#Imladris imagine

[sakasakiii]

imladris lads :D it started off as a few doodles of gildor bc of a great prompt i received from an anon a few weeks ago, and then spiralled into something else entirely bc i havent really taken the time to explore much of anything imladris-related? i really like the lindir-is-maglor concept so heres my take on how it couldve happened haha

as always, credit to Cartoon Network for the sparkly pink BG

thanks so much for the ask!! here's my take on gildor :DD i really like the way anon asked the question and it was what inspired me to draw finrod in the mix too strangely enough?? the vibes are similar 🤭

[doodle-pops]

Dating Glorfindel Would Include...

ʚɞ He’s like a golden retriever, filled with boundless energy and wants to be all over you. He cannot spend five seconds without some form of physical contact, be it holding hands, kissing you, or bumping shoulders.

ʚɞ One of the simplest things he likes to do is to hold your hand during walks, showing everyone that you’re his. He’s absolutely proud to know that you chose him to be your significant other so, he does his best to show you that you chose well.

ʚɞ Your time courting him will never be dull. Every moment spent with him will be full of energy and laughter.

ʚɞ Whenever there’s a party, festival or ball, you are the first couple on the dance floor. The first time you dance at a ball, you are surprised to learn that he is an excellent dancer since you have never seen him dance when asked by others.

ʚɞ He’s an amazing singer but he’ll only sing for you. You are the only person worthy in his eyes to hear his voice.

ʚɞ He enjoys going for rides with you on his horse. Sometimes the both of you will sit together or on separate horses and race each other across the open fields. There are times when he’s in a goofy mood and he’ll sit in front of you on Asfaloth, ignoring the fact that you can’t see.

ʚɞ Wherever you may be working he will always find time during the day to visit you. If it’s to bring you a meal of food or just stop by to say hello, he will always make the time. Even when he’s not on patrol or doing any duties, he’s sparring. He takes this opportunity to spar shirtless in hopes that when you pass by, you’ll ogle at his physique.

ʚɞ Should you do pass by, he shows off a lot more flexing his muscles and fighting with more power and strength to defeat his opponent showing you how strong he is. One time he flexed his muscles too hard, and he caught a cramp. To say the least, it was embarrassing for him.

ʚɞ Know that every day you will be receiving a bouquet of flowers at your doorstep. There are times he’d be able to deliver it and other times when he’ll send a worker.

ʚɞ He knows that he’s not the best cook but he’s willing to try making most of your favourite meals and desserts. Sometimes he’d invite you over into the kitchen so that you could show him how to make your favourite meals. You also do the same by sending meals and desserts for him when he’s working very hard. He always gets over-emotional whenever you do so.

ʚɞ Speaking of him being emotional, Glorfindel is genuinely a compassionate individual and it’s truly an honour to experience firsthand his ability to extend his empathy to others in need of it. Even you are fortunate to be on the receiving end when times are tough on your end.

ʚɞ He’s a cuddle bug so once you’re in his arms there’s no escaping, you’re never leaving you just have to stay there and accept your fate. He has no shame in basking you kisses but he won’t go overboard since he is a Lord and looked upon.

ʚɞ Whenever you’re cuddling you tend to run your hands through his hair which knocks him out. He’s very flamboyant so, expect a lot of grand moments with him but not to worry he does take your reactions seriously; he knows what’s acceptable and what isn’t.

ʚɞ Depending on the age you met, you get the opportunity to hear his tales of the olden days when his fellow Lords and friends were alive. Around these moments are when he relies on a slice of comfort from you to reassure him that there’s still good in his life despite all that he’s lost.

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[queenstarlight2]

Lindir and a modern human who thought his name was Lindor like the chocolate for awhile until someone had to tell her she was saying his name wrong 😂

Let's put our listening ears on

word count: 1,035

The morning sun spilled golden light across Rivendell, painting the dew-kissed leaves in shimmering hues. Birds trilled from the treetops, and the cool, sweet air carried with it the fragrance of blossoming wildflowers. You found yourself wandering the grand halls of Elrond’s haven once more, marveling at the beauty that felt as surreal as a dream.

You were adjusting well, or so you liked to believe. Even if waking up in Middle-earth had initially been a shock, Rivendell’s serene beauty and the Elves’ gentle, albeit occasionally amused, company had helped you settle in. It didn’t hurt that Lindir, one of the more graceful and composed Elves, often accompanied you on your walks.

Today was no different. You found Lindir waiting by one of the many bridges that arched over Rivendell’s rivers, his silver hair catching the light, and his expression, as always, a careful mask of tranquility. You greeted him with a wave and an enthusiastic grin.

“Good morning, Lindor!” you called out cheerfully.

His serene expression twitched ever so slightly, but his smile remained. “Good morning to you as well,” he replied, his voice smooth as the river’s song.

The name—Lindor—had become something of a pet nickname. You knew it was a slight mispronunciation of his actual name, but somehow, it had stuck, and Lindir never corrected you. You didn’t think too deeply about it, assuming it was either not important enough to mention or perhaps he found it endearing. Besides, in a place so removed from your world, it was nice to have something familiar, even if it was just a name that reminded you of chocolates.

Together, you wandered down a path that led to a sun-dappled grove, your conversation meandering as effortlessly as the river beside you. Lindir asked questions about your world, his curiosity polite but genuine. You had spoken of cities and cars, of libraries full of books and kitchens full of foods the Elves had never imagined, but somehow, chocolate had yet to come up.

“You know,” you said, looking up at him, “it’s funny how you Elves don’t seem to get tired. If I didn’t have chocolate in my world, I don’t think I’d have survived college.”

Lindir’s brow furrowed slightly. “Chocolate?” he repeated, testing the word on his tongue. “What is that?”

You blinked. “Wait, really? You don’t have chocolate?”

Before Lindir could respond, another Elf, taller and with a more severe demeanor, approached. It was Erestor, one of Elrond’s advisors and librarian. He paused, eyeing you both with his typical scrutinizing expression, which always made you feel slightly like a wayward child.

“Ah, My lady, Master Lindir,” Erestor greeted, though his gaze lingered on you. “Forgive me, but I have overheard something quite peculiar these past weeks.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Oh? What’s that?”

Erestor’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you felt the weight of an Elven stare that seemed capable of seeing straight through you. “The name by which you address Master Lindir,” he said, his voice precise, “is incorrect. It is not ‘Lindor,’ but Lindir.”

Your cheeks flushed with sudden embarrassment. “Oh no,” you said, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you say anything, Lindir?”

Lindir, who looked both amused and faintly embarrassed, shook his head lightly. “I did not wish to embarrass you,” he admitted, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “Besides, you seemed to find some joy in calling me by that name. I did not think it harmful.”

Erestor, however, looked as though he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes. “And what, pray tell, is this Lindor you have been referring to?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, though you tried to stifle it. “Well, it’s a type of chocolate in my world. A really fancy, melt-in-your-mouth kind of chocolate. The best, really.”

Lindir and Erestor exchanged a look, one of deep Elven confusion, and it only made your laughter harder to contain.

“Chocolate,” Lindir mused, as if tasting the word again might give him insight. “You must explain this… delicacy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, excitement bubbling up at the prospect. “Chocolate is, like, this heavenly, creamy food made from cacao beans, and you can make it into all kinds of things—bars, drinks, desserts. And Lindor chocolates are these little round truffles with a silky filling that just melts when you eat it.”

The Elves stared at you, their expressions frozen somewhere between polite interest and utter incomprehension. Finally, Erestor shook his head, his long hair swaying with the movement. “Your world sounds increasingly bizarre, My Lady,” he declared.

You grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess it is. But seriously, I owe you an apology, Lindir. I’ll get your name right from now on.”

Lindir’s eyes softened, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. “No harm done,” he said gently. “If it is any consolation, the way you say it has a certain charm. But I am pleased to know the story behind this… Lindor chocolate.”

You couldn’t help but smile up at him. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

Erestor looked between the two of you, sighed as though resigning himself to the strangeness that came with having a human guest, and excused himself, muttering something about the peculiarity of mortals. You and Lindir watched him go, and once he was out of earshot, you both burst into laughter.

“He must think I’m hopeless,” you said, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye.

Lindir’s laughter faded into a fond smile. “I think he finds you… perplexing, but in a way that makes this world feel a bit more lively,” he said. “As do I.”

You felt warmth bloom in your chest, and for a moment, the beauty of Rivendell seemed brighter, more vibrant. “Thank you,” you said, feeling a bit shy. “I guess I’ll have to introduce chocolate to Middle-earth one day, won’t I?”

Lindir’s eyes lit up with a playful glint. “I look forward to it,” he replied, “if only to finally understand what could be worthy of my accidental namesake.”

And with that, you continued your walk together, the morning light gilding the leaves, and a new promise of sweet surprises hanging in the air between you.

[kat651]

Imagine: stealing Lindir’s cloak then snuggling up to him because you’re cold. 

You shivered as the spring rain fell outside the window. You scooted closer to the fire and rubbed your arms. You looked over. Lindir was in a chair with a book in his hands. His cloak was hanging on a hook in the corner of the room. You stood and grabbed it, wrapping yourself tightly. 

After sitting in front of the fire with the cloak you were still cold. You looked over at lindir and shrugged, walking over to him. 

Lindir looked up at you as you stood in front of him. “What is it?” He asked, eyeing his cloak with humor. 

You crawled into his lap and shivered. “I’m cold…”

Lindir set the book down and pulled you closer. “Come here…” he mumbled, kissing your forehead. “I’ll keep you warm.” 

You wrested your head on his shoulder. “Mmm…thank you…”

Lindir smiled. “Anything for you, love…”

[lovefairymina]

“My lady it is time to go to bed.”

*me the human who refused to go to bed until Glorfindel finished his paperwork and who had fallen asleep on the couch: responds with grumpy incoherent grumbling, still refusing to open my eyes, then makes a halfhearted grabby hands gesture*

Setting aside his papers as he approached the couch, he chucked at your antics. “Stubborn, aren’t you?” he teased, gently scooping you up into his arms. When your halfhearted grabby hands latched onto his tunic while you muttered something incoherent, he smiled. “You can keep grumbling all you like, but you're going to bed,” he said with a playful glint in his eye, carrying you off as you nestled further into his warmth.

[eunoiaastralwings]

I MADE IT

Can I request a fluff piece for my husband? Where Elrond and the reader have a lazy morning in bed cuddling? Or whatever comes to your brilliant mind 💞💞💞

Morning Bliss

featuring elrond x fem reader (elrond x maeve really)

fandom tolkien-the lord the rings

a/n just some fluff - it's very short I didn't know what else to write sorry :(

You smiled hazily as you were woken from your slumber with sweet kisses being peppered to your neck.

You giggled at the feel of your husband’s lips against your skin – waking you peaceful to the morning sun. You happily settled closer into Elrond’s arms – feeling safe and content.

It was a pure bliss to have him here in bed within the early morning to hold close to you – as he poured tender affection over you as if you were fragile and beautiful to him and you were – you were the most important person in his life.

He knew you felt the same – no words needed to be spoken between the two of you in the early morning sun – it was nice to simply hold each other lazily.

Thankfully Elrond didn’t need to be anywhere this morning – so happily lifted your arm and caressed his cheek, finally opening your eyes.

He was already smiling down at you – looking at you with utter adoration in his eyes.

“Morning, meleth nin. . .”

He whispered softly – his voice softly matching the atmosphere of the room.

“Morning, herven. . .” (husband).

You whispered back as you looked at with a soft smile.

Elrond pulled you closer – resting one hand on your mid-back and the other around your shoulder. He gently caressed your skin with his thumb.

Then – pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You look beautiful. . .I am forever the luckiest in whole of Arda you have in my arms as my wife.”

You giggled as he pressed another soft kiss to your nose.

“I am lucky too, Elrond – for I have you, my dear husband.”

You made snuggled closer to him – you pressed the softest of kisses to his lips.

He smiled into the kiss and kissed you back with tenderness – so soft and slow, savoring the sweet moment.

“You are not needed this morning?”

You asked – to make sure.

“I’m only needed her, my love – in your arms!”

“Good.”

You giggled and happily pulled your leg over hip and snuggled into his chest.

Elrond laughed softly and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“The day is off for me – Erestor and Lindir taking care of things more me!”

You rejoiced at those words.

“That’s wonderful!”

You cheered and decided to pull back and let him snuggle into you – caressing his hair.

“Then – I shall take care of you today, my love.”

Elrond smiled – you could feel it by the way his lips stretched against your skin.

“I would dearly love that, bessig. . .” (honey).

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tara's taglist: @aeonianarchives @mismaeve @fizzyxcustard @wandererindreams @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5

imladris taglist: @queenstarlight2

[sesamenom]

some funny snippets of a tentative timeline for the reverse gondolin au

[cupofclouds]

☁️ Hello dear human ☁️   How are you? I hope you are doing fantastic & that you are enjoying the new season 🌷 Spring makes me want to be and elf and live in Rivendell. So, I kind of had to do this ambience (plus, I adooore Elrond 🥹). 👉🏿 Okay, okay. Let's vote: Team Thranduil or Team Elrond? -Cos I can't decide and I need help- As requested, I tried to include more talking in this one. It's not perfect, but I do hope you like it nevertheless! ❤️‍🩹 So, get yourself a cup of tea (or drink of choice ☕️), your homework & let's travel to Rivendell where Lord Elrond will be the cosiest study companion! As always, thank you for being here, you beautiful soul. 💖 Hugs & lots of elvish love, Cup of Clouds

[doodle-pops]

A Matter of Honour and Pride

Glorfindel x reader

Kinktober 2023: Cunnilingus

A/N: Something about Glorfindel having great elven pride in his nature and being dedicated about it is just…beautiful. I feel like I should have made the entire exchange between them a separate fic the way I loved it so much :)

Warnings: fem!reader, cunnilingus, stubborn reader, a teeny weeny spanking, making out in public (because Glorfy has no shame)

Words: 3.3k

Synopsis: In matters of intimacy, a clash of mortal and elven pride unfolds. Glorfindel, driven by his deep elven pride, considers it a grave concern when his pride is wounded.

List of Requests

“So, you’re telling me that elves by nature aren’t sexual beings in the manner mortals are; however, when it comes to pleasure, you do not joke in that area?” you puzzled with an intrigued expression gracing your visage. You had hoped he would have heard your puzzling question over the loud ambience of the folks gathered in the Hall of Fire to celebrate the New Year. Possibly the worse place you could have decided to treat with the cocky golden–haired Lord.

The tales you had heard about him were indeed true, he was blinding the moment you laid eyes on him and full of pride towards the abilities of his race of folks. Nothing that slipped his tongue tonight ever diminished the pride and strength of his race, only boastings and cheers towards their accomplishments. Though his words of upliftment were joyous—nothing wrong with praising your race of folks—the need to make juxtaposes between men and elves was unnecessary. Nonetheless, his words were making chalk out of your teeth the more he spoke about elves, elves and more elves with less praise to men in the…pleasure department.

Standing in the furthest corner of the Halls, there you braced yourself against the wall while the noble Lord hovered with a much larger chalice in his hand, slowly slipping his grape–flavoured wine and eyeing you with interest. He wasn’t sure if it were your lips or the direction the conversation had drifted which had he ensnared, but he was sure it was you, nevertheless. Lifting the chalice to take another swig, his jaded eyes bore holes into your skull, sending waves of heat coursing through your body and leaving goosebumps.

“Hmm,” he hummed with seduction, eyes never leaving your face and lips, “it is so. However, despite not being promiscuous as men, one session with us is enough to leave one satisfied for weeks into months or even years until next we engage in intimacy.”

Chuckling at his witty comeback, you rolled your eyes and broke the palpable eye contact to glance at the dancefloor brimming with bodies swaying to the upbeat melody. “You know, if you have a low appetite and cannot fuck for long hours or multiple times, there should be no need for shame. Just say you elves cannot last for multiple rounds instead of making up telltales, and admit that men have a greater appetite than you,” you condescendingly replied with a smirk.

Biting his lips to withhold the growing smirk, he hung his head to lowly groan while releasing soft chuckles; you clearly had the wrong impression of his statement. Giving his lips a lick and stepping closer to tower over you—as if he wasn’t already—he craned his neck down to whisper as lowly as he could with a sinister grin dancing on his lips, “You entirely mistook my praise, my dear. It meant that us elves can indeed fuck for long hours, even days…in one go without stopping. One session is equivalent to days ramping in the sheets with us. We simply pleasure better than men; stamina and ability you lack to leave an everlasting effect.”

Wanting to react the way your body and mind were to his correction, you quickly recomposed your expression and posture, cleared your throat and scoffed. “Like I’d believe that. So what if one session is a couple of days between the sheets—normal, but how is one supposed to feel satisfied for months or years after that? It’s quite impossible if I say.”

Astonished by your lack of belief towards his factual statements about the nature of elves, he jerked his head backwards, stunned. The appalled look on his face bewitched his body and soul as he continued to observe your unbothered expression as you lazily sipped your wine and glanced around the dancefloor. You were supposed to be enthralled by the sexual prowess of the elves, not discard the information like a dirty rag. Was there something he wasn’t saying to capture your interest? Surely he used the right tricks in the book by speaking proudly about the stamina elves can endure, something the race of men lacked and should impress mortal women.

“Forgive me but,” he began with a light cough to regain your attention, “you don’t appear to be impressed by the skills of the elves when they clearly outweigh those of a mortal man. Am I correct?” He cocked his head to the other side allowing his golden tendrils to follow his movements and flow like a river of water. His hazy jaded eyes and reddened lips were a testament to how mad you were driving him to quelch his pride as an elf.

“You are right; I am unimpressed.” You paused to quench your thirst before continuing. “I find those facts to be one-sided given the monogamous relationships that elves practice and their lack of promiscuity in their lifestyle. Those praises reside from those whose pleasure is only heightened by the bond created from marriage and not one who is simply experiencing intimacy for the sake of bliss,” you elaborated with an arrogant smirk toying on your lips. The bolder and daring your egotistical look of self-praise grew, the more annoyed the golden hair Lord became as his grip tightened on his chalice.

Twitching his eye as an irritated look governed his face the more he stared at your smug expression, his pride flared with urgency to consume the very fibre of your being and prove you wrong. It was within his nature as an elf to remember the juxtaposes between man and elf; call him superior if you wish, there were things that elves wished to be considered the best at with pride.

“So, my words will only be considered factual if you are proven wrong?” He half-heartedly grinned.

“Hmm, yes. Otherwise, all that motion you did with your mouth would only be considered artistical and linguistical nonsense,” you dispassionately declared with another roll of your eyes and looked at your half–empty cup.

Liking the direction of where the conversation had drifted to, he couldn’t help but twist his tongue in his mouth at your words. What game were you playing with him? He could have sworn that you were purposefully egging him on, and he willingly allowed himself to play along, enjoying the challenge. “And what if I can prove to you that the motion of my mouth and,” he took the opportunity to dip closer and ghost his lips against the shell of your ear and whispered temptingly, “tongue can be artistic in other forms that will make you retract your statements?”

You froze at the proximity of his body brushing against yours; the heat rippling off and stirring your insides. The taunt muscles that he spent ages developing were pressed against your feeble figure causing your head to spin if it had not been for his hot breath and lips against the shell of your ear. You could feel his tongue slipping past his lips to trace the outline of your cartilage, slightly nibbling as he got lower until his lips became attached to your skin. The action made your drink slip from your grip, luckily due to his heightened senses, he was able to catch your cup midway through kissing the underside of your ear.

Lips still attached to the skin, he pressed your body flush against the wall, ignoring the notion that you were still trapped in a crowded room with spectators, he was determined to prove the abilities of an elf to you. However, it was you who reached your hand in between and gave a gentle push to break up the act.

Panting and attempting to not make eye contact all for the sake of not wanting to display how affected you were and to keep up your masquerade, you heaved and looked behind him, into the distance. “I thought elves weren’t indulgent?”

“I’m willing to bend the rules to prove me right,” he panted.

Darting your eyes to his reddened visage, you twisted your lips. “Prideful that much?”

Without missing a beat, he boasted, “Pride.”

**

If you had foreseen that you would end up in this situation right from the start, you might have skipped the entire conversation and urged him to prove himself right without delay. However, the anxious anticipation of defending your mortal pride was also essential to establish your dominance as a lesser being constantly overshadowed by others. Nonetheless, the position you now found yourself in, whether regarded as compromising or empowering, was undeniably pleasurable.

Having an elf on his knees, fervently worshipping your mortal body in a desperate bid to prove himself right while also ensuring your utmost pleasure was a scenario that couldn't have been more satisfying. However, your view became obscured when he swiftly removed your clothing and spun you around to face the cold oak doors, all while he eagerly dropped to his knees to worship. In line with his seductive prowess, he assured that he could deliver an unparalleled level of pleasure without penetration, as he had promised, solely by using his godly skilled tongue.

The loud, lascivious sounds of his tongue and lips slurping and smacking against your cunt with every twist and suction reverberated throughout the room. You were fortunate to have returned to his room in the nick of time, especially considering his hands and mouth had been all over your body the moment you departed the Hall of Fire. Thankfully, no unsuspecting elf had to witness the scandalous sight of their Lord engaging in intimate activities with an innocent mortal maiden in the corridor just meters away from his estate. Nevertheless, you were appreciative that the elf Lord was now on his knees, his face buried between your thighs, fervently slurping away as if it were his last meal.

A loud smack to your ass and his larger hands adjusted your body to arch into a deep curve. Your face was pressed against the cold wooden doors while your ass was stuck outwards from Glorfindel to marvel at while he slipped his tongue past your entrance. You would have found the position to be awkward and unappealing at first given the appearance of having your ass in his face, but he proved to you that it was enjoyable as if your legs were wrapped around his head. Grabbing your ass and spreading your cheeks apart to reach his tongue deeper and pushing his face into your heat, he thrust his tongue and curled it, forcing you to squeal louder for him.

“Hmm, don’t be so quiet about it dear. You know you’re enjoying this just as much as I am,” he taunted and teased while giving smacks to your ass and leaving handprints across the area.

Fighting to understand if the rolling of your eyes were due to the pleasure or the smugness in his voice, you found yourself slipping against the door as your sweat built. Fingers scraping against the wood, Glorfindel seemed to pay no mind to the destruction you were causing to his room; he didn’t mind if you trashed the entire place so long as you left here with your opinion in his favour.

Squealing and mewling as his tongue slipped out only for his entire heated mouth to engulf the entire area and form a suction over your clit; had his hand not found purchase on your hips to keep you upright, you would have toppled over. The motion of his lips over your clit reminded you of his linguistic abilities as Lord as he abused the tiny nub like a pacifier. The sounds were lewd as he continued to drink everything your body offered him freely; even the small trickles of liquid as your cunt clenched and squirted into his mouth, he consumed without pause. He refused to use his fingers, wanting to solely prove that his tongue was artistically inclined to demonstrate a prowess unlike any other.

“M-My Lord, fuck, ngghh,” you moaned into the door while his tongue ran over your sensitive clit and flicked it. “Hmm, so good—”

What the hell were you saying? You couldn’t slip up even though the pleasure was euphoric.

You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole for agreeing that he was indeed pleasuring you with the highest degree of satisfaction. To make matters worse, he agreed that he wasn’t going to engage in intercourse to prove his point about how otherworldly and spiritually powerful his race had on the body when it came to pleasure. He’d keep you here all week to get it into your head, and it him as he mentioned, “That’s just one session for us elves sweetheart.”

Smug superior being.

Chuckling into your core, his lips firmly grasping your clit, the resulting vibrations sent shivers coursing through your body, compelling you to arch even further into his embrace. You weren’t certain if it was possible to contort into a more debasing position than the one you currently occupied, but given his unwavering determination, he seemed capable of bending you into even more contorted shapes just to assert his elven superiority and compel you to acknowledge your inferiority.

“Are you enjoying this, my dear?” he murmured, his voice muffled as he allowed your ass to envelop his face, unconcerned about the possibility of suffocation, as long as he achieved his objectives first. His hands were actively exploring the rest of your body, primarily focused on your breasts, eager to grope them since he had been denied the opportunity earlier. His fingers teased and manipulated your sensitive nipples while he emitted low growls into your core, revelling in the increasing flow of your arousal and the trembling of your body. This was precisely what he had desired.

He longed to witness the expression on your face as the undeniable truth gradually unfolded, forcing you to confront your denials head-on. He relished the prospect of observing you struggle to reject his abilities, even as the evidence was as clear as day. However, he didn’t mind if you chose to cling to your denials; it only meant that he would keep you ensnared and engrossed in pleasure for the remainder of the week, rendering your tongue incapable of uttering dissent.

As your legs quivered uncontrollably, you bit your lip to stifle the moans and whimpers that threatened to escape. The tears welling up at the corners of your eyes served as testimony to the undeniable reality he presented, yet you remained steadfast in your refusal to concede to his pride. This couldn't be the truth; it must be some illusion crafted by deceitful elves and their enchantments.

“Fuck!” you cried out as your body convulsed. “F-Far from enjoying i-it. You should p-put your back into it more, I barely feel a t–…thing!”

Suppressing a chuckle, it escaped unexpectedly, bursting forth but immediately muffled by the enveloping warmth of his mouth on your pussy. The resulting vibrations rippled through your body, sending waves of goosebumps cascading down your spine. Your legs nearly buckled from the clever manoeuvre, betraying your resolve as your body responded contrary to your intentions. At that moment, his left hand abandoned your breast, descending upon your ass with a firm touch, eliciting a chorus of squeaks and gasps, his aim clearly to extract more moans from you.

The apprehension swirling in your mind, as your body defied your steadfast intentions, was humbling. Here he was, coaxing your reactions like a skilled snake charmer. You bit down on your lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to fend off the growing sensations welling up in the pit of your stomach. This couldn’t be real; your body couldn’t possibly be experiencing pleasure of such overwhelming intensity. If this was just the outcome of one round, with the session barely underway, you doubted your ability to endure the ensuing hours or days if he chose to push the boundaries further, as a testament to his resolve.

The suctions of his lips, moving in perfect harmony with his tongue, shattered your ability to concentrate on anything besides the consuming pleasure of being pleasured orally. His languid strokes over your clit, alternating with teasing nips and gentle kisses, sent your mind spiralling into oblivion. You couldn’t discern which way was up, down, left, or right. For all you knew, you could have been transported to another realm while your most intimate desires were savoured like a sumptuous five-course meal. Why was he so fervent and insistent? You yearned to push him away, yet simultaneously, you craved to keep him closer as the mounting pressure threatened to breach the dam.

You were on the brink, desperately fighting the surge of your mortal pride as it threatened to drown you in the overwhelming desire to cum all over his tantalizing tongue and eager face. You weren’t supposed to enjoy this, yet every stroke and thrust of his tongue felt like a divine gift, setting your body on a path to cloud nine. The undeniable arousal flowing from your core made it nearly impossible to maintain your defences. Damn it, you despised your own body and cursed the magic of his tongue, yet you willingly pushed your ass out to meet its tantalizing movements.

As your body tensed, you couldn’t be sure if you collapsed or if he had pulled you closer, but you knew that the pleasure surged and broke through your dams. All you could discern was that your back was no longer pressed against the door but against a solid wall of sinewy muscle. The soft moans you had been holding back escaped your lips, carried through the air to meet his senses, spreading a triumphant grin across his face. Your arousal smeared across his visage; his lips and chin were adorned with your slick essence, his eyes glazed and brimming with a primal delight. He withdrew slightly, allowing his hands to explore your core, teasing your clit and savouring the way your body quivered and trembled under his skilful touch.

“Are you ready to yield and confess?” he inquired; his voice laced with a challenge.

Squealing from the touch of his finger against your entrance, dancing around the inner lips, you cried out, “N-No! So what—So what if you made me cum; what does that prove?” You were quite the challenge and determined to reject his narrative on the nature of elves.

Your body had already surrendered, sprawled lethargically on the floor in a foetal curl, trembling ever so slightly. It felt as if he had electrified you a thousand times over, and his heightened sensitivity was only adding to the overwhelming aftermath. He continued to goad you, pushing you further toward his grasp as if you hadn't been within his control all along.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning over your limp form, his lips tracing a path along your sweaty skin, inching upward until they reached your earlobe. “I don’t believe you fully comprehend the control I wield in this situation. No matter how many times you resist the pleasure, I will persist, possessing a stamina that mortals lack. If you happen to lose consciousness, rest assured that my presence will be etched into your being for all eternity. Every action you take, every thought you have, will bear the mark of my touch. Now, the single session we initially agreed upon is far from over—”  

“Glorfindel,” you cried out, interrupting him as he loomed over your form, his lips still caressing your sensitive skin, indulging in delicate nibbles along the way.

Gazing up at you with seemingly innocent eyes, he sported a self-satisfied countenance. “Have you conceded?” he inquired, though it didn’t appear to matter much to him. “Nonetheless, our single session is far from finished, and as a warrior, I possess boundless stamina. A touch of promiscuousness wouldn’t hurt to demonstrate that elves excel in delivering pleasure beyond mortal capabilities.”

“You’re joking right?” you questioned overwhelmed.

“A matter of my honour and pride as an elf.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou

[kat651]

Y/n, reaching for a book on a high shelf: curse my hight…

lindir: would you like some help?

y/n, startled: oh yes, thank you.

lindir grabs the book and hands it to y/n.

y/n: I’m y/n by the way…

“Lindir,” he said, taking your hand gently and kissing it. “I’ve heard good things about you…”

you blushed. “L-like what?”

lindir smiled, listing some of your greatest attributes.

you were surprised when he finished. “I- wow…”

he smiled “and it also appears your beauty outdoes the other elves by far.”

you blushed and looked away shyly. “Your too kind…”

[lovefairymina]

*Mermaid y/n leaving shells for Glorfindel*

Glorfindel: “So you are the one who has been leaving me these wonderful gifts. Please don’t go! I’ve rarely met your kind before, and even then it was very brief. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Y/N, shy coming out of hiding: “I know you don’t. I leave these gifts to thank you for saving me the other day. The race of men often hunt my people, and I’ve heard tales of elves back in the early days of Middle Earth doing the same. You seem fair and beautiful, but I’m still rather frightened.”

His golden hair caught in the light as he knelt before you with a soft smile—his gaze warm and unguarded. “I would never harm you,” he reassured gently but firmly. “You have nothing to fear from me. If anything, I owe you for the gift of your trust.” He extended his hand, palm raised, as an invitation, his eyes never leaving yours.

[elffromforests]

Only one thing bothers me. The fact that the creators of the show said that Celebriana was not born yet. , although according to history it already exists...

it's vital for my mental health that the show introduces celebrían and we get to see this man fall in love with his wife

[leucisticpuffin]

Elrond in the flower garden at Imladris, for @imladrisweek.

Some notes:

The garden has its own odd ecosystem: plants bloom at odd times, summer flowers linger long after the world without has turned to autumn, and certain plants thrive there that would not ordinarily survive the cold winters of northern Eriador. Hence hollyhocks, globe thistle, lavender, clematis, and (most peculiarly) wisteria are all in bloom in early autumn.

As the house and gardens are built into the sides of the valley, terraced gardens suited the landscape best. The terraces are accessed by sloping walkways rather than steps, ensuring they are accessible to Imladris' disabled inhabitants and those who come to Elrond for healing.

The oak-tree fountain is (irl) inspired by the work of sculptor Mehrdad Tafreshi. In-universe, similar fountains existed in Menegroth and Nargothrond, the work of a Sindarin coppersmith who was later well-known in Eregion for crafting complex, increasingly fantastical representations of plants and animals (both real and imagined). He called them 'imperishable forests'. Much of his work decorated the squares and buildings of Ost-in-Edhil. He was killed in the sacking of that city; the tree in Elrond's garden was made by one of his pupils.

If you zoom in on the top terrace, you will find statues of Luthien dancing and Elwing with a seabird.

Elrond's outfit was inspired by a 1910 House of Worth tea gown.

It took Elrond several centuries to admit that he needed reading-glasses (quirks of being a Peredhel). The arms of his glasses don't hook over the ear, so they're tied in place with cord.

This is possibly the most time-consuming piece of art I've ever done, clocking in at seventy-two and a half hours; I just barely finished it in time! Please please enlarge to look at all the tiny details :)

[sun-snatcher]

Elrond has a conch shell.

Not one of the prettier ones you would imagine, with the spikes and spots— No, this is a weathered and lumpy one; Sandy coloured and boring, for lack of a better word, only offset by the fact there’s a weird star-shaped hole you can peek through.

He brings it everywhere he travels.

Theory goes that it’s a magical trumpet gifted to him. Or, that he keeps secret messages in it for safekeeping. And his favourite: that he’s bound to the shell by oath, and if he steps a mere pace away from it, Ulmo would transform him into foam like a cursed sea-nymph. (You can imagine that one was debunked quite easily.)

No matter; the most important thing the Elves have come to learn about its peculiar existence is that above all: You do not touch it. (One of the younger elven recruits of a party learns this the hard way mid-travel, when he’d— bless him— grabbed the shell and suggested the idea to cast it aside, in exchange for more space to fit a spare skin of water.

It’s the first they’d ever seen Elrond snap like a whip.

Nobody dares question it since.)

That is, until young Estel had found it.

They can hardly blame the little child. Idle hands and curious trinkets never mix well, after all, much less with that of a 6-year-old who’s come to learn his bright-eyes and daisy-face lent him the ability to get away with almost anything.

“Look, Atya!” He’s skipped his way up to one of the open galleries of Imladris, hefting the coveted conch over his head as he peers at the night sky. “I can see the Evening Star through this hole!”

The Elves pale. They wait for the tongue-lashing, but the storm never comes.

“Not like that, Estel,” corrects Elrond patiently, bending to lower the child’s arms. “Put it to your ear, and close your eyes. Yes, now tell me, what do you hear?”

“…The sea!” he exclaims, after a focused minute. Then Estel lights up, and so Elrond lights up, and suddenly there’s a laughter in the air akin to a musical ring of bells, so high and sunny it dispels the witnessing Elves’ tension from the air.

“But how? We’re too far from the shores, and I can’t hear as well as you. Do you hear it too? Listen, Atya, listen!”

“Yes, yes,” Elrond laughs, and holds his hand over his son’s to bring the shell to his ears. And yes, indeed, if he closes his eyes, he could almost see it: The great rushing shores of Sirion, the pitter patter of Elros’ feet splashing at the rolling tides, the salt-winds carrying Maglor’s distant singing and Maedhros’ disgruntlement over grains of sand in his hair.

Elros had had a Conch of his own. His was bright and ivory-coloured, long since laid to rest alongside him in Númenor. When they were younger, they used to believe they could communicate with each other through the shells no matter their space apart— some imaginary fancy planted by Maedhros (“You two are twins. That’s a magic no force nor distance in the world can unmake.”) which was inevitably nurtured by their child-like wonder.

Years after Númenor had sunken, Celebrían caught Elrond once or twice, speaking to the old conch, and bringing it up to his ear in hopes of a reply.

“What do you hear, Atya?”

“My brother,” he says. “Amidst the heart of the sea.”

[havenotwillnotreadthebooks]

Ok but imagine the Noldor trying to have a nice banquet after the entire Finwean Fam has been therapized and released from Mandos. Except Eonwë is the one announcing the names and titles as people arrive (it’s supposed to be a sign of goodwill from the Valor).

All goes well (except when he announces to the entire room that “Fingon Findékano Astaldo Nolofiniwion, Prince of The Noldor and Husband of Maedhros Neylafinwë Maitimo Feanorian” has arrived. In his defense, Eonwë didn’t know secret marriages could last almost four ages). But the Real Drama starts when Elrond arrives.

When Elrond arrives; Eonwë looks at the Peredhel in the entranceway, looks at his magic Scroll of Heritage-Information, and there is a long moment of silence where Eonwë contemplates if he really wants to spend 5 whole minutes announcing Elrond’s heritages.

Eonwë, in the end, decides to take a shortcut. Cuz how wrong could it go? As such, he announced to the Finwean Fam, several courtiers, several politicians, and to the face of Finwe’s actual children that “Elrond, Lord of Imladris Remade, Descendant of Finwë Noldoran and Elwë Singollo, and [Insert Celebrian’s Introduction] has arrived.”

Speculations rise, and whispers are everywhere about what the hell “Descendant of Finwë and Elwë” could mean. (A lovechild, somebody says once jokingly).

Elrond was expecting Earendilion, Neylafinwion, or Kanafinwion, even Peredhel. He was not expecting the first kings of the Noldor and Sindar themselves to be named.

Anyway, the worst part is that because of Mixed Ancestry, Elrond actually does look like a combination of Finwë and Elwë. The lovechild rumors grow.

[absentmindeduniverse]

This is so so so so awesome 👍🥰😍

Make Me Believe

↳ Make Me Believe, Lindir x Reader, angsty fluff with a spicy finish Dedicated to @heilith - 💕 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY LOVE! 💕 A/N: Dear, friend! I hope you will enjoy your present, I certainly enjoyed writing it for you. It's not much, more of a drabble but I love the way it turned out, and I loved writing for our precious elf who only deserves love and good things.

Imagine being courted by Lindir while he struggles to accept that your feelings are sincere as he doesn't feel worthy of someone as wonderful and beautiful as yourself.

You had been as happy and excited as that day when you had shared your first kiss and learned that your affections and feelings were mutual. You could recall with perfect clarity the warm and sunny day in the luscious gardens of Imladris when he had humbly offered you his courtship; how your heart had leapt in delight and glee as you had accepted his offer, a swarm of summer butterflies fluttering inside your stomach as he expressed his bottomless gratitude with a tempered kiss that had left you wanting more. The sweet taste of his lips making your imagination run wild with desire you never knew you had until his mouth had claimed yours and showed you otherwise; allowing you a glimpse of a promise that one day you would be his and he would be yours.

The echo of that day remained with you, engraved in your heart and etched into your soul to keep you company during your times apart when his duties would pull him away from your touch. It seemed like grave injustice that your moments together would be so fleeting and short while your time apart seemed to stretch and go on for longer than you could bear before your heart would begin aching with longing. Yet you couldn’t deny that when you were together, however fleeting and temporary the moment appeared to be, it never failed to consume you whole.

Yet it wasn’t enough, never enough. Not anymore.

“You seem thoughtful, my starlight,” Lindir observed as his dexterous fingers coursed through your hair like a steady wave of the sea.

A long breath escaped your lips as you lacked the heart to tell him the truth; it was becoming harder to enjoy your moments of closeness for the thought of them coming to an end pained you too much. Unwillingly you were forced to admit to yourself that it was no longer enough as your heart ached for more. More time, more moments, more of him, more of this. More of everything.

“Your silence bears the signs of foreboding. Are you no longer content with being my intended?” his question felt like a sharp dagger through your heart.

You lifted your head off his chest and moved to sit up, your eyes taking in the sight of the sorrow that was plain on his fair features. How could you blame him for thinking you had grown weary of him when you knew he regarded you as nothing short of a miracle.

For someone who was looked upon with the utmost respect by his peers and fellow Elves, Lindir lacked the confidence and effortless grace which the others possessed. As High Secretary to the Lord of Imladris, Lindir ranked as the second most powerful and influential Elf yet he did not view himself as such making him utterly oblivious - whether by choice or chance, that remained to be seen - to the power residing in his voice and the meticulously written words of his quill.

“Your words wound me but not for the reasons you might think,” you said mournfully as your palm reached up and brushed lightly against the soft skin on his cheek.

“I did not mean to offend you, my love,” he spoke as his eyes searched your face, seeking out the hurt he had unknowingly bestowed upon you.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you shook your head at his ridiculous words.

“You fear I’ve grown tired of you while my heart desperately longs for more of you than our fleeting moments together. You fear I no longer wish to be your intended yet my soul aches to lace with yours,” you explained softly as your fingers took their time lightly tracing his features.

“I must confess, it has become unbearably hard to enjoy myself with you because I cannot help but dread the excruciating moment of your inevitable departure,” you admitted at last and dropped your palm from his face as shame washed over you.

Selfish you were, demanding more before it was time; guilty of secretly wanting him to disregard or at least delay his duties just to satisfy your greed.

“Is that really the truth of it?” he asked after a moment had passed, his voice on a brink of a faint whisper.

You nodded with your eyes pinned on your clasped hands on your lap, unable and unwilling to look at the most selfless person that ever was or would be. A true gift to his people and his Lord, yet shamefully captured in your selfish hands.

“I am not your miracle, nor am I a cruel twist of fate sent to lure you in only to discard you after,” you suddenly felt the need to explain to him, to convince him, that you indeed wanted him and loved him as much as you did, that it wasn’t all a grand joke of the universe made at his expense.

You needed him to see himself through your loving eyes, nothing short of that would erase his irrational fears.

“I am here, and my heart is yours to do with as you please as is my entire being. My only wish is that you find it in you to accept my devotion to you,” you whispered shortly before you dared to look up and find his gaze.

Lindir looked at you for what seemed like forever, not a single muscle moved on his face while his brown eyes remained pinned on yours. You weren’t entirely sure he was even breathing.

“Is that your sincere wish and desire?” he whispered while his face remained utterly unreadable.

“Yes.”

“Then I shall stay tonight and for all the nights to come,” for once Lindir spoke without any hesitation, his voice carrying the strong intent behind his uttered promise.

Selfish and unyielding as you were, you needed more than his words.

“Show me.”

You hadn’t thought it possible, you had plenty dreamed and fantasized about it but you hadn’t thought him capable or even willing of it. The way his eyes had darkened in desire and gleamed with ravenous hunger after the words had left your lips; the way his arms went around your frame and pulled you onto his lap where his mouth instantly claimed yours as he shed the last of his reserve.

You hadn’t dared to hope it was possible yet he showed you otherwise.

@tharan-duil @i-did-not-mean-to @missymoo02 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @aduialel @coopsgirl → Gif Source