#Dwarves are somewhere in the middle! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

schoenpepper · 12 days

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Here Kitty Kitty Kitty (Housewardens)

Intro: You're a wild little thing, aren't you? Let's see how the NRC dorm leaders deal with you, then.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, not much i think idk tell me if i should pop a warning somewhere, it's reaaally long

A/N: My goodbye gift before I die in college. Not that I'd be too busy though, my prof list isn't even complete yet. Hollywood lied to me about college it all sucks (not even started first day yet). Oh this was a request btw so I hope you like it anon. Even though I'm not sure I really followed through with the request I'm sorry.

Masterlist

Headcanon order (on the what he thinks of you part):

Fierce, reckless, territorial, soft to people close to you

You tried to tell Neige you weren’t interested in the National Arcane Academy Culture Fair, you really did. But your best friend is a lot less of a pushover than he seems to be, hanging onto your arm and pulling you right to the middle of the chaos. NRC is dark, dreary, and every corner seems to be black and covered with spiderwebs. Which, honestly, is quite the refreshing turn from the bright white glitter you’d gotten used to in RSA.

“Their science club is doing a cafe!”

The black-haired, starry-eyed boy points at a spot on the map. “It’s not too far from this place, maybe we can drop by and try out their treats.” he smiles happily. You look away (two years is not enough time to get used to the sparkles that magically appear whenever he beams) and sigh. “Where are the dwarves? Won’t they enjoy going to the cafe more than I would? I told you I was just fine sitting on a bench somewhere until the SDC.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re right. Where are they—” you pull him back as he turns, but not before he bumps into someone.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking…”

“Hm? It’s fine, oh hey, aren’t you that superstar on the news?”

The ginger is getting uncomfortably close to your friend’s personal space, so you get in front of Neige, shielding him from this nosy NRC student.

“Y/N!” Neige gives you a worried look, tugging on your sleeve, “I should apologize.”

“What? He said it’s fine already.”

“Ace, are you disturbing these visitors?”

At the sound of the new voice, the young man in front of you straightens up almost unnecessarily straight, back taut and expression nervous. A short student with strawberry red hair is accompanied by a tall student with glasses and green hair. The redhead seems very uptight, with the way he drags down this ‘Ace’ person to his level by the collar to chastise him from apparently ‘disturbing’ you. Neige waves from behind you, trying to stop them while making sure not to leave your circle of protection. “No, we bumped into him, it was my fault really.”

“Ah, I see,” he nods as he lets go of the other person’s collar, “my apologies that you had to see that shameful act. If you need anything, please let the culture fair committee members know, you will recognize them by this badge.”

“Cool, but we’re just going to the cafe. Thanks for the help, bye,” you cut the conversation short and pull Neige away.

“Y/N, that was very rude.”

You shrug, “What was I supposed to do? Didn’t you see that guy has an on and off switch for exploding like an active volcano? Did you want to be on the receiving end of his next outburst?”

“Don’t be so judgmental, Y/N, you barely know the person,” Neige sighs.

“I don’t need to know him.”

Exchange program:

It turns out that you did, in fact, need to know him. Neige somehow managed to convince you to sign up for an exchange student program between RSA and NRC, so you got sorted into Heartslabyul and the guy you insulted at the culture fair is now your housewarden.

Ace and Deuce are okay, if not a few cells short of a brain sometimes. You do enjoy getting caught up in their shenanigans whenever the dorm leader and his eight hundred something rules get a tad bit too stifling. At some point, their dumb (affectionate) tactics manage to work their way into your heart, so you begrudgingly call them friends.

You think Cater’s a good guy, if not a bit social-media-obsessed. You don’t mind having him nearby because he generally just chats about random things. As long as you manage to put up with him asking for a pic every once in a while, he’s not awful. Trey is a comforting presence. He may or may not have Pavlov’d you with the way he always has a sweet treat with him, making you calmer and more susceptible to behaving within his general vicinity.

Riddle is a whole ‘nother thing altogether; you make him mad. Er, madder than usual, at least. Something must be in the tea in Heartslabyul because you and the housewarden in the same room is a guarantee for a beheading. Usually you, but there have been a fair number of innocent victims who’d just happened to get caught up in your squabbles. Riddle is a flame and you’re a tankful of gasoline, always with a witty comeback or something else that’s sure to make every situation worse.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Think a dry, wooden cottage smack dab in the middle of the woods and a wildfire. That’s how you and Riddle get along. You’re hot tempered; pot, meet kettle. You’re sarcastic and snippy, traits that he most certainly does not appreciate. Every time he’s lecturing you about something or the other, you speak. And every word that comes out of your mouth makes him want to collar you.

…Another one? How did his dorm somehow get stuck with the most ‘act first, think later’ individuals? You give Riddle a headache, but don’t worry, he’s all too used to it. He will bail you out of trouble and every stupid situation you find yourself in, but also, he will assign you a 5000 word apology essay each time he does.

Riddle gets it. It’s a sign of disrespect when people touch your things without your explicit consent, and he’d get mad too if it was him in that situation. Does, however, do a double-take when he sees you tackle someone to the ground after you hear them insult Neige, screaming something about “your people”. Turns a blind eye.

Since…since when have you and that duo been so close? He’s not mad (for once). But he does feel rather…upset. You’re always such a spiky individual, so to see you almost melting into the couch, head on Deuce’s lap as he patted your hair and legs over Ace’s, it’s almost surreal. He’s not angry, no, but then why does he still feel unhappy?

Love story climax:

“I just don’t understand. Why do I feel so uncomfortable when I see Y/N together with other people?”

Trey hums from where he’s standing in the kitchen, letting Riddle know that he’s listening while whipping the bowl of cream.

“You’re smart,” Trey chuckles, “you’ll figure it out.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and looks back down at the chopping board, cutting off the top of another strawberry. It wasn’t an illness, but maybe if he diagnosed it like one, he could arrive at a proper conclusion. He mentally retraces his steps and every unpleasant feeling that had welled up inside him. He feels okay, good maybe, when he sees you. He gets mad when you retort while he’s trying to discipline you, but even then, he seems to have started to find it rather…cute? And he gets unreasonably anxious when you’re so close to your friends.

…No. No. Absolutely not.

Riddle Rosehearts is not in love with you.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

You still make him mad, but now instead of being collared, you just need to coax him a little and this strawberry shortcake is ready to fold like a collapsible tent. Make it up to him by being sweet and loving him lots, okay? If it’s to other people, he doesn’t really care as long as it doesn’t get violent. You are exempt from the apology letters though, congrats (he thinks that time writing them could be better spent with him).

Riddle probably needs heart medication at some point, you’re going to drive him either insane or to his inevitable death. He gets a lot more protective of you now because you’re his partner, but please please please at least try not to get hurt. Or try to consider if you might get hurt before doing something. Or how about this, you call him up before you make any decision at all?! Yeah. Heart attack.

Honestly, he probably doesn’t realize that you have a tendency to be overly possessive and territorial of him. Riddle isn’t exactly the type of guy to frequently get love confessions (he should be), you know? So the only time he nottices is when you catch him in the middle of equestrian club meetings or something, and he’s just a step too close to some newbie. Tells you to keep it down and assures you, his love for you is real and unchanging.

Happy guy. He thinks he’s silly when he gets so giddy at the smallest things you do, like kissing the back of his hand, but he can’t exactly stop the somersaults his heart does whenever you’re being so affectionate with him. Regardless, it’s quite rude to make public displays of affection, so be reserved and try to keep it all in private. Will blush at every little thing until like, two years into the relationship.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Neige’s words are cut short when you tackle the hyena beastman to the ground. He looks at you, horrified, and was likely about to chastise you before you pulled out a familiar leather wallet from the beastman’s pocket. “Thief,” you hiss, “you picked the wrong students to mess with.”

“Tsk, [laugh with me].”

The hyena rolls around and you’re unable to control your own movements, rolling with him. You’re lying on the ground when the magic snaps but he’s already running away, Neige’s wallet in hand. “Oh no you don’t!”

You weave through the crowd of students and booths, trying to keep your eyes trained on the mop of caramel hair that was zooming farther and farther away from you. You finally spot him by one of the stages, where he sprints by a tall lion beastman who catches him by the scruff of his neck like a kitten. You come to a stop, panting lightly as you glare at the lion beastman. “Is this guy a friend of yours? He has something of mine, so you better have him give it back quick or I’ll—”

“Ruggie,” The lion yawns, “no stealing during the culture fair.”

“Finders keepers!”

“Ruggie.”

“Fine.”

You get Neige’s wallet back and immediately turn tail and leave. These NRC students are freaks (no stealing during the culture fair? then it’s okay to steal any other time?).

Exchange program:

Something something it’s better to make friends than enemies. While not a saying you’ve ever given a fuck about before, it’s hard not to care when it led you to where you are now. Due to a mass voting in RSA for whoever to send to the exchange program, you’ve been bolted out as the sacrificial lamb (that’s what you get for always picking fights). Savanaclaw takes you in because you wrestle one of their dorm members to the ground on your very first day.

Jack Howl is probably one of the closest things you’ll see to another RSA student in this place. You get along well with him because he doesn’t take your quips at face value (or rather, he doesn’t care for your insults and dry sarcasm). Ruggie takes a bit more getting used to, but he’s a really cool dude when you manage to keep all your valuables away from arm’s reach.

And Leona…he’s like a stray cat. And you’re also a stray cat. And you’re in the same dark alley, coexisting together. You ignore each other most of the time unless the other gets a tad bit too close. It’s not too bad when the boundaries are in place.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

He’s too tired and sleepy most of the time to deal with your temper. Not as if you can do anything about it though, try as you might, you can never win against Leona. You can talk crap about how lazy he is or whatever, he doesn’t care, but whenever you even attempt to fight him you’re already subdued one way or another. Leona thinks you should pick and choose your battles well.

While Leona is a big believer of instincts, there’s a fine line between believing and charging in like a bull seeing red at the first tingle of a gut feeling. He’ll let out a sigh but still, he’ll fish you out of trouble and claim you’re bothering his naptime and he’ll totally leave you to fend for yourself the next time the consequences of your stupid actions find you (he will not).

He’s a lion, of course he’s territorial. So he understands your need to stake your claim on a certain place or item, as long as it’s not something he’d already claimed as his own. Leaves you about it. Territorial about people though? Same thing. Do as you will, he can’t muster the energy to care.

A low growl is emitted from his chest, pupils constricted into pinpricks, ears and tail stiff—Leona isn’t dumb. He knows that the instinctual actions of his body mean something, and in this case, it means he’s annoyed watching you be all buddy buddy with Ruggie. You, the little porcupine you are, laughing so easily with the guy you swore was your enemy, it makes him gnash his teeth in anger (envy).

Love story climax:

He can’t get you out of his head.

The few months you’ve been at NRC, you’ve started to become an existence that he didn’t mind constantly having around. He’d found you annoying at first, so why is it that now, just seeing you so happy with Ruggie is enough to drive him insane? He keeps his eyes closed but he can’t sleep. You’re still lingering in his vision, a hazy mirage by the moonlight of the savanna. Why can’t he stop thinking about you?

Why can’t he stop thinking about your hair and how soft it looked to touch? Why can’t he stop thinking about how incredible your skin would feel on his? Why can’t he stop thinking about your lips…?

Fuck.

Leona rolls over in his bed, burying his face in a pillow. Maybe if he suffocated to death he wouldn’t be haunted by thoughts of you. But, if you’re so willing to be close to Ruggie, why not Leona? He could be your…friend too. Do you already think of him as a friend? You tend to run to him with that stupid smile and chatter away even when he tells you to go away, is that a sign that you saw him as some sort of confidant? Whatever.

Leona’s not good with emotions, but he’s the farthest thing from a coward.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Okay wildfire, Leona likes it, but you need to tone it down a bit unless you want your ass handed back to you on a platter. No he’s not threatening you, it’s just that you should already know the folks in NRC aren’t scared of fights. No he doesn’t care that you’re not scared of fights. Stop picking fights. If you sass him back enough he will sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

There’s a reason why he always has one hand on you, whether on your hip or the back of your neck. It’s not because he’s a clingy kitty (stop teasing, he’s not a cat!), rather, it’s so he can easily stop you when a situation arises and you decide on something he wishes you didn’t decide on. Now that you’re in a relationship, he’ll sit you down and start a long discussion on why you should learn to think before you act.

Let’s get something straight, you are part of his territory, not the other way around. He’s just as protective and possessive of you as you are to him, if not more, so pretty much everyone knows to book it when they see you two together. Any poor soul who has a crush on either of you quickly get the picture.

Tsk, you’re so clingy (affectionate). Unlike most guys on the list, Leona doesn’t give two shits about other people, ergo, he doesn’t care when you kiss or touch him in public. In fact, he encourages it. Go ahead, mark him up. But if he reciprocates, he’ll tell you he’s just doing what you’ve been doing, so you have no right to refuse.

You knew it was instantly trouble when the person he bumped into had all the tells of a bad mood. You push Neige behind you while he apologizes profusely to the stranger. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry!” His words obviously went unheard because this annoyingly tall NRC student only grimaced, and you know from experience that when someone bares their teeth at you, it means they haven’t forgiven your pitiful apology.

“You can’t see where you’re going, hah, maybe I should squeeze you ‘til your eyes pop out? Maybe you’ll see it then?”

Let it be known that though you were half this asshole’s size, that did not mean you were going to take this lying down.

“Hey, back off. He said it was an accident.”

You feel Neige tugging on your sleeve. “Hey, Y/N let’s just—”

“I don’t care if it was an accident, I’m in a slump and you just made it worse, y’know?”

“Well I don’t care if you don’t care. You better back off before I take your slump and shove it down your stupid—”

Another unfamiliar figure approaches, this one shorter than the asshole, with purplish-white hair and glasses, yet somehow looking just as dangerous with the kind smile he has on. He gives the guy in front of you a very pissed-off look behind the carefully maintained grin. You think he might be trying to whisper, but it’s not very quiet.

“Floyd! I told you to sell the drinks while Jade and I are gone, what are you doing here?”

“Ehhh, but I didn’t feel like selling drinks.”

They’re gone before you even know what’s going on.

The interaction only cemented what you’d known before you even got here; everyone in NRC is a weirdo.

Exchange program:

Apparently, someone’s great idea for a prank is signing you up to be an exchange student to NRC. So, hurray.

You’re plopped into Octavinelle because the very reliable headmaster of NRC drew lots from some magical (rigged) thing. It doesn’t take you too long to realize that the quick-to-violence guy you’d met a little while back is one of the frontrunners of the dormitory. Thankfully, your second meeting has Floyd in a better mood than before, and he decides that you’re interesting before bestowing you your very own nickname; catfish. You do not appreciate it.

Jade is easy enough to get along with, you’ve discovered it’s good to just do as he says and as long as he has nothing to gain from it, he won’t torment you (too much). Though, he does make your hackles rise every once in a while because dear Seven he gives you the heebie-jeebies, even despite the perfectly polite thing he has going on.

Azul, it takes you way too long to befriend. He starts off avoiding you almost entirely, like you’re a contagious disease (if only you knew). You’re not the type to suck up to anyone, and definitely not the type to force close proximity with someone who seems to hate you, so you leave him alone. Eventually, one potion explosion, two torn contracts, and one messed up lounge later, you and Azul become acquaintances. Friends, maybe. Uh, tentatively.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Azul thinks you’re unnecessarily high-strung. Well, where do you get the energy to always be so combative and hot-tempered? He’d rather stay away from people like you when business isn’t involved. He’s one to always keep calm and cool after all, he doesn’t think he’d get along with you at all.

Your tendency to act according to your nature and intuition and just general however you feel like acting, it’s an enigma for sure. Azul prefers a plan and at least three other backup plans, so you running headfirst into any situation makes him sigh and take another step back from you. Sevens know it might be contagious (does not call you stupid to your face, but to your back? Absolutely).

The first time he saw you almost bite Floyd’s head off for just touching your things without your permission, it was enough for him to put another strike on his record. Oh dear, you really are a handful, aren’t you? Does not realize your territorialism extends to people until Jade showed him what happened to the last student that tried messing with one of the dwarves.

Azul thinks he needs new glasses. Is that you? Looking so sweet and cuddly with your friends? Really? He gets flashbacks to when you almost scratched his eyes out that time he tried roping you into one of his contracts. Now seeing you all clingy with that celebrity, he feels…uncomfortable. It must be because you’re acting strange (he’s not jealous, thank you very much).

Love story climax:

“Yeah their food is crazy good,” you grin at Neige, helping him choose a few items on the menu, “as long as the bill is paid, at least.”

While Azul is flattered at your actions to recommend the Mostro Lounge to your closest friend who’d dropped by for a visit, there’s an annoying, itchy, gnawing feeling in one of his hearts that makes him unable to sit still. He pushes your original waiter aside and approaches your table with his little notepad, shooting you the most charming smile he’s able to give. He taps his pen against the paper to get your attention. “Y/N, I’m so glad to see you stop by again. I assume you’ll have the usual?”

“Oh, hey Azul,” he does not fail to notice the way your tone gets softer with him, “yes please. And can you add some other dishes for my friend here? Maybe two or three of your most popular ones, just so he can try them.”

Azul nods, jotting down your order. Then, he places a hand over his chest, grinning, “Of course, and just for you, it’s free of charge!”

It doesn’t take him long to confess now that he knows you like him too.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Thinks it’s hot 100%, he will die on this hill. While he still doesn’t appreciate you constantly getting into fights with other people, seeing you angry is so interesting to him. Also, you turn down the sarcasm with him, so he can fully enjoy seeing you tear someone a new one. Will not stop you unless it’s beginning to get physical.

His hair is about to turn white. Except, it’s already white. Anyway, the point is that you stress him out very much, as you being reckless means you tend to get into situations that isn’t in his Plan A. Or B. Or C. He bails you out of trouble with a calm smile and an eloquent speech, and it’s usually enough to resolve the situation. This doesn’t mean he likes you having virtually no self-control or self-reflection skills though, you’ll have to have a long talk with him (communication is key).

Azul thinks it’s cute when you let him pop your personal bubble, and he’s very happy to watch you try to pick a fight with anyone who gets too close to either you or him (keyword being try, he does his best to stop any actual fights from happening). He doesn’t mind you seeing him as part of your ‘territory’, as long as he gets something in return (and you don’t get too suffocating).

Watching you curl up into him whether in public or private gets him flustered, but especially in public. Angelfish, the big bad businessman has a reputation to uphold, you know? Still, he can’t find it in himself to push you off when you’re just so adorable like this, knowing how feisty you typically are. Do try to save it for private spaces though, he would also like to cling onto you shamelessly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

Something is off about the person Neige bumped into. Call it a gut feeling, or maybe it was the way the brown haired student was instantly alert, sweeping the white haired boy to a ‘safer’ distance before deciding on whether or not it was worth it to actually face you and Neige. You’re not sure what exactly is wrong, but your intuition is saying that this is not the kind of person your all-too-naive friend is supposed to fraternize with.

“It’s fine.”

His answer is curt, and he steers the other boy away immediately. You share a look with Neige, when you click your tongue and pull him along to find a map.

“They seemed nice.”

You hope there will not come a day when your friend is at the mercy of people with bad intentions, as it is very likely that he’d be eaten alive. “They seemed like bad news. Everyone here seems like bad news.” You reply, finally finding the botanical gardens where the cafe had been set up. You sit across from Neige at a table where some student takes your orders. Neige asks for a caramel macchiato with extra caramel and some macarons, and you opt for something a little less diabetic. “Don’t say that, Y/N. They didn’t even do anything to us, even though I was at fault for bumping into them. Isn’t that nice?”

You roll your eyes, “It’s nice that they didn’t, what, beat us up? Have higher standards, LeBlanche.”

“They seem like they’d make for good friends, that’s all,” he laughs softly.

“You think that of everyone.”

“Maybe you should give it a try.”

Exchange program:

Neige’s great plan to get you more “accustomed” to people is to throw you to NRC in the school’s newly-cooked-up exchange student program. You can’t stop him, because he really is only thinking of the best for you, but it doesn’t mean you have to like it, right? You get put in Scarabia because they have a lot of room.

Jamil is…okay. He’s a lot of things, but mostly, he’s not someone you’d ever find back at RSA. He’s a stressed out nanny most of the time, but there are a few moments when he feels more morally gray than people should probably be.

Kalim, however, you get along with splendidly. With him as your housewarden, you almost feel like you’re back with your normal circle of friends. Except Kalim is like, horrendously richer than them (and a bit more airheaded, though you think that could still be debated).

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Sorry, but most of your sarcasm is going to bounce right off Kalim’s head. He will not notice it unless you’re really blunt about it, in which case, why? It’s not easy to be mad at someone who’s so genuine all the time, and being unnecessarily mean to him is just, well, mean. It’s best to just go along with him. You can’t win against this type of person.

Twinning! No, seriously, you’re two cookies cut from the same dough, with the exact same cookie cutter. You and Kalim are exactly the same in this kind of thing, and it drives Jamil absolutely insane. Sorry to say but whatever trouble you stir up you’re going to have to face yourself; Kalim is no help, he rarely even has to face the consequences of his own actions, much less yours.

Kalim is the kind of guy to unintentionally get too close, like, all the time. No he doesn’t mean it, but it also doesn’t help when your instincts go nuts because he borrowed a pencil without asking. He does notice that you’re very protective of your stuff, but he doesn’t really notice what he does most of the time, though he tries to respect your boundaries. Does not notice it translates to people.

Oh hey! You’re hanging out with Neige, that’s so cool, can he come with? No…? You want some time with your friend because he’s only visiting for a short time? That’s cool…yeah, he can give you guys space. It’s not very often that the Al-Asim heir finds something that makes him feel disappointed or upset, but this is certainly one of them. And the worst part is, he doesn’t even know why.

Love story climax:

You’re such a sight to behold.

Kalim wonders if Neige knows how lucky he is, able to touch you and hug you like he does. You don’t even fight back, only returning the embrace with a smile. There’s a sharp pain in Kalim’s chest and he wonders what he has to do in order for you to let him that close. He’s your friend too, isn’t he? It’s…so unfair.

“Kalim?”

Jamil approaches him with a worried expression. “Are you okay? You’ve been staring at the fountain for a while.”

He sees the change in Jamil’s face when he notices that it’s you sitting by the fountain. “I see.” The words make Kalim laugh. He rests his elbows on the railing and leans forward, resting his chin on his palms. Of course, Jamil would know. Jamil would understand. Jamil can see the blooming feelings in his chest that he himself took far too long to get.

He wonders if you know.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Being in a relationship does not make Kalim able to detect sarcasm. If you ever try to sass him, he will take it at face value. Anyway, now that you’re this close, it’s easier to understand that with his background, Kalim has never wanted for anything, and no one ever really says no to him. He has a tendency to not hear what you’re saying sometimes, only believing in what he wants to hear. You’re going to need to find some time to discuss this with him.

The only way that this would differ from when you were just strangers/friends with Kalim, is that Jamil is now kind of obligated to help you out when you find yourself in situations you can’t (and likely don’t want to) talk your way out of. At some point he just hypnotizes you to stay out of trouble, at least for a weekend, so he can breathe. Between you and Kalim, he’s probably about to overblot again.

Are you jealous? Kalim laughs it off and hugs you, promising he only loves you and no one else! It’s unlikely he understands the nuances, but Jamil assures you it’s better that way. Your protectiveness goes a bit unnoticed, if only because he’s used to bodyguards and being protected, and it’s also very unlikely that he notices your possessiveness.

Kalim lives for displays of affection! Physical touch, gift giving, words of affirmation—his most fluent language is every love language ever. You want to hug in the middle of a crowd? Sure, he might lose you in the throng of people, after all. Want to kiss? Why not? Make sure not to miss his lips, okay? Private, public, with an audience or alone, Kalim will love you and he will do it in a way that you will never doubt his feelings for you.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t—oh! You’re one of Vil’s friends, right?” Neige holds out a hand to the purple-haired boy for a handshake while you look on with a raised brow. “Um, Epel, I think, is what he called you?”

This Epel kid puts on a smile and shakes Neige’s hand, but it’s easy to tell it’s fake. He’s looking around nervously, as if to ascertain that no one sees him holding hands with Neige, and he takes it back as quickly as he’d put it out. “Right, I need to go, it was nice seeing you,” Epel laughs awkwardly and attempts to leave. He’s rooted in place once his name is called out by someone tall, blonde, and annoyingly pretty. You know from watching your friend’s works that this is the person who often played his rival; Vil Schoenheit. He does not give you the impression that he considers Neige a friend the way that Neige sees him go be.

“Epel, it’s time to go back for rehearsals,” he snaps at the younger boy, before putting on a perfectly practiced smile as he turned to Neige, “apologies for the trouble, we’ll leave you be now.”

And they walk away.

Your friend next to you is waving happily while you cross your arms.

(Clearly, that pompous-looking peacock has something against Neige.)

“It’s a shame, I wanted to introduce you to Vil, but he seems very busy.”

You scoff lightly, but at the very least, you try to mask your distaste. There’s no need for you to tell him that Vil likely hates his guts and the very dirt he steps on, not unless the other makes a move on it. “I don’t need to know anyone here,” you roll your eyes and hold onto his wrist, pulling him away, “let’s just find that cafe. Botanical gardens, right?”

“Right!”

Exchange program:

Due to a few…accidents, the faculty members of RSA have chosen you to represent the school in an exchange student program (they want you shipped off to NRC, like, bad). Pomefiore is the very lucky winner of the “which dorm should this kid be in” raffle, which means hell for you.

Epel is surprisingly funny. He’s probably one of the prettiest people you’ve ever met (and RSA is filled with pretty boys), yet his natural way of doing things is so crude, for lack of a better word. He feels good to chill with, and escape from all the prissiness that the dorm (and its housewarden) has to offer. Rook, though, you stay far away from. Sometimes when you’re alone, you feel like someone is watching you. And it’s probably him.

If there was anyone in this entire school that you absolutely loathe, it’s the world-renowned model actor blah blah blah Vil. He cannot stand your flippant attitude and you cannot stand his everything.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Vil does not know who Jesus Christ is, but I assure you that if he did, the name would be on his tongue 24/7. You don’t stand a chance in a verbal or physical fight with Vil, so you’ve learned to settle for making stupid comments behind his back. That he can still hear. He finds you very frustrating to work with, but he does love a challenge. You’ll learn to be more elegant by the time he’s done with you (you will not).

Part of the ‘does not give a fuck’ club. Whatever mess you find yourself in is your business, do you understand? He’s not one for spoon feeding, potato, so all your problems are your own to bear. Vil thinks that basing everything off intuition and instinct is straight up barbaric, but unfortunately for both you and him, you can’t be moved to Savanaclaw.

What are you, an animal? He can understand not wanting other people to touch your possessions, but must you hiss like some sort of raccoon? Fine, he’ll back off if he must. Your possessiveness of people doesn’t escape him, he just doesn’t think it’s any of his business. However, your actions now, in part, reflect Pomefiore which is under his rule and jurisdiction. Watch how you act.

It’s such an ugly feeling, and one that Vil refuses to define. And it’s Neige again, why is it always Neige? He knows you’re close but must you be that close? You’re always against people being in your ‘bubble’, so when he sees you all over that doe-eyed rival of his, it leaves him seething. Stop holding his hand, stop whispering so close to his ear, stop ignoring Vil…please…

Love story climax:

“Mira, Mira, who is the most beautiful of them all?”

Since he already knows the answer, why does he keep asking? Vil’s never pegged himself as a masochist. Then, what the hell is he doing to himself?

“Searching. The account with most comments tagged as beautiful, Neige LeBlanche.”

…Of course.

Why is it that Neige can get what he can’t have every single time? He works just as hard, doesn’t he? If not more. Neige is the protagonist, Vil is the antagonist. Neige is the hero, Vil is the villain. Neige is your best friend.

Who is Vil to you? Do you even think about him half the amount of times that he thinks of you? Is he a stranger? An acquaintance? A naggy dorm leader that you wish to avoid as much as possible?

He’s come second to your best friend one too many times.

He’s not giving up your heart, not to Neige, not to anyone.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Congratulations, you’ve been upgraded from annoying (derogatory) to annoying (affectionate)! While he doesn’t enjoy your cattiness too much, Vil does like a bit of bite. He’ll indulge you just a little, everything’s fine in moderation, after all. Just make sure you know when to tone it down, darling.

Vil is a responsible person, and he expects you to be responsible too. If you pick a fight all on your own, he has no qualms letting you face the consequences by yourself. But he’s not heartless. If it really is too much for you to handle, or if it’s not your fault, he’s more than happy to help you mediate things (or beat someone up idk).

Jealousy isn’t pretty, but he rather likes the color on you. This man is beloved by literal millions so you’ll have a hard time keeping him all to yourself. But if it’s any consolation, his love is all yours, alright? Vil wouldn’t mind a possessive lover just as long as you know your place. If you think of him as part of your territory? Well, why not?

Vil Schoenheit has a reputation to keep. He can’t just let you do whatever; he’s a public figure. So all your lovey dovey-ing will have to wait until you and him are behind closed, locked, chained doors with shut windows covered by heavy curtains, do you understand? If you do, then feel free to adore him as much as you want to. He will return your affection in kind.

“I didn’t notice you there, sorry!”

“It’s fine…gosh these normies are so clumsy, can’t even walk without tripping over their own feet…though I guess I’m not one to talk.”

Your sense of hearing has an impeccable range, at least, more than enough to hear this walking matchstick’s grumbling that he’d likely meant to keep to himself. You glare at him and push Neige back, rolling up your sleeves. This guy might be tall, but he’ll bend to your level with a nice kick at the groin. “What’d you call my friend, you blue-raspberry-flavored lightstick?”

“Y/N, stop it!”

He squealed, seemingly panicking as he backed away. “What the, I say a few words and you pick a fight irl? That’s so lame.”

“I swear to the Seven if another stupid word leaves your—”

“Threat detected.”

A cute, blue-haired (blue-flamed?) robot kid is pointing some pretty big laser guns your way, so you’re forced to take a step back, watching him slowly lower them. “Hello, please refrain from threatening my big brother, or I’ll have to annihilate you.” The kid warns you with a chipper tone of voice, but he’s glaring at you harshly.

“Y/N,” Neige whispers, “let’s just go.”

You weigh your options and decide that, even though you can probably take that six-foot gremlin, it’s very unlikely you’ll come out unscathed with the adorable death machine in the mix. You send the man one last glare while your friend pulls you away from possible homicide.

Exchange program:

The greenhouse going up in flames was definitely not your fault. Uh, totally unrelated sentence aside, you’ve been chosen to represent RSA to go on an exchange student program to NRC. Because no one from Ignihyde was at the meeting (physically), they couldn’t exactly turn you down. Most people ignored the panicking tablet, anyway.

Ortho is a sweetheart, you’ve found, when you’re not threatening to de-ball his beloved older brother. But the catch is that you can’t spend much time with him without also spending time with Idia. Which, ew.

Your housewarden is someone you barely ever saw. But you’ve taken it upon yourself to annoy him as much as humanly possible (no you’re not petty who said that), so you usually camp outside his door to spook him from ever leaving. This escalates to occasional talks through the door, which turns into him slipping you a controller, to him realizing you can’t play if you don’t see the screen, to actually letting you hang out in his room.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Make no mistake, Idia’s tongue is just as poisonous as yours, if not more. The combination usually leads to trash talk that once made Ortho splash the two of you with cold water. He thinks you’re funny, but you’re both petty so most verbal fights turn to you two swatting at each other like children.

Bro, don’t you have a strategy for every level? You can’t win if you just wing it all the time, y’know? Idia’s the type of gamer who spends several hours at a game’s wiki page just to find the best route to the finish line, so you being as you are kinda gives him a headache. And look, he’s not helping you out, okay? None of his business.

What…you chill in his room but don’t let him have some of your honey butter potato chips? That’s lame af, but like whatever. He notices the people thing when he sees you through one of the cameras (that he did not plant nuh uh) in school, about to commit murder because someone called Ortho things neither you nor Idia appreciate. Hey, he’s rooting for you.

It took him like three weeks just to be able to sit two meters away from you without you bitching about it, so Idia is, understandably, a bit peeved when he sees you practically when he finds you hugging Ortho. He shouldn’t be annoyed, it’s Ortho, for sevens’ sake! But it’s not like he can just stop feeling frustrated. He can’t stop feeling disappointed. He can’t stop feeling…wait, what is he feeling? Jealousy? No! Absolutely not!

Love story climax:

He has to look away when you turn your head, lest he get caught in the act of totally-not-staring. He tries to focus on the game and on the way his character is moving on the screen.

But why is it that he feels like it’s a waste of time?

He loves gaming! The online world is his passion, his everything. But when you’re sitting right beside him, he thinks he’d prefer to admire you, adore you, instead of beating his high score at Kingdom Odyssey: Rise of Dragonheart. He takes another peek at your pretty face, glowing by the light of the screen. Your features morph into one of excitement, and he feels his heart lightening too when he catches your bright smile.

“I won! You lost, suck it!”

He doesn’t even mind you gloating, because your smug smirk is just…

Ew. Gross. Blegh.

It’s like he got turned into a shoujo manga character right there. Idia turns back to the screen. “Dumb luck, noob. Next round it’s gg for you.”

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

He doesn’t fight with you as often…but he still fights with you. Nothing serious of course, but trolling each other has become as much of a love language as quality time is. Idia really does enjoy trash talking with you the most, if only because you turn it into a competition. When you lose, he makes you do something silly. Like uh, marrying his character in Sunfall Brookes…

Worry not! Idia, being the super awesome and totally cool genius he is, has whipped something up so that Ortho is behind you at every turn. He can’t support your stupidity irl most of the time, but having his little brother (who is fully equipped with deadly laser guns) back you up is probably good enough. So it’s fine, you’re fine, worse comes to worst Ortho’ll pick you up and fly you right back to your loving boyfriend (who may or may not be waiting to hear about your stupid actions).

While you do share your potato chips now, it seems to have become a bit more troublesome. Like, what do you mean does he love Moonkiss Eclipse the Magical Sparkle Girl more than you? Of course he loves you more (pssssst Ortho can you hide the body pillow before my s/o pops me into a body bag). Your main enemy will be the thousands of fictional characters that Idia loves, so good luck!

Idia’s not like, super great at public displays of affection. He’s not great in public, in general. Your clinginess and kisses and whatnot will have to wait until you’re back at either his or your room, ‘kay? It’s worth it though, you get to see a shy, blushy Idia with flaming pink hair.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“I AM FINE, HUMAN! YOU CANNOT INJURE ME WITH YOUR WEAK HUMAN BODY!”

Neige’s sheepish apology is met with a loud, annoying, obnoxious response. It makes you want to deck the green haired man in the face just for damaging your eardrums. “Hey, cut it out, will you? You’re loud,” you click your tongue, glaring at him, “and very annoying.”

“HOW DARE YOU CALL ME ANNOYING, HUMAN?! I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I, SEBEK ZIGVOLT, ONE OF MALLEUS-SAMA’S MOST LOYAL RETAINERS, AM A FIGURE OF—”

You figure you’re unlikely to get anything useful out of this student whose head seems very deep inside his own ass. Just as you’re planning your escape route (or how to get away with murder), a voice that successfully stops the blabber arrives.

“Sebek?” a beautiful horned fae intercedes from the sidelines, “I thought you were with Silver and Lilia.”

“MY LIEGE!”

This is probably your cue to leave.

With your hand wrapped around Neige’s wrist, you whisk him far far away from this school’s legion of freaks. As good as the eye candy (the horned fae) was, another word from the green weirdo is bound to have you arrested after socking him in the gut.

“Y/N? Where are we going?” Neige asks hesitantly.

“To the cafe,” you answer curtly, “then after that we’re going right back for your SDC practice, okay? I cannot stand one more second with all these NRC students around.”

Exchange program:

RSA held a very, very random name drawing for the exchange student program, and surprise, it’s you! And apparently, during a housewarden meeting, Diasomnia offered to be your dorm during your stay (no one needs to know Diasomnia’s housewarden wasn’t there).

You start sort-of acquaintances with Silver, but he’s actually an amazing antithesis to you. Since, you know, you’re always blazing in your fiery temper and he’s just…asleep. Maybe not antithesis. Anyway he’s a good friend.

Being in the same dorm as Sebek does not make you tolerate him more. In fact, you butt heads so much that Lilia’s assigned someone in Diasomnia to always be watching the two of you when in the same room. Lilia is cool, he’s cute, he’s super fun. You get along nicely with him once you’ve gotten used to being jumpscared.

Malleus, to be honest, you barely ever saw. He’s a bit stuck in his own world, and it’s not as if you cross paths often in your schedule. He’s more a bystander in your world before something (a fight with one of his retainers, you can guess which one) happens, and you finally manage to call him a ‘friend’.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

My, you’ve got quite some courage, saying those things in front of the Prince of Briar Valley. Malleus doesn’t mind though, in fact, he welcomes it. He sees it as a sign that you’re friends. After all, none too many would do as you do and sass him, saying such crude and bold words. As long as you don’t cross a line, the fae prince will smile with a ready retort in light fun.

He thinks your antics are amusing, to say the least. But you know that thing where his superiority complex kind of comes out every once in a while? Yeah, he sees you as entertaining. Kinda condescending. The good thing about this is that he doesn’t get mad at the situations you find yourself in, plus it only takes a snap of his fingers to clean up your mess. The bad thing is that you feel like half a court jester.

Malleus understands your natural instinct to claim some place and things as territory. He’s a dragon fae, after all, and those myths and legends of their greed do hold some degree of merit. This extends to people? How interesting. Watches on with amusement as you tackle a student to the ground for calling Lilia ‘weird’.

In all his years of living, this is the first time that anything has made him feel this way. There’s a bitter taste lingering on the back of his tongue, and neon green sparks curl and flicker around his fingers. It’s out of his control, he can’t help it; you’re so unbelievably unlike yourself right now it’s driving him insane. Why would you cuddle with Silver under a tree like this? Do you feel something for his knight? Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Love story climax:

“Beloved.”

The word is strange, weighing heavily on his lips. And yet, as he watches your sleeping figure, mind almost subconsciously erasing Silver from the picture, he finds it to be a word befitting of you. Lovely. “It will be dark soon,” Malleus whispers, and the prince is brought to his knees next to you if only so that you may hear his yearning, “it is best to return indoors and sleep there.”

Your eyes flutter open; you are a vision he cannot ever hope to erase from his mind.

“Sorry, I was,” you let out a soft yawn, stretching your limbs, “I got really tired from PE. Oh, I should wake up Silver.”

Malleus can’t help the lightning that zooms across his fingertips. You didn’t seem to notice the term he’d used for you, still addled from sleep. You’re focused on gently shaking his retainer awake.

It matters not, for you will be his soon enough.

(How could you ever hope to be more territorial than a dragon, dearest?)

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Being assertive and straightforward with your words is a great trait of rulers, beloved (yeah, in a relationship means he’s planning for marriage babe, keep up). Sass and sarcasm will have to be taken down a notch though, although he loves you, the faes in Briar Valley are old and not very accommodating of your hobby of wordplay. He does enjoy it, however, so feel free to speak as you wish when the two of you are alone.

In this kind of situation, he babies you a lot more. It’s not really condescension though, he believes that you can handle yourself especially since he now sees you as an equal. But Malleus is highly, if not overly, indulgent of the one he loves. Sees no need to change it unless something big happens. Is more liable to clean up after your messes, this time out of love.

Malleus thinks you’re so adorable when you’re jealous, with the way you get so fussy and protective over him. It’s not as if you really have a reason for jealousy, the prince is less ‘lusted after by many suitors’ and more feared. At least, that’s what he believes. So you only have Lilia and Silver to comfort you after a long day of fighting with his many many admirers.

Have a sense of decorum, dear, a public place is not suitable for displays of affection. Or so he says, but really, who is Malleus to stop you if you wish to be loving and sweet? He’ll melt faster than you can even say his name. He will have to hold back on reciprocating temporarily, but rest assured he has a mental tally and will be repaying you threefold once you’re in his private quarters.

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst housewardens

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 8 months

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LOTR/ The Hobbit Preference: How You Met (2/4)

(1) (3) (4)

Kili

You and Kili meet during the quest to reclaim Erebor. Oddly enough you arrived on the quest right as the company were in the middle of fighting off a bunch of orcs. Gandalf was relieved to see you but the presence of such a cute human woman seemed to confused the rest of the company.

“Y/N! Thank the Valar you’re here!” Gandalf shouted as you walked into the fight.

Kili was confused and as he looked to see the sweet looking woman, he was awestruck. His awe and confusion only intensified as you were running towards him sword drawn.

“Get down!” He heard you shout as you pushed him aside, your blade landing in the guts of an orc.

Before he had the chance to thank you, you were off. Managing to slay just as many as the rest of the company combined, they all looked at you in awe.

“Guess I’ll be a good asset to the team.” You smile at the group of dwarves as you make your way back over to them.

“Especially to keep you safe.” You wink at Kili, causing the prince to smirk and blush.

Legolas

Legolas and you meet when he goes to Rohan to meet with his friend Eomer. You worked as a barmaid at one of the pubs in town and manage to make the sweet elf blush.

“Hello, your highness. The regular today?” You ask as you approach the table Eomer and Legolas sat at.

“Yes and please, just Eomer.” He politely replies.

“So sorry, and who is our lovely elf friend?” You ask smirking as you turned to a very cute blushing Legolas.

“This is Legolas. He is the prince of the woodland realm.” Eomer introduced.

“Would you like me to call you ‘your highness’ or just Legolas, sweetheart?” You ask the cute elf, now completely ignoring Eomer.

“Uh, ahem, a-ah, ju-just Legolas, is fine.” He shyly stutters out, earning a chuckle disguised as a cough from his friend, and sweet giggle from you.

“How long are you in town for, Legolas?” You ask him, your whole body now facing Legolas.

“Uh-ah, a-a couple more days.” He replies as a blush grows on his pale cheeks.

“Well I guess you’ll have to come back before you leave so you can take me somewhere nice.” You smirk and wink as you turn around, leaving a smirking Eomer and a blushing Legolas.

Lindir

Lindir and you meet when your friend Bard takes you to Rivendell for a spring festival. You watch Lindir play so beautifully that you become enthralled.

As Lindirs performance comes to an end you can’t help but enthusiastically cheer louder than the rest of the audience, embarrassing you slightly but leaving a light blush on Lindirs cheeks.

“You play so beautifully. We don’t have music like that where I’m from; your music sounds like something from a lovely dream.” You can’t help but gush at the sweet elf.

“We-well, thank you very much, I appreciated your applause. It’s not the response I usually get from other elves but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, my lady.” He confessed.

“I’m glad you appreciated it, I was a little embarrassed but I’m glad it brought you joy. I’m not very used to elven culture.” You shyly smile.

“Perhaps I could show you around the festivities, make you feel a bit more comfortable.” He offered.

“That sounds lovely.” You agree as you take the arm he offers.

#Kili #Kili x reader #Kili imagine #legolas #legolas imagine #legolas x reader #Lindir #Lindir x reader #Lindir imagine #lotr #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine

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welcomingdisaster · 10 months

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second age middle-earth tumblr simulator

🪷 theancientarts Follow

i miss beleriand fr

🪷 theancientarts Follow

do you kids even know about the pools of ivrin

( 10 notes )

#used to make fun of people who said they feel old #joke on me ig

🔨 gettinghammered Follow

You go to Eregion to marvel at the fruits of elven-craft. I go to Eregion to FUCK DWARVES. We are not the same

( 4 0 1 notes )

#nsft mention #thirsty posting

🐻tinnilinthewoods Follow

portrait of elros half-elven got me yearning for the fate of man in the club tonight...

❄️tinuvielstanaccount Follow

do you know he has a twin brother

🐻tinnilinthewoods Follow

girl i'm not gonna lie to you the salt and pepper is literally 80% of the appeal

( 3 0 5 notes)

🌊beachsidewanderer Follow

anyone who says morgoth was the epitome of evil has never met a seagull

🌊beachsidewanderer Follow

stop reblogging this i cannot afford to go even a little viral right now

( 1 3 8 9 notes )

💥 butthatsjustanelftheory Follow

Soo....

( 18 notes )

🌌starmirror Follow

#i swear everyone cares more about who my dad is than my ability to do my thrice-cursed job #shut up!! shut up!! #sooo close to just fucking with people about this

( 4 notes )

☘️ cloverthorns Follow

i could get that old man sopping wet and pregnant

☘️ cloverthorns Follow

✨this post is about lord celebrimbor of eregion ✨

( 4 9 2 0 notes )

#lena speaks #silly shit tag #sorry for doing another these are so fun

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spxllcxstxr · 22 days

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Being a Maia Witch and in the Fellowship • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi, if you're taking requests, can I get headcanons for the Fellowship? The reader is a Maia witch and is sort of a colleague of Gandalf's but he's also a bit of a mentor. Just interested to see how you think everyone would interact with the reader :) thank you so much and I hope you stay safe, happy, and healthy — anon

Warnings: reader is one of the blue wizards, mostly gender neutral though you are called a witch, mix of book and movie canon

A.N: Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you enjoy these hcs, I really enjoy writing about the fellowship!

•

Since stepping foot on Middle Earth you had always been a wanderer

Of course you had spent time with the other Maiar; though you had your own specialized magic, Gandalf mentored you a lot

You always felt closer to Radagast the Brown; he cared deeply about nature and the living world that you lived in

You had been known to almost vanish for years at a time, exploring some deep cavern or somewhere high in mountains, it was always on a whim

You were elusive--all the races of Middle Earth had their own names and tall tales about you

But as the Age of the Elves starts to dwindle you start to ease down on the amount of adventures you have

Until your dear old friend Gandalf the Grey shows up on your doorstep out of breath with and almost crazed look in his eyes

A hobbit has the One Ring

So much for not traveling

You join the Fellowship at the Council of Elrond--no one opposes having another magical being in their midst

You try to get to know the other members better, it has been some time since you have interacted with people so your communication skills are a little rusty

Gandalf trusts you, of course, he is thrilled you have agreed to join them

He confides in you about the quest and the situation; things he would not tell the others

You two understand each other in a way no one else in the Fellowship can

The two of you, to fill the time, talk about your own travels and the history of Middle Earth

"You have been gone for too long, (Y/n), Middle Earth has suffered in your absence."

"Oh Gandalf, I needed to see everything before it was too late."

Boromir is a little wary of you, in Gondor they believe your presence is a bad omen since you do not show yourself too frequently near Minas Tirith

He warms up to you while travelling to the Mines of Moria because you and Gandalf exerted so much power trying to save them

"You are not the ill portent my father has talked about, witch. Why did you avoid Minas Tirith for so long?"

Aragorn has probably seen glimpses of you throughout his life and because of his travels he has heard many stories about you

Honestly he's very intrigued and asks many questions about what you have seen

He really trusts you almost immediately, you were welcomed in Rivendell, showing that Elrond trusted you

In Lothlorien Galadriel also holds you in high esteem, she's surprised you're in the Fellowship; not because you do not care about the fate of Middle Earth, but because you never tend to stay in one place long

"You must guide me, (Y/n). With Gandalf lost...I cannot proceed without council..."

Legolas is all over you--endless questions about the world and the time that has passed, but in like a subdued manner

He trusts you, though in recent years your reputation has been tarnished by his father, who is of the thought that you and the other wizards should have helped them fight against the spiders. He believes the Greenwood fell to darkness due to the negligence of the wizards

"Do you believe the Greenwood will be cured after we destroy the Ring, (Y/n)? I have missed my home..."

Gimli goes through the motions of meeting a witch only a handful of people have encountered in your lifetime

He's the one that discovered your sense of humor and loves joking with you

You ask him about recent dwarven culture, dwarves are wary of outsiders so it has been a while since you have seen their tools and creations

"Just you wait, lass, what we have created is unlike anything you have ever seen!"

Merry is genuinely delighted that you joined them

He feels a lot safer with two wizards, even if you’re not that experienced with fighting

Merry trusts your judgement and certainly looks for your approval just like he does with Gandalf

(Also please show him magic he loves Gandalf’s fireworks and he wants to see what else magic can do since Gandalf doesn’t really show anyone that stuff)

“Can you make Boromir’s shield disappear, (Y/n)? Or perhaps make Legolas’ hair a different color?”

Pippin is like Merry on crack

He wants to know every little detail about everything but at the same time he is chewing your ear off

Honestly he’s probably telling you his life story too

He enjoys your company, like Merry he feels a lot more secure in this quest and he also comes to see you as a friend

Wants to see your magic, even if you just create sparks at your fingertips

Probably your number one fan

“Can I see your staff (Y/n)? I promise not to use it to singe Gandalf’s beard!”

Sam is very shy around you and is very protective of Frodo

Sure Gandalf trusts you, but you’ve only ever been a fable in the Shire

He knows nothing about you, what have you been doing this entire time?

He does warm up to you, though, once you prove to him that you are truly there to help them succeed

Learns a lot about herbs from you, whether they be for cooking or medicine

“Tell me about the Elves, (Y/n). You must know so much about them. Rivendell was so beautiful…”

Frodo is highly suspicious of you for quite a while

It is mostly because he is afraid of the Ring and its influence

He doesn’t know you like he knows Gandalf so it takes him a bit to trust you

Bilbo has only told him rumors of you

It isn’t until Gandalf dies that he really starts looking to you for guidance

He takes to you mostly at night when everyone is asleep because he is away from prying eyes

“This quest leads me to my death, doesn’t it witch? I do not know how to even begin to understand that…”

Overall you guys learn to bond and grow together throughout the quest

You have never been so happy to be around people despite the circumstances, and you start to understand why Gandalf has always been so involved with the people of Middle Earth

•

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middleearthpixie · 1 year

Note

Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏

Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜

The Harp

Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.

Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room.

The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.

You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice.

Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups.

“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”

“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”

“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”

He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”

His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”

That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”

“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.

“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”

A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?

No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.

Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”

To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.

“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”

You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”

“And yours as well.”

Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”

“I will be here.”

Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him.

The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh.

He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations.

The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop.

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it.

That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand.

It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.

But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else.

How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee.

If only…

He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.

You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”

Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”

“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”

“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”

You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?

But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”

****

What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so.

But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.

You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left.

You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”

“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”

“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”

He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”

“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes?

You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there.

And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.

But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”

Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”

“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.”

Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.

Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.

It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.

So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood.

Blacksmith

Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him.

But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.

So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold.

He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare.

Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.

The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.

“Thorin?”

He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”

“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”

“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”

“Might I see?”

“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples.

“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had.

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.”

His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.

“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“Don’t?”

You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well.

“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”

You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.

With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

“Well, you have to open it to find out.”

He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”

“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”

“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”

“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”

“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”

“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”

“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”

“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”

He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”

And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.

But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own.

Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.

His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms.

When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”

“Hardly.”

“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”

“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”

To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”

“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”

“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”

He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”

“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”

“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”

A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.

“You what?” you asked softly.

“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”

“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”

“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”

“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”

This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”

“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”

He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”

“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.

***

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lonicera-edulis · 8 months

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Bofur 10,16,24 (art is not necessary, just text is also fine - up to you)

Interesting choice for questions! Thanks for choosing Bofur, and I'd like to make more art with members of Thorin's company, so here it is.

10. "Describe the character in one sentence." - Class clown of Middle Earth.

16. "A childhood headcanon." - I like the idea of him getting his hat from his dad (my lotro character also got a hat from their father; I just came up with this recently, ok xD).

24. "What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?" - Oh woah. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I've seen somewhere that in a draft script he was supposed to confront dragonsick Thorin (instead of Dwalin (?), but I like the final version more because it is more difficult for Dwalin to do this). We still can play around this scenario and maybe create some backstory?

Maybe back in Ered Luin when he was a young miner he found some rare relics. And the other miner who worked with him (and maybe was in some illegal band with Nori too) offered to keep it hidden from a supervisor and sell it to Men for extra cash.

Bofur doubted, he knew well that these relics are important to dwarves. He kept treasure to himself while thinking on the offer from another miner. At the time he and his younger brother were under supervision of Bifur (parents are already gone due to tragic circumstances). And both Bifur and Bombur were very sick and Bofur had to work alone and also to take care after them.

So there is a dilemma in front of him: to help his family or to betray his people's values which I believe also is a big crime. And he chose family, which saved them. But he never told of this deed, he was both glad and ashamed. And yet, he would do this again, choosing saving people dear to him over items.

#ask games #the hobbit

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artifeast · 3 months

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Cursed Dungeon Meshi AU, with a vague attempt at the manga's style. They are 17 inches shorter than their canon heights. Maintained the height differences though!

Telesphore is an elf of course, Colette is a half-foot/tallman, and Eisen is a gnome. WAY too many miscellaneous thoughts about this AU under the cut. There miight be worldbuilding spoilers if you haven't read the DunMesh manga and bonus material

Telesphore is an elf because, obviously

Eisen's a gnome because that gave me a decent height difference with Telesphore while still giving him strong magic capabilities. He might have a bit of dwarf in him, though

Colette's mother was a half-foot, and her father is a tall-man with a half-foot grandparent. Colette is still taller than the average considering her heritage (I did MATH about this. and jsyk the numbers worked beautifully). I wanted her to not be particularly innately magical, and also this would give her an appropriate height in comparison to Telesphore and Eisen. Like, the AU is already gonna be cursed with how Telsie has to get shrunken, but it'd be even worse if Colette was a tallman and 8 inches taller than him LMAO

Colette still has the Kingmaker in this AU, though I forgot to draw it. In this, it's an ancient elven magical artifact.

Colette's still 25, while Telesphore and Eisen are the same age (190). I made an age comparison chart for the Dungeon Meshi races a while back, taking into account both age of maturity and life expectancy, and according to it, 190 makes Telesphore the equivalent of about 29 and Eisen the equivalent of about 47.5, which is close enough. This AU loses the dynamic of Telesphore being alive for hundreds of years longer than Eisen, and in fact makes Eisen the older one of the two (aging-wise) from the very start, but eh, I think it still works. There's still lifespan angst since Eisen only has 50 years before he hits the average life expectancy for gnomes, while Telesphore has another 210 years. Also I think them remaining the same age, as opposed to canon, but still aging differently is kinda fun.

The Kingdom of Valor is somewhere in the middle of the Eastern Continent, landlocked like in canon. The population is primarily half-foots, but there are also a good deal of gnomes and dwarves, as expected from the region. More interestingly, there is a community of elves.

Within Valor is the Seltsamwald, a bizarre and massive surface-level dungeon in the form of a dangerous forest that stretches for miles, held in check by incredibly powerful ancient magic forming a barrier around it. The elves are investigating it and maintaining it. There is no immortality spell in the Seltsamwald. The lord of the dungeon has not been found, but doesn't appear to be particularly active; in fact, despite being clearly contained and rather active in terms of monsters, it retains many properties of a natural dungeon. Some have theorized that it actually is a natural dungeon that's spread too far, perhaps cultivated by a mage in ages past, that was then sealed closed when it grew too powerful. However, it's not sealed entirely shut, and is kept alive mostly by the elves investigating it. There is very limited non-elf foot traffic, with it mostly being criminals that sneak into its maze-like forest. The Seltsamwald has been kept stable like this for hundreds of years. More recently, a group of elves have formed a small town within the dungeon as a sort of research post, named Sorbus.

Also within Valor are at least two magic schools, located there due to the plentiful mana from the Seltsamwald. One is for gnomish magic, and one is for elven magic.

The Desrosiers were half-foots. Ariadne is a tallman that's managed to prolong her life using ancient magic. (Though even still, in this AU she probably murdered Eisen's parents when he was the equivalent of like... 37, rather than 18)

I've spent a LOT of time thinking about it and I've decided not to try to translate the revolution and the closed Kehrseite portal situation into this AU. It's much easier to say Telesphore not being able to go home is just… a personal issue, because he's a wanted criminal on the Northern Central Continent, LOL. And the revolution's just a huge mess... I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I excluded the Good Neighbors/elves from the proceedings, though. These fantasy medieval ages are allowed a little populist revolution

#the kingmaker histories #telesphore winterlich #colette geise #eisen iyer #my art #5am art once again oops #actually almost 7AM as i'm posting this #this is really really cursed. i shrunk my boys #telesphore couldn't NOT be an elf though. unfortunately #i've been a fan of dungeon meshi since 2019 :3c sadly never drew much fanart though #i'm really glad to see more people liking it nowadays with the anime releasing. though also it's scary #ik i'm speaking nonsense with my adaptation of the seltsamwald into the dunmesh universe but it was fun

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glorf1ndel · 1 year

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It’s time to answer an important question. Where in Middle Earth would you live? If not one of these options, let me know in the tags/reblogs!

#lotr #lord of the rings #silm #Silmarillion #the hobbit #Tolkien #Tolkien polls

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cilil · 4 months

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Nerdanel's origin

Finally getting around to talk about one of my favorite recent headcanons (I have @thecoolblackwaves to thank for motivating me), yet another one that started out as crack and then I fell in love with it.

Tldr: Nerdanel's mysterious absent mother is none other than Aulë.

Here's the idea. We know that Aulë was not only very excited about the arrival of Ilúvatar's Children (a detail about him that was already present in Lost Tales and is very cute), but also wanted children of his own, so much so that he went behind Eru's and Yavanna's backs to create his Dwarves. In the end he got to keep them too, but he had to "put them away" to awaken later and they also live in Middle-earth and not with him (at least not in life).

So when Mahtan and Aulë grew close and started to hang out a lot, they probably got drunk one night and Mahtan confided in Aulë, saying that he'd love to have a child, to which Aulë is like "me too, bestie" and they decide to just have one together. Between Aulë's Ainurin shapeshifting and his apparent ability to just construct fully biologically functional bodies in his backyard, they did just fine and baby Nerdanel was born (I have the cutest mental image of a little girl sitting on the broad shoulders of her big strong forge dads).

Now Aulë and Mahtan decided to keep this a secret, probably because some sort of Valar rules may or may not have been bent a little in the process. What Yavanna would think of this depends on how everyone's own headcanons regarding Ainurin marriages, but it may be a bit embarrassing for her that her husband keeps procreating with either himself or other people who are not her. Also they don't want little Nerdanel to grow up being regarded as a weird cryptid.

So Mahtan proceeded to raise Nerdanel, acting like he totally had a thing with some woman somewhere, and Aulë supported them to the best of his ability, which mostly means teaching them cool stuff.

Nerdanel grew up looking like a normal Elf (huge relief for poor Mahtan), the main indicator of her Valarin heritage being that she's quite strong (she definitely picked up Fëanor and threw him over her shoulder constantly), carrying her statues around on her own without breaking a sweat. Aulë and Mahtan taught her the basics of smith-craft, but since sculpting is her passion, she switched to that and Aulë showed her some cool tricks with that instead.

Inevitably, Nerdanel started asking questions and one day found out the truth about her "mother". She then made Aulë and Mahtan promise that they'd all keep it secret because she wanted to be known and liked for being Nerdanel, not for being some experiment of Aulë's. They agreed and have kept their word. She also never told Fëanor, at first because she didn't want him to become interested in her only for her connection to Aulë and in the years after because she didn't want to damage their relationship. Fëanor remains unaware to this day, though is still impressed by his wife's strength, particularly when it came to doing what she does on top of carrying his sons.

So yeah, that's the idea. Nerdanel also shares some of her core traits with Aulë, such as being free of mind, thirsty for knowledge and strong-willed, but also patient. You could even see parallels between her relationship with Fëanor and Aulë's relationship with Yavanna, as Fëanor and Yavanna both have quite a temper and need a spouse who can take that.

#headcanons #my headcanons #nerdanel #mahtan #aule #aulë #silmarillion

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chaussetteblanche · 2 months

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just like the wind - VIII

summary: the Fellowship is ambushed in Moria word count: 1'618 warnings: violence

The Fellowship follows Gandalf into a large open space. You cannot see anything beyond the wizard and wonder where you find yourself. You spot what looks like pieces of broken columns. The wizard raises his staff.

“Let us risk a little more light,” he speaks softly. As his orb of light becomes stronger, an immense stone hall full of tall pillars and arched ceilings are illuminated. Your lips part in surprise as you look around you.

“Behold the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf,” presents Gandalf. Gimli draws in a sharp breath.

“Now there’s an eye-opener and no mistake,” gasps Sam, bewildered. You can’t help but agree, despite all the chaos, the hall is magnificent. A newfound respect for Dwarf architecture and Dwarves in general awakes somewhere inside you. The Fellowship walks across the hall slowly. Through another doorway, Gimli spots a ray of sunlight. "Haugh!" he cries out as he runs into the chamber. "Gimli!" you whisper-shout, rushing after him. You suck in a pained breath when you see the contents of the large room, heart hammering inside your chest. The smell is overwhelming and you resist the urge to gag. Corpses upon corpses litter the ground. Weapons are strewn everywhere. Gimli freezes and kneels by a crypt in the middle of the room. A single stream of sunshine illuminates it. Gandalf walks forward and peers at the tomb's surface.

"No! No!" Gimli cries. He chokeson a sob. "No!" You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it, hoping to give him at least some sort of comfort. Gandalf's fingers trail across the writing on the tomb. Boromir places a hand on Gimli's other shoulder. You exchange a heavy look. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf reads, "He is dead then. It's as I feared." Gimli continues to wail helplessly. His cries break your heart. The wizard gives his staff and hat to Pippin, bends down, and takes a large and battered book from a corpse's hands. He opens it and clears the dirt from its pages. Gimli, still sobbing, starts singing softly: "Kilmin malur ni zaram kalil ra narag. Kheled-zâram… Balin tazlifi." You listen somberly to his lament before removing your hand from his shoulder and trudging over to Aragorn and Legolas. "We must move, we cannot linger!" Legolas presses. You both nod along to his words. "They have taken the bridge... and the second hall," Gandalf continues to read. Gimli abruptly stops sobbing and looks up to Gandalf blankly. "We have barred the gates… but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes." Pippin, still holding the wizard's hat and staff, backs away slowly. "Drums… drums… in the deep." He turns a smudged, bloodstained page. You glance around the room uncomfortably, as do the others. "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark."

Your stomach feels as though it is turning itself inside out. You don't want to hear what the Dwarves had written any more. You walk to the door at the entrance of the room. Your ears ring slightly as you lean against a door, wary of the arrows stuck inside it. The smell of death is overwhelming. You feel like you can't breathe. Pippin stumbles back and sees a corpse with an arrow lodged in its chest, sitting by a stone well. He turns towards it. You glance at him over your shoulder but look away, trying to steady your breathing and get rid of the everlasting urge to throw up. "We cannot get out…" He glances at the last, single line, a scrawl fading out at the bottom of the page. Gandalf looks up in the heavy silence. "They are coming." The silence is broken by Pippin. Curious, the Hobbit reaches out and lightly twists the arrow in the corpse. The skull slips off, falling into the well with a resounding crash. Gandalf whips around, a furious look gracing his features. The rest of the Fellowship jumps at the loud sound. Pippin turns to face the wizard, looking guilty. As he does, the rest of the corpse slips into the well, dragging with it a chain and bucket. Crashes and bangs echo from hall to hall far below. Pippin winces at each wave of noise, as do you. You feel sick to your stomach.

Gandalf slams the book shut. "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" he booms. You frown at his words. He pulls his hat and staff from the Hobbit's hands roughly without sparing him a glance. "Hey, easy. It was an accident!" you defend the small Hobbit, ignoring the urge to retch. Gandalf grunts in response. You roll your eyes and walk over to Pippin. You ruffle his hair and give him a small grin: "Don't worry about it, it could have happened to anyone. And him," you whisper, pointing to the wizard, who had turned away, "he's just a bitter, old man." Pippin grins back at you, but it does not last.

Drums are heard booming. Your heart falls into your stomach and you feel the colour leaving your face. Gandalf slowly turns back around, Pippin following his movements, staring down into the well. More drums. Your heartbeat hammers inside your ears. "Frodo!" Sam cries. The Ring Bearer’s sword is glowing blue. "Orcs!" Legolas yells. Fear is evident in the Hobbits' features. Deciding this was not the time to vomit, you push the urge back down and take in a deep breath. You rush to the doors to have a look at what might be happening outside. An arrow flies right into the door, mere centimetres from your face. Your eyes widen slightly and you jerk your head back. Aragorn drops his torch and runs over to you. "Get back! You stay close to Gandalf!" he yells to the Hobbits. You start pushing a door shut with a grunt. Aragorn copies your actions, pushing the other door closed. A loud bellow is heard from the other side. You recognize the sound immediately. "They have a cave troll, how wonderful," you state sarcastically. Legolas picks up some weapons from the ground before throwing them to you and Aragorn. You barricade the door shut to the best of your ability. Normally, you would do anything but trap yourself in, but you had no other choice. You stand back and unsheathe your sword.

The Fellowship stands at the ready. Gandalf throws his hat to the side and pulls out his sword. He lets out a battle cry. The Hobbits brandish their short-swords. Sting glows blue in the dimly lit room. Gimli jumps on top of Balin's tomb and brandishes his axe. "Argh! Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" he hollers. You can’t help but admire his resilience. His words give you strength as you turn to the door. The creatures on the other side of the door start breaking it down. Weapons crash through splintering spaces. You stand back, the grip on your sword so tight your knuckles start turning white. Legolas stands poised, ready to shoot. When the first clear gap is broken through the door, Legolas shoots. A chilling cry rings out. The Elf nocks another arrow as Aragorn shoots.

When the creatures finally break through your final defense, the battle begins. You take in a shaky breath before charging forward. A wave of armour-clad Orcs runs forward, yelling out battle cries. Aragorn pulls out his bow. He and Legolas nail Orcs with their arrows while you and Boromir cut others with your swords. Gimli aims for the stomach. With a cry, Gandalf runs into the fray, the Hobbits following closely. You behead an Orc and black blood spews forth, splashing in every direction. The urge to vomit resurfaces as you spit out the disgusting blood. You wipe the sticky liquid off your lips and gag. Sam pauses in the midst of the battle, his eyes glued to something very tall. You follow his eyes and sigh. It’s huge.

The cave troll smashes through the doorway with a growl, heavy chains leading from his wrists to an Orc's hand. Legolas shoots it in the shoulder. The arrow looks ridiculously small against his immense body. The beast howls in pain and claps a large hand to the wound. Sam is frozen on the spot. Just as the troll swings his mace down at the Hobbit, you cry out his name and he dives under its legs and crawls away. The troll turns around spots him once more. You heart pounds as you realize that the Hobbit is cornered. In a moment of sudden braveness, you run behind the beast. You behead the Orc holding on to his chains and take ahold of them yourself. You start pulling it away from Sam with all your strength. But with one hand pulling the heavy metal and another fending off Orcs, you don't make much of a difference. You yell for Boromir and Aragorn to come and help you. They arrive just as the beast raises his arm to strike. The three of you pull with all of your strength and he falls over before he can hit Sam.

The frustrated cave troll turns around and spots the three of you. Boromir and Aragorn have the right reflex and let go of the chains. You do not. The monster throws his arm to the left and you are whipped you across the chamber. You land in the recess of the wall, black spots dangerously dotting your vision. The last thing you see before you blackout is an Orc, standing over you, ready to strike a fatal blow.

#legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #legolas x you #lotr #lord of the rings #legolas imagine #lotr imagine #legolas

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11queensupreme11 · 3 months

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Okay okay wait…I just got an idea…what if..gem Percy got summoned into Middle Earth by Gandalf?….Gandalf found a powerful summoning spell said that it summon the most powerful child of the gods to assist you..the god of Olympus knee about Gandalf summoning so who do they send..Percy..without her knowing about it of course…so Percy teleports in front of Gandalf all confused and Gandalf doesn’t believe she is a child of the gods so he takes her in to help her thinking the summoning didn’t work..she stays with Gandalf not telling him that she is a child of a god not wanting to be sent to war again..so she travels with him as he finds Thorin and gathers the company at the Shire…all of them don’t believe she is the child of the gods so Gandalf wants to stay out of the Quest and Percy would’ve overjoyed with not going in a quest but..where would she go?..:she only knows Gandalf in this strange world and he can be her only chance to be sent back to her home..so she is stubborn and Gandalf has no choice but to let her join the company…Thorin is reluctant to let her join cause he thinks she looks like and elf with her godly looks and her beautiful unique eyes…and if you have read the books or seen the movies everyone in the hobbit are pale skinned or light skinned..so they have never seen anyone like her before which does catches the company’s attention but not enough to make them believe she’s a child of the gods..

this post just brought back memories

it's been such a long time since i watched the lord of the rings movies (and i even read one of the books for school, but i hated it)!!!!!

also, percy would TOTALLY keep her demigod status a secret. mostly because she's not the type to go around telling ppl about it anyway, but if she knew that she was summoned BECAUSE they needed a demigod to help them? oh yeah she's definitely keeping that secret to the grave 😂😂

tbh, she probably wouldn't even go with them to the journey cuz she wants to relax (she was supposed to be in retirement after the war LMAO) but if she spends enough time with the crew THEN she would ask to join just to make sure they're okay

AND THE ELVES AJSBFJHFV she's gonna be so culture-shocked by them like "why are there so many white ppl here 🧍🏽‍♀️"

WAIT OMG

i just realized, aren't the crew all dwarves or something so they're probably somewhere around 5 feet right??? PERCY'S 5'10" ASS WOULD BE SO HAPPY CUZ SHE'D ACTUALLY BE SO TALL WITH THEM UNLIKE IN ROR WHERE SHE'S SHORT AF 😭😭😭

i googled the average height of elves, and she'd still be a lil short to them unfortunately (tho idk how accurate this is):

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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scoutpologist · 3 months

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just saw something in pinterest comments about how hobbits might have a hummingbird-like metabolism and i’m honestly really interested and fully believe that. it makes me wonder about the metabolism of other species in middle earth.

starting with hobbits, they have seven meals a day and are VERY small, which means all that energy has to go somewhere. in the lotr movies we see sam (i believe?) eat multiple pieces of lembas bread, an elven bread made to fill the stomach from one small bite, indicating that hobbits can eat a LOT of food and possibly require quite a lot. it's also unlikely that every daily meal for hobbits is a full meal. it seems to be more intermittent snacking than the huge plates we're used to. from this we can assume that hobbits function a bit like birds, eating often and more than expected for their size throughout the day, expending that energy with their movement (as small creatures tend to have faster heartbeats).

elves clearly have very slow metabolism but don’t move slow to compensate for it, most likely for magic reasons. from what i can tell, they also almost exclusively eat plant-based food. i think that elves don't seem to enjoy or care for eating except only as a practicality, hence the existence of lembas bread. i can only assume that elvish food is imbued with a sort of magic to help sustain those who eat it. i'm not sure if they have proper crops or if they simply have gardens.

dwarves i imagine require a lot of energy as well because of the huge amounts of energy they expend. based on the "dwarves are natural sprinters" line (which is hilarious, yes), i think we can assume that they're built for large amounts of energy intake and expelling that energy fairly quickly. it's indicated that their diet has a lot of high protein meat in it as well. this would make sense for a people that does heavy manual labor and lives in areas (caves) that wouldn't have much ability to grow crops.

obviously humans are, well, humans, and have human metabolism. there's not much to comment on there. not gonna worry about orcs and goblins because they're not really explored that much lmfao

also this was all made without referencing any official writing on metabolism, culture, or food for each species so. address accordingly

#op #this is literally me just yapping about middle earth

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justsomerandomfanfic · 2 years

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The Siren's Song - Fili X Female Reader

Title: The Siren's Song

Fili X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Bilbo (Mentioned), Thorin, Kili, Bofur, Bifur, Nori, Ori, Bombur, Azog (Mentioned), Other Hobbit peeps (Mentioned), Gandalf (Mentioned), Smaug (Mentioned), and the rest of the Company (Mentioned)

WC: 3,223

Warnings: The Hobbit canon violence, death of main characters mentioned, Reader is a Siren, murder mentioned, flesh-eating fish mentioned, yelling, fighting (verbal), flirting, sassy/sarcastic Reader, blood mentioned, weapons mentioned, crying, angst, threats, orc death (yay), vomit mentioned, Everybody Lives AU, and fluffy ending

The company had been walking for hours it seemed. And they probably had been walking for hours, but the point is that their feet were hurting and they were in dire need of some rest. Though, as stubborn as the King was, Thorin kept going.

"No time for rest," He'd say as most of the company groaned, "We must make it to the next town before sundown."

But it had been hours. Walking and walking. They didn't even have ponies to ride on, and their backs hurt as they carried their heavy bags, supplies, and weapons. They wanted a break, they needed a break. Yet, their King wasn’t as merciful.

As the hot afternoon sun shone down on the Dwarves and one Hobbit, the bright forest they were wandering through, turned into a misty dark wood. The aura and atmosphere of the forest changed drastically with the change in temperature. The air was cooler as well as the smell, and the leaves crunched underfoot with every step they took.

Then, suddenly, the air turned freezing cold. It felt like an icy blast hit them all at once, making it feel as if they were standing on a high snowy mountain. They stayed quiet, wary of everything around them, even some pulling out their weapons, just in case. The company looked around, trying to find any sign of danger.

"Be still." Thorin commanded, his eyes narrowing as he looked around him, "Be at the ready for anything."

Then, suddenly, there was singing, coming from somewhere ahead of them. The song was enchanting and sweet, and it made the Company feel slightly more at ease. It was beautiful and melodious, almost like a lullaby; it sent shivers down the Company’s spines.

Fili felt his heartbeat quicken as his mind began to fog, and he couldn't seem to keep up with his thoughts. His head swam with emotions. Was it really a song? Was it just his imagination? He could see himself humming along to the melody, swaying back and forth… It was hypnotic and entrancing. Fili felt as if he was walking on a cloud, as his eyes drooped in a heavy daze until he stopped; pausing mid-step. The fog in his head slowly dissipated, as Fili blinked rapidly; confused. He looked around in panic, watching as the rest of the Company, even his Uncle, slowly, sluggishly walked towards a large lake.

Hypnotized, the Company headed straight for the dark lake, which seemed to be the source of the voice they were all hearing. The water was dark, deep, and misty; however, they didn't care about the lake -- they were all too enthralled by the beautiful song that came from within its depths.

Fili, who had broken free from the hypnotizing song, noticed something as he stared at the lake. Near the middle of it, there was a face, peaking out of the murky waters with bright eyes.

Fili watched as the eyes widened when he realized that the Company was walking closer and closer to what he realized was a Siren. He ran over to the front of the lake, pushing Thorin away from it just in time. Thorin's glazed-over eyes blinked, as he snapped out of his hypnotized state. He quickly realized the severity of the situation and with the help of his eldest nephew, they shook awake the rest of the Company.

"Oh..." The Siren from the waters sighed, "You're no fun."

Thorin turned and glared at you, "What did you do to us?" He demanded and you sighed, rolling your eyes.

"Hypnotized you with my song." You said simply. "A girl's gotta eat."

Kili furrowed his eyebrows, "You eat Dwarves?"

You let out a hauntingly beautiful laugh, "Oh no!" You giggled out, "I hypnotize people to become bait for me to eat. I sing, lure unsuspecting victims in, pull them into the lake, and then the flesh-eating fish will feast on you... While I feast on them."

There was a tense silence after you finished speaking. Then, Thorin spoke up, "Well, you are not going to turn us into a meal!" He exclaimed, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

"Well, I can't now. For one of you Dwarves has broken out of my spell." Your gaze slid over to stare at Fili before you slipped into the waters below. Fili looked around the lake before you popped out of the water, right in front of Fili; surprising him. "How did you do it?" You tilted your head to the side, your wet hair matted to your head, and parts of your face. "You should have drowned. How do you escape my enchantments?" You questioned. Fili opened his mouth to respond, but he closed it again. His heart was racing, and the blood rushed to his cheeks. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. You smirked when you noticed and laughed softly.

Thorin pushed Fili behind him, pointing his sword right in your face, making your eyes cross. "Stand back, Siren Temptress." He growled, "Or else we shall skewer you where you stand!"

Your eyebrow raised, amused. “Tempress?” You asked. Fili was shocked at how calm you sounded, despite being threatened, but also surprised at how little effect the threat had. “No one's ever called me that one before. I must say... I like it. But then again, no one's ever fallen out of my spells before." You smirked, tilting your head to the side to stare at Fili again; something about him fascinated you.

"I do not know." Fili answered, "I just felt this pull, and I could think again."

You hummed, "Well..." You ran your gaze across his figure, "You must be special." You mused. "So... Where are you all heading?" You asked and Thorin brought your attention back to him.

"Do not speak as if you had not tried to kill us all."

You glared up at Thorin, pushing the tip of the sword away from your face, "Do you not know that it's quite impolite to point a sword at a lady?"

Thorin scowled, "And yet you tried to harm us!"

"Now, now, Thorin. You play too rough," You chastised, placing a finger on your lips coyly, "That's hardly fair. I didn't mean to harm anyone. It's just my nature." Your brows lowered and you pout your lips.

His glare seemed to harden as he stared at you, "How do you know of me?"

"Oh, your reputation precedes you... Your Highness." Your words dripped with sarcasm and you chuckled, flicking your tail out of the water when Thorin flinched. That comment had hit a nerve. "I may be able to help you, you know." You hummed, eyes slyly dragging your gaze from Thorin to Fili. "I can hypnotize others. You might need me." You let out a dramatic sigh, “And, I’d just love to get out of this lake.”

Fili felt a slight chill run down his spine and he swallowed nervously; he couldn’t stop staring at you. "No! No, you will not come with us." Thorin yelled, as Kili nodded beside him.

"We can't have a Siren join the Company!" Bofur cried out as most of the other Dwarves nodded in agreement.

"I do not know..." Fili began, his eyes staring into yours, "She might be helpful."

The Company turned to look at the elder Prince, eyes wide in shock. "What!? Have you gone mad!?" Bifur exclaimed.

Nori nodded, "She'll eat us to bits, one by one!"

"He must be under her spell!" Ori shouted, backing away from you.

"Why would you want to help us!?" Bombur shouted.

"If we go with her, we all die!" Bofur yelled, trying to get through to Thorin.

Thorin ignored them as he stared at you, narrowing his eyes, "If you step one toe out of line, I will not hesitate to skewer you." He stated firmly.

Your eyes flashed gold, and you grinned devilishly, "Good thing you won't have to."

Your eyes flickered back to their original color, and you dipped the rest of your head back in the water. Fili furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at the water, confused and curious. He, and the rest of the Company, watched as the water bubbled as if it was boiling hot, and then, you rose out of the surface. Instead of your tail, it was replaced with legs, and thankfully whatever magic you used, had given you clothes. A simple billowy tunic, trousers, and boots. If anything, you were also ready for the adventure.

Thorin stared at you, skeptically before going ahead of the group, and leading the way. You saddled up beside Fili, incredibly intrigued by the Prince, and how he was able to break out of your spell. What was special about him? Was he truly immune to your charm? But, the longer you stared at him, the more you realized how handsome he was. His dirty blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and his little mustache braids… There was a sort of magnetism that drew you to him and made you feel like you wanted to be near him. It was strange.

"What should I call you, little Prince?" You asked, gaining his attention.

Fili turned to see you already looking at him, walking alongside him as you clasped your hands behind your back. "I am Fili." He introduced himself, face still flushed, "What is yours?" He asked, turning to face you.

"My name is Y/N." You replied, grinning.

Fili smiled at your response, "It suits you better than Siren."

"Hm. Or Temptress." You added, making him laugh lightly. Fili bit his lip, side-glancing at you with a playful smirk. You frowned slightly, "What are you grinning about?" You asked.

Fili shrugged, "Nothing really, just your company is nice."

"Is that so?" You raised an eyebrow teasingly, as Fili nodded.

"Yes."

You stopped and stared at him for a few moments before smiling, "Good. Because I think you are nice company too."

Kili couldn't help but overhear your conversation with his older brother, smiling slightly in amusement at the two of you.

~~~

Over the past couple of weeks, you had grown closer to the Prince and grew to actually really like him. He was a good person, and he cared very deeply about the people he cared about. You admired that about him. You were starting to notice things about him that you hadn't noticed before. The way he twiddled with his thumbs or how his demeanor changed when near his brother…

You liked seeing Fili happy, you enjoyed spending time with him, and you found yourself falling deeper and deeper with every passing day. You knew that you were in deep, but you didn't care. All you cared about was Fili. You'd been keeping that thought to yourself though. For fear that he might think of you differently if he found out that you had feelings for him. You didn’t want to say it… But you would show him with your sweet gestures.

"What is it like, wandering and going on adventures?" You asked softly, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping Dwarves or gain the attention of Kili who was on night watch.

Fili hummed, staring up at the stars with you, side by side, "Well," He began, "Sometimes it is dangerous, but other times it is quite... Peaceful." He glanced over to you, seeing how your eyes gazed upon the sky. Your face was illuminated by the light coming from the fire which lit up the small area in which the Company had set up camp. You were beautiful, especially with the moonlight shining off your skin. Like a Goddess sent from Mahal himself.

You glanced over at him and looked away shyly. "I wish I could've seen the world more. All my life, I have been in that lake, doing as my parents had taught me." You paused, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. "I never thought I would get the chance to see the world." You continued. Fili turned to face you, frowning slightly in concern.

"I understand." He murmured. "For a long time, I wanted to go out on adventures when I was younger."

You bit your lip, before turning your head to the side, looking at Fili, "I'm sorry for almost killing you and your friends."

Fili shook his head, "There's nothing for you to apologize for. It was your nature." You smiled sadly, nodding slightly in understanding before looking back at the starry sky. "What is it like being a Siren?" Fili questioned, breaking the silence between the two of you, "Being able to change your form?"

You blinked, your thoughts suddenly taking a turn. "It is very tiring. To say the least. Swimming all day… It takes a lot of strength." You looked back over at him, "What is it like being a Prince?"

A sad sigh escaped Fili's lips and he glanced up at the sky, "It's difficult, I suppose." He paused, "But I wouldn't trade it for anything." He gave you a small grin.

"Are you happy?" You asked him, and Filipused his lips, thinking before he nodded.

"Yes, I am happy." He looked back at you with his blue eyes, "Are you?"

You sighed, turning to look up at the stars as a shooting star flew by, "I am now." Your hand brushed against the soft grass, your hand bumping lightly into Fili's. His pinkie nudged yours, making your heart flutter. Slowly, his hand encased yours, and he squeezed gently, earning a small giggle from you.

"You're adorable." You said, giggling as he rolled his eyes playfully as his cheeks flushed once more.

"And you are enchanting, Y/N."

~~~

The Battle of the Five Armies was ongoing. There was so much blood and gore. You spent most, if not all of your time in your lake, so you never saw a battle like this before. You were doing your best to help Thorin and his Company, hypnotizing and mesmerizing orcs, forcing themselves to walk off cliffs or stab each other. The fighting was brutal, there was no mercy whatsoever. All dwarves, even though injured or wounded, refused to yield. It was overwhelming. But as you continued to sing, luring a bunch of orcs to kill one another, you took a glance around you, unable to find Fili; you went in search of him.

You began to panic when you made your way to the castle ruins up high on the mountain, eyes widening as you watched Fili, being held by Azog on the broken balcony of the ruins. You froze, petrified as you watched Azog stab Fili in the back, before tossing him away. You screamed as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your blood-curdling scream echoed throughout the mountain, causing many to cover their ears as they began to ring; even some vomited from your piercing yell. You quickly rushed over, falling down on your knees, pulling Fili close to you, his head resting on your lap. Tears streamed from your eyes as you looked down at his pale form. A large pool of blood surrounded him, staining your pants and knees; but you didn’t care. As you looked down at him, you began to sing again, hoping that your song would somehow heal the wound on his back. But nothing happened. Your heart clenched painfully. You began to shake as you gazed at him helplessly, watching as your song slowly faded away, leaving a dead silence in its wake.

Opening your eyes, you stared down at Fili's glazed-over eyes, your chest tightening, a painful lump forming in the pit of your stomach. Your breath hitched, choking back sobs as you placed your palm against the side of Fili's face. His cheek felt cold against your fingertips, making a whimper escape your lips. Biting your lip harshly, trying to stop yourself from crying, you pulled Fili close to you, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Please... Don't leave me." You whispered in his ear, and you shut your eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, the tears you had shed landed on Fili's cheeks, melting into his skin. And after a quick moment, he let out a faint groan, his eyes flickering open. Your eyes widened at his sudden sound, sitting upright as Fili let out a cough, wincing.

He opened his eyes, gazing up at you through half-closed eyelids. "Y/N?" He rasped. You looked at him, relief flooding over you as he sat up in front of you. You cupped his cheek, leaning forward, and placed a light kiss on his lips.

"You are awake." You breathed. He grinned softly.

"Am I dreaming? Is this real?" Fili asked, gazing intently at you.

"No, you're here. With me. You're alive." You responded, pressing your forehead against his own.

"I'm alive? How?" He asked softly, and you shook your head slightly.

"I do not know." You muttered, "But, I am oh-so glad you are alright." You let out a small laugh of relief.

"Me too, my Y/N." Fili told you, bringing his hands up to cup your face, and then pulling you towards him, kissing you tenderly. You returned the kiss, feeling relieved, and happy to finally have him back in your arms, safe and alive.

~~~

Thankfully, after the battle, Azog was killed by Thorin, and the battle for Erebor was won. Smaug was dead. And everyone, even the rest of the Company survived. You were currently lying beside Fili, who was snoring lightly while you traced circles onto his forearm, smiling slightly. Living in Erebor with your beloved was a dream come true. With help from Gandalf, you had found out about your merpeople. Along with that, you had found out the reason why Fili came back to life. Your tears. Your magic tears. Something you didn't even know about yourself. Which you were beyond grateful for.

You had fallen in love with Fili. He had fallen for you. You both loved each other so much that neither one of you ever felt like you could live without the other. You both were inseparable, never without each other; always be each other’s side. He was everything you needed and ever wanted. You loved him. You truly did.

Fili stirred beside you, opening his eyes and staring sleepily down at you. You reached up, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb, a small smile gracing your features. "Hey, you're finally awake." You commented, brushing some strands of hair away from his face before fidgeting with his courtship braid.

Fili yawned, "How long has it been?"

You shrugged slightly. "Since we went to bed last night." You answered, flicking his mustache braids playfully. "How are you feeling?" You asked curiously.

Fili groaned lightly, reaching his hand up to cup your cheek. "Perfect." He replied, chuckling tiredly, his thumb running soothingly across your cheek. His eyes landed on yours, gazing dreamily.

"Good," You whispered softly. Fili chuckled lightly as he leaned forward, capturing your lips, kissing you passionately, and wrapping his arms around your waist. You smiled into the kiss, tilting your head slightly to deepen it. Pulling apart slightly, you rested your forehead against his. "I love you." You mumbled softly.

"And I, you, my Y/N." Fili smiled, pecking your lips softly.

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ichoosechoasandbeingqueer · 2 years

Text

Stolen Away

This is Day 20 of Fili whumptober!

Warnings: a headache?

Word count: 740

After a long and grueling council session, Fili’s one saves him.

Please refer to the warnings of this story. If you go past this point you are consenting to reading this content.

Hours. It had been hours of screaming, yelling, threats and general disagreement, and the dwarven council of Erebor still had not come to an agreement. Fili could already feel the headache pulsing behind his eyes as he sat at the end of the table of aggravated darrow and dams each set on their own desires and caring not for any adjustments to help settle the arguments. Now, Fili loved being King. He loved his people, his home and what the dwarven empire at his fingertips stood for. But meetings like this made him want to run away and hide. He had already glanced at the door a few times debating on doing just that.

Ever since Thorin retired his title and ran away to the shire with his consort, Fili had been at wits end trying to appease his disciples. His brother helped as much as he could from his position, never have the elves and dwarves had such good relations and trade in their history allowing both civilizations to thrive in each other’s allyship, but on days like these, not even his brothers comforting smile could wash away Fili’s woes. He did know who could however.

“Ok, time for a break,” the dark haired Durin mutter to Fili’s right, his own frustrations showing in the bend of his brown and the slight snarl on his lips, “this meeting has officially been brought to a respite. Everyone is to report in an hour with their new points of topic suggestions. Go,”

There were grumbles and whines but Kili sent them a look of fire and strutted out the door, urging the rest to do the same. Soon enough the chamber was brought to quiet as Fili remained seated alone.

The King rubbed his face slowly and groaned into his hands, ignoring the mountains of paper work piled around him.

“So the echoes ring true, the King is in need of saving?” a light and tender voice called out, the sound alone bringing a smile to Fili’s lips. He peaked through his fingers with a pleading look, his heart calming at the sight of his beloved watching him in a mixture of concern and amusement. She came to sit on the table in front of him and held out a glass of orange coloured liquid, “Kili said the meeting was a rough one,”

A small ‘mmh’ sound was all he could muster as he accepted the glass, his headache lessening the moment it touched his tongue. He closed his eyes once more and leaned against his wife with a sigh.

“Oh my poor gem,” she chuckled, and Fili felt her hands taking away the crown on his head. She replaced it with her fingers running through his long golden locks. The feeling made him purr in delight, and he wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer, not willing to let her go anytime soon.

“I’m better now that you’re here my jewel,” he grinned up at her from were he sat. As cheesy as it was, he was delighted to see the flush of red across her cheeks.

“Silly dwarf,” she muttered leaning down to kiss the top of his head, “did you get anything done at least?”

“Not a thing,” he moaned back, “Everyone’s at each other’s throats, no one wants to do anything differently, even if it gets them to same results at the end, and I’m sure half on them only put up their ideas to annoy the other half,”

“And how long do you have until the meeting is interval is finished?”

“An hour or so,”

“Plenty of time to steal you away then?”

Fili caught the mischievous flint in her eyes as she spoke and sent her a knowing look.

“To were love? I’m tired,”

“To nap then, somewhere quiet and soft?”

“Then save me and steal me away jewel,”

He stood to take her hand but gasped as she lifted him from the ground, her strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him to her chest like he weighed nothing.

“Now what on middle earth are you doing?” he spluttered, the burning of his cheeks apparent.

“What does it look like?” she grinned, nuzzling into his cheek, “I’m stealing you away,”

And that’s what she did, and Fili couldn’t have cared less about the stares and strange looks he received being carried back to the safety of his chambers in his wife’s arms.

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨

See full 31 day whumptober 2022 Master List here

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middleearthpixie · 25 days

Text

The Ties That Bind ~ Chapter Six

Summary: Although Erebor is his once more, Thorin knows there is still a great threat to the peace of Middle Earth. Azog is gone, but another has taken his place and has sworn to finish what Azog began. Erebor is back, but it’s sadly lacking in protection and as much as he hates the thought of it, Thorin knows there is one thing that will guarantee the safety and continuation of his line.

War is coming and all Eirlys of Mirkwood wishes to do is fight alongside her brother Legolas and the other elves, united with Men and Dwarves in their attempt to quell the renewed tensions between them and the orc army of the north. But, her father, Thranduíl has other plans. Unite his kingdom with the newly reestablished kingdom of Erebor and use the power of both to defeat the orcs.

An arranged marriage that neither side wants, but both sides need. But what happens when the two sides realize that maybe—just maybe—being together isn't quite as bad as they'd thought...

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Eirlys of Mirkwood

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.2k

Read on AO3

The next morning dawned clear and cool, and Eirlys savored the tranquility of the woods. Orcs had been moving closer to the northern part of Mirkwood, but unlike her father, she didn't think they would ever breach the forest’s boundaries simply because of the spiders. They’d claimed the northernmost corner of the forest, not far from where she’d found Thorin, and she had the feeling that if she hadn’t found Thorin, the spiders would have. Again.

Even so, she still knew better than to venture anywhere in the forest without a weapon of some sort, so she brought both her bow and arrow and her dagger. Just to be safe.

Not that she ventured far. There was a stream that flowed through the center of the kingdom, enchanted in places, with the perfect fallen log nearby, where she preferred to sit and think when she had something serious to sit and think about.

Her upcoming wedding was definitely something serious.

So that was where she headed, her thoughts spinning with what awaited her in the weeks to come, and what would follow once she left Mirkwood, left the only home she’d ever known, to travel north to the kingdom of Erebor.

The arrangements were underway and she was supposed to be meeting with the seamstress to begin work on her wedding gown. Invitations had already gone out. The kitchens were working on the menus and someone—she had no inkling who—was in charge of the wine and liquor to be served.

But there she was, sitting in her tranquil space, pretending nothing was about to change.

Sunlight spilled through the canopy, melted most of the snow from the narrow, winding path. Birds sang overhead, their songs clear and crisp, and the occasional chipmunk darted across in front of her. She smiled at the sight of them, remembering when she was a child and spent much of her time alone, wandering the woods, just watching as the animals of that world went about their business. Little by little, they grew used to her, didn't dart off into the underbrush in fear.

She sank onto the fallen tree and leaned against the one that still stood behind it. As she watched the sunlight sparkle across the stream, she wondered if she would be able to find a stream somewhere near Erebor, somewhere she could just sit and think and not be bothered by anyone.

A tiny knot formed in the pit of her stomach when she thought about what life would be like in Erebor. And with each successive thought, that knot grew larger. Feeling apprehensive about this change had to be normal, didn't it? Would she be expected to not feel this way? After all, she’d never lived anywhere other than Mirkwood. To others, it was an enchanted—sometimes darkly so—wood, but to her? It was home. Here, she was just another elf. But in Erebor, she would be the outsider, the one to always be looked upon with suspicion, to be stared at. Especially given the history between the elves of Mirkwood and the dwarves of Erebor.

“Do you venture out here alone often?”

Eirlys jumped at the unexpected interruption and as she did, her hand went instinctively to the blade on her hip. She relaxed, her hand just resting on the sword’s grips. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a body that way. You might find yourself regretting it quickly.”

To her surprise, Thorin smiled. “I’ll take my chances.” He gestured to the fallen log. “May I?”

“Of course.”

He settled beside her. “It’s peaceful here. A far cry from the first time I ventured through these woods.”

“They can be tricky for a body not accustomed to the atmosphere.”

“That they are,” he bobbed his head, the silver ornaments woven into the long curls clinking against one another, flashing in the pale sunlight as he did. “The first time I was here, it took almost no time before I felt as if I was drunk. Drunk and disoriented and it wasn't at all pleasant. We wandered about, lost and growing angrier by the moment. It was… an adventure.”

“I remember hearing about it,” she smiled when he offered up a confused look, “from Tauriel. She and Legolas were both there when you were… well—” she winced—“captured."

“Oh,” he chuckled and nodded, “right. You would think I’d remember that. I went from staggering about in the woods to the dungeons of Mirkwood in the span of a few hours.”

His laugh was unexpectedly low and velvety, and her initial irritation at being bothered faded away. “I remember all too well. My father was quite satisfied with himself.”

“I’ll wager he was.”

“If it’s any consolation, he was impressed with how you stood up to him, even if it didn't work for you in the end. He respects strength.”

“Oh, that was respect, was it? It was difficult to tell at the time.”

“How did you manage to escape at all?” She looked over at him. “The dungeons are impermeable. Or so I’m told.”

“They are, except we had a hobbit who was good at being sneaky. I don’t know how he did it, but he swiped the keys and next thing we knew, we were in barrels, floating our way toward the Long Lake.”

“No wonder he was so furious. You not only got out of his dungeons, but snuck out of Mirkwood altogether?”

“Oh, yes. Master Baggins got your father’s guards drunk, lifted their keys, and we were on our way.”

Eirlys couldn't hold back her laugh. “Got them drunk? All of them?”

“I was locked away, remember, but yes, I believe it was all of them.”

“You’re joking with me, right?”

“I’m not, no.” He turned to her, his blue eyes actually dancing with mischief as he added, “We sailed down the river as if with wings. And if that wasn't enough, we were chased by orcs as well. It would have been exhilarating, were it not for the fact that we were being hunted.”

“Exhilarating?”

“Yes.” An emphatic nod accompanied his reply and his smile softened. “It was like flying, we sailed so fast. I’d never felt that free and I’ve yer to feel it again.”

A hint of a sigh accompanied his words and she nodded slowly. “I know that feeling. I used to have a horse, a mare called Willow, and there was nothing I loved as much as I did being in the saddle. The world was mine to explore and I did, from here to the Long Lake.”

“And your father allowed this?”

She nodded. “Oh, he encouraged it even. He knew I could defend myself if the need arose. I trained alongside Tauriel and Legolas, you know. And my mother—”

Her throat closed unexpectedly and the backs of her eyes stung mercilessly. She didn't often allow herself to think about her mother, telling herself she barely remembered her. But the truth was, thinking about her stung as much now it ever had. It never really went away, but until now, it never hurt as much.

“You don’t have to say any more if you’d rather not,” Thorin broke in softly.

“No,” she shook her head, “it’s all right. I simply need a minute.” She swallowed hard, and forced a smile as she said, “I miss her, is all.”

“Is she the reason you no longer ride?”

Eirlys nodded slowly, swiping at the tear that ran down her cheek. “I was out one day, on Willow and that’s when we realized orcs had finally ventured down to our borders. I had no idea they were there. Our scouts hadn’t seen them, otherwise neither my mother nor my father would have allowed me beyond the woods.

“But, they were there. I never saw them. Never heard them. An arrow whistled from nowhere and struck Willow through the eye. I sailed forward, over her head, and landed flat on my back. When I looked up, I was surrounded by them.”

She looked up and met Thorin’s sympathetic blue eyes. “My detail must have gone rushing back to get my father, for the next thing I knew, both my mother and father were there, running the orcs down, chasing them back to wherever it was they’d come from. I don’t know. I was whisked back here. I don’t even know where or if anyone took the time to bury Willow. I didn't know anything until my father returned. He was alone. She’d been killed up in Gundabad. They’d chased that bloody pack all the way back there.”

“I’m so sorry, Eirlys,” he said softly.

“I don't know what happened. Neither Legolas nor I do, really. All Papa would say was she’d died honorably, but we had no body to bury, no funeral. Just… nothing.” She pressed her lips together to try to keep them from quivering, to no avail. “I lost my horse, my mother, and my freedom, all in one fell swoop. Now, here is as far as I usually venture and I am terrified of what awaits me beyond these borders.”

“You have nothing to fear from me,” he told her, his voice low and growly. Her heart skipped a beat when his hand came up and his fingers curved gently against her cheek. “And you have nothing to fear from orcs, for I will not allow them within a league of you. I give you my word.”

“I’ve never been far from Mirkwood, you know. And—”

“You will be free to return whenever you wish. Eirlys, I’ve no intention of making you a prisoner in Erebor, you know.”

“I didn't think you would.” Her eyelids grew heavy as his thumb gently swept along her cheek. Her instinct was to lean into his touch, to let her eyes close and simply let the heat from his hand sink into her skin.

But she couldn't do that, and so she drew back. “Tell me about your family. Who awaits your return?”

He lowered his hand. “My sister Dís, and her sons. Fíli is the oldest and you’ve seen Kíli, as he’s the one Tauriel married. And I’m loosely related to most of the dwarves of Erebor, but it’s mostly distant.”

“No mother or father?”

“No. My mother died when I was very young and my father was killed in battle at Khazad-dûm. It seems you and I have that in common—family killed by Gundabad orcs.”

“It’s a terrible common ground to have.”

“It is,” he nodded slowly, “And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, to be honest. But, it is what it is.”

“True. It is pointless to dwell. So instead, I come here and I think.”

“And what do you think about?”

“Right now? This wedding. Moving to live under a mountain. Wondering what it’s like there. That sort of thing.”

He smiled as he rose and held out a hand. “Come and walk with me and I will tell you what to expect.”

She laid her hand in his, allowing him to draw her up. They were nearly eye to eye, and as she stood, she caught a hint of leather and snow. His fingers tightened about hers and as she met his gaze, she leaned in and without thinking, brushed his lips with hers.

Eirlys had no idea what possessed her to do such a thing and jerked back in horror. “I beg your pardon, Thorin,” she blurted, staring at him. “I didn't mean—that is, I don’t know why I did that.”

A hint of color rose along his cheekbones, but he smiled and subtly shook his head. “Please, there is no need to apologize.”

“Of course there is.” She stepped back as an embarrassed heat swept through her. She couldn’t believe she’d acted so impulsively. What was she thinking, being so… so forward… with him? He was a virtual stranger to her and yet she couldn't help herself. “Thorin, I—”

“Princess Eirlys?”

She spun about to see Arel, her guard, heading their way. “What is it?”

“Your father sent me.” He spoke in Silvan, the language of her people. “Miss Rania said you did not show up for your appointment. He was concerned, is all.”

“I needed a bit of fresh air,” she replied in kind, but then switched to Common Speech as she scowled at him. “And it’s rude to speak that way in front of His Majesty.”

Arel didn't look at all remorseful as he said, “He wishes to see you, Princess.”

“Of course.”

Arel turned to go back the way he came and as he disappeared around a bend in the trail, Eirlys met Thorin’s gaze. “I apologize for his rudeness.”

“Worry not,” he told her, then offered his arm, “I expect no less from some of your kin. But I should hate to have Thrandy annoyed as well, so I’ll see you back.”

“Thrandy?”

Thorin’s grin widened. “It suits him, don’t you think?”

“Actually, yes.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and without thinking, hugged his thick arm as they made their way back toward the palace. She hadn’t expected her morning to go this way, and for the first time since learning Thorin of Erebor was to be her husband, she wasn't really dreading the coming days.

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