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doodle-pops · 13 days

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Dating Glorfindel Would Include...

ʚɞ He’s like a golden retriever, filled with boundless energy and wants to be all over you. He cannot spend five seconds without some form of physical contact, be it holding hands, kissing you, or bumping shoulders.

ʚɞ One of the simplest things he likes to do is to hold your hand during walks, showing everyone that you’re his. He’s absolutely proud to know that you chose him to be your significant other so, he does his best to show you that you chose well.

ʚɞ Your time courting him will never be dull. Every moment spent with him will be full of energy and laughter.

ʚɞ Whenever there’s a party, festival or ball, you are the first couple on the dance floor. The first time you dance at a ball, you are surprised to learn that he is an excellent dancer since you have never seen him dance when asked by others.

ʚɞ He’s an amazing singer but he’ll only sing for you. You are the only person worthy in his eyes to hear his voice.

ʚɞ He enjoys going for rides with you on his horse. Sometimes the both of you will sit together or on separate horses and race each other across the open fields. There are times when he’s in a goofy mood and he’ll sit in front of you on Asfaloth, ignoring the fact that you can’t see.

ʚɞ Wherever you may be working he will always find time during the day to visit you. If it’s to bring you a meal of food or just stop by to say hello, he will always make the time. Even when he’s not on patrol or doing any duties, he’s sparring. He takes this opportunity to spar shirtless in hopes that when you pass by, you’ll ogle at his physique.

ʚɞ Should you do pass by, he shows off a lot more flexing his muscles and fighting with more power and strength to defeat his opponent showing you how strong he is. One time he flexed his muscles too hard, and he caught a cramp. To say the least, it was embarrassing for him.

ʚɞ Know that every day you will be receiving a bouquet of flowers at your doorstep. There are times he’d be able to deliver it and other times when he’ll send a worker.

ʚɞ He knows that he’s not the best cook but he’s willing to try making most of your favourite meals and desserts. Sometimes he’d invite you over into the kitchen so that you could show him how to make your favourite meals. You also do the same by sending meals and desserts for him when he’s working very hard. He always gets over-emotional whenever you do so.

ʚɞ Speaking of him being emotional, Glorfindel is genuinely a compassionate individual and it’s truly an honour to experience firsthand his ability to extend his empathy to others in need of it. Even you are fortunate to be on the receiving end when times are tough on your end.

ʚɞ He’s a cuddle bug so once you’re in his arms there’s no escaping, you’re never leaving you just have to stay there and accept your fate. He has no shame in basking you kisses but he won’t go overboard since he is a Lord and looked upon.

ʚɞ Whenever you’re cuddling you tend to run your hands through his hair which knocks him out. He’s very flamboyant so, expect a lot of grand moments with him but not to worry he does take your reactions seriously; he knows what’s acceptable and what isn’t.

ʚɞ Depending on the age you met, you get the opportunity to hear his tales of the olden days when his fellow Lords and friends were alive. Around these moments are when he relies on a slice of comfort from you to reassure him that there’s still good in his life despite all that he’s lost.

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celebrimbot · 1 year

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glorfindel my beloved

#my art #lotr #insp #lord of the rings #silm #silmarillion #tolkien #glorfindel #lotr art #laurefindil

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theelfmaiden · 4 months

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My dear guys, I wish you all an amazing year of 2024, may it be plentiful, joyful, and may we all meet here again. Thanks so much for all the support you gave me, I treasure each of you dearly! 🤗🎉

(And my first little animation ever as well 😅💗 this dtiys Glorfy is still one of my most fav things I've drawn 🏵)

#tolkien #the silmarillion #glorfindel #glorfindel of the golden flower #laurefindil #fan art #my art #joli's art #animation #traditional art

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lovefairymina · 3 months

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*Hugs Glorfindel and cries for four hours, never once letting go of him*

“There, there,” he coos while rubbing gentle circles into your back the tighter you squeeze him, let them all out. I guarantee you shall feel better.”

#♡{sweet.hugs} ~ {glorfindel}#glorfindel #glorfindel x you #glorfindel imagine #glorfindel x y/n #laurefindil #house of the golden flower #lords of gondolin #gondolin #rivendell #imladris #lotr imagines #silm imagines #middle earth imagine

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theelvenhaven · 8 months

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Comforting Glorfindel

Having an Anxiety Attack

Request: If there's still headcanon slots available and one of these ideas strikes you: maybe how Glorfindel and/or Penlod would react to reader having an anxiety flair up where their normal coping mechanisms aren't working and they need extra help (platonic or romantic)? Or if that doesn't strike you, maybe vice versa where they need help from reader? I haven't been on Tumblr recently so I'm about to scroll through your blog and play catch up. Looking forward to reading what I've missed/what's coming up! I hope you're well ❤️

A/N: I decided to do this vice versa, and comfort one of our beloveds for a change. So I hope you enjoy! <;3

*****

♕ Glorfindel isn't afraid of his feelings, but he does struggle with showing his most vulnerable emotions with anyone, especially when it makes him feels so weak.

♕ Not to mention Glorfindel doesn't want to worry you about what the toll of war has taken out from him.

♕ Glorfindel will often try and put on a stronger persona in an effort to try and soothe any concerns that you may have about him.

♕ But that doesn't mean that despite all his best efforts that anxiety attacks don't creep up on him.

♕ Usually he can feel when they're about to happen, and he is quick to dismiss himself from the public place if he can.

♕ Even if you try to press if he's okay, he will only assure you he is as he hurries away.

♕ Following him out is the only way you're going to come face to face with the fact that he's having a panic attack.

♕ At first Glorfindel doesn't realize that you've followed him out, so he begins to loosen his collar and breathe shakily and heavily, his hands starting to shake and feeling like he can't breathe.

♕ By the time he turns to see if he's alone, it's too late to hide his symptoms from you, that you recognize immediately for what it is.

♕ Glorfindel is used to having deal with these himself, and he doesn't have the best coping skills, so at first he tries to thwart you from helping him.

♕ But if you persist, albeit, gently Glorfindel gives in as you reach for his hands and gently help him sit on the ground.

♕ You sit in between his legs as he cries and shakes, trying to catch his breath, helping him take slow deep breaths guiding him through it.

♕ At first Glorfindel is a bit hesitant, but your voice and the feel of your hands in his is just so soothing and he starts to listen to what you're saying.

♕ Especially as you reassure him he's safe, and that everything's going to be okay.

♕ IF anything Glorfindel is also panicking that you're going to be mad at him for having kept something like this from you and he profusely apologizes between the tears and his shaky breathing.

♕ Reassuring him calmly that it's okay, and that you're far from mad at him helps ease the anxiety, he is very receptive to your words as he trusts you implicitly.

♕ Glorfindel doesn't just respond to verbal affection and soothing, he also responds well to physical affection.

♕ Now that he knows you're not mad at him, or that you're not going to embarrass him, Glorfindel will take the opportunity to lean forward and rest his head against your shoulder and hold you close to him.

♕ When you embrace him back, he loves the feel of one arm around his neck and the other carding through his hair.

♕ It makes him feel safe and protected, even if he's the one that has to do the protecting more often than not.

♕ Holding him like this, and rocking him gently helps lift the weight off his shoulders and he rests his body weight against you- carefully.

♕ His symptoms start to die down slowly.

♕ Glorfindel's breathing becomes even, his hands stop shaking, he feels more relaxed but tired and most importantly comforted by you.

♕ He's internally kicking himself for not having brought this to your attention sooner, as going through it with you there to help him has made it a less stressful experience.

♕ As you start to check in on him asking if he's okay, Glorfindel is sheepish and confesses to you that he is not okay but he does feel better having you there with him.

♕ He doesn't part from you, but instead clings to you tightly as if he's afraid to let you go.

♕ Finally Glorfindel will start to open up to you, especially as you start to question him and what was going on.

♕ He explains to you what set him off, how long he's been suffering through these still clinging to you.

♕ Glorfindel tells you how much he loves you, and thanks you profusely for your patience with him and your lack of judgement over his predicament.

♕ Your reminder to him that of course you'd do this for him, and that you love him and his partner warms his heart.

♕ Glorfindel knows he's got his perfect one, being with you and the fact that you'd go out of your way selflessly to care for him when he was so vulnerable.

****

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @noldorinpainter

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fonmuller · 2 years

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Glorfindel, Lord of the Golden Flower is finally here :D

#silmarillion #lotr #glorfindel #laurefindil #gondolin #tolkien #fanart #my art

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curiouselleth · 10 months

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#glorfindel #laurefindil #glorfindel of the house of the golden flower #Silm #silmarillion #lotr #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #lotr poll #silm poll #poll #polls #tolkien #the silmarillion

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solmarillion · 9 months

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TOLKIEN HIMBO POLL: Round 1

Glorfindel vs Fingon

[art credit: Mathia Arkoniel, Jenny Dolfen]

#glorfindel #fingon #laurefindil #findekano #tolkien himbo poll #silmarillion poll #silm polls #lord of the rings #silmarillion #tolkien polls #lotr poll

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drunkshogun · 2 years

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Step into the Darkness

Glorfindel

#silmarillion #silmarillionart #silmarillion elf #silm art #lotr silm #LOTR #LOTR fandom #lotr fanart #lotr art #glorfindel #laurefindil #laurefinde #elf #Tolkien's legendarium #tolkien's elf #tolkien legendarium

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doodle-pops · 6 months

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A Matter of Honour and Pride

Glorfindel x reader

Kinktober 2023: Cunnilingus

A/N: Something about Glorfindel having great elven pride in his nature and being dedicated about it is just…beautiful. I feel like I should have made the entire exchange between them a separate fic the way I loved it so much :)

Warnings: fem!reader, cunnilingus, stubborn reader, a teeny weeny spanking, making out in public (because Glorfy has no shame)

Words: 3.3k

Synopsis: In matters of intimacy, a clash of mortal and elven pride unfolds. Glorfindel, driven by his deep elven pride, considers it a grave concern when his pride is wounded.

List of Requests

“So, you’re telling me that elves by nature aren’t sexual beings in the manner mortals are; however, when it comes to pleasure, you do not joke in that area?” you puzzled with an intrigued expression gracing your visage. You had hoped he would have heard your puzzling question over the loud ambience of the folks gathered in the Hall of Fire to celebrate the New Year. Possibly the worse place you could have decided to treat with the cocky golden–haired Lord.

The tales you had heard about him were indeed true, he was blinding the moment you laid eyes on him and full of pride towards the abilities of his race of folks. Nothing that slipped his tongue tonight ever diminished the pride and strength of his race, only boastings and cheers towards their accomplishments. Though his words of upliftment were joyous—nothing wrong with praising your race of folks—the need to make juxtaposes between men and elves was unnecessary. Nonetheless, his words were making chalk out of your teeth the more he spoke about elves, elves and more elves with less praise to men in the…pleasure department.

Standing in the furthest corner of the Halls, there you braced yourself against the wall while the noble Lord hovered with a much larger chalice in his hand, slowly slipping his grape–flavoured wine and eyeing you with interest. He wasn’t sure if it were your lips or the direction the conversation had drifted which had he ensnared, but he was sure it was you, nevertheless. Lifting the chalice to take another swig, his jaded eyes bore holes into your skull, sending waves of heat coursing through your body and leaving goosebumps.

“Hmm,” he hummed with seduction, eyes never leaving your face and lips, “it is so. However, despite not being promiscuous as men, one session with us is enough to leave one satisfied for weeks into months or even years until next we engage in intimacy.”

Chuckling at his witty comeback, you rolled your eyes and broke the palpable eye contact to glance at the dancefloor brimming with bodies swaying to the upbeat melody. “You know, if you have a low appetite and cannot fuck for long hours or multiple times, there should be no need for shame. Just say you elves cannot last for multiple rounds instead of making up telltales, and admit that men have a greater appetite than you,” you condescendingly replied with a smirk.

Biting his lips to withhold the growing smirk, he hung his head to lowly groan while releasing soft chuckles; you clearly had the wrong impression of his statement. Giving his lips a lick and stepping closer to tower over you—as if he wasn’t already—he craned his neck down to whisper as lowly as he could with a sinister grin dancing on his lips, “You entirely mistook my praise, my dear. It meant that us elves can indeed fuck for long hours, even days…in one go without stopping. One session is equivalent to days ramping in the sheets with us. We simply pleasure better than men; stamina and ability you lack to leave an everlasting effect.”

Wanting to react the way your body and mind were to his correction, you quickly recomposed your expression and posture, cleared your throat and scoffed. “Like I’d believe that. So what if one session is a couple of days between the sheets—normal, but how is one supposed to feel satisfied for months or years after that? It’s quite impossible if I say.”

Astonished by your lack of belief towards his factual statements about the nature of elves, he jerked his head backwards, stunned. The appalled look on his face bewitched his body and soul as he continued to observe your unbothered expression as you lazily sipped your wine and glanced around the dancefloor. You were supposed to be enthralled by the sexual prowess of the elves, not discard the information like a dirty rag. Was there something he wasn’t saying to capture your interest? Surely he used the right tricks in the book by speaking proudly about the stamina elves can endure, something the race of men lacked and should impress mortal women.

“Forgive me but,” he began with a light cough to regain your attention, “you don’t appear to be impressed by the skills of the elves when they clearly outweigh those of a mortal man. Am I correct?” He cocked his head to the other side allowing his golden tendrils to follow his movements and flow like a river of water. His hazy jaded eyes and reddened lips were a testament to how mad you were driving him to quelch his pride as an elf.

“You are right; I am unimpressed.” You paused to quench your thirst before continuing. “I find those facts to be one-sided given the monogamous relationships that elves practice and their lack of promiscuity in their lifestyle. Those praises reside from those whose pleasure is only heightened by the bond created from marriage and not one who is simply experiencing intimacy for the sake of bliss,” you elaborated with an arrogant smirk toying on your lips. The bolder and daring your egotistical look of self-praise grew, the more annoyed the golden hair Lord became as his grip tightened on his chalice.

Twitching his eye as an irritated look governed his face the more he stared at your smug expression, his pride flared with urgency to consume the very fibre of your being and prove you wrong. It was within his nature as an elf to remember the juxtaposes between man and elf; call him superior if you wish, there were things that elves wished to be considered the best at with pride.

“So, my words will only be considered factual if you are proven wrong?” He half-heartedly grinned.

“Hmm, yes. Otherwise, all that motion you did with your mouth would only be considered artistical and linguistical nonsense,” you dispassionately declared with another roll of your eyes and looked at your half–empty cup.

Liking the direction of where the conversation had drifted to, he couldn’t help but twist his tongue in his mouth at your words. What game were you playing with him? He could have sworn that you were purposefully egging him on, and he willingly allowed himself to play along, enjoying the challenge. “And what if I can prove to you that the motion of my mouth and,” he took the opportunity to dip closer and ghost his lips against the shell of your ear and whispered temptingly, “tongue can be artistic in other forms that will make you retract your statements?”

You froze at the proximity of his body brushing against yours; the heat rippling off and stirring your insides. The taunt muscles that he spent ages developing were pressed against your feeble figure causing your head to spin if it had not been for his hot breath and lips against the shell of your ear. You could feel his tongue slipping past his lips to trace the outline of your cartilage, slightly nibbling as he got lower until his lips became attached to your skin. The action made your drink slip from your grip, luckily due to his heightened senses, he was able to catch your cup midway through kissing the underside of your ear.

Lips still attached to the skin, he pressed your body flush against the wall, ignoring the notion that you were still trapped in a crowded room with spectators, he was determined to prove the abilities of an elf to you. However, it was you who reached your hand in between and gave a gentle push to break up the act.

Panting and attempting to not make eye contact all for the sake of not wanting to display how affected you were and to keep up your masquerade, you heaved and looked behind him, into the distance. “I thought elves weren’t indulgent?”

“I’m willing to bend the rules to prove me right,” he panted.

Darting your eyes to his reddened visage, you twisted your lips. “Prideful that much?”

Without missing a beat, he boasted, “Pride.”

If you had foreseen that you would end up in this situation right from the start, you might have skipped the entire conversation and urged him to prove himself right without delay. However, the anxious anticipation of defending your mortal pride was also essential to establish your dominance as a lesser being constantly overshadowed by others. Nonetheless, the position you now found yourself in, whether regarded as compromising or empowering, was undeniably pleasurable.

Having an elf on his knees, fervently worshipping your mortal body in a desperate bid to prove himself right while also ensuring your utmost pleasure was a scenario that couldn't have been more satisfying. However, your view became obscured when he swiftly removed your clothing and spun you around to face the cold oak doors, all while he eagerly dropped to his knees to worship. In line with his seductive prowess, he assured that he could deliver an unparalleled level of pleasure without penetration, as he had promised, solely by using his godly skilled tongue.

The loud, lascivious sounds of his tongue and lips slurping and smacking against your cunt with every twist and suction reverberated throughout the room. You were fortunate to have returned to his room in the nick of time, especially considering his hands and mouth had been all over your body the moment you departed the Hall of Fire. Thankfully, no unsuspecting elf had to witness the scandalous sight of their Lord engaging in intimate activities with an innocent mortal maiden in the corridor just meters away from his estate. Nevertheless, you were appreciative that the elf Lord was now on his knees, his face buried between your thighs, fervently slurping away as if it were his last meal.

A loud smack to your ass and his larger hands adjusted your body to arch into a deep curve. Your face was pressed against the cold wooden doors while your ass was stuck outwards from Glorfindel to marvel at while he slipped his tongue past your entrance. You would have found the position to be awkward and unappealing at first given the appearance of having your ass in his face, but he proved to you that it was enjoyable as if your legs were wrapped around his head. Grabbing your ass and spreading your cheeks apart to reach his tongue deeper and pushing his face into your heat, he thrust his tongue and curled it, forcing you to squeal louder for him.

“Hmm, don’t be so quiet about it dear. You know you’re enjoying this just as much as I am,” he taunted and teased while giving smacks to your ass and leaving handprints across the area.

Fighting to understand if the rolling of your eyes were due to the pleasure or the smugness in his voice, you found yourself slipping against the door as your sweat built. Fingers scraping against the wood, Glorfindel seemed to pay no mind to the destruction you were causing to his room; he didn’t mind if you trashed the entire place so long as you left here with your opinion in his favour.

Squealing and mewling as his tongue slipped out only for his entire heated mouth to engulf the entire area and form a suction over your clit; had his hand not found purchase on your hips to keep you upright, you would have toppled over. The motion of his lips over your clit reminded you of his linguistic abilities as Lord as he abused the tiny nub like a pacifier. The sounds were lewd as he continued to drink everything your body offered him freely; even the small trickles of liquid as your cunt clenched and squirted into his mouth, he consumed without pause. He refused to use his fingers, wanting to solely prove that his tongue was artistically inclined to demonstrate a prowess unlike any other.

“M-My Lord, fuck, ngghh,” you moaned into the door while his tongue ran over your sensitive clit and flicked it. “Hmm, so good—”

What the hell were you saying? You couldn’t slip up even though the pleasure was euphoric.

You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole for agreeing that he was indeed pleasuring you with the highest degree of satisfaction. To make matters worse, he agreed that he wasn’t going to engage in intercourse to prove his point about how otherworldly and spiritually powerful his race had on the body when it came to pleasure. He’d keep you here all week to get it into your head, and it him as he mentioned, “That’s just one session for us elves sweetheart.”

Smug superior being.

Chuckling into your core, his lips firmly grasping your clit, the resulting vibrations sent shivers coursing through your body, compelling you to arch even further into his embrace. You weren’t certain if it was possible to contort into a more debasing position than the one you currently occupied, but given his unwavering determination, he seemed capable of bending you into even more contorted shapes just to assert his elven superiority and compel you to acknowledge your inferiority.

“Are you enjoying this, my dear?” he murmured, his voice muffled as he allowed your ass to envelop his face, unconcerned about the possibility of suffocation, as long as he achieved his objectives first. His hands were actively exploring the rest of your body, primarily focused on your breasts, eager to grope them since he had been denied the opportunity earlier. His fingers teased and manipulated your sensitive nipples while he emitted low growls into your core, revelling in the increasing flow of your arousal and the trembling of your body. This was precisely what he had desired.

He longed to witness the expression on your face as the undeniable truth gradually unfolded, forcing you to confront your denials head-on. He relished the prospect of observing you struggle to reject his abilities, even as the evidence was as clear as day. However, he didn’t mind if you chose to cling to your denials; it only meant that he would keep you ensnared and engrossed in pleasure for the remainder of the week, rendering your tongue incapable of uttering dissent.

As your legs quivered uncontrollably, you bit your lip to stifle the moans and whimpers that threatened to escape. The tears welling up at the corners of your eyes served as testimony to the undeniable reality he presented, yet you remained steadfast in your refusal to concede to his pride. This couldn't be the truth; it must be some illusion crafted by deceitful elves and their enchantments.

“Fuck!” you cried out as your body convulsed. “F-Far from enjoying i-it. You should p-put your back into it more, I barely feel a t–…thing!”

Suppressing a chuckle, it escaped unexpectedly, bursting forth but immediately muffled by the enveloping warmth of his mouth on your pussy. The resulting vibrations rippled through your body, sending waves of goosebumps cascading down your spine. Your legs nearly buckled from the clever manoeuvre, betraying your resolve as your body responded contrary to your intentions. At that moment, his left hand abandoned your breast, descending upon your ass with a firm touch, eliciting a chorus of squeaks and gasps, his aim clearly to extract more moans from you.

The apprehension swirling in your mind, as your body defied your steadfast intentions, was humbling. Here he was, coaxing your reactions like a skilled snake charmer. You bit down on your lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to fend off the growing sensations welling up in the pit of your stomach. This couldn’t be real; your body couldn’t possibly be experiencing pleasure of such overwhelming intensity. If this was just the outcome of one round, with the session barely underway, you doubted your ability to endure the ensuing hours or days if he chose to push the boundaries further, as a testament to his resolve.

The suctions of his lips, moving in perfect harmony with his tongue, shattered your ability to concentrate on anything besides the consuming pleasure of being pleasured orally. His languid strokes over your clit, alternating with teasing nips and gentle kisses, sent your mind spiralling into oblivion. You couldn’t discern which way was up, down, left, or right. For all you knew, you could have been transported to another realm while your most intimate desires were savoured like a sumptuous five-course meal. Why was he so fervent and insistent? You yearned to push him away, yet simultaneously, you craved to keep him closer as the mounting pressure threatened to breach the dam.

You were on the brink, desperately fighting the surge of your mortal pride as it threatened to drown you in the overwhelming desire to cum all over his tantalizing tongue and eager face. You weren’t supposed to enjoy this, yet every stroke and thrust of his tongue felt like a divine gift, setting your body on a path to cloud nine. The undeniable arousal flowing from your core made it nearly impossible to maintain your defences. Damn it, you despised your own body and cursed the magic of his tongue, yet you willingly pushed your ass out to meet its tantalizing movements.

As your body tensed, you couldn’t be sure if you collapsed or if he had pulled you closer, but you knew that the pleasure surged and broke through your dams. All you could discern was that your back was no longer pressed against the door but against a solid wall of sinewy muscle. The soft moans you had been holding back escaped your lips, carried through the air to meet his senses, spreading a triumphant grin across his face. Your arousal smeared across his visage; his lips and chin were adorned with your slick essence, his eyes glazed and brimming with a primal delight. He withdrew slightly, allowing his hands to explore your core, teasing your clit and savouring the way your body quivered and trembled under his skilful touch.

“Are you ready to yield and confess?” he inquired; his voice laced with a challenge.

Squealing from the touch of his finger against your entrance, dancing around the inner lips, you cried out, “N-No! So what—So what if you made me cum; what does that prove?” You were quite the challenge and determined to reject his narrative on the nature of elves.

Your body had already surrendered, sprawled lethargically on the floor in a foetal curl, trembling ever so slightly. It felt as if he had electrified you a thousand times over, and his heightened sensitivity was only adding to the overwhelming aftermath. He continued to goad you, pushing you further toward his grasp as if you hadn't been within his control all along.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning over your limp form, his lips tracing a path along your sweaty skin, inching upward until they reached your earlobe. “I don’t believe you fully comprehend the control I wield in this situation. No matter how many times you resist the pleasure, I will persist, possessing a stamina that mortals lack. If you happen to lose consciousness, rest assured that my presence will be etched into your being for all eternity. Every action you take, every thought you have, will bear the mark of my touch. Now, the single session we initially agreed upon is far from over—”

“Glorfindel,” you cried out, interrupting him as he loomed over your form, his lips still caressing your sensitive skin, indulging in delicate nibbles along the way.

Gazing up at you with seemingly innocent eyes, he sported a self-satisfied countenance. “Have you conceded?” he inquired, though it didn’t appear to matter much to him. “Nonetheless, our single session is far from finished, and as a warrior, I possess boundless stamina. A touch of promiscuousness wouldn’t hurt to demonstrate that elves excel in delivering pleasure beyond mortal capabilities.”

“You’re joking right?” you questioned overwhelmed.

“A matter of my honour and pride as an elf.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou

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lamemaster · 1 year

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Golden Flowers Welcome Me Home

(A little bit of trauma for beloved Glorfindel. I just wanted to post it here. This was originally part of another fic that I wrote.)

“Ata!” He pushed away the flowing curtains without a care in the world. “Atya,” he called again. The house was silent. With impatient steps, Laurefindelë made his way through the halls filled with the light of Laurelin.

His tiny hands carefully held a beautiful, albeit a little messy flower crown. He had been quite proud of his creation. He had snuck out of his room with the fading rays of Telperion and much to his surprise, he had made it without anyone noticing him.

He had hiked to the hidden valley, where his atar took him sometimes, there with the utmost patience that any self-respecting elfling could manage, he wove a crown of golden daffodils. Usually, he would be accompanied by his ata, who in his opinion, was the best at making flower crowns in the whole world.

“Ata,” impatience snuck into Laurefindelë’s voice as he peaked into another empty hall. Where could his ata be– of course! How did he not check the garden yet?

With a renewed fervor, he rushed towards the backyard of their home. His footsteps rang in the silent corridors. Distantly, he could hear the chirping birds. His ata had probably just fed them.

He pushed the heavy wooden doors open and momentarily scrunched shut his eyes as the light of Laurelin blinded his eyes.

“Aiya! hinya,” his atar’s comforting voice reached him. He opened his eyes as he felt a bop on his nose. And there, crouching in front of him was his atar. Handsome, kind, and the finest ellon in the entirety of Arda.

“Let us see what you’ve got there.” With a flourish, his atar picked him up in an embrace. Golden hair, similar to his own, formed a shining halo around his father’s face. Purple eyes that shined with the light of Aman looked back at him.

Without a word, Laurefindelë plopped the flower crown on his ata’s head. Suddenly feeling shy he tried to look away from his father. “Oh my! Yondo, I love your creation.” Chuckling at the timid elfling, the Vanya ellon adjusted the crown resting on his head.

“I’d say you have surpassed me Laurefindelë.” Placing a gentle kiss on his forehead Laurefindelë’s ata placed him on a nearby chair. “Now, my dearest you must be hungry. Let me g–e _

____________________

“Ata!” Glorfindel jolted awake. He was back in his unlit room. The brilliant light of the trees from his dream was gone. For only so long had the mercy of Irmo lasted. His ata… he had seen him. He felt the surge of a very familiar pain in his chest. His ata…

A gentle breeze from his window ruffled the papers on his desk. They were smudged, dark ink that once carried a well-thought strategy was now nothing more than illegible scribble. Glorfindel felt wetness on his face.

At once, hundreds of years seem to hold no value. He felt vulnerable like the elfling showing his first creation to his father. A yearning stronger than the freezing Helcaraxe seemed to clutch him. Home… home, home he craved it. The brightly lit halls, the garden full of sparrows and pigeons, golden daffodils. He wanted it so badly. Yet, he had lost every right to it.

-----------------------

“Ata! I do not want to be a normal ellon.” Once young elfling was now a full-grown ellon. His shoulders were broad with the settling youth. His eyes were grey, like that of Noldor, he got those from his mother.

Uncaring of his rising voice, Laurefindelë continued. “I do not want to live picking flowers from the valley, I do not want to spend my immortality singing praises of Manwe. I want to see the nether shores; I want to accompany my cousins to avenge grandfather.” The song of wrath clouded Laurefindelë’s mind. So, had been the case for all the Quendi who had listened to Feanor’s words.

“Yondo,” the Vanya noble, who had raised Laurefindelë with all the love a parent could summon, pleaded again. “Don’t go against the Valar yondo. Please listen to me.”

Ignoring his atar’s pleas Laurefindelë stepped back. “Even today you speak of them! Atar are you too unfeeling of our own people? Or are you like the rest of the Vanyar? I understand now, I understand my amil.” Muttering to himself Laurefindelë paid no mind to his atar’s shaking form.

“I would rather die fighting for my kin than cower in the hidden lands. I am no coward Atar, and I will prove my worth.” Unlike you had gone unsaid yet, the older ellon sensed it.

“Yondo…please.”

------------------------

His atar’s broken voice still rang in his mind. He had paid no heed to it back then. A thirst for glory, a yearning for knowledge led him away from the bright halls of his childhood.

Like the broken shards of a mirror, the estranged bond with his atar remained. Doom had been laid on him. He would never meet his ata again. His ata…his ata would spend eternity lamenting for a son who would never return.

Maybe, whatever Namo had done was right all along. After his actions and his words, Glorfindel feared he did not deserve the light anymore. Laurefindelë once had everything and whatever was left of him was Glorfindel. So, he would live and strive for that penance.

------------------------

“Glorfindel,” a quiet voice brought him back to the dark cell. For a moment he had forgotten about the woman next to him. Memories had clutched his fea fiercely that the world had stopped existing.

However, unaware of his inner turmoil, the woman continued speaking, “I don’t think your father can ever hate you.” Glorfindel flinched at the mention of his father from her.

The woman smiled slightly with a pleasant expression. “I have failed to clear the name of my people, I have lived a miserable life despite the sacrifices of my family, I don’t pray twice a day like the custom of my people, I don’t even remember my mother tongue anymore. Yet, every time I think of seeing my family again, I can’t imagine anything unpleasant.”

With a dreamy look in her wandering eyes, she continued, “I imagine my father running to pick me up like he always did, I can almost see my brothers chasing me to the mango tree, and I can almost feel my mother’s embrace.” If Glorfindel wasn’t aware of the edain’s sleeping habits he would’ve assumed she was dreaming.

“So, Lord of Golden Flower, from what I feel your father would not spend years wallowing in rage or humiliation. No parent would. I am sure he would leave everything to embrace his son as he had done for years. Maybe he’ll pick you up like a child.” She chuckled as she patted the back of the sobbing elf lord next to her. She was certain of it.

------------------------

Golden daffodils were in bloom again. The entire valley was full of them.

Amongst the swaying flowers sat two ellon. One laughed merrily as the other tried to weave wayward stems into a pattern.

#glorfindel #tolkien #tolkien elves #angst #middle earth #OCs #the silmarillion #comfort #laurefindil #Glorfindel's dad

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earthling55 · 2 years

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Drowning in Fears (Glorfindel)

You are a human, and even after years of being together, your fears and insecurities over your being a human and in a relationship with the legendary Glorfindel still surface as strong as ever.

Warnings: depression, some blood but nothing major.

Word count: 1k

Glorfindel frowned as he observed the crowd of dancers. You were missing...again. He could hardly believe you'd go out of your way to disregard his request a third time. He quickly turns, avoiding the scorching looks from elleths who still look to him with longing.

He walks the familiar path through Rivendell's garden. By now he knows where you'll be. And he's right. Up ahead, he can just make out your figure sitting on the swinging bench. Silently, he takes a seat next to you.

'What are you doing out here, Melda? Hmm.' He asks. His arm comes to rest over your shoulders protectively. You stare out into the distance, unanswering.

Glorfindel's brow creases with worry. This has happened before, the silence. The secluding yourself from society and the people who care for you.

But it has never lasted this long.

//////////////////

Two weeks later and nothing has changed. The worry has begun to get to Glorfindel. His hair doesn't shine as bright. The lightness he has always carried around him seems to dim.

Deciding that this has gone on too long, he seeks you out.

You're in your chambers. You've been sleeping a lot, but you still appear exhausted. Your hair has grown brittle and thin, your face is gaunt, and your under-eye bags seem to be permanently painted on.

It makes you feel even worse than before. You had convinced yourself you were at least average in looks - maybe even beautiful. But now? Now, you were horrendous. You avoided mirrors like the plague. Whenever you happened to catch your eyes in them, they would mock you. Bring any fear and insecurity you've ever had up to the surface. Now with air to breathe, they grew and festered, stronger than ever before.

If you couldn't even look at yourself, how could anyone else? How could Glorfindel?

You can't take it anymore. Bringing your fist up, you throw it with all your might against the floor length mirror.

It cracks, shattering into a million shards that stare up at you, pointing out all of your flaws. There's a shard for every fault, every failing, every insecurity you've ever had.

Tears blur your vision. The only voices you can hear are telling you to do something. To pick up each shard and crush them...and you listen.

The pain is shearing, all-consuming, filling every bone in your body.

Dark spots speckle your vision, and it takes everything in you time stumble over to the bed.

That's where you stay. You don't know for how long.

Your own body weight seems to weigh you down. You know you can breathe fine, yet you still feel like you might be drowning.

That's how Glorfindel finds you. Alone. A sobbing mess surrounded by blood. It speckles everything, leaving a trail from the shards of broken glass to the pristine sheets you're currently laying on.

He's quick to get Elrond. Thankfully, the cuts aren't deep, just everywhere. The tiny specs of glass puncturing almost every inch of your hands from where you crushed them.

Glorfindel himself spends hours helping the healers pick out every piece before bandaging your hands carefully.

/////////////////

It's dark when you finally wake.

Thinking you're alone, you sob out helplessly at the situation you've got yourself stuck in. Your hands are pleasantly numb, the cool balms lathering them work to help you avoid the reality of what you've done.

A shadow across from you frightens you into stifling your cries. Except it's not a shadow, it's Glorfindel.

You immediately shut up and turn the other way, scared to look at him, to see whatever his reaction is to your pathetic excuse of a self......

What's worse is that your Glorfindel knows how to keep a stoic face. But his eyes, his eyes betray him, and you're terrified of what you might see in them.

The tears still streaming down your cheeks, you're eyes search the wall in front of you wildly as you hear him rise and move to where you can see him.

He sits down on the bed, strong hand coming out to rub your shoulder comfortingly. It's a different kind of weight from the one still pushing down on your chest. It's comforting, rooting you like an anchor to the promise of a brighter future.

'Take your time,' Glorfindel starts out, his voice wavering slightly, a clear sign he's been crying. You turn slightly and can just about make out the tear stains marring his otherwise perfect cheeks.

'And when you are ready, I will be here. But right here, I'm not going anywhere and neither is my love for you.'

He lets out a long sigh. 'I didn't see how bad it was getting and for that, I will never forgive myself. I am sorry Melda.'

You attempt to sit up at that. It's not his fault. How could he think that it's his fault? Your precious Glorfindel, your literal ray of sunshine, crying? Because of you? You feel even worse at the thought and a new wave of tears careens over your eyes and down your cheeks.

It catches Glorfindel's attention, and he moves forward to dry them off with his thumbs.

'Melda,' he cries, and the pain in his voice only works to make you cry more.

'Talk to me, please. Tell me what's wrong. Let me be there for you. I long to be there for you.'

'You do?' You question out, voice barely above a whisper.

'But what...what about..?' A hiccup interrupts your though, and a watery chuckle blurts out of both of you at that.

'Why?' You finally manage to get out.

'Why do you care? Why do you bother yourself with me?'

‘Why would I care? You’re my wife. The love of my life, not to mention my best friend.’

He peppers your face with kisses, mumbling in between them.

‘How could you think I didn’t care?’

Well, that an unexpected dark turn. ...and if you can relate to how the reader's feeling, know that you're not alone. It's get better.

Also, I kind felt as if I could have ended it better. If you agree, let me know and I’ll see what I can come up with. By the way, if you want to send in requests, feel free! More inspiration is always great;)

#this is depressing #tolkien #elves #lotr elves #glorfindel #glorfindel x reader #rivendell #imladris #laurefindil #jrr tolkien #angst with a happy ending #healing

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