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#silmarillion x reader
doodle-pops · 2 days
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Finrod NSFW Alphabet
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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!
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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.
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Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @addaigio
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Since you seemed to like my last poll on this, I decided to do a part two with the elves I did not include last time. Hope you have fun!
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mur4sak1 · 27 days
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How would elves behave during an argument?
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A/N: Remember that English is not my first language so I hope I wrote in the best way <3
Characters: Rog, Galdor, Glorfindel, Maedhros, Legolas (bonus)
Rog: guys, this elf would be really scary. Contrary to what you might think, he would lose his temper very easily; he works all day in the darkness of the forges and when he leaves he just wants to have a good rest, so further stress from an argument would drive him out of his mind. He's the typical person who screams without thinking twice and says things he doesn't mean in anger. His way would destroy you every time, making you burst into tears from how bad he made you feel... but as soon as he saw a small tear running down your face he fell silent, forgetting everything that was happening; Was it him who made you like this? He was making the only person who loved him and who had always supported him in his darkest moments cry. He would stay still for some time, with a thousand thoughts in his head when a louder sob from you would bring him back to reality. He would apologize to you but he would do it without meeting your gaze, he is suffering too much for what he did and he wouldn't have the courage to see your destroyed expression. But you knew that he loves you more than anything after all. With difficulty you would get up and hug him as tight as possible, telling him that everything was fine, that you knew he didn't think those things and that you loved him... You couldn't see his face, but a tear fell from his eyes.
Galdor: NOW LET'S ALL GIVE A HUG TO THIS WONDERFUL ELF TOGETHER. He would always try to find a solution peacefully, without discussions and the need to argue, but if this happens you should not fear anything from him. He would NEVER scream, he would NEVER raise his voice, he would NEVER say anything mean to you just to hurt you or win the argument. I mean, it would be fantastic. Maybe due to particular circumstances you would have become so upset that you felt angry against the elf, but in any case he would have spoken to you in a calm and reasonable tone, making you understand that you didn't need to react that way. If the pain brought you to tears, he would hug you and console you like a defenseless child, helping you and trying to get you to vent so that he could fully understand what was troubling you so as to avoid misunderstandings. Galdor would have been able to understand and love you more than anyone else, always.
Glorfindel: It was rare to argue with the blond elf, but sometimes it happened and the situation became quite lively. Glorfindel always tried to keep his problems to himself and not involve others because he was convinced that difficult moments should only be faced with those you love. Furthermore, he certainly wanted to avoid all that useless gossip that many elves had on any topic that might attract their curiosity. Although his character was often extroverted and playful even in the saddest situations for this reason, when he argued with you it wasn't uncommon to hear shouts and snorts coming from your rooms. They would not be screams that expressed malice, but screams that asked to be listened to; it was natural for him to raise his voice when he wasn't listened to and in that way he expressed all his frustration and the pain that the discussion with you was bringing him. He always acted for your good and feeling attacked made him suffer, he wondered what he was doing wrong, what more did you want from him. But the intense mix of emotions inside him prevented him from acting rationally, forgetting how to express them and focusing only on everything you said. After a long time arguing like this you would have reached the point of being exhausted and progressively raising your voice would have left you breathless. You would stop to breathe for a fraction of seconds, with the certainty that everything would soon start again. But after rubbing your eyes, you looked at your elf's face and saw in him all the pain that he was trying to say to you through his tone of voice; his fists were clodes, his head was bowed, his forehead shiny with sweat and a few blond hairs stuck to it. In an instant you understood everything... You breathed a heavy sigh and quickly approached him to hug him, starting to beg him to forgive you and sobbing heavily between one apology and another... Caught off guard, after a few seconds he relaxed his arms and reciprocated the hug. Finally he let himself go to his feelings; he rested his head on your head and the wet of sweat combined with the wetness of a few tears. So he was able to express everything he felt and only at that point would you be able to clarify and return to being happy and in love as always "I just want to always be perfect for you".
Maedhros: I'm sure fights with the red-head would be very peaceful. Having grown up in a large family and in the role of an older brother, he had developed a lot of patience thanks to which he could easily handle any type of conflict with you. Contrary to what many might think, after Angbad Mae would not have vented the pain on you with shouts and insults, but quite the opposite. After the terrible torture he suffered, the only thing he wanted was to feel accepted and in you he found his salvation; in all the darkest moments where his mind couldn't differentiate reality from dreams you were there by his side to help him, without ever making him feel wrong and making him understand how strong he was to have overcome such a trauma. For this reason, he would feel like a terrible elf during arguments. He only wanted to offer you the support that you represented to him every day but instead he felt more like a burden to you. This would make him cry a lot, but in silence and alone, because he feared that with every little clash you would abandon him. He just needed time, time to understand that you would never, ever abandon him; you always told him that you loved him more than anyone else and that he needed your support to be able to return to the sweet, confident elf he once was, and you would do anything to help him. Needless to say, every time the arguments were resolved without even face them... there was too much love that bound your hearts to ruin it for superficial reasons.
BONUS. Legolas: So, I honestly see Legolas as the kind of elf who would be capable of walking away during an argument. Perhaps due to stress, lack of patience or lack of desire for confrontation, he could stop the conversation, pick up and leave the place where you were. But in reality his behavior would be the solution to the problem. In fact, the much anger that you had accumulated would have faded with distance and the passage of time and would have made both of you understand how much you cared for each other. Solitude would have helped Legolas to think clearly about the problem and find a possible solution to make them both happy. When you met again you would have made peace, both apologizing for your abrupt ways and organizing something to spend the evening together.
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ruiniel · 2 months
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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
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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.
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h0ly-fire · 7 months
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So … I’m not sure if the Silmarillion fandom was aware of this … but I found a Maedhros doll and I feel the need to share it… I’m not sure how to feel about it, but for some reason I have a dire need to own this Maedhros doll.
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lamemaster · 1 month
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Lead the Marriage
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AN: I want to do a series with different wedding traditions with elves. Please comment your ideas if you have any and also the elf you would like it with.
Pairing: Glorfindel x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: United by vows, separated by competitive streaks.
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"Whoever finds the ring first will be the one to hold the reigns of the marriage!" Your cousin cheerfully announces. And despite the hours of wedding ceremonies, your face lifts into a blinding grin.
A thrill shot through you as your cousin announced the ring-finding game. It was your favorite part of the wedding ceremony, a cherished tradition passed down through generations.
You watch, captivated, as your cousins drop the ring into the basin overflowing with milk and rose petals. The sweet scent mingled with the murmur of anticipation as the crowd leaned in.
Across the basin, Glorfindel's eyes, the color of a summer sky after a storm, met yours. A playful glint sparked within them, mirroring the mischievous tug on the corner of his lips
"Three," you murmured under your breath, flexing your hands and assessing the slight disadvantage of their size compared to Glorfindel's. You could almost picture his massive hands engulfing yours entirely.
"Two," your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Both your hands hovered inches above the cool surface, the scent of rose petals mingling with the milky water.
"One!" The shout split the air, and your hand plunged into the basin. A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you felt Glorfindel's wrist disappear beside you.
You'd underestimated him. Despite boasting the biggest hands, he remained surprisingly graceful, his movements lithe even as he pretended to churn the milk with exaggerated effort.
Moving around the rose petals, you feel the silky petals between your fingers while looking for the cool metal of the ring. That is until your fingers brush against his and your eyes look up to meet his. The world narrows to him, despite the hoodlum of cheering in the background.
But as your fingers brushed against his in the murky depths, a jolt shot through you, leaving you breathless. Heat flooded your cheeks, turning your initial frown into a flustered smile you quickly tried to contain.
Instead of continuing your search, your fingers lingered, the cool milk surrounded by petals that cling to your hands, no longer registering against the sudden warmth spreading through your palm.
A flicker of surprise crossed Glorfindel's face, quickly replaced by a knowing grin that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
Averting your eyes, you move your fingers away only for his fingers to wrap around yours. Unknown to any, around you.
The embarrassed frown of your face is half-formed before his fingers slip the ring into your palm.
With a mischievous smile, his hand moves away, looking for the ring he handed you.
A secret smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Perhaps this game wasn't just about the ring anymore. It never truly had been.
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animatorweirdo · 8 months
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Imagine being a nymph in Mirkwood
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(Inspiration from an imagine I once saw and after reading the hobbit. A lovely story and I finally get why the movies got the bad hype. I don't think the movies were bad, but if they had gone with the book version they would have been ten times more interesting)
Warnings: Mentions of sick forest, getting attacked by spiders, poisoned by spiders and Gandalf being a bit of a gremlin, and not helping the elves when they need the help the most.
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- Your appearance and presence have always perplexed the elves of Mirkwood 
- You just came and decided to live in the most dangerous parts of their woods, where sickness and darkness reigned over everything that lived there. 
- The elves took you for a spy or a lost traveler, so they tried to capture you, yet somehow you always escaped or disappeared before they could even arrive to the scene like you knew they were coming or hiding in the trees. 
- They never even had the chance to look at you since you always wore a hood over your face, so they couldn't even conclude if you were a human or even an elf. You were too tall to be a dwarf, and by chance– one of the scouts managed to catch a glimpse of your hands, which weren’t clawed or covered in rough skin, so you weren’t an orc. 
- When they failed to capture you or find you several times, they decided to leave you be since– capturing you proved to be too much of a challenge and since you didn’t appear to mean any harm to the forest or the animals. On the contrary, you seemed to have a curing effect on the forest. 
- To their surprise and confusion, green healthy grass and wildflowers began to grow in the sickened parts of their woods. The trees gave way to sunlight, making the forest more brighter. The rivers that used to be black and enchanted with terrible spells have loosened their power and become more clear. The air also seemed to taste much sweeter wherever you went. 
- The elves of Mirkwood began to wonder and conclude if you were a spirit of sorts, wandering and healing the forest with your presence and touch. They desired an answer but couldn't since you always ran away whenever they tried to approach you, even if they did not mean any harm to you. 
- One day, you became more mysterious when they heard delicate singing through the forests. It was pleasant and something they had never heard before. By chance, they managed to capture the sight of you dancing beneath the trees with animals by your side, singing from the core of your heart. 
- It was so joyful that the elves did not dare to disturb you and watched in wonder how even the trees began to move and hum with your voice. 
- Flowers grew along with your steps, and the sickness that once plagued the trees vanished, bringing them back to life and blooming with green leaves. It was now clear to the elves that you were no ordinary wanderer who sang and danced beneath their trees. Even the great spiders that lived above the trees cursed the effects of your song and left somewhere else, emanating great hate toward your presence. It was beyond wonderous. 
- However, you still ran away by the sight of them like a startled deer. You ran faster and swiftly like a fox. Before the elves could even call out to you, you were gone like the wind, leaving no trace of where you could have gone. 
- It confused and deeply saddened the elves since it seemed you were fearful of them. It left them wondering about your coming to their woods and if you had faced terrible things outside. 
- The elves left you be whenever you appeared again to either dance or sing to the forest, healing the sickly woods. 
- Some desired to find you or even take a peek beneath your hood to see your face, but their king ordered not to go after you or disturb you since you had such power over the darkness and the sickness in their woods. 
-One time, when the spiders had overcome a scouting party, a fight ensued, and many were injured. When one of their own was taken by the spiders and nearly killed, you appeared, running fast and with your hand enchanting the trees to protect the elf. 
- The spiders ran away when your voice broke through the air like an arrow, singing power that scared them away. 
- The elves were startled by the display of their trees attacking the spiders before trying to find their own and finding their kin treated by you. 
- You were kneeling beside the wounded elf, softly singing to them. The power of your song allowed flowers to grow around you and heal the elf from the spider’s poison. You waited with the elf till their kin arrived before disappearing into the woods again. 
- For saving one of their own, they felt grateful and gained an answer when they heard the spiders curse your presence and call you ‘a half blood’ and ‘an accursed nymph’ during their escape. They were words they had never heard before till later they learned what they meant when someone decided to investigate. 
- You were a nymph, one of the ancient spirits that were long extinct due to great devastation and darkness thousands of years ago—or a half nymph to be exact since the spiders called you a half-blood. 
- The news were received with great surprise and wonder as not even the oldest of their elves do not remember much of the nymphs, except that they were great caretakers of woods and plants. 
- One day, when the gray wizard Gandalf came for a visit, they learned your name and identity from him. You were a child born out of a union between a nymph and a human, and he had sent you here where you would be safe and more in tune with your nature. 
- He had hoped you would have found a home among them, but he seemed to have overestimated your timid nature since you still avoided contact with the elves. 
- The elves were delighted by the new information, but before they could ask Gandalf for some instructions on how to communicate with you because just like he came, he left with an amused laugh to continue his journey. 
- He simply told them they would find a way or you would eventually come to them yourself. 
- It was troublesome, but they found one way to communicate with you by leaving gifts in the forests. They mostly left fruits and food since you left the gifts you didn’t like untouched. In return, you also leave gifts for them such as herbs and stones they might appreciate. 
- The elves were happy and surprised since your gifts were rare herbs and stones they didn’t think could be found in Mirkwood. They didn’t complain though, and the little gift exchanging turned into a little tradition. 
- The elves sometimes took the chance to sing with you whenever they heard your songs. Sometimes you sang along, and sometimes you simply stopped and ran away. 
- The elves tried leaving letters for you along with the gifts, trying to tell you that you were welcomed to their kingdom if you only came to them. You mostly didn’t answer except one time you replied, telling you preferred living in the woods. 
- The elves of Mirkwood tried many times to get you to come to them, but eventually, they decided to let fate bring you to them when the time came. They did continue their little traditions with you, their strange little neighbor.
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witchofhimring · 2 months
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To you who is lost
Chapter 1: Duty is the death of love
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Chapter synopsis: Your husband leaves for despair and death. Left behinde, you are left at the mercy of others.
Warnings: Angst, abandonment, crying, pregnancy
Note: Usually I save notes for the end but this time I will also put some at the beginning. I am using their Quenya names (ex. Maedhros is called Maitimo).
Emmeril, Airin and llë are my OC's
You would lament thereafter for the lack of foresight. The wise in Arda would mourn their kindred, who had stepped out of bliss and into woe. Nerdanel, Amarië, Anairë, these great women of the Blessed Realm were linked in sorrow to those left behind. You joined this tragic assembly, united in regret. Days would waste away as you asked " What was there to be done?". Anguishing over every time you could have forestalled these harrowing events.
It had been a storm, slowly strengthening until its power was too great to prevail. Deceived, one and all had been taken in. Melkor's repentance had seemed so genuine. Save Tulkas and Curufinwe none had heeded any notion of trickery. Now the dark Vala's laughter rang in Angamando, echoing off the stone walls. In your own halls, you sighed. Brought so low you were a specter of the beautiful young elf maiden whose laughter had lit up Tirion. These days were dark with the Alduya felled.
"Will you come to bed?" Amarië, whose suffering was as great as yours, came forward. Together they cast their gazes to the darkness beyond. All of Arda had been plunged into an impenetrable shadow. Amarië's light was much dimmed, her golden hair hanging forlornly. She had always been pale and thin but her boundless joy had given her strength which many envied. They need envy no longer. Findaráto had sworn to return and Amarië held him to it. She was bound to him, although not formally, and believed he would return. For a time Amarië would remain before departing. She would dwell in her home and wait for Findaráto.
You had been gifted no such reassurance. Cast off, Maitimo had spurned every vow he made. Bitter words were exchanged, things that could not be unsaid. Unlike Amarië's stalwart serenity, you had wept. Your marriage had been waning for some time now. When Curufinwe stormed into exile you followed to Formenos. In Formenos you would lose your husband.
The laws of the Eldar commanded that husband and wife be one in all things. Never had you any cause to doubt these customs. Naturally, a husband and wife must cleave together. Growing up in a big, tightly-knit family, a certain worldview had been formed. There was never any doubt that if you married your husband would always protect you. And how could you not? Your father had always been so devoted to your mother, his desire to make her happy endless.
Your worldview had been, to a degree, changed when you married Maitimo. The house of Finwe had been in turmoil for quite some time. Since Finwe cemented his union Indis despite the protests of his son Feanaro, his progeny had torn at one another. Though to Nolofinwe's credit, the war was pitifully one-sided. Even those who had never encountered either prince heard of the brotherly animosity. A pungent cloud of this great house, many feared for the day a storm would break. Coming from a close family this was something of an anomaly. Your father had quarreled with his brothers, but nothing could sunder their bond. Your mother had her gripes with her sisters, but their love always brought them together again. Being the eldest of your family you had the unenviable job of keeping rambunctious youngers siblings in line. However no matter what troubles came your, love and affection remained. Perhaps this made the end inevitable.
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You begged him not to leave that day. The death of High King Finwë plunged all of Arda into grief. Sickening amounts of blood were saturated into the ground. From there after that very spot was stained by Melkor's vile deed. The smell sent your head reeling and burning bile to bubble. You had never seen a dead body before and abhorred the slaughter of animals. They might think you weak for it, but you knew this sight would curdle the blood of even the most austere of elves. Wails of despair took the place of joy. The light had faded and everything became dark. If only it had stopped there, oh by Eru how you wished this was the worst.
It all started on a day filled with joy. Manwë had summoned the Houses Fingolfin and Curufinwë, ordering peace between the two families. Brother took brother in hand and promised peace and friendship. Though how sincere Curufinwë was remained unknown. Many times you had witnessed Curufinwë rage over his younger brother. He howled over the "spawn of Indis" and cursed him. Such festering resentment could not be swept aside by simple sweet words. "I know we should be glad. But I can not help feeling dread." Maitimo simply took your hand in his. "I assure you that nothing bad will happen." His smile reassured you. Oh how wrong he was. When the darkness fell confusion and fear reigned. Finwë was dead, the Silmarills stolen and half of the Edain of Valinor gone. The only respite was Arafinwë returning to take leadership.
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All the lights went out. Melkor had drained the trees of all their light, and from there he fled. But there was no running from the darkness. Warmth and light were replaced by darkness and dread. Wails of the bereft took the place of laughter. You who had once been so full of joy had only despair for company. Things had been far from perfect even before the oath. When Curufinwë had been exiled your husband went with him. Of course, you understood his duty as the eldest son. But it didn't make the move from Tirion to Formenos. That day you had to leave behind all those you loved. Try as you might to sway Maitimo to stay, it worked to no avail. In those days you would have done anything for him, and so where he went you followed. You tried not to complain. Even when Curufinwë's temper became unbearable, or your friends stopped sending letters. You could not blame them, living in the court of temporary King Nolofinwë and keeping in touch with you was risky. At least your family was supportive. Your younger sisters and brothers But even in those cold days you still would never have thought Maitimo would leave you. The years had been trying, but he still cared for you in those days. Years later in the dead of night, as you lay awake, you wondered if every "I love you" had been a lie.
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"Please, if you have ever loved me you would stay." He did not meet your eyes. He just looked back to the army assembling in the courtyard below. "Have I not followed you all these years? What could I have done for you to cast me aside!" You seized his arm. Gently he pried you off him. "Y/n, you must understand that I have to go. Of course you may follow me-" "I have done nothing but follow you! Maitimo this is suicide!" It was at this point your father in law chose to appear, ascending the steps in a storm of fury. "If you do not choose to follow your husband, as you are sworn to do, then you are no wife!" Temperamental, yes, but now there was the flame of madness dancing in his eyes. Curufinwë had taken leave of his senses. "My vows said that I would follow him as my conscious dictates! As your wife has stayed in Valinor so shall I." The comment was poorly timed. Anger beat so furiously in your chest that you thought not of the consequences. With a roar of unbridled fury, Curufinwë drew his sword. Horrified, both you and Maitimo stepped back. The tip was right at your neck, an inch further would slice the flesh. "Depart, faithless wretch! And do not let me find you lurking in these hall again lest I strike you dead!" Maitimo drew you away and behind him. "You will cease your insults of my wife." You stared up at him in awe. Here he was standing up to his father, possibly the greatest of the Noldor. You had thought at that moment Maitimo had seen sense. He led you off to a room, away from his father and the chaos below.
"Maitimo!" You flung your arms around his shoulders. An elated kiss was placed on his forehead. But his eyes were sad with what you later realized was guilt. Gently he pried you off of him. He was gentle but his actions indicated he wanted to put distance between you and himself. "Do-?" You were unable to finish. Maitimo closed his eyes and whispered something so quietly under his breath you almost missed it. Almost. "Please." "Maitimo?" Your temporary relief was dashed as quickly as it came. "Y/n, I must follow my father." One could hear a pin drop. Your world had been torn apart, fractured almost beyond repair. "My Lord-Maitimo! You must not!" Your body was shaking, horror gripping you like a vice. Your legs seemed unable to hold themselves, such was the agony you felt at that moment. Falling to your knees, you started to beg.
"Husband, if you have any love for me then-" Suddenly Maitimo's could not even meet your eye. "You will not sway me Y/n." His voice was hard, cold, a tone he had recently adopted and that reared its head more and more frequently. You could not believe what you were hearing. Your husband seemed to disregard the bond between man and wife, that they must always stay side by side. And here he was abandoning you at your hour of need. You were scared. Finwë was dead and the rest were in self imposed-exile. The journey ahead scared you. To leave the safe haven of Valinor was suicide. You could understand avenging the King, you had great love and respect for him. And as King he must be avenged. But this was beyond simple revenge. This very act would tear apart the house of Finwë, and all of Valinor. Your family. Curufinwë's heart had turned dark and following him to this end. And there was another, more overriding reason. A shaking hand went to your stomach.
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It could be a lie to say that everything had been perfect before the darkening. Hard to admit, but your presence in the family was not welcomed by everyone. Curufinwë and his son who shared the same name looked upon you with disdain. You were to head-in-the-clouds for them to ever like. You tried, only to end in ridicule and failure. The escalation was partly your fault, afraid of causing trouble Maitimo was never told. Looking back, telling Maitimo might have been wiser. Alas, you did not. This was not to say the rest were unkind. Never had there been a great closeness between Tyelkormo, Carinstir and yourself, there was also never ill blood either. Though you were better acquainted with the latter's wife, Ilë. Macalaurë had always been kind but rather unapproachable, him being so proud. You supposed that was what Emmeril liked about him. The twins you were the closest to, out of the lot, Telvo and Pityo. His cousins hailing from the house of Nolofinwë you held a greater preference for. Save Turokáno who thought you rather silly.
There lay a great enmity between the houses Curufinwë and Nolofinwë. Or rather, Curufinwë held a deep mistrust and dislike of his younger brother. The ill sentiment had spread like a poison to all his kin, even the children. During the exile in Formenos you were forced to meet Findecáno and his younger sister, at times with Arakáno. Those years had been hard, especially for those such as Turkafinwë and Maitimo who forged deep bonds with their kin. Curufinwë the younger missed Írissë, despite his attempts to hide it. Those years in Formenos had been horribly lonely, bereft of company. With a family far away and friends forced to stay in Tirion company was limited. Only two friends had accompanied you. But denied company they soon started to despair. Despite what it cost you have them leave. Many tears had been shed that day. The resentment between the various members of Curufinwë started to devour the residents. Anger brewed, bitterness ensued.
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"And Indis's brood wander those halls, our halls! What right... what claim does the House of Indis have to my father's throne! The throne of my forefathers!" Around Curufinwë's table everyone sat, save Ilë who pleaded exhaustion. The rest of you were not spared Curufinwë's rage. Sitting next to Maitimo your hands shook, his hand on your knee. The twins sat closest to their father, though Telufinwë not leaning in as close. Turkafinwë's seemed unusually thoughtful, for such a brash elf. Curufinwë the younger's face was obscured from shadow, his silent wife beside him. Morifinwë was leaning in towards Curufinwë with a red flush crawling up his face. Kanafinwë and Emmeril sat on the sidelines, observers of Curufinwë's rant. You would give anything to leave this table.
"What of our Uncle Arafinwë?" Maitimo was far too fond of his half-uncles for Curufinwë's liking. You could see his thin pale lips tighten. His dark blue eyes, bloodshot, narrowed in on Maitimo. "He is his mother's son." Curufinwë's stance was clear. Your thoughts went to Amarië who you had not seen in years. Last you heard Findaráto had pledged to marry her. Wondering if Curufinwë would allow you to attend their wedding, you looked outside. Formenos was cut off from the rest of Valinor. Held up in these mountains it was hard to see anything else. It only served to make you feel more nervous.
"Though, I do wonder if not everyone is paying attention." Curufinwë's tone made it seem he was scolding a child. Except it was you. "My apologies." Quickly covering your mistake, you sat there rigidly. "My wife meant no offense." Maitimo was swift to defend. Curufinwë looked ready to say more but chose to abstain. All you could do was stare at your lap, numb with anxiety.
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Maitimo had changed. The bleakness and chill of Formenos had worn on everyone. Exhaustion had settled over the residents like a heavyweight. Loneliness became a constant companion, stalking you like a specter. In the beginning, it was not so bad. You spent time making this place a home. A small garden was built in the courtyard with help from Maitimo. Carefully you tended to the delicate petals, their white petals reflecting light. He would wind them in your hair, cascading down in a waterfall of flowers. They spent much of their time holed up inside their room. It became a safe haven, a world that separated themselves from all the torments outside. Light blue curtains adorned the windows, you had elected for a more simple style. Windows were left open a crack letting fresh air in. At times like these you could forget about everything.
The years passed and the bond between husband and wife started to crumble. A great toll was upheaving this family. Twelve years was but the link of an eyes to elves. For this family however, it dragged on. Every moment served to increase Curufinwë's rage and desire to avenge himself burned within. Like a disease it spread, its symptoms laying low the spirits of his heirs. Maitimo became sullen and the fire within seemed to flicker. The letters hailing from Tirion, where his beloved cousin Findecáno resided, remained unopened for days. When Maitimo finally did dare to gaze upon the contents they were for him only. Afterwards Maitimo would grow sullen once more and would disappear. Behind his back, although it brought guilt, you read its contents. It was the words of a cousin who missed his friend. He talked of times past and expressed joy in those to come. "I hope for further joy, so that all ill will become forgotten." He had written. Letters arrived from your sister as well. Airin was the closest in age to you, being only a few years your junior. Residing in the court of Anairë, Airin would provide information. King Nolofinwë ruled wisely and was much loved. Such tidings brought you no joy. Eru knew what Curufinwë might say. She was not the only one to bring information, Findecáno wrote to you as well, with affection that did little to curb a growing fear. He wished you well, that the days bring peace, but those words soothed not. There lingered an underlying anxiety to his words. Try as he might to cover it up.
"My dear daughter, we are well. But it would truly warm our hearts to know you too are well. Do not forget that all of us (yes, all of us) miss you dreadfully" Those letters remained in a safe wooden box. Sometimes you would read them when lonely. Even your brothers, who were a great many years younger, had written. Sadly, letters were no substitute for true company. Ilë, wife of Carnistir, was a good friend. But as time dragged on Ilë retreated and clung to her husband. Less and less she patrolled the halls, staying with her husband in solitude. Making friends with the other elf maidens, there was still a poignant loneliness. All they did was remind you of those left behind.
"It is merely your father's words, my love. Your uncle would never harm any of us." Your husband's anguish hurt you in turn. As a wife it was agonizing to know his pain and yet have no balm to heal the wound. Another one of Findecáno's letters lay forlornly on the bedside. Instead of bringing joy they served to torment. Maitimo was slumped against his chair by the windows. His bright blue eyes were focused on the mountains beyond. You stood beside him, fingers running through his red hair. For a while you said nothing. Gently you stroked his cheek which was unusually sallow. Leaning forward you kissed the cheek. Slightly, he leaned into your affection. "I know you will do what is right." Had those words strengthened him, or heaped on yet greater pressure onto Maitimo.
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Everything changed when that great host left Valinor. You were left alone and exposed with no one to protect you. Everyone was either gone or wanted nothing to do with you. Maitimo had ordered those of his followers who stayed behind to protect you. But would they be able to? And could you, in good conscience, place those who were under your care into great danger? Thank Eru Arafinwë took pity on your condition. You had been barricaded in Formenos for fear when the youngest son of Finwë and his host came upon the fortress. To your surprise, he brought along Indis and Nerdanel. Despite your disgrace, they brought you with them to Tirion.
You sat on a bench with an outlook to the garden below. Despite its glamorous beauty, it brought you no joy. There was no light for the Two Trees had been utterly drained. It felt like divine providence, the trees set and your love as gone. Now it was dark as the hole in your heart. "Y/n, dear, you should no linger in the cold for so long. "Nerdanel stepped out onto the outlook. " Is it dinner already?" You drew your cloak tighter around yourself. Instinctively your hands cradled your ever expanding belly. "Yes. And Indis has prepared your favourite." At one times these temptations would have been rather tempting. But no food could fill you. Not now. "If not yourself then at least for him." "You are so certain?" Coming from Nerdanel the Wise the idea she might already know was not preposterous. Relenting, you got up. The baby was all you had left.
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"And are we to forget that this woman chose to go into exile, against all common sense and decency." It was as you expected. Even with the new Lord of the Noldor beside you. It was Arafinwë's first council as leader (would that make him King now?) in the great halls. You remembered that last time you had been here. How Curufinwë unsheathed his sword and pointed it at his own brother. You recalled the horror and revulsion on the audience's face, and now all their eyes were on you. Every important lord and lady of Valinor were judging you. It hurt to know that some of them had once been your friends. Perhaps everything had been a lie. Your husband despised you and the rest of Valinor bore mistrusted.
"You forget, My Lord, that as a Princess and member of her lord husband's household, she was bound to follow him to whatever ends. It was only when it all became too much did Y/n depart from her husband. Her moral convictions won out, and despite their fëas being one she forsook him." Arafinwe's voice held a steely edge you had not yet heard before. The youngest son of Finwë was often misconceived as being shy, timid even. This was a misconception, he was simply quiet. Never should one misconstrue kindness for complacency. But one should never be complacent with the belief that silence means stupidity. Arafinwë stood up, white robes billowing behind him. You felt Nerdanel place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Have we fallen so far that we would attack a lonely woman? If we are to proceed with revenge in this matter, are we truly worthy to live amongst the Vala and Maia?' Some had the grace to look ashamed. Despite this, there were still some who had misgivings.
"My Lord, if I may speak." Lady Nimlothel served the house of Nolofinwë, more specifically it was his Lady wife she owed her allegiance to. With an elegant stride, she took the floor. "You may." Arafinwë answered, although his eyes looked wary. "The Lady Y/n is not responsible for her husband's ill deeds. Although I would like to add that Lady Nerdanel never fled into exile, a most wise decision. I suggest that the Lady Y/n retire, at least for a time. It would be unwise to allow such a remnant of Curufinwë's treachery to remain here." You felt so cold, so alone. They might not lock you up, but exile was little better. You would hide away, a forgotten remnant in a far off castle. An embarrassing chapter of Arda's history. Arafinwë sat down, troubled. "This council is dismissed. We shall convey at morning tomorrow."
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"We may reside by my parent's hearth. They extend this offer to you too." Emmeril had bolted the chest shut. Sitting on a bed you watched Makalaurë's wife hastening departure. She along with Airin, wife of Curufinwë the Younger (your husband's brother) remained in Valinor. Ilë alone had departed, swearing to follow her husband Morifinwë, to whatever end. You prayed to Eru she would be well. Airin had long since departed. Saddened over the loss of husband and son she departed, destination unknown.
"My Lady, is that all?" One of Emmeril's handmaidens entered. "Take these out to the yard, then we depart." Once the handmaiden departed Emmeril turned to you. "What do you hope to accomplish by staying?" The bond between Emmeril and yourself had never been great. It was not personal dislike so much as never truly understanding one another. Emmeril was stern and hard, chafing against your soft and easy nature. But she had never been cruel or given you reason for mistrust. Emmeril's reasoning was wise in this matter. Leaving Tirion could allow you to start anew. You might have done so if it were not for the babe that dwelt within you. What sort of life would your child have? A permanent exile for the rest of their days? Could you even call yourself a mother while condemning a child to such a fate? Emmeril may think you a fool, and perhaps she was right to think so. But you would not reveal this secret to her. Now was not the time and frankly you were not ready.
Emmeril did not stay long, but departed for her family's home. You watched her go until the last of her horses were over the hill. The room suddenly felt colder, more forlorn. A choked sigh bordering on sobs left your mouth. At times like these you would have walked in the garden with Ilë. Only it was pitch black out and Ilë was gone. A soft knock at your door alerted you. Amarië swept in, pink silk trailing behind. "Y/n, Nerdanel wishes to give council." Rising up you followed Amarië. The hallway was obscured with shadows, torches providing ailing light. Even with windows barred shut you could still feel a draft. Even Amarië seemed to feel it, drawing her robe tighter. Every step echoed in these silent halls. Most had either fled Tirion or barricaded themselves in their rooms. Only guards remained patrolling the halls.
Nerdanel had taken quarters next to Queen Indis. Was Indis even still queen? Suspiciously guards regarded your presence. "Lady Nerdanel had sent for Lady Y/n. Queen Indis is aware." They let you in with a look of reluctance on their faces. The swords on their sides glimmered in the torchlight. Only a short time ago none dared to disregard the Valar's ordinance. Now none dared leave their rooms without protection. Such were these sad times. Nerdanel bore her usual attire, baggy brown pants and a white shirt. Her hair, Nerdanel had her back turn to you, was tied in a loose braid. Rubble and tools lay scattered. When Amarië cleared her throat Nerdanel seemed to finally take notice. "Lady Amarië, thank you." Amarië curtsied and made to leave. "Hold-" "I must depart. Lady Nerdanel wishes to speak to you in private." Now it was just Nerdanel and you. Nerdanel lightly kicked a hammer out of the way and picked up a tray. You smelt citrus and a hint of cinnamon. Sitting down you watched Nerdanel pour a cup of tea. "Care for some?" You nodded. You had the feeling this conversation was not simple idle chat.
Nerdanel did not beat around the bush. After a sip, her grey eyes focused on you. The look was not critical, but the one she adopted when an important topic was at hand. "I heard Emmeril offered you a place at her family home. Why did you not go?" She was not being critical, just inquiring. "I have never been close to Emmeril. It would be an intrusion on my part." Nerdanel poured another cup. "Will you remain here indefinitely?" "Nerdanel I do not know what to do. I am lost. In leaving I condemn myself and the baby to exile. In staying ill may come too, for those that support the Houses of Nolofinwë and Arafinwë have no love of Curufinwë's kin." Nerdanel reached out calloused hands, worn by years of her craft. Your own was not so smooth, for years of gardening had hardened the skin. "Fate may be kinder to you. Our king wishes to provide what help he can." The attempt was well made, yet still you remained unsettled. "My fate is solely in the hands of others. If I stay then it is another exile. I banish my freedom. Perhaps I should leave and lessen others' hold on me." Nerdanel's gaze went to your belly. If one was unaware they would not know. But soon it would swell and then what would happen then? Your family would be harboring a potential heir. Arafinwë was good and wise, but the actions others you must look to. Would they see the baby as a contender? If you stayed at court then an alliance could be built and no one could accuse you of hiding.
"Do what you think is best for yourself and the baby Y/n. But do not forget, make sure you stand on your own feet."
Note: This story has been in my drafts since September and was originally meant to be a one shot. A story surrounding the lives of those who stayed in Valinor is something I have been interested in for a while now. I am unsure how long this story will be. I will also be using the Quenya pronunciation for everyone's names unless canonically one is not provided. All the sons of Feanor use their mother-name except for Curufin.
While I use Jodie Comers face in the gifs and aesthetics for this story it is not meant to be a face claim. I simply like to use a certain character/acter's face in each series.
My OC's (the unnamed wives of the sons of Feanor) are my stand ins for the wives in every fanfic going forward. This is unless I write an x-reader involving one of the three married sons. In that case I will simply write them out. But going forward in this story and others they will exist. I intend to make character profiles for them at some point.
If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!
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cilil · 17 days
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𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒾𝓇𝓈
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Characters: Mairon, Gothmog, Eönwë, Tilion & Ossë; reader's gender is unspecified - all up to your imagination~
Featuring: 2nd person POV, vampire!Mairon, werewolf!Mairon, monsterfucking, Balrog anatomy, avian Ainu, merman, some Dom/sub dynamics, bit of predator/prey and other kinks, penetrative sex, intercrural sex, dirty talk
Warnings: Possessive themes, smut, tiny bit of degradation branding/burn marks, blood drinking/vampirism, mentions of impact play (whipping, spanking), swords/blades, bit of blood, biting, scratching
AN: Thanks to everyone who voted on my poll (back in the day). Sorry for the delay and here are your top choices plus our favorite birdy boy - hope you enjoy!
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Mairon
𓂀 Once your heart is his, Mairon makes sure to live up to his reputation as the Lord of Gifts and the Lord of the Rings. Whether it is to seal a bond of marriage, asking for your hand or a promise of love and courtship, he crafts a beautiful ring just for you - showing everyone that you are now his and possibly also enhancing said ring with a few spells so he can watch over you.
𓂀 Yet gold is not the only way for him to mark your body; he also loves to use his fire to ensure neither you nor anyone else will ever forget where you belong. Mairon's preferred symbol to draw on your skin is The Eye, and he loves to place it right on your neck or chest so he can see it every time he takes you.
𓂀 His love and desire for you take many forms, as does he; when in the shape of a vampire, he enjoys biting you and drinking your blood while he makes love to you, strengthening the bond between you. He may sing to you to keep you calm while he feeds, and his song causes the wound and the vein he drank from to appear golden for a time until it slowly fades. Mairon expects you to wear those marks with pride and not cover them up.
𓂀 Whenever his form has more wolfish attributes, he also likes leaving bite marks, but his favorite feature is his knot. He loves how it swells inside you and stretches you out while he breeds you and how it keeps his seed inside until he decides he's done with you for the night.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
"Do you think you can take it?" 
Mairon slams into you with the full strength of his fána, making sure you can feel every inch of his hot, hard cock stretching you out without mercy. 
"Do you think you can take my knot, my precious little slut?" 
You barely manage to nod before a searing hot sensation makes you cry out in pain and pleasure alike. The eye symbol, proudly adorning your chest, glows in response to his words, like on the day when you were first marked by his hand. 
Satisfied with your obedience, Mairon stops moving and allows his seed to fill you. His knot swells proudly, binding you to him, and you try to muffle another scream — only for him to deter you with a quick slap on your thigh. 
"No," he says firmly, "let me hear it. I want to hear how much you love this, and you will not deny me."
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Gothmog
☄ Contrary to popular belief, Gothmog can be affectionate and isn't afraid to show it. He likes to keep you close in public and holds you like a pretty little doll, making it clear to everyone that you belong to him and no one else may come close to you, let alone touch you. Even when he isn't around, the scent of fire and heat of his touch seems to surround you everywhere you go.
☄ Yet make no mistake: The Lord of Balrogs is incredibly strong and likes it rough. He may use his claws and fangs to as part of passionate love making and leave bite and scratch marks in strategic spots to ensure that everyone knows he has claimed you. Carry your marks with pride: To Balrogs, they are a symbol of strength and a sign that you belong.
☄ Gothmog's favorite way to claim and mark you, however, is fire - but he won't use his whip unless you ask him to. Instead, he may opt to simply use his hands to leave a nice and warm hand print on your skin; the same applies to any sort of impact play where he uses his hands instead of any tools. The touch of a Balrog leaves a lingering feeling of either cosy warmth or searing heat, and which one it will be is his choice to make.
☄ Aside from horns that you can hold on to, Gothmog also has a tail - and yes, he can and will use it. Not only is it a convenient as an additional limb to wrap around you and pull you close when his hands and arms are occupied and to keep others away from you, but he can also use it to fuck you if he so chooses, be it to tease you or for double penetration. He loves to test your limits.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
"What a pretty little thing you are." Gothmog pats your head with his large hand while he continues to effortlessly bounce you on his lap as if you weigh nothing. 
You would have cried out from the intensity of his massive cock thrusting in and out of you rapidly, but all you manage is a muffled moan; your mouth is currently occupied by the tip of his tail. 
"We don't need the entire fortress to hear you," Gothmog said beforehand, and you agreed. 
He is — for his standards — gentle with you, but you also know that there isn't much mercy to be had in Angband. You consider yourself lucky to be with him. 
Your thoughts are interrupted when Gothmog rakes the claws of his free hand down your back and chuckles when he feels your throat vibrate with muted screams. 
"And so good for me too," he adds to his previous statement. "Keep taking me so nicely and I might even let you rest after this round."
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Eönwë
⚔ As sweet and affectionate as Eönwë is with you in private, he's not exactly fond of others trying to compete, particularly during avian mating season. He stays with you whenever he can, guarding you like a precious treasure, and watches the people who approach you, both when's nearby and when he's somewhere else. Should another suitor be so foolish as to approach you anyway, they will soon notice a very irate Maia glaring at them and posturing aggressively, every single feather fluffed up.
⚔ While you two are still courting and not quite ready for marriage yet, Eönwë presents you with a lovely promise bracelet or anklet (your choice), made of his favorite materials that he gathered himself. Nothing makes him happier than seeing you wear it, and conveniently enough it also serves as a reminder to other suitors that you are very much taken - by the chief of the Maiar, no less.
⚔ When Eönwë makes love to you, he can be gentle, but he can also be feral. Sometimes his desire simply overwhelms him. Depending on his current form, he has talons on his hands and will make use of them to mark you, even drawing ancient patterns on you to show everyone who claimed you. You can also expect to find yourself covered in love bites, with his favorite area being your neck.
⚔ If you enjoy rough sex and agree to try out some more "extreme" kinks, Eönwë would love to make use of his sword - the song of steel and battle is ingrained in his very being, after all. As much as the rational part of him hates to see you hurt, the feral part of him is fascinated by the way you shiver when a cold blade is pressed against you or when it leaves beautiful lines of red on your skin and draws a few droplets of blood.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
Cold steel bites into your skin as the blade touches your throat, but you only have eyes for Eönwë. He's breathing heavily, and his fána glows with barely contained lust. 
"I want you," he breathes. 
You spread your legs in silent invitation. Surely he must know that you are already his; even if you decided to fight back now, which is the last thing on your mind, he would be too strong for you. 
"Exactly like this," Eönwë says then, and you understand. He wants to take you with his sword at your throat, utterly at his mercy, and your skin prickles with excitement. 
The prospect of submitting to the greatest warrior of the Maiar so completely is thrilling. 
Eönwë enters you with one swift thrust, his free hand reaching for your hip. You make sure not to move, as you know he wants from you, and welcome him inside. The blade presses against your skin, but only lightly; his hold is steady, his posture impeccable, no blood is drawn. 
You surrender. 
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Tilion
☽ Tilion loves antlers, his pride and joy when it comes to his fána, and wants to share that with you. If you yourself are an Ainu and grow your own pair, he will paint them silver with moonlight. If not, he will gladly hunt beasts of your choosing for you to claim their horns or antlers as a prize for you to wear and paint them as well. Nothing makes him more proud than everyone seeing that you belong to him.
☽ In order to make sure you are always safe, even when he isn't around, Tilion also crafts protective moon charms, infused with the light of Telperion's fruit. These are designed to keep creatures of darkness away, fearing his wrath, and may also glow to alert you to nearby danger. Not least of all they come with the additional benefit of letting everyone know that Tilion is only ever one call away.
☽ He loves to be intimate with you whenever he can, worshiping your body to his heart's content. Like his own hunt and war paint, Tilion enjoys painting your skin with matching patterns. These are expressions of love and companionship, glowing hymns to your beauty, but also marks of ownership and desire.
☽ For as hopelessly romantic as Tilion is, never forget that he's also a hunter. When lust overwhelms him, he is a passionate and wild lover, and sex with him can get rough. He enjoys chasing you, catching you and holding you down while he takes you, as well as leaving bite marks all over your body. Rest assured though that he will take good care of you after and do anything to ensure that you're comfortable and at ease.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
"You are too beautiful for your own good," Tilion sighs, smiling as he kisses you on the lips. 
You are both naked, lying together on a bed of moss in the woods of Oromë, and panting heavily after a wild and lengthy chase. Of course your lover has caught you in the end and carried you to a comfortable hidden spot to enjoy his prey. 
Tilion trails his hand down your chest, your stomach, your lower body, and you spread your legs in anticipation. He wants you, you can see it; his midnight blue eyes darken with desire. 
"There you go, little deer," whispers gentle praise against your lips before pushing two fingers inside of you. "You will be all nice and wet for me soon, won't you?" 
You nod. Of course you will be; how could you not when you are with your beloved hunter, chasing your love and your pleasure with no less determination and ferocity than he chases his prey. 
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Ossë
⚡︎ Ossë is a capricious and jealous lover. His feelings for you are strong and passionate, and he will fight anyone who wishes you ill - or comes closer than he would like. The storms he conjures are mighty, and even if Ulmo and Uinen stop him from giving in to his jealousy, Ossë is also a mischievous Maia who will find other ways to mess with those who have wronged you or him.
⚡︎ You will find yourself getting showered with gifts from him, various trinkets that he picks up in the oceans of Arda: Pearls, seashells, items and parts from sunken ships, bones, teeth and also all sorts of fish and sea creatures he caught for you. Ossë delights in swimming, diving and hunting to his heart's content, but most importantly coming home to you with something new to show you.
⚡︎ Just like he himself is wild and fierce, so is intimacy with him. You will find yourself completely soaked, regardless of whether he takes you in the water (as he prefers) or outside, and covered in bite and scratch marks; Ossë simply can't resist taking a bite out of something as beautiful as you are. He also loves the thought that everyone can tell what you two have done afterwards.
⚡︎ Ossë enjoys being on top of you, all around you and inside you, having his tail wrapped tightly around you. After he's done making love to you, he likes carrying you around like a precious little pearl and singing to you in ancient tongues until you fall asleep. You may also notice that, whenever you've been with him, the scent of seawater sticks with you for days.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
The sand feels warm against your skin, but Ossë's form is cool and smooth. He rolls over so he's lying on top of you, his tail wrapping around your legs, and flashes you a toothy grin, like a hungry sea monster about to devour its unfortunate prey. 
"Should I take you here, marilla? Or should I drag you to the bottom of the ocean first?" he teases. 
Clawed, webbed fingers hold onto you possessively, and Ossë wastes no time nibbling on the side of your neck as you writhe underneath him. 
"Please have mercy, o lord of storms," you gasp, entertaining his little game to entice him to go on. 
You know your words had the intended effect when you feel something hard pressing against your thigh. 
"Perhaps I will," Ossë muses, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 
His tail keeps its grip on your legs, and he pushes his now-exposed cock between your thighs to rut against you.
"We will even start slowly," he whispers, "but worry not. You shall feel my full strength soon enough."
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
marilla (Quenya) - pearl
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Thanks for reading! ♡
taglist: @angbangbaby @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @saintstars @singleteapot @urwendii
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tinfairies · 1 year
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ELROND! SMUT!
*ahem* elrondsmut?
It's Bedtime
Elrond x Fem!Reader Smut
Minors DNI
The sun had long since set. The large chambers were lit only by a beside oil lamp. The Lord of Rivendell was sat up in bed, reading. Just like every other night. His Lady had gotten out of the bath, wrapped in her large fluffy towel she emerged from the washroom.
Elrond's eyes did not leave his book, not when she had dropped her towel and certainly not when climbed onto the bed. His attention was only caught when lowered his book. He raised a brow at her, trying not to glance at her nude body.
"Can I help you, my love?" he kept his lips from curling into a smirk. His Lady hummed and crawled forward, pulling his book from his hands and setting it aside. Elrond just eyed her curiously, wanting to see how far he could push her. She had straddled his hips, her cunt was hot on his cock even through the fabric of his pants.
Elrond just looked up at his lover, daring her to try and get what she wants. She huffed as if reading his mind. Her hips rolled against his, and he grabbed his book, flipping it back to the page he was on. He did his best to act bored with her, she pouted. Her hand came down between them, she stroked at his cock through the fabric. He still showed no interest, his eyes locked on the book.
She struggled to get his cock free, and then struggled even more to sit down on it. Despite his apparent disinterest, his cock betrayed him. The tip leaked precum and throbbed under her touch. She finally sunk down, her greedy cunt sucking him in. The Lady mewled, feeling so full and stretched. She looked to her lover, his breathing had picked up and his face was just ever so slightly flushed.
He was breaking. Good.
She leaned forward and started to kiss at his neck, the Lady refused to move her hips. She wanted to see just how long Elrond could take it. Her cunt pulsed and squeezed around his throbbing cock. He sighed and glanced at her, feigning irritation.
"You better fuck yourself on my cock or you're going to be sitting there all night."
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doodle-pops · 1 year
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Think You Can Warm Me Up
[Elves and Cockwarming x reader]
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Request: What elves do you think would like cock-warming? - anon
A/N: This was a lot of elves to think for since I've added more over the months gone by. Enjoy!!!
Warning: smut, cockwarming
More: Brat Taming
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Loves it – sometimes when they’re too busy to have sex with you but you want to feel them, they’ll suggest you sit on their lap, only to feel them raising your body slightly to slide themselves into you. When you lift your hips to move, their hands will be planted firmly on your waist with a stern look on their faces warning you to stay still. They’ll keep their hands on your waist, using it to pull you closer to rest against their chest and hold you down. Some use it for punishment when your bratty side comes out. They’ll rile you up by making out with you, having you grind on them feeling as though you two are about to have sex, but then when you’re about to ride them, they’ll lean in to whisper, “Not so fast love, no moving, sit right there and stay still or I’ll leave you empty. You thought I’d just give in and give you what you wanted, my poor confused little one” Other times, they’d use it to literally warm themselves up. When you two are relaxing as such, they’d throw the suggestion out to you and once you agree, the two of you will just be lounging about with their cock buried in you, staying warm. There are times you’ve fallen asleep with them buried in you. “You feel so warm and tight love, stop shifting so much, just stay still. This feels good, now we can cuddle.”
MAEDHROS, Maglor, CELEBRIMBOR, FINGOLFIN, FINGON, Finarfin, FINROD, AEGNOR, GLORFINDEL, GALDOR, BELEG, Rog, Elrond
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Hates it – the first time you suggest the act, they were down to try it, but once you sank your warm hole onto their cock, it was over for them. Their hands would immediately shoot out to grab your waist, urging you to move but you’ll simply push it away and lean into their chest informing them that you’re not supposed to move. “It’s called cockwarming for a reason. Now stay still. Don’t get mad, remember you agreed to this, so sit and enjoy it.” This was absolute torture for them, they couldn’t take it anymore. Knowing that if they moved their hips right then, you’d probably hop off and that wasn’t part of their plan. Waiting till you were settled in and comfortable, with ease, their hands would sneak around your waist holding you firmly to their chest and without any warning, begin thrusting into you. You’d admit that this was not how you planned the session to go but with the way the tip of their cock was brushing against your soft spot, your moans gave it away. Now whenever you suggest it to them, they’d smile at you saying that they’ll behave, only to abuse your heat as soon as you sink down on their cock. The longest they’ve ever lasted was five seconds. “If you really thought I’d sit through all that torture, you’re absolutely wrong. Now be a good girl/boy and enjoy my cock.”
FEANOR, CELEGORM, Curufin, Turgon, ARGON, ANGROD, EGALMOTH, ECTHELION, MAEGLIN, ELLADAN
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Mixed feelings – one minute it’s torture for them the other it’s blissful. It just all depends on their mood not so much yours. If they’re tired and just want to be warmed or you want to feel them, they’d let you go ahead without interrupting you. They’d simply wrap their arms around you and pull you in closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and drifting off to sleep. Other times it’s when they’re busy doing paperwork and could do with a little relief. Letting you sit on their lap with the table hiding their cock buried deep in your heat, they’d let you lean into them so they could continue their work. “This feels good, didn’t think I’d be needing this, but after I’m finished here, I’d bend you over this table for a good fuck, hmm.” When you’re teasing them all day and acting up and then decide it’s time to kick it up a notch by making them feel you were about to ride them after your tedious torture only to sit still on their cock, now you’re just asking for it. They’d be grinding their teeth the entire time when you tell them not to move while pretending to do something important, informing them that when you’re finished then you two can go at it, they’re not going to listen, not when you were suffocating their cock. They wouldn’t care at that point, so say goodbye to whatever it was that you were doing. “Don’t you think this is a little too much love, don’t you think this has gone on for too long because I think so as well. How about we change that by having me fuck you, now.”
Maedhros, MAGLOR, CARANTHIR, Amrod, Fingolfin, FINGON, TURGON, FINARFIN, Finrod, AEGNOR, Glorfindel, GALDOR, Egalmoth, ROG, ERESTOR
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Masterlist
Taglist: @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @lilmelily
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Elrond with a shy apprentice reader hc
Elrond x Reader (can be seen as platonic & romantic)
A/N: I'm back and I have a few ideas for fics again. But if you have any then feel free to request them. Because I'm lacking a bit of creativity at the moment.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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♡♡♡♡♡♡
♡ When Elrond and Glorfindel find you injured in the forest (you were attacked by orcs), you have already treated some of your wounds yourself
♡ Elrond has been looking for a new healer for a long time as he could do with a bit more help and recognises your talent
♡ You are very shy and hardly dare to heal even the smallest injuries at first
♡ But Elrond encourages you and tells you he won't train just anyone to be a healer
♡ In the beginning, he places his hands over yours as you heal, as your hands tremble with uncertainty
♡ The two of you spend a lot of time together
♡ Sometimes even in your free time, because when you're around Elrond feels like he can relax a bit more and doesn't have to keep an eye on everything because your presence gives him security
♡ When you have just started to take care of big wounds, Elrond has to ride out to fight some orcs
♡ He is very badly wounded, Glorfindel has done all he can for him, but now Elrond needs a proper healer
♡ And even if you're not sure how you're going to manage it, you can't just let Elrond die
♡ So you summon up all your courage and the knowledge you've gathered so far and get to work
♡ As you slowly and painstakingly heal every wound on Elrond's body, no matter how small, you hear his voice in your head the whole time, encouraging you, and imagine he is standing next to you and not being the one whose life is in danger
♡ Eventually it takes you all night to finish and you fall asleep next to his bed, your forehead resting on the corner of his pillow
♡ When you woke up, you felt Elrond gently stroking your hair and telling you how proud he is of you
♡ That was the first time you realised how important he is to you, because it was one thing to imagine his voice and another to finally really hear it again
♡ You wrap your arms around Elrond and were just glad to have him back and you were determined never to leave his side again
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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Noldo elf: everything is ready for the trip my lord, now please make sure to secure the most important small things you have.
Maedhros, securing Y/N under his right arm: I'm ready!.
Noldo elf, looking at Y/N with confused look
Y/N: He can't sleep without me so yeah.
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eunoiaastralwings · 2 months
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My Prince
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featuring fingon x reader
fandom tolkien - silmarillion
a/n I missed writing for my silm folks
You always admired from afar as he rode upon that magnificent horse.
The prince’s long hair caught against the wind – it flowed as delicately as the waters of the Teleri.
The sun rays shining on his soft skin as his blue eyes narrowed in determination as himself and his horse trusted one another with every race, jump and leap.
Every day you sat underneath the tree – you back resting against – as the prince rode his horse.
This would be the only time a simple lady like yourself can watch one of the princes of Ñolder – the first prince of Ñolofinwë.
The first-time prince Findekáno caught your eyes many moons ago – you were only a child then and you had wandered off only to find yourself stuck in a muddy pit.
No one came to your aid even as you cried for hours in that lonely field – until the little prince found you himself.
You swore he was joking when he introduced himself as a prince – almost laughing at his face.
He didn’t take it too well, having made a grumpy and pouting face at you – but nevertheless being the kind ner he was even then as a young child he tried to help you out of the muddy it you had yourself stuck in.
You couldn’t help but watch as he got himself into all sorts of mischief just to get you out – eventually he had even gotten his horse, his friendly companion, who was only a mere foal at the time and pulled you out by racing on him.
You only rarely saw him afterwards – of course he was once the princes, where did he have the time to search for clumsy nis he once helped out.
But you saw him again – and while your eyes didn’t always meet, you were happy having gotten used to watching him from afar.
Just like you were doing now – pretending to be reading when your eyes were really on prince Findekáno and his trusted companion.
You came here almost every day – just to see him – having now fallen for him for many years now.
Your heart fluttered at the sight of him.
Then suddenly – his eyes met yours in a split second catching your gaze and you immediately hid your face with the book you were reading.
For a moment – you heard nothing but the wind around you as you held your breath.
You frowned – not hearing a sound and figured you had imagined the scenario.
So slowly you peeked from the book – you frowning seeing no sign of the prince of his horse.
You looked around the field – but nothing, it was as if he had only just vanished.
Then – you got up placing your book back in your little basket as you got up – dusting your dress, still confused as to where the prince silently disappeared to.
You were too focused on trying to find prince Findekáno – you had suddenly missed your footing, slipping against the mud.
Just as you fell – suddenly you heard a horse neighing and a strong arm wrapped around your waist from behind simultaneously, instantly being pulled up – breaking your fall so you do not hurt yourself.
For a moment – you only felt the rush of air and heard the pounding of hooves.
Slowly then you blinked your eyes open nervously – shocked to find yourself on the back of the beautiful horse that belonged to the prince you secretly loved.
You tensed – feeling your back pressed up against the prince.
The heat rushed to your cheeks as you heard his breathy amused chuckles from behind.
“It seems you’re still as clumsy – I may need to save you every time, my little damsel in distress.”
You heard – light heartedly teasing you.
You turned knowing meeting his eyes – the dimples on his cheeks making your heart flutter.
“Forgive me, prince Fi-”
But you cut yourself off – listening to his words as he kept riding his horse with you in front.
“…Every time?”
You frowned – looking at him again.
He smiled playfully and politely at you – and slowly rode into a gentle stop.
“Well, he and I haven’t forgotten our first rescue.”
The prince grins at you.
It was then you noticed how the horse was reacting to you – the stallion was quite calm in your presence, in fact he didn’t seem startled or nervous like horses usually were with strangers.
He slowly reaches up – turning its head allowing you to brush through his mane.
“He remembers you. . .as do I. . .”
Prince Findekáno tells you gently.
Your eyes widened as he spoke – looking at him shocked at a prince like him would remember you out of all people. . . ?
“My lady, why do you look very surprised to hear my words?”
He smiles at you – a small smirk hiding too.
“I did not. . .well it was many moons ago, my prince. . .”
“Perhaps – yet you did not forget me, you watched me every day and never approached me again – I must say that wounds me so.”
Prince Findekáno says to you.
“Well. . .you’re a prince and I. . .well I. . .”
“- A fair maiden worthy of many things. . .”
He finishes – a sincerity in his tone that speaks volumes for his well upbringing.
“You think so, my prince?
You blushed.
“Yes – I ought to do so. . .”
He says – and you believed then – taking the chance to now see him from up close that far away.
Eunoia's taglist:@mismaeve @fizzyxcustard @wandererindreams @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @asianbutnotjapanese @bunson-burner @floraroselaughter @doodle-pops
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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year
Note
(not me being so quick to send a request, i cannot sleep right now) hi, kia! ꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ u know i had to kindly send in a request for my little meow meow — so, imagine: melkor’s vala!lover feeling his cold fingers touching her soft skin as he presses his lips on hers while she sleeps, which leads to both of them, you know, fucking ∗´ര ༝ ര`∗ and, well, melkor feeling his heart flutter and soar when he hears her whiny confession about how she loves him very much as she cums so prettily around him ˶•~•˶ i am soft, and if you do write it, tysm! take care! —🕊️
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──── 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˊˎ -
☾ ⋆ ゚𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: AWWWW I'm a sucker for writing either merciless sadist dom Melkor or sleepy soft Melkor and no in between dhfgkdfag 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Melkor | Morgoth x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, sleepy sex, creampie
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You had been stirred awake by cold lips pressed to your mouth and even colder fingers skimming across your exposed body. Oddly enough, one of your first thoughts upon waking was one that you had regularly: it was so very ironic for permanently burnt, blackened hands to be so cold – a part of you expected them to always hold the searing heat of the glittering jewels that had forever deformed them. 
A sleepy moan slipped past your lips and was quickly swallowed by his mouth as you groggily reached up to cup his face in your hands, feeling the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones like the faces of the harsh mountains surrounding his home, your home. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake you like this and so, when the two of you finally pulled away, you brushed his hair back gently, tucking those sheets of midnight silk behind his pointed ears as you gazed up at him. 
Your eyes were so beautiful to Melkor, especially when you gazed up at him like this. Your eyes were big, bright, kind and he could spend eternity wandering their depths. 
“What’s wrong, hm?” You murmured as you leaned up just enough to peck the corner of his mouth. “You’re tense…” You pulled him down and turned your body so that his face was against your chest, your arms wrapping around him to play with his hair and slightly scratch your nails over his shoulder blades. 
“It’s just been a long day of commanding production in the forges… We lost a lot of orcs in the last battle and now the armoury workers are falling behind. We cannot arrange a counter attack without the necessary provisions…” There was an edge to his voice by the end of his answer and you simply dipped your head down to press a kiss to his hairline before pulling him in tighter, wishing to soothe him with your embrace and grant him a break from the stresses of being the Dark Lord. You softly shushed him as you steadied out your breathing in the hopes that he would mirror you and relax some. 
“Well you can worry about that in the morning, it’ll do you no good to keep on stressing in your own time now.” You assured him, “You’re an excellent leader and you have a brilliant lieutenant helping you out too… everything will be fine, dearest.” You assured him and were met with a groan in reply that you knew would be followed by a list of reasons as to why he was sure everything would not be fine. So, to curb said list of reasons, you distracted your lover with one of the best ways that you knew how. 
Your hand on the back of his head that had been threading through his hair now pushed his face into your chest, your boobs pressed together with how you were laying on your side and any protest that he might have had was shut up when anything he tried to say was muffled within your cleavage. However he showed no signs of retaliation and instead wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer, tangling your legs as he let out a content moan into the plush skin of your breasts. 
“Because there are better ways to spend your time than fretting, aren’t there?” You suggested with a seductive lilt to your tone and Melkor, in turn, squeezed you before you felt his lips begin to trail open-mouthed kisses across your plush flesh. You simply let out a pleased hum and buried your face in his hair as little shivers danced through your body to the sensation of his intimacy. You held him even closer and could feel the rumble of his laugh and some muffled words before you eased up your hold just a bit. 
You were rolled onto your back, your nightshirt bunched up in his large hands and pushed to just beneath your breasts as his lips pressed earnestly to your sternum. 
“And I suppose that smothering me is the better pastime?” He mused, pale grey eyes rolling up to meet your gaze. 
“You didn’t seem too opposed.” You teased back and you could feel the curved smile upon his mouth as he kissed down your body, hands cupping your hips to coax you to lift them. 
“Hm… I think I’d rather be smothered elsewhere right now…” Your hands flew down to tangle in his silken tresses when his mouth made its way between your legs and he wasted no time in lapping at your arousal as though it were a delicacy. He ate you like a man savouring the sweetest dessert right up until you felt yourself on the cusp on an orgasm and you pushed him away by the shoulder with a shaky palm. 
“No, want…” Your chest rose and fell rapidly with your panted breaths as you tried to take in a breath deep enough to get your words out, “Want to come with you ‘nside me.” He let out a moan at your words, a proud smile on his slick-coated lips before he made a show of licking them clean. 
His arm hooked beneath the arch of your spine to tug your body closer to his in one swift motion so that your chest was pressed to his and the sensation of your plush breasts pressed against him only sent heat further pooling beneath his belt that he was pulling open in impatient, jerky motions. 
He wasted little time in sinking into you, slowly, observant of your facial expressions to ensure that he wasn’t hurting you. Melkor knew how to hit all of your sweet spots and so he wasted no time in grinding into your mushy cunt, repeatedly rubbing against a place that had you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body with your arms looping around his neck as your back arched up to press your chest against his. 
“There you are, pretty…” He cooed once he heard the sweet moans you were muffling against his neck. You whined as he pulled out right to the swollen tip of his cock before crying out as he suddenly plunged right back into you. He then set up a slow but hard pace, groaning and sighing at the pleasurable sting of your nails in his back. 
You let out the sweetest noises as his hands on your waist slid down to your hips, pausing briefly to squeeze them, before wandering further down to your thighs. He squeezed your soft flesh as though you were a being to be revered by all. You soon found your knees nearly on either side of your head and your head fell back against the bed as he could now reach even deeper into you and as you were still completely waking up, all you could think of was just how full you felt. 
“M’kor…” You stuttered out his name between quick, panted breaths and increasing moans, one of your hands on his back gliding over his shoulder and to his jaw which you cupped in your palm, fingers tangled in his midnight hair so that you could pull him down into a messy kiss. “So good… so good to me.” He muffled a moan against your neck as your pussy squeezed around him tighter but you didn’t allow him to keep his noises quiet like that, instead swallowing all of his moans with desperate, clumsy kisses as your body seemed to tense up with the coil in your abdomen that was on the very verge of snapping. “Love you… I love you, I love you so much!” You rambled out as you came around his cock, keeping your legs locked around him so that he couldn’t pull out of you as his hips continued to piston against your in wet paps, your arousal and orgasm now slicking his abdomen. Oh how you made his hardened heart flutter when you said such sweet things while he pounded your little cunt. 
You clung to him as though your life depended on it, fingers tugging on his hair as you felt the warmth of his load spilling into you, your legs trembling at the small rolls of his hips as he began to grind into your cum-filled cunt. The two of you were panting as he collapsed onto your body, peppering your neck in kisses as you buried your face in his dark hair, holding him close to your body. 
After a few minutes of silence, you were the first to speak up: “Feeling better?” 
“Much, my love.” He breathed out, resting his head upon your chest, “I love you.” He melted further into you at the sensation of your fingers gently detangling his hair, running over his scalp, “Oh, I love you…” 
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lamemaster · 7 months
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Ways to Coax Your Beloved
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Pairing: Glorfindel x Reader
Genre: Romance, fluff (i swear) , sprinkle of angst
Summary: What began as a minor disagreement now feels like an insurmountable chasm between you two. Never before had an argument lasted so long.
AN: written directly on Tumblr interface this is my mania. Enjoy!
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"I've brought us some snacks," you carefully balance the tray on the balcony railing. "Cakes, tea, cookies, crackers, cream rolls – I've got everything." He remains facing away from you, his back tense and unyielding to your words.
"Glorfindel," you take a hesitant step closer, your hand hovering in the air. But before you can say more, he disappears once again. This has been the pattern for a week, the longest and most trying week of your life.
What began as a minor disagreement now feels like an insurmountable chasm between you two. Never before had an argument lasted so long. Your beloved simply did not care to hold on to grudges for long.
Sighing, you lifted the tray, contemplating an excuse that wouldn't draw the pitying gazes of the kitchen staff.
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"How do you coax a sulking elf?" Erestor looks up from his book. You had never really conversed much with him before this. There was never a reason to. "Specifically a thousands of years old being whose been born twice and is quite a legend."
Much to your surprise, Erestor does not find your humor hilarious. Leave for slight amusement in his eyes there is little appreciation for your jest.
"I would rather you not discuss this with me," the stern looking elf replies as he simply turns back to his tomes. Yikes! Awkwardly swinging your arms you try to plan for a slightly less awkward exit. "Ah yes," picking up the closest book you plan for your emergency exit from the unforgiving company, "I would like to get this book."
With another scathing look directed your way, Erestor meticulously wrapped your borrowed book in a fancy-looking cloth. "Keep it away from any water, heat, or dirt. Any damage is unacceptable," he instructed curtly.
You solemnly nodded, understanding the gravity of his instructions. "Sounds good," you responded with a casual tone, but Erestor's raised eyebrow reminded you that casualness wasn't his forte.
As you turned to leave, you almost collided with the bookshelf, which seemed to have crept up on you. "Oof," you muttered, swaying your way out of the room.
Then, Erestor's voice halted your steps. "Try Asfaloth," he suggested.
With a wide grin, you turned around and threw a jolly salute to Erestor, who had already returned to his books as if nothing had changed.
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Armed with Erestor's invaluable intel, you ventured to the stables. Before arriving there, you made sure to thoroughly search your quarters, Glorfindel's rooms, and other frequently visited areas of the dwelling. Finally, you descended to the stables, where your beloved's horse awaited.
"Asfaloth, my boy, how I've missed you!" Your heartfelt enthusiasm was met with an equally excited neigh from the elegant white stallion. Despite towering over you, Asfaloth possessed a temperament that invited nurturing from anyone.
Performing a playful dance with light stomps to celebrate your arrival was entirely unnecessary but undeniably enjoyable. Or perhaps it was the not-so-well-concealed carrots you held in your hands that fueled your jubilant display. "Have you seen him?" you posed a question to the horse, though you knew full well that, despite elven claims, horses did not possess the gift of speech.
Approaching the gentle giant that was Asfaloth, you deftly ensured that he didn't gobble the carrots too quickly. "Patience," you murmured, adjusting the treats to prevent any mishaps. Abandoning the idea of petting the eager horse, you directed all your focus toward preventing a choking incident. You were acutely aware that Glorfindel would never forgive you if Asfaloth were to asphyxiate on your offerings.
"Where is he, Asfaloth?" Your fingers continued to caress the munching horse as you briefly entertained the idea that, just maybe, the elves were right, and Asfaloth understood you.
No fancy braiding or delicate floral decorations adorned his mane this time. "Why is he avoiding you? What have you done?" you pondered aloud, earning a pitiful whine from your equine companion. "I know, incredibly rude, I must say," you commented, deciding against attempting to braid Asfaloth's mane for the sake of both the world's sanity and your own. Instead, you settled on a comfortable pile of hay, hoping you weren't sitting on Asfaloth's dinner from the previous night.
"I brought him flowers, snacks, I even endured the drudgery of laundry, and I despise laundry. I got him books, a random flute, baked him a cake, and even learned a new card trick. But not a single reaction!" You confided in Asfaloth, desperately hoping for some form of understanding and equally enthusiastic compassion. To your relief, Asfaloth seemed to offer a sympathetic snort at just the right moment.
"You wouldn't believe it, but I even dared to venture into Erestor's little cave for intel. I'm at my wit's end, my friend," you sighed, realizing that the hay pile was indeed quite comfortable.
"I mean, I could try going to the nearest town for something, but I doubt I'd find anything better than these snobbish elves. Besides, those townsfolk charge outrageous prices," you continued, and Asfaloth leaned in, sniffing your satchel in hopes of more treats. Allowing the horse to continue his investigation, you didn't stop him. "I might dip into some of those savings. Perhaps Glorfindel would appreciate some rustic tools, eh?" Tired of Asfaloth's curiosity, you playfully tossed your empty satchel into the corner, which, for some inexplicable reason, Asfaloth chased like an adorable hound.
Tucked away in Asfaloth's cozy abode, you couldn't recall when your consciousness had faded into that blissful six-hour nap – the kind you cherished above all others. In the realm of bizarre dreams, you found yourself pinned to a pile of hay, unable to relinquish the unconventional comfort. Maybe Erestor had been onto something when he recommended Asfaloth.
However, your tranquil slumber was abruptly shattered as a metaphorical tsunami wreaked havoc on your sleeping form. Gasping, you struggled to make sense of the blurry world that seemed to whirl too rapidly for your groggy vision to follow.
"Y/n, oh Eru, you're awake!" A voice echoed through your sleep-addled and hazy thoughts.
Grasping the strong arms that held you close, you attempted to piece together the disaster that had overtaken you. "Wha-" your words faltered as you laid eyes on the tearful and sniffling elf standing before you. It was your first time witnessing such an emotional display, and you couldn't quite believe that elves were capable of producing snot.
Shaking off your mental fog, you slowly realized the peculiar predicament you were in. You were seated on a pile of hay, within the stable, beneath Asfaloth's unflinching gaze, and enfolded tightly in the embrace of the Balrog-slayer himself.
"I-I thought you left. You left like you said," Glorfindel stammered, your hands gently cupped your hiccupping beloved's face as his words tumbled out faster than you could process. "I couldn't find you… I had to… I rushed here, and then, you were… your eyes closed like that." Using your sleeves, you wiped away the relentless tears (and yes, even the snot) that streamed down his face as you sought a way to soothe Glorfindel's overwhelming emotions.
You couldn't help but internally curse yourself for your rambling that had led to this emotional upheaval. Days ago, beneath the relentless blanket of snow and impenetrable clouds, your thoughts had wandered without restraint.
"It happens, Glorfindel," you offered in an attempt to console him, "weariness of the world is unavoidable, even more so for Men. A slight change in weather can trigger it. After all, we are bound to some place beyond this." Your words seemed to offer little solace, evident from your beloved's reddening face.
"It is only natural to ponder death or the end. We Men are born with this burden, so it's not unnatural for such thoughts to sneak in. We call it 'existentialism.' But those ramblings mean nothing right now. I would not leave you, vanish into thin air, or transform into an insect just because the snow wouldn't relent." Your words carried a hint of playfulness, but there was undeniable truth in them. You would depart one day, for a fate separate from his. Before that day came, you both would endure the passage of time, a force that dared not mar the Balrog-slayer.
You harbored thoughts about evading him before he witnessed such a sight, but you knew you had some time left. A few years before you would spend eons waiting for another reunion.
But you chose not to speak of those deeper truths.
"But," you interjected, and Glorfindel perked up at the unexpected word. "I would tell everyone about this if you don't stop being an absolute grump." Just like that, the tension surrounding you both dissipated. "Imagine, 'Balrog Slayer, The Balrog Slayer,' in the stables – hmph!" Your words were cut off as Glorfindel playfully covered your face with his hand.
Even with reddened eyes and a rosy nose, your beloved looked every bit his old self. All traces of your angst and his sorrow dissipated into the slightly stinky breath of Asfaloth.
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