#aragorn is the softest guy

[inkydeeeeeeew]

So like, I'm reading Return of the King and Faramir is kind of a total chad. But like, just in a straight talking, no bullshitting kind of way. He's like, Eowyn, not only are you hot, you're awesome, and we should go out, but even if we don't, we should definitely hang out. In this garden of the Houses of Healing. And she's like, Aragorn will never love me and I missed my chance to die in battle, so I guess we can hang out. So they hang out and they both get better, but then he leaves to do his job as Steward of Gondor and she starts getting sick again and Eomer calls Eowyn back to Rohan to prepare for Aragorn's coronation, but she declines. Faramir finds out she's getting sick again, so he goes to see her and he's like, there are only 2 reasons why you're still around and she's like, I do not have the fucking TIME for riddles. Speak plainly. And he's like, either you're staying here because you're avoiding Aragorn's coronation OR you're staying here because...I am here. And I hope it's the second reason. And she's like, uh... I don't have time for Aragorn's pity and I've lost all chance of valor because the war is over. And Faramir is like, uh... actually you killed a ring wraith, so like, you've already won valor? And she's like, oh and I guess you want to tell everyone you tamed a shield maiden of Rohan because you couldn't find a nice Dunedain girlie, and he's like, actually I would literally LOVE to tell people that. Also, Aragorn is the softest guy, so don't look down on his pity because he's got a really big heart and he simply can't help it. And she's like...fine. Deal. And he's like, YOU HEAR THAT, BOYS?! EOWYN'S MOVING OUT OF THE HOUSES OF HEALING CUZ I GOT HER ALL FIXED UP NOW.

1. I like, I HIGHLY identify with Faramir being this matter of fact with a romantic partner.

2. ARAGORN REALLY IS THE SOFTEST GUY. AND NO ONE JUST STRAIGHT UP POINTS THIS OUT BEFORE FARAMIR DOES. BUT IT'S SO TRUE.

[live-laugh-legolas]

Love languages of the Fellowship

Aragorn: Words of affirmation

-This man speaks poetry

-Will tell you how beautiful you are by comparing you to a sunrise or some shit

-Holds you close while speaking to you, so only you can hear him

-Limited PDA so when you are alone his affections feel extra intimate

-Will always let you know how appreciative he is of you

-So gentle with you and the best listener

-Understands that sometimes you just need him to listen and don’t want him to fix anything; but will help immediately you if you do

-I don’t know if this makes sense but he loves you by making sure you love yourself

-Keeps his verbal compliments private and shows how great you are in public; compliments can feel subjective and he makes sure people come to the objective conclusion that you are so great (I have no idea how to properly explain this)

-Loves a good hug and to bury his face in your hair

Legolas: Quality time

-Any time spent with you is great but I think he would show his partner the world *cough Gimli*

-Will take you on an adventure so he can see the excitement and wonder in your eyes

-If you ever mention wanting to see someplace he’s already getting the bags ready

-Even in the most beautiful places he will be looking at you cliche

-I think intimacy is something that he doesn’t quite understand

-Not in a negative way, but in the sense that he loves so much that he doesn’t really know how to express it

-Will just stare at you, it’s almost creepy, but you are just so pretty

-Is very playful with those he is close to

-If he teases you it’s likely because he likes you and feels he can let formalities drop

Gimli: Gift giving

-This man would gift you the world

-Treats you like the king/queen that you are

-Always wants you to have something of his or from him with you at all times, and vise versa

-I think he would carry your picture with him like his father did

-Always trying to impress you and show off

-His love is rooted in a deep respect and admiration

-Will never be overbearing; if you want to do something he will support where he is needed but won’t take over

-“That’s my wife/husband/partner!”

-Your #1 supporter and the president of your fanclub

Boromir: Quality time

-I firmly believe this man to be a picnic type of guy

-Will get the softest blanket and all your favorite foods and will bring you to a spot he scoped out weeks prior because it had to be perfect

-Will feed you grapes; probably turns into a game of trying to catch them in the air

-He will do anything to make you laugh; whether it be play fighting or a dramatic reenactment of a story, as long as it makes you smile he has no shame

-Wants you to be prepared for anything so he will teach you everything he knows; like how he taught the hobbits to use swords

-Will show you off and brag about how amazing you are and lucky he is

Frodo: Gift giving

-Doesn’t do grand gifts like Gimli would; but the small things that make him think of you

-He will pick up something and just hand it to you; a pretty flower, a cool rock, etc

-Will bring home leftovers if there is something you will like; I’m talking food in a napkin in his pocket and totally crumbled when he gives it to you

-It’s the thought that counts

-Will cuddle up with you and silently read a book together, only turning the page when you’re ready

-Loves to listen to you rant over your interests and hyper-fixations

-He may not know wtf you are talking about but he will actively listen with a big smile nonetheless

Sam: Acts of service

-I mean this one is pretty obvious

-This man will move a mountain for you

-Anything he can do to make your life easier consider it done

-I feel you would probably have to stop him from doing too much otherwise you would be left with nothing to do

-If you are craving something, no matter how obscure, he will get it or make for you

-Supports all your interests and hobbies; he reminds me a bit of my dad who will do extensive research if you mention you are interested in something so he can talk to you about it

-Can be a little overprotective at times but only because he loves you so much

-If anyone dares to say anything that is even a little rude about you he’s coming to your defense with a puffed up chest

Merry: Words of affirmation

-Unlike Aragorn he doesn’t speak like he thinks he’s Shakespeare or something

-More like compliments that don’t even seem thought out

-Just speaks his mind; Will blurt out randomly that you are so beautiful when you are doing the most mundane tasks

-They will all be there for you at your lowest, but this hobbit senses it before it even happens

-It’s like a sixth sense; the ‘oh no y/n is upset’ sense

-Will always keep his eye on you to make sure no one is bothering you

-Definitely does the tough guy thing until he gets a splinter, then it’s all over (do you know the reference?)

-Gives nicknames, sometimes odd ones

Pippin: Physical touch

-This sweet little fool is a cuddle bug

-Although the touch can also be excitedly jumping on you

-Probably accidentally elbows you or something because he is always standing so close

-Will grab your hand and exaggeratedly swings your arms

-When he is around you his mood just soars

-He’s like those dogs that never stop wagging their tail and it turns into a weapon of mass destruction

-Includes you in everything. It’s second nature to him that you must be invited

-Often he doesn’t even ask, just pulls you along and will explain on the way

This is the first time I’ve written anything like this so feedback is welcome. I didn’t include Gandalf because in my eyes he is a grandfather lol

[frodosrings]

In Times of Great Snow, a Child Still Grows

hi guys, i wrote my first fic!

here is the link to ao3

Summary: When Faramir is away on a work-related mission, Éowyn has no one else to share the news of her pregnancy with, aside from her reclusive brother-in-law, Boromir.

Aka, a heartfelt conversation between a brother and sister-in-law who have hardly ever spoke before. Slight Boromir girl-dad mention. Boromir lives au! me writing for platonic rare pairs!

(this is not a ship fic)

Rated: G

Words: 4.2k

read below :)

Typically, winters in Gondor were mild. At times fog would seep through cracks in the walls or press its cheeks against windows, but snow seldom fell, at least in Minas Tirith. This winter was different. Deep snow sought shelter in the streets and flooded stone rooftops of city buildings. There was so much of it that the city had practically shut down, as it was unknown to the people how to deal with such a situation. Every chimney coughed smoke plumes into the sky until the homes were sweltering. Doors and windows remained locked and shut tight to prevent even a faint whisper of cold air from turning cheeks pink. No one entered or exited the great gate of the walled city, as no guards wished to risk frostbite in order to keep watch outdoors.

            Only two weeks before the white blanket of winter disrupted the city, Faramir and a group of soldiers were sent to the eastern border, as talks of enemy scouts lurking near Mordor spread to the ears of Aragorn. Unfortunately, the group of men were unable to make it back to the white city when they had planned due to the unforgiving weather. What made it worse was the fact that the winter storm was so harsh, a messenger could not travel with letters even if one wanted to, so no one in Minas Tirith knew when the group of soldiers would return.

            Boromir missed his brother, sure, but duty called even in days of loneliness and snow. Besides, they had spent much longer apart before. He kept busy as usual, though he had more recently taken a step back from most of the physical work he used to crave. Most of his duties now took place in the ways of talking politics and writing logs on flimsy parchment for the archives. He enjoyed this work. The stress from his days in the fellowship carried on through the years and led to him slowly receding from his workload. It was better this way, or at least, that’s what he would tell himself. He could never deny that there were times he craved the adrenaline of striking down an enemy with a thick steel blade or riding a steed through the canyons of uninhabited earth, but the pain from his almost final days spread through his veins like poison ivy pinpricks and created somewhat of a recluse out of the once indomitable warrior.

            He was shut in his chambers with a quill in hand and half-complete writeup about the record breaking winter when the softest of knocks announced their presence on his door. He almost thought he had imagined it, as it was far too late in the night for any casual visitors. Perhaps Aragorn had come up to try and convince him to rest, as there were times when his concern for Boromir’s wellbeing could not be contained between quiet conversations with Arwen.

            “One moment, I am finishing up with some ink.” Boromir called out after a second knock came, a little louder than the first. He was not even able to place his quill back in the ink pot or turn around in his chair before the door had opened. Strange. It was hardly customary for anyone to open the doors of another’s chambers after being told to hold on for a minute. Not even Aragorn would intrude without permission.

            “Well, by the gods, would you give me a moment—” He began as he turned around to gather a glimpse of his intruder, only to hold his remaining words back on a leash when he noticed his brother’s wife shutting the door behind her. Not even the faint flicker of too few candles could hide the wetness of her eyes, nor the disquiet expression which accompanied them.

            Boromir had all the time in the world to get to know Éowyn, for she had been married to his brother for three years at this point in time, but the two of them remained quite distanced from one another. Boromir had always blamed it on the near twenty year age difference between them; how could he have anything to speak about with such a young woman? What do they have in common, other than Faramir? Though these excuses satisfied Boromir in moments when he would think of her, he still could not ebb away the guilt which gnawed through his bones. He was cold and callous at times, and he knew it was his stubborn pride and recent reclusiveness which stood in the way of giving her the time of day. It was not that he disliked her, not at all. Anyone who made Faramir as happy as he had been in recent years was someone who was automatically respected by Boromir. He simply had never honestly thought of going out of his way to speak to her without the presence of Faramir.

            Boromir stared at her awkwardly for a few moments, his eyes not hiding the surprise he was feeling inside. Éowyn, too, was slightly apprehensive, and the silent showdown continued for what felt like hours.

            “Come, sit.” Boromir ended the silence with a gentleness that surprised even himself. He had stood up from his chair and allowed her to take his place in it. As she sat and wiped away some of the tear trails from her cheeks, Boromir stood a few feet away and wished he had something to occupy the gawky stillness of his hands. He eventually crossed his arms over his chest. “What upsets you?”

            “I apologize for my intrusion, I see you are busy, but there is something which eats away at my mind the longer I keep it to myself, and if not you then I do not know who else I would tell in Faramir’s absence.” She spoke calmly, despite her clear solemnity.

            “You needn’t, I would much rather you intrude than keep whatever it is which pains you to yourself.”

            The exchange was cautious, each of them very aware of the fact that they had hardly ever spoke one-on-one. Though, Boromir knew something perhaps quite serious was at hand if she had come to him so late at night. He tried his best to rid himself of his typical sternness. If he was honest, he was a bit afraid of what she had to say, it made him anxious in a way he hardly ever was.

            Éowyn looked up at him for a moment, and then wiped another tear which had fallen down her pale face. “I am pregnant, I have only just found out this morning, I do not know what to do—”

            If Boromir’s eyes were surprised before, he did not even want to know what they looked like now. He couldn’t help but interrupt. “You are pregnant? You are with child?”

            A faint nod of her head confirmed the truth of her statement, though a stifled breath confirmed the hidden thoughts which troubled her mind.

            “You are upset? Do you not wish to have a child?” Boromir tried to guess the reason for her lack of enthusiasm. He was still shocked by the news, and he did not know what to say which would comfort her. It frustrated him.

            “No, no, I do wish for a child, I am happy, truly,” she wiped her cheeks once more and sought out his eyes again, “I am merely frightened. The thought of being a mother— of Faramir being a father, it is what I have dreamt of since our marriage. I have only forgotten that in order for such dreams to occur I must actually carry out a pregnancy, and Faramir is not here, I haven’t the knowledge of when he will return, I miss him, I wish to tell him now, I want him to be here now. I also fear it, his reaction. I know he shall be happy, but I have horrid thoughts that perhaps he shall not be. It is the wrong time; he is so busy. And what if something happens, to the baby, what if I am not ready? I hardly know if I shall even make a good mother. Please, you mustn’t tell Faramir—”

            Without a second to think twice, Boromir had lowered himself to his knees in front of the chair that Éowyn was sitting in, and took her hands in his own. He had no idea where this was all coming from; he hadn’t the slightest clue how to comfort an upset individual, especially an individual he knew hardly at all, but it seemed to come naturally. This was the woman his brother loved so dearly, so he knew he would do anything he could to expel her worries. His words flowed quicker than he could think of them.

            “I shall not tell him, you needn’t worry,” he spoke, his voice reassuring and calm, “you are afraid to carry the pregnancy? You fear the possible complications, or the reaction of others?”

            “All of it.” She whispered tearily in response.

            “The potential negative reaction of others should not dictate your happiness. I do not have a single individual in mind who would be anything less than thrilled for you. Faramir— gods, Faramir will be so very pleased, Éowyn. He has dreamt of fatherhood since we were children, and he has never been more certain of any of his desires, aside from his desire for you. You needn’t be afraid that he shall respond indifferently.”

            “What if something goes wrong? I hate to be so negative, to allow these horrid thoughts to consume me, but I haven’t any other way of dealing with it. I am so afraid I shall fail.”

            “Fail? And how would you fail? If anything happens during this time, to the baby, you will not be at fault. You mustn’t think like this, dear girl. The snow is heavy, it is a burden at this time, but Faramir shall return the moment the sun carries it all away. What in your mind tells you that you are not ready?”

            Éowyn composes herself slightly. She slips a hand away from Boromir’s comforting grasp to wipe a final tear from her cheek before slipping it back to his hold. “I do not know. I cannot translate my thoughts into words, perhaps it is a doubt all women feel. I fear it is the wrong time. Faramir is whisked away so very often, I feel as though he would prefer for his work to die down before we have a child.”

            “Forgive me, for perhaps I will misspeak, but is the time ever right for a child? If the time truly was so wrong, I do not believe you would be pregnant at all. I do not think there is ever a right, nor ever a wrong time to have a child.”

            “Is it truly such a good thing?”

            Boromir was surprised at the question. He squeezed her hands just slightly, and neither were certain if it was out of comfort or because the chilling breeze of a winters night had found its way into the room. “Are you happy, Éowyn? Truly, do you feel glad about this?” He asked with such vulnerable gentleness that it struck down all her built-up indifference towards his usual harsh exterior.

            “Yes, I am happy. I have wished for this day to come for longer than I remember.”

            “Then let us be happy, dear girl. I am so pleased— so very pleased for you. Your child is perhaps the most fortunate of all children in Middle-Earth. What wonderful parents you and Faramir shall be. A summer baby, it is just what we need in this city, a beautiful summer baby. Do not doubt your ability to be a good mother, I cannot name one woman I know who would make a more loving mother than the woman who sits in front of me now. Please do not worry. Faramir shall arrive as soon as the snow gives us peace, and Aragorn will ease him of his duties once he is aware of the news. I will make sure of it.”

            Éowyn smiled gratefully. She did not know what had caused Boromir to become so gentle and ruminative, but it was a side of her husband’s brother she did not know even existed. There were many times she wished to be closer with the man, for Faramir’s sake, but he was so closed off that it was near impossible. Even she had noticed in recent years how much Boromir shut himself away in his quarters. He only spoke to Aragorn and Faramir and perhaps a few noble officials he needed to discuss work-related things with, but sometimes even Faramir would go a day or two without even a glimpse of his older brother.

            She knew she was somewhat of an outsider to his struggles. Sure, she knew every member of the fellowship Boromir was once a part of, and she knew her fair share of stories from their journey, but she did not travel with them from the beginning. Boromir had never come to Edoras back when Sauron was festering the mind of Frodo. He was thought dead, even by Aragorn himself, and he surprised the entire city when he showed up at the gates one morning after the ring was destroyed. Éowyn could still remember the brief glimpse she got of Boromir when he was carried in a rush through the doors of the citadel towards the house of healing. She could still remember the disbelief of Faramir, who had thought that his brother had died, who had seen Boromir near death with his own eyes, who had rushed by her to get to Boromir’s bedside as quickly as his feet could take him. Oh, the grief her husband had gone through after Boromir’s return. Éowyn would spend countless nights awake with Faramir and listen to him blame himself for all of it. Countless times Faramir would choke up over the fact that he did not take Boromir out of the small boat when it drifted by him, how he did not even check for his heartbeat, how he could not even look at him a second time.

            The guilt of Faramir grew larger once Boromir began to seclude himself. Éowyn heard it all; she had comforted her husband when he mourned the liveliness Boromir once exhibited. His trauma from the days of the fellowship had consumed him even more than the ring once did, yet he did not share these thoughts with anyone. Instead, he kept to himself. This was the only way Éowyn knew Boromir, so at times it was difficult to imagine that he was once any different. Boromir, the brooding hermit of a man was once a proud and esteemed warrior? She could only pretend to empathize with Faramir when he grieved a man she could not believe existed.

            When she found out about her pregnancy, Éowyn had immediately felt isolation. Her husband was gone and was forced to stay away due to the drastic severity of the weather. All she wanted to do was to go to him and share the news, but she couldn’t. At first, she thought about going to Arwen. Who better to tell about a pregnancy than another woman? And not just another woman, but a mother? The more certainty she felt about telling Arwen the news, the more she began to simultaneously doubt it. Éowyn wanted her husband, the only person in the world whose reaction to her pregnancy she cared about. Without his presence, who could she go to that knew Faramir just as much, if not more than herself? Of course his own brother. Perhaps it was a bit of a whirlwind of emotions and desperation which led her to his chambers in the pit of a late night, but Boromir felt like the only person she could tell. It was true that the two of them only exchanged words when Faramir was around, and even those words were brief, but she could not imagine anyone else hearing the news in place of Faramir. Besides, this was her brother in law, family through marriage, he would be the uncle of her child.

            “Your words are appreciated, more than I can say. I am sorry again to intrude; I could not keep it to myself. I felt such a strong pull which led me here this night.” Éowyn spoke softly with a warm smile. Only their voices broke the silence of the candlelit room; not even the strong winter breeze outside interrupted their murmurs.

            “You needn’t apologize, not anymore, you did not need to even the first time you did. You are forgiven, if the words soothe you, but I am not angry. How could I be? This is such a joy, dear sister. I shall not be able to rest this night, for my excitement is too great.” Boromir smiled genuinely and largely. He moved a hand from her own and hovered it over her stomach, before looking up at her, as if for permission. The hesitancy in his motions was endearing, she thought.

            With the nod of her head, Boromir carefully placed his hand on her stomach. He was not sure what he was expecting, of course the baby was not grown enough to kick or prove its presence, but even with the whisper of his hand against the fabric of her gown, Boromir knew it was true. He couldn’t help but laugh softly.

            “You laugh?” Éowyn said, amused.

            “Aye, I laugh, though not with mockery. Éowyn, I truly am so pleased for you. I can hardly believe it. I have imagined the day Faramir would father my niece or nephew since we were children. And you— he loves you so greatly that I cannot even compare it to anything else, for it would outweigh it so disproportionately.” Boromir placed his other hand on her stomach as if in place of the hand which could not be there, Faramirs. He hoped that somehow and some way, his brother could feel it in his palm. “When will you tell your brother?”

            “I do not know, I have not thought of it just yet. Not until Faramir knows. I do not want anyone else aside from you to know of this until Faramir is back home. I am unsure whether I will send a letter to Éomer and Lothíriel, or if I shall convince Faramir to come with me to see them personally and share the news.” Éowyn answered, her hand resting atop one of Boromir’s own on her stomach.

            “They will be so happy for you. A summer baby, I cannot believe it.”

            “Yes, I myself can hardly believe it.”

            “A niece or nephew shall I have, dear sister?” Boromir teased gingerly.

            “I do not know, I cannot say I would prefer one over the other. What would you choose, if you were able?” Éowyn responded with equal lightness. She no longer felt awkward around him, nor he around her, and her sadness dissipated completely.

            “If I am honest, I have always wished for a daughter. So forgive me, for I fear I would favour the idea of a niece.” Boromir hesitantly explained, a gentle smile still on his lips as he looked back up at her. His hands still held her stomach like they were carrying the most precious thing. In a way, they were, for the child was not even near ready for birth and yet Boromir already adored it.

            “A daughter? Is that so? I did not know you harboured such a desire.” Éowyn spoke with a curious intrigue. She had never pictured Boromir as a father, but she had also never really pictured him as anything at all, as dreadful as that truth was. She had no way of imagining him as anything other than an isolated man.

            “Aye. I have imagined it since I was a young boy, I always pictured walking the white streets with a little girl of my own upon my shoulders like a young rider on a pony. I had imagined names, I dreamt of her face, I suppose I wished for a daughter even more than I wished for a wife.”

            “Yet you have not had one? You would be such a wonderful father. Will you ever, do you imagine?” Éowyn asked. It was in no way judgemental or laced with mockery, she truly just wanted to know. It was so interesting seeing Boromir like this, so human.

            “I fear those days are long behind me now. I am old, a man in his mid forties does not get married or have children. A man my age is supposed to have those things already, so I suppose it was not meant for me.” He didn’t know why he was being so vulnerable with her, maybe it was because she was vulnerable first, or perhaps it was because although unbeknownst to him in the current moment, he really did trust her.

            “There is no right or wrong time to have a child. Was it not you who spoke those words to me only minutes ago?” She smiled, rubbing his knuckles in the same way Faramir would rub hers when she was deep in thought.

            Boromir chuckled and shook his head. “I see Faramir has taught you to rebuttal with my own past words.”

            “Faramir has taught me a good deal of things, yes.”

            “As you have taught him also.”

            “And what have I taught my ever knowing husband?” Éowyn chuckled back. Her face was now completely free from the tears that had earlier interrupted its smoothness, and her usual resting smile reclaimed its place.

            “Strength, wisdom, pride, dear sister what haven’t you taught him? I have not ever seen my young brother so resilient and fearless since you have blessed this kingdom with your union. He did not ever know our mother, and our father failed to take her place in our childhood. He has needed a beautiful, brilliant woman like you in his life since he was a boy.”

            Éowyn could only smile at this, for she feared words may fail to express the gratitude she felt for his words. A soft yawn made its way through her lips and reminded the two how late it was.

            “You should be resting; it is not right to remain awake so late in the night.” Boromir spoke again.

            “You also remain awake. If I am to rest, I must also know that you shall too.”

            Boromir huffed out a breath and smiled largely at her subtle stubbornness. She was strong willed, that was certain. He stood up from his kneeling position on the ground with a grunt. Éowyn arose from the chair, though much more gracefully.

            “I will rest. I am happy for you, dear girl, I cannot express it enough. Faramir will be so very pleased.”

            “Thank you, Boromir. I do hope we shall all be seeing more of you soon. Your presence is greatly missed in the citadel, especially by Faramir.” Éowyn spoke tentatively. She did not know if this was pushing her luck too far. She already had somehow gotten him to open up just a little bit for the first time, and she immediately felt selfish for pressing on a matter that was obviously distressing for him. She nearly backtracked on her words, but his calm voice extinguished the flames of her momentary regret.

            “For you, for Faramir, for your sweet child, I shall be ever present. I would not miss a moment of their life for the world. It is a promise, my sister,” He placed a soft kiss to the top of her head, “now off to your chambers, Faramir would never forgive me if he knew I allowed you to stay awake this late in the evening. This news shall stay between us until you say otherwise, I mean my words. You are a perfect mother, so there shall be no more doubts lingering in your mind. Goodnight, Éowyn.”

            With the return of a “goodnight” from her, she had exited Boromir’s chambers and left him on his lonesome once again.

            He shed his daywear and changed into comfortable nightclothes before moving to his bed. The room was frigid, as he did not have the fireplace lit, and the only warmth which encompassed the space was from the weak flicker of a few candles he had lit on his worktable. Despite the cold, Boromir did not move from where he was laying. His mind flurried with thoughts like the snow in the night sky. He would be an uncle; his brother would be a father. There was a small part of him which was envious, and he hated it, but he couldn’t help it. For so many years he dreamt of being a father, yet he feared now it was too late. He knew, however, that this child of Éowyn and Faramir would be loved as if it were his own. Enough time had been spent locked away in his chambers as a way of coping with the trauma of his past, a new time was now beckoning him to rejoin the world.

(thank you slime for beta reading!)

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Greetings, dear readers. Here you shall find my writing masterlist. I regularly take requests, and can write for The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, and The Witcher. I dally in gender-specific, gender-diverse, and gender-neutral reader inserts, and am happy to cater. Read on and let your mind drift away into a world of submersible imagination…

She’s the Man (Fellowship X Disguised as Boy! Reader!)

The Road Less Traveled (Fellowship x Pregnant! Reader)

The Road Less Traveled (Part 2) (Legolas x Mother! Reader)

“Thanks, I Owe You Guys One.” (Fellowship x Reader)

Speak My Language (Fellowship x Hurt! Reader)

Leap of Faith (Fellowship x Reader)

Wrong End of the Ithillien Stick (Legolas x Reader)

Not a Hero (Fellowship x Soldier! Reader)

Elf Got Your Tongue? (Legolas x Reader)

The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)

And Then There Were Two (Legolas x Reader) (One Bed Trope)

The Softest Shout (Fili x Reader)

Silver is the New Sexy (Kili x Reader)

Imagine the Fellowship comforting you as you reveal your aro/ace identity to them

Imagine accidentally marrying Legolas whilst drunk in Edoras

Imagine Legolas only yelling at you in Sindarin when angry

Imagine spending your Sweet 16 with the Fellowship

Imagine Mairon and Melkor dangling you over lava to extract information from you

Imagine helping Legolas deal with a sprained ankle

Imagine waiting at the battle of Helms Deep

Imagine Thranduil helping you deal with your skin insecurities

Imagine you, a bard, writing the song ‘Soldier, Poet, King’ about Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas

Imagine Gandalf taking the Fellowship to you after they’ve all been turned into animals

Imagine you, a journalist, forcing your way into the Fellowship of the Ring

Imagine having a spa day with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli

Imagine Legolas becoming a “bridezilla” at your wedding

Imagine Aragorn and Legolas helping hide your mermaid identity from the rest of the Fellowship

Imagine having a playful songwriter rivalry with Maglor

Teaching the Fellowship to drive a car would include: (Fellowship x Reader)

Imagine having Maglor as your neighbour in the 21st century

[meteor752]

Lotr Sexualities

Modern sexualities with Fantasy characters lets go

Aragorn: Pansexual. Like, if the person can pin him down in a fight, then he’s just smitten. While his heart belongs to Legolas, he did feel certain things around both Boromir and Éowyn though.

Legolas: The gayest gay to ever gay. Like, he’s that one gay friend. Y’all know what I’m talking about.

Gimli: Gimli is kinda lost on me tbh, like I don’t get a clear vibe from him, so I’m just gonna say that he doesn’t like labels, and he just does whatever the f he wants. Which is kinda on brand for him, like screw your rules.

Boromir. Bisexual. The same as with Aragorn, if they can beat him in a fight then damn this boy has fallen for them. Makes a thousand Bi puns, including the obvious one with his own name, Biromir.

Frodo: Gay. Not as gay as Legolas, but still very gay. Is more of a stressed anxious gay, that just has a problem functioning sometimes. Sometimes just cries by how pretty some guys are.

Sam: Bisexual. The softes bisexual. Everyone is so pretty and he can’t handle it. Though Frodo is the prettiest, definitely.

Merry: Bisexual. Transgender. I realize I’m making a lot of them Bi, but like...they are all soft bisexuals. Idk how being trans works in this world, but who cares. He’s an oblivious Bisexual who has no idea that his best friend has been crushing on him for years.

Pippin: Pansexual. Crushes on EVERYONE. The most obvious is Merry, of course, but he could also be found checking out Boromir, Legolas, Éowyn, and ever Frodo or Sam sometimes. Is really just a thirsty hoe.

Faramir: Biromantic Demisexual. He thought he was entirely repelled by sex until he fell in love for the first time, which was a strange discovery. He’s still new to all of this...couple stuff, but Éomer is a huge support.

Éowyn: Bisexual. Another Bisexual, and another one who’s just attracted to people that can fight her. Well, that was until she met Arwen, who yes can fight, but is also the softest and purest being in Middle Earth, who made her just melt.

Éomer: Gay. May not seem like it as he flirts with a lot of females, but he’s very gay. Not very open about it though, but yeah. Totally in love with his kinda awkward boyfriend Faramir, who he respects a lot.

Arwen: Lesbian. Lipstick lesbian to be exact. She’s just charming ladies wherever she goes, with the softest smile and the most graceful behavior. Éowyn is so in love with her that it’s insane.

Sigrid: Biromantic Demisexual. You have to earn this queen. She mostly crush on elves, despite her dwarf love. Tauriel, Arwen, and Lindir have all been in her radar.

Bain: Polyamorous Pansexual. Very in love with his partners Kamarind and Vivian. Hasn’t had too many crushes on anyone else, and he doesn’t really find anyone attractive considering he’s blind.

Tilda: Whatever she likes. She’s very inconsistent. One day it’s only dwarf males, other days it’s only females in general, some days it’s everything and some days it’s nothing. Sort of like Abrosexual, but not really as it’s a lot more fluid.

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Dimension Jumping pt. 1

The Fellowship of the Ring x Reader

But a lot of the stories are about the reader falling into Middle Earth…. what about the other way around? If you wanted to do all the characters, you could do a point after they left Rivendell, before they split up?

Like for example, after Gandalf ‘dies’, and it could be something sweet and cute or whatnot where the reader helps them grieve a bit, give them a bit of a rest before continuing on their journey?

—

Weekends have always been your favorite time of the week. 

No responsibilities, sleeping in, more time, freedom, the list goes on and on. 

Your weekends are usually spent idly doing things you enjoy, like sleeping, and lot’s of stress free activities. 

Not this weekend though, for when you got home after a grocery run, you were met with quite the surprise. 

A total of 8… people? lay strewn about in your living room seemingly unconscious. They are dressed in odd clothes, holding medieval looking weapons, and they look rather raggedy and dirty. Four of them are extremely small, and if it weren’t for their older looking faces, you would’ve thought them to be children. There’s also a handsome blond with pointy ears, a short red headed, bearded… man, and two semi-regular looking tall dudes.

Your groceries fall from your arms and land on your carpeted floor, but you barely pay that any mind since you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the pile of people in the middle of your damn living room.

Your floofy white dog Penny is sniffing around them, but she doesn’t seem to be alarmed nor agitated by their presence, so that’s good at least. She’s an excellent judge of character after all. Eventually she settles down next to the tall guy with dark brown hair, and though you don’t like that she’s next to these strangers, you allow it.

The sound of your things falling to the ground seems to rouse them, and you watch as the man wearing dark clothing with dark hair opens his eyes and groans quietly. At first his eyes scan around the room, then they fall upon you. 

He sits up slowly, still eyeing you as he glances down at his small child-looking friends. A look of relief passes his expression before he looks at you once more, saying nothing while the rest of his merry band of crazies begin to sit up.

This is supposed to be your fucking day off, and this shit happens? A bunch of renaissance weirdos laying in your house, making your clean carpet dirty. 

“You know what, no.” You state loudly, successfully startling the dark haired man, “This is my weekend off, and I am not dealing with this. Whatever this is." 

You turn on your heel and begin picking up your groceries, though you remain vigilant incase one of them intends to try something. 

Once you’ve gathered all your discarded things you stand again and look behind you, seeing that most of them are on their feet and looking at you and your home as if you’re some alien in a structure unknown to them. You quickly look forward again and go to your kitchen, placing everything on your counters while you try to decide how the hell you’re going to deal with this. 

You look over your counter at the still staring people and ask slowly, "Does… anyone want a snack?”

Two of the small blonde men perk up when you say ‘snack’, so you take that as a yes and begin preparing apples, celery, and peanut butter for everyone to eat. 

By the time you’re done cutting up the apples you’ve only got two left, but you just sigh and bring out a tray with the snack and place it on the coffee table. 

The two blond… boys? run over to it immediately, but are halted by a sharp “No.” from the brown-haired guy. 

Said brown-haired guy is looking at you distrustfully, and you feel your blood begin to boil with his distrust (even though HE is in YOU home). 

“Okay dude, I get you don’t know me or whatever but you guys literally broke into my house, so if anyone is supposed to be cautious here it’s me. M. E. Me. I’m offering your… children…? Adult babies? Boys? Food, and damnit if they want it then they’re gonna eat it.” Your little outburst gets you several shocked looks, but you’re so FUCKING tired, you’ve just got no energy to deal with this. 

“We 'broke into your house’?” He repeats slowly, “I have no recollection of our relocation to your… house, and I’ve never seen someone of your caliber, nor a place so… odd, before. So forgive me if I am skeptical of our suspiciously willing host.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm, and it successfully ruffles your self control. 

“Now you listen here Mr. Broody, I’m not about to get sass in my own home. By god if Penny didn’t seem to love you so much I would vaporize you where you stand!” Big talk for such a small person, yes, but you stand by your statement. 

Only you don’t get the reaction you were expecting, because suddenly everyone looks horrified. 

“You can do that?” One of the small blond boys(?) gasps, scooting closer to his look-alike. 

The guy you were mouthing off to grabs the hilt of his -is that a fucking sword?!- weapon and steps in front of the small guys. The tall blond dude, other actual human, and short ginger haired man do the same, and suddenly you feel a lot less satisfied. 

“Woah there fellas, It’s a figure of speech!” You say quickly, raising your hands in a surrender motion. 

Penny senses your sudden distress, so she bounds over to you and presses her nose against your knee in a way meant to gather your attention. You glance down at her and visibly relax before looking back up at the still tense men in front of you. 

“Tough crowd…” You reach down slowly and pat Penny’s head, watching as their eyes follow your movements. “Okay, look. I’m not going to like, poison you or whatever you’re afraid of. How about we start with introductions, hm?" 

The same guy from before nods his head slowly (it seems he’s the leader here) and tells you a little hesitantly, "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. A Ranger, also known as Strider by most." 

What in the ever loving hell did he just say?

You can’t even stop the laughter from bellowing out of you, because this is just so god damn ridiculous and completely baffling. You grasp your stomach and double over with laughter while everyone else just watches silently and confusedly.

Eventually your laughter begins to subside when your sides start to hurt, so you stand up a bit straighter and wipe a tear from the corner of your eye, "Ahaha, ah… wow that’s good. But really though, I’m not looking for stage names bud, I’m being serious here.”

This 'Aragorn’ doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do. “Stage names? No, I believe you are misunderstanding.”

The smile on your face drops and you suddenly don’t find it as funny either. “So… your name is actually Aragorn then?” Well, maybe not all of them have weird names, “Right, then what about the rest of you?" 

The other guy who looks like an actual human speaks up next, "I am Boromir, son of Denethor and Captain of Gondor.” Oh heck. 

Blondie comes up next, “I am Legolas from the woodland realm.”

Shortie #1, “Gimli Son of Gloin." 

The small dark haired man child comes forward, "I am Frodo Baggins, and these are my friends Samwise Gamgee, Peregrin Took, and Meriadoc Brandybuck." 

"What the-” you pause and cover Penny’s ears, “Fuck is all of this?" 

It seems your actions amuse the taller dudes because their stand-offish demeanors diminish as they seem to deem you harmless (I mean who covers their dogs ears when cursing? Clearly you’re pathetic).

"I’m afraid I don’t know what to tell you.” Mr. Aragorn states. 

“Well, start with where you come from, maybe?”

They all share a look before 'Legolas’ states, “We come from Middle Earth and have just traveled through the Mines of Moria." 

You literally don’t know what any of that means.

"Well, alright. Right now, I can tell you that you’re on Regular Earth and in my living room.” You don’t mean to be so sarcastic, but both the functional and rational parts of your brain are failing you big time, “Do you know how you got here?" 

You get 8 respective no’s, and while you expected that, it’s no less frustrating. "Shoulda seen that one coming, I guess." 

The Gimli character looks you up and down and asks in his gruff voice, "And what about you, you’ve not told us who you are." 

"Oh, right, my bad. I’m Y/N, and this cutie,” you reach down and pick up Penny’s front paws from the ground and wave them at the group, “Is Penny. She is the softest, sweetest, and cutest doggo you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. Disrespect her and there will be consequences." 

You stand back up and pat Penny’s head, watching as they all nod their understanding and appear rather nervous suddenly.

"That was also a joke.”

Most of them relax.

You tap your foot a few times and seem to think over your options, looking away from them and out the window. 

Clearly there is something very wrong going on here, so you can’t just throw them out, but at the same time you don’t have enough energy to deal with this today. And there’s the very real possibility that they could be psychos. But there’s also the fact that they seem to be a little worse for wear, some of them have puffy eyes, and is that blood?  Their disheveled and tired appearances tug at your heart strings, and you find yourself wanting to help them. 

“Okay, against my better judgement I have decided that I’m going to welcome the lot of you into my house until we can figure out what the hell is going on here.” This seems to surprise Aragorn and his two tall besties. “I don’t know why… but something is telling me that I should help you out, so I guess that’s what I’m going to do.”

Two of the small blond ones smile brightly, but you haven’t finished yet. 

“But!” Their smiles drop and everyone seems rather serious again, “If any of you try anything funny or start any trouble, I will kick all of you out. I don’t know any of you, and you all have weapons. So if I’m gonna let you stay then you’re going to have to behave.”

“Miss Y/N, you do not have to-” Aragorn begins, but you put up your hand and shake your head. 

“It’s fine. Just please don’t break anything, and if Penny wants head pats you had better give them to her." 

It seems your rules are fair enough, because you get 8 more head nods.

The two small people attack the snack you made finally, and you find that you can’t help but to laugh a bit. 

A thought then strikes you, "Oh!" 

Everything pauses and every looks at you again, more alert, but you just roll your eyes at how on edge they are.

"I was just going to say that I have two bathrooms is anyone wants to wash up.”

[midnightprelude]

10 Characters I Would Kiss

Tagged by @pikapeppa​, thanks friend.

Dear god, 10?! Let me tell you something, dear reader. I love kissing. I would kiss all day and all night if I could somehow learn how to not eat and poop etc. I would kiss you dear reader, if you were close enough to make smooching possible. Picking 10 fictional characters to kiss, now that is something that tears at the very fiber of my being. 

I’m purposefully avoiding DA babies because I WOULD KISS THEM ALLLLLLLLLLLL (except okay, like Corypheus, no, sorry bro). 

But I am all about growth. Let’s do this. They’re in no particular order, here, except Newt is actually #1. 

1. Elizabeth Bennet

Because she’s the real star of that story, not tall, dark, and grumpy (though I love him and would smooch him too, let’s be real).

2. QUEEN ELSA

Maybe it’s because the new movie is IMMINENT, but I’m having feels for that lovely Ice Queen who deserves all the nice things, which apparently include a smooch from yours truly? Sorry Elsa.

3. Loki

THAT SMILE COULD MELT ALL OF JOTUNHEIM *screaming*.

4. Aragorn

All Hail the King of Gondor.

5. Margaery Tyrell

The Princess of Thorns, gone too soon.

6. Oberyn Martell

THE PRINCE WE DIDN’T DESERVE *still sobbing*.

7. Newt Scamander

NEWT YOU PERFECT MAN, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. He’s sensitive, loves animals, and is a bit of a rebel, but in the softest way possible. GOD. I LOVE HIM, OKAY?!

8. Hermione Granger

Okay, true story, I did a lot of HPRP when I was like 12-14 and always avoided Harry’s generation because people would ship Hermione with guys who DID NOT DESERVE HER and I would always get outraged and leave. NONE OF THOSE LOSERS DESERVE YOU, HONEY. XD

9. Edward Elric

Even if he would have to stand on his tip toes. :)

10. Elizabeth Swann

Okay, I have two Kiera characters on here now, so I’m pretty sure you all know who my celebrity crush is. But let me just say, Pirate Elizabeth is all I need in this life. ALSO another female character that nobody deserves. 

11. Eliot Waugh and Margo Hanson

BONUS: I love me some Fillorian royalty and would kiss them both any time, any day. Hopefully at the same time. AHHHHHH.

Tagging on to @johaeryslavellan​, @levikra​, @whimsyswastry​, @elveny​ and @faerieavalon​ if you haven’t already done this one. Tagging @lethendralis-paints​ and @tryvyalsynnes​ to await your judgement. XD

[atheistj]

Lately I’ve been thinking about all the female fans of Lord of the Rings. The books and movies are very popular among women, which you wouldn’t necessarily expect given that there are far more male characters than female characters. So what’s different about this franchise compared to other male dominated franchises? It’s a pretty obvious answer that I’m sure has been discussed before. It’s the way in which the male characters are portrayed, and the emphasis on their relationships with each other. To put it simply, they’re well written characters that don’t fall into the “macho alpha male” trope, and in a big action franchise, that’s pretty refreshing.

I’d say the only characters that come close to falling under that trope, but still don’t, are Aragorn, Boromir, and Eomer.

Aragorn would be the most obvious character to end up as the macho alpha dude given that he’s one of the best fighters in the movies, he’s a romantic lead, and he’s got the “great destiny” trope. He’s not the macho alpha male in the books at all, and they avoided portraying him that way in the movie. Aragorn is probably one of the softest characters in the series. You can see that in his interactions with Arwen and also Frodo. He’s very protective of the whole fellowship, constantly looking out for all of them, and he doesn’t try to pretend otherwise. He’s never the cold guy who secretly cares. He openly cares. As for his “great destiny” to be king, he rejects it for a long time because he was ashamed to be Isildur’s heir given how Isildur fell to the Ring’s power. He doesn’t take on his destiny to be king eagerly. He gradually accepts it and eventually embraces it, and is able to succeed against the Ring where Isildur had failed.

In terms of personality, Boromir is probably closer to that alpha male trope than Aragorn. He’s a proud and stubborn soldier. His people adore him and see him as a heroic warrior. He rejects Aragorn as king immediately when he discovered his heritage. A lot of these things would typically have him fall under the trope. However, he still doesn’t, for some of the same reasons Aragorn doesn’t. In the flashback scene with Faramir, Boromir is unabashedly tender with his brother. He tries to credit Faramir with their victory at Osgiliath to their father, and when Denethor insults Faramir, he tries to tell him that Faramir loves him and clearly hates his “favorite son” position. He is in no way the jerk big brother. This is further reinforced by how much Faramir mourns him after Boromir dies.

Boromir’s friendship with Merry and Pippin is a favorite among fans, for good reason. Fellowship of the Ring did a great job of including small scenes of Boromir looking out for them, making it all the more heartbreaking when he died protecting them. In a lot of their scenes, you can see that Boromir had a big brother instinct. A great moment is when all the hobbits are crying about the loss of Gandalf and it’s Boromir who wants to let them have a moment to grieve, and not press on in their journey. Yes, Boromir may have momentarily succumbed to the power of the Ring, but he redeems himself when he dies protecting Merry and Pippin. As for his relationship with Aragorn and his initial skepticism of him, the first movie and book shows his developing respect for Aragorn. Ultimately, at the end of his life, he pledged his support for Aragorn as his king. Boromir was next in line to rule Gondor as steward, and he would have given that up to follow Aragorn. Boromir may have been stubborn and proud, traits you’d expect the alpha male character to have, but his relationship with his brother, Merry, Pippin, and others, as well as his development in regards to Aragorn, all prevent him from filling that trope.

Eomer is another character that could come pretty close to falling under the alpha male trope. He has that hard ass personality, far more than both Aragorn and Boromir. I think he shields his emotions more than both of them. When Gimli makes a relatively harmless comment, even if it was a little biting, Eomer’s reaction is to belittle him for his size and to threaten to cut off his head. He also jokes about Merry’s size and believes him incapable because he is small, and that his sister is incapable because she is a woman. All of that is par for the course for alpha male characters.

I think in the book we get more of Eomer’s development. There is more focus on how he and Gimli make up and become friends. We also get to hear more about the loss of his parents, which is likely what turned him into such a hard ass. What the movies did well, and Karl Urban deserves a lot of credit for it, is show his tenderness towards Eowyn. They don’t have too many scenes, but whenever they’re on screen together, Karl will do something like touch her shoulder or make eye contact with her. He’s always very aware of her, and these little moments show us how much he cares for her. This ultimately leads up to his discovery of what he believes to be Eowyn’s dead body after the battle at Minas Tirith. In both the book and the movie, Eomer is devastated. In the book he becomes essentially suicidal, charging into battle recklessly after he sees her. In the movie, he weeps openly and cradles her body in his arms. He doesn’t leave her side in the Houses of Healing. Eomer’s adoration of his sister, similar to Boromir’s love for Faramir, to me, keeps him from the alpha male trope.

Those are the only three characters that I would say come close to the hyper masculine lead we often see in film, but for the reasons I just gave, none of them really fall under that category.

As for the other characters, I wouldn’t say Gimli or Legolas are anywhere near that trope. Both of them are super badass, but that’s about the only thing they have in common with that trope. Yes, they’re distrusting of each other at first, trading insults and the like, but ultimately, they become best friends. This friendship is also a fan favorite. The movies develop it very well, and if anything, it’s emphasized even more in the books. Tolkien describes them as loving each other. Legolas ultimately takes Gimli to the undying lands with him likely because he didn’t want to be parted from him. This sort of emphasis on relationships is part of why this series is so popular. You don’t feel distance between the characters. You do feel like they love each other.

I think Gandalf is also really relevant to this discussion given just about everything he represents as a character. Gandalf is certainly one of the most badass, if not the most badass, characters in the series. The scene when he takes on the Balrog is iconic for a reason. But I think what’s more important about him is the way he loves hobbits, and the simpler things in life. He goes to the Shire because hobbits make him happy. In The Hobbit he says he believes that it is simple acts of kindness that keep darkness at bay. Gandalf is a believer in the good in the world, and the hobbits usually represent that good. Saruman believes it’s all about power, and he is wrong in believing this. Gandalf is both the biggest badass who will take on a Balrog and a softie who loves to go to the Shire and put on a fireworks show for hobbits. You don’t have to be cold and distant to be a badass, and Gandalf exemplifies that.

I hardly think I need to talk about the hobbits. But hey, let’s do it anyway. They’re the heart of the series. Without the hobbits, Middle Earth would not have been saved. The hobbits are heroic not because they’re physically strong or amazing fighters, but because they are good. Deep in their hearts, they are not hungry for power or angry and bitter, they are good and kind, believers in the simple life and simple joys. I think this resonates with a lot of people, because usually the hero is some great and noble warrior, and that is not the case here. I think Merry said it best when he was talking to Eowyn.

“I know there is not much point now in hoping. If I were a knight of Rohan capable of great deeds…but I’m not. I’m a hobbit. And I know I can’t save Middle Earth. I just want to help my friends.”

That I think sums up what is so great about all of the hobbits. Frodo says something similar, that they set out to save the Shire when they went on their mission. They did not do this for the glory or their legacy or any of that. They just wanted to save their home, their friends, and their family. That was what mattered to them, and there is something incredibly noble in that. The hobbits are heroic in a different way than we usually see in movies. We don’t see a lot of characters like them, and that’s what makes them special. Sam and Frodo save Middle Earth essentially with the power of friendship. They loved each other so much that they were able to finish their journey, but only because they had each other to keep going.

I think the other thing that draws people to Lord of the Rings is the optimism of the whole story. There is no cynicism to be found here. In a lot of fantasy, you see this “deep down, everyone is a monster” trope, which I kind of hate. That is not the case in LOTR. Yeah, you see characters succumb to darkness, but they ultimately overcome it. I don’t think you could say about any of the protagonists that they were truly a bad person, and that is something I love about it.

So IDK where this ended up. This started as something about why female fans really love Lord of the Rings, and the alpha male trope, but it turned into just a think piece about the movies. But I think a lot of what I said does relate to why women have been drawn to the series, and why so many of us love it so much.