#Hobbit au

[lonicera-caprifolium]

Springtime in the Shire 🌟

[jei-rifni]

draw koichi as a hobbit from lotr

I have you know I only read the books and I actually have never seen the movies! (Actually currently reading lotr rn, im on book 2!) So I only know what I imagined Hobbits as, so if its very much not similar to the movies I apologise. But I hope my interpretation of Hobbits still pleases you!

[pistachiozombie]

In hype of Zelda: Tears Of The Kingdom I wanted to show off my Zelda OCs, and different races Leanna would be... I'm aiming towards Rito~

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

My brain is FULL of TH fic ideas but I've already got 3 WIP and most of them are just "what if"s with no plot so I'll just post them here I guess and maybe some writing god hears me/ reads them and someone else actually uses them.

Here's Nr. 1:

Frerin did in fact NOT die at Azanulbizar but was transported into our modern world, sometime in the second half of the 19th century.

After some adjusting (industrialization is in full force but it's still not as 'bad' as it would be rn) he builds a life, him being a dwarf meaning that he ages extremely slowly compared to us lowly humans so he has to move after a while and again and again.

He lives in the UK, US, France, Germany, Italy, Finland.....

He fights in both world wars depending on where he lives during that time (WW1 on the German side, WW2 on the UK's), other than that he goes to university and works all kinds of jobs like policeman, fireman, soldier, teacher, carpenter,smith, weaver, factory worker, violinist etc etc etc

Around 1900 he meets this fella J R R Tolkien and befriends him, and after a time finds out that his friend is writing books about middle Earth, not only that, but one about his very own brother. Tolkien apparently is a seer of some kind because it's still almost a century until "The Hobbit" would happen (he does the math).

Frerin helps Tolkien with authenticity for his books, because the dude is smart and found out about Frerin after he corrected his Khuzdul one time too many.

Anyhow, after reading what will happen to his family, he becomes a mite bit obsessed with returning to Middle Earth and having ammased quite some wealth and with the help of some friends in high places starts founding various research projects into things like teleportation, multiverse, magic, alchemy, you name it. He also becomes a member of the Freemasons due to his occult knowledge.

In around 80 years there's almost no progress towards Frerin's goal of returning home, he does still have a research company but only a small group of mostly students works on the multiverse hypothesis, the rest does all kinds of stuff, technology, energy, whatever.

He has for the time being settled somewhere in Scandinavia, is a College Professor for Sociology and Political Science and volunteers as a social worker for troubled children.

He is fostering 2 or 3 children himself (ages 6 - 16) and has two grown up adopted children that still live & work with him (they found out about him), a guy & a lass ( both early twenties).

Somehow (don't ask I don't know) the whole household (meaning Frerin, his two young adult children, the foster children, his south American householder, her tiny dog and their personal Butler (more of a live-in family friend by now, think Niles from "The Nanny")) all get sucked into a portal or whatever end get spit out into Middle Earth.

Not at Ered Luin of course, that would be easy, no, but somewhere extremely inconvenient. The Lone lands, the Brown lands, Moria, something along the lines of "we are so fucked".

So now it is a few years (1-3, or the characters have too much time to become Mary-Sues), before the quest to Erebor, and they have to reach Thorin before then and somehow survive a world filled with orcs (and elves!) while juggling a 6 year old, a tiny & barky dog, a cliché Mamacita, a British butler, and Frerin's realisation that he has gotten much too used to modern convenience.

(my weak ass would probably include some romance between one/more than one of the original characters and the canon characters, I'm a sucker for Fili or Kili x OFC and rare pairings like KilixBifur or ThorinxNori and I want Frerin to date an elf or Bard I think.)

.... Does this sound like something you would read/write? I'd maybe try to write this with someone else, alone I don't dare to. What do y'all think?

[cutie4560]

Company of Oakensheild :

Circus AU

Thorin: Ringmaster

Bilbo: Costume Manager

Fili: Knife Throwing

Kili: Archer

Balin: Backstage Supervisor

Dwalin: Strong Man

Gloin: Ticket Salesman

Oin: Stand by Medic

Dori: Poodle Dancer

Nori: Sword Juggler

Ori: Clown in training

Bofur: Top Clown

Bifur: Retired Axe Thrower

Bombur: Circus Cook

Others

Thranduil: Tightrope Walker

Tauriel: Acrobat

Legolas: Acrobat

Bard: Head of Tent Setup

[guesst]

mixing two of my favouritest things together. like soup

[wolfsbane-and-nettles]

Kissing Bilbo Baggins was what he was always meant to do. He had been born to meet him, to be with him, to support and hold him, in any capacity. The hobbit’s lips were softer than expected, seeing as they’d been traveling through the wilderness for so long. Thorin’s must have been rough and chapped, which must have been why Bilbo pulled away, pulling a whine of displeasure from the dwarf. 

“Y-you can’t change your mind now. I don’t think I could survive you changing your mind.” Blubbered the smaller of the two as he caressed Thorin’s beard with his fingers. 

“I told you, there is nothing you can do that would make me change my mind,” Thorin murmured with desire. “Nor my heart. Nor soul. Nor body.” He kissed the hobbit between each statement, each kiss more feverish than the last. “Bilbo Baggins, I am yours…til Arda is gone, and built anew, and even past it. I will never stop loving you.” Thorin vowed, his eyes misting over slightly as had never felt so terribly complete until now. 

~The Unkindly West~

Rating: E

Words: 12,778

Chapters: 1/1 (complete)

...I'm not the best at watercolor, and it didn't show up how I wanted it to, so I did a little bit of poor photo editing to it...but I just wanted to draw the sweetness of these two... I have so many ideas for this AU, but I lack the capacity to actually do more than this one shot, as I truly just wanted to be able to write a completed fic. Chosen Horizons is still going, but I needed to complete something...

[amloveabledeathmo]

Thinking about and discussing my IDK I'm Tired idea with my spouse @howlingwolf23 we came up with a more fleshed out idea, but not really from Thranduil's point of view, kinda more an omniscient point of view.

First we will change Gimli to be 70 so about 5 years over what I think is the age of majority for dwarves and then we add him to the company. So the capture of the dwarves happens like in the movies. They get taken to the cells, for the most part the families are grouped together but Gloin was causing issues after Legolas insulted his precious son who is right over there. As punishment Gimli gets stuck in his own cell a little past Fili and Kili and most of the cells are spread apart to make communication difficult for the dwarves, they pretty much can only see maybe one other group of dwarves and would have to yell to communicate. Bilbo is of course sneaking around and bridging the gap, passing messages and assurances, helping keep morale steady.

Well Tauriel finds herself drawn to Kili and starts spending a good hour or two a day sitting beside the cell talking to him which bothers Legolas who does not want to get his bestie in trouble so instead of complaining to any other elf he finds himself at the very last occupied cell, Gimli's. Pretty soon he is also spending hours of his freetime chatting with a dwarf (and apologizing for calling him a goblin mutant).

We'll say about 2 months have passed and Legolas has fallen hard for this well spoken and spirited (and handsome) dwarf. He decides as the kings son he can do what he wants and takes Gimli out of the cell to show him different places he's described to him. Of course at first Thranduil is like wtf why are you leading a dwarf around our home. Legolas spins a story about trying to get Gimli to turn on his companions by showing him the beauty of the elves and keeping him away from the rest of the dwarves. Thranduil can see by how close the pair are standing that there is far more than that going on but decides he does not want to know. So is like okay yeah whatever but I don't want dwarves all over my house.

Eventually though the pair start holding hands and sitting nearly in eachother's laps and Bilbo is very careful to let everyone who is not Gloin know about this developement (he also tattles on Kili and Tauriel). The dwarves are of course upset but what can they do about it. Then the kinda but also not so discreet making out starts to happen. The dwarves are in an uproar about and elf taking advantage of their youngest company member and Bilbo has to confess it was in fact Gimli who yanked Legolas down into a kiss first, which brings mixed feelings, yay Gimli has found a love, good for him for pursuing it, and absolutely no it's an elf.

Gimli and Kili talk to Bilbo and decide to share the secret about him sneaking around to their elves. Bilbo tells them about his plan to get the dwarves out via to barrels but he's not sure how to distract all the guards. Legolas comes up with the idea to have a heavy make out session with Gimli in the corridor leading to the room with the barrels because he knows none of the elves want to tell his father so they all just turn around and act like they've seen nothing whenever they encounter Gimli and Legolas.

The evening of the party Legolas makes sure to very undiscreetly grab Gimli's hand and lead him away, he looks back to see his father just straight up grab the bottle of wine and start chugging and can see that the elves are side eyeing him and his father uncomfortably.

Tauriel sneaks off soon after and lifts all the cell door keys. Her and Bilbo release the prisoners quickly and cautiously head towards the barrels, Tauriel goes ahead a few paces to check that the path is clear. It's all going pretty well until Gloin manages to catch Gimli and Legolas making out. He takes a deep breath and the others have realized what's about to happen so they grab him and cover his mouth and drag him away, while muffled yelling and thrashing occurs. Gimli is alerted by the noise so the snogging stops and they both turn to look. Gimli and Legolas have a hurried discussion before following the group.

That's as far as we got. We aren't sure if we should have the elves go with their dwarves and help with Erebor and Laketown or if they should stay behind and run distractions. But thinking they go with the dwarves so that way Thranduil has a reason to show up pretty soon in time to help with the battle whereas if the elves stay behind they could make the army mobilization not happen in time. But anyway it would be a happy ending no major character death and Thorin and Bilbo, Gimli and Legolas, and Kili and Tauriel at least all courting.

[fanficwriting1]

Secrets of a Pimpernel

Chapter One: How it Begins

France - November 12, 1793

-Thorin-

Outside, a deafening cheer rose from a crowd who stood crowded around a wooden platform, the crush of bodies making it near impossible to get through the group, everyone pressed as close as they could to get a better view of the entertainment. The only thing that prevented the group from going up the platform were the two lines of guards that stood from the base of the guillotine to the entrance where the cart of aristos would clatter in, carrying those destined to meet Madame Guillotine that day. 

As the cart would rattle through, those within would be pelted with rotten food and stones. The mothers would curl over their children, covering their ears, trying to spare them the jeers and cries, while fathers would strain to protect their wives the best they could with their hands tied to the posts of the cart. 

Upon reaching the stairs, the cart would be opened and the women pulled out first, to be dragged up to the platform and forced onto their knees as the executioners lifted the lunette and laid the aristo down upon the bascule. Many of the aristos shed tears - some loud tears accompanied by prayers to God, others silent and resigned. The blade would be lifted to the crossbar, and the audience would hold their breath as it stopped momentarily at the crossbar, before it was released, severing the head from the body, which in turn would fall into the prepared basket. The head would then be lifted victoriously and the crowd would burst into cheers, cries of ‘down with the aristos’ and ‘justice for the people’ ringing through the air. 

All these calls would float through the air and the small windows of the nearby prisons, forcing the captives to listen to those who cheered and called for their deaths. Within the prison air was rancid, the smell of urine and sick mingling together with the cold that snaked in through the window. Those who were inside were consumed with anxiety and desperation, men pacing the room, women comforting their children  

One man could be separated from the others within the room. He sat against a far wall, head tilted upwards towards the light that came through a narrow window at the top of the room. His arms rested on his knees, thick and corded with muscle, but chained and connected to the wall. If he stood, he would’ve been much taller than those within the room, and none would be able to doubt he was an aristo. Tall and proud, regal and firm, his gaze would sweep through those in the room, scrutinizing the guards and those who came to drag away those destined to meet Madame Guillotine that day. But that was a week ago. Now he sat, despondent against the wall, and wished for his time to come, his time to meet Madame Guillotine and have this hell over with. 

The others within the room would look at him cautiously, remembering the day they came in and took away his sister and his two nephews. Two of the men that had come in had been killed by the man and the others were in critical condition, limbs broken, heads bashed. It took nearly ten men to wrestle him to the ground as he roared and fought to get to his feet, watching as his sister and nephews were dragged away. His brother and brother-in-law had been executed nearly three months ago, near the beginning of the Reign of Terror. 

He’d been kept chained to the wall after that incident and was subject to whatever beatings and humiliation of the guards the guards saw fit. His skin was painted in yellows, purples, and blues, face swelling and lip split. Amidst the beatings, he remained stoic, silent, and unresponsive. All life had left him the day the cheers had been screamed the day his sister and nephews were executed. 

The squeak of the door opening announced the arrival of French soldiers. The one in charge turned to the jailer. 

“You’ve been ordered to hand the commander to us.” He sneered at Thorin. “Citizen Smaug wishes to make an example of him to help squash any thought of rebelling against the Republic and to dissuade the Scarlet Pimpernel.”

“Does ‘e now?” Thorin glared as the man gave him a cruel smile, revealing his few teeth. He did not doubt that what Citizen Smaug had planned for him was unpleasant and that the man before him took pleasure in that thought. “‘Eery well.” The jailer approached Thorin, keys rattling as he undid the cuffs around his wrists, and heaved him upwards. 

He was shoved forward and he stumbled, gritting his teeth. If he had had proper sustenance he would have been easily able to overcome these men. They were not soldiers who’d seen battle, but cowardly men who could only hope to weaken their enemy with starvation.

His fingers twitched as the men took either side of him. If he was headed to his death, he might as well send a few to their maker before him. He lunged towards the group. He slammed his hands into the gut of one, and slammed his foot down into the knee of another, grimly satisfied at the shot that came. His hands met another one’s face, a gush of blood spurting as the man cursed. 

These were the men who had killed his family - the ones who had carved apart his heart and delighted in his anguish. He felt no remorse for his actions as he fought, painting his fists in blood.  But his lack of nourishment and movement had weakened him significantly, and he couldn't defend against all the guards. 

Hands shoved his face into the ground, and sharp pain exploded from his nose, tasting the tang of hot blood on his tongue. Feet met his ribs and back as the guards began stomping on him before wrestling him up. 

"It'll be a pleasure to see you dead." One of them hissed.

Strength gone, Thorin's head rolled to the side as he was dragged from the prison. He should have waited until he was out to attack - he would've had a better chance of escaping them then. But he'd chosen not to. He didn't have much to live for. 

As he prepared to be pulled out into the air and a wagon or thrown into some torture chamber, he was mildly surprised when he was dragged somewhere else and out another door, the hard grip upon his arms loosening and releasing. 

“I apologize for the injuries we inflicted." One of the guards said. "Come, we do not have much time.”

Not much time? He was going to be executed, of course he didn’t have much time left. His eyes drew downwards when he was nudged.

“Your sister and nephews are currently awaiting you in England.”

He looked at the man in alarm, what kind of trick did they hope to - A small paper, containing the emblem of a flower, rested in the guard's hand. A Scarlet Pimpernel.

His heart dropped. They were still alive? Hope stirred in his chest. “Impossible.” he croaked. “I heard nothing of their rescue.”

“Smaug seems to have a particular dislike of you, Lord Durin. I have little doubt he wished for you to suffer mental anguish, to believe your family was dead. The Scarlet Pimpernel saved them just as he is doing for you. Now, we really must hurry lest we be caught. Come quickly.”

Slightly confused, but hopeful, Thorin followed the men, ducking when they said to do so and followed them through the winding streets, and turned into an empty alley where he was met with the sight of a wagon, a box, and a driver. 

The man fit in with the poor of Paris. Grime covered his skin, his clothes were torn and worn through (better to be considered rags than clothes), smelling of the gutters - the same smell that had lingered in the room Thorin had been kept. 

A crooked nose, hunched back, and swollen cheeks, his dark, matted hair stringing in clumps down his face. Yes, the man would be right at home in the slums of Paris - his eyes were shifty, darting from side to side, and his blistered hands fiddled with each other. He stood next to the wagon, hat pulled low. 

"Ge' 'im in the cof'in." he rasped. 

The guards nodded and Thorin found himself being directed into a narrow pine box that was stained inside with what was most likely dried blood. With one last look at the men surrounding him, Thorin clambered into the pine box and watched as the lid was placed over him, enclosing him in darkness, save the faint light that seeped through the cracks where the lid met the box. Nails were hammered in, and he started slightly as the box was suddenly lifted and pushed onto a higher platform - the wagon, no doubt, and it shifted into movement, and the faint noise of crying became clear. 

The noise grew louder and louder until they emerged and the screams were deafening. 

The execution square. 

Thorin was disgusted at the cheers as they rolled into the square. But what made him sick, were the sobs. 

As the wagon slowed, Thorin heard a muttered prayer. 

"Lord, please, protect my children, let them be saved or their deaths be quick. Let them not suffer. Don't let -"

A sharp shinnk, and the prayer was cut off. 

His chest tightened. 

"You already have a coff'n!"

"Need more to mee' 'a quo'a." The driver rumbled. 

A harsh sigh. "Fine." To someone else, "Two more o'er here!" 

Sharp scrapes and something were settled to the side and on top of his box. 

Clicking at the horses, the wagon set into motion again. 

The cheers of the square quieted, and another shout came. 

"Papers! Need to see your papers and the conten's of these 'ere coffins!"

The driver groaned. "Here ya go, offic'r. Papers. But, the boxes? You don' wanna do tha' offic'r. She was real pretty, bu' af'er the Madame?" The driver chuckled. 

A harsh breath came from Thorin, and a thump came on his coffin - telling him to stay quiet. 

"I need to see 'em regardless. Open it up!"

"Ay, ay, all righ'. Open one, won' ya. Show the good offic'r 'ere our bodies."

The cracking of the top coffin was all Thorin heard before there was a thud and the officer shouted.

"She was a beau'y!" Cackled the old wagon driver. 

"Put it back! Back!"

Thudding sounded again, the securing of the top coffin's lid.

"Open the gate, send 'em through!"

The wagon lurched into movement again and he released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The wagon rumbled over the road outside the gates, Thorin sliding back and forth in the pine box with each bump and jolt. It lurched again and he bit back a curse. 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the box when the wagon slowed and came to a stop. 

There was a scrape of the top coffin being removed, and then the thud and squeaking of the nails in his coffin being removed, and he covered his eyes, wincing at the brightness of the sky.

He breathed deeply as he clambered from the coffin, relishing the clean air, the air out of the city, out of the prison, and out of the coffin. He met the driver's gaze as he rose.

“Ya’ arm.” The man said thickly, pointing to Thorin’s arm. When he hesitated, the man spoke again. “Me don’ bite. Ya hur’. Need some bandages while ‘e ‘ait.”

Thorin gave him his arm gingerly and was surprised at the strength in the man’s grip. The man made short work of the dressing, dabbing the blood away and wrapping it quickly, tight enough to hold, but not to cut off the circulation. With a tap, the man finished and pushed Thorin's arm away, tucking his tools away. 

"Do you know the Scarlet Pimpernel?" Thorin asked. 

The man eyed him.

"I wish to make his acquaintance. To help him in his efforts."

The man shook his head. "The Pimpernel doesn' see any aris'oca's."

"Aristocrats?" Thorin clarified. "The one's he saves?"

The man nodded. 

"Why not?" 

The man was silent, and Thorin found himself intrigued by the green in the old man's eyes. They seemed to shine with an energy that the man shouldn't have at his age. Unconsciously leaning closer, he startled away as a sharp whine sounded and a group of French soldiers on horseback burst through the trees. 

The soldiers surrounded them, and he raised his fists. The old man in the cart leaned back, relaxed, and Thorin realized he'd been betrayed - given a fleeting feeling of hope and freedom before he was dragged back and executed. 

"'Ay won' hur' ya." The old man called. 

He kept his fists raised but lowered them slightly as the soldiers dismounted and began undressing, revealing well-put-together men. His hands lowered to his sides. The guards and soldiers of France weren't this refined - they had blemished skin, and scars, and their way of holding themselves gave away their previous stations, such as the man on the cart. But the men who'd dismounted held themselves with elegance, of all things. 

"Thorin!" 

A heavy embrace took him off guard. "Dwalin?" 

The man drew back and smiled at him. "It's good to see you again, Commander." 

Thorin had believed that Dwalin - one of his closest comrades had perished. Dwalin wasn't an aristocrat, but his loyalty to Thorin was perceived as a threat by Smaug and was ordered to be killed. He'd been told that Dwalin had met his end at the guillotine the same day his father and brother did.  

"How?" he croaked. 

"Later." Dwalin clapped his shoulder. "We have to get you further away from here. The Pimpernel has set accommodations up for you." He gestured towards a riderless horse. "They're waiting for you, Thorin."

He needed no more direction and hastened to the horse, Dwalin close behind.  

-Bilbo-

Bilbo watched as Commander Durin was ushered onto the horse prepared. His eyes followed the man’s movements carefully. He’d rescued his sister and nephews, but at this point, he was unsure if Commander Durin still believed it to be a trick - he’d seen Nori nursing a split lip and hurt arm, Dori a black eye, and Gloin was now limping which meant that Bilbo was now down three men. He would not send out injured men, especially when their wounds could make them more recognizable. They played with fire when they entered Paris, so going in now would be akin to drenching them in oil. 

Thankfully there were still men who hadn’t been caught in the fray; Andrew was still in good condition, as was Bofur and the others. 

The number of those who knew who he was and helped him was small. It had to be. He could not risk betrayal. Their work was far too important. He knew his men well, they were brothers in arms and purpose. A loss amongst them was felt keenly, and an oath had been taken - abandonment of their purpose or each other was never considered. 

He leaned forward onto his knees as Commander Durin mounted. The Commander turned, and Bilbo was caught in the storm of his eyes. He could feel the pressure as the man’s eyes drifted over him, lingering on his face. Remaining hunched over, Bilbo looked away. It would be no good to pique the man’s interest - none who he saved would be privy to his true identity. Anonymity was a gift that shielded him and his men, and those he saved. 

He waited until his men began leading Commander Durin away before beginning to remove the putty he’d placed over his face to disfigure himself. Oin was a great help in making such things realistic, being a healer meant he had much experience with disease and could make someone appear infected. 

“Do you wish to head back into Paris?” Nori was pinching the bridge of his nose, accepting the cotton offered by Dori to shove up his nose to staunch the bleeding. 

Pulling the cotton he'd stuffed in his mouth out, he shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” Bilbo relished the air that brushed across his freed skin. “I must get back to London. The Prince of Wales is hosting an event that I’m expected to attend.” As much as he wished he could stay, it was vital for him to make appearances to continue his facade of being an ostentatious, feckless young lord. 

Such a character provided him accessibility. The French thought him to be far too vapid to be the Scarlet Pimpernel. Nobody thought much of a fool. The French expected a member of English nobility, but they expected one who carried themselves with a natural grace and charm, pleasant to be around, and engaging to speak to. Someone who was to be strong in their morals and cared for the plights of those around them. A man who was a fop? Never did they entertain such an idea. And Bilbo wished for it to remain that way. Without the scrutiny of suspicion, it was much easier to do what he needed to; so a fop, fool, brainless noble, he would remain. 

He mounted his horse, urging it forward. He had a party to attend. 

Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you thought!

[theslowestpoke]

Today is my Hobbit coming of age day (33rd birthday) so, please consider today's au:

An Unexpected Party

Stiles is the most content Hobbit in all the Shire. He has his beloved home, a belly full of savory foods and tea, a pipe full of Old Toby, and nowhere to be. Sure, some folks (not Hobbits, probably Men) might grow tired of the same thing every day, but not Stiles. No. He's a proper Hobbit, no matter what his mother might've gotten up to or the queer leanings the other Hobbits might attribute to his family line. He's perfectly happy to stay here and enjoy his garden, his books, and his endless monotonous days for the rest of his life. Why would anyone ever want to leave the Shire?

At first, the arrival of the old druid Deaton at his door is unexpected, but welcome. After all, druidfolk aren't known for their adherence to the social rules about calling ahead, but Deaton comes around so rarely that it simply wouldn't do to shame him for it. He chatters on about a lot of nonsense that Stiles responds to obliquely as he putters around trying to get the kettle on, mostly nodding and making appropriate noises to show he's sort of listening. Deaton doesn't stay long - a shame, but also a bit of a relief, if Stiles is honest with himself - and Stiles figures that's the last he'll have to worry about company for a little while, anyway.

But then the werewolves start showing up. They're gruff and loud and hairy and there are so many of them! They act as if they own the place, hanging their cloaks up at the door and tossing themselves every which way, dirty feet up on the furniture and no regard for poor Stiles trying to gather all his stores of cheese and bread and ale to feed such a large company! They introduce themselves, at least, names Stiles barely catches: the brothers, Isaac and Liam; the trio that fall through the door, Hayden, Corey, and Mason; a gruff one called Jackson, flanked by Erica, who immediately calls for ale upon seeing Isaac already inside; a few older fellows, Derek and Peter; a single polite werewolf, Boyd; Theo, who takes one look at the chaos gathered in the kitchen and slaps Stiles on the back with a laugh, no doubt registering the irritated panic he's trying very hard to suppress. Deaton showing up again should explain things, but it doesn't. Everyone seems to be waiting for one last person, although where they expect to fit another werewolf in this poor house is entirely beyond Stiles.

When Scott does arrive, at least the noise dies down enough for Stiles to hear himself speak. He tries his very best to politely demand their reason for coming and is surprised to find Scott thinks he's already agreed to whatever it is they want. What they want, it turns out, is a thief. Someone quiet and small and quick, someone who no one will notice trying to sneak in and retrieve something very important to Scott and the rest of the werewolves. Apparently their people used to rule the forests, but they were removed and now they want to take them back, even if this is all that is left of them. Stiles feels very badly for them, yes, but he's not exactly a thief and it sounds terribly inconvenient, an adventure so far away. But then, well, maybe an adventure doesn't sound so bad, really.

No one is more surprised than he is, the next day, when he finds himself running madly out the door, hardly anything on him at all and not even his favorite pipe with him, but, well, maybe an adventure is what he needs.

[belen-ouet]

[Haikyuu!!] YakuNoya: Hobbit AU

Noya as Kili and Yaku as Tauriel!! ✌🏼

I couldn’t stop thinking about how similar Kili and Noya are for a couple of weeks. So, I HAD to draw him as Kili (and turn it into YakuNoya, obviously! 🥰)!!! 😩😩😩

🚨 // Hobbit movies spoilers!! 🚨

BTW, I SWEAR THEY HAVE A HAPPY ENDING IN THIS AU!! 😭 I'M NOT THAT CRUEL!!

[freyasigtryggrsdottir]

That Summer Love chapter 1 (Thorin x reader )

Summary: The Hobbit AU Reader broke up with Richard Armitage. She is sad, but it was the best choice for them. She went to a summer trip with her bestfriend Tauriel, to forget, relax, and to heal. She doesn't want a serious relationship far away from her home, but a cool singer sweeps her off form her feets and she needs to rethink her whole life and choose, how to live and love.

Pairings: Reader x Richard Armitage, Reader x Thorin, Tauriel x Kili

___________

The train has arrived. I was so excited to be here finally, with my bestfriend, Tauriel.  Two weeks summer holiday, no university, no parents, no problems, just us, a lot of dance, swim and relaxation. Laketown was a famous destination with a big lake and friendly people. We grabbed our bags and went out tot he hot weather. I hissed, because my skin was so sensitive, and cheked the map on my phone. We will spend these few days in a hotel called „Dis’s castle’’. Its a big place with lot of rooms, but on the pictures they were cozy and friendly, not so big, and the reviews wrote just good things, especially about the owner, Dis. I was a little anxious and sad, because Richard, my ex, broke up with me a month ago. We were together for three years, but people and the plans has changed and the distance between us was unbearable anymore, so it was the best choice for the both of us to find ourselves and our happiness again.

We walked about half our, when we arrived. The hotel was blue and beautiful. I rang the bell and a white haired women showed up. She opened the door with a big smile and we stepped in.

’’Welcome here, Dears’’ said with friendly voice.

’’Thank you and nice to meet you” I smiled ’’She is Tauriel and I’m Y.N.’’

She showed our room and it was big, with two beds, blue bathrom and breathtaking scenery to the lake.

„My brother and his band will perform tonight in the garden. It will be a big party with several musicians and handsome man” Dis winked ” You can come, I will make some bread and food”

I nodded and thanked for everything, then she left us. We packed out our stuffs. I sit ont he bed, when my phone rang. It was a message from Richard. I sighed and opened. He missed me. I tought its over, but sometimes I felt he is still here with me. I tried to forget and when I tought finally I’m done with this drama, he just showed up, with a message or a brief call. I wanted to forgot him, but with his behaviour, its impossible. I took a deep breath and deleted the message. Its over, nothing will be the same, I don’t let myself to be sad. I will be happy on this trip and probably I will go into a short summer romance, nothing serious, just a fling, just for a few days, then I will go back into my normal life, where the university and my workplace are everything.

’’Just block his number” Tauriel sit next to me and hugged me.

’’What?”

’’This is your its-Richard-again face. We are here, he is far way from us and he is basically a stranger to us, so we will go tot hat party, we will dance and laugh a lot’’

I smiled and nodded. I clicked the blocking button. From now on, Richard is nothing to me and I’m free.

At eight o’clock we went to the garden. I wore a long A-line purple dress with fake white flowers and side sliths, Tauriel wore a green mini dress with crystals. A lot of people were here. Dis waved to us and walked to her.

’’I’m so happy you two are here. There are a bunch of people tonight’’ and with that, she gave us a glass of wine, the went up to the podium ’’Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome here. Our first performers is Durin’s sons’’

The people loudly clapped their hands and three people went up. One of them has long, black hair, he stood behind the microphone. He has the biggest charisma, with pierce eyes. The second was similar tot he first, but his smile was cheeky and playful, and he played on the guitar. The last one was like a blonde lion, and he was the drummer. They began to play and I lost. The singer’s voice were good, deep, with meaningful lyrics. I watched him and the world stopped for me.

Tauriel gently nudged me.

’’Somebody finally forgot that man” he said proudly and I nodded.

He was not my type, because he seemed like a bad guy, but his voice the the lyrics. My heart beat faster and I felt I live again.

[pistachiozombie]

[Modern 90s Hobbit AU] One of my favorite dynamics - bantering best friends (dwarf and elf) that beat the shit out of each other but also share snacks when stoned ~ Featuring Sven and Bofur

[haamuart]

The Hobbit HP AU from 2019.

If you want to know about this AU, check under the cut.

In this AU, Belladonna Baggings was a quite wild girl like in canon (?). She became a Potions Mistress after Hogwarts, but she wanted to do something more important in life. Not that brewing potions isn't important, but... She just wanted to do something more. So she ended up joining the Death Eaters and fed information to convenient people on the other side. Her reputation never quite recovered, even though it became general knowledge that she was a spy. Bungo loved her anyway.

Bilbo had a moment of wildness in his youth and gained a mastery in Dueling at the same time as he studied History. However, the pressure put on him by his extended family grew too great, and while he loves his mother, he decided to try and live as quietly as possible to get people leave him alone. It never quite works. Bilbo is quietly suffocating, even if he doesn't admit it.

(Bilbo might or might not be participating in dueling competitions under a pseudonym, but shh that's a secret.)

Frodo is a student in Ravenclaw.

I don't know how the story continued from here 😂 I think I may just have wanted to imagine Bilbo as a grouchy wizard

[cutie4560]

Oppps, it looks like Shail got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Well, more like honey bun sack,good first impression.

Au Shail is a fullmetal alchemist, ready to help with any repairs

A proud mama badger with her twin cubs Opaline and Onxy.

All this amazing art was commissioned by @pistachiozombie go show her alot of love

[toxicrayofsunshine]

New Story!

She was just trying to have a real life. A life where there were no summons, no war, no death… just… peace. A life she'd found in a tiny town under the shadow of a great mountain, with a man and 3 children that she loved enough to give up her immortality for. A life that is threatened when a summons comes from someone she cannot refuse and throws her into the middle of a story she never wanted to be a part of.

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This is a Hobbit AU Fanfic and I am posting it here on A03 and here on Wattpad. The only reason I don't post on Tumblr is because I'm still not entirely sure how to make a Masterlist. This is my third BIG multific I've posted and I'm so proud of it, I hope you like it.

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**My name on both those sights is different to this one so please don't think you're on the wrong page. My name on here used to be TatteredSoul_88 but I changed it for personal reasons.**