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doodle-pops · 5 months

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I Don’t Care

Argon x reader

Warnings: nothing at all

Words: 600

Synopsis: Argon learns the hard way not to mess with you.

Staring at Argon, his eyes wide with disbelief and filled with a potent mixture of betrayal and bewilderment, you stood your ground with an unyielding resolve. This situation had spiralled into an unexpected battleground, and it left both of you grappling with questions. Why were you attacking him, the person you cared for most? What had transpired to warrant this sudden culinary combat? The answer, though apparent, weighed heavily on the atmosphere—it was him, he was the root cause of it all.

Originally, your intention had been nothing more than a warm and inviting one. You had lovingly invited your cherished partner to join you in baking treats for the children at the music hall. These young performers had dedicated themselves tirelessly to preparing for their upcoming play, and you had wanted to surprise them with a delightful gesture of appreciation. But what had unfolded was far from a typical baking session.

The initial surprise came when, in response to your simple request for the cup of flour, Argon decided to take matters into his own hands and, quite literally, dump it over your head. Flour dusted your hair and clothes, and you were left stunned by his unexpected attack. In retaliation, you swiftly retaliated, flinging a handful of flour right back at him, marking the beginning of this flour-filled battle.

For ten frenzied minutes, the two of you engaged in an impromptu flour war, the kitchen becoming a chaotic battlefield. It all took a sudden turn when Argon, in the midst of the chaos, slipped on a patch of butter and found himself sprawled on the kitchen floor, his back against the cold tiles.

Now cornered and helpless, Argon’s wide eyes met yours with an expression of sincere remorse and a tinge of desperation. “Please don’t do this, I’m sorry!” he pleaded as you menacingly raised your hand, clutching an egg. His pitiful pleas only seemed to stoke your desire to continue this unconventional skirmish.

“H-how could you do this to m-me?” he stammered, casting you an imploring look with puppy-dog eyes. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his dramatic display. Argon always had a flair for theatrics.

“You brought this upon yourself,” you retorted, your voice laced with determination and a mischievous smirk.

“I’m sorry. I love you, and I won’t do it again,” he pleaded, his hands clasped together before him, desperation etched into every word.

But your resolve remained unshaken. “Not good enough,” you declared, your voice firm and unyielding.

Argon’s eyes widened further, his desperation reaching new heights. “But I said I love you!”

You leaned in, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as you brought the egg down with a swift, satisfying motion. “I don’t care.”

There was no time for Argon to react as the egg exploded against his head, splattering egg whites and yolk across his hair and face. With a triumphant twirl, you spun around, your hands plunging into the flour bag. You dumped it on his head, unleashing a cloud of white powder that settled like a gentle snowfall. Without missing a beat, you dashed to the other side of the kitchen, leaving Argon sitting on the floor, defeated and lamenting his fate.

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yourlocalnetizen · 2 years

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Rating Silm deaths

Miriel: 9/10 - Not a fun way to die but at least the child she died giving birth to was a special snowflake and not an average joe.

Finwe: 3/10 - Pretty lame if you ask me but gets points for trying to be a good dad.

Feanor: 11/10 - Spontaneously combusting sure sounds interesting. Athough it was stupid, I admire his bravery for fighting all those balrogs alone.

Elenwe: 6/10 - Poor thing. She was so brave going to middle earth with a bunch of crazy Noldor. The fanart of her death looks awesome though.

Argon: 7.5/10 - It’s said he killed an Orc Captain in the battle he was slain which seems pretty badass.

Fingolfin: 10/10 - Actually accomplished something by dying. Gets full points for his heroic sacrifice.

Angrod & Aegnor: 5/10 - I’m sorry my sweet summer children. You deserved so much better. Your deaths were unfortunately little more than footnotes though.

Aredhel: 7/10 - Took a Javelin to the shoulder to protect her son but I don’t see why she couldn’t have pulled both herself and her son out of the way.

Fingon: 8/10 - I cried like a b*tch when he died. His death sounded so painful, being held by a whip while being slaughtered by Gothmog.

Turgon: 2/10 - He got played like a fiddle by Maeglin.

Maeglin: 1/10 - Pfft. Lame. Imagine getting defeated and thrown off a wall by human with less than half your experience.

Glorfindel: 4/10 - Sorry dude. Your death wasn’t that cool. A million dudes guys died fighting balrogs and you weren’t the first to do it either.

Ecthelion: 15/10 - What a way to go out my guy. Imagine killing the dude who killed badasses like Fingon & Feanor. Wouldn’t have expected it from a happy little musician.

Finrod: 11/10 - Lmho. He went feral. Fighting a werewolf while naked and weaponless is sure something.

Celegorm: 1/10 - Turko, I love you but what a lame way to go out. A little baby half elf who might have been biologically full human completely owned you.

Caranthir & Curufin: ?/10 - We literally get no info on their deaths except that they died in a kinslaying.

Amrod & Amras: ?/10 - Same as Caranthir and Curufin.

Maedhros: 9/10 - I’m definitely not pro-suicide but his death just feels so right. Refusing to let go of the Silmaril despite the pain it’s causing him. A very fiery end for the hottest Feanorian.

Celebrimbor: 8.5/10 - It was brutal but it was far from boring.

Gil-Galad: 8/10 - I’d say it was pretty hot.

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sallysavestheday · 2 months

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Arakano (Jr.) Fans, Unite!

Argon is a secret fave of mine. Poor kid. Here he is on the Ice, reblogged for @march-of-the-noldor.

Argon wishes that he could use his paints. He wishes that they would not dry and crack from the ceaseless wind and the bitter, dessicating cold. He wishes that they would not blow away in a sharp gust if he did not hold them clenched between his knees or his teeth or his half-frozen fingers. He wishes that the wind would not force such tears from his eyes that he could not see to paint, anyway, if it were possible to stop, to take the ridiculous luxury of time to look, and think, and translate what he sees through the harmonic media of brush and canvas.

Because the sky is beautiful. When the clouds lift and the wind stops it is so deep, like a well falling upward, blue into black, all stars and stars and stars, unfamiliar in their dancing arrangements, but still the source of his people’s music, still their guiding lights.

Read the rest on AO3, in The Music of Sight.

#march of the noldor #fic rec #my fics #argon #arakano

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tilions · 1 year

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» and we danced, on the brink of an unknown future, to an echo from a vanished past - john wyndham

→ argon · arakáno nolofinwion

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melestasflight · 4 months

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Hi Melesta! Your holiday list is a lovely and generous idea✨️

In case you're up to it, I am very curious about you might do with the prompt 'love would lead me' + Lalwen & Argon! 😉💕

Holiday Silm Prompt fill for @searchingforserendipity25. Thanks for the prompt friend!

Lalwen doesn’t have the heart to quell Arakáno’s love for wild creatures. Things turn hectic when an eagle egg goes missing. (1,6k words of pure fluff 😄)

Posting the collection of stories on AO3 here.

love would lead me

Lalwen did not expect the matter with the eagle egg to become such a serious affair, certainly not something that prompted the involvement of the Valar. Although in truth, she should have known all along.

Arakáno already had a long reputation for providing shelter and friendship to any creature that seemed (to him) even slightly in need of comfort. At first, it had been the innocent thing of an elfling barely out of his cradle, when he would pick up fallen nestlings beneath the trees in Indis’ gardens and run carrying them in his small hands. Lalwen would receive the birdling gently from between his clumsy fingers, they would identify its species together before she would climb deep into the tree crowns to return it to its nest.

She could never resist the endless stream of questions that no one else had the patience to answer, never tired of Arakáno’s insatiable curiosity for the world surrounding him. Lalwendë, do fish have eyelids? Are bees just little tigers? Lalwen, do oliphaunts eat with their nose? Is wombat poo really square? Can eagles speak Quenya? Why does Manwë have wings sometimes?

Each question — a small window into the colorful landscape of a child’s wonder. More than anything, it was the twinkle in the sky blue of Arakáno’s eyes, a hue mirroring perfectly her own, that called to Lalwen’s heart. For though Arakáno was Nolofinwë and Anairë’s son, in everything else he was Lalwen’s own, a piece of herself that she readily gave away. With each answered question, each smile, and each shared secret, he grew to become Lalwen's best friend housed in the small body of her nephew.

So Lalwen had long accepted her own incapacity to deny Arakáno anything, and over the years, she allowed her home to turn into a small sanctuary for all sorts of beasts, big and small, lost by chance or on purpose. An impressive variety of bird species chirped above the edges of the windows, geckos as colorful as rainbows crawled up the walls, ocelots slept stretched in patches of tree light, raccoons raised their young in the cellars, and a colony of bats hung in the attic.

Sometimes, Lalwen almost felt like an intruder in her own house, a creature all too civilized for the micro-ecosystem that was developing inside. She let it all happen for Arakáno’s joy, for the bliss in his voice as he named every one of his friends: Linquendil the hummingbird, Kemmótar the mole, Vindusquë the wolf.

But when Nolofinwë finally stood at her doorstep, his usual calm smile jagged by something between shame and worry, she knew it had all gone too far. ‘You allow him too much, sister.’

‘Oh for the love of Eru, Nolo, Arakáno is still a child. Let him have fun while he can.’ Lalwen wasn’t ready to surrender.

‘He sequestered an eagle egg, Lalwen! Manwë himself has sent word to father requesting that the egg be returned.’

‘Don’t you think they are being a little too dramatic over this?’ Lalwen said with a chuckle as she imagined the King of the Noldor and the King of Arda corresponding over bird eggs. Nolofinwë followed suit, their chuckles turning into giggles as their minds met. ‘Ai very well, I will speak with him.’

When Lalwen knocked on the door of Arakáno’s attic room, a frustrated little warning came from within. ‘I haven’t changed my mind, Dad!’

‘Your father is downstairs, Arakáno. It’s me, let me in,’ she demanded as softly as she could.

Arakáno opened the door almost immediately, just barely to let Lalwen squeeze inside. ‘Come in quickly before Dad can hear him.’

‘Hear whom?’ Lalwen got her answer as soon as she asked. The shells of an egg were lying on the floor and a small, fragile pile of pink skin and soft down was resting folded in Arakáno’s shirt. He handed the nestling into Lalwen’s open palms. It was softer than anything she had ever touched. ‘When did it hatch?’

‘Not three days ago.’

‘Arno! You could have told me—’

‘I know, I know,’ Arakáno’s remorseful tone was a heart-wrenching thing. Then his words came out of his mouth in a rush. ‘I didn’t mean for it to hatch here. I was just curious and intended to return the egg after I sketched it in my notebook. But then it began cracking in my lap, everything was so fast I didn’t know what to do, and when I heard his cry I couldn’t let him go. He can barely see, I wasn't going to leave him alone.’

The eaglet was snuggling against Lalwen’s palm, eager for the warmth she provided. ‘I can see why you want to keep him. He is a darling,’ she said and heard Arakáno’s exhale of relief. ‘But you must return him to his nest at once.’

‘Can’t he stay just a little longer?’

‘If I say yes, love for you would lead me. There is nothing that I wish more than your joy, my dear. Yet I will have to say no for love of our small friend. Don’t make such a face, Arakáno, you know you cannot teach him all that a little eagle must know. How many eggs were in the nest?’

'Four,’ Arakáno confessed.

‘They will all hatch if they haven't already. Don’t you think he will begin feeling lonely without his siblings soon enough? Just like you miss your brothers and sister when they are away?’

‘But if he leaves I will feel lonely too!’ Her nephew was now on the verge of tears. ‘I know I am too young to be in Finno’s company all the time, even if he had the time to take me with him. Turno spends every waking moment with Findo, and they are honestly quite boring, reading their books and debating things I barely understand all day long, and Írissë is always away with her friends from Oromë’s hunt.’

There was the truth, at last.

Arakáno was the youngest among the wild bunch of Finwë’s grandchildren, and unlike his elder siblings, he did not have the luxury of growing up surrounded by his many cousins. As Fëanáro and Nolofinwë’s arguments acquired a sharper edge, Lalwen watched how a chasm was opening between their children too, ever-expanding, pushing them apart like a glacier between mountains. Her chest turned too small to contain her heart.

‘I know what it’s like to be much younger than your siblings, Arakáno, but trust me, soon enough the age difference will be all but invisible. Before you know it, you will grow tall and strong and spread your wings wide to go on many adventures, and I will be with you every step of the way.’ Lalwen offered the nestling back to Arakáno, and added gently, ‘We should let our friend do the same, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘You are right, Aunt, I will let him go back to his kind.’ A smile, even if a little wistful, was finally returning to her nephew’s face again.

Just as they readied to leave the house, nestling the eaglet into a pile of blankets, two redheaded elflings burst through the front door, quick as lightning.

‘The egg has hatched!’ Exclaimed Pityo, catching sight of the bird at once.

‘It has?’ Came from Nolofinwë, alarmed.

‘How can it be so ugly and adorable at the same time?’ Asked Telvo, ignoring his uncle’s question. ‘How old is it? Is it truly one of Manwë’s eagles?’

The inquiries came in a storm as the twins huddled around Arakáno to take a better look at the small bird in his arms.

‘What are you doing here, Ambarussa?’ Lalwen asked, realizing that Fëanáro’s youngest sons had never before come to her home.

‘We wanted to see the egg before it was returned, and begged Papa to bring us,’ Pityo answered.

‘Your father brought you here? Where is he?’

‘Right here,’ came from Fëanáro who appeared in the doorway. He crossed the room and his face turned somber as soon as he spotted Nolofinwë. ‘Good day sister, half-brother. I have brought the twins but I must warn you—’

‘Fëanáro, you—’ started Nolofinwë before Fëanáro was done speaking.

‘If you mention anything about your feud,’ Lalwen interrupted them both, raising a warning finger, ‘I swear to Eru, you will both be dealing with me. The children barely know each other because of your ridiculous quarrels!’ Her voice came in a whisper, sharp as a blade, making sure only her brothers could hear her.

Fëanáro looked taken aback, not expecting that kind of tone from his much younger sister. But he recovered quickly. ‘In fact, I was going to ask if they can stay here for the day. Nerdanel and I have our hands full and could use the break. I see they have already found good company.’

Even Fëanáro could feel overwhelmed. Lalwen had not thought it possible, but she was relieved to know it was so. ‘Of course they can stay, they are as dear to me as any of your children. But what were you going to warn me about?’

‘Oh, only that my youngest sons are wilder than Oromë’s creatures in the forests. We believed we had passed the test with Tyelko, how wrong we were!’

As Fëanáro spoke, Lalwen glanced past his shoulder to catch the blissful smile that stretched Arakáno’s lips as he was answering the twins’ questions.

‘I’m confident I will manage,’ she responded to Fëanáro and beckoned her brothers to join the children where the eaglet was being passed from one set of hands to another.

‘Have you named him already?’ Telvo asked.

‘Yes! His name is Sorontar,’ Arakáno announced proudly.

‘It is a good name! Pleased to meet you, little king.’ Pityo reached out a finger to scratch the soft head of the nestling and everyone broke into laughter as Sorontar squawked in response.

Lalwen felt something warm unravel in her chest.

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to drop me a note/kudo on AO3. It makes my day!

#lalwen #irime lalwen #argon #arakano #fingolfin #feanor #amrod #amras #thorondor #prompt fills #ficlets #Holiday Silm Prompt Fest #my writing #silmarillion #tolkien

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myceliumelium · 7 months

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yay for screwing around with my house of Fingolfin designs.

#fingolfinians #fingolfin #aredhel #fingon #Turgon #Arakano #silmarillion #art

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sexiestfinweanpoll · 11 months

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#silmarillion #sexyelfpolls #round 1 #maeglin #lomion #argon #arakano #Maeglin is on the left and Argon is on the right #two different artists but you can still see the family resemblance

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elficially-done-with-life · 1 month

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Forever Together

Pairing: Argon x Reader

Summary: You and Argon share a quiet moment together while travelling over the Helcaraxë.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You felt like your skin was on fire as Argon's warm hands stroked over your exposed skin. It seemed so long ago since you had last felt his warmth.

It had been a long time. You had set out on the ice several weeks ago, but you had rarely rested, and when you had, Fingolfin had assigned your husband some sort of task. Of course you understood that this was important for your survival, but you still felt cold and abandoned sometimes.

Argon seemed to notice that. While you continued to fight your way through the snow during the day, Argon, who always walked in front next to his father, fell further back to take your hand for a moment. His fingers clasped yours and the ice no longer seemed so cold to you.

After a while, Fingolfin had decided that you would have to take a longer rest, as all of you were getting slower and slower due to your exhaustion, making you even more vulnerable on the open road than you already were.

So you put up some tents to protect you from the cold and you tried to get some sleep.

When you fell asleep you were freezing, but when you woke up you could smell Argon's familiar scent and feel his hands gently rubbing every bit of skin they could find to keep you warm.

You kept your eyes closed for a moment. You had missed his gentle touch so much.

The warm days in Valinor when you had picnicked or gone swimming in the lake together seemed centuries ago.

"I know you are awake," he whispered and kissed you gently on the forehead. You could hear the smile in his voice. He pulled his hands away and let himself slide under the covers behind you.

You whimpered softly and snuggled back against Argon. "Please do not stop."

He laughed softly. "Do not worry, my love, I will prevent you from freezing to death." He wrapped his strong arms around you and turned you round so that the tips of your noses were touching.

His warm breath brushed over your face and drove away any feeling of cold. "Do not worry, Melda." Argon whispered and kissed you softly. His hands gently stroked down your body, from your cheeks to your hips, where he pulled you even tighter against him. "Tonight I am all yours."

He winked.

"Arakáno!Turukáno, Elenwë and Itarillë are right in the tent next to us. So we won't be doing anything like that." you said, but you had to smile.

When Argon saw your smile, he let out a pleasant sigh. One of his hands travelled back up to your face and gently stroked your lips to trace your smile.

Then he leant forward and kissed you again. At first his lips brushed only lightly over yours, but soon his kisses became firmer and more passionate. He pushed himself off the ground a little and carefully rolled onto you.

Your hands stroked through his hair and soon found their way to his cheeks.

You let out a surprised noise. "Arakáno?" You broke away from him. "Oh, why are you crying."

His cheeks were full of tears.

Argon's fingers gently stroked your cheek as he looked down at you.

"Because you are only here because of me. You deserve better than a tiny tent in the cold, wet snow. I am so sorry that I cannot give you more."

"Oh Arakáno." You gently took his face into your hands and began to brush away his tears with your thumbs. "Do not blame yourself."

"But it is true." His other hand found its way to your hair and stroked softly over it.

"Yes," you said softly, "I am here because of you. I am here because I love you anb because I cannot bear to live apart from you. I would make that decision again if it meant having you by my side. Because Valinor would be colder than the Helcaraxë without you, Arakáno."

He looked at you from his gentle eyes as more tears ran down his cheeks. "Thank you," Argon finally said, "Thank you for being by my side."

"Let us always stay together, no matter where we go," you said softly, wrapping your arms around him.

Argon lowered his head onto your chest, a position you don't normally lie in as he was so huge, while you gently stroked his hair.

"It will be all right, my dearest Arakáno."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#arakano x reader #argon x reader #arakáno #arakano #argon #tolkien x reader #x reader #elves x reader #tolkien #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #nolofinwëans x reader #nolofinwëans #silm x reader #silm fanfic #underrated elves of the silmarillion

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