#dark!thranduil x reader

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hello. Can you write Dark!Thranduil and a plus size female reader ? Please.

.⋆｡Auta Nissë｡⋆.

Dark!Thranduil x human!plus size reader

She was unique, she was beautiful, she was soft and by the gods, she would be his

Warnings: DARK FIC, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsession, mentions of death, magic, manipulation, no use of y/n, drugging

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Title means kept woman

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was certainly curious, a woman among the group of dwarves his guards had brought him- and a human woman at that. She stood out from the group like a sore thumb, yet she fit in with them all the same. They crowded around her legs as if to shield her from his gaze, to protect her from whatever he had in store for the trespassers.

“How fascinating, a woman in your midst. Tell me, king under the mountain, is she your bed warmer or just a lost creature you took pity on?” He sat forward on his throne of knotted wood, his crystal blue eyes focused on her, taking in every inch of her face. She showed no fear, nor any offence to his crudeness. The king smirked, she would do well.

The dwarves around her exploded, each attempting to insult him in not only the common tongue but in their native language as well. He paid them no mind, letting his gaze drift down to her body. She was at least modest, a large white shirt and dark trousers hid her away, disguising her curves quite well but he could still see the bulge of her hips and the softness of her stomach.

She was unlike any woman he had encountered before. Her eyes held the fire of a warrior, her hands were as stable as a healer’s, and the protective stance of a mother. “Take them away, but leave the girl. I believe she will tell us what we wish to know.” He spoke over their shoats, ignoring the way that they all reached for her as if their pathetic efforts could somehow save her.

Her fingers curled into her palm but otherwise gave him no reaction to suddenly being isolated. Gracefully, he stood to his full height, easily towering over the woman, casting a dark shadow over her as he approached. “Why do you travel with such… filth?” He crooned.

“I was hired to do so.” She answered simply, her voice strong. It carried through the throne room like a lone instrument in a concert hall and settled into his bones, marking them with the melodic tones of her words. A fire began to grow in his loins.

He took a step closer, she did not flinch. “I could offer you a place here, in my court. Certainly your skills and your beauty would be of more value here than on some fruitless journey that will only end in death.” As he drew closer, more of her perfect imperfections became clearer- her moles and birthmarks, scars and blemishes, but to him, they were simply an extra detail in the statuesque flawlessness of her figure.

“If it ends in death, then that will be how I die.” She retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze once more as he was now only arm’s distance away. “I am human, death is not unknown to us.”

The side of Thranduil’s face burned with rage, reminding him of what he had lost to death all those many years ago. But that defiance, that drive so similar to that of his late wife, soothed the burn. “There are ways to cheat death, even for a human. But for now, it is my wish that you remain here until I decide how your quest shall continue.” With a flick of his slender wrist, he summoned two more guards.

They stood either side of her and began to lead her away. “You cannot stop fate, your highness.” She called, making him pause. The doors slammed closed behind her, leaving the great elven king to his thoughts.

——————

“I’m glad you joined me for dinner tonight.” He remarks while knowing that she had no choice. The Battle of The Five Armies had concluded months ago, Erebore was free and peace had finally settled over the land, yet Thranduil was still in the midst of his own war.

She refused his love. Isolating herself in the rooms he had so graciously given her, throwing away the luxurious food prepared fresh each day, even attempting to enact various escape attempts, but that had slowed significantly when she was moved to his own chambers and could be restrained each night in his arms.

Her silence irked him but he allowed it. “I wish that you would gain back some weight before the wedding.” She glared in response, merely sipping at her wine with her one free hand, the other bound to the ornate seat she was forced into. 

He sighed through his nose, hiding a smirk behind his own goblet. Her eyes fluttered shut as she drank the expensive liquor, savouring the sweet taste, unknowing that it was not the wine itself that gave the dark liquid its flavour. 

“Meletril.” (lover) He tuts, rising from his own chair to round the table. “Your hair is a mess. Let me fix it for you.” She was stiff as his slender fingers began to pick at her hair, delicately moving large strands into several braids. He worked quickly, the patterns and movements now an unconscious practice even if he had not practised in almost 1000 years.

“There, now I can properly see your pretty face.” His right hand cupped her full cheek, guiding her face upwards to him. Her eyes were now glassy, the potion he had snuck into her drink beginning to affect her, but her fire was still there, just existing as an ember now.

“This will not last, I will perish sooner or later and you will be left alone again.” She hissed, the bite in her tone significantly dulled. Yet Thranduil smiled and brushed her soft skin with his thumb before retreating back to his seat.

“Thorin sends his well-wishes, he is very excited about the wedding. And your little friend, what was his name, oh right! Bilbo, he will be journeying from the Shire with his nephew to attend.” Her nostrils flared with rage.

“Just kill me already! I am of no use to you other than a pet!” She cried, though her voice was beginning to slur as the magic took hold of her. 

The elven king slammed his hand on the table, immediately silencing her. “Enough! I have had enough of your silly rebellions and cruel words. You will be my wife simply because I love you. So no more silly speak of you being a pet, you are my equal, my queen but you obviously need to be reminded of your place. You are to never leave my side, death will not take you, I have made sure of that. Now eat.” Her eyes were now wide with panic, the truth finally settling in.

“What have you done?” Her skin began to glow as the transformation began. The king watched as all the indicators of her age were wiped away, the smile lines, the bags beneath her eyes, even scarring from the blemishes of puberty. She was ethereal, eternal now, just like him.

“I have changed your fate.”

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[thran-duils]

Seduce & Destroy (P. 10)

Title: Seduce & Destroy (Part Ten) Summary: A mother is desperate to save her daughter from being married off to the Master of the Town or worse, sold to the brothel for her father to be able to afford drink and rent when he is failing at bringing in money for the household. The mother finds a witch deep in the ancient woods willing to take a sharp cost to bestow safety on the daughter. If it truly ends up as safety… that is yet to be seen. Pairing: Dark!Thranduil x Fem!Human Reader Words: 2,121 Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, magical manipulation, mental abuse

Part Nine || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Thranduil did not apologize the next morning for his behavior. He instead ordered you to leave the chambers and occupy yourself while he nursed his hangover. You dined alone at breakfast and then lunch. You only saw him at dinner, and he still looked worse for wear – as did the rest of his court. You seemed to be the only one in the inner circle not suffering from a massive headache.

He grew tired quickly and barely touched his food. And although you were not done eating quite yet, he ordered you to come with him when he was ready to retire. The rabbit on your plate was left and you knew you would feel the pangs of hunger before the morning sun came bringing breakfast.

Thranduil finally slept and you were unable to – it was too early still.

Quietly, you slipped from the bed and made to the door to his chambers, your robes wrapped around you tightly. You were hungry and had become so far sooner than you expected.

Two of the guards at the door fell in line behind you when you walked past – they were almost like a shadow now. You knew the kitchens were further into the kingdom and you also knew that you did not know the way.

Stopping on the stairs, you turned back to the guard, who were standing at attention.

“I… where are the kitchens?”

“If it is food you desire, you should have just told us and we would have asked one of your handmaidens to fetch you a plate,” one of the guards stated. “You can return to the King’s chamber, my lady.”

Having to sit in silence to not wake Thranduil while you waited to dine alone sounded miserable.

You stated, “I would like to accompany them so I can choose what I would like.”

Bolder than you would have been when you first came here. Feeling entitled to choose what it was you ate from their stores.

The other guard spoke now, “That would not be wise. The King will be irate if he finds his chamber empty of you.”

You knew that voice.

Ciardan.

You had not seen him since you had tried to escape the kingdom. But had he been there the whole time, only now with a helmet, faceless? Stationed to a guard to simply watch outside the King’s chambers instead of being free without the helmet?

You owed him at least to not cause him further trouble on your behalf.

Nodding stiffly, you agreed, “Yes, you are right. Please take me back. I’ll trust the handmaidens know what to bring.”

<><><>

The pieces of vine twisted, weaving around each other beneath your hand. A bead of sweat formed at your brow at the energy you were focusing into making the bark expand its root. Expanded outside of the ground, Hebe had promised the tree would not die with the amount exposed to the air. And it was an easy first attempt to try to breath life into the ground this way.

Your eyes followed the root as it stretched further from the base of the parental base. Your hand shook slightly, trying to keep your magic you were harnessing focused.

Then an unexpected darker vine grew from the braid. It was eager to find its way into the braid and you had to raise your other hand to focus and gather its momentum. Using both hands, you coaxed the new into the old to form as one. It was an array of shades of brown and they complimented the other.

A fresh root!

Containing your excitement, you guided the foundling root with the older and drove them both to the soil again. Placing your hand on the ground, you felt it settle and within yourself, you felt peace.

You were beaming as you stared at the spot where you had conjured the beginnings of a weave. But then… emptiness. Your brow furrowed, staring down at the ground. You still felt the root but the life you had felt spark had dwindled. Turning your head, you caught gaze with Hebe.

She looked amused at your response. “That was a good sign.”

“Truly though?”

“You can’t expect to gain everything all at once. A fresh root being conjured is something to be celebrated… even if you felt it didn’t survive beneath the surface without your direct influence.”

So, she had felt it as well? Of course she had, you thought, thinking yourself foolish to think otherwise.

“It’s been so long though,” you commented, feeling the excitement beginning to wane. Doubt was creeping in.

And Hebe knew it too.

“Now don’t discourage yourself. You’ll put yourself in a bad head space.”

“It is hard not to.”

“The only one putting that pressure on you is yourself,” she stated. “I’m certainly not doing it. I would rather you learn properly than sloppily. And most of the time properly means time. You’ve shown talent for the simpler spells. I doubt that you will not do well as we continue to dive in deeper. Would you like to try again?”

“With the same root? Won’t that cause a problem?”

You and Hebe were deep into the cavern – deeper than you had traveled into Mirkwood. You wondered if Thranduil knew exactly where you were. He did not like you to venture too far because far meant more opportunities for exits. Hebe had insisted on this spot because she had been scouting out exposed roots and this one was the healthiest she had discovered. She had little regard for Thranduil’s paranoia.

Hebe chortled, “You worry for the sake of the kingdom? Y/N… this whole kingdom is built on nature. You are not killing it by doing this, I assure you. You may have felt the spark of the new root die because it went too far for you to sense it just yet. But I did not. It is still thriving. And it will continue to thrive.”

The spot where the roots had disappeared caught your attention because they shook slightly. And the youngest root swelled every so slightly in size.

“See?”

When you looked back at Hebe, she smiled softly. “If it had died, it would wither and grow limp when the spell touched it again. It doesn’t matter which person uses the spell, it’s only the strength of the spell itself that matters. I used it myself to test and the root is strong. You did well.”

Her confidence spilled towards you and your shoulders relaxed.

“Dealing with living, breathing matter is different than material without life force. You mastered weaving twine, and you did quite well for your first attempt with life force. If you would like to try with another vine, then that is fine.”

“That one seems like it will do well enough.”

“It will.”

Hebe walked off towards another exposed root and you followed her. You raised your hand, taking a deep breath. But she stilled your movement by turning towards you and you faltered at the look in her eyes. She looked a mixture of determination and contemplation.

“Y/N… Thranduil’s kingdom thrives on nature. If you can learn to mend and control it, you will be indispensable. You must trust me when I tell you that you are doing well and not doubt yourself. Do you promise me?”

She looked almost… desperate for you to agree.

You slowly nodded and she exhaled sharp the breath she had been holding in. “Good… good. Resume.”

<><><>

The sun shined down through the treetops at the spot where Thranduil had had servants set up a spot for the two of you to dine mid-day. The tree line provided safety from the direct sunlight and kept you cool enough. You had yet to venture to the top of the kingdom and Thranduil had his own secluded spot set aside for himself. To your back, there was rock but before, there was a still pond filled with a glistening waterfall and beyond that a straight line of sight over the tops of lower trees. It was a breath of fresh air to be fully above ground.

You picked up a piece of cheese, savoring the salty taste in your mouth.

Thranduil was reclined back on pillows against the rock, comfortable in his sitting position. Beneath you, there were many plush blankets to provide padding against the ground.

You wanted to try out Sindarin, surprise him. Ask him for something to show him what you had been learning. You had been too nervous up to this point outside of your lessons with Hebe and you had specifically been practicing asking for wine. It was something he enjoyed and was important to Elven culture.

Thranduil was almost done with his own glass and was going to serve himself. Best now than ever.

“Lothron im gar-i miruvor?” you asked in a steady voice, eyes trained on him.

Thranduil paused in his movement, his eyes sliding to you. You remained still, sitting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It grew more difficult though the longer he refused to say anything.

Finally, he corrected, “Miruvor.” Your shoulders slumped slightly realizing you had said it incorrectly and that he felt the need to point it out. Thranduil noticed. “Do not slump. Sindarin is a rich language, and it is unnatural for human tongues. You will struggle but you are improving. I will be able to understand you regardless of the accent. If you ever master it or not, I mean. It is unlikely but I have been surprised before.”

He held the wine casket out towards you and poured you a glass.

“You are upset,” he commented, not looking at you.

“No, I’m not,” you replied, picking up the glass.

“You know I despise dishonesty.” You decided to say nothing, and he continued, “I did not intend to offend you, merely point out something that can be easily corrected with practice.”

You refrained from saying that that was not what had offended you. He clearly saw no fault  in insinuating you were too daft as a human to ever speak his language.

Instead, you feigned diplomacy, “I’ll remember to take direction with less pride in the future.”

Thranduil hummed in approval as he retracted his hand. You watched his hands, his long fingers reaching to grasp a lemon tart. He caught sight of your watchful eyes and reached to stroke your cheek with his free hand.

“You have come a way, lòth,” he told you. “You would have stayed silent and simmered in your mood before. I applaud you for the growth and displayed maturity.”

His thumb ran across your lips before his hand fell. You could see he was thinking of something as he stared at you. He did not share though, he only made a sound of contentment before bringing the tart to his lips to take a bite, his gaze moving towards the water.

<><><>

The door to Thranduil’s chambers opened and you lowered your book, peering over the top as you waited for the interruption show itself.

A line of servants carrying large trunks in pairs came in – five large trunks. A single servant at the rear was holding a bundle and they waited patiently while the others placed the trunks down, opening the lids. Your book was placed to the side as you sat up in the chaise, curiosity getting the better of you.

The elf holding the bundle threw a glance your way and mentioned, “My lady, you should try this on before we choose which trunk outerwear will be placed in.”

“Try what on?”

They were already unfolding the bundle, coming towards you. “The seamstress crafted you a riding cloak.”

“For?”

“The King requested to speak with you himself once they are back from the hunt.”

You hated waiting for answers but stood as you imagined their arms would tire of holding the cloak up for you sooner rather than later. You slipped into it, the servant working to tie it at your neck. It was heavy with a hood and a rich green. The servant stepped back and clasped their hands in front of you.

“It is not too heavy? Comfortable? It looks to be the right length.”

Your mind was swirling with why on Earth they would bring you a riding cloak but deep down you knew the only reason. You were going to be traveling. For what, you did not yet know.

The cloak was heavy but it would be something you would gladly don if it meant leaving the kingdom for the first time in a couple of years.

Shaking your head, you said with a straight face, “Yes, it is perfect.”

~~~

Fic tags: @juniperwoodwell​ @buttercandy16​ @tigereyesf​ @asuni921​ @coopsgirl​ @mjaudrey​ @miriel-estelwen​  @my-blood-is-maple-syrup​ @betty-not-boop​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @darkmystress00​

#thranduil x reader #dark!thranduil #dark!thranduil x reader #dark thranduil #my shit

[floatyflowers]

Helaurrr I'm thinking of a young reader getting their period for the first time any character will do like sibling/parents yk 🥹

Dark Platonic! John Wick, Hannibal Lecter, and Thranduil x Reader

Father! Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal almost had a stroke when he saw trails of blood on the floor, after waking up.

Thinking that someone might have broken into the house and killed you, his 10-year-old daughter, he quickly rushes to where the blood trails lead him to.

Only to find you in the kitchen, in front of the open fridge, eating your favourite snack as if there's no blood between your legs.

Realizing what is happening, he makes you have a bath, and change into new clothes after teaching you how to use a pad.

Hannibal made sure to explain what was going on in a simple way.

But, you only pout.

"Does it have to come every month? Why not every ten years?"

Father! John Wick

When your period arrived, you already knew what you were going to do.

But that doesn't mean John would not coddle you, and make sure you have everything you need.

Especially since his wife's death, he had to be the mother and father for you.

You are the last thing left of his wife, so he will do anything in his power to make sure you are always safe and happy.

He would kill for you, and also kill anyone who would try to steal you from him.

John would make sure to buy the most expensive painkillers and sanitary pads because he is against you using tampons.

Also, the painkillers might be the same ones he uses after treating his bleeding wounds.

Grandfather! Thranduil

Elf women get their period at a much older age then humans, and their period comes every three months.

Meanwhile, you are half-elven, so you got your period around the same age as human girl would.

So, the Mirkwood king got confused when he saw you, his cheerful granddaughter, having bad mood swings.

Directed at him.

Thranduil also got angry, when you were good with servants.

He felt like it should be the opposite, he should be the center of your attention.

So, he locked you up until your period is over.

Let's just say when Legolas got back from his mission, he got into a huge fight with his father.

#tw: toxic relationships #platonic yandere #reader insert #daughter reader #dark #possessive #john wick x reader #thranduil x reader #yandere hannibal

[gulnarsultan]

🍃Imagine.🍃

Thranduil is determined to take you to Mirkwood.

#the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #yandere hobbit #yandere lotr #thranduil imagine #yandere thranduil #thranduil x reader #dark thranduil

[creepychan08]

Yandere Thranduil x Reader

It wasn't supposed to end up like this. You heart's desire becoming a nightmare.

And now there's no way home.

"Thranduil, you can't keep me here. Sooner or later I must return home." You once again plead your case as Thranduil frowned and hold both your hands protectively. But lately it feels like his gentle touches were slowly turning like handcuffs chaining you to him, unable to escape his grasp.

"Meleth nin (My love) please, this is your home. Have I not treated you well? Tell me what more can I do to make you stay by my side?" 

His grip tightened, not in a hurtful way, but just enough to prove his desperation for your continued presence in his kingdom.

"Its not that at all. You have been truly kind to me and for that I am eternally grateful. But I have my family waiting for me. I miss them Thranduil. Terribly." Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and his gaze softened, drawing you closer in an embrace. You welcomed the comfort he provided and lean your head almost close to his chest, the part you can only reach due to your unfortunate stature.

"Have you found some other way to return to your world?"

"How could I when you took away that book and refused to let me out of your kingdom?" The bitter tone of your voice breaks the moment of tranquility when you remembered it was him who didn't allow you to leave and travel to Rivendell to seek help from Gandalf.

Though your tone was bitter, you felt him relaxed more against your embrace as if relieved.

"You know there are threats coming from the orcs resurfacing in the forest. I can't very well allow my beloved to travel and place yourself in harm's way. No, you will stay here with me." His fingers slowly brush down your hair as you feel your anger boil inside.

"I will not allow you to keep me in here like a trophy! No more! I will go out and discover the way back- back to my real home- if you won't help me." 

Thranduil grit his teeth in frustration as he roughly tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes fierce and burning as it stare straight to your soul and your composure faltered, realizing how large he is compared to you and the power he has to crush you any time.

"I will say it again. You won't leave my side forever. You are mine as I am yours."

A whimper unconsciously left your lips as you began to fear and tremble before him. The dominance he was radiating made you feel weak, unable to do anything but submit to his will.

Upon hearing that helpless sound, his seething expression was immediately wiped off, dark glint in his eyes returning to a soft crystal blue filled with worry and regret when he behold the terror he accidentally inflicted on his beloved.

"My starlight, I am so sorry. Please forgive this ignorant King from his careless actions. I did not mean to make you afraid of me. That was the last thing I ever wanted." The sorrow in his voice made you want to reach out and comfort him.

You remembered how it all started. 

*Flashback*

Being a fan of The Hobbit trilogy movie, you were immediately captivated by the ElvenKing, Thranduil. The daily occurence in your life involves imagining random scenarios and plots with him and deeply wishing to somehow be transported in Middle Earth to meet him. And one day it did come true.

You have no idea of your last memory of how you came to this new world. Whether you were killed by a truck driver and get isekai'd, or if you were just dreaming or worse case in a coma, you have no idea how you are actually faring in the real world. But there was a portal which immediately closed as soon as your feet step into the grounds of the forest of Mirkwood.

Obviously you were taken by the patrolling group of elves and presented to Thranduil. It was not love at sight as you were already crushing on him way back on Earth but it sure did made your heart jumped with excitement as you eagerly and honestly answered each one of his questions.

You were detained in the dungeons for some time as the ElvenKing pondered on your statement to see if you were just lying to get yourself out of this mess. Perhaps it is dark magic then to how you were transported to this world? Are you a threat? But somewhere deep down in his cold heart, he could feel the sincerity radiating off you. And there was something else too- something foreign but pleasant that he felt when he first talked with you.

After careful consideration, Thranduil finally released you from prison and transferred you to a well-furnished room. He was still unsure of what to do with you. Strangely enough, the thought of assigning you to be a servant, a maid, cook, or a warrior didn't sit well with him so he decided to treat you as a guest and get to know you better.

As he did, he finds himself slowly falling for you. Unlike the other elleths (women elves), you possess kindness and genuine concern for other people. You interacted with his guards and other servants with much respect and he saw them slowly warming up to you. Everyday, he would look forward to seeing you first thing in the morning as your smile immediately brightens his day. And during the evening after he finish his work early, he would asks you to walk with him in the gardens.

It was no surprise when he ends up falling head over heels in love. He started properly courting you and sending expensive gifts everyday.

"You know you don't have to send me all these stuff, Thranduil. Its too expensive"

"Nonsense. I am the King and I can give you everything you deserve and more. Unless.. do you not like them? I can have another jewel be made to fit your taste-"

"No! No need, I really like this one. Thank you, Thranduil" You smiled at him gratefully and the corner of his lips lifted up as he stare at you.

"Anything for you, my starlight" He draws his arms open and gently pulled you to his embrace, his robe covering your form as you lean you head on his chest.

You wished those moments would have lasted more.

Thranduil was a gentle lover. Always kind. Always patient. Always caring towards you. He never once raised his voice at you and you greatly appreciated it. But as the days go by, you noticed him getting more possessive and obsessive over you.

"We were just talking! He is your guard long before I came here and he is just my friend" You defended yourself as Thranduil warned you against talking to one of his royal guards.

"I do not like the way he looks at you, meleth nin. You are mine, don't forget that. He should know his place."

"Everyone knows we are together so stop being suspicious of other elves! I am not fond of the way you're acting right now. I will leave you to cool your head first."

As you turn to leave, his arms reach out to wrap around your waist as he hug you from behind. His head bowed low so as to breath in the scent of your hair to calm him down.

"No, don't leave please. I am sorry, my love. I am just afraid of losing you."

You sighed, feeling your heart soften. You turn to face him again and saw the insecurities and doubt swirling in his eyes.

"Now what brought my King such worries? Haven't I told you I only have eyes for you? That my heart beats only for you?" You cup his cheek as he closed his eyes and lean towards your touch.

"I know and I believe you. Sometimes, I just can't help but fear that you'll find someone better than me. I can't live without you, YN"

"You'll always have me Thranduil. My heart belongs only to you." You reassured, hugging him tightly to show your devotion.

Maybe you shouldn't have promised that as months passed and you soon discover a way to open the portal again back to your real world while browsing the library. But you don't understand some of the text written as it was in Elvish language and from what you can read, it also needs the spells only casted by wizards.

"Thranduil, I finally found a way to return back to my world!" You excitedly said as you barge to his throne room, while carrying the book.

His eyes widened and he immediately walked down the stairs of his throne towards you.

"What did you say, my love?" The cutting edge of his tone failed to make its way to your ears as you were excitedly thinking of how soon you can probably go home once this works.

"I said I found a way to open the portal again to my world! But I need some help with the Elvish language and Gandalf as well to complete the steps here." You showed him the book and the pages where it was located.

He was quiet for a while and politely asked for the book. As you gave it to him, he immediately throws it to the ground and asked his servant to seal it in the forbidden section of the library.

"No! Why did you do that?!" You screamed, feeling betrayed by his action. You tried to get back the book but he tightly hold you against him before carrying you towards his bedroom as you continue to resist.

Once he locked the door, he put you down on his bed as you glare at him.

"How could you do that? That was my only way home!"

 His eyes hardened, frown marring his features.

"Exactly. I won't have you leaving me alone here, YN. You promised that I'll always have you, didn't you? And I promised to be yours forever"

You frozed as you remember the promise you said to him months ago. You meant it. You did. But that was before you learned that there is still a way back to your real world after giving up for so long. However, you did promised him and you can't go back on your word.

Bowing your head in shame, you nodded. "Yes, I did. I remember my oath that day, Thranduil." A feeling of frustration and mixed feelings made its way to your heart.

"You know I love you. I do. I just miss my family so much. I wonder what they are doing in my world. I wonder if they are grieving over me or still patiently hoping for my return. Am I selfish, my love?" You looked up at him as tears stream down your cheeks.

Thranduil felt his heart clench as he saw your sorrow. He can't stand to see the anguish in your eyes as it overflows with your tears. He gathered you in his arms and let you cry against his shoulders.

"I'm here, meleth nin. I'm here. Please don't cry." He whispered comforting words and before long, you felt drowsy and fall asleep in his hold.

Thranduil carefully put you in the bed and covered you with blanket. He placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room.

From that day on, he decreed an order that you are not allowed to leave his kingdom and that anyone who try to help you escape will be executed.

*End of Flashback*

"You've changed Thranduil" You gaze at him with such disappointment that he falters for a moment.

"No, please don't say that meleth nin. Don't look at me like that. I love you. I can't let you out of my grasp. I can't let you go. Ever." He pulled you closer and tilted your chin so you were looking straight at him.

The sight made you tremble. His eyes which were once full of adoration and pure love for you were now filled with dark obsession.

"Resist me no more, my starlight. Stay here. I will take care of you. I will love and worship you forever." 

He back you slowly into the bed and you didn't notice until you trip and lay sprawled against his bedsheets in a vulnerable state.

You tried to get up but he lightly pushed you down so he towers over you.

"No, no, I have to return home. I need to see my family again. I can still come back here Thranduil. I won't leave you forever." You tried to reassure your lover.

Shadows loomed in his face and when he finally look at you, something dark and dangerous radiated from his being.

You gasped, crawling away from him towards the center of the bed as he followed after you. You grab his pillow to defend yourself.

"Okay- stop. Don't get any closer, Thranduil. You're scaring me."

The blank look in his eyes shifted to that of a predator finally catching its prey as he reach you. A smile of dark insanity painted on his lips. He take hold of the pillow separating you two and throws it to the side.

"You know, I've always wanted to marry you, my starlight. In our culture there are two ways one can get married. First is by traditional exchange of vows and the other-" He paused, pushing you down once more as he hovered above you. "-is by being one in body, two souls bonded forever. If I may be honest, I much prefer the latter."

His fingers slowly slid down your body, touch as light as feather as it passes through your neck, the valley of your breast, down to your stomach and settling on your lower abdomen.

Your breath hitched as you watch him, goosebumps rising on you skin as you feel your heart thumping loudly.

"We will be one tonight, my love. And I will plant my seed inside your fertile womb. Since you miss your family so much, we will have one of our own- a much bigger family. We will have a dozen or more elflings running around the kingdom. And you will soon forget that silly ambition in your mind. I told you before. You won't leave me. Ever. For you are mine and I am yours."

With that he sealed his promise with a passionate kiss as he consume your being, leaving you breathless and gasping for more.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I didn't expect this oneshot to be longer than what I originally planned lol. Anyway, I've been obsessing over Thranduil for weeks now and I thought if he'd be the one going yandere for me, I would immediately give in 😂

But yeah unfortunately he's just a fictional character sooo! Anyway thanks for reading up this far.

Hope you have a great day and stay safe guys! :)))

#yandere thranduil x reader #yandere thranduil #thranduil #the hobbit #lord of the rings #yandere x reader #reader insert #yandere elf x reader #yandere elf king x reader #obsessive #obsession #possessive thranduil #dark thranduil #modern reader #isekai #yandere elf #yandere the hobbit #imagines #dark imagines #thranduil oropherion #obsessed thranduil #tolkien #fantasy #dark fantasy romance #x reader inserts

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hello,if of course you wanted and if it was your will, could you write something about Thranduil. About how once, while returning to his Kingdom, he came across a slave trade where he saw an elven woman who was scared and emaciated. Thranduil is moved by this and buys her out, then takes her to the palace, though she is distrustful, appreciates him helping her, and over time I fall in love with him. You don't have to agree with this, but it may have been after Thranduil became King, but also before his son was born. Of course, if you want to write about it, and that would be your will...

Hello! I wrote this event taking place just after the sinking of Beleriand, with Oropher ruling Greenwood the Great and sections of Middle Earth being a bit of a dumpster fire after the War of Wrath. I hope you don’t mind the change. This is part one. Part two should be out in a fortnight, or just after that, and from Thranduil’s POV.

“A Better Future” Part 1

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Elf/Noldor |Third Person POV)

Themes: Angst | Dark

Warnings: Death | Indentured servitude | Indenture Auction | Mentions of slavery | Mentions of sexual slavery | Mistreatment | Examination for purity

Wordcount : 2.3K words

Summary: An elf of the Noldor finds herself on the auction block, facing a dreary future.

A/n: For Lady Githa I drew inspiration from Six of Crows’ Tante Heleen. Most of part one is around reader's backstory, and there is only some dialog towards the end.

Minors DNI

Y/Ns POV

Y/n was still drowsy when she opened her eyes. She had seen herself with her father, listening to him play the harp and sing while her mother sewed away by the fire. There were hot pies and fresh fruit and cheese to nibble on, and her father would leave the harp to indulge in her thirst for tales of the Blessed Realm. Home was safe and warm, and everyone was alive.

Such a beautiful dream. And a dream it would forever be. Y/n threw back the rags that served as coverlets and sat up straight on the pallet that served as a featherbed. Her back ached after a night of fitful sleep. She glanced around the near-empty chamber, which was barely large enough for her. There were no possessions here, and she was not allowed any. Oh, she had been promised new garments, a hot meal, and a bath for this day, but she knew such gifts came with a heavy price. She had moved among the Edain long enough to learn this harsh truth. Y/n looked at the stone ceiling and sighed mournfully. Her fate will be decided today.

My fate was decided a long time ago, in another life, she thought bitterly. Her father had followed the sons of Fëanor and played a part in the second Kinslaying. All that returned of him was news of his disgrace and death, his role in the slaughter, and how he doomed his bloodline along with himself. As for her mother? She no longer wished to live. She followed the path of Miriel before her, lying down in a meadow and letting her fëa peacefully depart from her body. That was how y/n found her—a vessel from which the jewel had spilled. Alone and without friends, she performed the final rights for her mother before departing for safer pastures. Someone was bound to take pity on her and give her shelter; she was certain of it.

That was not to be. Door after door closed to her as soon as she made her name and ties known. Elves did not wish to sully themselves by associating with one bearing the blood of a kinslayer. The Edain did not want to offend wealthy elven patrons. Y/n had been forced to wander further and further east, year after year, alone and frightened, keeping to the outer borders of kingdoms and selling off her family’s possessions one by one in exchange for coin so she could have clothes and food. She watched in horror while smoke rose from distant battlefields, praying the fighting would never reach her. She trembled when she heard strange and terrifying roars. She listened to the songs about how the Valar finally sent their host to deal with a most wretched enemy, how the lands she once ran across as a child had been claimed by the sea. The grief of such a loss—of her home and her family—was so great that it caused her pain powerful enough to nearly cripple her. She bore it all silently. She had no choice, and she did not have a single creature to confide in. Finally, a mortal took pity on her, or so she thought. He offered her a roof over her head and a better future; all she needed to do was agree to his terms.  

Y/n snorted in derision. A better future. If only she had listened to the voice within her, demanding that she refuse. This man would play her false, it said, and place her in a condition with no hope for escape. But y/n was desperate. What coin she had left on her person was all but gone. She was tired of wandering, with no home and no hope and no future to look forward to. She agreed. And felt nothing but regret over the choice she made.

Someone knocked insistently on the door. "I am ready," she called softly. Servants of the house walked in with a healer. Y/n was asked to lay face up and stay still. A flush crept up her throat, but she did as she was told. The healer pulled her rough-spun robe up to her waist and spread her legs, to examine her. Y/n felt a pinch and winced. Her cheeks were ablaze with humiliation. She was told this was necessary. Y/n did not want to think why.

The maids mouthed meaningless comforts while they led her to the baths. Y/n did not believe they meant a word of what they said. They were only loyal to the master of the house and did not spare a thought for her before this. She sat still in a copper tub and was bathed in hot water scented with fragrant oils. One maid carefully washed her hair before picking up a comb to brush the tangles. The other cleaned her feet and nails before scrubbing her back. She chatted incessantly while she went about her tasks. Y/n listened. Anything to distract her from what was about to happen.

"Everyone is talking about you," Eda gossiped, red-cheeked and excited. "Fights have broken out amongst the younger lordlings and..."

"That is quite enough from you, Eda," the other maid, Cwene, cut in harshly. She wanted to end whatever Eda longed to say. Eda bit her lip and nodded anxiously. They both went back to work, silent as the dead.

Y/n shivered and gulped in fright. She knew what was going to happen. She was to be indentured. The man who promised her a brighter future would sell her skills and her, to the one who was willing to pay the most. Those fortunate few who served those with fair hearts had the price of their purchase decrease over time and enjoyed a better life after that. Many more were given a price that only increased as the years passed. They had to toil day after day and year after year, slaves in all but name. Then there were those unfortunate few who faced the bleakest of all futures. Y/n did not allow herself to dwell on those others.

She thought, Perhaps I will be one of the fortunate few, and allowed herself to be helped out of the bath. Perhaps, I will be lucky.

Y/n let the maids lead her to another room and stood still while they toweled her dry and dressed her in silken wisps that made her blush. Then came her gown. It was so soft and smooth that it slipped over her palms like water. She could not remember the last time she wore anything so fine. It made her feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. Eda took her to a nearby stool and asked her to sit. She brushed y/n’s hair until it shone and arranged it in braids and coils. Dabs of sweet-smelling perfume were placed on each wrist and behind each ear. Finally came a pair of sandals crafted out of soft leather. Y/n sighed as if in a dream. The sandals embraced her feet gently, like lovers. Cwene held up a looking glass for her to see her reflection. Y/n was startled. She could not recognize herself.

"She looks like a proper princess now," was all Cwene allowed. Someone else arrived and knocked on the door to the baths. It was the master of the house.

"Take this one to the yard," he rasped to Eda. "The others are growing impatient."

The yard was all freshly cut grass and new flowers, and it was already full of Edain. They gaped at the elf on the raised dais, their looks making her skin crawl. A tall, beautiful woman with hair like spun gold and rubies glinting on her ears, fingers, and throat, climbed up the steps and came to y/n. She looked at her critically. Y/n buried a sob when she saw the rubies. They reminded her of her mother’s hair.

"Beautiful," she whispered, the sweetness of her voice doing little to hide the bitterness lurking beneath. She tilted y/n’s chin with the tip of an elegant walking stick. She wanted to see how her eyes caught the light. Satisfied with what she saw, the woman looked over y/n’s hair and ears, and even her teeth. "Her eyes are like jewels. But tell me, I pray you. Why does she look so gaunt and melancholy? Has she not been fed well?"

It was not said out of kindness. There was none in the lady’s hardened gray eyes. Y/n lowered her gaze and closed her own, as was expected. She did not say that she was given meager scraps because the master of the house did not wish to waste more coin than he already had on her. It could only go badly for her if she did.

"She has," Y/n’s master replied hastily. He crept up to her and dug his fingers into her arm, warning her to keep quiet. Y/n bit her tongue to stop herself from making a sound. "And since the lords that frequent The Blue Rose expect women fit for a king," he added, "This one will do nicely after a good meal, yes?"

"Indeed," the woman conceded, and looked y/n over again. She grabbed y/n's cheek hard, her nails digging into the skin. "Cry if you must," she whispered harshly when y/n, trapped and unable to move, whimpered. "Tear out your hair. I would too if I was in your place. But know this, elf. When the dust clears, you will be mine."

The woman turned to face y/n's master. "Your herald tells me she is untouched."

"Aye, lady Githa," came the reply. "The healer assured me of this."

"This truly is a most blessed day." Githa finally let go and laughed merrily. Y/n fell ill at the sound and found herself overcome with the shivers, but she welcomed the release from Githa's presence. She knew of The Blue Rose. Githa ruled it with an iron fist and was known to be a cruel mistress. The Blue, as it was more commonly known, welcomed the coin of high-born edain, some with tastes that could make one's stomach turn. At least, that was what the maids said. The women sent there never earned their freedom. Some, she had heard through careless chatter, did not even make it out alive. Y/n wanted to flee, to run somewhere no one knew of, and to hide. Since she could not, since she was already trapped, she prayed, hoping against all hope that she would not have to spend the rest of her days toiling on her back.

A herald came forth and called out her name and ties. His words were met with boisterous cheers. "She was born in the four hundred and fiftieth year of the first age," he continued, "and is skilled in both the high harp and the lute. The lady is also fluent in both Quenya and Sindarin. Her mother and father hailed from the Blessed Realm. She is meek and obedient, perfect for any household. And she is untouched. We have been assured of this. One such as her will not grace this dais again."  

Loud applause rang out around the yard. Y/n’s master grabbed her arm so hard that it hurt. She was dragged to the center of the block and made to stand straight. The herald would call out a price. Someone would offer more. Y/n listened with growing dread as her purchase price rose higher and higher. The cries soon reached a fevered frenzy that shocked her. She heard the unmistakably musical sound of Githa, the woman who looked her over like she was nothing more than a prize horse to be broken in, whatever means necessary. Githa had coin. From the way she carried on, it was plain she had plenty. If someone shouted a price, she would go higher. One by one, those others would give their excuses and stop. Y/n heard names being called out. Only six remained. Githa was one of the six. Fear coiled within her belly like a snake.

How could you do this to me, father? She wanted to cry. How could you and mother doom me to such a fate?

Y/n heard more voices. Word had already reached the marketplace and spread like a forest fire. Many poured into the yard and joined the throng. They wanted to watch. Someone shouted out ribald jests. Lady Githa replied with equal humor. The others laughed. Y/n kept her eyes closed even as her blood ran cold. She pretended not to hear. Doom coiled itself around her like a chain so heavy she could almost feel it tightening over her chest, squeezing the very air out of her. 

The herald called out names once again. Only two remained, he reminded the rest, but he invited everyone to indulge in the food and wine being served. Y/n could taste the bile at the back of her throat. Githa shouted another offer. 

"Six thousand gold pieces!" The herald declared and received a roar of approval. "And we still carry on!"

The crowd encouraged Lady Githa and her rival, urging them to continue. Grief gathered around y/n’s heart like bees. There was no escaping her fate now. No one was coming to save her. Tears welled up in her eyes and broke free. Someone laughed.  

"Twenty thousand gold pieces!" A deep voice boomed from behind the crowd. The yard went so quiet that y/n swore she would have heard a pin drop. "And an end to this wretched spectacle!"

Y/n heard the creak of floorboards. The herald went to talk with his masters. They were beside her, whispering to each other. Again, she pretended not to hear. 

"We cannot deny them," one said.

"That one will slaughter all of us if we refuse," another said. "Or do worse."

"Aye," muttered a third. "But we must give Lady Githa the opportunity to make her excuses and bow out. She may not come near us again otherwise. Continue with the sale."

"Tw-twenty thousand!" The herald returned and announced the figure. They were going to continue. "We have twenty thousand! Do either of you wish to go higher?" 

Moments passed. Y/n listened, thinking Lady Githa would call out a higher price and carry on. 

"He can have her!" Githa cried after speaking with her rival. She sounded less than pleased. "We are finished!"

"Very well!" The Herald agreed. "Twenty thousand gold! Going once, going twice, sold! To… to the crown prince of Gr-greenwood the Great!"

The herald sounded terrified. The crown prince of Greenwood the Great, he had declared. Y/n had heard of this kingdom and how its king and his people survived the sack of Doriath. In all her wanderings, she kept away from this realm, no matter how tired or weak or hungry she was. She knew she would find no welcome there. 

Y/n fearfully opened her eyes, certain the prince only brought her to punish her for the sins committed by her kin.  

Tags: @deadlymistletoe

#Please mind the warnings at the top of the post #thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #mirkwood imagine #dark #angst #x reader #reader insert #reader insert request #the silm #fanfiction #writeblr #💫a world of whimsy writes

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐕𝐈: 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ﾟ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: sorry for the long wait! at last the chapter we've all been waiting for/ dreading hehe. Also I couldn't help an unnecessary smut scene lol

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: modern-ish! Thranduil x Readder

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.8k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, smut, mirror sex, teasing, oral (f. receiving) creampie

Moans slipped past your lips through panted breaths, each one of your sounds high-pitched and frantic as you did your utmost to focus on keeping the strength in your legs. Your cheeks were squeezed between Thranduil’s fingers, your pursed lips grazing against his skin as he kept your head up and assured that you were still looking in the bathroom mirror. 

He was set on making a mess of you, you were sure of it. He had already sat you on the counter and knelt between your spread legs to use his skillful tongue to bring you to orgasm. Right after this, you had been turned around and bent over enough for him to bottom out inside of you while you were still so sensitive so that he could begin an onslaught of teasing in the form of grinding against your sweet spot until you came around him, oversensitive walls gripping his cock and leaking with your juices. 

It was only once your arms were too shaky to keep your upper half up with your palms pressed to the counter that Thranduil held you up to assure you had no choice but to look at yourself as he finally, finally began to drive his hips into you with enough force to make the jewels at your neck and ears swing back and forth. That’s what this was really about for him: getting you to stop being so panicky and fidgety about the combined price of your degree and old flat threefold hanging around your throat. The star-shaped jewels glittered across your flushed skin, letting off their little glow as tears spilled from your eyes. You dared to look away from your own reflection and to Thranduil’s: starlight blue eyes were fixed upon you and the movement of your expensive jewellery and it was bringing him much closer to orgasm than you knew. He delighted in providing everything for you, the roof over your head and all its bills, the deliveries of groceries to your house, your full wardrobe and racks of shoes, little luxuries and then grander ones that daunted you. 

He caught your eyes on his in the mirror and you cried out when his hand at your hip wrapped further around your body to your belly, going downwards until his palm was pushing against your abdomen and his fingers pointed down to rub at your clit. Your body felt boneless as you came on his cock once again and you could barely feel Thranduil’s strong arms wrapping around you over the sensation of what felt like hot electricity seeping through your veins. You could feel Thranduil’s breath on your neck as he held your body as close as possible to his while filling you with his cum. 

Hazily, you looked up at the state of yourself in the mirror as Thranduil unclipped the necklace from your neck and carefully removed the earrings, setting them down on the side before sweeping you up in his arms. You were placed on the floor in the shower, the cool tile making you shudder momentarily before it was soothed away by the heat of the water pouring against your back. Thranduil knelt down in front of you to tilt your head up, delighting in your tired smile before leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, your skin slightly salty with a sheen of sweat. 

You closed your eyes and hummed happily at the sensation of his fingers gently stroking through your hair to assure all of it was wet before lathering it in a bubbly shampoo that smelled of bergamot and violets. The fortune in the form of your most recent gift from him sat forgotten on the counter for a while as you simply delighted in having him take care of you like this, in such a simple and yet rawly intimate way. 

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

Thranduil had gone to work once more, a note on the bedside telling you that he would be back in time for dinner and to take things easy with your studies and make sure you gave yourself adequate breaks. He didn’t know that these notes make you wake with a smile on your lips and that there was a growing collection of these precious messages kept in your purse. 

That smile remained on your lips as you got up and showered away the filth that you had been covered in after your shower yesterday night. You found the tiles and screen still wet, telling you that Thranduil had done the same when he woke this morning. You slipped into some comfy clothes and slippers, your hair all wrapped up in a towel and ordered breakfast to be delivered to the house. Once you had eaten and you took out your laptop to study, your smile soured. 

‘I need more’ 

“Don’t ruin my morning…” You grumbled to the voice that had been haunting you as of late. You hated how it wouldn’t shut up until you went behind Thranduil’s back to snoop around his things. You loved Thranduil with all your heart, everyone else be damned, and you hated the guilt that came with making this voice leave you alone. 

‘Don’t you want to live forever with him?’ 

You took your pen out of your mouth, sure that your teeth would soon snap the lid clean in half if you kept on. Instead, you took in a deep breath that still felt as though it couldn’t fill your lungs and tapped your knuckles against the desk while your leg bounced in place. You’d give it a few more minutes to see if it would go away. In the meantime, you were scrolling through google scholar articles about gothic marxism in Dracula. 

‘You can die knowing that you missed your chance then. It would be such a shame for him to be widowed twice, would it not?’ 

“Fine!” You hissed through gritted teeth, “Only to shut you up and get what I want.” You briskly rose from your chair and marched your way down to Thranduil’s office where you retrieved the key from the statue bust and began skimming through the files that you hadn’t read in your previous visit here. Your throat dried up and tears welled in your eyes for a moment when you got to the last file and suddenly you couldn’t skim read. You had to take in every single word. 

This was a plan for a coup. 

He already had plans in place to take over the government and install this plan that you had already read about in the other files. But what was he waiting for if all of these preparations had already been made? What could– 

That dwarf lord he was always talking about, the dragon’s treasure. Hadn’t he mentioned an heirloom of his people once? It would be near impossible to get it back after this plan took action, let alone before. You decided that you would put everything away and take to the internet to look more into whatever this heirloom was. 

‘You’re not entirely stupid then, you do have your clever moments.’ The voice taunted once you voiced out your plan. 

“Shut up.” You retorted as you carefully put the first two files back in order and suddenly your heart fell from your chest in dread. Footsteps outside the door. You would have to put the files back and hide in the room, there was no opening to leave. Hurriedly and with your pulse blasting in your ears, you re-ordered the files and tore the drawer open to return them to their place but the door flung open and you froze like a deer in headlights, the key upon the desk and the files in your hand. 

“Y/n?” You had forgotten how to breathe as you gazed upon Legolas standing in the doorway, his hand still on the door handle. He stared back at you in silence before his eyes drifted to the folders in your hand, all of them stamped as confidential, “What are you doing in my father’s office? In his house?” 

“Legolas, I can explain, it’s…” 

“Where have you been?!” He exclaimed, “I’ve been worried sick trying to contact you! None of your flatmates have seen you in weeks! You haven’t been in classes or on campus at all!” 

“Please?” You interrupted before he could go on, your tone pleading him to just listen. 

“No! Now I find you here while my father’s out, going through his office!” He fell silent for a moment and his brows furrowed, hurt written across his face. “Were you using me to get to him? Has someone sent you to dig up stuff on him?” 

“No! Well-” You thought of the voice which seemed to go silent now, not offering up its wise, wise advice for once. “Look, I think it would be best if we called Thran- your father to… to straighten everything out.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s a great plan.” He replied with a tone of venom in his voice as he took his phone out from his back pocket, dialling up his father and marching out of the room. Panic overtook you as you replaced the files and the key with shaky hands. 

This was your worst case scenario. Legolas was about to find out you were dating his dad and Thranduil was about to find out you had been snooping through the most confidential documents in his office. You left the office, carefully closing the door behind yourself before heading to the living room where Legolas was pacing up and down the length of the room, biting out orders to his father to come home immediately while you slunk onto the sofa, pulling your knees up to your chest to hide your face as you tried to steady out your breathing, tears in your eyes. Everything was about to fall apart. Everything. 

‘Don’t you dare tell him about me. You admit to snooping, you find out about this heirloom and you encourage him to carry out this coup as soon as possible. If you tell him about me, you’ll never have the chance to live forever with him.’ The voice instructed. 

“Leave me alone.” You whispered to it before reaching for the remote to turn on the TV for some background noise, unable to stand the silence now that Legolas was sitting in an armchair and staring at the floor as he tried to piece together what was going on. You just stuck on the news channel and it was something about those murders everyone had been talking about. The guardians at RINGS were proposing a curfew to try and keep people safe as all the murders had taken place at night. 

You were surprised at the taste of blood in your mouth and you stopped gnawing at your lip when you realised that you had broken skin. Perhaps it would be better to chew on that poor pen right now. Your head spun towards the entrance to the foyer when you heard the front door open and close. 

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[edensrose]

hello!!:) i hope ur well today<3

i was wondering if i could get maybe some (SFW) headcanons for a yandere sauron and thranduil (separate) with a very feminine reader who’s royalty in another city/kingdom? like the reader wears a lot of dresses and floral stuff and often has flowers in their hair etc

thank u so much in advance i’m in love with ur pieces 💗💗

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ thranduil, mairon ( separately ) ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. you just so happen to catch the eye of two men, who both are unsure of how to handle this new influx of infatuation ( yandere themes ៸៸ possessive and obsessive behaviour ៸៸ arranged marriage ៸៸ dark themes in general viewer discretion is advised )

· ⊰ note. I'm doing good thanks! I may have gotten a little carried away with this but it's fine haha, hope you enjoy!

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ THRANDUIL 

ʚ You had caught his eye during a celebration of both kingdoms. You were a princess and from the moment he first laid eyes on you he was completely mesmerised. It had probably been the first time he looked upon a woman and thought she was blessed with the appearance of starlight - since his late wife, at least 

ʚ At first he would have ignored it, deeming it as a simple infatuation and trying to continue the rest of the night as he had before. However, he kept finding his eyes lingering to you no matter how hard he tried to distract himself with something else 

ʚ It is only after many failed attempts that he would eventually question your identity, simply questioning one of your people. Your name remained in his mind like a broken record even days after the event, he couldn’t help but say it whilst he was alone to see how it would feel upon his tongue 

ʚ Knowing now that you were a princess, it wasn’t very difficult to find more information about you. That’s exactly what he distracted himself with for the coming weeks, gathering every little speck of info on you that he possibly could. Every time he tried to stop, tell himself this was irrational, indecent, he found himself suppressing his conscience and continuing on

ʚ Every opportunity that he had to meet with your kingdom, he took it. Which was surprising to your father considering that it was common knowledge that Thranduil preferred to remain in his own realm and not concern himself with other kingdoms. Now, he had a reason - you. With everytime he saw you the elvenking felt as though he was falling deeper into this pit that he actively dug for himself 

ʚ All he thought of was you, your beauty, that smile which drove him up the wall, the bright look you would give him. And he wanted it all for himself

ʚ So one can imagine his frustration when he learnt of all the suitors that were presented to you. Even if you did turn them down - the fact that they dared even attempt to steal you away drove him to a place that he never thought was possible. And soon, you began to notice a disturbing trend - the disappearances of these suitors 

ʚ Thranduil had gone so far off the edge and he had only exchanged a few words with you, only met you a handful of time. He wanted more - needed it. Which is exactly what influenced his next actions. Despite only meeting you a few times, the next time you saw him - he proposed to you. You were flattered but of course, turned this down. After all, you barely knew him outside of political means. 

ʚ It angered him, greatly. And the next thing you knew, your father was excitedly telling you of your new engagement to the elvenking of the Woodland Realm and this time - you had no choice

ʚ You were wedded to him and thus, brought to Mirkwood as his wife and queen. You were thrown-off, even after you blatantly refused his proposal he had gone behind your back and spoke with your father? Of course your old man would agree! A princess from a lower kingdom being married off to one of the elven kingdoms. . . who would refuse such an offer? It opens up a number of opportunities

ʚ Yet, as time passed you quickly realised that Thranduil’s infatuation was something far darker than you could have ever imagined. He was obsessed with you, to a degree that brought you more than just fear. If you denied him the love that he, somehow, had for you in outrageous amounts - you would suffer consequences. You were never permitted to leave his chambers, you were made to rely solely on him 

ʚ You were expected to be his perfect little wife and, quite frankly, he wouldn’t take lightly to you refusing to conform to his demands. You were made to be the perfect replacement for who he had lost - in his own, sick way

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ MAIRON 

ʚ You had first caught his eye during his early days of being in Eregion, after befriending Celebrimbor during the forging of the rings where he posed as Annatar. He was surprised to learn that you were, in fact, Celebrimbor’s daughter - but immediately turned back to his work and tried to rid himself of the small interest that he had taken the first few times that saw you 

ʚ However, soon he began to notice that his little interest was not one-sighted. Yes, Mairon knew good and well that his appearance as Annatar was fair, so he wasn’t too surprised the few times he caught you, a young princess, staring at him. Did that mean he wasn’t prideful in this? Of course not, it was feeding not only his ego but now, his interest 

ʚ He found himself taking his time, leading you on for a little and deducing whether or not you would be worth pursuing - and for a certain time he even scolded himself. After all, he was here on a very strict mission - not to be infatuated with his enemy’s daughter

ʚ But soon. . . he found these thoughts twisting. What more if he win you over, take you as a form of a prize while he succeeded in his plan? This sudden dark twist in thoughts is what led him to pursue you and so, a bit of a blossoming romance developed between the two of you 

ʚ Well, that is what it appeared as to you. You were young and head-over-heals for the charming elf who had mysteriously found his way to your kingdom. In a way, you were blinded: and all by the concept of first love 

ʚ Mairon was convinced he had you under his little finger and with every passing day he felt himself becoming more enthralled by you, in ways that he would have never imagined. Of course, he wouldn’t show this, he would hide this growing fascination - no. . . obsession. 

ʚ You would never see the number of dark looks sent at those who dared laid their eyes on you, nor be aware of the various people of your kingdom mysteriously gone missing after certain interactions with you. It appeared that you overlooked how possessive he tended to become when the two of you were in public, much less in your own home

ʚ All the signs were there, but you were blinded by your love for him. That was until everything went south and after his ‘temporary leave’ you learnt of his treachery from your father. You were terrified, disgusted even - you were in cahoots with the dark lord? You allowed him to be so intimate with you - Sauron himself!?

ʚ On a particular night you were surprised when you were met with Annatar in your room. Of course, you rebuked him. To think that he was foolish enough to believe that you’d still want him even after you found out of his true identity. It angered him, greatly. Did everything mean nothing to you? 

ʚ Unfortunately, the dark lord appeared to not have only developed an obsession for you - but had also. . . surprisingly, fallen in love with you. And there was no way in hell that he was letting you reject him. That day was the last time your father and family every saw you - for you were dragged back to Mordor 

ʚ Whether you wanted to or not you were forced to love him as you once did. After all, you couldn’t have him actually fall for you - become so infatuated and obsessed with you. . . and then leave him like it was nothing. Oh no, while you were under the impression that it was simply first love only on your side - you were wrong. For you were also the first women that Mairon had ever given his heart to 

ʚ And he would be damned if he let you go. Surely, you would be with him, there in Mordor. You would love him as you once did. . . even if it brought you to your death.

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#— ꒰🌺꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐬 ៸៸ tolkien ❜‧₊ #thranduil #mairon #sauron #the silmarillion #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #tolkien #thranduil x reader #thranduil reader insert #mairon x reader #mairon reader insert #x reader #reader inserts #yandere #tw yandere #dark content #headcanons #writing

[queenstarlight2]

yandere lotr/Hannibal wallpaper

All made by yours truly, I hope you enjoy them. (I made these all for my bestie other then the hannibal one. @starlightelves I adore you my bestie:) 

#yandere thranduil #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x reader #thrandaddy #thranduil #elrond peredhel #elrond x reader #dark elrond #elrond headcanon #elrond #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas imagine #legolas #hannibal imagine #hannibal x reader #hannibal headcanon #hannibal #yandere #yandere lord of the rings #yandere hannibal #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings imagine #the lord of the rings imagines #lord of the rings #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit x you #the hobbit

[mismaeve]

Kinda in the mood to write dark Thranduil...

#dark thranduil #thranduil x reader #haven't written him in ages so maybe it's time #none of my other wips seem to appeal to me today

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Tolerate It | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.

▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy. 

The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left. 

Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect. 

Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention. 

Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.

Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone. 

You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize. 

One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp. 

Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable. 

The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair. 

Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance. 

The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years. 

Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found. 

You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?

"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"

At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.

" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."

Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"

You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.

"I could say the same about you, prince."

He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.

"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.

"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.

"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."

"You don't need--"

"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."

So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.

"I think I'm technically your stepmother."

"But you feel more like a friend."

You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.

"Then I am glad we are friends."

Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.

Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.

"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."

He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.

Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.

Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.

When would this torment end?

---

The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you. 

Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.

The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care. 

“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough. 

A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?

“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.” 

Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.

“It was a bit gauche.”

Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own. 

“I thought it looked nice.” 

His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash. 

“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.

Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror. 

“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser. 

“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to marry off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”

“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?” 

“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.

“To ensure an alliance with your family.”

“That is it? For no reason other than that.”

Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.

“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--

You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit. 

“I see.”

A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.

You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.

“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.” 

Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding. 

The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Tags: @jmablurry | @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @lifestylesleep | @themerriweathermage | @im-a-muggleborn | @sweetheart-syndrome | @boyruins | @AwkwardBecomesYou | @delyeceamaitare

#thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #thranduil #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit one shot #the hobbit #lotr imagine #lotr oneshot #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings imagine #middle earth imagines #lotr #tolkien #lord of the rings #lord of the rings oneshot #mirkwood elves #lord of the rings fanfic #king thranduil

[thran-duils]

Seduce & Destroy (P. 9)

Title: Seduce & Destroy (Part Nine) Summary: A mother is desperate to save her daughter from being married off to the Master of the Town or worse, sold to the brothel for her father to be able to afford drink and rent when he is failing at bringing in money for the household. The mother finds a witch deep in the ancient woods willing to take a sharp cost to bestow safety on the daughter. If it truly ends up as safety… that is yet to be seen. Pairing: Dark!Thranduil x Fem!Human Reader Words: 1,609 Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, magical manipulation, mental abuse Author’s Note: Okay, so after a huuuuuge mental block with writing in general over the course of the last 10 months and especially this story because I couldn’t decide or really picture the direction, I’ve got it. I promise more Hebe and reader content (magic related, not sexulaly, lol) next chapter!

Part Eight || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

(the watermark for the thranduil photo is still on there - this pic was found on pinterest and i was unable to find a link to the artist)

<><><>

Thranduil was drunk. That much was clear. The king loved his wine, that was for certain. And there were many nights where you knew he had drunk his fill. But tonight was something else entirely. You did not think it possible to imbibe as many goblets as he had and the fact he was still standing astounded you. He was full in his celebration of the New Year.

He was looser, his laughter hearty. It was a thing to behold – him sounding genuine in his laughter. You were unsure if you should feel touched by the sight of the generally tepid king so jovial or if you should keep your distance. Not that you could wander far, especially with the guard. He spoke of past parties’ memories with his court, warm memories, and you listened.

Thranduil merely guffawed when one of the court wandered off and it was reported back that they had drank themselves sick. Apparently that happened to at least one of the court at celebrations such as this.

Legolas was relaxed, leg swung over his chair, and loosely holding his goblet as he drank. He had not said one bordering on rude comment or sent an unkind glance your way throughout the night. There was no way you would let your guard down around him though; you kept your drinking to a place where you were warm, but the world was not a blur.

The celebration dragged on into the night and the food never seemed to disappear – the servants kept watchful eyes to make sure plates were full. The candles burned bright still, the music swelling and dipping. Some elves had pulled down ropes of the snowdrop and daffodil garlands to weave individual crowns. They danced, although now it seemed harder to keep their footing, but the mood was high.

Despite the energy still thrumming, your eyelids were beginning to become heavy. Thranduil found his seat beside you again and you opened your mouth to speak but he was not paying attention. His glass was empty and before he had a chance to beckon a servant, your hand came to rest on his arm that he had raised. It stalled his movement and his head turned to you. The intoxication was swimming in his eyes.

Leaning towards him, you told him quietly, “This celebration has been grand, and I’ve been pleased to partake. A beautiful party for your people. But I am finding myself fading from the excitement and would like to retire.”

Thranduil’s hand moved to come to brush at your cheek. His tongue peeked between his lips as his eyes trailed over your face before coming to meet your gaze. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and something lit in his expression.

It was then you had a sinking feeling it would still be awhile before you chased sleep.

Standing once more, he turned – a small stumble as he faced you – before holding out his hand to you.

“You’re quite right. The party has been splendid – one of the best. But it is growing late and I do not wish to see you fall asleep in your chair. You should be comfortable. Come.”

Thranduil bid his crowd to continue their jubilee in his absence before leading you away. A gaggle of guards fell in line behind the pair of you to escort you to his chambers.

A hand skirted across your bare shoulders. Twirled up into your hair and skirted down your neck. He was not keeping his hands to himself as you made your way through the halls. Soon his fingers were pulling at your bodice strings, and you tried to walk quicker to get to the stairs leading up to his chambers. He was impatient and you did not want him to continue trying to undo your gown before you were in the privacy of his room. In his state, he seemed to have lost care for propriety.

You did not make it up five steps before he was on you. His movement was swift and pointed much to your shock – his hands swooped you up underneath you and placed you onto the stairs above where he stood. Before you could ask what in the world he was doing, he knelt on the stairs to position himself between your legs. Your eyes bugged, realizing he was meaning to take you outside his chambers. You frantically looked over his shoulder down the hall where the guards had not ascended and had instead taken places against the wall, not paying mind to what was about to transpire. They acted as if they were statues.

Your skin was set alight as his hands dove up your dress and his fingers came into contact with your bare legs. And your cheeks burned knowing that you could so easily be exposed to the guards below if Thranduil happened to move a certain way to give them or anyone else who happened to come into the hall view.

“My lord?” you squeaked, hands coming down to push at your skirts to try to cover yourself again.

“I’m here,” he assured you, slapping your hands away. He trailed kisses up your thigh towards your sex.

Not deterred by his slapping, you tried to push him away again and his fingers dug into your thighs in response, and he came up to catch your mouth with his. When he pulled away again, you were breathless.

“What… what are you doing?” you asked him, voice shaking.

His eyes were dark, and he informed you, “I will taste you. I’ve thought about your sweetness all night. It was not until you asked to retire that I realized I could not wait any longer.”

“My King, you have had much wine. We are not in your chambers—” you tried to reason.

“I can do as I please,” Thranduil cut you off, pushing your skirts further up.

He was coming at you again and it took everything in you to not place your hands on his head through the bunched-up fabric to push him away from you. That would certainly not go over well to accost him in such a manner, especially in front of his guards. You looked towards them again, but they were still standing, staring straight ahead stiffly.

“Please, you must—” you raised your voice towards them to try to plead to them to intervene but squeaked again when Thranduil nipped at your inner thigh, his breath hot. You adjusted, trying to move your sex away from his desperate kisses.

He was not listening. His hands gripped your hips tight, yanking you to his waiting mouth. His tongue lapped up flat and hungry, teasing to dip into you.

“Your grace, we should retire before indulging in the other,” you spoke rushed, still squirming to halt his advance to no avail now with his grip on you. Another lick and his tongue did dip now. Your breath hitched, “What your people will think if they find you and I in the halls engaged in such an intimate act?”

You went ignored and gasped erotically when his tongue delved, licking at your nub. Your neck was burning with embarrassment at the position he was putting you in.

“It is unbecoming!” you snapped, losing your patience. You shifted roughly, using your knee to push his shoulder in a fluid motion. You succeeded in getting his tongue away from you but you had irritated him. He jerked away and his mouth was in a thin line. Your voice was still raised, “You told me I was not to be treated like a whore like my father meant for it to be. Are you going to break your vow?”

The crackle of the torches lighting the hallway and the party far off in the distance were the only sounds beside yours and Thranduil’s heavy breaths as you stared the other down. You had already irked him and you wanted – nay, needed – to stand your ground. It was one thing to have his people know of your affair but to treat you this way? He was far too drunk, and you wondered if he would have shame in the morning. If he would recall it at all.

His gaze was boring into you, threatening you to say anything further. There was no need, you had said what you had wished to – made a very damn good point if you were honest.

A sharp exhale left him, and he stood abruptly, swaying. You braced for him to tumble over onto you at the movement, but he caught himself on the wall.

“Get up,” he ordered. You did so and began to straight out your skirt but he stopped your movement as his large hand grasped your face roughly; you winced at the pressure. “You forget yourself, lóth. You will not raise your voice to me. Ever. Do you understand me? I rule over you, not the other way around.” You nodded and his fingers flexed, eyes searching your face. He seemed satisfied with your answer. “Good.”

Letting go, he told you, “You may continue to my chambers.”

Turning, you hid your hands that were shaking. But thanking the stars above that you would find privacy upstairs and that the guards had witnessed you trying to protect the dignity of their king. You could not imagine what rumors would have swirled about you allowing him to take you apart in public when he was intoxicated as he was.

You hoped that would win some favor amongst the elves and help to continue your assimilation into their society. A bitter win for the night.

Fic tags: @juniperwoodwell @buttercandy16 @tigereyesf @asuni921 @coopsgirl @mjaudrey @miriel-estelwen  @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @betty-not-boop @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @darkmystress00

#thranduil x reader #dark thranduil #thranduil fic #dark!thranduil x reader #dark!thranduil #my shit

[gulnarsultan]

🍃Imagine.🍃

Legolas is angry that father Thranduil (yandere) is keeping his mother locked up.

#the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit #yandere hobbit #yandere lotr #yandere thranduil #dark thranduil #thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader

[deadlymistletoe]

An Execution

Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

Genre: Angst/comfort

Description: When you’re forced to witness an execution performed by the man you love, Legolas shields you from the sight, but Thranduil still has to reassure you later.

Warnings: Beheading (not graphic), mentions of assault.

Word count: 1148

The man leered at you from where he knelt in the middle of the ring of elves.

You took a breath, averting your gaze to somewhere over his soon-to-be-detached head and failed to notice the worried glance from the elf beside you.

Legolas glanced between you, the human who had his father so smitten, and said father. Truth be told, he didn’t think you should be here. Yes, according to the customs you had to be here, seeing as you were the one the man had attacked, but he could also see the faint tremor in your stance, and he hated that you had to see his father in a light you’d never had to see before.

His father was happy, more than he had been in years, because of you, and Legolas was terrified that this would scare you off once and for all, leaving his father heartbroken once again.

When you’d gone to Dale with Thranduil, the man had taken one look at your close proximity to the king and the adoring gaze he looked at you with and seen his chance at revenge against the elves who’d ‘caused’ his sister's death.

It hadn’t been hard for him to corner you when you got separated from the other elves at the marketplace. You’d been drawn to the stall filled with flowers at the edge of the marketplace and he’d taken his chance, convincing you that he had some rare flowers the stall didn't offer in his wife’s garden. No need to mention that he didn’t have a wife.

After that you were just lucky that Thranduil had sent someone to find you, and the bruises that had quickly formed around your throat and your hysteric state were evidence enough for Bard to agree to hand over the man to the elves' justice system.

Those same bruises still stood out against your skin, your dress doing nothing to cover them up. You shivered, although the air was warm, thoughts racing through your head as the man’s sentencing crime was read out.

Were you about to be responsible for someone’s death? Yes, he was a horrible man, and yes, you’d never asked for his execution, but you hadn’t argued against it either. You’d even felt a sick sort of relief at the decision to end the man's life.

Your breathing picked up and you felt your hands begin to sweat as the gleaming sword was handed to Thranduil, your lover stepping towards the man, whose dark, leering eyes were still on you.

This was his own fault, you knew that, Thranduil had drilled it into your head that nothing was your fault for days afterwards. The law of the elves said that harm or assault towards one of their own was met with execution, and while it warmed your heart that the elves of Mirkwood thought of you as one of them, part of you still felt sick. Felt like you were to blame. You’d followed him, hadn’t you? Left those who were to keep you safe behind without a second thought?

The blade was lined up with the man's throat, the man’s eyes drilled into yours and you couldn’t look away.

The blade was pulled back. It swung forwards.

You let out a gasp as arms wrapped around your shoulders, spinning you around so your face was pressed into a green covered shoulder as the sound of metal swung through the air and a dull thud was heard.

Legolas met his father’s eyes over your head as you trembled against him, and saw the gratitude in his father’s eyes. 

Gratitude that you hadn’t had to see this side of him.

~

When Thranduil entered your shared chambers you were in the same place you had been since you had been escorted back hours before.

You were perched in the middle of the bed, knees pulled to your chest. You startled when he moved into your line of vision and he inwardly winced. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

He paused at the end of the bed, thankful that he’d made sure no blood was left on his robe, before he sat down on the edge, holding out a hand to you.

He held his breath, watching as you eyed his hand, the same hand the sword had swung from, before taking it and moving to sit beside him at the end of the bed.

You were both silent for a moment before he spoke, quietly, as if afraid of startling you. “I’m sorry you had to be there for that.”

“It’s okay.” You murmured. “Legolas made sure I didn’t see it.”

“Yes,” He squeezed your hand. “I thanked him for that.” He hesitated before continuing. “He was worried you would want to leave if you saw me like that.”

“Like what?” You murmured. “Like a king doing his duty?”

Thranduil swallowed. “Like a monster.”

You snapped your head around to look at him. Did he honestly think..? 

“No,” You hurried to reassure him. “You're not a monster. You were just…”

“Just what?” His piercing eyes met yours and you were unable to look away. “Just ending somebody’s life without a single ounce of sympathy? Because I don’t regret ending that man’s life. I only regret doing it with you there.”

“I don’t expect you to.” You whispered, falling silent again.

Thranduil sighed, bringing your hand up to his mouth to place a lingering kiss on your knuckles. “That man deserved everything he got. It is not your fault that he chose you to take out his anger on, nor that he got caught.”

You swallowed. “He said… he said that he had a sister… that the elves killed her.”

“I know.” He hummed. “It is not the first time I have seen that man. His sister fell into the enchanted river when they were children sneaking out to explore. Legolas’ patrol found them and pulled her out but it was too late. She drowned and he has blamed us ever since.”

“Oh, that’s horrible.” You whispered, feeling a sudden wave of sympathy.

He looked at you sharply. “That does not excuse his actions towards you. There are elves in this kingdom who have lost family because of humans and yet they do not condemn you for being human, do they?”

You sighed. You knew he was right. You leaned against his side. “I know. I just don’t like feeling responsible for someone’s death.”

He turned to press a kiss to your forehead. “You're not. And I don’t care if it takes years, I will prove it to you in every way possible, until it doesn’t even cross your mind.”

“I love you.” You whispered, not knowing what to say. Never before had someone been this dedicated to your feelings.

“And I love you, you silly human.” He murmured back. “Now let me show you how much.” 

Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee

#imagines #the hobbit #female reader #thranduil #legolas #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x you #platonic legolas x reader #my writing

[himegureisu]

Time

Summary: Your love language is quality time. However, your husband is the King of Mirkwood.

A/N: I was supposed to write a Mycroft Holmes/Female Reader. However, this idea popped up and went brr in my head and then my fingers. I needed to finish it before it went so here it goes my first for this pairing I hope you enjoy! (And good night for me because it’s 4AM also not proofread)

Pairing: Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

——————————— 🍃 ———————————

“What was it, meleth nín?” Thranduil asked, “I apologize our time is to be cut short again,”

It was the nth time someone interrupted your strolls to whisk him away for a matter of utmost significance and to be honest, you were tired of it.

Trying so desperately to take time between the day to see him. To get a moment of his time.

He was a King.

A title that holds responsibilities he could not neglect. You know that. However, you didn’t expect to be pushed aside.

“It’s nothing,” you fake a smile, “You should go they need you,”

But I need you too.

You didn’t try after that.

Your handmaiden noticed your melancholy days after the incident. It was like he didn’t notice you were gone.

Yes, you did eat together most of the time. However, you didn’t pop by his office during your free time. You didn’t leave snacks anymore for him to munch on when he forgets to eat. You didn’t propose to walk so you could both stretch your legs. You didn’t wait for him to go to bed.

Contrary to your belief, your husband did notice your absence.

His days were often tedious and tiring. Your short visits were always something he looked forward to. The bright spot to his days so when palace staff gossip came through his ears…

“The Queen seems pale. Is she ill?” a soft feminine voice asked in concern,

“Oh, why would she be ill?” a different voice, an ellon this time, “Maybe she’s expecting a child!”

“She could be ill because of the child.” the elleth remarks, as another joins in the conversation,

“The Queen is not expecting I would know.”your handmaiden divulged as much, No, she seems dejected.”

“The King has been busy…”

Her words echoed in his mind because it was true. His thoughts wandered to those moments your times were constantly interrupted and the day you last visited.

Oh.

“Where is the Queen?” he asks your handmaiden, who exited the study, a book on hand for you.

“At the gardens, My Lord,” she simply answered.

“That’s for her?” he gestured to the book, she nods meekly, “I’ll take it to her. Go tend to your other duties,”

Your handmaiden scurries off in fear and intimidation to go prepare your clothes for the evening. On the other hand, your husband quickly makes his way to the gardens where he couldn’t see you.

“By Valar,” he mumbles frustratedly, walking through the foliage, “Where are you?”

Your soft sniffles give you away.

Between two trees, there was a hammock tied on to their sturdy barks. On the hammock, beneath a thick blanket, you hug his pillow as your tears fell down your cheeks.

From outside your cocoon, the grass crackle as slow footsteps approach your hideout.

Your book finally.

“Did you find that book I asked for?”

“I did,”

A different voice answered. One you haven’t heard from in what seemed like days. His voice.

“Meleth nín,” he breathed out, “Please do not hide from me,”

“I’m hardly presentable,” you sniffed, wiping your tears away, as the hammock tilts a bit on one side, “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting of sorts?”

“No,” he frowns, sitting on the edge of the fabric, the book left on by his side, “I don’t care if you’re presentable or not. I’m not the kingdom,”

Slowly, you emerge from your shell to be greeted by his silver eyes, dull in color much like your own has been these past couple of weeks.

“Oh, meleth,”

There were dark shadows beneath your eyes. Your cheeks were stained with dry tears and nose flush from mucus buildup. His heart twisted beneath his chest at the sight of you.

What has he done?

“Oh, meleth nín,” he said, taking you in his arms for a warm embrace you missed, “I’m sorry. I am a fool,”

He hated being the cause of your tears.

“You were,” your voice cracked, as you tuck yourself beneath his chin savoring his presence, “I missed you so much,”

“I missed you too,” he kisses your forehead, and pulls you closer, “I’m sorry that I didn’t reach out, didn’t make the time, made you cry, made you feel like this…”

Your tears fall once again down your cheeks to his robes. He noticed. He noticed your absence after all.

“You are my starlight, my reason to go on,” he softly declared, “I promise I’ll try to do better,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I needed” you quietly admit, “I thought I’d be bother you already do so much,”

“You are never a bother,” he adamantly says, glancing down to see you also looking at him, “You are always welcome to whisk me away from the duties of court. I’d rather you than them.”

“Their needs are much more important than mine,” you say.

“But your needs are the most important to me,” his words caused your heart to flutter in the most endearing ways. “You are the most important to me. You do not need to vie for my time or attention. You will always have it. Though, I may not notice it at times you should not hesitate to tell me.”

“If so, can we just stay like this?” you breathed out tiredly against his chest, your ear to his heart beating soundly beneath, “I just… need you,”

“We can,” he gently kisses your forehead, as your eyelids droop down, “It would be a pleasure,”

“Thranduil,” you softly whisper, as he places his forgotten pillow beneath your heads, “Gi melin,”

“Gi melin, meleth nín,” his fingers tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear as you settled on his chest, “Sleep. I will be here when you wake,”

It wasn’t long until you did.

Your breaths soft and even as Thranduil gently places the book on the ground so neither of you gets stabbed by its’ edges. He pulls you the closest he could, you unconsciously grasp tight.

Just the way you both liked it.

He lays there quietly observing the heavens, where scattered white clouds and birds of the realm adorned the blue skies, wondering how he was so lucky to have fallen for a second time to you.

He didn’t know what time it was and frankly, he didn’t care when his eyes slowly surrendered to the thrall of slumber joining you in blissful rest for the afternoon.

He would do better. He was going to do better. For you.

#fanfiction #thranduil x reader #thranduil #thranduil x you #thranduil oropherion #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #lord of the rings

[kiatheinsomniac]

M O D E R N    T H I N G S    A U

description: in this AU, Tolkien’s world and ours collided at their very beginnings and their respectful histories merged together as they grew into one. Fantasy races, languages and a degree of magic exist here. Thranduil, once an Elvenking, has become a leading politician with the dissolution of monarchies. You - a mortal university student and friend of Legolas - have caught his eye and you find yourself willing to do just about anything to stay with Thranduil and in his graces as the reality of what you have got yourself into dawns upon you.

notes: smut marked with *

I N N O C E N C E

Sweeter than Poetry (Prologue)*

Covert as a secret

Quieter Than a Whisper (Louder Than a Thought)

T E M P T A T I O N

Easier than acceptance*

More scattered than stars

Clearer than exposure*

S E L F I S H N E S S

#thranduil oropherion #yandere thranduil #legolas thranduilion #thranduil x reader #thranduil #dark! thranduil #tolkien elves #elven king #elvenking #RINGS and Things #platonic! legolas #thranduil smut #thranduil x you