batsyforyou

[batsyforyou]

You gaze at the small scars and calluses on your hands, remnants of battles you've witnessed, and marks from wielding your blade. You trace each one with your fingers, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over you. 

"You seem lost in thought," Maedhros began.

"Just reflecting on all the battles I've seen. Though I wish they had never happened, they remind me of how far I've come and everything I've survived," you explained.

"You have a positive view of your scars. I wish I could share the same view on my own,” he said. 

You glanced at him. "Why’s that?" you asked.

"Some of my scars did not come from battles but from mistakes by my hand. They remind me of those mistakes and what I could have done to prevent them,” he said, gazing at the scars on his hand. 

"I disagree," you said, extending your hand. 

"May I?" you asked. 

Maedhros looked at you curiously but then placed his larger hand in yours. You begin to inspect his hand, feeling the calluses and cuts that are almost akin to yours. Maedhros watched you intently, and you could feel his hand nearly shying away as if your fingers were made of feathers. 

"This hand has seen its share of battles. Scars might seem like disfigurements, but it's common knowledge that you never leave a battle unscathed. Not even the greatest swordsman walks away without a cut or two. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, really," you explained.

"You survived a terrible ordeal, yet instead of giving up, you stood your ground and proved to Morgoth that he did not succeed in breaking you. That’s the mark of a strong warrior," you added.

Maedhros released a small huff. "You give me too much credit. I am scarred and do not possess the same beauty as the rest of my kin," he replied.

"Your scars will be scars if you let them. Regardless of how you got them, they haven’t stopped you from being gentle with me or the children. I believe that is a true sign of strength because many would rather succumb to their suffering than find the strength to be gentle with others. You even learned to fight with your less dominant hand, which makes you even more remarkable," you commented.

You then interlaced your fingers with his, holding his hand gently. "Don’t think any less of yourself. I see your worth not in your appearance, but in your heart and your strength to be who you decide to be, not what others expect of you," you said, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hand before holding it against your cheek, feeling its warmth while gazing into his eyes with a small grin. "And if I may be bold, in the eyes of another warrior, your scars don’t make you any less desirable," you said, your eyes glinting with small mischievousness and sincerity. 

His hand stilling in yours as he processed your words. His scars, often a source of silent torment, felt lighter beneath your touch. His thumb ghosted over your knuckles before he let out a quiet chuckle. “You have a dangerous way with words,” he murmured. “And an even more dangerous way of making me believe them.”

[batsyforyou]

(Since I've seen a lot of things about the Noldor being sharp about their language. I get a feeling they would find it attractive if their human s/o spoke fluently their language. Then I was reminded of Maglor having a voice kink in one of your posts, and then boom. )

*Maglor having teased you the whole day and you were just about to have enough*

You: *chuckles* Oh darling, you should know better than to play with someone who knows all your weaknesses and what to do exactly to make you squirm.

*Later in the day, when Maglor was seated on a couch, oblivious to your intentions as you walked behind him and wrapped your arms around his shoulder in an affectionate gesture*

You: Hey, Maka. What are you doing?

Maglor: Just reading a good book to get my mind off.

You: Interesting. What's it about?

Maglor: It's about…

You: *Gently trace your fingers at the edge of his ear with a feather-like touch*

Maglor: *shivers* …this one character with this kind of plot.

You: That's very interesting. Also, I have something to say *you hold him close as you lean close to his ear*

You: *With your breath touching his ear, you spoke in fluent Quenya* [Since you had so much fun teasing me the whole day with your silver tongue. How about we put that mouth of yours into better use… in my bed.] *you rolled his mother tongue through your lips with a grin, knowing his weakness for your voice*

His fingers slackened against the pages of his book as your words coiled around him like a spell. A sharp inhale betrayed him, his grip tightening slightly before he turned his head just enough for you to see the fire sparking in his eyes. For a moment, he said nothing, letting the weight of your words settle like molten gold in his chest. Then, in a rough voice, he murmured, “You play a dangerous game, melmë.”

His book was forgotten.

[batsyforyou]

I gently tuck a strand of hair behind Fëanor's ear, leaving soft kisses along his skin.

"Take a break, please... you'll work yourself to the bone..."

I tilt his chin up, leaving a feather light kiss against his lips.

"I prefer the firelight of my life well rested, and happy."

There was a hitch in his breath, his quill stilling mid-stroke. His sharp gaze flickered to yours before his lips curled—half smirk, half something softer. “You speak as if I am so easily tamed.” Yet, he did not pull away. Instead, he leaned in, stealing another kiss—brief, searing, like a brand. “Just a moment longer.”

[batsyforyou]

[Little y/n going to her mother's room to see her newborn little brother, tyelpe, with feanor. As feanor hold tyelpe and show him to her, Little y/n began to sulking and cry while hug him.]

Feanor : panic and confused why his granddaughter is suddenly crying

Little y/n : *sob* I don't want him grandpa... *sob sob* his skin is wrinkle and *sob* he is ugly...

“Ugly?” he echoed amusingly and in disbelief. He tilted Tyelpe slightly, inspecting him as if seeing him for the first time. “Well, he is rather...squishy-looking.”

Tyelpe let out a tiny squeak in response.

“You’ll regret saying that when he’s taller than you,” he muttered, patting your head while still trying to process the situation.

[batsyforyou]

Maedhros, extremely tired:- What are you doing?

Ghost!Y/N, messing up his papers:- ...Tyelko dared me-

He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he surveyed the chaos of scattered papers. His voice was flat, but the twitch in his brow betrayed his exhaustion. “Tell me, did you accept the dare before or after considering the consequences?”

[batsyforyou]

🥹

It’s so cuddly!

Until I Found You

Ecthelion x reader

Request: Ecthelion comfort fic where they discuss all that they went through prior to marrying one another. Reader has a sad family background and had to run away from home at 13 due to abuse (not necessary to get into details if you don’t want to), and yet still made it in life. A lot of mutual reassurance, empathy, and wisdom going forward. Pref cuddling in bed or something but location is up to you <3

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wrote this pretty vague, not going into details or mentioning much about the suffering the reader faced and instead, focused on how Thel handled a resurfacing moment with reader.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, faint reminiscing on reader’s abusive past, mutual comfort and reassurance, some humour

Words: 2.2k

Synopsis: After attending a play which resurfaced old memories of your past, Ecthelion, concerned, sought to provide you with the necessary comfort.

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“You look awfully lost in thoughts.” Came the melodic voice of your beloved husband, standing in the doorway as he removed his gloves, followed by his outer robes. The glimmer of the fire caught in the silver of his attire, flickering fragmented reflections of kaleidoscopic images on the wall.

Swivelling your head around to face him, he was already marching into the room, undressing as he walked—a habit of his—into the walk-in closet. You hadn’t spoken or even returned the faint whisper of a hum his way, eyes fixated on his figure as he whirled around the room like a miniature storm. From the vanity to the closet, then back to the vanity—he was quiet the disarray tonight, far less composed than any other night. Nevertheless, your eyes followed his movements, a ghost smile playing on your lips as he remained focused on removing the stubborn trousers that became a size too small for him, yet he insisted that he would fit perfectly into them. Now, he paid the price, especially after feasting and drinking.

“Are you alright?” he questioned, snapping you out of your trance.

With jerky movements, you inclined your head towards him with a puzzled expression marring your face. “Whatever do you mean?”

He sighed, shuffling out of the last piece of clothing that made him feel compact and walked over to the edge of the bed. Hovering at the edge, his hand reached out, knuckles curling and brushing over your cheek. You leaned into his touch and shutting your eyes at the warmth his hands always provided, you hummed in contentment before opening your eyes to gaze upwards. “How was the dinner?”

He gave a knowing smile and moved to sit at the edge, his hand shifting to hold yours. “It was exactly as anticipated. Egalmoth was the first to become drunk and started stripping, Laurë challenged me to a competition and embarrassingly lost—ended up crying, and Rog was late due to working on some one-of-a-kind piece.”

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun,” you jested, squeezing his hand while your thumb idly traced patterns at the back. “I should accompany you next time and see all the antics myself.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid that might traumatise you for the rest of your life. Don’t want that,” he chuckled lightly and looked down at where your hands were entwined, his heart warming at the sight.

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes and threw him an exasperated look. “I doubt that. I’ve faced worse things and still came out on top. If anything, I can endure all the antics that your odd group of friends conjures by the day.”

There was a short pause after your statement, your words nearly falling flat before a sudden, loud laugh escaped him. His head tossed backwards as it grew heartily, a deep rumble from within. “Oh my love, you are full of surprises. But indeed, I’m sure you can put up with them,” he acknowledged, lifting your hand to his lips and imparting a long, sweet kiss to your knuckles, gazing into your eyes lovingly. “But how was your day spent away from me?”

You hummed at the question and his actions, feeling your stomach fluttering and performing cartwheels by the dozens. You fought to control your expression, not wanting to end up like a blushing fool who caves in at the mere contact of their husband kissing their hand—as if you hadn’t had numerous occasions before. Darting your eyes away from him and focusing on the bed, your other hand reached out to idly pluck at the sheets. “It was…well spent,” you began with some hesitation before taking a deep breath and continuing, “went to see a play today—the one I told you about, ‘No Place Like Home?’”

He gave a curt hum and waited for you to continue, always enjoying when you spoke about your day instead of his—the best part about his day. “It was much different from the others we attended. This one…” you paused, trying to find the right words to describe what you felt as you observed the play from start to finish. “This one felt too close to home. I wasn’t expecting it to be so similar to what I experienced…”

Your voice was left to hang in the air, there were no words spoken between you or Ecthelion. Only the faint sound of the firewood crackling in the hearth and your breathing.

The topic of your past was a touchy one, more so for Ecthelion rather than you, having overcome the obstacles and wanting to live your life to the fullest. You made the option to overcome the burdens, facing your memories all for the sake of wanting to never feel weighted by them as you lived in the future. Whereas Ecthelion, well, it was simply a touchy subject that left him torn, even when he had no part to play in your early years. Carrying your burdens as if they were his own. He always seemed to be the one who was more affected by your past than you were.

Realising that he wasn’t planning on responding, you continued in a more upbeat tone to disperse the growing heaviness in the room. “I still enjoyed the play, nonetheless. The songs were well-written and sung—credits to the writers and singers—”

“And the story? Was it also…” His words were left in suspension, waiting for you to pick them up.

“Interesting? Enjoyable?” you inquired, giving his hand a gentle, yet firm squeeze of reassurance. “Well, the story was about a child unable to bear the pressure of high expectations placed upon them, punished brutally in return, and then ran away, finding peace in the comforts of a stranger who offered them a new start. It ended with the child, now an adult, having the happy ending they deserved.”

“And that reminded you of yourself,” he said softly, a statement rather than a question.

You nodded against him. “I hadn’t thought about those days in a long time. But seeing it unfold on the stage tonight, watching it happen to someone else...it brought everything back.”

Ecthelion was quiet for a moment, his grip tightening on your hand. And when he spoke, it was thoughtful. “It is one thing to look back on our own pasts, but another to see them reflected in another’s story. It makes us remember not just the events, but the way we felt—the fear, the pain, the uncertainty.” He exhaled softly. “Did it bring you sorrow?”

You considered that. “Not sorrow. Not exactly. Just...a strange sort of reflection.” You shifted and adjusted the sheet over your lower half. “I thought about how much has changed since then. How I never imagined, back then, that I would one day have this—a home, a life of my own...you.”

“You built this life for yourself,” he murmured with reassurance. “Through hardship and pain, through struggle and determination. You carved your own path, and that strength is something to be proud of.”

“I did come a long way,” you whispered with a small smile. “All thanks to you.”

“And in this play, did they find someone to love them and relieve them of their burdens?” he quietly mumbled, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hmm—” you tapped your chin with your finger, pretending to appear deep in thought, “—well, their beloved appeared to be quite the crybaby, if I must say. Also, very cute, more cute than handsome—”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” he grumbled, disgruntled at your teasing as you reminisced on how teary he was in the earliest when you both met. You would never let him live it down, constantly reminding him at every opportunity you got. “I was not a crybaby.”

“I did not say that you were. I was speaking about the main love interest.”

“You were implying.”

“Your words, not mine.”

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips despite his annoyance. You did have a way of turning the most melancholic conversations into something lighter and enjoyable. That was your charm, your secret weapon that he fell for when he first met you—dispelling all the negativity even when you had yours sitting on your back. To still see light in dark places after everything, it took a lot of courage and hope to get where you are.

Glancing at you once more, his face became serious, lines of concern etched into his forehead, making him appear aged. “Did it trouble you?”

With a dramatic exhale, though you understood his distress, you reached your other hand out to place over his, sandwiching his hand between yours. “Thel. My sweet as honey, Thel,” you cooed and smiled at the way he uncontrollably blushed, “it does not bother me anymore. I have made up my mind to live in the present—I want to live the life I’ve always dreamed of, and I cannot do so if my past is a constant burden at every turn. I have learned to make peace because I have a future to look forward to. A future with you, the one who gave me a chance.”

“The one who fell in love with the apothecary because he was stumbling over his words, asking for herbs for a headache,” he laughed, and you followed suit, joining with your joyous and infectious sounds.

“Indeed,” you confirmed. “The one who, when asked about his headache, began asking me about my day, my name, who I was, as though he was about to hire me for another trade.”

He met your gaze, his expression turning serious. “Because I saw something in you that I could not ignore. And the more I learned, the more I knew I wanted to be part of your life.”

Your heart swelled at his words. "And now you are."

He smiled, relieved. “Now I am. However, I wasn’t a crybaby like the main love interest.”

Without missing a beat, you countered. “I beg to differ. Remember when I told you about—” Your words were cut off by a hand clamping over your mouth to silence the rest of that embarrassing story that would forever haunt him. No one needed to know the horror he would take with him to the grave.

Eyes crinkling at the corners, you gave a muffled, amused laugh as you watched him grow redder by the second at the mentioned memory. You were not one to let him forget such a precious memory. If you could frame it in a picture and hang it on the wall, you would.

“Sorry, you know I can’t help it,” you giggled and reached out to remove his hand from over your mouth. “You were so precious.”

“Hmm, of course, I was,” he muttered half-heartedly, not forgetting to roll his eyes. Redirecting the conversation back to the original topic, he spoke up. “But…I just want to ensure that you’re alright and the play didn’t resurface anything. You always say that you’re alright and then something suddenly happens, and you relapse for a bit. I just want to make sure that you’re not saying this for my cause.”

The air fell silent. You inhaled sharply, looking down at your hands sandwiching his, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip. Then, you glanced up at him, meeting his awaiting eyes. The intensity behind his steel-grey eyes made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip. It wasn’t the gaze that left you feeling anxious or guilty, it was one that was warm and inviting—holding no malice or disappointment—just pure safety.

“I can never convince you enough, can I?” You gave an airy, laugh, then took a deep breath and leaned forward, bridging the gap between you until there was nought but an inch of space between your faces. His eyes softened at the closeness. “You’re so good to me. Giving me a chance to experience the love of another person and letting me live my life to the fullest,” you whispered genuinely. “I appreciate that, my love.”

A beat passed, and then he spoke up with a smile. “That answers my concern, then?”

“Thoroughly. Though, I have nothing to hide from you. You are the one soul I will bear myself to without hesitation,” you admitted without hesitation.

“You should have nothing to fear from your past,” Ecthelion murmured after a while. “It shaped you, yes, but it does not define you. You have built something beautiful, something no cruelty could ever take from you.”

Then gingerly, he leaned in to press his lips against your cheek. The kiss was short, simple and sweet. Nothing different from the man who sat before you, cradling your face with his other hand as though you were glass. Pulling away first, Ecthelion tilted his head to meet your forehead and planted a longer kiss on your warm skin, humming against you in contentment. “Why don’t I finish freshening up and then return to you more decently, and we can assess the rest of your comfort?”

“Only if you promise to cuddle me,” you replied.

“I would be a madman to deny,” he laughed, and forced himself away from your warmth, rising to his feet and marching towards the closet to disrobe the remaining clothes he wore.

You, on the other hand, sat there, staring at his retreating figure, feeling all the more content now that you got your thoughts off your chest. You truly could not have been any more grateful for meeting someone like him all those years ago. You wished it could have been under better circumstances; however, you didn’t regret meeting and falling in love with him.

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[batsyforyou]

saw the simpsons meme and i just KNOW that a certain elf would be the type to joke like it

legolas or glorfindel, turning to their human s/o with drooped ears, holding up a paper: “are you 🍃ing me?”

[name], said human s/o, used to their dramatic ways: no, i’m not leaving you. we’re staying married until we die or set sail to valinor

legolas or glorfindel, quickly scribbling on the back of the paper before showing it to [name] with wiggling ears: “what a re🍃”

[batsyforyou]

This is me just spurgling shower thoughts, because I don't have tolkien friends to rant to. This will be a part 2 lol. One wholesome and one sad.

I feel like elves would adore stretch marks,dimples, freckles, hip dips, love handles, chub. They'd just absolutely adore it. Hell they might get cute aggression from it, because bestie same! Ya just wanna knaw on the little silly critters. And ahshxhsuxhs. Point is, as cheesy as it is. The imperfections would be perfection to them. They're use to seeing statue like beings that look like they're carved from marble, boring. Give me clumsy, squishy, dorky, tired human! With crooked teeth, scarred skin, tiger stripes and something squishy for me to bite!

Oh absolutely! The elves would be obsessed with that kind of stuff. They’re surrounded by ethereal, impossibly perfect beings all the time—of course, they’d be enchanted by something real, something human. Stretch marks?? Freckles?? Softness?? That’s art to them. They’d be like, “finally, some texture”. 100% cute aggression >.< You’d have elves just vibrating because they want to squish your cheeks or trace your scars like they’re reading a map to some treasure 🥺

[batsyforyou]

Now for the sad bit.

I love how tragic human, elf relationships are.

The human mind can forget, cue a tragic scenario with a human with dementia in their old age. The two sitting together and the human sadly saying "I must've been incredible for you to love me." and the elf just looking at them grief striken, softly murmuring "you are."

Ahhhhh.

Also death. I don't think people realize just how tragic it would be for an elf. They get another life, they get a land where they know they'll see their loved ones. But the one thing the elves don't know is, where humans go after death. That gut wrenching feeling looking at someone and coming to the terms. "I'll never see you again." there's no greeting in the afterlife, no sign of resurrection. This one person that you love with half, if not your entire soul, your entire being, one you know can be your only love for eternity, will be ripped from you to never be seen again and you're just left with only a memory of them. Which hurts more, because you can remember every detail. Their laugh, their voice, their habits... But you can never experience them again, never hold them. They're just gone. And that's why I adore it. That's why I get why, it's so taboo for an elf to love a human.

Yeah, the tragedy of it is so deep. Your elf watching you, a human fade, knowing that the love you shared will just...slip away, is devastating. You forgetting, and your elf just holding on, quietly carrying that grief—“you are incredible” hits differently when there's no chance of fixing it. And that whole ‘where do they go’ thing? Imagine loving someone so deeply, knowing you’ll never see them again in a way that feels final, knowing that you’ll never reunite with them. Their memories become a bittersweet torture. It’s not taboo—it’s tragic, it’s soul-crushing. That’s why elves would guard their hearts 😭

[batsyforyou]

You won't believe bc last time I drew him in 2020 BUT I'm still here, you can't stop loving Silm, so.. here some Feanor for you and happy St. Valentine day everyone! Also you can find old silmart collection in my blog using# I can draw something for you too ( check pinned post in my blog)

[batsyforyou]

An old idea started popping back in. What if the elves met their s/o, who is the valar of the underworld? Their s/o technically lives in a completely different realm beneath Arda, where demons and evil spirits reside. There are all kinds of stories about their s/o and how monstrous they are. But when the elves somehow end up falling into a hole that leads to the underworld and meets their s/o. They first appear terrifying, but then their s/o takes a less threatening form and the elves find out their s/o is like the sweetest person in the whole world. Their servants are also like really polite and welcoming, and then turns out that their s/o and their subjects are technically misunderstood and wrongfully feared. Their job is just guarding the evil souls and spirits that enter their realm, keeping them imprisoned. It kinda becomes like a Hades and Persephone situation when they start seeing each other. Their s/o is pretty loving but avoids serving them any food in the underworld because if they ate anything from the underworld then they would become bound to it. Then the valars and the elves' families get involved and order them not to see each other because of their s/o's bad rep. Which of the elves might be stubborn enough to go against those orders and maybe take a bite out of the forbidden fruit so they could be with their s/o in the underworld? And which of the elves would bitterly follow those orders?

A/N: Once again, you strike hard and put the cherry atop the cake with these ideas 🤌. I need to visit your brain for some ideas. Do you take reservations? What days? 😂

Defies all and stays in the Underworld. Loyal, stubborn, and deeply in love, they reject the warnings of others, willingly binding themselves to their s/o by eating the forbidden fruit.

— Fëanor, Celegorm, Amrod, Fingon, Aegnor, Glorfindel, Maeglin, Beleg

Secretly defies orders but doesn't eat the fruit. Too cautious to risk being trapped, they’ll keep seeing their s/o in secret, finding ways to visit without breaking the ultimate rule…

— Maglor, Caranthir, Curufin, Amras, Celebrimbor, Angrod, Gwindor, Elrohir

Torn between love and duty, they desperately want to be with their s/o, but the weight of their responsibilities makes them hesitate…

— Fingolfin, Ecthelion, Rog, Egalmoth, Gil-Galad, Elrond, Elladan, Erestor

Bitterly follow the orders but cannot bring themselves to defy the Valar or their families…

— Turgon, Finarfin, Finrod, Galdor, Thingol

[batsyforyou]

Kinda targeted toward elves with siblings. What would be the elves's reaction toward their s/o who doesn't get along with one of their siblings? Like the two constantly jabs at each other, throwing insults and making each other mad. But, then the two end up in a dangerous situation and the elves' s/o saves their sibling despite their lack of liking for each other. Their s/o's response is like "Yeah, I don't like your brother/sister. Personally, I would love to see them suffer from the consequences of their actions. However, I know what it's like to lose a sibling, and I do not want you to experience that " How would the elves respond?

A/N: I know a few of these characters don’t have siblings, but let’s just go with the idea of them having since OC siblings exist for them.

Grateful but doesn’t outwardly display strong emotion, though they feel it deeply…

— Maedhros, Maglor, Caranthir, Turgon, Rog

Doesn’t hesitate to thank their s/o, showing clear appreciation and even admiration.…

— Fingolfin, Fingon, Finarfin, Finrod, Galdor, Egalmoth, Ecthelion, Glorfindel, Beleg, Gil-Galad, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir

Feels conflicted due to past tensions but values the gesture…

— Amrod, Amras, Celebrimbor, Argon, Aegnor, Angrod, Gwindor

Struggles to process the weight of the moment, deeply affected by their s/o’s words…

— Fëanor, Celegorm, Curufin, Thingol, Maeglin

[batsyforyou]

Hi!

I love this blog with all my heart :) and I read it religiously :))

Recently, a friend of mine started dating. When she first met her bf, she complimented him and they started chatting. Come to find out, the compliment she said made him really so happy and interested and he even credits it as what made him fall in love with her. I thought it was such a cute story!

Then yesterday, I wondered which elves do you think would fall in love after being given a compliment? For a specific group, the Feanorians, although I did wonder about all of them but I want to be respectful of your time and effort ;)

If this is a request you already answered or it's not a good prompt, feel free to ignore. I just value your input 100%

A/N: I decided to stick with the Feanorians since they were originally asked for. It’s not any trouble at all. It was fun to answer and see who was more whipped and hopeless than the other lol ☺️

Falls instantly (hopeless romantic energy lol)…

— Maglor, Amrod, Amras, Celebrimbor

Blushes and gets flustered but tries to hide it…

— Maedhros, Caranthir

Act like they’re not affected when they are (badly)…

— Celegorm, Curufin

Acts unfazed but secretly thinks about it for days…

— Fëanor

[batsyforyou]

“At least bards have taste.” 😭🤣

Curufin With A Smitten Reader Would Include…

A/N: Wanted to do a little surprise today and treat all the Curufin lovers to a nice piece about him. Also based on a conversation I had over here ➽ ASK. And, Valentine’s Day was just two days ago, so it made sense for him to have so much attention lol

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• Curufin was used to admiration—whether it was for his craft, his skill in battle, or simply being the son of Fëanor, there was never a shortage of people who either respected or feared him. But you? You were something else entirely. You didn’t just admire him—you practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and he was absolutely thriving off it.

• It started off amusing to him. He caught you watching him a little too intently while he worked on some intricate piece of metalwork, and when he looked up, instead of feigning indifference like a normal person, you just sighed dreamily and muttered, “Your hands are wasted on mere steel.” He had to pause his work entirely, torn between laughter and sheer delight at the audacity of it.

• “Oh? And what, pray tell, should they be doing instead?” He leaned forward slightly, intrigued, half expecting you to get embarrassed. You didn’t. You simply said, “Holding me.” The arrogance. The sheer confidence. He decided right then and there that he was keeping you.

• If he ever needed an ego boost (not that he would ever admit to such a thing), he would simply go to you. It was guaranteed that whatever he was doing, you would find it spectacular. Sharpening a blade? “You make it look so elegant.” Giving orders? “Your voice could command the stars.” Even just existing? “I swear the air is sweeter when you’re near.” It didn’t matter if he was being ruthless or sarcastic—your response was always adoration, and he drank it in like fine wine.

• He loved seeing how effortlessly you prioritised him in everything. If he was speaking, you were listening, hanging on every word like it was a revelation from Eru himself. If he had an idea, you supported it without question, often embellishing it with some flowery praise about his brilliance. And if anyone dared speak against him in your presence? Oh, you would defend him with the fervour of a zealot.

• “You’re ridiculous,” he told you once, watching as you argued on his behalf with a stubborn Noldo who dared question his methods. You turned to him, all righteous fury, and said, “No, they are ridiculous for doubting you.” He stared at you for a moment, then simply pulled you close and kissed you, because what else could he do?

• He found it endlessly entertaining how you always managed to spin his worst traits into something admirable. He was ruthless? No, he was determined. He was sharp-tongued? No, he was eloquent. He was arrogant? No, he simply knew his worth. You once told him, with complete sincerity, “You’re not arrogant—you’re just burdened with accuracy.” He defined had to sit down after that one.

• You became something of a menace to his brothers as well. Celegorm was used to people flattering Curufin, but he wasn’t used to it being this relentless. One time, after a particularly long string of your praises, Celegorm just groaned and said, “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a lovesick bard.” Without missing a beat, you replied, “At least bards have taste.”

• You were, to put it simply, a devoted enabler. If Curufin had an idea, no matter how outrageous, you supported it wholeheartedly. If he wanted to make an impossibly intricate piece of jewellery, you encouraged him. If he suggested an elaborate strategy, you were already making plans. Even when he was scheming, you didn’t bat an eye.

• “Are you truly alright with this?” he asked once, watching you as he detailed some cunning plan. Most people would have hesitated, but you just smiled and said, “I trust you.” There was something almost terrifying about your blind faith in him, but he wasn’t about to complain.

• You had a habit of watching him like he was the most fascinating thing in Arda. Whether he was crafting, strategising, or just standing there, you always looked at him as if he personally hung the stars in the sky. It was a gaze he never quite got used to, but he never wanted it to stop.

• “What are you staring at?” he asked once, half-amused, half-smug, as he caught you watching him work. You just sighed and said, “Perfection.” He nearly ruined the piece he was working on.

• It didn’t matter how long you were together—your admiration for him never wavered. Even when he was at his worst, when others turned away in fear or doubt, you remained steadfast. If anything, you admired him even more when he was sharp and unyielding.

• “You should be careful,” someone warned you once. “Curufin is not an easy man.” You just smiled and said, “Then it’s a good thing I don’t want easy.” When Curufin heard about it later, he just shook his head and muttered, “You are utterly impossible.” But the way he kissed you after said otherwise.

• Your devotion was so unwavering that even Fëanor, for all his pride, had to take note. He once watched as you waxed poetry about Curufin’s skill and said dryly, “Are you certain you are not one of mine?” Curufin, to his credit, simply smirked and pulled you closer. “Too late, father,” he said. “They’re mine.”

• Even in battle, you were a force of nature, not because you were the strongest, but because you fought like someone with something to prove. If Curufin was on the battlefield, you were by his side, defending him with a passion that even his own kin couldn’t match. It was both impressive and slightly alarming.

• “You fight like a mad thing,” he told you once, after you had quite literally thrown yourself into danger for him. You just grinned and said, “Well, if I die, I’ll haunt you, so you’re stuck with me either way.” He didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

• You had a habit of collecting things he made, as if they were holy relics. If he so much as discarded a half-finished design, you were there, scooping it up like it was a lost Silmaril. “You do realise that’s flawed, don’t you?” he said once, watching you examine a ring he had deemed unworthy. You just smiled and said, “Everything you touch is gold to me.” He scoffed, but he didn’t take it away from you.

• Your presence became something he relied on more than he cared to admit. For all his confidence, for all his cunning, there was something grounding about having you there, endlessly loyal, endlessly devoted. Others might have called you a fool for it, but he knew better. He knew that kind of loyalty was rare, and he would never take it for granted.

• “You’re dangerous,” he murmured one night, watching as you curled up beside him, looking at him as if he was your entire world. You smiled and said, “Only for you.” And for once, he had no clever reply—only the quiet, undeniable realisation that he had never been more adored in his life.

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[batsyforyou]

Waking up next to them - Maedhros and Caranthir

Author's note: She's back with a cutesy set of headcanons :)

-

Maedhros

This is the most peaceful you will ever see him

His nights are short and sleepless, filled with terrors and discomfort

But in the earliest of morning hours, just before the sun rises high enough to wake him, that is when his forehead is free of his nightly frown

Copper tresses are spilling over his pillow onto yours, tickling your nose with their softness

And you awaken to see him sound asleep in a sea of orange

The faint sunlight dances over his freckles and you have to stop yourself from tracing them with your index finger

He needs the rest, you think, his terrors have been particularly heavy lately

So you decide to snuggle up to him and enjoy the feeling of his for once relaxed body against yours; no tense muscles, no shivering, no groans or jolting awake

His breaths are even and full and when the first bird starts his morning song, you look up to see him come to his senses

His eyes are like the fog at sea, clearing up ever so slightly as time passes

And the tiniest of smiles begins to form at the corners of his mouth, which you mirror almost instantly

“Good morning, Mai.”

“Morning..”

Caranthir

He’s most likely awake already

Cara is definitely a morning person, don’t get me wrong, but that doesn’t mean he wants anyone to utter a single word or even breathe in his direction

He tends to have rather scheduled mornings

You seldom catch him in a deep slumber, but he has pillow lines on his puffy face every morning, reassuring you of his well deserved, successful rest

Your eyes are still closed when you feel him stroking your hair gently as not to wake you, before the bed dips, signaling his dreadfully awaited leave

He lets out a soft gasp when you grab onto his tunic as to pull him back into your arms, and gladly lets you spoon him like a backpack

You can feel him smile against your cheek when you bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his indescribably comforting scent, sighing into his skin

He laughs, quietly. His voice is hoarse and has a boyish ring to it when he tells you “Good morning, melmenya,” and proceeds to turn around again to catch you opening your sleepy eyes

His arms envelop you in a most affectionate embrace

This morning, you awaken rather quickly to tell him about a dream you had last night, to which he listens intently, musing along to your thoughts

“That’s rather strange, don’t you think?”

Unfortunately, this bliss is short lived, because as soon as he hears the slightest commotion outside your chambers, he’s back to responsible prince mode

But before he inevitably leaves to attend the meeting scheduled for this morning, he makes sure to plant at least a dozen kisses all over your face

“We have to part for now, but I will see you at breakfast, my love..”

[batsyforyou]

Hey!! I recently found ur acc and I love ur writings!! I wanted to request a spider noir x reader where a bunch of creepy drunk guys tries to cat call y/n and spider noir swoops in and beats the shit out of them lol. If you can’t write anything like this that’s totally fine! Make sure to take breaks :)

Hii, tysm for the request!! Ik I lowk took a while to respond sooo…

But thanks for this idea I liked it a lot!!

Idk if you wanted me to make them in a relationship so ima do it like Tobey’s Spider-where they only know each other because he saves her a lot.

Friday, 8pm?

Info: I literally had to search up if the subways were a thing in 1933, ALSO THIS ISNT PROOF READ OR HAS GONE THROUGH GRAMMARLY SO IGNORE TYPOS OR DOUBLE WORDS

Warnings: weird creepy guys, cat calling

Summary: (the request)— as you walked out of work a bunch of creepy guys tried following you home, luckily your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man saved the day

You we’re walking out of work, it was a normal day, if you could call any day normal it’d be today, it was fresh as the sun began to set, and the sky got darker. Your shift had ended earlier than usual, so you walked out and began walking to the subway, so you could go home, and eat something as quick as possible.

You walked down the streets of the city, your bag in one hand, your waist apron in the other as you began stuffing it inside your bag along with your other possessions.

Of course this nice evening had to have turned wrong in some way, it would’ve been much more terrible if New York was invaded by a monster, but for you; New York decided to gift you with men who invaded your space.

A whistle was heard two feet away from you, before a man walked up next to you and began talking to you, saying several things; “what’s a pretty girl like you doing out right now?” The man asked, you tried walking faster but only followed “could you leave me alone?” You asked him, being nice about this never worked for you. But it was worth a try, right?

He continued following you asking more things; he was being a little too personal, and now you had to walk through several streets that led to places you didn’t even know, the one thing you didn’t want him knowing was your address so you just walked through the city, and your stomach was grumbling from how hungry you were.

You lost him eventually after a while of walking, he had lost you in the subway, which you couldn’t be more grateful for. You got on and after getting off walking through the city some more, going to your favorite pizza place, you walked out the building and once again; you were found by another, very much older man.

He couldn’t have been thirty years old, he looked much, much older than that. “What’re y’doin out tonight honey?” The man obviously sounded drunk, he put his arm around you and you took that as your cue to push him away.

“Where y’goin hon?” He asked as he jogged over to you and placed and hand on your waist. You were about to push him away again and jog or run away, but before you could even turn your head, he gasped and pulled his hand away; almost pulling you with him as he fell to the ground.

You let out a quick gasp as the man fell and went completely unconscious before you felt yourself being pulled away, you couldn’t comprehend anything before you were standing faced to face; or mask.

In front of a familiar black goggled mask. “what the hell-” you said with a sign as you realized it was Spider-man. “You okay?” He asked, his hands were placed gently on your midriff, “mhm, yeah I’m good..” you nodded at him as he looked you up and down.

“You sure..?” He asked as he continued looking you up and down “yeah, I’m fine” you reassured him “you have a thing for needing my help, huh?” He said, you could almost see the smirk form in his mask.

You chuckled and nodded “yeah, maybe, but I’m fine thank you for saving the day” you smiled at him, his knees almost buckled as your lips curled up. “So, you don’t want me to swing you home?” He asked, a smirk behind the mask, you wished you could see his face so badly right now, you always wanted to see him.

“Well, no, I’m not denying a swing home” you grinned, “so is that a yes?” He asked and you quickly responded with a nod. He held you by the waist and soon enough he had you in the alleyway, next to your complex. You two walked to the front of the bricked three story building.

“Thank you, again” you smiled at him once more, “it’s no problem, I’m Spider-Man remember?” He said as he walked back through the alleyway, you wished you could invite him inside to have a coffee, or just a conversation. But then again, you didn’t know him, he probably wouldn’t accept the invite, and you had no courage to ask.

So you walked inside and headed up the stairs to your small but cozy apartment, you immediately headed to your room to set down your bag. Noticing a shadowy figure through your window to the fire escape.

You noticed his goggles again, “you we’re waiting for me?” You asked opening the window, “you thought I wouldn’t?” he chuckled, “are you sure your not just stalking me?” you giggled, “m’no” he shook his head gently as he let out another airy chuckle.

“I’d be worried if you were” you smiled, you put your hands on the ledge and leaned a little closer to him, “I wouldn’t do that, without your permission” he said, smiling dumbly under the mask, you could here the playfulness in his voice, but also how sincere and sweet he was.

“Take me to dinner first” you smiled, feeling heat rise up your cheeks, “I could, if you wanted too” he said sweetly, “I would say yes, so you should” you leaned a little closer, you almost thought he leaned closer as well.

“I’ll get a reservation than” you could see the wide grin imprinted in his mask, it made you smile more, you nodded hoping that was a good enough response, you hoped that he couldn’t see how flustered you were beginning to look.

“I really like you..” he whispered, the smile under his mask never faded, “I, like you too” you nodded “yeah, I really, really do” you told him, leaning in closer, he noticed it this time and pulled his mask down to his nose before he leaned in and kissed you.

To say this was perfect could’ve been an understatement, but that was the only word you’d use.

You leaned closer, as much as possible, gripping the ledge of window, one of his hand let go of the web he’d been hanging (upside down) on. He placed it in the back of your head, gently pulling you closer to him, as if you weren’t close enough.

You hadn’t even noticed how your hands had been holding the back of his head too, “I, uhm..” you gulped as the heat rushed to your cheeks. “So, dinner next Friday eight pm?” His grin was visible now.

You nodded smiling sheepishly, “good, I’ll make sure to forget the mask” his grin widened, “thats, good” you smiled at him. He nodded off and said his goodbye, you turned back and walked over to your dresser thinking about how

You just kissed Spider-Man.

You just kissed Spider-Man?

He watched you from the window, as you took off your work shirt, he wanted to knock on your window so badly. If only he had the courage.

—

Hope y’all like thisss🙈

[batsyforyou]

as a request, a kiss in the rain with spider-noir ;]

yes of course! i’ll keep it short and sweet 🩰

🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

noir pulled up his mask half way up in which exposed his chiseled jawline and his black stubble. you could see the way his nose crinkled a bit upon the small droplets of rain gently patting on the tip of his nose. with bodies pressed close together, the rain cascading down upon you, you locked eyes with peter , the intensity of the moment reflected in his dark gaze. without a word, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting in a tender, yet fervent kiss.

the raindrops mingled with the sweetness of your connection, a sublime symphony of touch, taste, and desire. the world around you faded into the background as time seemed to stand still, the only reality that mattered was the passion ignited by your kiss.

the rain soaked through your clothes, intensifying the sensation of your bodies pressed against each other. noir’s touch was as gentle as it was passionate, his hands cradling your face, as if cherishing every moment of this rain-soaked embrace. he slightly parted to look into his eyes and you see the way the outline of his lenses soften, “you taste divine, my love.”

“i love you peter.”

“i love you way more darling.”

then he crashed his lips onto yours once again. the taste of rainwater mingled with the warmth of his lips, a sensual concoction that intoxicated your senses. with each passing second, the kiss deepened, as if seeking to convey the ocean of emotions that swirled between you.

———

a/n: i’d love this so much ong

tags 🏷️: @sabcandoit @alliwriteistrash @kairiscorner