#middle earth imagine

[doodle-pops]

Finrod NSFW Alphabet

Request: Hello 👉👈 I really love your writing and since your requests are open if you're up for it could I ask for some NSFW headcanons for Finrod? I deeply enjoy this blonde blorbo 💜 thanks and be healthy - Anon

A/N: It’s always a pleasure to write one of these alphabets for the elves, especially for our golden boy. I hope you’re staying well also. Enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The air is quiet, however, he’s still energetic after having sex and would cuddle you like an overly ecstatic puppy while touching some part of your body. It’s usually him pulling your sweaty body halfway on top of his while his hand wander and touching your back, butt and thighs. Finrod doesn’t mean for it to be an initiator for another round, he simply enjoys the proximity of the bodily contact you two are sharing in the moment and doesn’t want for it to end or be limited to simply lying beside each other. At the same time, when you manage to catch your breath and haven’t fallen asleep, likewise him, he would inquire about your next move. His voice is tender, yet, deep as he asks if you would like to have a bath run, something to eat and drink or lie in bed and talk? Once he receives his answer and is aware of your body status, he returns to being the cuddly bean that he is.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It’s your eyes. Those gorgeous eyes of yours he loves endlessly. He wants every act to involve you looking into his eyes because the eyes never lie; they are the windows into one’s soul and he wants to know how lost in the pleasure or in love are you. All those whimpers and pleads are usually followed by your eyes softening or becoming puddles as they roll or cross when the pleasure is just right. He loses his mind when he knows how close you are and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, which drives him wild. It allows him to calculate his next move with accuracy and precision to make you lose your mind.

On him, it’s between his mouth and fingers because he’s exceptionally skilled at bringing you great forms of pleasure using those two. He simply loves when you beg him to use his mouth, guiding him to where you want him most or how he whispers sinfully into your ear as he holds you down to finger you. His ability to drive you crazy with his body parts makes his ego run wild and he uses them to his advantage.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Not a messy person to begin with and prefers releasing inside you, on your thighs or in your mouth if you provide him with a blowjob. While his desire to impregnate doesn’t run explicitly as the rest of the members of his family, he enjoys the sensation of your walls milking every ounce of his cum out of his cock. It’s a feeling he experienced and became hard to ignore anytime you two are intimate. The rare occasion when he doesn’t desire to finish inside you is when you’re rewarding him with an earth-shattering blowjob, which he can’t refuse.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

As regal and majestic Finrod appears, he enjoys the days when you take the weight of dominance off his shoulders and take the lead in bed. Yup, he’s a switch and revels in the dynamic. Not all the time he want to be giving the pleasure even he receives; he wants to see what tricks you have up your sleeves and how well you can take the lead and return satisfactory pleasure to your King. The sub side of him tends to appear when he’s down on energy or when he’s in that roleplaying headspace. However, he tends to lean on the dominant side more often than the sub.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He read lots of books and heard discussions from his lawless family members about the basic do’s and don’ts when it comes to intimacy. Finrod isn’t a skittish person when it comes to daring acts when it’s new to him. This is something he faces with passion and determination; it’s both your pleasure on the playing field and he isn’t wanting to take it as a joke. His first time with you would be full of confidence, leading you to believe that he’s done this before—he’s a natural. Anything outside of the basics would require experimenting and your input should you have intel, and he isn’t one to shy away from learning new intimate activities.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Finrod is a simple person and would go for missionary as his most used position because he wants to get lost all up in your eyes—you have gorgeous eyes he wants to see, okay. It’s such a raw and intimate position in his eyes that allows him to grant you the world of pleasure, plus, he can manoeuvre your legs anywhere he enjoys while choosing the pace he wanta to deive hismelf into you with. Furthermore, in this position, he gets to have access to your body to utilise his mouth, meaning his pretty lips are whispering sweet praises in your ear or attached to your lips, neck and chest.

Riding him is another favourite position because he gets to watch you riding him like a stallion. Those hands on his chest leaving behind moon crescents, or the up and down motion of your body causing your breasts to jiggle spurs him on. His own hands can’t help but reach out to ‘assist’ as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. It’s an easy-to-access position when you slip into his study or throne—should he be up for a quickie—or when he wants to lead you under the false impression that you’re in control of the session. So easy it is for him to buck into you, pinning your arms behind your back and take over. All you can do is hang on for the ride.

On mornings after your night together, when his energy might be too low for him or you to get on top, he’ll opt for spooning. In this position, it feels like he doesn’t have to rush, and you don’t have anywhere to go as the world unravels around you two as the morning awakens. Your leg resting in the crook of his elbow as he spreads you wide enough for his cock to sink smoothly into your heat, while he presses soft kisses to your shoulder as he takes his time carrying you off to your climax.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s capable of being both goofy and serious during sex, it all depends on the reason. If he’s jealous or the moment calls for a touch of sentiment, Finrod would hope that you would understand his reasoning and respect the atmosphere. Laughing during times like that would lead him to believe that you didn’t care. Anything outside of those moments, Finrod wouldn’t mind revelling in a burst of hearty laughter if he or you made a mistake, or the moment requires great joy to be expressed. You two probably knocked heads or slipped, leading to you laughing at each other’s eagerness.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sadly, elves don’t have body hair and Finrod is remarkably famed for the hair he had on his head compared to what he has below. So if you peeked, it is clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Finrod has his own way of making every sentimental moment romantic and full of love. I’m sure there were times when you two slept and it was simply pure fucking for the sake of pleasure and relief, but there are times when he wants to romance you. This is when you get introduced to body-worshipping Finrod who doesn’t stop until you know your worth and you are incapacitated, in a good way. His mouth is attached to every inch of your skin, whispering sweet words as he kisses and bites while having extreme body contact—like he’ll rest half his weight atop you to pin, but also want to let you feel him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I can see him masturbating if it’s done under mutual masturbating and voyeurism. Other than that, it’s hard to see him touching himself when he’s alone. Don’t get me wrong, he would touch himself to thoughts of you, but he would rather you watch as he comes undone to the thoughts of you that consume him, putting his cravings at the back and waiting for the right moment to gift you that sight. So if he was thinking of you, he’ll wait when you’re alone in your chambers and gift you the magnificent sight of witnessing how crazy you drive him.  

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

One of Finrod’s weaknesses stems from his titles being used to get him either on his knees or feral. He adores when you address him as ‘My King’ or ‘Your Majesty’ which already announces his position, however, he likes to take it up a notch and introduce roleplaying. He has admitted to enjoying the use of domineering titles being used on him, so he opts for roles that grant him access to hearing names like, ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’. The cheeky devil finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of pleasure when you’re playing a servant or a merchant, desperate for your King to grant you favour.

Whether it is a kink or not, he has the strangest fascination watching you squirt. It brings out a childlike wonder in him, especially the first time it happened, and he inquired about it. That was all Finrod needed to get to work using every technique in the book, and like I said, he’s skilled with his mouth and fingers, so it will be achieved with ease. Just seeing you gush a waterfall which is derived from the satisfaction of the insurmountable pleasure he’s giving you makes him content. He doesn’t always make you squirt every session, since the time and place prevent that, but when he’s in the mood to, count your blessings because one is not enough.

Believe it or not, sensory play is also a favourite of Finrod. He’ll introduce blindfolds and elven ropes to leave you on the edge as he strips away your sense of sight and touch, even going as far as to remove hearing as he becomes a ghost on his feet. One minute you’ll be feeling the feathery touches of his fingers, and the next, you’re experiencing his cock pounding into you. When you’re incapacitated like this, his teasing tends to go up a notch, denying you any and all chances to feel his body against yours except his cock, fingers or mouth.

A massive body-worshipper which grants him access to quite a few other kinks up his sleeves like bondage. Nothing extravagant or elaborate, just a few simple bonds to your/his wrists and ankles, and he’s good with that. All that’s left to do is to relax and enjoy the oncoming pleasure either of you would grant the other. The only difference between you two is that Finrod is a massive tease and revels in teasing you as he worships your body; making you beg or confess how beautiful you find yourself if you desire his touch. However, he doesn’t appreciate the favour being returned excessively; tease him, but not too much. He’ll tug against the restraints, easily breaking out of them, before pinning you to the bed and asking, ‘What was so funny about teasing me so much?’

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Mostly in his chambers, study, the courtroom and his home (in Valinor). You can get him to participate in a session in the forest if you two are camping, at a spring or a waterfall and the area if safe. It wouldn’t be wise if his guards were standing outside while he was taking you because it meant that he couldn’t hear your sweet moans and cries of his name. So, he would ensure that his guards weren’t around before he indulged.

Whispering ‘My King’ or ‘Your Majesty’ in his ear late at night or in private easily gets his blood pumping. He’s doing his best to restrain himself as he grips his quill with every effort not to snap it. The desire to pounce on you is strong yet hangs by a thin thread and grows more dangerous each second you wander about his space, taunting him. Finrod is also quite proud of his accomplishments and himself, so praising him also goes a long way in getting him to conform to your wishes to of having him in bed. Run your hands across his muscles, his clothes and through his hair giving small tugs, tell him how good of a King he is to his subjects and that you wish to pay respect to his kindness. He’ll easily allow you to have your way.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that would involve infliction of pain, blood or violence. Extreme BDSM would be out of the question to Finrod as well as any use of weapons. Furthermore, he isn’t going to be pleased with sharing or having others watching.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Like his older cousin, it’s no joke that he has an oral fixation as well and his mouth has to be on some part of your body. Finrod is a pleaser and he’ll eat you for both his pleasure and yours. Spending hours between your legs while it’s wrapped around his head suffocating him helps to relieve his stressful days as King. All he has to do is bat his pretty lashes at you and you’ve succumbed to his desires. There are times when he keeps his crown on and informs you to come sit on your throne while flashing you a lopsided grin because he knows what he’s doing. This is the one time where he doesn’t let up because he can’t get enough of your taste. Your legs could be shaking, you could attempt to push his head away and he’ll continue; this is after all for both you and him.

When receiving, he doesn’t shy away from accepting the act, however, he has a preference for you pleasuring him in other ways, so you’ll have to push him down. Or you can sneak into his study and suck him off from under the table while he struggles to keep a straight face and focus. During those moments, his hands would gently cradle your head as he leaves you to do your thing at your own pace…until you decide to go extra slow and tease him. That’s when he’ll grumble before guiding your head along his length or if he’s standing, thrusting into your mouth. It’s the one time when he’s rough while receiving oral.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Finrod leans towards slow and sensual whenever he’s intimate. This means that he’s a slow and passionate lover, enjoying deep, long, and slow strokes that are almost too much for you to handle before speeding up slightly, leaving you breathless or begging him to ease up—he doesn’t because he enjoys how flustered you become with his thrusts. This isn’t to say that he can’t get rough from time to time. For him, being rough only comes when you make him jealous, he’s heavily stressed or being a damn tease. This is when his thrusts are swift and rougher than usual, perhaps a slight bit of manhandling might happen in the moment. But to say the least, his rough side is enjoyable when he’s pinning you against some surface.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are a thing you would depend on due to both your hectic schedule as leaders, and he would follow along. Most of the time, it’s him helping you out when you require relief since he isn’t as horny as you unless you purposefully rile him up by calling him one of his titles or wearing a tight or low-cut neckline. Otherwise, he genuinely goes along because he doesn’t have an issue when you desire him to please you. And here is where he gets to use his mouth and fingers most to get you off. It is on the rare occasion that he undresses and fully takes you, leaving you to take charge in the form of riding him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I believe that the biggest risk Finrod is willing to take is allowing you to crawl on your knees to him in your submissive role. The act to him is debauched because you shouldn’t ever be on your knees in that manner, but there’s something sexy about watching you crawl over to him dressed in your finest lingerie or naked, to greet him. It’s different compared to when you’re on your knees sucking him off. Either the predatory or innocent look in your eyes as you look up at him makes his brain shut down for a split second before he gets serious. It’s the only lowly act he considers taking a chance to participate in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Should the moment surround love and sentiment, Finrod is willing to have two to three rounds for the night, stretching each out to over thirty minutes. He’s worshipping you from head to toe every round because he is a passionate lover who leaves his touch quaking in your bones when he’s finished. However, if he’s jealous, everything is rougher and longer, as in five rounds until you understand that it’s he you should focus on and belong to. Of course, he gauges your responses to know if you can go for more.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Since toys, like what we have, don’t exist in Middle Earth, there aren’t many options to choose from if he were to indulge. To him, the idea of including toys would be great on your behalf since it would allow you to pleasure yourself when he couldn’t. The most he would request is to be present when you use them, so he can enjoy the performance while sipping on a glass of wine. Blindfold and elven ropes, something they have, would be included frequently in your activities since you mentioned that you enjoyed the heightened pleasure they added.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Yes, Finrod is a massive tease who hates to be on the receiving end when the tables are turned. He wants to drive you mad and have you moan, cry and beg for his touches; it fuels his ego to learn how much you crave him. Just listening to your whimpers as his lips ghost the shell of your ear as he tells you how much he desires you, knowing that you’re unable to do anything because you’re in public. The wicked, innocent, grin he throws at you before he saunters away, leaving you in a mess. But if you return the favour, he’ll take it for a while before growing impatient and pouncing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I have to say, his moans are heavenly. Quite angelic, especially when he tosses his head backwards to allow his golden curls to fall while releasing sweet notes, emphasising how good you make him feel. Either that, or he’s in your ear moaning like crazy, knowing how his voice makes you wetter and come undone faster. He isn’t excessively loud, but rather soft whimpers and moans like his goal is to seduce you with them, and he succeeds.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Finrod has a mirror kink which is a category under his love for body-worshipping. It goes both ways because he wants you to witness how you come undone with every touch, stroke and whisper he delivers so diabolically while you also desire the same with him. If you have an issue with your confidence, you can bet yourself that mirror sex is going to be a frequent occurrence until you can get it into your head that you’re beautiful. He’ll force you to watch as he takes you, the only time he’ll have you from behind, and force you to repeat after him, ‘I am beautiful.’

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Hmm, for someone considered one of the many beautiful elves to exist, he sure does have a pretty package. Well endowed, not too thick or thin, just the right length and girth to smoothly enter without any discomfort and carries a gentle weight, so he feels just right. He’s a shower that has a few veins running along the surface with a pink tip that stands out. Finrod is incredibly proud of his appendage as it matches his good looks, allowing him to have both a pretty and well-endowed cock.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is quite low. He doesn’t crave sexual intimacy as much as you probably would, hence why he would invest in toys of all sorts for you, once he can access them. In the early days of your relationship as a newlywed, he would experience the same need to be as close to you as much as possible and spend more time behind closed doors, wanting to understand your body and bask in the joys of being newlyweds. But as time rolled on and the newlywed phase disappeared, so did his urge. Being dutiful to his people and with the ongoing war, his focus lies elsewhere. Perhaps twice to thrice a month, you two indulge to keep the flame burning.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a while to fall asleep due to his boundless energy. Leaving you after having a moment isn’t an act he enjoys since in his eyes, it makes him believe that he's using you, so he always stays. Most of the time, he’ll be the one awake while you’re curled up in his arms, fast asleep. Should you manage to have the energy to stay awake, some pillow talk would help to sedate him. Once he does drift into slumber, Finrod becomes a cuddler and a sleep talker. Softly murmuring your name as he snoozes and clings to you like a bear cub, he refuses to let you go the entire night.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @addaigio

#silm smut #finrod smut #finrod x reader #finrod imagine #finrod headcanon #finrod felagund #finrod ingoldo #finrod #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion headcanons #silmarillion smut #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanon #middle earth smut #house of finarfin #arafinweans #x reader smut #x reader insert #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[lovefairymina]

Glorfindel! My love! Just because I am on my period does not mean you must carry me everywhere! No I do not need to lay in bed all day!

“So don’t carry you around? Leave you alone? Give you space? Go away? That is what you want me to do?” he whines as he slowly and dramatically walks out of your room, pausing every second to turn around and sigh with fake tears in his eyes. “I’m leaving now. I’m walking out the door. Farewell.”

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

[cambion-companion]

Hugging the Elves (blorbos)

Elrond ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Elrond is a healer, of both body and heart. His home of Rivendell is where those blessed enough to gain entry find refuge for their spirit. Elrond would hug like a father comforting his child, he would wrap you into a secure embrace. He smells like familiar spices and fresh warm cloth as you bury your head against his shoulder. The long sleeves of his robes wrap around your body and offer solace under their weight. He will smile down at you gently, a fond crinkling around his eyes full of wisdom and starlight.

Glorfindel

Sunshine incarnate, Glorfindel's hugs are enthusiastic and don't be surprised if he lifts you into his arms and twirls you around once or twice, especially if he has been on errantry and not seen you for a while. His long golden hair would get in both your faces and he would laugh, bell-like, as he gently brushes it away. He smells of a fresh summer breeze carrying the light scents of flowers and evergreen trees as you press your cheek to his chest. I also see him as being fond of taking your face in his hands, enjoying looking into your eyes and reading your emotions there. When you are in need of comfort be assured Glorfindel will always be ready to offer you a warm embrace as you bask in his glowing presence. His very touch is enough to chase away any creeping darkness from your mind. (yes I am madly in love with him can you not tell)

Arwen

Arwen doesn't hug very many people, so when she opens her arms to you it is a gift indeed. She smells of lilac and midsummer nights spent by the lake under the stars. Her hair is as soft as goose-down and the gossamer of her sleeves slips between your fingers. She holds the back of your head lightly as you lean against her, closing your eyes and enjoying the feel of her chin tucked against your head. Arwen will also peer into your eyes, as they are windows to your soul, and give you a soft understanding smile before engaging you in light conversation and laughter.

Thranduil

(as a brief aside, I do not at all like the characterization of Thranduil in the movies as they turned him into King Thingol of Doriath who is much different in temperament. thus, this will be based on his book self)

Thranduil is regal and guarded, yet he has a warmth about him you have grown accustomed to receiving from the Elves. Like Arwen he does not embrace others readily, but will receive your affection with a broad smile and happy chuckle. His hands placed securely on your upper back as you lean against him, breathing in his scent of juniper berries and pine. This hug will be brief but meaningful and leave you feeling elated and refreshed. He will then invite you to dine with them and perhaps accompany his folk into the forest to dance and frolic to the sound of harpists and singing.

Legolas

Legolas is full of laughter and wit and will accept your hug with joy, squeezing you tight against him as he ruffles your hair about in an affectionate manner. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale the smell of leather and woodsmoke. He will hold you against him for as long as you wish, even rocking you side to side if you remain in his arms for long. When you do pull away Legolas will grasp your forearms and beam at you, making a witty comment, his countenance brightening when you laugh.

Finrod

(Yes, I have to include this golden boy)

The first among Elves to befriend humans, even the first to see them, Finrod has a special place in his heart for his mortal friends. He loves giving and receiving hugs and will wrap you in his arms readily and with reverence. His golden hair tickles your face and he laughs, looking down at you as you scrunch your nose at the sensation. Finrod smells of the ocean winds that form the waves and the carpet of moss that covers forest floors. He is Valinor mixed with Middle Earth, belonging to both and yet neither. There is a sadness to his grip as he brushes a stray hair from your face after you pull away. But as ever with his kin the sadness in his eyes swiftly turns over to mirth and he takes your hand before pulling you along with him to your next adventure.

let me know who else I should write these for!

#elf imagines #lotr elf imagine #finrod imagine #elrond imagine #legolas imagine #thranduil imagine #glorfindel imagine #arwen imagine #lotr imagine #silmarillion imagine #finrod #glorfindel #middle earth imagine #glorfindel x reader #thranduil x reader #legolas x reader #arwen x reader #finrod x reader #lord of the rings imagine #elrond x reader #middle earth headcanons

[ruiniel]

You said to send short asks, is it OK if for me to request a short ask about glorfindel and a female s/o relationship headcannons?

Totally cool if you don't!

Anon this is the very first ask I get for a Tolkien character x reader HC! *gasp* Thank you, whoever you are.

All right, this is with Third-Age-Glorfindel in mind...

CW: ever so slightly suggestive

Despite being well loved for reasons too many to count, Glorfindel warms up slowly to others on a personal level. When he does, the depth of his affection is boundless.

He often feels the burdening of Ages but hides it well beneath his mild disposition and a carefree outlook. With you in his life, it comes as a surprise that he resorts to that way of coping less and less.

He'll say, resting with you on a warm afternoon somewhere at the top of the valley, gazing at Rivendell from afar: "You... you are kindling." And he'll press your palm to his heart, so you understand.

When he returns from patrols in the wilderness, he will always get the bathing and changing over with as fast as he can, just so he can crawl into bed next to you. He'll rest with his head against your chest, sighing and tangling his legs with yours. The tightness of his hold is an expression of how much he missed this, sleepily murmuring words that send you into a fever.

And then he falls asleep.

The beautiful bastard.

When a full day of training, diplomacy or whatever else is done, you'll sometimes take refuge in your chambers; you adore the way his gaze mellows at the sight of you when Glorfindel joins, his dimpled smile a warming balm. If you're reading in an armchair, he'll shrug off his outer robe and plop down by your feet in nothing but his simple undertunic and leggings, hugging your legs and pressing his forehead against your clothed knees.

He knows you won't last long before you set the book aside, loves how you enjoy playing with that bright, silky hair of his. You hear low, contented sighs when your fingers tangle and bury themselves in his strands; he'll rub his cheek against your thigh in a languid, feline manner, smiling and breathing slowly to unwind.

He makes no great deal of it, but Glorfindel has a wonderful singing voice; he'll hum old Valinorean tunes for you in the mornings or during treks together through the surrounding woods, happily explaining their meaning and origin (some are satire, which makes it irreverently fun)

Glorfindel is a living flame. It's as though he was reembodied with powers and affinities especially designed to defy the manner of his untimely, traumatizing death. He has no nightmares of fire: he is one with it, now. His spiritual power vibrates against you in silver and gold, sending your nerves sizzling and your spirit in a swoon.

Even his body temperature rises to surprising intensity in certain special moments: you've come to crave that undulating warmth beneath his skin.

And oh, he's more than eager to oblige.

You were delighted to find that Glorfindel, Lord Glorfindel the warrior, actually can employ the finest of charms when he wants to (and is a horrible tease besides).

For all the positions of authority he's held throughout the centuries, this Elf simply loves it when you take the lead; sometimes even begs it of you. When you straddle him as he lies on his back, giggling and biting his lip at the pleasant weight of your body. When you pin him down by the wrists, look him in the eye and pant out your demands, telling him exactly what you need and where you need it.

He can tell, anyway, he always checks with you in thought.

He just loves hearing you say it.

Or moan it.

Sometimes, when he's exhausted or lost in you, he'll slip into Quenya, forgetting you don't understand a word of his mother tongue. But the sound of it is so alluring, so indescribably beautiful (especially in his voice), that you nearly moan from the mere whisper of it in your ear.

You've only ever experienced Glorfindel drunk once, on an occasion commemorating the old Gates of Summer festival. He was quiet that day, distant, barring your thought when you tried reaching him and often disappearing from sight, away from the others. You gave him space, and halfway through the silent watch of the night, left for rest.

No sooner did you change and was standing at the side of the bed than he appeared, closing the doors behind him and leaning against them, his gaze flickering with golden sparks in the dark. His step wavered only once as he slowly moved towards you, but you knew. You waited, looked on as he reached you, pressing one large palm to your chest and pushing so you fell onto the soft bed; you tasted hot wine on his tongue, understood, and held him tightly as he took frantic refuge into you.

#glorfindel x reader #glorfindel x you #more to be added #there's always more to be added #i mean it's HE #and I am weak #WEAK #ruiniel:fanfiction #x reader #glorfindel x oc #silmarillion x reader #lotr x reader #middle earth imagine

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Okay all I can think of is reader traveling to middle earth and this just being Gandalf 😂😂😂

#Gandalf #middle earth #middle earth imagine #lotr #lotr imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine

[eunoiaastralwings]

Heya Lovie , hope you're doing well😁

I'm obsessed with the idea that Maeglin didn't actually love Idril romantically and it was a rumour made to villainize him to cover up the fact her husband killed him ... I did see a post on it hence why I'm obsessed with it but your thoughts on that?

Second- Maeglin request please if you don't mind 😅 but my idea is a human comes to Gondolin for..whatever reason maybe a black Smith in training? And hence forth maeglin is assigned their mentor. But just said human trying to hide their feelings because insecurity is massive thanks to them gorgeous elves and their annoyingly good looks. I am liking the idea they're a male , even more reason to hide their feelings cause humans don't really accept gay relationships , specially in those times, so safe to assume that elves don't either (but they do thanks to love binds by the soul and not the body of said soul) so just fluff and some young love panic . I completely understand if you don't want to do the whole gay thing, gender neutral is perfect aswell. Take care 💕

Love Through Souls

featuring maeglin x male reader

fandom tolkien- the silmarillion

warnings ooc, shitty writing. . . and what not

a/n am sorry. . .

You carefully tried to do as Maeglin had instructed you - feeling a little nervous with every move. 

You hoped you weren’t too obvious on how you continuously looked at him.

It was because you couldn’t help yourself - from gazing at the tall and dark haired ellon in front of you.

He was assigned as your mentor the moment you show interest in smith work.

It was rather kind of king Turgon to take in your poor shivering human male soul from unkind lands. 

It was common knowledge that the wise king did let almost anyone into his hidden kingdom - to say you were lucky were an understatement.

“Careful!”

Maeglin ordered - keeping you away from the sparks that soared from the fire.

Your heart couldn’t help the involuntary leap it had done when he had put himself in between the fire and yourself - pulling you beside him as it soared.

Maeglin never ceased to mesmerize you everyday with skills and abilities as a smith.

It was rather both inspiring as well as mesmerizing - it had only made you fall deeper for him.

But sadly you knew the case - not only were you a human, but a male. . . besides the young prince had already set his sights on the princess of Gondolin.

She was rather beautiful with her long golden-like hair that seemed to sparkle and tint like of a jewel - and her eyes of deep blue could draw anyone in.

Not only herself - but every elleth and ellon present in your sights only made you question deeper about yourself.

You felt fat and frumpy in the sights of such beauty that left your eyes wide in wonder.

But out of all elves present - especially among the males of course - the only one that truly caught your attention had been Maeglin.

WIth his broody and silent nature - with sharp stares and careful gazes he managed to capture you in at once without taking too long.

You had not meant to fall for the ellon - you had known how humans alone in your village had felt about same sex couples.

Therefore - you could not even begin to think on how elves would react towards it.

So you kept it down - ignoring the hurt that caged your heart every time you spotted Maeglin’s eyes linger on Princess Idril.

But even as you did - everything he said or did, like for example now how he pulled you behind him to protect yourself from the fire - the more you fell and the harder it was for you to suppress your feelings towards him.

It was getting harder and harder day by day to be around him as he mentored you.

Therefore finally you had decided to let it go - for the sake of further humiliation and the ache of your heart you let go of your passion of smithing.

So Maeglin no longer needed to mentor you - and you no longer needed to face him every day.

Your hands delicately brushed over the small metal tag chain necklace you made - it had both your own name and Maeglin’s name carved on it.

It was something you made yourself - sure as you were still learning there were a few dents and misshapes but it was still worth it for you.

You had made it when Maeglin was away with king Turgon in his gardens and was not able to mentor you one day.

While it may never happen - at least you were free to dream about it right? 

Then suddenly your door slammed open - making you jump from the edge of the bed where you were sitting. You instantly hid the chain necklace.

If looks could kill you would be 10 feet under the ground right now - because of how Maeglin glared as he walked over to you.

He reached within milliseconds because of his long strides and you did not even have time to react.

“You could have knocked…”

You said quietly.

“I rather not have - considering how my student failed to attend his class today.”

Maeglin’s deep voice rumbled - making you shiver.

“I had informed the king I will no longer be attending smithwork.”

You said - looking at your feet.

“Yes - I’m aware you informed my ever wise uncle but you did not inform me - nor did you give him my uncle a valid reasoning - therefore I do not approve of you quitting!” 

Maeglin said.

It was the first time you had seen Maeglin react like so - usually he was quiet and reserved but this was like he was speaking before thinking like he usually does.

It means you had struck hard to make Maeglin mad enough to behave like so.

“I apologize for not coming to you. . .” 

You offered a straight heartfelt apology - keeping the chain necklace clasped in your hands and hidden behind you.

Maeglin looked surprised - even a soft red tinge appeared suddenly on his cheeks as he blinked and cleared his throat, looking both shameful and awkward.

“. . .Why have you quit?”

He asked instead - from the sound of his tone, it was easy to tell he had wondered about it too many times and had been trying to hide it. 

But emotions had been something Maeglin always struggled with - either he wouldn’t come to terms with something, or other times he never understood what they meant.

“I do. . . - I do not have the passion for it, no more. . .”

You sighed with a gulp - your hands clasping tighter around the necklace.

“I do not believe that for a second!”

Maeglin declared - making you shocked for a moment.

You only frowned at him.

Then Maeglin tried to peek behind you.

“What is it you hold behind you?”

Your eyes widened and your clasped the necklace tighter.

“Nothing of which concerns the matter.”

You tried to put out formally - then stepped backwards as Maeglin took a step towards you.

Maeglin narrowed his eyes - staring into your eyes as if debating on something in this mind.

This seemed to be the Maeglin you knew  - the one who was careful and calculated, who needed time to formulate his thoughts into words as he stared at the person he wished to speak with. 

Others found it uncomfortable - you did too at first - but later realized it was how he was able to function.

This time however - he swiftly reached behind you.

With this elvish swiftness you didn’t even have the time to react as he quickly grabbed the chain necklace off your hands and dangled it above your head reading engraving on it.

You gasped trying to reach for it - but Maeglin kept it away from your grasp.

“What is this?”

He asked incredulously.

Your heart couldn’t but beat painfully fast.

You managed to grab it back and turned away from him - he probably felt so disgusted.

Tears had pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Nothing!”

“Let me see. . .”

Maeglin offered - feeling awkward and guilty at the sight of your tears.

“No - you should leave. . .”

You whimpered.

Maeglin gulped.

“Please. . .Y/N - I did not mean to offend you. . .It does-”

“It does not matter, please leave. . .”

You said starting to cry, your heart aching.

Maeglin fisted and unfisted his hands - before he harshly turned away slammed your door shut behind him as you cried.

— — — 

It has been a week since the incident. You had been in the gardens - randomly walking thinking of what to do with your life since you already gave up your passion for smithing.

Then sooner or later become the gossip in the hidden city.

You had thought of leaving - but you knew yourself walking outside these borders was a death sentence in a literal format.

You sat near the fountain leaning against it.

It was no use crying - you already did that a few times, no point in wasting another round of tears that can’t help anything.

You leaned back further - when you suddenly felt something odd against your head.

You turned your head to see a chain necklace hanging off the edge of the fountain.

You frowned and took it in your hands softly.

There was a centre stone - pendent necklace - and it had been your birthstone.

Your frown only deepened - then you turned it as you felt something engraved in the back of it in Sindarin. 

You couldn’t understand it - but you obviously made out your name and Maeglin’s, making your eyes widen.

“From me to you, Y/N. Yours, Maeglin. . .”

Suddenly - you heard his name, making your head snap up at him.

Your eyes were still wide and unbelieving as Maeglin awkwardly shifting from one foot to another.

“May I sit?” 

He asked - when you didn’t respond.

You gulped and nodded.

Maeglin sat down close to you - sending you a disapproving gaze and looked so much like King Turgon’s scowl as you tried to scoot away. 

You sighed staying put.

Either of you spoke for a long time - simply staring ahead.

“You know. . .it is frowned upon. . .and perhaps even wrong. . .”

You bit your lip saying it.

“What is?”

Maeglin frowned.

“Two males. . .in a relationship. . .”

You struggled to stay.

Maeglin didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I have given it thought and I do not see any wrong in us. . .”

He tried to say.

But you shook your head.

“Mae. . .It is frowned upon. They will not accept it. We will be disowned, mocked and gossip.”

You softly said.

“Why do you think they will not accept? Humans do not accept this form of relationship?”

Maeglin frowned - some bit of fury in him rising.

“No. I presume the same for elves.”

You frowned.

“Sure. . .It may not be common and I have not seen another couple such as this. . . but Gondolin will accept us. . .”

Maeglin promised you.

“How?”

You frowned deeper.

“Because elves do not care for what body your lover is, meleth. . .we love and cherish through souls. . .that is love. . .and that is what my mother has taught me. . .”

He said quietly and softly - still having a hard time talking about his mother.

You blinked, sighing. You were scared that you will not lie about.

“Are you sure. . .they will not. . .”

You struggled to say the words.

“Trust me. . .”

Maeglin whispered and you nodded.

Then he leaned forward - pressing his lips against your lips calming the anxiety in your heart and soul. . .

Maeglin was right. . . this was love through the souls. . .

Taglist form

tara's taglist: @wandererindreams @fizzyxcustard @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @asianbutnotjapanese @floraroselaughter @mismaeve @bunson-burner

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

#maeglin x reader #maeglin imagine #maeglin #lomion #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion fic #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #house of the mole #lords of gondolin #gondolin #maeglin x male reader #eunoiawrites

[mai-artano]

Made for @floraroselaughter  ‘s WILD WEST AU (Law of the Lawless) you should definitely go check it out!

Outlaw Melkor because he is like that ;)

Key point - I still can’t draw horses :P

#silmarillion #melkor #morgoth #silm headcanons #law of the lawless #middle earth imagine #wild west au

[animatorweirdo]

The secrets we hide in the dark

You fell to the curse, but Maglor could not bring himself to lose you.

(Well, this was inspired by a conversation I had with Sunny. I attempted making Maglor going dark. If you’re not familiar the characters and the curse thing is from Frozen heart. Hope you enjoy)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, capturing the killer, depression, falling ill. This story will take a dark turn in the end so don’t expect anything good. 

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

Your fall started tragically. 

Maglor was walking you back home after a day of spending time together and serenading the newest songs he had written for you. You were smiling so happily while holding on to his arm, looking at him with such love-struck eyes.

His heart always fluttered when you gave those eyes, so he had no idea something could go wrong that night until you stopped and your face went pale. 

You smelled human blood coming from your home. 

He knew your curse allowed you to smell blood, so the thought of something terrible happening made you and him quicken your pace to check on your friend, Camilla, who was supposed to be at your home by the time. 

Oh, how he wished he had stopped you before you could open the door and see the terrible sight behind it. 

Your home was in a deep mess, no doubt as evidence of a struggle, and Camilla – she was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. 

She was bruised and had suffered several stab wounds to her chest. Her eyes were wide open, empty of life, and the moment Maglor laid his eyes on her, he knew it was already too late for her. She was gone. 

He could still remember how you stood quiet, slowly walking up to her with tears forming in your eyes before falling on your knees and holding on to her – whimpering and begging in denial. 

He felt your grief. He considered Camilla a friend, but seeing you like this broke his heart even further, and the best thing he could do was to hold you against his chest and mourn alongside you as you sobbed and cried in pain. 

Those sounds of grief still haunted his ears after the night passed, so he was determined to find the person responsible for Camilla’s death.

He used everything he had at his disposal to find the killer while trying to help you hold a funeral for Camilla. 

The news about the murder spread quickly. The people felt anxious to know that there was a killer on the loose, and some felt angry and sorrowful when they learned it was one of the well-known healers that got killed. 

Some of your and Camilla’s shared friends came to grieve with you and share their condolences for your loss. 

The day of Camilla’s funeral was a sorrowful day. Maglor helped you hold a funeral that followed her family’s traditions before finally sending her off in a pyre of flames, hoping her spirit would pass on to the afterlife peacefully. 

Maglor gave you time to grieve alone, and you stayed at the funeral site till it was late, and he had to fetch you back inside. 

He looked hard and wide. He wasn’t willing to give up until Camilla’s murderer was found and brought to justice. She had saved and healed many of his people, so he owed her at least that much. She was also your only family, so he could not forgive someone taking your only family away from you. 

Luckily, his search didn’t take too long. He caught the killer and made them confess to their crime. As it turns out, the person was a spy, and Camilla was at the wrong place at the wrong time, so they silenced her permanently.

Maglor was infuriated, so he made sure the spy was thrown into the deepest parts of the dungeon and punished accordingly for their crimes. 

The news of the killer’s capture eased his people’s minds with relief since it meant the danger was over. 

He hoped it would cheer you up when he told you he caught the killer, and Camilla’s spirit could finally rest in peace. However, you barely gave any reaction. You looked tired after grieving for so long, so he didn’t say much when you simply thanked him and returned to your home without much thought. 

Maglor was worried for you, but he figured you needed some time alone, so he left you be in your time of grief. 

Oh, how he wished he had done something than let you be alone. 

He hoped you would be alright since some of your friends checked on you occasionally, but then he heard you had become more absent and secluded from others. It was becoming so concerning that your friend Faye sought him out. 

She told him you barely came outside, laid in bed all day, and barely ate. She thought it would be best for him to check on you because there was a high chance you were in a state of sadness which is almost similar to fading. 

Maglor was terrified to hear that, so he decided to check on you after dealing with his duties. 

He came to your home and became even more concerned when you didn’t respond to the door. Since the door was locked, he used a spare key you hid in a secret container behind a tiny painting next to the door and walked in. 

He found you on your bed, curdled up and covered like you were trying to hide from the world around you. 

It took him a moment to convince you to uncover and talk to him. When you sat on your bed, your hair was a mess, and your eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. It was a painful sight to Maglor, but he tried his best to comfort you as you continued to cry. 

You and Camilla had been together ever since her family took you in. You two were technically sisters. She looked after you and was determined to find a way to break your curse. You didn’t know what to do now that she was gone, and you had no idea how to handle your grief. It was like a part of yourself died with her, and you felt more alone than ever. 

Maglor was heartbroken to hear such words from you, so he tried to visit you often to look after you. 

He tried to comfort you, help you eat a bit more, and sometimes he even stayed the night to play songs he knew helped you sleep better. You started to show some promise in recovering, but then you were struck by an illness. 

Your skin turned pale each day, and you were constantly cold and shaking. You had to sit next to the fire to feel any warmth. 

Your appetite was decreasing since you started to vomit everything you had eaten. You couldn't even hold water in for long periods of time before vomiting it out. 

Maglor figured it must have been your curse that was making you ill, so he read all Camilla’s books and attempted to make the medicine for you. However, your body even rejected the very thing that could heal you. 

He then knew your condition was more severe than he thought since you needed the medicine to subdue the curse.  If you don’t, you will slowly succumb to the curse and become a horrid creature that feasts on flesh. 

Maglor became desperate to cure you and help you get better. He tried making all the concoctions and medicines he could find in Camilla’s books. Anything to slow down the curse, but your body rejected everything he gave you. 

It was already too late when your eyes turned blue, and you were in agony. 

He knew you were beyond saving when he looked into those blind blue eyes. According to Camilla's books, it was too late if your eyes turned white or blue. You become blind, your hunger will take over your instincts, and nothing can stop it. You’ll become a ferocious creature known as the wendigo. 

You begged him to end your life. You couldn't see anymore, and your body felt like something was clawing you from the inside. It was agonizing, so you begged him to end your suffering and burn your body. You couldn’t handle the pain anymore. 

Something within him broke when you begged him to do such a thing. He never wanted to imagine being the one to end your life and burn your corpse just because he couldn’t save you. He should do it so your curse wouldn't live on after you died, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

You were his beloved, the best thing that happened to him after years of suffering the consequences of the oath. He couldn’t possibly do such a thing to you. No. He couldn’t. He absolutely could not. However, he knew you didn’t want to live as a monster and hurt others. He had seen what the wendigo could do, and many would end up hurt if he didn’t find a way to contain you. And lucky for him, he knew a place where he could hide you and ensure it would not happen. 

Against better judgment, he took you away. 

He took you far beneath the dungeons of Himring into the hidden caves where even the rats can’t escape. It used to be a prison for criminals where they would eventually die in the passing of time, and no one would remember them. Now, it would be your temporary home. No one would know you are here. You will be safe and hurt no one. 

Maglor placed you on soft cushions he brought to the caves beforehand, so you would have a comfortable place to rest and sleep. He gently brushed strands of your hair behind your ear, watching how your frozen blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark and how the misty breaths escaped your mouth. He gave you one last kiss on the forehead before slowly walking away. 

You quickly realized something was wrong when you heard the cave around you and Maglor’s footsteps becoming distant. 

“Maglor, what are you doing? Please, don’t leave me alone here,” you whimpered as you heard him walk away. “Please… please … please, don’t let it take me!” you screamed at him. Your voice mixed with pain and anger. 

Maglor felt his heart throb painfully and wished nothing more than comfort you, but he convinced himself he was doing the right thing and closed the door behind him, leaving you in the darkness. 

And that was the last time you ever talked to him. 

It was wrong for him to do such a thing and tell your friends that you had simply moved away after they noticed your disappearance. He should have respected your wishes and done what was necessary. Camilla would have scorned him if she knew what he had done. But, you got better after some time. 

You were no longer ill or hurting. You even started eating well. You don’t talk much as before, but you were no longer cold or in pain. So, he must have done the right thing. 

The dark-haired elf walked down the sturdy stairs, holding a torch and a rabbit he obtained from his hunting trip. Rabbits were your favorite. 

Blue flowers grew around the path and the stones. They were flowers that grew in your presence. They were lovely to look at and had an exotic scent. He did not mind them since they made the cave feel lively and a bit more welcoming. 

He arrived at a familiar metal barred door and used the key to open it. He crouched down to untie the rabbit from the ropes. His ears picked up subtle yet quiet growling in the dark. You were hungry again. 

He picked up the rabbit and looked into the dark room. He swiftly tossed the rabbit into the room, watching it bounce on the stone floor before stopping at an opening. 

A hand came out of the darkness, snatching the rabbit in a blink of an eye. The rabbit vanished from Maglor’s field of view, and soon the cave was filled with sounds of bones breaking and flesh ripped apart. He closed the door and made sure to lock it. He then sat down and listened. You sounded content with your dinner, so he was happy. 

He missed the sound of your voice, but you were alive and well. It made him feel even more right about his decision to bring you here and let you live. You were upset with him upon your first days of change, but you soon calmed down when he brought you fresh meat and played music to fill the silence. 

He was looking after you, so everything was alright. He will bring you food, play songs and ensure you don’t accidentally hurt anyone since it would upset you. Yes, as long as you stay here, everything will be alright. After all, he was always willing to keep you and your secret safe.

#maglor x reader #maglor #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #silm fic #tolkien #dark #middle earth x reader #middle earth #dark maglor #maglor imagine #silmarillion imagine #middle earth imagine

[doodle-pops]

House of Fingolfin | Being In An Arranged Marriage With Them

A/N: This takes place in Valinor, in a no–darkening verse and arranged marriages are common traditions among the elves. By now, I'm considering this an AU within the Silm verse with all the ideas that’s been swimming in my mind after writing each headcanon (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Warnings: feelings of neglect and loneliness, resentment, disputes, there is some comfort, angst because it's an arranged marriage

Arranged Marriage AU: Arafinweans ver.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingolfin

Fingolfin strongly resents being told what to do. However, if complying benefits his family and upholds his royal status as an exemplar for princes, he will reluctantly follow through. In this context, he would have no significant objections to an arranged marriage.

He genuinely believes in his father’s good intentions and considers his mother’s agreement as final. Fingolfin would attentively attend the meeting, listening to the criteria and rationale for the arrangement while occasionally glancing at your disheartened expression.

Initially, he might struggle to comprehend why you don’t view the situation as a win–win, given that you’re marrying a prince and about to enjoy a luxurious lifestyle. The notion of being forced into this or having a lover only dawns on Fingolfin when his younger brother or a friend brings it up.

He’s determined to make the relationship work and hopes you won’t be confrontational or resist connecting with each other. Your reluctance to make things work is a source of frustration for him, but his pride prevents him from complaining to others.

But it is important to keep in mind that as much as he’s fighting you to make this work, he is respectful of your boundaries and personal space.

“I may have been slow to realise your reservations about the arrangement, but may I ask that you at least attempt not to distance yourself when all I want is for this to go smoothly? Yes, we will be married soon, but I’m not suggesting a romantic involvement, just a basic level of cooperation to ease the tension, please.”

He’s eager to make the arrangement a success because he sees it as essential for his role as a prince and a way to outshine his older brother. In Fingolfin’s perspective, this is a competition, albeit unfortunate for you.

You must assert that for this relationship to work, it shouldn’t be a platform for competition or jealousy, but rather something mutually beneficial and meaningful. You seek a partner you can rely on and trust, while he desires a confidant.

Despite the challenges, you enjoy a royal lifestyle with extravagant parties, balls, and dinners, access to the finest materials and food, a luxurious house designed to your liking, and any other desired indulgence. Fingolfin explicitly mentions that the house was created with your preferences in mind in hopes of ensuring some form of comfort is achieved.

An added benefit of the relationship is Fingolfin’s trust in your abilities as a mediator and leader. As a means to enhance communication, he gradually opens up and seeks your advice in the hopes of strengthening the arrangement.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingon

Initially, when the news was broken to him, Fingon found it all rather amusing. He doubled over and laughed in his father’s face, thinking it was some kind of joke. It took a while for the seriousness of the situation to sink in, and he soon realised that this was no laughing matter. Fingon is a free–spirited individual who believes in choosing when to marry, not never for political reasons, as was the case in this instance.

When you’re in the room, Fingon prefers to keep his anger in check and maintain a pleasant demeanour, as he doesn’t want to frighten you. He’s well aware that you had no say in this decision, and his father is the only one he has an issue with.

The sorrowful look on his face when he meets your eyes is heart–wrenching, as both of you are victims of politics. Despite the circumstances, he does his best to shield you from the harsh reality and maintain the illusion of a simple friendship.

Among all his siblings and his father, Fingon is undoubtedly the most agreeable elf to be married to. Despite his inner turmoil and his father’s constant pressure to make the relationship work, he remains cheerful and amiable in your company, ensuring your comfort throughout the entire engagement.

However, in the early days of the marriage, he was the complete opposite of his usual self, largely due to your reserved nature. He was distant and mostly silent as he grappled with controlling his temper, trying to figure out how to make the relationship work.

If he’s going to be your husband against his will, he’s determined to be the best one you could hope for. Do you require your space? You got it. Do you not wish to see or speak to him? He’ll respect it. Do you want him to stop pretending that everything’s perfect? You’ll get that as well, although it may not be what you expect.

“You might be expecting me to shout, scream, or completely ignore you. I couldn’t bring myself to do any of that, though, as it’s not how my mother raised me to behave when I’m dissatisfied... I understand that you see through the façade I put up; it’s mostly to get my father off my back. But it’s not an act when I’m around you.”

Count on Fingon to make your forced marriage bearable and tolerable. He alleviates the typical anxiety associated with arranged marriages by filling it with unconditional love, support, appreciation, and trust. He never lets the burden fall on you and always stands by your side, ready to defend you.

One thing he won’t tolerate is anyone belittling your role as his spouse, whether it’s from your family or his. He respects your choices and ensures that you’re comfortable before engaging in anything personal.

Fingon never rushes you into anything uncomfortable and allows you to make decisions, trusting your judgment and revealing his vulnerability. He sees this as a hopeful approach to overcoming the arranged marriage label that hangs over your heads.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Turgon

Even if it were his father delivering the news that an arranged marriage was necessary to uphold the family name, Turgon was on the verge of overturning a table and vanishing before his father could reveal your name. However, Turgon knew he wouldn’t get far before being compelled to return home and address the situation.

It was the gloomiest atmosphere in recent memory when he was in the room, glaring at your presence as you entered with your family. The whole ordeal made him feel nauseous, especially when he observed how supportive his mother was in the matter.

Turgon didn’t speak or acknowledge your existence. If you were residing in your preexisting home, you both slept in separate quarters. He even made an effort to become familiar with your schedule to ensure you didn’t cross paths because he wanted to avoid giving the impression of any interest in making things work.

It felt like living alone with a brooding spectre who constantly muttered under his breath as though he was casting a spell. He was quick to anger and often directed his frustration at everyone around him, not just his and your parents. Congratulations, you were arranged to someone who unjustly blamed you.

Like his cousins, you had to assert yourself and demand respect, forcing your voice above his constant grumbling.

“Listen, I’ll make this clear just once, so don’t make me repeat myself. Stop blaming me and direct your frustrations at my parents and yours. We’re in this together whether we like it or not—so accept it and put an end to the complaining, just like I did. We’re going to make this work—we don’t have to share a bed or be best friends, but we should find common ground and understanding. I won’t accept ‘no’ as an answer, as it’s proven to be pointless, so stop whining and work with me!”

You earned his respect because no one had the audacity to confront him like that without fearing his explosive anger. From that day on, there was a subtle change in the household routine, like not avoiding your schedules and sharing the same space (excluding the bedroom).

Any attempts at conversation were initiated by you, and you had to strain your ears to catch his mumbled responses. When it came to public appearances, he was as stiff as a board and communicated sparingly.

However, it was his instinct to defend you and his family if anyone made disrespectful comments about your situation. That was something for him and you to contemplate, not for others to meddle in, so someone would be put in their place. That night, you saw the most emotion from him apart from his temper.

An incident like that brought you both a step closer to displaying your emotions and feelings, particularly your protectiveness toward him. As simple as it may seem, he wanted to know about your day and if anyone insulted you when you were out. It was a step in the growth of your relationship.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Argon

Argon is fucking bewildered and struggling to comprehend the situation because he’s still a young individual being informed of an arranged marriage he never wanted. He responds with profanity and loud protests until his father intervenes to calm him down.

He despises every moment of it, particularly when he recalls how his cousins and brothers were subjected to the same process. He can’t believe he’s in the same situation despite his strong desire to find love on his own. Even if you were present in the room, his anger blinds him to your concern.

For days to weeks, you two may not exchange words, with occasional glances and stares being the only form of communication. Even after the marriage, he only engages in minimal conversation, ensuring your well–being and comfort in the shared space, though his tone is often filled with bitterness.

Initially, your marriage feels like cohabitating with a mere housemate, as your interactions are limited to household chores. Meaningful conversations based on your interests are virtually non–existent. It would take significant time and effort before either of you musters the courage to address the awkward silence in the house, ideally during breakfast.

“May I speak? No, it’s not about breakfast; it’s about us. We’ve been living like roommates for months, hardly even acquaintances. All we do together is eat and do chores. I know you’re still upset about this arrangement—so am I—but I’d appreciate it if we could replace this white noise with something resembling friendship. We’re already living together, so we’re past the stage of being strangers.”

Argon is genuinely sorry to discover that you desire more meaningful interactions rather than distance, which he had assumed. Your first breakthrough occurs when you jest about his misinterpretation of your gestures, breaking the awkward silence with a touch of Argon’s playful nature.

Following in the footsteps of his eldest brother, he emulates his gestures in the hopes of fostering a deeper connection. Although his emotions make him eager and impulsive, he doesn’t want you to bear the blame for his dissatisfaction.

Eventually, a level of vulnerability emerges in your discussions, allowing both of you to overcome this significant turning point in your lives. More joy and laughter infuse the household as you both express your opinions, views on the situation, and expectations for the future. Given his youth and the wealth of advice he’s received on arranged marriages, he engages in meaningful conversations to ensure you share the same expectations.

He has no intention of subjecting you to the mistreatment that others might inflict on their spouses, placing trust in you and expecting the same in return. For the majority of your marriage, despite lingering awkwardness, you manage to build a friendship with someone who is open and respectful.

Masterlist

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#arranged marriage au #house of fingolfin #fingolfin #fingon #turgon #argon #fingolfin x reader #fingon x reader #turgon x reader #argon x reader #fingolfin headcanon #fingon headcanon #turgon headcanon #argon headcanon #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion headcanons #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanons #middle earth scenario #nolofinweans #fingolfin imagine #fingon imagine #turgon imagine #argon imagine #x reader angst #x reader insert #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[doodle-pops]

House of Feanor | Having A Human S/O

Request: Can i request a feanorian group headcannon about having a human lover? — @misfortunateleprechaun

A/N: I couldn’t resist including a short reader in the mix because I know most of us are tiny beside these elves :)

Fëanor

Curious to learn all there is about you. Whether you’re naturally short, how you age, your life span, your features, culture, linguistics, everything, you name it. And when he does, it pushes for him to become even more intrigued with YOU.

Wants to follow you around as much as possible. Just picture a short you and a giant elf nearly 8ft trailing behind you asking millions of questions or silently observing you in your natural world.

Understands that humans are delicate and much more breakable than elves, so he treats you with the same care as he does for his jewels. You are fragile and deserve the utmost protection and care.

With that being said, you are not spared from being blessed with the great riches he is endowed with. Showers upon showers of gifts bestowed to make your mortal lifespan enjoyable and full of luxuries.

An enjoyment of his would be your vast size difference, as would all the elves when you lie, sit or walk beside him. Even when he needs to make jewellery, he marvels at the sizes and concludes that you are no larger than an elfling.

He will keep to himself knowing how you react when being compared to an elf child…or he might mention it because he enjoys your responses and phrases unheard of to elven ears.

Feanor takes great pride in having you as his S/O and accepts no criticism from anyone. He adores you with every fibre of his being and will worship the ground you walk on.

Maedhros

“Why are you so tiny, unlike other mortals I have come across?” That would be words spoken to himself upon meeting you because he’s already a freaking giant. It’s worse when you must stand on objects to meet this over-eight-foot-tall figure.

Holds out his hand and watches as you wrap your entire hand around two of his fingers. He has to bite his lip to hold back the laughter, because you attempt to guide him, and it looks like a child leading him off to Eru knows where.

Prefers when you sleep on his chest while (awake) he reads or relaxes on the balcony. Never allows you to close when you’re sharing the same bed and he’s sleeping. Do you want to go flying through a window with one of his kicks? You’re fragile babes, sleep on the floor.

Deep down, he believes that you deserve a lover who doesn’t have to place a restrain on everything they’re doing to prevent hurting you…physically. Play fights are a thing that happens rarely because you once knocked your own hand on the bedpost, and he blamed himself for forgetting your fragility.

With that being said, he gets worried about you when you accidentally injure yourself because you’re a mortal…soft, squishy and delicate. Please, don’t make him wrap you in the duvets like a burrito for your safety.

Since your lifespan is shorter than his, Maedhros’ main goal is to in ensure as much peace can be granted in your life. Takes you to the most scenic places around Beleriand or just nearby Himring and keeps you far away from his brothers, minus Maglor. Gives you a Shetland pony to ride for the kicks of it and watches as you fold.

He doesn’t seem to understand how you joke so easily about ageing and grimaces every time you crack a joke about your soon-to-be wrinkled appearance or increased fragility. You’re set to give him the heart attack instead of you.

Loves to compare your size to an elfling and jokes about having to purchase ready-made clothes in the children’s section for you.

Maglor

Humoured by your size and delicacy, and equally motherly as Maedhros. Henning over every little accident with a read-to-scold expression on his face and incoherent words spilling out his mouth about needing to cover you from head to toe.

Maglor adores your compliments when he sings for you or writes sonnets or poems. He understands that his species differ greatly from humans, hence his voice would sound ethereal to your ears, sparking grand praises. It tickles his ego and spurs him into never-ending songs because he lives for your praises.

Adores carrying you around because you’re as light as a feather and he could lift you with his pinkie finger. Sit on his shoulders, piggyback rides, cling to his legs or chest as he walks around his fort and ignores all the strange looks his servants are giving him.

He’s someone who respects humans and mortal life, so at no point would he ever allow you to feel insignificant compared to his elven nature. Hates to hear you ill-speak your mortality or even condemn the relationship to failure because of your differences.

Still hesitant when it comes to playfighting and unlike a certain brother, he wouldn’t scold himself for your injury. However, he would still engage and quickly dissolve everything to cuddles or a nap.

Sleep atop his chest and he’ll fawn because you look so tiny and feel weightless. One time you both fell asleep, however, Maglor forgot you were sleeping on his chest (because you’re so light), so when he rolled, you fell right off the bed.

Surprisingly cool with your human ageing jokes, especially the wrinkly potato ones. Sometimes he’ll cruise in with an affectionate joke to make you swoon about being his favourite potato.

Celegorm

It takes a long time to get it into his head that you’re delicate because, in his mind, he saw you performing hundreds of daredevil stunts, why stop the fun for safety purposes. Wherever Tyelko is, you are curled up under his arm like a sleeping bag being carried around on his adventure.

If he’s riding a horse large enough to carry an elf, then so are you—doesn’t matter if you’re four or five feet. If you fit, you sit. However, you prefer to ride Huan because he understands your comfort and safety more than Tyelko does.

Playfighting to the roughness degree and be prepared to end up in the healer’s room sporting bruises or a sprained joint, he’ll even lie down on you. He has an affinity for challenging you to your limits, solely because it’s thrilling to him. “Try lifting me off the bed and walking to the door.” (you collapsed under his beefy body)

As big and scary as he appears, start coughing or having a fever and watch as he crumples like a left. Clingy and never leaves your side the entire duration you’re resting or in the healer’s room.

Acts as though you’re going to die in the blink of an eye from a single sneeze and the next thing you know, he’s praying that you survive your common cold when the healers have informed him that you’re alright.

In addition, he’s the perfect teddy bear for a cold night with all those muscles he has going on. The issue is his ability to cuddle to the highest degree. You cannot escape his cuddle grip, even if you need to pee.

Tyelko has confidence that’s out of this world, so no one can attempt to shun or berate your relationship, not even mock him for choosing a human to be his S/O over an elf. Celegorm makes it clear that you’re his choice and he’s proud to have you.

Caranthir

Someone who admires you day by day and how easily you overcome obstacles without lamenting the way his race does. For a human, you are quite fiery and able to keep up with his pace of living, though he prefers that you relax while he lavishes you.

Vocal about his appreciation towards you in private as you lay in his chambers on the sofa or bed, cuddling. Like his siblings, he prefers that you lay atop him, refusing to even displace an ounce of weight for fear of crushing you.

Spoils you, spoils you, spoils you more than you could even imagine because he wants your life to be filled with comfort and luxuries before your end. Complaining about how much he spoils you is like kicking a puppy.

The only thing you cannot do is tear this elf away from his duties when he’s locked away in his studies deciding who to conduct his next trade with. He’s married to his work and then you.

This brings me to you easily clinging to his body because you wish for him to stay in bed longer. All he does is roll his eyes at your antics and continue to walk around the room while you disguise yourself as a backpack.

Sneeze and there’s a deafening silence that follows before a grumpy Caranthir paces out of the room to call for the healers. You are not permitted to go anywhere, basically bedroom arrest. You want water, food, more blankets; he’s there. Want to go for a walk, sure; he’ll walk you around the room.

As much as he admires your resilience as a human being to the harsh reality of life, many of your natural occurrences terrify him due to rumours of terrible endings for others. So, expect the protectiveness to go up a few notches.

Curufin

Everyone was surprised that he had a human lover when he strolled into a ball with you decked out in jewellery from head to toe. Poor you were trying to breathe under the weight of the gemstones breaking your neck.

Curufin isn’t any different in my dating him headcanons with the addition of his protectiveness increasing. He loves to use it as an excuse to tag along with you anywhere when he really wants to spend time together (what a tsundere).

Finds himself confused at all your human terminologies because how can “Break a leg” or “Knock ‘em dead” mean best of luck. “You humans are strange with your words, why can’t you just say what you mean.” – Curufin

Finds your excitement and expressive manner endearing given elves’ lack of facial expressions and enjoys bestowing all sorts of gifts upon you just to witness your reactions. He finds them better than the simple use of words when accepting his creations.

Less inclined to school you like his father, but still peppers you with indirect questions to learn more about humans and their odd differences from elves. If you’re female, then be prepared to blow his mind with talks of your menstruation. He considers you a brave warrior for going through that every month.

Curufin doesn’t like talks of how your lifespan is short and you’re bound to die soon, and you tend to use this to your advantage when you want your way.  “But what if tomorrow doesn’t come, and I don’t get to eat chocolate cake? You should let me eat it now, so you don’t regret not letting me.”

 (Tries) Keeps you away from Tyelko because he’s a terrible influencer and causes the majority of your injuries which sends Curufin into cardiac arrest. If Curufin has never shown much emotion in his life, it was the moment he learnt that you were in the healing rooms.

Amrod

Excited because he has someone to love him, but heartbroken about your shortened lifespan, which means he’s going to cram all his years of adventure into your lifespan so it can be shared with you.

Every morning, he walks you up with a brilliant smile as warm as the sun before dragging you out of bed to go hiking or host a breakfast picnic while the sun rises (sorry if you hate waking up early).

You are not spared from his pranks or the confusion between him and his twin when Amras decides to trick you. Aware that you are human and more breakable than elves, but he’s still going to engage in roughhousing or lying half his body atop yours so you cannot go anywhere.

As I had mentioned before, he’s touch–starved being the youngest bunch in the family with less attention being directed. So when you entered the picture, as a human, it was natural for you to be overly affectionate which stunned him. Never before had Amrod believed that he was capable of receiving so much love.

He doesn’t care about the fact that elves aren’t physically affectionate, he accepts every hug, kiss and touch you gift him. He considers them your greatest gift, second to finding you.

Already protective of his younger brother, so it’s natural when you enter the picture. Prefers being your bodyguard so he can spend every second with you, never allowing for there to be a moment when you aren’t together.

I have mentioned that he’s into woodcarving, so you can expect figurines of you and him (more you) to appear before your door in beautifully wrapped boxes. You have a collection by now and can consider it a hobby thanks to Amrod.

Amras

Prefers to spend all his time with you in tranquillity and away from his nosy and noisy family, including his twin who doesn’t understand the concept of personal space and attempts to chaperone each date.

The realisation of you being human doesn’t sink in for a long while because he’s pleased that he has someone whom he can love. Amras will be spending his dates surrounded by nature.

Waterfalls, hiking trails, rivers, ponds lakes or fields of flowers, you have seen it all in your human lifespan. Places you didn’t believe existed or could be viewed by the naked eye would be revealed to you.

Amras is more open to receiving affection from you and enjoys the lavish amounts you shower him in. He is stunned by the volume that humans are capable of delivering and how dependent they are on physical touch.

Like his brothers, Amras will shower you with tons of gifts, especially handcrafted ones. He is skilled in crocheting and competes with his brother for who can make the best look-alikes of their family. In between, you can expect to receive stuffed animals or a miniature of yourself.

Reaches out to his elder brother, Maedhros and Maglor for advice on how to date a human since they’re more aware of mortal mannerisms than him. It’s a cute sight to witness as Amras practices learning your mannerisms and culture so he can help you feel at home.

His major concern is ensuring that your time spent with him was the best years you’ve ever had in your entire life, and he was able to fulfil many of your wishes in the short space of time granted to you.

Celebrimbor

Tyelpё would like to know what he has done to inherit a significant other in the first place. Forget that you’re human, he wants to know how you can choose a person like him after the history of bloodshed his family has left.

Like any normal relationship, he’s doing his best to control his temper and be as patient as possible. He would hate to make you go running for the hills with a terrible slip-up.

Eyes of a hawk at your every move, wanting to learn as much as possible with the stark differences between you in particular and him. He’s already aware of how indifferent elves and humans are, it’s just to learn your netiquettes and mannerisms.

Like his father, you will be gifted tons of jewellery—it’s his love language—with your neck breaking under the weight of the gems. Tyelpё adores seeing you decked out and looking like a disco ball; you’re his mannequin for his pieces.

As one who spent years in the forge, he’s far from small and will crush you under his weight. Thus, he’s cautious when cuddling or any form of play fighting. The last thing he needs to hear is that he injured you from his bulky muscles.

Please hold his hands and let him fawn over the size difference. You’re only able to hold two of his fingers when tugging him about the place when you’re eager to show him something.

Did someone say standing on chairs to meet his height? Yes, that is exactly what you would have to do because he’s a giant eight-foot elf. Or even parading around in his long robes pretending to be him? Yes.

Protective to a degree, but not as overprotective as his uncles since it’s the second age and let’s assume that our buddy hasn’t shown up yet to ruin the peace. Tyelpё will gladly allow you to roam freely without worrying about your safety tremendously and would even request that you return with treats.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @a-tong @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

#house of feanor #feanor x reader #maedhros x reader #maglor x reader #celegorm x reader #curufin x reader #caranthir x reader #amrod x reader #amras x reader #celebrimbor x reader #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanons #silmarillion headcanons #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #x reader insert #x reader fluff #feanor #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #amrod #amras #celebrimbor #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[doodle-pops]

Turn Back the Sands of Time

Feanor x daughter!reader

Request: Can I request a fic for Feanor, coming back to Valinor after hia death, finding out Nerdanel had been pregnant when he left and she gave birth to a daughter. And if possible, this daughter has Miriel's sewing gift. – anon

A/N: I took a different route to how their interaction would occur and made this quite sentimental than I intended :)

Warnings: female reader, soft angst, softness and comfort, reconciliation

Words: 2.4k

Synopsis: With the return of your father to the Blessed Realm, an attempt at rekindling what was never forged, is pursued.

“Leaving so early?”

Your mother’s voice reverberated through the morning air, clear yet carrying a stern undertone. The sun had ascended over the hills and forest, casting its benevolent warmth upon the damp, fertile earth, coaxing the crawlies to retreat to their hidden abodes.

Startled by her sudden intrusion, you jerked in surprise, twisting your neck to find your mother positioned in the doorway. Her hands firmly rested on her hips, already adorned with small flecks of clay and dust. A hasty bun confined her hair, and she wore the familiar work coveralls that marked her dedication to the tasks at hand. “Oh, you gave me a fright!” you awkwardly chuckled, your attention momentarily diverted from the contents of your basket. “I’m... heading out.”

Her bare feet made no sound on the polished floorings as she traversed the distance, positioning herself beside you. With keen observation, she watched as you hastened your packaging, attempting to conceal the contents within the basket. Despite your efforts, you weren’t as clever as you believed. However, she remained silent, extending her left hand to rest against your waist. Leaning in, she placed a tender kiss on your cheek.

“At least be safe on the road. You can borrow a few of my cloaks, they’ll keep you warm, and good luck. I cannot tell you how to decide, but when you do, know that it is something you will have to live with.”

Suddenly, she vanished through the backdoor, setting you on the arduous path to Formenos after brief stops at Tirion’s market to procure supplies. Pastries, breads, salted meats, and fruits were gathered in an attempt to ease any potential awkwardness.

Alone on the road for five days, you revisited regions where you had once stealthily ventured. The surroundings were steeped in familiarity as you leisurely strolled by. The rhythmic clopping of your horse’s hooves on the gravelled road, the subtle rustling of trees and bushes, vast open fields where the wind hummed its tune, and the delightful symphony of birdsong and frog croaks accompanied your journey. Small creatures scurried at the feet of your horse, some perching on your shoulders or head. Nightfall descended, only to be swiftly replaced by the break of day, marking the conclusion of your expedition.

As you arrived at your destination, the wear and tear on the landscape became evident. Paint had faded, stones were missing from pillars and posts, wood showed signs of decay, and windows lay shattered. Face-to-face with the relentless march of time and the scars of neglect, you confronted the tangible evidence of one’s transgressions.

Dismounting from your majestic stallion, you carefully secured him to an apple tree before continuing on foot. The path led you through a gateway and into a garden adorned with a subtle array of colours—some signs of life still blossoming. Your keen eyes noticed the adjustments since your last visit, becoming attuned to the intense presence and weight that the surroundings now bore.

With each step, the gravel and dust beneath your sandals resonated against the cobblestone, creating a symphony of soft crunches until you abruptly halted before the colossal red door, proudly displaying the house sigil in shimmering gold. Tightening your grip on the basket and assuming a more composed posture, a sense of tension gripped your throat, akin to barbed wires constricting around it.

Summoning your courage, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing three times in tandem with the palpitations of your heart.

Initially, it seemed like no one was home, but an imposing presence lingered in the air, prompting you to raise your hand for another attempt. However, before your knuckles could make contact, the hinges groaned, and a towering figure emerged. A giant of an elf with fiery red hair and silvery eyes loomed before you, meeting your tentative gaze. While a hunch suggested his identity, he was not the person you had come to meet. An acute observation of his appearance left you trembling at your core.

His features were the same as the portraits hung in your mother’s workshop, a stark difference to the descriptions your uncle Arafinwë explained. There were no scars, missing ligament or whitening of his hair, but it was still enough to elicit fright in your bones. The stories were enough, running their course to remind all of his actions.

“No trespassing, this is private property. Whatever business you are conducting, take it elsewhere,” he muttered under his breath with emptiness in his eyes before shuffling to slam the door in your face.

Luckily, you stuck your hand out. “Wait, please don’t! I uh…” you fumbled and exhaled, “I came to speak with Lord Fëanáro. Is he in?”

“If you are here to lay blame on him for his actions, I would suggest that you get in line—”

Waving your hands frantically in his face, you panicked. “No, no, no, no! You have it all wrong. I’m not here for that; I’m here to simply speak with him.”

“Speak with him?” Maedhros meditated. “Did King Arafinwë send you?”

Your eyes widened in disbelief at the surprising intensity with which your own brother reacted to your simple desire to speak with his father. It was truly perplexing that, despite all that had transpired, he continued to share living quarters with Fëanáro. Your assumption that their relationship had soured after recent events was swiftly proven incorrect.

Clearly, his perspectives on Fëanáro differed significantly from yours, and he held personal convictions that he preferred to keep to himself. The intricacies of their business remained shrouded in mystery.

“Uncl—King Arafinwë did not send me, I sent myself,” you stated with pride, straightening out any fears in your posture and stretching a confident smile across your lips. “Can you tell him that a…a Lady Y/N is here to speak with him?”

The moment your name fell past your lips, you saw the micro-expression of your brother’s eyes widening before composing themselves. His stance changed from no longer blocking the entire doorway to standing aside and granting you a peek inside. You were half expecting him to make a scene, yet he proved otherwise.

Maedhros’ eyes fluttered and flickered around your frame, contemplating on his next decision. Exhaling, he stepped outside, shutting the door behind and ushered around you figure to the left of the house. “He’s situated on this side of the house. It’s quicker and less…obstructive. Follow me.” And you partially understood what he meant—the bloodstains from where your grandfather was slain, still staining the floors. However, it was the unwarranted meet-and-greet of the rest of your brothers.

You weren’t here for them, and Maedhros was kind enough to spare you.

The journey unfolded in a discomforting silence, compelling you to tighten your grip on the basket as the minutes passed. Your elder brother guided you through a labyrinth of twists and turns, eventually leading to the distant sounds of a babbling stream and the faint rustling of paper being crumpled. As you approached an archway, entwined and covered in an overgrowth of vines, the scene unfolded before you—Fëanáro, seated on a bench, holding a charcoal, and engrossed in fervent scribbling on parchment, an expression of exasperation etched across his features.

Despite the openness of the surroundings, the air felt stifling. The heavens above offered a solution to wash away the lingering muskiness, and yet, it persisted. How could anyone discover peace or find reprieve in such conditions?

“I’ll leave you to speak with him.” He offered a polite smile, and with a bow of his head, Maedhros departed, leaving you to face his father in privacy.

Acknowledging the bow with a graceful return, you redirected your attention towards the man seated on the weathered wooden bench. His appearance had undergone a noticeable transformation since your initial encounter—his once neatly tied hair now cascaded loosely, and his attire, less polished, resembled something reminiscent of what your mother wore when she was in her element. Absent were the ornate rings that had adorned his fingers, and there was a notable absence of any jewellery embellishing his clothing. In this particular moment, he existed simply as Fëanáro, the man who had seemingly returned from the realm of the deceased. The elf who had…

“How long will you linger in the shadows, child?” came his soft voice. It was much mellow that the confrontation shared with your mother.

Taking a large gulp of air, you crossed the archway, entered his space to stand at the entrance and called out. “Greetings Lord Fëanáro.”

A resounding cry escaped his lips the moment his eyes fell upon your timid figure. Joy and agony intertwined in his heart as he realized that his child had come to visit him. With a swift, almost spring-like motion, he abandoned his seat, forgetting the letter that lay there, and hurried over to stand before your magnificence. It was the first time he had a clear image of the daughter he had denied himself the knowledge of. In your features, he saw not just you but also your mother and the reflection of his eldest.

An intense yearning surged within him, a desire to reach out and grasp you, to finally experience the touch of a creation that bore no marks of his mistakes. However, hesitation gripped his mind, as the unexpected loomed overhead like ominous clouds threatening to unleash a storm. The uncertainty lingered, questioning whether the rain would be cold or warm, if it would bring wrath or peace—or perhaps an outburst of everything.

“You…” He laughed breathlessly with disbelief at the tip of his tongue. “You’re all grown up. I was told about you during my return, unsure if a meeting would occur. I had glimpsed you at your mother’s, hoping to be acquainted. Unfortunately, I had not been blessed.”

“Hm, I decided to come see you on my own after…” your voice trailed off, indicating his reunion with your mother. “Well, she had the inclination that I was coming to see you, yet she did not stop me. I wanted to hear from you on my own.”

His facial muscles engaged in a silent struggle, battling the instinct to react to every nuance of your words. His hands, twitching with the desire to pull you into a comforting embrace, held back, understanding that such a gesture might inflict more harm than healing. Your perceptions of him were coloured by his transgressions. You possessed ample reasons to maintain a distance, not just from him, but also from your own brothers.

“What is there for me to tell you when you are aware of everything, my child?” he responded with reservation.

“Why?”

Your question lingered in the air, a stain that defied any attempts at removal; not even the heavens’ rain could cleanse it.

One question. Millions of reasons. One answer, and yet, he chose to walk away with his back turned and head hung in shame. His body collided with the bench with his head in his hands facing the floor.

“What answer might I give to you that would satisfy your perspective of me?” he uttered. “You’ve heard it all; I chose the Silmarils over my family… Why you ask? Pride, maybe arrogance or my blind foolishness. I led my children into death and one by one I watched them succumb to the same madness as me.”

“But you have me who was spared from the doom. I exist, someone you can change for. Someone who can be the answer to why.” Were the words wanting to spill from your lips, however, now was not the time. There was much to be possibly kindled to know how much your words weighed.

Stepping closer to where he sat hunched, you placed the basket beside him and knelt. Your hands were hesitant to touch his, but you managed to pry them off his face. “You know, there’s a saying that ammë says,” you whispered akin to the wind, “it’s something along the lines of, ‘second chances don’t come around often, but when they do, they appear in mysterious ways. It’s only if you desire it, then possibilities will arise’. If you want forgiveness, you can start with me. Show me the you who wants better.”

Fëanáro lifted his head, his mismatch teary eyes locking on your compassionate ones. He was stunned at your sympathy when his wife would not spare him the chance. If only he had not been so foolish, the family he desired would have existed before his very eyes. “You do not truly mean your words? Your mother would not pardon me—”

“I am not ammë; your quarrel with her is between you both. I am Y/N and this is between us. I choose to try building this relationship so long as you work with me,” you corrected with confidence laced in your voice. Your eyes were stern, filled with assertiveness and the reflection of faces you’d never met. “You have to want this.”

He considered with sorrowful eyes, too fearful of repeating his past and ruining his last blessing. With deliberate actions, he shifted to sit upright and meet you head-on. “Then I make no promises...no oaths.”

“Good, because I was prepared to convince you anyway possible since I brought treats for us to indulge, and I would hate for them to waste.” Your eyes darted to the basket filled with delicacies for you both to snack on during your formal meet-and-greet. “Imagine how awkward it would be had you rejected, and I had to return with a filled basket of treats.”

“You could have left it with your brothers. I’m sure they would be thrilled to learn their sister brought treats for them.” Fëanáro felt a surge of pride at the flow of your interactions, lacking awkwardness and tension. It gave him a sense of purpose to understand that all good things were not lost.

Though his refusal to utter the words of “Thanks” remained in his heart, for he knew Eru had heard and seen his gratitude.

Snickering as you reached for the basket to produce a blanket, you threw him a whimsical side eye. “I doubt that. You should have seen how the giant redhead was staring at me. I thought I was about to be thrown like a javelin out the yard,” you giggled.

“Maitimo?”

“Ay, I thought he was going to toss me out! Though it seems that the others are here as well?”

“Would you be willing to meet them?”

“Maybe another time, I only came with enough energy to deal with you.”

Masterlist

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#feanor #feanor x reader #feanor imagine #feanor x daughter!reader #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion fic #silmarillion scenario #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth fic #house of feanor #fëanor #fëanáro #curufinwë #house of finwe #feanorians #x reader insert #soft angst #angst/comfort #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[doodle-pops]

Seconds Chances Are Worth Living For

Maglor x human!reader

Request: Hi can I request an fic (or onehsot) where a human finds Maglor wondering the beach where he threw the silmaril and they help him? - anon

Warnings: human!reader, light angst with happy ending/comfort, depressed and gloomy Maglor

Words: 1.3k

Synopsis: Nobody ever said second chances in life were easy, nor were changes necessary to bring them.

“Will you not come with me?”

His heart twisted painfully; your words lingered in the air like an unwelcome odour he desperately wished to dispel. Too often had these haunting words surfaced in his mind during the agonizing days of solitude. Too many times, he found himself yearning for them to materialize into reality, yet he remained resolute in his pride, steadfast against the prospect of accepting forgiveness. Deep within, he longed for the warmth of a fireplace, enclosed by walls of solace and finality—enough respite from the harshness of the ocean waves and the mournful cries of seagulls.

His posture, detached upon the rugged rocks, nearly melding into the static structure, remained unmoved. On the contrary, you stood unwavering before him, your gaze fixed upon his threadbare form draped in the remnants of shame and despair. It was a clash between an immovable object and an unstoppable force, and you were determined not to be the one to yield. Whether it was destiny or the cosmic alignment that led you to his desolate presence on the shores of Forlindon, you were resolved not to depart without pulling him away.

Defiance surged through your veins as you continued to face his statuesque figure, yet you restrained yourself from encroaching upon his personal space.

“If you stay another hour, you may succumb to fatal illness,” you pleaded, voice above a whisper. A strong gust of wind roamed the shores, prompting you to curl your cloak around your shoulders tightly to your body. There was a faint chattering of your teeth as you gathered the courage to speak up again. “Please, there is a cabin not too far away from these shores. The least you can do is come with me for something warm to eat and drink, perhaps a warmer change of apparel?”

Maglor’s gaze stretched into the distance, fixed upon the horizon, while his fingers gracefully danced through the air, as if caressing an unseen harp. Murmuring unfamiliar words, too delicate for mortal ears to grasp, his lament echoed the sorrows of a bygone era when the world was in its infancy. This was the poignant scene that unfolded before you: Maglor, singing with a voice textured like sandpaper, tears encrusting his eyelids, lips weathered and parted, fingers weaving through the invisible threads of melody, and eyes reflecting a profound abyss of desolation.

In a single glance, your heart welled with empathy, and tears threatened to spill from your lashes. In a burst of compassion, you implored and beseeched him to find solace within the confines of your cabin, offering a glimmer of hope to bring an end to his eternal torment.

“Please,” –you stepped closer, dwarfed by his largeness despite his malnourished physique– “I’m not asking you to stay forever if that is what you believe I seek. I only wish to help you—”

“Why?” He spoke or rather, croaked!

“Well…” you fumbled, stunned at his ability to communicate after minutes of attempting to capture his attention. “Because it is the right thing to do.”

“Why?”

Flapping your lips like a fish and furrowing your brows to mimic confusion, you stammered, “W-Well, I mean—You shouldn’t be alone out here in the element…suffering. You deserve a warm bed and comfort.”

“Why?” You never imagined that reaching out to aid a person would become so difficult. Indeed he was proving to be an unmovable object, but you were willing to be that unstoppable force who spoke wisdom into him.

For a fleeting moment, your gaze descended from his lean countenance to the weathered rock upon which he perched, his nimble fingers still weaving through the breeze in search of a haunting melody. A serene ambiance enveloped both of you, juxtaposed against the impending unease hanging in the air. The turbulent seas clashed vehemently against the headlands and platforms, while the sky hinted at an impending tempest, prompting you to ponder earnestly on what he sought from you amid the impending cataclysm.

Rubbing your cheek to battle against the frost nipping at your skin, you pinched your lips, then scratched your head as though an oncoming headache was surfacing. “Because I want to help you and I believe you are in need of help. My mortal compass would not rest well knowing that I left someone out in the element to suffer when I could relieve some of it.”

“And…what if you are…” He never finished his words for his throat seized up on him, but they lingered in the air ringing obviousness to what he was conveying.

“Wrong? Then I will learn a life lesson to not trust strangers who are on the brink of death.” Releasing a chuckle as you crinkled your nose, you looked at him once more. “I rather spend my time helping someone in need of it instead of having restless days and nights knowing I left you to suffer. If I am wrong…—everyone suffers differently, the good, the bad and the indifferent. What matters is that I helped; what you choose to do after is your choice and path.”

For the first time since your encounter, his lacklustre gaze fixed upon your earthly form, shrouded in ebony. His eyes meticulously studied every nuance of your being, from the strands of your hair down to the contour of your chin, even discerning the intricacies of your skin that radiated vitality. It was a quality of his that had languished in purgatory for countless eons. Compelling his lips to part, his pallid complexion yielded, producing droplets of moisture that emerged, imparting a semblance of colour to his wistful countenance. “But…am stran…ger.”

Resisting the urge to physically shake him by his shoulder before being beyond complex, you huffed and widened your eyes, tears threatening to spill as your emotions swallowed you. “Yes, yes! I know you are a stranger! You could be a sea creature too for all I know, who crawled out the depths of the ocean to lament his sufferings to the surface world! But none of that matters because I know a suffering person when I see one because I too… Please, let me help you. Don’t…give up without trying. Let me help...”

Maglor drew in a slow, measured breath before exhaling. It felt as though some divine intervention, dispatched by the Valar to alleviate his torment, had arrived in the form of your unwavering determination. Perhaps the burden of his endless years wandering the shores had become too much for even the Valar to bear, prompting their counsel for his return. Alternatively, this could be yet another vivid dream, a product of years spent attempting to conjure solace. Regardless, it all seemed serendipitous.

Though he longed to inquire about his fate should he accept, the strength to articulate a single syllable eluded him. As his eyes locked onto yours in search of sincerity, he grappled with the duality of seeking both truth and deceit, yearning for the former.

Setting aside his infamous pride, swallowing it like a scalding-hot, white rod, a new chapter unfolded. The courage amassed since ancient days returned, instilling confidence in his actions. However, the lack of physical strength betrayed him, causing his legs to give way, sending him tumbling into the damp sand. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming desire to weep at the transformation he had undergone and the shame he carried. Your arms delicately extended, encircling his waist, as he clung to your figure. From a once-great prince to a desolate wanderer in need of mortal compassion, Maglor held onto you as you struggled to lift him onto his feet, leaning his weakened body against yours.

“All is fine, I have you. Just walk with me, small steps and we shall get there safely and securely,” you softly reassured as you carried him towards a new beginning.

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#maglor angst #maglor x reader #maglor imagine #maglor scenario #maglor #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion scenario #silmarillion fic #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth scenario #middle earth fic #house of feanor #feanorians #makalaurë #macalaurë #makalaure #macalaure #kanafinwë #kanafinwe #light angst #angst with comfort #angst with happy ending #x reader insert #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[doodle-pops]

Love Languages | Imladris

A/N: You can find the others over here: Feanorians | Gondolin

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` Elrond

• 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Elrond stands out as one of the most supportive individuals in all of Middle Earth, possessing a remarkable ability to lavish you with praise and compliments, capable of brightening even your darkest moments. Whether you're grappling with insecurity, depression, or simply overwhelmed by stress and sadness, Elrond possesses an uncanny knack for choosing the perfect words to convey his emotions and bring comfort and joy into your life. Despite the tumultuous events he has endured, he remains a true inspiration, driven by a fervent desire to prevent you from suffering as he once did. With unwavering determination, he will go to great lengths to bring smiles and laughter to your world.

• 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞: As a busy elf responsible for the administration of Imladris, a role akin to that of a grandparent to all, Elrond is keenly aware of the precious moments that can be lost in the demands of his responsibilities. Consequently, he strives to carve out time amidst his packed schedule to be with you. Whether it's a shared breakfast, a leisurely lunch, a quiet walk, or simply snuggling together, he exerts his utmost effort to ensure your time together is well-spent. On occasion, he may even dedicate an entire day solely for the purpose of being in your company.

• 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭–𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠: As the esteemed Lord of Imladris, Elrond has an abundance of resources at his disposal, and he is more than willing to indulge your desires. Initially, he may not have comprehended the significance of showering a beloved with extravagant or numerous gifts. However, with your presence in his life, he has developed an irresistible urge to provide you with everything and anything you desire, as long as it brings you happiness. Witnessing the satisfaction and delight that lights up your face when he presents you with a new item is a source of immense joy for him, and he is committed to maintaining this gesture of love and affection.

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` Erestor

• 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Erestor, though often reserved and seemingly distant, harbours a deep affection for physical touch, especially when initiated by you. He may appear a tad gruff or out of touch with physical intimacy, but once you draw him into a hug or share a kiss, his heart warms to the gesture. In this regard, he typically defers to you to take the lead in initiating any form of physical closeness. However, there are moments when his mood swings unexpectedly, prompting him to seek your presence and casually drape himself over you when you're in private. He harbours a strong aversion to the thought of someone intruding on your intimate moments, which is why he prefers them to be private.

• 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Erestor's scholarly and advisory background has endowed him with an impressive command of language. His vocabulary is rich, and he strives to employ the most eloquent words when describing your beauty or personality. As a meticulous and directive individual, uplifting your spirits is a profound duty for him. He recognizes that his words can be straightforward, and when he senses you're in a foul mood, he tends to be especially cautious with his choice of words, often opting for physical touch instead. However, on occasions when he indulges in a bit too much wine, he can become quite eloquent and flowery in his expressions, much to your delight.

• 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞: Erestor finds great joy in spending quality time with you, particularly in serene moments where you both relax together. He cherishes the times you lie side by side on the balcony or lounge on comfortable sofas, engrossed in reading. More often than not, he takes the initiative to read to you, his soothing voice creating a tranquil atmosphere that enhances the experience. These moments, where you are entwined in each other's arms with his soothing narration in the background, are the ones he treasures most in your relationship.

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` Elrohir

• 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭–𝐆𝐢���𝐢𝐧𝐠: Elrohir shares many traits with his parents, particularly his father, and he's exceptionally attentive to your preferences. During your cherished moments together, he listens carefully to everything you mention, creating a mental catalogue of your desires. A week later, you'll often find thoughtful gifts waiting on your doorstep, and he'll greet you with a small, contented smile and a slight dip of his head when he sees your happiness. His gifts are meaningful and simple, never extravagant or ostentatious, reflecting the depth of his feelings for you.

• 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Every moment spent with Elrohir is a treasure, and while he may not be as touchy-feely as his brother or mother, he finds great comfort in physical closeness. Simple gestures like holding your hand, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, or tenderly kissing the back of your hand are his way of showing affection. He's a romantic at heart, and his actions reflect this aspect of his personality. He's not one for overt public displays of affection (PDA) and prefers to save heavy kisses and cuddling for private moments behind closed doors. You might be pleasantly surprised by the passionate intensity of his touch when you're alone – longer, more heated kisses, sneakily affectionate pinches and touches, and a tendency to cling to you.

• 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Similar to his father in this regard, Elrohir has a natural way with words. A gentle smile and a few whispered words of love and praise have the power to melt your heart. His words are like a warm, spring sunshine that brightens your aura, making you feel lighter and elated by his expressions of love and compliments. He has a poetic and flowery way with words, and his charisma shines through when he speaks. The sight of his one-sided dimpled smile after he's poured his heart out to you is a sight to behold.

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` Elladan

• 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Elladan is exuberant and unabashed in expressing his love physically. He revels in showering you with affection, from sweet hand-holding to passionate kisses that occasionally earn him a scolding from his father. In private, he becomes an endearing, needy puppy who can't seem to get enough of your touch. He longs to be wrapped up in your embrace, cuddling with you for hours on end. You both enjoy evenings on the balcony, overlooking the valley, intertwined together, savouring those precious moments.

• 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞: Elladan possesses a spontaneous spirit and a yearning for adventure that sets him apart from his brother. He often embarks on orc-hunting expeditions, but when he returns home, he is eager to spend every possible moment with you. Whether you're an outdoor enthusiast or prefer indoor activities, he adapts to your preferences without hesitation. His primary goal is to be near you and witness your smile, leading him to plan a variety of activities to ensure you both have a great time. Even if it involves cosying up by the fireplace and reading to each other, Elladan is more than willing to oblige.

• 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Traveling Middle Earth with his brother, Elladan learns and enthusiastically experiments with various phrases used to express love. These phrases often blend elven and mortal languages, and they can range from charming to surprising to downright flabbergasting. While he may not always grasp the full depth of their hidden meanings, his intentions are rooted in love. His compliments are a delightful blend of sweetness, cheesiness, and warmth, guaranteed to bring a smile to your face.

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[doodle-pops]

House of Finarfin | Getting Into A Fight for Their S/O

A/N: For my inactivity, have a cookie 🍪 and some headcanons for the golden boys. It was nearly impossible to write for this house when they’re so classy and more tamed than the others. Like imagine Finarfin getting into a fistfight (⊙_⊙)？

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Finarfin

This elf does not condone violence and would not even for the slightest allow himself to engage in such unmannered acts…before the public eye or yours. You really believe if push came to shove, Finarfin would be a bit violent, and I don’t mean physical alteration.

Underneath, he’s boiling with rage and desires to jump–kick that idiot (for the first time he felt physical impulses) who decided to spill belittling accusations about you and his family. The glass in his hand has cracks on the side, ready to shatter.

Aware that this matter would become worse as the idiot prattles forever on, he’ll call his men to have them removed and thrown into prison to spend the night or a few days. While that occurs, he drags you off to enjoy the rest of the night doing everything to dissipate his anger.

During the night when you’re fast asleep—which he ensures before departing—he’ll pay his newly recruited prisoner a visit for a nice heart–to–heart conversation. This means he’s rolled up his sleeves to brace the perpetrator against the wall and have them sweating bullets.

No one has ever seen Finarfin like this, nor will anyone ever (and believe it). Finarfin is still elegant as ever as he speaks menacingly and warns the prisoner to never let it happen again or this nice talk would be different.

By sunrise, he’s back in bed and cuddled up at your side. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear and expressing his love and adoration as though he wasn’t threatening someone in the prison cells hours earlier for indecent behaviour.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Finrod

Remember that this is the same Nom Nom who fought with a werewolf naked and killed it with his teeth. So without further ado, how foolish does one need to be to provoke our quiet Finrod? Astronomically.

All Finrod wants to do is enjoy the night with his lover and family and get drunk from the unlimited stock of wine, but someone has to ruin his night by throwing physical insults and jabs at you. As a composed individual, he’ll attempt to dissolve the issue, but nothing ever goes as planned.

The next thing you know, you’re witnessing a fluffy golden–haired male going ‘left right uppercut goodnight’ and a bite in the middle of the celebration and a bunch of guards and his brothers are rushing to prevent the fight from escalating.

Finrod is seething with a calming rage that appears terrifying because all he’s doing is S T A R I N G as they remove him from the beaten–to–pulp perpetrator on the floor. It’s the look in his eyes which no one has ever seen before that’s sending fear down your spine.

His brothers would suggest that you tag along to show Finrod that you were safe and alright. They would make you stay with him the rest of the night to keep him busy instead of doing something impulsive.

Finrod would be embarrassed and ashamed when he snapped out of his state and realised that you just witnessed him in an unhinged manner, fighting someone. So much apologies, Finrod would throw himself on his knees to beg for forgiveness while you’re cleaning his injuries. The sight would make you chuckle and freeze.

“Findo, sweetheart. I know you’re sorry, but you were also defending me, don’t apologise.” Give him some kisses and cuddle him to relieve his stress. His glow would return.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Angrod

He’s hot–headed and could give a few of the Feanorians a run for their money when it comes to flying off the railing and diving headfirst into a fight to defend you. He’s not giving the individual a chance to beg for forgiveness because in his mind, “Why would you talk about my S/O as a joke?”

Seeing Angrod in a fight comes off as…normal due to already seeing his and Aegnor’s temper. You naturally had the inclination that him getting into physical altercations would occur, however, you were expecting it other reasons.

Cue, his older brother and cousins getting involved to struggle drag a madman away as he shouts profanities across the room and attempts to break free of their grasp. He’s seething and fighting to break free to finish what he started.

You would have to be stern in order to gain his attention away from the perpetrator being dragged off. If you thought Finrod did damage, wait till you see what his younger brother managed.

S H A K E him back into reality because his focus is elsewhere, refusing to meet your eyes, mostly because he still isn’t aware of your presence yet. But still, give him a violet shake and scold him for injuring himself because his knuckles were all bruised.

Angrod would remain broody for the rest of the night while you pull his ears and pinch him to drop the altercation because he’s swearing under his breath every chance he gets. Push him in a pool of cold water to wake him up and join him for a swim, he’s finally dropped it.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Aegnor

Angrod 2.0 because he throwing his fists with fervour, left and right the minute words of insult are thrown in your direction. Insult him, but not his family or his beloved. In the beginning, there would be a small attempt at escaping the scene because you’re there and he doesn’t wish for you to overhear.

Yet, the fool who wishes to continue prattling doesn’t get the hint when receiving the look of death. Some extra foul words would be exchanged before Aegnor releases himself from your grasp and lunges at the elf, dragging him across the floor.

Never before had you seen your lovestruck elf so enraged, and it terrified you, even if the matter were to defend your name and honour. The sight of his calmest and most treasured smile vanished into the air when you caught a glimpse of his face stone–set and focused on the actions.

However, it was the guards under the order of his father who tugged him away while he threw daggers at the unconscious elf. The person who could speak sense into him would be you reassuring him that you were fine, and no harm was delivered.

Hold and squeeze him tightly as you pepper his face with butterfly kisses and turn his attention onto you (kisses are the best way to keep him focused on you). Probably take him for a swim for his stress to fade. Let him skip a few stones to release his frustration.

And when he’s done, reassure him that all is well, and you’re not upset by his choice to defend you. Tell him how brave or fearless (or impulsive) he was to dive into the fight and save your pride, it’ll make him turn into a strawberry.

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[doodle-pops]

Domestic Life With Glorfindel Would Include...

𑁍 So first of all, domestic life with him would mainly happen when you two are back in Valinor when the both of you don’t have any strenuous work as heads of the House. This means that you two get to lay back and relax a lot more than usual.

𑁍 He’s going to be all over you more than ever (so if he wasn’t in the beginning) and fewer duties means more time in private. He’s not going to let you go so easily so you’d be locked up with him more often.

𑁍 With domestic bliss in your life, things go a lot slower than back in Middle Earth but you’re both able to savour every moment better now.

𑁍 I did mention that he is a good cook, he wasn’t the best when you first started dating him because as a Lord, he was always busy with meeting and war and protecting people, so he never had or made the time to learn how to but when you came into his life, he made the effort because he always saw how you’d cook for him and so he wanted to reciprocate.

𑁍 So, now that you’re in your domestic bliss with less work on your plate, he’s going to be doing the cooking more often than you, sometimes if he sees you cooking either he makes you leave the kitchen so he can finish up or he joins you. He has it in his head that he’s a pro chef now.

𑁍 He’s going to help with household chores but he’s not going to be the best help because you probably never get anything done correctly or on time. He’ll constantly distract you from everything. He’s one of those people who starts cleaning and then finds a whole bunch of items and forgets cleaning to play with them. You’ll walk into the room and meet him covered in old items and playing with some toys from his childhood.

𑁍 Since he’s back in Valinor, this means that most if not all of his friends from the first age are reborn, so if you weren’t from the first age, he’s taking you to meet them. Lunch dates or dinner dates will include his friends and you so all of you can get to know each other and also do lots of catching up.

𑁍 If you two didn’t have children in Middle Earth because of all the chaos unfolding, then he’s going to bring having children up since it’s a good time and there’s no impending doom raining down on your heads.

𑁍 This means that he has more free time on his hands to romance you all the time without having to worry about someone interrupting, so I hope you have tons of energy to keep up with him.

𑁍 When you do have a child (the rest would come after), your domestic life begins to feel halfway complete as though this was what you two were missing.

𑁍 He is ecstatic when a baby becomes a part of your domestic fairy-tale life. For him, everything is now perfect. His days are filled with more fun as the baby grows. He’ll be playing all sorts of games and taking them on tours around Valinor.

𑁍 Speaking of tours, if you weren’t born in Valinor this would be the most opportune time for him to show you around, you’ll be touring Valinor as a family showing off your little bundle of joy along the way while he’s pointing out to and them all the places, he told you about.

𑁍 “Yes, do you see that curved statue over there, the one wi- Oh, hello, yes this is our newest member of the family. Cute, aren’t they? – right anyway, like I was saying…”

𑁍 Your domestic life with him will be filled with joyous moments and this would be one of the times you’d truly see him at his happiest, knowing that he doesn’t have to leave you or vice versa, it calms his heart and puts an ease to his worries. He doesn’t need to be scared about something happening since you’re living in paradise with him.

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[doodle-pops]

Kiss It Better

Elrond x reader

Kinktober 2023: Aphrodisiacs

Warnings: fem!reader, aphrodisiac, rough sex, marathon sex, manhandling, semi-public sex, Elrond being a tease

Words: 4.3k

Synopsis: When Elrond mistakenly adds aphrodisiacs to your sleep–inducing tea, your quest for a peaceful night’s rest takes an unexpected turn. Elrond, being understanding and patient, comes to your aid, ensuring you find the sleep you were looking for through rare methods.

List of Requests

“Oh dear!” Staring at the empty contents of the supposed bottle of wormwood powder and then lifting the actually clear glass of wormwood, Elrond’s tongue kissed his teeth at the accident he caused. A first–time mishap and on a grand scale, he was sure how the effects of the mistakenly emptied contents of what should have been wormwood, but accidentally giving lavender in a copious amount, would have. You were sitting impatiently, twirling around on his stool, complaining about feeling overly feverish and sensitive. To make matters better, it was approximately eight minutes since you drank the concoction he stirred up a storm to create.

There wasn’t much the healer could do aside from staring at the bottle, defeated before silently placing the empty jar onto the shelf and stepping away with concern in his eyes. Those brown eyes darted everywhere else to inspect for any other mistaken bottles of herbs and powders he may have accidentally mixed into the tea for your lethargy. His hands moved at the same rate his eyes followed, falling on every surface of empty bottles and out–of–place containers. Even the opened books were not spared from his investigation, should he have unknowingly flipped to the wrong page, he might as well consider.

“This,” he sighed as he reached for another jar he was sure of using, this time labelled incorrectly once he smelt the contents within and became aware of it being another floral powder, “will get me into trouble once the higher effects begin to kick in. Though, it should have begun…” His eyes trailed off the half–filled jar to rush towards the page where the instructions lay before him. For a second, just a second, Elrond was almost certain that the universe was playing tricks on his brain as he decoded the measurements written on the page.

Two teaspoons

One teaspoon

Two and half teaspoon

One tablespoon…

“Lord Elrond…” Your voice echoed annoyingly from the outer room as your temperature began to increase and the sensation of having clothes covering your body became irritating. You were confused about the effects of what his homey remedy for lethargy was giving off, far different from the usual teas you consumed within the past year. Now, fanning your face and neck while giving aggravated tugs to your dress, you whined to him once more. “Lord Elrond, please, what is happening?”

With a pregnant pause, his head cocked to the side and his ear flicked at the change in your tone, you were already under the fire. Deciding that it was wiser to keep the truth about his mistake under the radar, Elrond whisked himself out of the storeroom and into his office where he came across you dabbing a cloth dipped in the bowl of cooling waters along your neck. Regardless, the action appeared more provocative than intended as you ran the material along your elongated neck and parted your lips to release a long, quiet groan. Your ability to distinguish decorum with the flames building intensely within was absentminded. There was no time to stop and become self–aware of the performance you were putting on due to his slip–up.

Elrond on the other hand was unsure if to continue standing silently in the doorway and observe how far your actions would take you or snap you out of it and treat the issue. Shifting on his feet and taking a deep gulp as you wrung the cloth and allowed droplets of water to fall against your skin to provide coolness, your eyes opened and caught him staring with a jar in hand and his eyes honed on your confrontational display. “Lord Elrond,” you called out nonchalantly as though you were not lacking decorum, “what is happening to me? I thought you gave me a tea for my tiredness?”

Scepticism flooded his expression as he attempted to avoid your gaze, solely due to the siren look you threw and the disappointment of informing you of his blunder as a healer. Walking into the room, he stepped around the opposite side of the table and away from you to place the bottle of lavender at the centre. His palms were faced down and his head hung with his lips twisting, thinking of every possible solution and answer to return. “It…It would appear that—”

No, he couldn’t say that.

Cautiously rounding the table while his fingers trailed along the edge, he turned his focus to you as he approached you from your side and came to stand beside you. Wordlessly, he gingerly pried the cloth out your fingers, careful not to touch your skin and dabbed it across your forehead, making notes of your slight shivering and increased arousal. This was the bare minimal interaction with a cloth hindering skin–to–skin contact and you were already affected. Swiftly dipping the cloth into the bowl of cool water, he continued to dab at your forehead and the rest of your face, doing his best to avoid your neck to entice any behaviour.

His lips were pursed as he remained steadfast on applying the first step into solving your crisis, brown eyes following the motion of his hands until you began sighing too frequently. His eyes fell upon the bob of your throat and the parting of your lips the moment you shut your eyes to focus on the lingering sensation of his touch. It was then he decided it was a wrong idea to become close and personal to treat you.

“This is clearly a terrible idea,” he muttered, taking a step backwards and pondering on how to properly assess you.

“Elrond, forgive me, Lord Elrond,” you corrected and hopped off the stand to step forward, crossing the gap in three strides, “please just tell me what is happening and why does my body feel this…way.” At the end of your words, you began twitching, majorly at the junction where your thighs met your pelvis. The growing ache between your legs provoked you to squeeze your thighs together and shift from left to right.

Worry befell his eyes, and he bit the inside of his mouth at the progress of actions. “Alright, you need to sit and remain still, and refrain from touching me,” he ordered, frustratingly.

“Touching you?” You frowned and took three steps backwards to meet the stool.

Building a storm within the clustered spacing of his office, Elrond rapidly answered as he reached for a clean mortar and pestle, “Yes, no touching me because you might get the urge to do something like that to sedate the pain.” Having placed the instruments on the table not too far away, he placed his hands on his hips and turned to cast a worrisome look. “I made the wrong tea due to…mislabelling. I picked up the incorrect ingredients and gave you aphrodisiacs in extremely large doses.” His voice had shrunk at the end of his confession knowing fully well that you would blow a fuse.

“What?!” you shrieked. “Elrond, are you serious? I’m trying to gain hours sleeping, not sleeping around.”

He couldn’t help but find your statement to be entirely humorous as it slipped out and released a muted chuckle, hidden by the dipping of his head. “I apologise, the fault is entirely my own,” he clarified with a clearing of his throat. “However, if you can only sit still and allow me to cure it, you’ll soon be on your way to sleep.”

“And exactly how are you planning on curing this? Because to my unfortunate knowledge, somebody gave me aphrodisiacs in large quantities and claimed it was a new sleeping tea. Perhaps it wasn’t an accident and done on purpose. No wonder why I felt odd the minute I drank it,” you muttered with apprehension and cast a side eye at him. To blame Elrond was entirely not you and only the herbs taking its toll on your frustration. All in the act of attempting to have its purpose served.

Unaware of this being an effect, conversely, Elrond grew tired of your antics and snapped with fury in his voice, laced with weariness and concernment. “And I believe you have a way of solving this problem with all your complaining?” he challenged and slammed the mortar upon the table. “You seem to doubt my ability to remove the issue.”

“Of course, I do, especially when you appear as equally as weary as myself, I have every right to question your capabilities as a healer!” you reacted, shooting from your seat and standing beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “If you were the healer you claimed to be then I would not be in this situation—”

“Your pupils have dilated tremendously,” he whispered, causing his warm breath to fan your face prompting you to lean in closer unconsciously.

“So what?” you replied.

“And your pulse is becoming erratic,” he added, becoming aware of the proximity of your body.

“Let it—I don’t mind if it goes a bit high when I’m around you.” Fingers crawling up his arm, you kept eye contact with his gorgeous brown eyes and inched yourself closer until you wedged yourself in the gap between him and the table. Bodies pressing against each other, driving you insane, you reached out to hold him closer in an attempt to step away. Albeit, he wasn’t attempting to distance himself from your close–body figure, pressing against him.

“You’re thinking too much, Elrond,” your voice seduced while your finger reached his chin to tug it forward, mending the gap. “Just admit this was all a part of your plan and you desired me as much as I do. Just imagine,” you began, standing on your toes and placing your lips beside his ear, “how good it would feel to release all your tension in me. When was the last time you had a good time?”

“Y/N, think about this carefully,” he cautioned lowly, body shuddering when your lips kissed his earlobe and knowing that sense had disappeared the minute you consumed the tea. It was only a futile and last–resort attempt.

“Picture it Elrond,” you taunted and took his hand to wrap around your waist. “Us naked and entangled while you satisfy both our needs. Just think of how good you’ll fuck me.”

You proved the power and potency of the herbs and flowers was displayed by the rush of his arms instantly knocking all the parchment and instruments off in haste and hoisting you on the table. Tugging at your leggings and knickers until they were flung across the room, your bare legs met the cold air and his fingers. You trembled under his touch, your chest heaving and sweat building as the erraticism of your pulse escalated immensely, you cried out for him to get on with the show and stop teasing. You wanted to feel his body against yours without clothes hindering the sensation.

Reaching your hands out, they haphazardly yanked at his apparel and flung each piece across the room without care and concern. Your fingers desired the need to touch his skin and have the warmth of it pressing against yours to cool the raging fire crawling like molten lava across your skin. Inch by inch it sluggishly trailed, engulfing your entire body into flames while he stood there leaving you to take care of the matter on your own. The cruelty behind his reclusive actions, palms against the tabletop and standing between your legs while he breathed in your air and left you to undress him and then yourself increased the ache between your legs. Whining his name and frowning at him for provocation failed, for all he did was stand there with his brown eyes locked upon your pouting expression.

“You want me to assist you, don’t you?” he lowly chuckled, turning on the heat. “In fact, you need me to assist you.”

“Elrond, please don’t tease me any longer,” you wailed, tugging on the neckline of his shirt to bring his lips a little closer to meet yours, only to have him pull away at the last minute. “Just…Just fix it!”

“And here I thought you said I was incapable of such,” he corrected as his right hand slid up your back to meet the laces and give the bow a tug, unravelling it. With his thumb and forefinger gripping the end of the lace, he continued to unravel it until the bow was undone, leaving the rest of the intricate lacing to loosen. Straightening his posture and left standing in his leggings and shirt, he pulled you upright to unravel the tightness of the lacing and loosen the upper portion of your dress to allow his skilful fingers to peel it off artfully slowly.

The entire time, your hands were frozen on the buttons of his shirt and your eyes focused on the sleeves of your dress being tugged down your arm until they were caught at your elbow. The palpations of your chest could be heard and figured out by Elrond through the flustered expression you cast and the build–up of perspiration. The stickiness coating your skin, Elrond’s fingers swiped against it as he tugged at the front of the dress, prying your cleavage out from the confinements and into the open for his eyes to feast upon.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” he quizzed once most of the upper portion had been removed and took a step back, prying your fingers off the buttons to finish the removal of his clothes. “Is it because you need my care and touch desperately?”

His hands rubbed circles into your hipbone, provoking more sounds to fall from your lips. He wanted to witness how putty you would easily become for his remedy after all the smart–mouthing you were capable of relaying. To witness the hooded, lazily look in your eyes which morphed into want and the parting of your lips to moisten it as his body rocked into yours, enticed him to take the remaining steps to completion.

Towering above you flushed and semi–nude, both hands ran up your legs, over every curve and bump, pushing your dress until it bunched around your waist. Measuring the gap between you, he stepped closer to fill it, also yanking your body closer till it was flushed against his chest. The ripples of goosebumps once your breasts were squeezing on his chest, nipples hardened and rubbing deliciously upon the smoothness of your Lord’s skin, shot across your ignited body. Little whimpers and sighs were emitted at the action of your bodies firmly pressed without any space in between to disturb the tension being created.

Gathering the energy to reach for the rest of your sleeves and tugging it off completely, now your dress pooled perfectly around your waist, he slipped his hands under your thighs and brought them to encircle his waist. The yelp you emitted was swallowed up by his lips colliding with yours and wasting no time in giving you the chance to adjust. Elrond pried your lips apart with his tongue and went to work fervently to savour the sweet taste of your kiss. His groans, at first, were inaudible. Being devoured by your lips as you made attempts at eating his lips or rather his face—your fingers were clawing into his nape and back, pushing him deeper into your body as though you wanted him to morph into you.

For every bite of your lip, your fingers tightened at his nape and gave small tugs to his hair, and for every swipe of his tongue against yours, you dug your nails into his back to leave your signature. The kiss was unlike any other you had experienced, perhaps with the mixture of him being your Lord and you his assistant, the thrill was heightened led to his touch being voracious.

Conversely, Elrond was a master in his art and possessed infinite levels of control unlike you in this situation at a time like this. Breaking the kiss much to your disappointment, his lips remained a few centimetres apart. “Are you going to give me an answer?”

Your body jerked in his hold as his question left you furious at the leisurely time he was taking to fix the issue. The blood under your skin was boiling causing the fingers gnawing at his neck and back to force him into hurrying up. “Would you quit it and just fuck me already? Put the heat out and just make me feel good!” you wailed.

For the first time in years, Elrond felt rejuvenated at the game he played with you. It wasn’t something he was ever fond of, always preferring to make the moment romantic and full of adoration and love, but today sparked a newfound delight. All the while you were yapping and running your mouth, being demanding and obnoxious, the hands that once held your thighs already slipped between your bodies to unsheathe his cock from his leggings and guide it towards your opening. He was thrilled your attention was focused on getting him to comply that you were oblivious to your wish being fulfilled.

“Is this what you wanted me to give you?” With his body at present pressed against yours, there was no room for your eyes to witness the motion of his cock approaching your cunt, only to feel the breaching with an eye roll and heave. Thankfully your hands flopped off his back to brace your body upright on your forearms, you were given the most precious sight of his cock sliding in and out, already covered in a sheet of your arousal. The only thing left for him to do was to pick up the pace.  

“You want me to give you pleasure?” he goaded. “But you told me I lacked the capabilities.”

A mischievous grin was set upon his face as the rocking of his hips remained steady and at a snail’s pace. No amount of gripping his hips or pressing the heels of your ankles into his back would increase his speed; not until you gave him an answer.

“Please, please, please. J–…Just give it to me Elrond…” crying out with a solid flop against the table, as much as your body was being stimulated, it wasn’t at the rate required to soothe the ache. “I just want your cock…”

As desperate and pitiful as it sounded, it was pleasant to his ears somehow and fuelled the course of his actions. Leaning his body lower, his hips maintained their rhythmic pattern, leaving behind the soft pitta–patter of his ball being soaked by your drenched cunt. It made his eyes widen the realisation of the desire you contained to be relieved and how much he gave you to consume. Pleased in ways unimaginable, his left hand cupped your face for his thumb to run over your lips before feeling your lips wrapping around the tip and your tongue swirling around it. Eyes widening, yet kept holding his finger, they were fixated on the motion of your lips.

Hissing, his lips formed a smirk at the inability of you to give a response before barrelling away. With his right hand occupied on your waist, he used it to guide your hips to meet the increased tempo of his thrust, awakening the temptress within you. Provocative moans from the depths of your soul escaped your lips and left him more aroused from the start. Even through the action of your sweet lips sucking on his finger, he could precisely and clearly hear each syllable of your melody the more he drove his cock into you.

He couldn’t believe how right you were about the last time he gave himself away so freely to the highs of ecstasy. Your words replayed in his head about releasing all his tension while curing your problem; considering it beneficial when he was problem solving both your issues in one shot—a good remedy.

Letting himself loose, Elrond flung his head backwards to join you in harmony as moans fell from his lips. The tightness of your cunt, a feeling he missed and enjoyed, wrapping around him suffocatingly without a moment of reprieve spiralled him into ecstasy. Your snuggly held him in possession, considering him yours with every stroke he delivered, kissing your sweet spot like no tomorrow and leaving behind stains of his precum to quench the flames. The rigidness and robustness of his cock, the perfect weight resting within your walls were accepted with familiarity. Allowing you to remodel and mould your insides to suit the shape of what he desired. A place where he could return for release and satisfaction.

With the first wave of your fire cooling from sinister rolls of his hips, loudly slapping against the inner of your thighs, you sighed in euphoria. This was the relief your body craved all these months, not sleep. The sensation of being twisted into different positions, from lying on your back to being placed on your side with your leg over his shoulder, a different type of workout that proved to be the best form of lethargy. There wasn’t a position your legs were being tossed into the deeper he drove his cock to have it touch placed unheard of. When they were considered myths, your Lord Elrond proved them false with the wicked flex of his hips to bury himself in the depths of your core, emptying the first release of tension before pummelling again.

There was no stopping when you were now being placed on your stomach, your right foot planted directly into the floor with your left hitched on the table and his hips smacking against your ass. You could have sworn that he was the one who drank the tea instead of you, but with a quick reality check of the volume of releases you made in the last half an hour, it was you.

The deliberating crawl of your cramps as he fucked you like no tomorrow, fingers massaging the back of your thigh while his lips whispered filth in your ear, eased the pain. Even when your stomach clenched and your walls cramped around his cock as the coolness of your orgasm quenched the flames, his fingers ghosting over your skin was a better sensation and stimulation. You could stand there for as long as he desired and take the vigorous pummelling he gave, even if it left you bedridden, it would been the best rest and treatment for your weariness received. It might encourage you to make checks more often than usual.

On Elrond’s end, he could say the same thing. His right hand intertwined with yours upon the table, sweaty chest rubbing against yours and finger massaging your thigh, he would have to make frequent schedules for another visit. Nevertheless, he only wished for the constant slipping and sliding of your bodies to cease. It made things difficult for him to hold and keep close, albeit it allowed for the sounds of his hips meeting your ass to reverberate in the depths of his eardrum, placing a pleasant smile on his face.

“Your cries sound better than I imagined, Y/N.” His voice trickled into your ear like caramel, melting away any remaining tension in your bones. Your body visibly sagged into his chest; head lulled atop his shoulder while your lips remained parts to release your broken, stammering moans. “Tell me, is the treatment to your liking? Would you like me to ease the ache once more?”

Breathlessly fumbling around with your words, your fingers tightened in his and pressed into the table, knocking your knuckles into the solid wood at the swelling of his cock, expanding your walls. The violent flooding of his cum seeping into your cunt and being pushed deeper with the intention of being kept there, left you shaking. Your body couldn’t handle the intoxication of his presence entering you again, speeding up the process for another wave of your orgasm to break through and mix with his. Your cries were all he was listening to while he relentlessly continued to pound away at your walls, loving the hypersensitivity he sent you into.

“Oh fuck, El–…rond!” Wailing into the heated air, your breath condensed at the rise in temperature of the office. Your body’s urge to collapse was prohibited by the gentle encircling of his right arm, still entwined with yours, around your waist to keep you upright and against his sweaty chest. The amazement you held at the unshakeable power he wielded to continue round after round as though his limit was endless. You were beginning to consider the acknowledgement of you being hit with aphrodisiacs was false and simply made up to lure you into his trap.

After all, he was a descendant of a Maia, a powerful at that, being able to ensnare you with the hypnotic look in his eyes was enough to have you at his beck and call. Imagine what his voice was doing as your insides churned and melted with the melody of his moans against your earlobe. Lips kissing the tips and breathless groaning at the squeeze you gave; Elrond summoned you to him like a siren calling its prey.

“Just like that, I’m sure you can give me another and another and another,” he encouraged, placing more pressure on your sweet spot as he ground his hips into your ass and rubbed the tip of his cock against it. “Just let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel better.”

He was unappeasible and outmatched you.

And yet, it did not terrify you, only enticing you to further give in and allow him to care and tend to your needs. His touches and words were all that were required to provoke your body into rejuvenation. He could kiss away the pain, ghost his lips over your skin or breathe against it and all would be well. His remedy to heal your ache was the best and always provided satisfaction.

Masterlist

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