Crowley is so depressed lol

WHA- WHO-

HEADMASTER OF ROYAL SWORD!?

He looks like your typical grandpa- and his outfit looks like that one mickey mouse wizard outfit but blue—

Old man just went “we won lol” just to piss Crowley off I like this guy’s energy already-

Crowley being most likely as old as this guy—

ooohh this man just sensed something in this stage- Leona did too, didn’t he???

* Damn. Crowley talking so fast sounds like he’s making a load of bullshit lol

Anyway, I’m just glad that it’s not mickey mouse who’s the headmaster— I would’ve lost my shit.

We’re back in our dorms and I forgot that the squad doesn’t live with us anymore. It’s suddenly so lonely now...

Grim is getting the yahoo yahoo ptsd too lol it’s too goddamn catchy

oooohh shiet- mickey is calling us again

YES we finally got a good picture of this motherfucker

It seems like nothing is disrupting our communication this time, so MC thought to call Grim but—

Grim is not here.

Uuhhh...Grim? Where you’ve gone??? We’re getting flashbacks of the first parts of the game.

We went out to find Grim and HE’S CHOMPING ON ANOTHER BLACK STONE ON THE STAGE-

GRIM SPIT THAT OUT YOU LOOK TERRIFYING

AAAAAHH GRIM HAS GONE FERAL— He’s attacking US

Is this because we didn’t win his tuna canss nooo

NoOO SWEET BABY COME BACK.

Legit I’m sad, please baby don’t overblot like this...

He learned a new move though- SCRATCH

Ooh— We’re seeing some Ignihyde scenes here~

P U H I H I

Idia getting a lot of emails from bigshot companies whoa—

THAT OLYMPUS—?! EXCUSE ME??? Ortho what- Are we finally getting that Hercules episode—

Damn getting a hot chance in olympus only to put them down the recycling bin oof— Idia why edit : Yume was informed that olympus is kind of a company that sponsored VDC sorry she was mind-fucked at this moment and the ability to understand proper Japanese just went whoosh lol Thanks to @starshiningsirius for pointing it out for Yume~ ♥︎ HONESTLY YUME’S JUST GONNA WAIT FOR ACTUAL PROFESSIONAL TRANSLATORS AT THIS POINT LOL Don’t trust me for important situation too much lol

Aaaahh...We’re getting this shut-in out of his room in the next episode, are we?

And that concludes the whole Pomefiore Episode! JESUS CHRIST 75 CHAPTERS ALL IN ALL!? How long is the Ignihyde chapter going to be, huh!?

This was a really, really fun episode lol I’d consider this a fan service episode actually cause of all the things we get to experience— The singing, dancing, and the new songs, THE DRAMA. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

But then, the plot thickens, no? What’s going to happen to Grim? In the Ignihyde episode? And those reoccurring memories of us? And our relationship with Tsunotarou lol ALSO WE NEVER REALLY DID FIND OUT WHAT ROOK’S UNIQUE MAGIC IS. DISNEY EXPLAIN—

Thanks for reading this shitpost of Yume losing her shiet lol See you all in the Ignihyde Episode~ ❤

#twisted wonderland #spoilers #episode 5 #Talk with Yume

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elizabeethan · 3 years

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Never Nothing- Extra # 2

Another little extra for one of my favorite series!! Soft domestic fluff meets angst... There will be a follow up to this one, eventually.

For @the-darkdragonfly who wanted this to be a 12 part series… we’re halfway there baby

Rated T, mostly for language

~4300 words

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Read the rest of the series

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~~~~

“Stop it.”

“I’m only trying--”

“No, stop it.”

“My love, if you’d just--”

“I don’t want to!”

“--you may find that you feel better.”

“I won’t. I will never feel better, ever, for as long as I live. I will feel exactly this horrible every second for the rest of my miserable life.”

Killian sighs softly, smiling at her despite how much it pisses her off and running his hand through her hair. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so uncomfortable.”

“Having a baby in August is not a good plan.”

“No,” he agrees. “I’m sure you must be feeling rather miserable.”

She nods, pouting. “Extremely miserable.”

He softly kisses the tip of her nose, taking out the sunscreen he’s been begging her to wear and squirting some into his hands. “Now, just imagine how hot you’d be if we were still in Phoenix.”

“Shut up,” she grumbles, leaning forward just enough for him to get her back.

“You’re the one who suggested we come to the beach.”

She glares up at him, her lips pressed into a tight line and her brows covering her eyes almost completely. “You’re on thin ice.”

“I think you’ll find there’s no ice this time of year, my darling. It’s very hot out; it would melt.”

He can’t blame her for being miserable. At 37 weeks pregnant in late July, she can’t seem to ever get comfortable. Her back hurts her endlessly, her hips are sore, she’s been suffering with horrible heartburn, and the mood swings are difficult to keep up with.

He wouldn’t have it any other way, though.

“Why don’t we get into the water? A bit of buoyancy is sure to help your back.”

She sighs in defeat and says, “I’ll probably just get sea sick. Or eaten by a shark. Or stung by a jellyfish.”

He kisses her nose once more and takes her hand, hoisting her off of the chaise lounge and placing his palm on the small of her back where he knows she’s sore. “I’ll fight off the sharks and the jellyfish, my love.”

“Promise?” she asks as she waddles towards the shore with him.

“Of course.”

She squeals as she tries to get into the chilly water, but once they’re in and she’s used to the cold, she relaxes a bit. His heart flutters when she leans back against his chest, letting him bear her weight as he runs his hand along her bump and presses a kiss to her shoulder.

Feeling her pressed against him makes the blood rush through his veins, and he’s glad for the cold water keeping any obvious signs of his arousal at bay. He’s always found her unbelievably sexy, but seeing her in her yellow bikini, her bump on full display, is enough for him to have almost kept her home today.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she grumbles, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the waves. “And no, we’re not doing it in the ocean.”

“I would perish at the thought of sullying your purity on a public beach, love.”

“Purity,” she scoffs. “I’m knocked up at 22. Nothing pure about it.”

He kisses her neck, then her cheek, and holds her close to himself, his bare wrist pressed to the side of her belly and his hand holding it tenderly. “We've talked about this, love,” he murmurs against her skin. “How this child has come to be is not important. What’s important is how fiercely the two of us love him.”

“I know,” she agrees softly, dropping her head to his shoulder and sighing as she lets herself relax further into his hold and into the gentle current of the sea. “I just wish… sometimes I just wish you were his dad.”

He sways the two of them together gently, letting the waves carry them, and reminds her, “I fully intend to be. Biology isn’t really a factor here, my love.”

She hums happily as she lets him support every ounce of her, effectively floating just below the surface with him holding her up. “I just feel… I love this baby more than anything. I don’t regret having him, I just kind of wish you'd been the one to knock me up.”

“Me too,” he laughs, “but it’s alright, because this child will be as much my son as any that I sire.”

“I love you. Sorry I’m a bitch.”

“You’re the furthest thing from it, darling. I’ll not hear you talking about yourself in such a way.”

She hums again and shrugs. “I could probably chill out a bit. I’ve been pretty snappy.”

“Well, you’re nine months pregnant.”

“Maybe I’ll keep being bitchy after the baby’s born.”

“I hope so. I like you when you’re fired up.”

She lies in his arms for a while, content to float almost weightlessly in the water as the pressure of the babe she carries is finally relieved. He feels the lad kicking about beneath the water, likely entranced by the dancing waves, and chuckles softly each time he gets a strike to his palm.

“What would you like for dinner, my love?” he asks after a long silence falls between them.

“Chinese food,” she answers immediately.

“That’s a nice dream. What do you actually want, Miss High Blood Pressure?”

“Baaaabe,” she groans, tossing her head back against his shoulder again and gripping his forearms. “I don’t want grilled chicken.”

“You don’t have to have grilled chicken. We can stop for fish.”

“The baby wants lo mein.”

“He can have some after he’s born and his mother isn’t at risk for preeclampsia.”

She grumbles some more, her words incoherent and inaudible over the sound of the water lapping around them. “Chicken,” she finally concedes. “But only if you make that sauce you made last week.”

With a snort, he asks, “you mean the one with the bacon in it?”

“That’s the one.”

“Alright, love. Let’s get you out of the water before you give birth to a raisin.”

“You’ve gotta work on your dad jokes.”

~~~~

The days seem to be getting longer and longer, time refusing to pass at a normal pace as she lives in constant torture and betrayal of her own body. She loves being pregnant, honestly, but it’s becoming a bit tiring. The baby she’s hauling around is heavy, and her back is killing her. Killian’s being very wary of her slightly elevated blood pressure when all she wants is Chinese food and chicken nuggets. Her mom still remembers her days as a perinatal nurse and won’t stop accidentally scaring her when she talks about what she’s seen during labor.

Killian’s looking forward to the delivery, and she tries not to let that piss her off. Of course, she’s more than elated to see him so excited for their child to be born, and she’s so lucky to have a partner who will be there for her throughout the whole thing. But each time he tries to show her something he’s read in a book, or a breathing exercise they can try together during contractions, she wants to chuck something at him. After all, she doesn’t believe that he’s truly ready for what her body will be doing in just a few short weeks.

“During a contraction, I can try to massage your lower back if you’re standing. How does that sound?”

“Standing?” she asks doubtfully. “I can barely stand during cramps.”

“Don’t let him fool you; the massages don’t help,” Granny says ominously while she places her plate before her. While he’s been very strict about her diet, Killian can’t keep her from getting her French toast from Granny’s on Sunday mornings.

“And did you have a walking epidural when you delivered in the Enchanted Forest, Granny?” he asks, his tone sarcastic.

She rolls her eyes as she places his eggs in front of him.

Taking a deep breath with her eyes squeezed shut, Emma places her hand on the top of her bump as a zip of hot pain rushes up her chest and into her throat. Killian’s silent and still as he watches her, holding his fork above his plate as his brows furrow while she waits for it to pass. Once the pain subsides, he asks, “alright?”

“Heartburn,” she breathes. He pushes her glass of water towards her encouragingly as she breathes steadily. “Damn.”

“It won’t be long, love.”

“Yeah, he better make an appearance soon. I wanna meet him so bad, and I wouldn’t mind if the indigestion went away.”

“Morning,” Ruby says happily as she refills Killian’s mug, much to Emma’s jealous vexation.

“Morning Ruby. What’s the report for this week?” he asks, happily going along with her perception of herself as the town crier.

“Not much, but there’s someone new in town. Can you believe that? The dwarves are doing some research to find out if that means we can leave.”

“Well, that will certainly be interesting,” he agrees, giving Emma a happy smile. They haven’t even bothered to attempt to leave themselves, although it’s suspected that they can.

“And everyone is excited to have a newcomer.”

“I’m sure he must be a really interesting character, what with him wanting to come to Storybrooke.”

Emma snorts, digging into her breakfast once her least favorite pregnancy symptom subsides completely.

“I haven’t met him, but I’ve heard he is kind of an ass.”

Moments later, her parents bustle into the diner and greet her with a broad smile as they approach them. “Hi honey!” her mom says happily.

“Morning,” she smiles.

“How are you feeling?” she asks as she and David scoot the two of them down in their booths. “How’s my sweet little grandson?”

Mary Margaret places a gentle hand over Emma’s bump and she stiffens just a bit. It always feels weird to have anyone but Killian put their hands on her belly. “Okay. He keeps flopping around and giving me heartburn.”

She hums in understanding, patting her belly. “Have you heard about someone new being in town?”

“We were just briefed by Ruby,” Killian answers.

“Well, I met him very briefly. He’s handsome and very charming.”

“I don’t think Emma or Hook care much about that, Snow,” David says, and Emma nods.

“Well, I heard he’s coming here for breakfast today. Isn’t that exciting? You two won’t be the newcomers anymore.”

Emma laughs and nods through another bite. “I guess that’s true.”

They continue to chat through their meal, David talking about his job as an animal control officer. Apparently, they’re thinking about adopting a dog he’d rescued a week ago, and Emma’s only seen him beam like this a few times in the short time she’s known him. Things are good, the French toast isn’t giving her heartburn, she thinks she’s going to have a good day.

Until the bell above the door rings.

And he walks in.

She takes in a gasping breath, her eyes bugging out of her head as she swings her head away from the door. “Alright?” Killian asks her softly, leaning over the table and taking her hand.

She shakes her head and feels his body go rigid with panic. If they weren’t trapped in the booth by her parents, she would grab his hand and run out the back door of the diner to escape him.

“Heartburn?” Killian asks softly, not yet alerting her parents of her sudden shift in mood. “Braxton Hicks? Contractions?!”

“No,” she croaks.

“What is it, angel? Talk to me.”

She chances a look towards the door and sees him talking with Ruby, probably flirting with her shamelessly. Then, she looks back at Killian and whispers, “Neal.”

He raises a brow in thought and then she watches as the pieces of the puzzle click into place. He nods once, looking towards the door and grimacing. Ruby starts to guide Neal towards a table and Mary Margaret gives him a friendly, excited wave before Emma can stop her. She wants to put her head through the table; maybe he won’t see her if she does that.

The only saving grace is the fact that she can spread her legs out and tuck her bump under the table. The last thing she wants right now is for him to find out that he fertilized the egg that became her son.

“Mary Margaret, right? Hi,” he greets casually. “And this must be your husband, and--”

He’s staring, but not at her. He’s gaping at Killian.

“What the… Hook?”

Killian looks as baffled as Emma must, and he gives her a look of confusion that tells her he has no idea what’s going on. Only, when he looks at her, so does Neal.

“Emma?!”

“You two know each other?”

“Oh my god,” she grumbles, dropping her head to her folded arms on the table. She’d pushed her plate away, unable to eat anything more as the stress of her sperm donor making an appearance in her life eats away at her.

“Darling, perhaps we should--” Before he can continue, she kicks him under the table, not wishing to let Neal know anything personal about her, especially the fact that she and Killian are together and that she’s expecting a baby in a few weeks.

“Darling? Are you two, like, dating or something?”

“Emma and Ho-- Killian live together,” her mother supplies, and Emma rolls her eyes.

“Huh,” Neal says in response. “You sure do move on fast.”

“Mate, that’s not--”

“I’m not your mate, pirate.”

Killian chuckles awkwardly and asks, “do we know each other?”

Neal looks like he’s ready to snap, perhaps jump across the table and strangle Killian at his cocky response, but he’s interrupted by the door opening again and Mr. Gold entering the diner. “Bae,” he calls, not yet taking notice of what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. “What are you doing?”

“Bae,” Killian breathes, staring up at Neal and Mr. Gold in astonishment. “You… you’re Neal?”

“What is going on?” Emma asks through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to escape. The position she’s put herself in in order to hide her bump is horribly uncomfortable on her back (and she probably looks ridiculous), and all she wants to do now is go home and sit on her new couch.

“What’s going on is your boyfriend is a piece of shit,” Neal spits at her. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“What, like I picked you? Lot of good that did me, what with the police, and the court hearings, and the community service, and the--”

“Honey… This is Neal? I thought your name was Bae.”

“It was,” Neal grumbles back, turning towards his father and then back to Emma. “You told your parents about me?”

“Well, she kind of had to,” David responds condescendingly. “What with the--”

“Dad. Please stop.”

“The what?”

“Son, let’s go enjoy our breakfast and leave the family drama for later.”

The baby starts wiggling just as another bout of heartburn curses her, and she hisses, pushing her fist against her chest and leaning forward even more until she’s in an awkward position. “Honey, you need some tums. I told you, they’re safe for the ba--”

“I’m fine,” she seethes, swallowing and breathing deeply through the feeling of lava crawling up her throat. She wants to leave so badly, but the moment she moves to stand, her pregnancy will become more than obvious.

“Family drama,” Neal laughs. “That’s rich, isn’t it, Hook? First my mom and now my girlfriend?”

Emma glares up at him, practicing her mom-look. “Go away,” she insists.

He scoffs and says, “Ems, come on. Let's get you out of here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Bae is Neal?” Killian asks through continued astonishment, looking down at his hand with his mouth agape, his brows furrowed.

“Stop calling me that,” Neal snaps. “You lost your right to talk to me when you killed my mother and sold me to Pan.”

Emma knows this isn’t true; Killian told her the story about the Crocodile murdering his first love in front of him. He told her about how he found her son years later and wanted to raise him as his own. She just had no idea that her son was… Neal. Evidently, Killian didn’t either.

“Neal, go away. Leave us alone like you left me to rot.”

“I did that for your own good. You had to break the curse.”

“Right,” she scoffs. She wants nothing more than to rub in his face the fact that he abandoned her, homeless and poor and pregnant, but she holds in her anger. Truthfully, Neal leaving was one of the better things to have happened to her. It gave her Killian and their baby. It brought her to her family. It helped her find out who she is.

Those facts don't make his betrayal sting any less, though.

“Killian, maybe you should take Emma home,” her mother suggests through the haze of anger and confusion surrounding the table. He looks up at Snow, his jaw still dropped towards the floor and his eyes swimming with the guilt of his past, and nods.

“Aye,” he agrees, shaking his head and taking Emma’s hands. “Come, love. Let’s sail away.”

She wants nothing more than to agree, to nod and smile at him, taking his hands and letting him lead her out of the diner, but Neal remains firmly planted outside of their booth. If she stands now, she’ll reveal herself. She looks at Killian meaningfully with wide eyes, then glances down towards her belly and up in Neal’s direction.

He understands effortlessly and turns towards Neal, asking, “do you mind, mate? We’d like to head out.”

Neal rolls his eyes and concedes, stepping away from their booth and towards his father, and Mary Margaret and David stand to give them a path out of their seats. They're almost home free-- she can see the light at the end of the diner-- Killian leading the way and effectively hiding the evidence of her pregnancy. Or so she thinks.

Just as Killian’s hand reaches the door, about to push it open and gain their sweet escape, Ruby cuts them off with an excited greeting to Emma, reaching to give her a hug as she usually does and asking, “how’s my favorite little nephew doing? What is it now; three weeks to go?”

Emma freezes, eyes wide and face pale as Killian’s back goes stiff in front of her. The diner is silent, the early breakfast rush long over, and she knows Neal heard her. It’s confirmed when she hears the scratch of the chair against the floor as he stands and calls, “what, so he knocked you up, too? What a stand-up guy.”

The blood in her veins chills at his statements. Her jaw starts hurting with how forcefully she’s clenching it. She watches Killian turn around and fears that he’s going to confront Neal with the truth. In reality, though, he turns and looks only at her, taking her hands in his easily despite the fact that one is missing, courtesy of her ex’s father. “It’s alright,” he whispers, showing her just how much he understands her. Showing her that he can tell exactly what she’s thinking; can read the fear in her eyes at the thought of Neal finding out that this child is technically a part of him. “We can go,” he tells her.

She can’t help but to spin around, half turning to face Neal with tearfilled eyes, looking at him just once so that she can remind herself of the mistakes she’s made in her past. So that she can compare the despair he brought her with the joy that Killian brings so effortlessly. But it’s a mistake. She watches as his face falls, seemingly seeing just how pregnant she really is.

“Is that… are you…” He looks up at the ceiling, flexing his fingers as if counting on them. Counting the months since they were last together. Realizing it’s been almost nine months since their last encounter. Taking in just how large her bump is. “Emma…?”

She should just turn around and leave, or ignore him; refuse to give attention to his thoughts so that she doesn't spur them on. But instead, she lets out a choked sob and buries her face in her hands as her tears flow freely.

Killian’s hand is on her back immediately, running soothing circles along her skin as he moves to stand in front of her and blocks her view of the rest of the world, consuming her with only his ocean-blue eyes. “It’s alright,” he whispers again.

“Did she say three weeks left? Is that…”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, and although Neal’s voice cuts through the air between them like a knife, all she sees is Killian.

“I wanna go home,” she cries softly, clinging to his hand and hook.

“We will,” he promises.

“Emma, is that my kid?”

She can’t respond. All she can do is tilt her body slightly so that she’s looking past Killian’s right into Neal’s eyes, showing him the truth in her own. She can’t tell him with words that he fathered a child with her, but she knows that the look on her face is enough confirmation when his own pales and he drops back down in his chair.

He only stays there for a second before forcefully standing again, the chair colliding with the floor. Gold begs, “Bae,” reaching his hand towards his son, and Neal violently rips away from his father.

“Don’t!” He shouts. “Fuck.”

Before anyone can say anything, Neal is stalking towards Emma and Killian, and she almost feels nervous for a second, until he brushes past the two of them and slams his way out the door.

~~~~

Her lip trembles as he shuts the door, and she spins into his arms the second he locks it, bursting into tears easily. “He’s gonna take him,” she cries.

“Emma, no. That isn’t going to happen, love.”

She sobs some more, gripping his shirt with white knuckles, nodding into his neck and pulling him as close to herself as she possibly can with the bump between them. “He is.”

“You saw his face when he found out, darling. He has no interest. He’s already running.”

“Everything was so perfect. Now it’s ruined.”

“Nothing is ruined, my love,” he argues. “What makes you even say that?”

She shudders in his arms, whimpering pathetically as the hormones take over and the fear of losing her child consumes her. “I wanted--” she chokes. “I wanted you to be his dad.”

When he pulls away from her, forcing her face from his neck, she cries out again, pained at the thought that she’s losing him, too. “Angel,” he murmurs softly, soothingly. “I am his dad. Perhaps the lad will simply be lucky enough to have two.”

The violence behind her choked breathing is palpable between the two of them, showing him just how distraught she truly is as she asks, “you mean-- you mean you’re not leaving?”

“You silly thing,” he breathes through a gentle laugh, pressing their foreheads together. “Do you really believe that that fool coming into our lives will sway me? I love you. Both of you.”

Her bottom lip trembles again as his hand slides along the side of her belly, the baby kicking against his palm in greeting. The fact that he didn’t stir when faced with his biological father doesn’t get past her as he wiggles against his dad lovingly. She lets out one last soft, whimpering sob and sniffles before saying, “I love you. We both love you.”

He kisses her gently despite the tears and snot, making her laugh lightly. “Bae knows what it is to have an absent father, love. I’m… I’m truly shocked to know that the boy who lived on my ship all those years ago has done this to you. But I do believe that, now that he knows, he’ll do what he can to support you and the little lad. I believe he’ll do the right thing.”

“Maybe I don’t want him to,” she pouts.

He smiles, cupping her cheek, and says, “that’s valid. And I know you're scared. But we’ll just have to sort out what’s best for the little one.”

With a heaving sigh, she drops her forehead to his chest and shuts her eyes. “Right now, what’s best for the little one is a nap.”

“It’s only 10:30,” he jests, but despite his argument, he places his hand on the small of her back and guides her towards their bedroom. “Need a snack?”

“More French toast.”

“No. An apple.”

“Never mind,” she grumbles, pouting as she collapses on the bed and holds up her feet until he starts pulling her sandals off. He shakes his head as he laughs lightly, running his thumb over her swollen feet and kissing her cankles. “Killian?” she whispers quietly.

“Aye, love?” he asks, almost as softly as he crawls up towards her and helps her lean back onto the bed.

She grunts unattractively as her swollen body flops like a fish across the mattress, drawing a soft smile from his lips. “I’m scared,” she whispers when his front wraps around her back.

“Aye, love. I know.” His hand slides across her giant bump, the baby kicking him gently, and kisses just behind her ear. “But you’re going to be fantastic. You’re so strong, and smart, and capable of anything you set your mind to.”

“Then why can’t I just magic him out of here?”

“Bae?” he asks with a surprised laugh.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying since we got home.”

“You are a silly thing. And I love you very much.”

With a contented hum, she pulls him closer to her despite the heat. “I love you, but let me sleep now.”

“As you wish, my angel.”

~~~~

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx

#Never Nothing #extra #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #never nothing ff #cs fluff #cs angst

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 3 years

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Day 5 Birthday Plot Bunnies 2

If you want this to become my next WIP, be sure to shower it with lots of love!! 🥰 💖 All the story starters will be linked back to this masterpost.

Title: For the Love of My Husband

Summary: Bilbo is a thief and a conman who has tricked Thorin, Crown Prince of Erebor, to marry him as an escape from a tight spot. He thought their marriage was happily enough, but Thorin feels a disconnect from the hobbit he’s married. To appease his family and strengthen their bond, Thorin asks Bilbo to take the Trial of Souls with him. Problem is, Bilbo doesn’t want Thorin to know anything about him because they are most assuredly not Ones. And if Thorin learns the truth, Bilbo will find himself back in the streets or worse...

In a darkened pub deep under the kingdom of Erebor, a hobbit and a dwarf squared off. The waiting crowd was near silent as they waited to see what would happen next. The dark haired beast of a dwarf looked fairly confident as he shared a smirk with his two friends directly behind him.

“What’ll it be, Took? Fold or settle?”

The hobbit nonchalantly lifted his overturn cup to sneak a peek at the two dice lying inside.

“How about I raise you instead?”

It was silent for a moment before the dwarf, Drulik, burst into laughter followed by his cronies.

“Raise? You have nothing left to bet with.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Bilbo stated before pulling out a silver harp-shaped brooch with thin golden strings.

The dwarves surrounding the gamblers all began murmuring at once, some trying to lean in for a closer view.

“Is that…?” One of Drulik’s dwarves gaped.

“Yes.” Bilbo announced calmly. “The Courting Gift of our dearly departed queen, Mahal rest her soul.”

“How did you get that?” Drulik demanded.

Bilbo gave him a wane smile as he tucked back into his vest with a pat. “It doesn’t matter. The question you should be asking is how much do you think it’s worth?”

The gambling den awaited Drulik’s long drawn out answer. It almost made the hobbit want to roll his eyes at the melodrama. However, after years on the streets, he knew a good show could sometimes be the difference between success and failure. And Bilbo didn’t fail. Finally, Drulik pulled out another bag, spilling the golden coins onto the pile between them.

“Settle.” Drulik demanded before revealing the contents under his cup.

The crowd cheered and whistled much to Drulik’s ego at the combined total of eleven from his dice. Nine Rings was a gambling game loved by Durin’s Folk and Men alike with a very simple premise. Highest total won. So you bet and bluff to convince your opponent that you have as close to twelve beneath the cup as possible. However, there was one small exception. Nine always trumped any other number. Therefore, when Bilbo lifted his cup to reveal the five and four, there was a near frenzy of excitement. Drulik was rendered speechless as Bilbo lifted his pint in cheer before downing the ale all in one go. Producing a sack from his coat pocket, he raked all the golden coins towards him.

“Well lads, this has been more excitement than any hobbit can take, but I think I’m going to leave now while my fortunes are in my favor.”

“You cheated.” Drulik growled. “You had to have.”

“Check my dice if you wish.” Bilbo offered with a shrug.

The tavern owner, Nifror, who ran as honorable a den as one could for thieves and ruffians was at their table in a flash. Bilbo had heard a tale that the last dwarf who cheated at the game got their loaded dice pinned, one to each hand, with a knife made by Nifror’s wife. He threw the dice a few times and each time they landed with a different number. He shrugged.

“The hobbit’s clean.”

“But that’s impossible.” One of Drulik’s own gaped.

“Yeah, we loaded them ourselves!” The other snarled.

There was a pause and then Old Nifror was on them in a flash. Some moved to help the old barkeep out. The rest roared and placed bets on the winner. Meanwhile, Bilbo used this as the perfect opportunity to sneak away. He dropped the loaded dice he had smuggled into his pocket on the ground with a snort. Like he would be that stupid. Now most would have worried walking around with that much gold around the dregs of Erebor’s underworld. Fortunately, Bilbo was a professional at remaining quiet and unseen. A talent he had been forced to pick up early in his life. Which is why he nearly screamed when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Make a good haul?” The dwarf smirked.

Bilbo turned around with a glare. “You know you don’t have to be so smug every time you manage to catch me off guard.”

Nori, Bilbo’s oldest and dearest friend, just raised an eyebrow as he tried and failed to hide the mischievous superiority oozing from his every pore.

“Just like to remind you, you’re not the best just yet.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes as he continued on his way knowing the dwarf was following.

“We both know I was headed to your place eventually so is there a reason you’re bugging me now?”

“Can I not worry over the sake of my friend?” Nori gasped overdramatically.

Bilbo snorted but made no arguments or agreements.

“Well, if I were coming to find you, it might have something to do with the fact that your husband finished up his duties early today to surprise you.”

The coin he was holding nearly slipped from his suddenly numb fingers.

“Valar above!” Bilbo swore. “That dwarf. He’s positively incorrigible!”

“He’s in love.” Nori pointed out.

Bilbo scoffed. “Love. Well shit, looks like you’re going to have to take this to our hiding place for me.”

Bilbo shoved the bag of gold into the dwarf’s chest before power walking towards the secret tunnels. Nori kept stride with him, clearly not done delivering bad news.

“Are you anywhere close to the right amount?”

“I’ve nearly two-thirds at this point.”

“Bilbo, you only have a week left.”

“I’m well aware, Nori! Maybe it's enough to...buy me more time.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t the whole point of you marrying some rich noble supposed to give you easy access to the treasury?”

“It was, but there was one teeny detail we didn’t take into account.”

“What’s that?”

Bilbo paused, his face falling into a grimace. “In-laws.”

***

One of the first things Bilbo and Nori did upon their rushed and unplanned move to Erebor from Ered Luin was scope out the best places for a quick getaway. They just so happened to make kind with a chatty miner named Bofur who, while deep in his cup, told them that the royal wing originally was meant to be on the other side of the mountain. When the architects realized the disadvantage of having the royal family so far from the guards’ posts and war meeting rooms, rather than just move the furniture back down only to go back up on the correct side, they cut unmapped tunnels around the outside of the mountain. It also had the added advantage of getting their monarchy out quicker in the case of a coup if the knowledge hadn’t been lost through time. It was perfect for the thieves’ needs. In almost no time at all, Nori and Bilbo had found the tunnels and utilized them fully.

Something the hobbit was thankful for now as he flew down the tunnel to get back to his room. He welcomed the blast of mountain wind to rapidly cool the sweat on his face before ducking back into the opposite entrance. There was a small alcove where Bilbo’s fancier clothes lay and he all but threw himself out of his worn threads for the finer silks and cotton. The last thing he did was pocket the brooch before sprinting back down the tunnel braiding and beading his hair on the run. Once he was back in the royals’ wing, he ducked his head out to make sure the coast was clear, and then silently made his way to his suite. After closing the door behind him, Bilbo relaxed against it, heaving a sigh of relief.

“And just where have you been, Husband of Mine?”

Bilbo prided himself on the fact that he did not squeak even if he did jump nearly two feet in the air. Thorin, Prince of Erebor, was lounging in the armchair by the fireplace looking rather pleased with himself. Bilbo attempted to calm his racing heart as he stepped forward, plastering what he hoped to be a loving grin on his face.

“Just a walk on the cliffs with Nori. Surely, you would not deny this hobbit the feel of fresh air and sunshine?”

Thorin stood at that point, meeting him about halfway. His thumb gently caressed Bilbo’s cheek.

“If I had it my way, I would deny you nothing, ukradê (my greatest heart).”

Bilbo hummed in practiced delight as he met his husband’s lips with his own. The hobbit was at least content with the knowledge that as far as dwarves went, Thorin was stunningly handsome. Not a sentiment necessarily shared with others of his race. Which worked out just fine for Bilbo as it left a prince of all things, uncommitted and available.

“By the way, look what I found this morning.” Bilbo stepped back with a teasing smile as he produced the brooch from his pocket.

“My mother’s brooch!” Thorin gaped as he took it reverently. “Where…?”

“It was under my bed. You must have dropped it when you paid me a surprise visit last night.”

Thorin smirked as he latched onto Bilbo’s hips. “I remember the night well.”

Oh, and he was a really, really good bed partner. No, Bilbo was well aware he could have it much worse. It was just the dwarf’s nauseating romanticism that nearly caused him to roll his eyes more than once. Thorin gave him a long lingering kiss before he bent forward to press his forehead against Bilbo’s own. Their hands found their way into each other’s naturally interlocking.

“I promise, it won’t always be like this.” Thorin murmured when he finally pulled away, his blue eyes shining brightly.

Like this. The dwarf was so dramatic. It constantly made Bilbo feel like some player performing for the court. Heaving a sigh as he looked down between their conjoined hands.

“We’ve been married for eight months, and two of those have been spent here in Erebor. If your family was going to accept me, they would have done so by now.”

Thorin released his hands so he could lift Bilbo’s chin to look at him.

“Don’t lose faith yet, amrâlimê (my love). I have a plan.”

It was a good thing Bilbo was a talented actor. He laughed, causing Thorin to smile.

“You have a plan? That sounds dangerous.”

“Tease all you want, but I have all the confidence in this plan.”

“Well, out with it. What have you come up with?”

Thorin shook his head teasingly. “You’ll have to wait. I want it to be a surprise.”

Bilbo linked his arms around the dwarf’s neck for leverage as he started showering him with kisses at his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and his throat.

“And I couldn’t persuade you to tell me any sooner?”

“You are cruel, thundanûd (tiny embrace).” Thorin moaned, his hands resting on Bilbo’s arms.

“It’s only cruel if you don’t accept the invitation.” Bilbo teased back as he pulled at the prince’s tunic to allow him access to his collarbone.

Thorin shuddered once with want before finding the strength to pull away. He grasped Bilbo’s hands again as he kissed him deeply as an apology.

“Later. There will be time later. But now...we are having dinner with my family.”

Bilbo’s building fire of lust was immediately doused, a small frown settled on his forehead that Thorin attempted to kiss away. Lovely, the in-laws.

It certainly wasn’t that Bilbo wanted them to like him. He could honestly care less. It was just their dislike of him that made it really difficult for him to do...well, much of anything. Thrain, still mourning the loss of his dead wife, remained suspicious and hardened against Bilbo for the sheer fact that he was a hobbit. Their marriage had yet to be announced to the Council or even the mountain in general. Keeping Bilbo out of the public eye was Thrain’s number one priority which was certainly no hardship. It was Frerin and Dis he had the biggest problems with. Thorin’s brother and sister, ever loyal to him, seemed to think Bilbo wasn’t good enough for the dwarf, and constantly had Balin, the royal advisor, keeping tabs on him. Bilbo was reluctant to admit the dwarf’s keen eyes and sharp wit, but it had taken quite a few of Bilbo’s best moves to lose his tails before entering the secret tunnels.

Therefore, coming together in the Royal Dining Room for “family dinners” was a...stilted affair. There were only two redeeming features to those evenings. One, it was always the best food Bilbo had ever eaten in his life. And two, Thorin’s nephews, Fili and Kili, were not the least bit bothered by him and had some story worth telling that took the edge of him for a little bit at least.

“And then the axe sailed through the air and straight into the boar’s head. So technically, technically we aren’t responsible for the mess in the trophy room.” Kili finished.

“No.” Vili, their father snorted. “Just responsible for startling the poor guard that set off the chain of events.”

“Well how were we supposed to know he was right there?” Fili defended.

Bilbo snorted in spite of himself. “Watch the shadows.”

He immediately tensed after he said it as he waited for the barrage of insults to be hurtled his way.

“Spoken like a true thief.” Dis sneered.

Yep, right on cue.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t corrupt my sons.” She continued.

“Namad…” Thorin warned softly.

Thrain’s hand met the tabletop in a harsh bang. “What have I said about speaking our language in front of the Halfling?!”

Bilbo sighed and turned his attention to his soup as the line of Durin flexed their tempers. Thorin rising to his defense, Dis and Thrain attempting to argue their points louder, Frerin leaving snide quips here and there, and Vili trying and failing to keep the peace. The joy of family dinners.

“Actually, while we’re on this subject, I have something to say.” Thorin demanded, his voice low and regal. “I will be gone the remainder of the week.”

Everyone, including Bilbo, froze and stared up at Thorin in relative confusion and outrage. The prince’s eyes were boring holes straight into his father whose scowl would be enough to frighten wargs off at this point.

“And just where will you be?” The king finally spat.

Thorin reached down for Bilbo’s hand making the hobbit supremely discomforted. Thorin’s eyes were soft and pleading though as they met his.

“We will be taking the Trial of Souls.”

“We’ll be doing what now?” Bilbo questioned.

“Thorin…” Dis murmured at a surprisingly subdued volume, her eyebrows knitted together.

“Finally! A sensible idea!” Frerin declared.

All eyes rested on the brunette as he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you think? I mean, to put it bluntly, everyone at this table has been trying to convince Thorin out of this marriage in some way. When they don’t emerge from the tunnels together, that would be a pretty good indicator of the truth.”

“We haven’t. We like Bilbo.” Kili reminded softly.

Bilbo shot the troublemakers a quick smile of thanks. They were idiots, but they were sweet. Meanwhile, Thrain was rubbing his beard in thought before nodding once.

“Yes, this will do well. In fact, if you make it through all five chambers, I’ll hold a feast in honor and publically accept your union.”

Thorin nodded, still looking rather cross with his father. “As I’d hoped.”

Bilbo found he couldn’t take it anymore. “Now, wait! Wait just a minute! What is this...Trial of Souls?”

Thorin stared at his father for permission, and the king granted it almost the picture of satisfaction. Being a gambler, it made Bilbo largely nervous as Thorin turned back towards him.

“It’s a series of tests to prove two dwarves...or in our case, a dwarf and a hobbit, are Ones.”

Bilbo’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times, but no words were able to come out.

“Problem, Halfling?” Dis questioned with mock innocence.

“Thorin, a moment if you please.” Bilbo was finally able to say as he pulled his stone-headed husband out into the hall.

“Are you serious?!” He finally rounded on him.

“What?” Thorin questioned.

“Thorin, I…” Bilbo fought for the right words without making this worse. “I don’t understand. What exactly do we have to prove? We’re married. Shouldn’t that be enough?!”

Thorin sighed. “It should. You are correct, ibinê (my gem). But don’t you see? It’s perfect! My family will be satisfied by our success at the Trials, and it’ll be irrefutable evidence to the rest of the mountain if any rose to challenge us. And politics aside, I want this for us.”

“Us?” Bilbo repeated too numb to be completely in control of his mouth.

“Yes!” Thorin nodded eagerly. “Couples that pass the Trials of Souls find they become closer than ever. Our...relationship hasn’t been for very long, and I respect that your past is painful to you, but I want to know you azyungel (love of loves). I want to know everything there is to know about my husband, and share myself in return. What do you say?”

Now being a hardened thief, the hobbit knew a thing or two about how to get out of a seemingly hopeless situation. However, as his mind swirled and swirled around the damnable logic of Thorin’s decision, he found himself becoming dizzy and nauseated. That was it then. Bilbo was doomed. He had just enough time to get out a soft ‘nope’ before he fell over in a dead faint.

#birthdayplotbunnies #bagginshield #thilbo #starterdrabbles #Bilbo would be much happier if his husband would quit trying to love him

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

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Courtship / Bilbo Baggins Headcanons

Request: I’m back again! I really enjoyed your bilbo headcanons, my heart literally went boom. I’m sorry to request him again it’s just there isn’t enough written about him and I love the way you write! So if it’s not too much trouble may I ask for headcanons about bilbo trying to court you and some about after you accept? <3

Ahh I’m so glad you liked them! I hope these are okay! <3 Also thank you to one of my best friends/ my flatmate for helping me out with these!

Comments are much appreciated!

Bilbo, our poor hobbit, is in all honesty very very nervous to start courting you.

He’s never really felt this way about anybody, ever before, and he certainly wasn’t expecting to one day just go out his front door and fall head over heels love with someone outside of the Shire, it just wasn’t proper.

For a while, he would just sort of grumble to himself and hide behind his pony, frowning to himself and fixing his handkerchief to keep himself busy when he sees you laughing and packing up your provisions with Fili and Kili.

Or other times it will be nightfall, and the whole Company would have set up camp in some damp, rugged mountain ledge somewhere. Although he should be focusing on how shivering cold he is in only his thin jacket, or how the wind is howling with the rage of a thousand orcs in the gloomy dusk outside the small encampment, he just settles onto his hands and lies on the mossy log by the glowing fire. He’s watching you, of course, but he always pretends to close his eyes and be asleep when you turn from your watch and catch him looking at you.

Finally, Bofur has enough, and keeps on elbowing Bilbo in the back, making him stumble over the stony ground and nearly trip over his bare feet until he finally decides to try and court you.

He constantly pushes all the other dwarves out of the way at dawn so he can squat down and light a fire by himself, without any hassle or disturbance, because he wants to cook you a scrumptious meal passed down from his great great grandparents, using the mushrooms and berries and such he managed to scavenge up during the day.

He always sits nearby while everyone eats it up, his knees knocking together and hands fiddling with each other until you finish up. You walk up to him with a bright grin on your face, telling him it was delicious, and when you ask for seconds he brightens up like the Star of Earendil.

He managed to sneak a few ripe, glowing red, delicious apples from his orchard back at Bag End with him before he left on this adventure, and so he sneaks one or two into your pack when you’re not looking.

You see him every time though, and when you take him aside from the others to thank him for it later, he always watches you speak with a shy smile on his face.

He always looks up at you with this sort of wide eyed, frightened, but totally awe filled look on his face whenever he sees you.

When the company arrives at Rivendell, he somehow manages to scramble up and brew some ethereal smelling tea. Before midsummer eve, he takes you out onto one of the balconies, the two of you sitting at the edge of the deep valley, knee to knee and in complete peace underneath the shimmering stars.

Although he’s not great at it, Bilbo takes Thorin’s advice, and tries one day to braid some flowers into your hair. When you agree, he swallows thickly and sits down behind you, feeling the blush reach the tip of his ears when you settle against his back. He’s completely nervous, and keeps coughing, and his fingers fumble with each twist and turn that it ends up looking horrible. You still keep it, however, showing it off to every dwarf who would pay attention, and it makes him the happiest hobbit in Middle Earth.

He tells you stories during dark and rainy nights, when the two of you are so disturbed by the rolling thunder. He sits by your makeshift heap, his hand by your head as he wonders down at you, telling you stories about his home, and promising that he’ll take you back there one day to snuggle down in his finest armchair by his flickering fire, while he makes you a warm mug of spiced cider.

When you finally catch on that he’s trying to court you (with a little nudging on from Oin and Fili, Kili hadn’t even noticed), you walk up to him the next morning and just lean down and press your lips quickly, and sweetly against his, before smiling and getting back on your horse.

The whole day is the quietest he’s ever been - he doesn’t complain, not even once, which worries Thorin. He’s just sitting there, staring off into the distance and constantly pressing his fingers to his lips.

After that, he’s pretty much inseparable from you.

He can now only sleep covered with a mountain of blankets and clinging onto you, no matter how boiling or freezing the night is.

He always blushes when you wake him up with a light kiss to his twitching nose.

Sometimes, when he's getting a bit worked up over things, you'll stick a bright flower in the corner of his hair and for some reason it always calms him down.

You move in with him at Bag End when everything at the Misty Mountain is over, and the two of you grow old raising Frodo together like a perfect little family.

#bilbo baggins #bilbo baggins imagine #bilbo baggins x reader #bilbo baggins fluff #bilbo baggins headcanons #lotr #the hobbit #lord of the rings #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #martin freeman #martin freeman imagine

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