#beleg x reader
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doodle-pops · 1 month ago
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Spell Your Name with Your Tongue
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Characters: Maglor, Celegorm, Finarfin, Finrod, Glorfindel, Egalmoth, Beleg
A/N: Basically headcanons on how they go down on you, not that any of you mind :). I had this in my drafts two years ago, and I need to get it out.
Warnings: smut, female reader, cunnilingus, mention of wanting to be impregnated, overstimulation, marathon sex, making you beg, facesitting
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જ⁀➴Maglor
He eats you out for his pleasure and for yours; gravitates towards his pleasure because he loves the sounds you make. It’s one of the other times you get to see him become aggressive, and he doesn’t mind having to tie you down to the bed to keep you from squirming about the place.
As much as he loves the feeling of your legs suffocating the life out of him, he doesn’t want to spend most of the time fighting you to keep your legs open for him to have a proper taste.
The times when he doesn’t stand much of a chance with tying your legs apart is when you’re sitting on his face, he’ll let you squeeze his head with your thighs. He does have an oral fixation and puts it to ultimate use.
Your legs were wide apart, bound to the bedpost with elven ropes along with your arms and your eyes blindfolded. The only noises heard were the faint shuffling of Maglor’s footsteps on the carpet before you felt two calloused hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider and the hot breath fanning your cunt. It wasn’t long before you felt his tongue dipping into your heat, licking a bold stripe from bottom to top and then nipping at your clit.
“Ngh—Káno, fuck, fuck,” squealing into the bedroom air as his mouth wrapped itself around your clit and gave firm sucks, Káno hummed in delight at your taste. His tongue slithered effortlessly over your clit and flicked the delicate bud with excellency.
“My dear, if you do not cease your squirming, I’ll tie your legs to the headboard.” His chin and lips were coated in your arousal as he spoke while licking them. You knew that this was the start of a long night before he stole orgasm after orgasm from you and left you crying and shaking mess.  
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જ⁀➴Celegorm
This ellon eats you out for his pleasure because he loves your taste and it’s his favourite taste in the entire world. He’s aggressive from start to finish he doesn’t care if he sends you into overstimulation.
If you aren’t crying from the pleasure, he isn’t doing his job right. He spreads your legs apart and buries his face into your heat like a savage animal and stains his face in your arousal.
Celegorm doesn’t have the time to tease you, he just dives right in to have his meal because he’s a messy eater.
“Tyelko, p-please, fuck—” You were biting your lips hard enough to draw blood and probably did already from the way your lover’s tongue was thrusting in and out of your cunt. The grip he had on your thighs prevented you from riding his face because he wanted to be the one delivering all your pleasure. The tears were already staining your face from the endless orgasms he took you through, you weren’t sure which round you were on.
“You have more in you kitten, I know you do, hmm.” The seductive grin he sent your way before dragging your cunt over his mouth, letting your clit bump against his nose force your body to convulse above him.
“P-Please, I-I can’t—no more…” Wailing and pleading for him to ease up because your body was growing tired, he ignored your words and continued to work his tongue deeper into your cunt, wiggling it around and collecting every drop of your essence, refusing to let anything go to waste.
“I’m far from finished, you’re not going away until I say you can.” All you could do was grip his silvery strands and tug them in hopes of lasting through the rest you were about to experience.
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જ⁀➴Finarfin
Please, somebody, come get Finarfin life support because he decided he no longer wants to be King and wants to die being suffocated between your legs because it’s the best way to go out. Seriously, this man is tired and when he’s tired, he eats it.
He’ll allow you to ride his face to destress while wearing his crown to remind you that your King is here to serve his Lady. You’re the one person he would get on his knees to serve without question. You’re the one person who he’d forget he’s a King and worship.
Two options: when he’s tried, ride his face, and when he’s not tired, it’s because you’re tired and begging him to stop. It was probably something you did to rile him up and weren’t aware of how ravenous he already was. Poor little bunny getting devoured by a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The dominancy is thriving.
The throne room is empty but by the Gods, it’s loud and filled with the incessantly lewd slurping sounds of your pussy being eaten by your King who’s angelically lying underneath on the polished floor. The crown lopsided on his head and his fingers digging into your thighs, leaving behind marks only visible to his eyes when he undresses you tonight, he pushes his face deeper. Any moment now, someone, anyone would barge in demanding to treat with the High King to witness him being suffocated happily by your cunt.
Your attempts at rising off his face were shut down by a firm tug and a grunt. His blue eyes flashed upwards in annoyance, giving you the unspoken rule of thumb—denying your pleasure got you punished, plus, he was stressed, just let him indulge in bliss.
“My King,” you moaned and raked your fingers through his golden curls, pushing his crown completely off, “we’re going to be caught. We can continue this elsewhere…ngghh.”
Displeasure spirals across his face at your suggestion. He didn’t desire to move elsewhere when he was already enjoying his meal here in the comforts of this space. Fighting the urge to pull away, he dragged his lips off your clit and warned, “As much as you are my Queen and I’d do anything, you do not command me for something like this. I will finish when it pleases me.”
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જ⁀➴Finrod
He looks so innocent when he smiles and tells you that he wants to be between your legs but oh my fucking god, when Finrod starts, he doesn’t like to stop. It’s almost as if he’s drunk off of your cunt.
Eating you out is by far his favourite sexual activity, and he spends a copious time self-indulging, though, he is generous about his mercies and ensures that you receive equal pleasure while praising you.
Finrod does have an oral fixation which makes his desire to have his face buried between your legs greater. He can spend an hour (because you almost passed out) giving you all the pleasure in the world.
The crown sat on your King’s head but crooked from the angle he positioned himself. Lying under you with your cunt hovering mere inches from his lips���already glistening with your arousal from earlier; his hot breath fanned your clit making you shiver in anticipation. There was an innocent, lopsided smirk on his face followed by a dazed look in his eyes as his finger trailed through your folds, collecting your arousal and slipped into his mouth.
“…come, sit yourself on your throne meleth, I’m far from finished with you,” he hummed as his hands tugged your cunt to rest against his mouth. Your cried permeated the room along with breathless sighs and pleads for him to not stop.
“Fuck, please, p-please, oh—humph.” Your King was on a mission to drain every last drop you had to offer him. He was craving you all day, thought of your taste on his mind and now he was fulfilling his wishes.
“Taste so good nîn loth, go ahead and cum all over my face, I still want more.” His firmness was heavy and firm as he ground your cunt over his mouth, loving the way your body just keep producing more juices for him to consume.
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જ⁀➴Glorfindel
A fucking tease that shows no mercy and loves to hear you beg because it fuels his ego and eggs him on to bring you to another orgasm. With Glorfindel, it’s always ‘just one more love, can you do that for me please’ and then he makes you cum five times back-to-back with little to no remorse.
The fucking grin he sends your way as if you’re not on the verge of passing out makes you want to rub it off his face. When Glorfindel eats you out, it’s for his pleasure (your pleasure is always included) but he just wants to make you cum and squirt all over him to boost his pride.
The worst is when he forces you to look him in the eye and describe to him exactly how you want to be eaten out—it always leads to you having to beg him because you could never explain yourself.
Your face was already red from the sheer embarrassment of having your superior’s face between your legs, hovering over your most sacred place and now he wanted you to describe to him how you wished to be eaten out. His lips would ghost your folds whenever he was shifting his mouth off the inner of your thighs, placing butterfly kisses and waiting for you to respond. “I’m waiting little one, I know you want this, so might as well tell me,” his hot breath tickled your clit as he spoke directly above your cunt.
One finger was tracing your fold, lightly touching and keeping the pressure light. “Laurë, p-please, just p-please use your tongue…mouth,” your hands covered your face because you couldn’t bear to make eye contact. His eyes bore into your covered ones as he looked on before sighing and dipping his head to meet your cunt. You couldn’t shut your legs around his head like you wished to, instead, his large, calloused hands pushed them to meet your head while his tongue worked magic on your clit.
Spit-slicked and covered, his tongue rang circles making your head spin as the pressure built. Nipping and tugging at your bundle of nerves, he placed all his energy into getting you off and then pulled away at the last minute, “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast. I haven’t forgotten you princess—you still haven’t told me how you wish to cum…so describe it or I’ll leave.”
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જ⁀➴ Egalmoth
Between him Glorfindel and Celegorm I can’t tell who’s the worse because he’s sweet and aggressive at the same time. A fucking devil who means business when it’s time to get down.
He’ll let you do as you please because just wants to have his tongue buried between your legs. Egalmoth will sweet talk you into letting him eat you out and perform the craziest stunts. Always gives a kiss to your clit before he starts because “greetings are important”.
He loves to make you embarrassed and shy and will force you to keep eye contact or he will stop completely. Can and will stop in the middle of sex to eat you out despite your oversensitivity because that means you’ll be able to squirt for him.
Extremely prideful and expects that you praise him while he’s sucking the life out of you, once you do, you can kiss time goodbye because you lose track of it. What round are you on, 4? 5? 8?
The quick flip of your body on the bed and your face is planted into the sweaty sheets with your ass in the air. No warning was given, thinking that Egalmoth was going to take you from behind, but instead, you feel his hot tongue slithering over your cunt before dipping around your entrance to lazily thrust his tongue. You couldn’t escape his torture even when your body screamed at you to run, his hands were fastened to your hips, securing you still.
“Ngh—E-Egalmoth, please, god no more I can’t…” you hiccupped, and he couldn’t be bothered with your pleas. All that mattered was his tongue in your cunt, salvaging all your arousal.
With every jerk of your body away from his mouth, he would tighten his grip on your thighs and push your pussy into his face to be smothered in his as his tongue made figure eights on your clit. His calloused hand would come down to deliver quick rounds of pats to your clit as he pulled his moistened lips away, glistening with your cum. “Of course, you can give me another, I’m far from finished after all.”  
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જ⁀➴ Beleg
There’s just something about the hunters and their dominance that just sends anyone crazy in both a good and bad way. Like don’t get me wrong, Beleg over here would let you lead the way until you are incapacitated.
Cradle his head as he kneels before his princess, run your fingers through his silvery hair, give them a few tugs, and guide his mouth to where you want it most. The only thing is that when he settles in and his mouth is attached, you can’t get him off until he decides when it’s right.
Don’t tug, pull or yank his head away; rub his head and cry out his name, that’s all. When he eats pussy, it’s for you, but he’s still in control. Feel me? He decides when enough is enough and if he wants to eat it for hours, deal with it. You can’t tell this man that he isn’t pleasuring you correctly—that’s a punishment right there with silent treatment.
He eats pussy when he’s stressed, happy, hungry, bored, etc. And he loves it when you sit on his face, riding him till thy kingdom come.
Flinging your head into the pillow to suppress another loud moan building in the pit of your throat, your devoted husband listened to your pleas of wanting to have another baby and was passionately at work. It seemed that you had forgotten how indulgent he became when he was serious about committing to an important act. Nothing was ever performed half-heartedly.
Fingers tugging on the gossamer locks buried between your legs and sucking on your clit like some pacifier, you squirmed at the oncoming wave of pleasure building in your hips. From where you lay, his silvery hair was all you would make out and his lips and tongue were feverishly at work. The way his large warrior hands gripped your thighs leaving behind secret imprints as they spread your legs apart wider to give him better access drove you to the brink of insanity.
“Fuck Beleg, are you trying to kill me?! Ease up, ease up…” whining in his ear was the most beautiful music and the only type he wanted to hear. After all, you asked for a baby, and as your husband, it was his duty to fulfil your wish. He needed to prepare your body for taking his release with ease.
Feeling guilty for the overwork he played on your tender cunt, he pulled away with lips coated in your arousal and glanced upwards to meet your closed eyes. “Forgive me, love, I do tend to get cared away. You do taste divine, perhaps I shall treat myself one day without a request.”
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Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @addaigio @elficially-done-with-life @feanorynz @6esi @will-0-wsps @the0twst0shrimp0mc @ella-error505 @xximmortalkissxx
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lamemaster · 4 months ago
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Things the Silmarillion elves find adorable about a human reader
After surveying the recurring elves of this blog, here are seven things they find adorable about humans:
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Waving Greeting
Maedhros froze the first time you did it. Across the military camp, you excitedly waved at him. Raising your arm high, you waved, smiling broadly, and your elf froze in his path. For a fleeting moment, he thought it must be someone else you were so happy to greet. But no. It was him. With unpracticed-stiff movements, he raised his own arm and waved back. He watched as laughter bubbled out of you, and you ran to him, leaving him utterly dumbfounded yet his heart leaping out of his chest.
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Baggy Clothing
Glorfindel tries not to stare, but by Elbereth, it is hard. Drowning in his robes, you look utterly adorable. The way the sleeves flow down your arms, completely covering your hands, and how the fabric pools around your feet, it’s enough to make him squeal. He worries briefly that you might trip, but for now, he’s too busy enjoying the sight. Picking you up in his arms, he resists the urge to squeeze you, mindful of the last time he tried and how poorly that ended for him. Still, his heart aches at how endearing you look, swallowed by the robes that were never quite meant for you.
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Breathless Laughter
The entire palace can hear it. Yet this does not stop the subtle smile it puts on everyone’s face. Sitting across from you, Finrod watches you wheeze with laughter, clutching your stomach as you fall off your chair. Your face is red, your eyes brimming with tears. “I think I peed a little,” you whisper through giggles as your friend continues laughing uncontrollably. Finrod loves the sight of such unrestrained joy, raw, rugged happiness amid marred lands. How wonderful it must be, he thinks, to express joy so freely.
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Apologizing to Inanimate Objects
It’s not the first time Maeglin has seen you do this. Bumping into a corner, you mutter a quick “Sorry,” rubbing your arm as though the object could feel pain. Wooden crates, rocks, curtains, tables, nothing escapes your apologies, and Maeglin secretly adores it. It’s such an absentminded habit, and yet it speaks volumes about your nature. There is, however, one exception: when you stub your toe on something. Then, your mouth lets loose with the vocabulary of a seasoned sailor. Much to his dismay (and secret delight), Maeglin finds even this utterly endearing. But there’s absolutely no way he’s telling you that. He keeps that fondness locked away where you’ll never uncover it.
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Love for Blankets
Fingon has trekked across the Helcaraxe. He knows the cold and understands the precious value of warmth. Yet, his appreciation pales in comparison to yours. He absolutely loves your ritual of joy at the sight of your bed. The way you jump into your blankets, rubbing your feet together, scrunching your eyes shut, and giggling. It’s a sight he never tires of. On nights when he gets to witness this, Fingon even mimics your antics, despite not feeling the cold himself. He delights in how you grin and snuggle into him, often followed by your sneaky attempt to press your freezing feet against his. Though he feigns annoyance, he treasures every moment of it.
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Physical Touch
Beleg smiles broadly the moment you enter a room. Without fail, your eyes scan the space until they find him, and then you make your way over to sit beside him. Every. Single. Time.
He loves how humans gravitate toward physical closeness, finding contentment in proximity alone. Unlike elves, who feel bonds through senses, heartbeats, or thoughts, you seek him out with pure will. Every time you do, Beleg can’t help but put his arms around you, squeezing you in a way he’s seen you do to him. And when you hum contentedly, he melts just a little more.
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Baby Voice
Celegorm can’t help but laugh at the way your voice softens when you bend down to pet Huan. Every time you see the hound, you greet him with exaggerated enthusiasm, “Who’s a goob boy?” Celegorm has, on several occasions, reminded you that Huan is older than your grandfather, older than your entire kind, in fact. Yet this knowledge hasn’t dimmed your excitement one bit. Your bubbly tone, the kisses on Huan’s paws, the endless stream of pets, Celegorm finds it both amusing and endearing. Much to your credit, Huan is completely putty in your hands.
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batsyforyou · 9 months ago
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A Wild Puddle Encounter!
Tags: Puddles, water
Author's Note: So, I went to bed last night and was smacked with this idea. It kept me really entertained so I hope someone gets a giggle out of it, cause I did.
Taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese
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Would lift you over the puddle, help you over 
Glorfindel, Maglor, Celebrimbor, Beleg, Ecthelion, Thranduil, Gildor, Elrond, Finarfin, Fingolfin, Feanor, Finrod, Caranthir, Celebrimbor, Meludir
Would walk through the puddle and tease you about avoiding it 
Celegorm, Beleg, Mablung, Curufin, Feanor, Maeglin, Thranduil, Glorfindel, Fingon, Legolas, Celebrimbor
Would purposely splash the puddle 
Elladan, (me), Celegorm, Curufin (the not fun version), Meludir, Amras, Amrod, Fingon, Legolas
Would take off their cloak and put it over the puddle for you too cross
Finarfin, Fingolfin, Glorfindel, Gil Galad. Eonwe, Irmo, Finrod, Celebrimbor
Would avoid it, walk around
Erestor, Maedhros, Lindir, Curufin, Feanor, Elrohir, Caranthir, Turgon, Caranthir, Maglor
Would notice you avoiding it and make you “Embrace the suck” by making you walk through it
Sauron, Feren, Gildor, Namo, Haldir, 
Could not care it exists and walks straight through 
Eonwe, Celegorm, Mablung, Maedhros, Namo, Ulmo, Beleg, Legolas, Haldir, Eol, Sauron, Ulmo, Celebrimbor,
Would walk through the puddle while complaining or with a grimace on their face
Lindir, Turgon, Caranthir, Elrohir 
Happily splashes the puddle and later complains about their boots being wet
Elladan, Amras, Amrod, (me)
Would challenge it to a fight Pokémon style 
Glorfindel, Celegorm, Beleg, Fingon, Elladan, (me)
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mur4sak1 · 6 months ago
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Elves with an insecure reader (part 2)
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For the previous part click here -> Part 1
Characters: Rog, Celegorm, Argon, Beleg
Rog: Rog is an elf accustomed to strength, action and determination. He's not someone who shows his feelings easily, and he's certainly not adept at dealing with the emotions of others. So when they start showing signs of your insecurities, he would have a really hard time understanding how to deal with the situation. He would notice your sadness or hesitation, but his first reaction would be a mix of frustration and confusion. “Why do you let these things get you down?” he could ask you, but he would do it with a direct and somewhat abrupt tone that could hurt you... he wouldn't do it on purpose, but because he really wouldn't understand it. At the beginning it was a burden for him, he ignored your feelings thinking that the best way to deal with something was to move forward without thinking too much, a bit like what happened in battle... Rog had grown up like this; life in the forges was fast, difficult and independent, you couldn't count on anyone but yourself and to survive it was necessary to gain strength, eliminating your weaknesses before they affected you. When he noticed that you were sad or unsure, he would just stay silent, almost hoping that you would get over it on your own. He was the type to offer you practical solutions, rather than attentive listening: “Why do you worry about this? There is always a way to improve.” However, with time you would realize that your doubts and insecurities are not something that can be solved with a simple strategy. Unfortunately, after hundreds of years in which his empathy had been forcibly suppressed, he no longer knew how to bring it back to the surface. So he would still not do anything in particular to address your problems, but he would definitely no longer belittle you like he did in the beginning. He would have understood that everyone fights their battles differently and that not everyone is strong in the same way. For him, accepting your fears and fragilities meant respecting your individuality, recognizing that your way of dealing with it was as valid as his. He would never again tell you that your emotions were "weaknesses" or that you should simply ignore them, because he would understand that his role was not to change you, but to protect and support you. It was precisely the thousand emotions that you were able to express without fear that made him fall in love, and he felt stupid for having forgotten it and trying to make you become cold like him. And if one of those difficult days he didn't have time to dedicate to you due to his work, he would head towards the door of your room as always. Before leaving, however, he would turn towards you and give you a kind and almost imperceptible smile, to let you know that he had noticed your mood. That simple gesture, would be his way of telling you that, even if he had to leave, you were never alone. So, despite not knowing how to help you directly, he would have chosen to be your refuge, accepting every part of you without any judgement, because for him your strength was precisely that ability to be authentic even in your insecurities.
Celegorm: Come on guys, feeling insecure with Celegorm would be the order of the day. His reputation as a "Don Juan" is known throughout the territory and before starting a courtship with you he used to conquer and deceive many women of all races; consequently his romantic experiences were numerous and very different form each other. You knew very well that he had never been as serious with anyone as he was with you, but you still felt you had some shortcomings, both on an aesthetic level and in… skills. You often found yourself spending whole nights thinking about how many adventures your loved one had been through and how he must have been with someone more beautiful than you, bursting into tears and thinking about how you could improve yourself. To make matters worse, Celegorm received advances when you were in public. Even though your engagement was official, there were quite a few women who didn't care and, driven by pure and blind selfishness, showed off their every talent to the blond elf to attract his attention, even when you were at his side. The nature of the son of Feanor, however, was the same: he loved to be worshiped, to see women writhing with the desire to be possessed by him, so he rarely turned around and pretended nothing had happened. Until… One day it was too much for you... you were walking through the market when a beautiful elf approached and started hitting on the blond, completely ignoring you. With winking glances and seductive words, he did everything to attract his attention and Celegorm, as usual, responded with a pleased smile and amused by the situation. At one point, the elf turned to you, with a contemptuous sneer: "You should dump an insecure crybaby like her. She cries because she knows she's not good enough for you." Celegorm didn't immediately notice your tears, but when he turned and saw your face marked by pain, he was surprised. You ran away, unable to hold back your tears. You had never allowed yourself to cry in front of him, you didn't want him to consider you weak or even see you as one of those girls who complained about everything, so you had always swallowed and moved on. This time, however, you had collapsed... hearing another woman who should only support you and give you strength to create self-confidence, demean you in that way had destroyed you. Celegorm followed you, but it took a while for him to reach you due to the crowd. "Why did you run away?" he asked, still unaware of his behavior. With a tearful voice, you explained to him how inadequate you felt and how his interactions with other women made you feel small. Those words hit Celegorm like an arrow. For the first time, he realized that he was losing you because of his pride. It was on that occasion that he confided in you the reason why he had chosen you among all the women he could have had: "I chose you because you are the only one who sees beyond my name and my lineage. You are the only one who has had the courage to love me for who I really am and not for being the son of a king... Without you, everything else has no value.”
Argon: Being very young as an elf, it is very likely that you were his first acquaintance. It wasn't common among elves to have many serious partners in their lifetime, but that didn't stop some of them from having fun and gaining experience if they wanted to. However, Argon's introverted and apathetic character worked in your favor, ensuring that you had a serious and reliable person at your side. However, the same thing could not be said regarding the compatibility of your characters. Compared to him (not that it needed much), you were much more sociable, and you tried to express your emotions as often as possible to make others understand who you were. This aspect, combined with Argon's lack of relational experience, created quite a few communication problems between you. Situations where you, due to your personal insecurities, were sad or even burst into tears were very common; you felt incomplete, inferior, as if what you were wasn't enough to make you worthy of being among other people, and whenever this happened, Argon was really in difficulty, he didn't know how to treat you! His brother Fingon advised him to do something concrete towards you and not to behave in a distant way as he had always done in the family, to get closer to you and do something to make you stop suffering, but this was in strong contrast with the nature of Argon. He was afraid of being intrusive if he got closer, but at the same time he didn't want to seem indifferent to your pain. For this reason his reactions were often antithetical to the previous ones: once he tried to take your hand, another time he improvised an unsuccessful motivational speech, another time he even retrieved a bouquet of withered flowers from the field near the castle. However, over time, Argon began to understand that he didn't need perfect words or elaborate gestures to make you feel loved. All those deeds had one lack in common, namely presence; although the dark-haired man's gestures were designed to make you feel loved, there was a lack of involvement, there was a lack of desire on his part to understand what the pain was and the mistake of just trying to make you feel better without solving it. He realized that sometimes the best thing he could do was simply be there. Even as uncertainty gripped him, he learned to sit beside you in silence, offering his presence to you as an anchor of tranquility amid the storm of your emotions. Gradually, Argon understood that, although he was different from you, he could be a valuable support precisely because his calm and measured approach were a reassuring contrast to your emotionality.
Beleg: Beleg is a very patient and persevering elf, a skilled hunter who knows the wild nature and depths of the forests. This close contact with an extremely chaotic and changing world allowed him to cultivate a great gift: listening. In fact, unlike many other warrior elves, he has a more empathetic and caring soul, and it is precisely this that would make him particularly sensitive to your insecurities. When Beleg would notice your moments of insecurity, he would never try to force a solution or downplay your feelings. He would never be abrupt or hasty; rather than directly telling you what to do or how to feel, he would sit next to you, listening carefully and without interrupting, allowing you to vent without judgment. He won't try to tell you that you're wrong or that you should feel differently; instead, he will tell you stories of the forest, of how even the tallest and strongest trees were once fragile and uncertain sprouts, and how they had to face storms and hardships to become what they are now. Through these stories, he would help yourself to see these challenges in a different light, as part of your growth and your journey, making you understand that your strength also lies in your ability to face difficulty. Beleg would always find little ways to make you smile or distract you. He might take you into the woods, show you a hidden path, or teach you how to shoot with a bow, telling you how important it is to be patient with yourself, just like when learning to draw an arrow. You need to analyze the wind, what will be its direction, the force with which to shoot it, any obstacles and many other aspects. It's not easy to learn, it takes time, and the same goes for your difficulties. It would be paradoxical to already know how to deal with a problem (otherwise it wouldn't be called that), and it hurt him to see how much you blamed yourself for not being able to be as you would like. This is why he very often tried to include them in your life like something normal. He wouldn't do it to push you to be stronger, but to make you understand that you shouldn't get down like that, because you have plenty of time to find your way.
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felagund-the-valiant · 1 year ago
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Masterlist
Argon
Big Hands and Tiny Paws - 578 words - tags: gn!reader, fluff
Beleg
In All Shapes and Sizes - 612 words - tags: gn!reader, fluff
Caranthir
SFW Alphabet
Curufin
Your Father's Son - 1.3k words - tags: gn!reader, Curufin has a bit of an identity crisis, fluff Broken Bonds - 1.4k words - tags: f!reader, hurt/no comfort
Fingon
All I Want Is You - 1.1k words - tags: gn!reader, best friends to lovers, first kiss Office Shenanigans (NSFW) - 1.5k words - tags: f!reader, smut, semi-public sex A Heavy Crown - 992 words - tags: f!reader, hurt/comfort, mention of canon character death SFW Alphabet Drunk On Love - 1.2k words - tags: gn!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, fluff
Finrod
Birthday Delights - 712 words - tags: gn!reader, fluff, mild nsfw mentions/suggestive content Bring Back What Once Was Mine - 1k words - tags: gn!reader, mix of fluff and angst, mention of canon character death
Galdor
General hcs Procrastination Troubles - 1.1k words - tags: f!reader, fluff, unintentional secret dating, sibling's best friend trope
Glorfindel
Having a crush on a reader who's friends with Ecthelion
Maeglin
Lessons in Intimacy (NSFW) - 2.1k words - tags: f!reader, smut, first time
Group hcs
Hobbies they like to share with you (Maedhros, Caranthir, Fingon, Turgon) Hair hcs for the House of Fëanor | Fingolfin | Finarfin
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animatorweirdo · 2 years ago
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Imagine Beleg comforting you
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(I wanted to write this for @doodle-pops 's underrated character event. This was the best I got in the comfort section because I had only angsty ideas after reading The Children Of Hurin. It was a real rollercoaster that one. )
Warnings: getting lost, a bit of family angst, comfort.
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- It was by strange luck you had somehow managed to get through Melian’s girdle and get lost in the woods of Doriath. You didn’t even realize you had passed something magical. You just walked deeper into the woods and then realized you were terribly lost as the forest only seemed to continue and continue. 
- You nearly got desperate trying to find your way out, especially when the night was coming and creatures of the night were awaking. Nothing good ever came at night, but luckily, you were found by Beleg, one of Doriath’s march wardens. 
- He was surprised after finding you inside his kin’s woods without even them noticing you, but he was no less willing to help you, especially after learning you were only trying to find some herbs and got lost. 
- Beleg was rather easygoing and helpful, nothing you imagined an elven march warden to be, but you were grateful and seemed to click immediately, conversing about things and making funny jokes. He helped you find the herbs you needed before escorting you back to the borders back to your hometown. 
- You grew to like his company and didn’t want it to be a one-time encounter. You hoped to see him again, but since he likely had better things to do, you kept quiet and thanked him for his help before bidding farewell when it was time for you to return home before your family got worried.
- A few days passed, and you arrived at your usual spot where you liked to read in peace without your family bothering you. You enjoyed listening to the sounds of nature, and your spot offered a nice view of the surroundings. 
- You had nearly forgotten the incident inside Doriath’s borders but you still missed Beleg and his calming presence. The thought of purposely getting lost again just to see him crossed your mind, but you didn’t want to bother him and possibly make him annoyed with you. It was perhaps better just to forget the elf and move on with your life. 
- Well, you didn’t have to think about it too long– because after reading a few pages of your book. You were startled by someone commenting on the story and leaning against the tree right beside you, and that certain someone was Beleg himself. 
- His appearance confused you, and the elf was only amused by your surprised reaction. 
- Beleg told you he came to check if you had gotten lost again and then found you reading and decided to join in. You were happy to see him and slightly offended by his remark. You were not that bad in directions. 
- He complimented your taste in stories because he enjoyed reading the book with you, and then strangely, you just started spending time from there, talking and reading books you sometimes brought with you. 
- He was fun company, and you enjoyed listening to the stories about his kin and the forest he lived in. Menegroth and its forest sounded magical. You nearly wished to see it one day. 
- He sometimes even brought books you might enjoy in the common language since you were not familiar with his people’s language. 
- His free-spirited nature was so infectious that you sometimes wandered through the woods with him, discovering plants and animals you had not seen before. You began to enjoy his company more every day, and he gave good advice when times seemed rough and you felt down. 
- You valued the friendship you shared with him, and honestly speaking, you don’t think you have ever felt so heard and valued by anyone else, not even with your family. You love them, but sometimes it feels like they brush you off more and leave your feelings invalid whenever an argument is born. 
- Like this incident. You did not want to bother Beleg with your familial drama, but you were feeling so down after the argument with your family that you needed someone else’s company, so you wandered to your usual meeting spot and found him there. 
—------
“Morning, (Name)! How are you feeling on this wonderful morning?” Beleg greeted with that usual grin of his. You nearly felt better, but the heavy thoughts in your mind only made you utter a greeting in return as you stopped beside the tree. 
Beleg seemed to sense something was going on as his grin dropped, and he looked at you with concern. “(Name)? Is everything alright? You seem… like you have a dark cloud over your head,” he questioned. 
You unintentionally choked and released a tear. “Sorry! It’s just…” You dried off the tear and tried to control yourself. “... I’m just having a bad day,” 
“Well, it seems it's more than just a bad day,” Beleg uttered as he carefully observed you and your body language. He was now more concerned and could sense you were holding in deep emotions and not the good kind. “Tell me, my friend. What happened? Did something terrible happen to you or anyone you know?” he asked as he gently laid his hand on your back. 
You struggled to hold in your tears, but they forcefully came out, and choked gasps escaped your mouth. “No! It’s… “You rubbed your eyes, but they still watered with painful hot tears. “I had an argument with my family, and nothing good was said,” you confessed. “I feel so empty… and like – nothing I do matters,” Beleg’s eyes dropped with sympathy as he comfortably rubbed your back. 
“I don’t believe that. You had done quite a lot of things that mattered,” Beleg said. “It doesn’t really feel like it, especially to my family,” you said. 
Beleg was quiet for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and bringing you in a gentle hug. You were surprised for a moment before wrapping your arms around him and weeping out all the tears you tried to hold in. Beleg gently stroked your hair as you cried against his chest, nearly feeling his own tears form in his eyes. 
“It’s okay to cry for not all tears are evil,” he said as he continued stroking your hair. “What you might not see in yourself, others see in you. You do matter. To others and to me…” he held you as you two stood beneath the tree.
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lovefairymina · 2 years ago
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Beleg, my love, could you teach me how to listen to the trees? I want to listen to their songs as you do :)
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“Come,” he beckoned as he took your hand and sat you between his legs. “Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths…clear your mind,” he commanded. His voice hovered like a careful whisper in the background, tender and patient. “Do not worry if you don't get it on the first try; practice makes improvements.”
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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year ago
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Lovely M! I feel so out of touch with the Tolkien fandom recently D;
Would you be willing to write The Christmas Morning Breakfast with Beleg or Galdor please? I need some sweetness this holiday season and I love your writing!
I am fine with your strongest lemon if you decide to go that path<3 Thank you in advance!
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Pairing: Modern! Beleg x Fem. Reader (second person POV)
Themes: Soft | Smut
Warnings: Kissing | Penetrative sex | Rough sex | Dirty talk | Orgasm denial | Cream pie
Word count: 1.3K words
Summary: A game of chase ensues while Beleg tries to prepare brunch on Christmas morning
Rating: 🔥🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.
Divider by @estrelinha-s
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Beleg set the wooden spoon he was holding down on the breakfast counter and sighed the way a father might after catching their child racing towards the house, all covered in mud. “My love, the blueberries are supposed to go into the pancake batter instead of your mouth. And the whipped cream is supposed to go on them after they’ve finished, not into that bowl you’re holding.”
You flashed a wicked smile at him. “Can I be blamed for waking up with a yen for berries and cream?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s Christmas morning!”
“Precisely. It’s Christmas morning.” Beleg removed the can of whipping cream out of your hands and placed it on a shelf far out of your reach. He laughed when you narrowed your eyes to thin slats and glared at him. “And we have guests coming by for brunch. Do you really want to serve them plain pancakes with neither berries nor toppings?”
“Yes. No. Please, Beleg, please,” you whine shamelessly. “Just a little more. Please.”
“I said no,” he replied firmly, but not unkindly. Then he reached for the box of blueberries by your side. “Now let me have the rest of those. Please.”
You snatched it before he could and leaped out of your stool. “You’ll have to catch me first!”
Beleg chuckled breathlessly, giving you all of ten seconds before he chased after you. “You will regret this, my love!” he cried.
“I doubt it!” You shouted back and raced out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Your heart pounded with exhilaration when you turned to your right and hid in the first room that caught your attention. Too late did you realize that it was Beleg’s office, and that Beleg had the nose of a bloodhound. You stopped and sniffed the air. Your perfume easily stood out against the orange beeswax polish used on the furniture.
Damn it, you think to yourself. If I can smell my perfume, he can too. He’ll know I’m in here. And I can’t get out either. I’ll run straight into him.
There was little else you could do but hide behind his desk and hope that he did not set foot inside this room. The first five minutes flew by, and you saw neither hide nor hair of him. You turned to look at the wall-mounted clock, and you kept looking at it. Five minutes became seven, and seven turned to ten. Ten minutes came and went, and Beleg was nowhere to be seen. Thinking he had gone back to the kitchen to cook, you scurried away from the table, thoroughly pleased with yourself. That feeling of triumph lasted only for a few seconds, for a powerful pair of arms went around as soon as you rose to your feet.
“There you are!” Beleg hooted when you squealed and squirmed in his arms.
“Beleg!” You gasped between giggles. “How did you get in here without making a sound?”
“I am a hunter, my love,” he growled in your ear. “Moving without making a sound is what I excel at. That and I took great care when finishing that door and the floors of this room. Sound does not carry in here. Now. You gave me a bit of a chase instead of helping me prepare brunch. I think you should be punished for it.”
Heat bloomed and surged just beneath your skin. Beleg was going to punish you, he said. How exactly was he going to punish you? It was something you craved to find out for yourself.
“Are you going to bend me over the desk and spank me?” You tease and lift your chin, your eyes ablaze with wicked humor. “Then admonish me and call me all sorts of colorful things for making you chase me around the house instead of helping you cook?”
A dare, one that he would have entertained had he had enough time for it. “Not now,” he told you, and he sat you down on the edge of the table. Then he took the box of berries out of your hands and placed it on the side. “Our guests are going to be here in an hour, and I do not have the time for it. I certainly do not have time to reward bad girls and their bratty behavior.”
“Oh, so I am a brat now?” Beleg undid his belt and took your hands. The leather was warm against your wrists when he bound them, but it was loose enough for you to move your hands without the edges cutting into your skin. “How big of a brat am I?”
Beleg did not answer you. He kissed you instead, spreading your thighs apart with his hands and pulling your skirt up to your waist. Adrenaline from the chase gave way to dark and heady lust, and he kissed and kissed and kissed, his mouth feasting on yours even as his hand slipped up your leg and came to rest between the apex of your thighs. There was a ripping sound. Your underwear came apart easily with a single yank of his hand.
So sweet, he thought to himself. I can still taste the blueberries and cream on her lips.
He feasted like one that was half-starved, kissing you until you were breathless, and until you shook violently beneath him. His skillful fingers slipped over, and then slid inside, the glorious heat of your body. His welcomed intrusion jolted you, and sent electrifying shocks pulsing up your spine. Moan after moan poured into his mouth, and plea after wanton plea asked for the same thing.
More.
“Not now.” Beleg drew back and unzipped his jeans. He tugged both it and his boxers down just low enough to free his cock. “And not for you.”
You gaped at him, unable to believe what you were hearing. No more for you? What did he mean by that? Beleg hushed any protest you would have uttered with a single look of warning.
“Good girl,” he remarked, and he kissed you again. He did not give you time to think, so desperate was he to lose himself in your flesh. He pushed himself inside of you, groaning deeply against your throat as he did so. He was so big. Gloriously, wonderfully big. You wished you could clutch at his back while he drove himself so relentlessly into you. However, you made yourself content with the feeling of him pressing hard against you, his arm vise-like around your waist, and his free hand gripping tight on your hip. Beleg took all that you could offer him without mercy.
“You are not to finish,” he commanded. “I will take care of you later, but until then, you cannot finish. Is that understood?”
He silenced more protests with yet another look of warning. And you knew better than to protest. Beleg would deny you and tease you for days on end if you did so.
“Yes,” you voice your acceptance. Beleg moaned softly and whispered your name. That thrilled you greatly—how he uttered your name with reverence. “I agree.”
He shook and gripped your hip harder. Beleg plunged deeper and harder and faster until the room had begun to spin in his eyes. Then you urged him to finish, and clamped your legs around his waist. It undid him completely. He fell apart with a silent cry, his teeth nipping at your shoulder while he shivered and emptied himself inside of you. He kept holding you to him, his chest heaving from the effort. Another minute or two passed in blissful silence before Beleg slid out of you and loosened the belt around your wrist.
“Let’s go get ourselves cleaned up quickly,” he said, and he picked up the ruins of your underwear from the floor. “I’ll make you a special Christmas morning breakfast as a treat, and then make you come after the others have left, but you must behave and help me first.”
“Yes, sir,” you replied eagerly, and you saluted him. Beleg grinned and led you out of his office.
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Tags: @asianbutnotjapanese @stormchaser819
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lovelylovebug · 1 year ago
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Rules
♡ nsfw and sfw (but nothing "questionable" like e.g. non-con, pedophilia, violence ...)
♡ stay friendly
♡ asks are welcome too, but please direct them to my other blog @elficially-done-with-life
♡ sometimes I won't answer right away, sometimes I will. It depends on how much time I have
♡ only Interactions, if you have fic requests I would be glad if you send those to my blog @elficially-done-with-life
♡ also, only Interactions between reader and characters (both platonic and romantic is allowed)... no character x character
♡ no rings of power characters (because I haven't seen the show yet and won't be able to portrait them right)
♡ Characters:
Valar:
Yavanna, Oromë, Melkor, Nienna
Noldor:
Fëanor, Nerdanel, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, Amras, Celebrimbor, Gil-Galad, Aredhel, Maeglin, Eärendil, Idril, Elenwë, Fingolfin, Finarfin, Lalwen, Findis, Indis, Míriel, Anairë, Earwen, Finrod, Argon, Celebrían, Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, Arwen, Finduilas
Sindar:
Luthien, Beleg, Nellas, Elwing
Other Elves:
Glorfindel, Erestor, Rog, Egalmoth, Haldir
Dwarves:
Thorin, Bofur, Kili, Fili
Humans:
Eowyn, Faramir, Boromir, Haleth
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vibratingskull · 1 year ago
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Incorruptible
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Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29
Tags : Angst/hurt/comfort, trial, reader is disabled
Nather's trial starts and you're on the witness bench. May justice be in your favor.
FemaleReader x Thrawn
You’re completely and utterly
disgusted.
You’re sitting in silence on the witness bench of the trial, seething as the time goes by. If you needed another proof that Nather was influential you had a whole display today.
Confined at residence.
That’s all.
You look at him in disbelief, comfortably seated in the dock, fanning himself with a satisfied smile, he looks like he’s enjoying himself. A single scar across his cheek is the only proof he got a bit shaked by the interrogators. You dig your nails in the fabric of your pants, fixed on him. Saying that you want to throw your fist in his jaw is an understatement. The media renamed him the butcher of Tyrahn, which appears to amuse him tremendously. 
The church pushed back, lamenting that they didn't know about the situation on Tyrahnn, that such conduct was against all they stand for, that it was an heresy. The Beleg was quickly covered by the community and cleared by trial. Maybe the church as a whole was not a fuckfest of degenerates but each member of Nather's little playground is also a church member. At the start of the trial, the population was outraged and the backlash against the church was huge, in return it started its own defense movement. A lot of families and members left the cult either to create a fresh new church or to cut ties definitively. Other stayed and tried to salvage the honor of the church, denouncing the acts of Nather and his inner circle. In some weird way it actually strengthened the bond between the members, and they started huge protests to defend their faith.
Concerning yourself, this faith is dead. 
You're a witness in this trial, not a victim. You quickly understand via Tarkin's agents that the trial would be about the damages he has done to the Empire as a whole and not to his victims, his "collaterals" as they called you. And despite that, he just lost his position and is consigned to residence, which basically means vacation under the sun for him. Oh, all the other members of this traffic are punished, the mere underlings will be sent to prisons like Narkina 5, but the instigators just got a slap on the hand, protected by Nather Satlove. Your only hope is that the lawyers of the plaintiff are not happy about it and will surely appeal that judgment. 
But for now you're sickened by the verdict, you feel it down your stomach, the inner turmoil bubbling under the surface ready to spill out. You're so angered you feel a cold sweat down your spine. You wipe your forehead with the back of your head when you feel a burning gaze on your neck. You turn back to see Thrawn looking at you with an inquisitive stare. He exposed his testimony in an earlier session some days ago, as you did. It was clear and concise, exposing the fact of the matter, but even a grand admiral testimony was not enough to bring Nather's down, and you had the disagreeable impression it's because Thrawn is an alien. Not only that, the lawyers tried to remove his credibility by bringing his gestion of the attack, that he recklessly threw his troops against Nather's, creating a massacre. You have full trust in Thrawn's strategic abilities and know this to be untrue and grotesque, but the judges don't know him like you do and are sensible to suggestions. Nather's lawyers attacked him on his supposed attempts to raze the city to the ground for a "lowly Lieutenant Commander" much to Thrawn's confusion, he didn't understand the political repercussions this could have and the political trap he just stepped into. For an awfully long moment it became Thrawn's trial until the judge put the court back in order. 
But the Empire is supposed to bring peace and justice, surely it can't contempt itself with such condamnation.
Surely it can't… 
But for now you're witnessing this joke under your eyes, and you're not sure you can take much more of it. 
You silently rise from your seat and squeeze yourself between the different witnesses to get out. You feel two pairs of eyes on you as you discreetly exit the room. 
You walk as quick as you can with your crutches in the prestigious corridors of the courthouse and end up in some sort of square edged by some well maintained bushes. Each of your steps is echoed by the sound of your new metal legs against the stone. You're out of breath, at the end of yourself. You want to scream, to break something, anything to expunge your frustration, this injustice. You sit down on a bench, trying to get back control over yourself but the ire is so strong, it is unbearable. People avoid your bench as your aura is so bitter and dark, or because of your murderous stare. You’re so tired, you want to bury your head under pillows and not wake up for several days. You want to be left alone.
You're squirming and agitating yourself when a hand grabs yours. You spin on yourself, ready to give whoever this is a piece of your mind when you stop dead in your tracks. 
“Thrawn… “
“Why did you leave?” He asks softly. 
You sigh
“Because I couldn't take it anymore, it was too much. Seeing him with his dumb happy smile plastered on his face like that… I couldn't.” 
You feel tears rising. 
“What will I say to Vez? To his family? ‘Sorry, the man who destroyed your lives will live drinking cocktails under the sun ?’“
You fully broke sobbing at this thought and Thrawn embraces you in his reassuring arms. You snuggle yourself against his chest, hugging him back. He caresses the back of your head and the low of your back, cradling you gently. 
“Oh maker, what will I say… “
“The truth, you will say the truth. You owe him that.” He murmurs. 
You cry as you never cried, wetting his elegant trench coat. You ugly cry loudly with no regard for the people starting to leave the law court. You earn some strange gaze from them but you can't care less. 
You hear numerous steps speeding in your direction then suddenly you're blinded by flashes and mics being pushed at your mouth. 
“You're one of the victims of the butcher of Tyrahn ? What are your sentiments on the verdict ?!”
“Do you think the plaintiff should appeal !?” 
“Miss, what can you tell us-”
You yelp and bury your head in Thrawn's neck, trying to protect yourself from the vultures. 
“Miss ! Please just one word !” 
“Enough!” Thrawn shouts “Get out of the way.” 
He pulls you forward, away from the deranged crowd of journalists when some more deliberately put themself in front of you. 
“Miss, just a word on the verdict: do you feel like you and the other witnesses still at the hospital have been heard ?” 
“Move. Out. Of. The. Way.” Thrawn speaks slowly, almost softly but with an icy cold tone sending shivers down even your spine. And his eyes… 
The journalists are taken aback, and even scared. All the flashes stop and they reluctantly move out of the way silently under Thrawn's flaming gaze. Only a faint strangled murmur crosses the group. With an arm around your shoulders, Thrawn guides you to the car, promptly takes off the ground and speedly flies away. 
You let your head against the window with tears rolling down your cheek, eyes roaming aimlessly in the void. 
You sigh. 
“Is it what am I fighting for ? A half baked justice with two speeds ?” 
“If it can reassure you, the plaintiff will most probably appeal that jugement. I had a quick discussion with Tarkin a moment ago and he is dissatisfied with the verdict.”
You have a little snarky snarl. Tarkin vs Satlove, the combat promises to be epic. But it could sign the downfall of Nather, for real this time. You don't want to get let down once again but you can't stifle that little spark of hope. 
You let your head bounces against the window as you silently fly to Thrawn's apartment. It is full of your boxes waiting to be open to finish your installation. You push one out of your way with your foot passively angry. You fall face first on the couch with a sigh, letting your crutches fall on the floor. You curl over yourself, hugging yourself. You hear Thrawn doing things behind your back, respecting your pain by not talking, letting you and your reflections alone.
It was early in the evening but you must have fallen asleep because the next time you open your eyes the sun is high, you find a fuming cup of caff on the tea table beside you and a plaid has been laid over you. You observe the closed door of the bedroom, Thrawn must be working at this hour…
You just take the cup and pray for a fresh start as you sip on the drink.
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@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo
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doodle-pops · 2 months ago
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Dating Someone Younger Than Them
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☾ Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Turgon, Finarfin, Beleg, Gwindor
☾ A/N: Been wanting to write a version for the Silm after I did one for Bleach. It was just perfect for our elves considering they’re ancient lol.
☾ Synopsis: When their mortal love calls them ‘old man’ and other ancient terms of endearment.
Masterlist | Navigation
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︶꒦꒷Maedhros꒷꒦︶
➽ The first time you called him an old man, he just gave you a long, unimpressed stare, as if weighing whether it was even worth his time to respond. Then he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I have lived through the ruin of kingdoms, the fall of civilisations, and the wrath of Morgoth himself, and yet this is what finally tests my patience.”
➽ It became a game after that. You would drop an ‘old man’ comment in the middle of a conversation, and he would try to act as if he hadn’t heard it. The twitch in his jaw always gave him away.
➽ He never fully humours it, but he doesn’t ignore it either. If you push too far, he’ll turn it around with some impossibly poetic insult about your youth. “For one so new to this world, you have a remarkable talent for being insufferable.”
➽ If you ever say it in front of his brothers or anyone else, he will immediately deny you. “This is slander. I am not old.” Then he turns to the unfortunate bystander. “Do I look old?” If they hesitate for even a second, he’s going to be even more annoyed.
➽ He could handle the name-calling when it was just the two of you, but when you casually threw out a “Move faster, ancient one” in front of Elrond, Maedhros genuinely looked like he wanted to walk into a volcano all over again.
➽ When he’s deep in thought or strategising, you like to sit beside him and start listing the benefits of being old. “Wisdom, experience, a nice slow pace—” “I am not slow.” “Your reflexes might not be what they used to be.” “You’re welcome to test that theory, though I doubt you’d survive the lesson.”
➽ He tries to get back at you by calling you ‘child,’ but it never has the same sting because it’s factually correct. “Oh, what’s that, grandpa? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your joints creaking.” He looks like he’s regretting every life decision that led him to this moment.
➽ One day you asked him if he needed a walking stick, just to see his reaction. He didn’t even blink. “Perhaps I do. I can use it to beat you with.”
➽ He refuses to admit it, but he finds your antics mildly entertaining. It’s a welcome distraction from the heavy burden he always carries. If he didn’t enjoy your company, he wouldn’t tolerate you at all.
➽ There was one occasion when you woke up with a sore back from sleeping in an awkward position. The second you so much as winced, he was on you like a vulture. “What’s this? Ailing already? I thought only old men suffered from such things.”
➽ He once caught you whispering to one of the horses about “taking extra care of the old man,” and you have never known true fear until you turned and saw the way he was watching you from the doorway.
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︶꒦꒷Fingon꒷꒦︶
➽ He takes it with absolute grace. The first time you called him an old man, he just burst out laughing. “Oh, is that how you see me? I’ll have you know, I am in my prime!”
➽ If anything, he started playing into it more than you did. You accused him of being old, so he leaned fully into it. He started dramatically pretending to mishear you like some ancient relic. “What was that?” he would say, cupping a hand to his ear. “Speak up, my hearing isn’t what it used to be!”
➽ If you say it in public, he just rolls with it. If someone asks how old he is, he’ll sigh wistfully. “I lost count after the first thousand years. But it is a heavy burden to be so ancient.” He then promptly challenges someone to a footrace just to prove he’s still in perfect shape.
➽ The first time you called him ‘old man’ in front of Turgon, the sheer look of delight on his brother’s face was enough to make Fingon immediately declare, “Okay. I will not stand for this slander around my siblings.”
➽ He does this annoying thing where if you ever complain about something even remotely difficult, he pats your head and says, “Ah, you young folk. So fragile, so untested by time.” It makes you want to fight him.
➽ You once jokingly suggested getting him a cane, and he immediately turned it into a whole thing. “Ah, a cane! Lovely! Now I can whack you each time you refuse to be nice to your old man.” You realised too late that you had given him an actual idea.
➽ When introducing him to new people, you would say things like, “This is Fingon. He’s about ten thousand years old. Probably met a few dinosaurs in his youth.”
➽ “There were no dinosaurs,” he said one day, rubbing his temples. “You don’t know that,” you shot back. “You’re old enough that you might’ve forgotten.” He had to physically restrain himself from throwing something.
➽ You tried to call him ‘grandfather’ once, just to mess with him, and he whacked you with the cane before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. “Disrespectful children get carried off into the mountains, did you know?” He had you hanging there for a good five minutes before he let you down.
➽ He does have moments where he flips it on you. If you ever struggle with something, he’ll just fold his arms and shake his head. “Tsk, tsk. You youngsters, no stamina at all.” Then he walks off whistling, leaving you to yell after him.
➽ He keeps an actual tally of how many times you’ve called him old. Every time you say it, he smirks and says, “Ah, that’s another one. I believe we’re at…oh, at least a hundred now, and it’s only been a day.”
➽ Despite everything, he wouldn’t have it any other way. If anyone else had dared to mock him like this, he would have thrown hands. But you? You made eternity a little less lonely.
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︶꒦꒷Turgon꒷꒦︶
➽ He is absolutely scandalised the first time you call him an old man. He stares at you as if you’ve just insulted his entire lineage. “Old? Old?” You’ve broken his brain.
➽ He cannot believe you would say such a thing to him. “I am in my prime!” He spends the next five minutes going over how elves don’t age like mortals. You nod along, taking none of it seriously.
➽ If you ever say it in court or around his people, he’ll pretend he didn’t hear you. If someone else reacts, he immediately dismisses it. “Do not humour them. They are young and foolish.”
➽ He’s far too serious about it. If you keep teasing him, he will launch into a lecture about the differences between elves and mortals, as if he genuinely thinks you might not understand. “Age, as you perceive it, does not apply to me in the same manner—” “Yes, yes, that’s what all old people say.” He looks like he wants to strangle you.
➽ You tried to give him a ‘wise old sage’ persona once, asking for ‘the wisdom of the ancients.’ He was not amused. “If you wish for my wisdom, then cease your foolishness.”
➽ He does get his revenge, though. If you ever ask for his help with anything, he tilts his head and says, “Ah, but I am an old man. Surely you would not ask such a burden of me?” Then he watches as you regret everything.
➽ He tries to turn it on you by calling you ‘child’ but ends up making himself sound even older. “You are but a mere infant in the grand scheme of things.” “Alright, grandfather.” He clenches his fists.
➽ You’ve tried to get others in on it, but most of his people are too respectful to join. Idril, however, betrayed him once by smirking and saying, “Well, you are older than the moon.” He was horrified.
➽ Still, you were insufferable about it when the mood was light. The time he hesitated for just a second before kneeling and you went, “Careful, old man, don’t throw out your back,” had him seriously considering revenge.
➽ You once dramatically gasped and pointed to a grey hair (it wasn’t grey, it was just the light hitting his hair in a certain way). He immediately went to check a mirror. You laughed for five minutes.
➽ If you ever try to help him stand up as if he’s frail, he will walk away without acknowledging you. But if you trip, he’s the first to say, “Ah, how clumsy youth can be.” You hate that he’s learning.
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︶꒦꒷Finarfin꒷꒦︶
➽ He takes it with the patience of someone who has raised multiple hot-headed children and lived through millennia of nonsense. The first time you called him an old man, he just gave you a very calm look, folded his hands, and said, “Ah, so this is how we’re speaking to our elders now.”
➽ Every time he started waxing poetic about the past, you’d lean in and whisper, “Tell me, old man, what was it like when the world was flat?” just to watch his expression twitch.
➽ He tries to be above it, but the more you push, the more you can see that tiny flicker of exasperation in his eyes. “I do not feel old,” he tells you one day after you make some comment about him needing rest. “Then why do you sigh like a man who has carried the weight of time itself?” He does not respond with an answer.
➽ If you ever say it in front of others, especially his courtiers, he just offers a serene smile and responds in that terrifyingly diplomatic tone: “Yes, I am indeed quite old, and with that comes the wisdom to know when to ignore a foolish remark.”
➽ You sometimes get him gifts with ‘Number 1 Grandfather’ written on it, which makes him mentally age. “Got this for you while I was at the art shop. They had this as a giveaway gift. Thought of you,” you say with a brilliant smile. He secretly uses that item when you’re not looking.
➽ He won’t openly challenge you, but he gets his revenge in subtle ways. If you ever need his help, he pauses for a long moment and hums as if in deep thought. “Ah, but you just said I was an old man…surely, you would not burden me further?” He only helps once you’ve suffered enough.
➽ You tried to make it worse by referring to him as ‘grandfather,’ thinking you’d finally get a real reaction. He only smiled and said, “Ah, then I expect you to act with the respect due to one’s grandsire.” You lost that round instantly.
➽ If you ever ask if he remembers something from thousands of years ago, he gives you an almost pitying look. “My dear, I was there when the Two Trees shone in all their glory. This event you speak of? It is recent history to me.” You can’t even argue.
➽ He once overheard you talking to a servant about how he was probably the type to grunt when sitting down. The next time he lowered himself into a chair, he made a point of doing it completely silently while staring directly at you.
➽ You once got overly confident and teased him about ‘his old man hands’ when he reached for something. He just slowly raised his eyebrows and then gestured for you to hand him a sword. “If you wish to test them, we may spar.” You swiftly remembered that he was, in fact, a Noldorin warrior.
➽ When he catches you struggling with something, like carrying too many things at once, he doesn’t say a word. He just watches, waiting for the inevitable. When you drop something, he finally hums. “Ah, youth. So full of energy, yet so lacking in foresight.”
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︶꒦꒷Beleg꒷꒦︶
➽ The first time you called him an old man, he just stared at you for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Old? Me? My dear, I can still outrun and outfight you before breakfast.” And he proves it, too.
➽ He is the absolute worst about it because he finds it hilarious. If you bring it up, he immediately goes into an exaggerated act of being ancient. “Ah, my weary bones, my tired limbs! The years have been so cruel to me!” He says this while effortlessly stringing his bow.
➽ If you ever suggest that he needs rest due to his ‘age,’ he takes it as a personal challenge. “Oh? Do I seem tired to you?” And then he drags you on a full-day hunt through the wilds, moving like an unstoppable force while you suffer.
➽ He gets back at you by constantly referring to himself as a ‘wise elder’ and you as an ‘inexperienced youth.’ If you struggle with something, he leans against a tree and sighs. “Ah, I remember my younger days, when I too was reckless and foolish.
➽ Sometimes, it backfires like when you’re hunting together and request that he assist or carry you. “You would not make such a request of your elderly? I am but a fragile old man—weary are my bones. You, my dear, should carry me instead.”
➽ You tried to get Túrin in on it once, but the clueless man actually believed you and started treating Beleg with exaggerated concern. Beleg had to sit him down and explain that no, he was not, in fact, on the brink of death.
➽ He once let you tie a ‘wise old sage’ beard onto his face just for fun. He wore it for exactly ten minutes before it got in the way of shooting an arrow.
➽ His patience was legendary, but you had a way of testing it in ways no one else could. Like when he was lost in thought, you would ruin the moment by poking his cheek and saying, “Careful, old man, if you frown any harder, your wrinkles might become permanent.”
➽ If you ever call him old in front of other elves, he leans into it. “Yes, indeed, I am ancient,” he says dramatically. “I have seen centuries of battle, and yet I still find myself suffering through this torment.” He gestures at you with exaggerated despair.
➽ He once saw you rubbing your shoulder after a long day and immediately smirked. “Oh, what’s this? Are you aching? How terrible! I thought only old men suffered such things.” He enjoys payback too much.
➽ You tried to call him ‘fossil’ once, thinking you could win the game. He immediately scooped you up and ran at full speed through the trees until you begged for mercy.
➽ He never lets you forget that, compared to him, you are essentially a newborn. “I remember when you were not even a thought in the world,” he tells you cheerfully.” Meanwhile, I was already legendary.” You groan.
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︶꒦꒷Gwindor (Pre-Angbang)꒷꒦︶
➽ He reacts like you’ve just struck him with an arrow the first time you say it. “Old? Old?” He looks personally betrayed.
➽ He immediately tries to defend himself. “I am hardly old! If anything, I am in the prime of my years!” You nod solemnly. “Yes, denial is common among the elderly.” He groans.
➽ He actually gets concerned the first time you say it. “Do I look old?” He immediately checks his reflection. If you don’t reassure him, he starts overthinking it.
➽ When he realises you’re just teasing him, he starts throwing it back at you in the most dramatic ways. If you ever complain about anything, he sighs. “Ah, such struggles of youth. You will understand in time.”
➽ He’s the type to get flustered if you say it in public. If someone overhears and laughs, he immediately tries to explain himself. “This is slander! I am not old!”
➽ He tried to retaliate once by calling you ‘youngling’ in the most patronising tone possible, but you just blinked at him and went, “So you admit it. You’re old. Practically dust. Thank you for your honesty.” He has never attempted it again.
➽ You once left a walking stick outside his tent as a joke. He picked it up, twirled it in his hands, and then used it to trip you. “Ah, it seems this old man still has some skill.” You regretted everything.
➽ He doesn’t take it too seriously, but there is one thing that gets to him: the reminder that time moves differently for you. “One day, you will be gone, and I will remain,” he says quietly one night. You feel a little bad, but then he sighs dramatically. “Then again, perhaps by then, I will be an old man.” He always finds a way to joke about it.
➽ He once caught you massaging your hands after writing for too long and immediately smirked. “Oh? Are your hands aching? Perhaps you, too, are ageing faster than you thought?” You wanted to throw something at him.
➽ If you ever try to claim he’s losing his edge, he challenges you to a duel on the spot. He fights with all the skill of a seasoned warrior and does not go easy on you. By the end of it, you’re the one exhausted, and he just grins. “It seems this old man still has some strength left.”
➽ He gets extra petty about it. If you ever ask him to carry something for you, he makes a show of pretending to struggle. “Oh, my weak, ancient limbs! Alas, I can barely hold such weight!” Then he immediately lifts it with ease.
➽ You tried to ‘help’ him up once when he was sitting on the ground. He just raised an eyebrow and yanked you down instead. “If I must suffer, so must you.”
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lamemaster · 1 year ago
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Elves with morosexual tendencies
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AN: Random af idea. Sorry Nerdanel but I cannot resist writng Feanor with this one.
Genre: Fluff
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Maedhros✋🏻:
Let's just say elder brother tendencies tend to carry on to other aspects of life. Specifically, when he sees you struggling with "deteriat" for the fifth time. Maedhros stifles a smile, the memory of your early love letters flashing in his mind.
He could still recall the scandalized heat that rose to his cheeks when one enthusiastic letter declared "coitus welcome" instead of "courteous welcome." Another endearing misspelling had him picturing you at court, charming dignitaries as a "courtesan" instead of a "courtier."
"Hey! It's not my fault that your world doesn't offer autocorrect," you mumble, your brow furrowed as you return your attention to the report – a rather dry document on trade routes that desperately needed a touch of your usual spark.
"My love, I am your autocorrect," Maedhros chuckles, his amusement evident as he plops down next to you. He reaches over, gently taking the parchment and circling the misspelled word. "It's 'deteriorate,'" he writes with a flourish, the familiar fondness warming his gaze as he watches you pout playfully.
🌲Beleg🌲:
He is no stranger to this special brand of humans. Turin Turumbar was a handful, but you... you were a different kind of chaos. Beleg blinked, taking in the scene before him. The door to your shared home lay in splinters on the floor, a gaping hole now marking the entrance.
"You did what?" he finally managed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and weary amusement. You stood there, a sheepish grin plastered on your face, your hands twisted together in a nervous knot.
"Listen!" you began, your voice taking on a frantic edge. "The door wouldn't open, and the baker was just leaving these incredibly heavy rolls, and I—"
"And you decided the best course of action was to batter it down?" Beleg interjected, his eyebrow raised. "Because apparently, pulling is a concept that eludes some humans."
"Well, it wouldn't budge!" you protested. "And I needed the rolls for lunch! Besides, I thought perhaps it was just slightly jammed."
Beleg sighed, shaking his head. Maybe living with a human wasn't such a bad idea after all. It certainly kept things interesting. He grabbed a nearby broom and gestured towards the splintered remains of the door.
🔥Feanor🔥:
"We cannot use flamethrowers to melt driveway snow," Feanor declared, his voice laced with a barely contained fury. A vein pulsed ominously in his temple, and his normally fiery eyes seemed to crackle with indignation.
You, however, remained undeterred. "Why not?" you countered, tilting your head in innocent curiosity. "It will get the job done quickly and efficiently."
"And burn the house down in the process?" Feanor retorted, his voice rising in disbelief. Had you truly lost all sense of reason?
"But Feanor," you persisted, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "think of the time we'll save! Plus, the dramatic exit the melted snow will make leading right down to the street? Unforgettable!"
Just then, a curtain twitched across the street, and a bewildered neighbor peeked out their window. "Is everything alright over there? We saw sparks!" they called out, their voice laced with concern.
"Oh nothing just my elf tweaking," you smile blindingly at the neighbor, completely oblivious to Feanor's growing sense of dread.
Feanor groaned, burying his face in his hands. He could picture the headlines already: "Couple Sets House Ablaze in Attempt to Melt Driveway Snow."
The sound of heavy boots stomping towards the front door did little to soothe his nerves. Curufin sauntered out, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and slung the coveted flamethrower over his shoulder with a dramatic flourish.
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batsyforyou · 1 year ago
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Of Elves and Men Part 16
Pairing: Beleg x reader
Warnings: I refer you to part 1
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You knelt beside the young boy, Húrin’s son Túrin, and grasped his hand. “Please, if I have earned your favor, fulfill my request.” 
The boy looked up at you and steeled himself, “Of course! What is it?” 
You smiled and passed a thick envelope into his hands. “If I don’t make it back, go to Doriath there you’ll find an elf named Beleg Strongbow, he is one of the march wardens there.”
Túrin seemed shocked, “An elf?” He asked. 
You melted wistfully looking up into the bright sky and bringing a hand to your heart. 
“He is my greatest love. And I haven’t had the time to meet with him the way I used to. I would oh, so love to see him again.” 
“Oh.” With both hands he examined the paper, “I haven’t seen an elf up close before, but I suspect that I will see them soon. What is he like?” 
“He’s perfect.” 
The trumpets called and you kissed Túrin’s head and parted ways.
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Beleg shook his head, his silver hair glittering in the moonlight as crickets chirped in his ears. He stood leaning against a strong oak tree, his arms crossed as he looked up at the sky. 
He felt . . . bereft and sad though he did not know why. 
He sighed. 
“Ah, at last I have found you.” 
At the rustling of bushes he turned to look, spying the eyes of Mablung. Frowning he did not greet his friend and merely looked back to the stars. 
“I had heard of your mood but did not believe it myself till now.” 
Mablung came and stood beside him and looked to see what had caught his attention. “What ails you, my friend?”
He sighed, long and heavy. “I am uncertain.” 
His friend raised a brow. “Does this have something to do with your human friends?” 
Beleg looked at him mournfully and Mablung cocked his head, curious. “Did something happen while you were there?” 
He nodded and pulled his gaze skyward again. “They confessed their love for me.” 
Mablung hummed. “Which one?” 
Beleg glared at him. 
His friend stepped back and raised his hands in defeat. “You have many human friends, I merely wish to know which one you speak of.” 
Beleg shrugged, it was a valid point. “Y/n.”
“Ah, I see.” 
Beleg shook his head. “We cannot be together. I can never grow old with them.” 
“But you wish to.”
Beleg hung his head low. “Is it so obvious?”  
“To some but not to others.” Mablung clasped his shoulder. “They cannot be with you forever.” 
Beleg raised his head to stare determinedly. “But I could be theirs.”
Mablung frowned. “Can you see yourself being able to live happily without them? Can you imagine life after their death?” 
Frowning, Beleg rested his head against the bark of the tree. “I can see a life with them being filled with happiness and laughter. Of possible children and tending to them in their old age. I can't see my life after their passing.” He snuffed the toe of his boot into the dirt. “I know that loving one whose life is so fleeting, in comparison to mine, is a dangerous choice but I can’t help but feel—” he gestured with a wave of his hand— “Empty? A great longing rests in me and I am afraid and enchanted by its pull.” 
Mablung crossed his arms. “In mortal marriages, they often say ‘till death do us apart.’ Is that something you would want or even withstand?” 
He smirked. “And after death, whether I withstand the grief or not. I believe I will see them again.” 
“You love them?”
Beleg took a moment to consider this, drawing his gaze to the stars again. “I would say I do.”
Mablung nodded. “I am sorry that you were called back before you could come upon this answer yourself.”
Beleg frowned, curious. “Why was I called back?” 
Mablung sighed and reached up with both hands to grab a tree branch and leaned his weight forward. “The King heard news of how Lord Húrin and the Noldor planned an attack against Morgoth. He did not want you caught up in it.” 
Shoving himself away from the tree he rushed to his friend's side. “But that is foolhardy! Did he not try to dissuade them?” 
Mablung shook his head. “I do not know.” 
Beleg swallowed tightly around the lump in his throat. 
“But what about Y/n?!” 
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Amidst the heart of the battle you fought alongside your men. The sounds of screaming, swords clashing angrily and the groans of the dying flooded your ears but you could not stop. 
A mighty roar came shaking the ground and sky and many stumbled off their feet, men and elves and orcs alike. 
Falling to your side you grunted with the impact, hard steel pressing into your ribs. Panting and shaking with adrenaline, you looked up and watched in horror as Fingon was snared by his enemy’s whip. 
“No!” You cried. “Fingon!” 
You tried pushing yourself to your feet but couldn’t manage it as another roar came and shook the earth. Gothmog raised his ax and you screamed and watched in horror as your friend's head toppled from his shoulders. 
Your ears rang and you were left in shock. Eyes trailing up the body of the fallen King and watched, sick, as red blood dripped from Gothmog’s black ax. Fiery red eyes meeting yours. 
Bjorn charged up to you and yanked you to your feet as the horns of the elves sounded. “My liege, the elves are pulling back!” 
Turning your face from the Barlog you listened as Lord Húrin rallied the troops and commanded that they cover the elves retreat and you knew—
You would all die here. 
Shouting to your men, you led them forward to join the line, your face stern and determined, as you listened to your Lord’s command.
“Do not show your enemy your fear! And if you die, I pray you take your enemy down with you! Aurë entuluva!” 
With a fearsome cry you all raised your swords and hunted the enemy down. In the rush you and Bjorn became separated and you were overwhelmed. Raising your shield you blocked a frontal attack but was struck in your side and groaned. Losing control of your limbs, you fell to the bloodied dirt and moaned in pain as you felt orcs trample you. Raising your tired eyes, you turned onto your side, looking over the battlefield, looking for friend rather than foe. And gasped for breath and cried pitifully as you met Bjorn's blue eyes as he laid against the ground.
Dead. 
So, you died there between the bodies of the fallen. And you remembered how Beleg’s eyes would crinkle when he smiled and how warm and comforting his touch was. 
Perhaps it would have been better if you had died in that cave. Maybe, then, you would not have felt such an ache in your heart as you do now. Groaning you shove yourself onto your back to take one last look at the dark sky. 
Instead, you saw Evelyn’s smiling face as she leaned over you, the fight still raging behind her. She was beautiful and glittering in her white gown. 
“It is alright.”
“You can rest now.”  
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At the sound of the horn to retreat, Beleg scoured over the heads of his kin frantically. 
“Y/n!” 
He and Mablung had come to the serve in the battle and Beleg had tried tirelessly to find you. 
The others brushed past him as they went knocking into his shoulders as he stood there. He rushed forward shoving past the elves going opposite to him. Making it to the otherside of his kin, he looked out and saw the forces of men lining up against Morgoth’s forces. 
Wide open eyes shook with fear at the sight and he shouted. “Y/n!” 
He went to move forward but was stopped by an armored arm coming underneath his armpit and gripping his arm. Glancing to his side he saw the bloody and stoic face of Mablung. His friend pulled him back. 
“Come on! There is no time for this!” 
“But Y/n’s still out there!” 
Two other elves came quickly to him, the lords of the now King, the elf with golden hair frowned and gripped his other side. “It is too late for the others!” He called. 
Beleg shook his head as panic and grief consumed him. “I cannot leave them!” 
Mablung with the help of the stranger dragged him back. “What would you have them do, even if you did find them!? Abandon their men to die!?” 
He shook his head again. “I would die beside them!”
The lord beside him turned behind to watch his friend as sounds of the battle came to their ears. 
Tears trickled down Beleg’s dirtied cheeks and he cried out in agony, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene of the battle. “I didn’t get to tell them!” 
He struggled against them. “Let me go!”  
The other Noldor lord looked over to him at his shout. Mablung shook him as both he and the golden haired lord lifted him from his feet. 
“Your love would not want you to die here, Beleg! And I care for you too much to let you!” 
Beleg cried as they pulled him away. Bowing his head to his chest as he listened to the slaughter continue without him. 
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Months later after the great battle of Unnumbered Tears, Morwen bid her son goodbye. And that's when Túrin finally hand delivered your letter. But when the silver haired elf saw the wax seal there was nothing in the world that could have prepared the boy for the pain that crossed the elf’s face.  
To my dearest love, 
You should know how often I dream of you. When I see you, you hold a young babe with dark hair in your arms and they grab at your locks. You have the sweetest smile when I see it and my heart aches because the sweetest illusions are often the cruelest.  
I have so much I want to tell you, but I lack the words. It is funny, isn’t it? After all we’ve been through together, you’d think I’d get to say goodbye, in person, this time. I don't know why I expected this time to be different. . .
Please forgive me. Tomorrow, I ride off to war and I know not what fate awaits me. 
All I ask, is if you’ll remember me? 
With all my love,
Y/n, Loyal Servant of Lord Húrin
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mur4sak1 · 2 months ago
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What might be the Pokemon of the elves of the silmarillion? (part 2)
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The arts are not mine, the credit goes to these wonderful artists.
A/N: Hi everyone, welcome to part two. I hope you like it! (Remember that English is not my first language so I hope I wrote in the best way <3)
Characters: Glorfindel, Nerdanel, Eöl, Argon, Beleg, Aredhel
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Glorfindel: Braviary
"Braviary are very fearless Pokémon who fight relentlessly and fearfully. They are very courageous, as their classification as a "Brave Pokémon" suggests. They take pride in fighting and will not hesitate to protect their family and friends. The more scars a Braviary has, the more respected it is by the flock." The description already speaks for itself, but there is another reason that pushed me to see these two souls connected by a deeper bond: the death of Glorfindel. When the elf was dragged by the hair by the dying Balrog into the ravine, it was Thorondor, the king of eagles, who recovered his corpse in the narrative. But what if in another universe it had been his pokemon? His pokemon with the appearance of an eagle that is very capable of moving between wind currents? HIS pokemon that swooped down to save his body? Yes, in a final gesture of respect, it would be Braviary himself who would offer eternal glory to the one he had fought with for years…
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Nerdanel: Kangaskhan
"Kangaskhans feed their cubs, and other Kangaskhans, but if anyone tries to touch or harm the cubs, the mother will ferociously attack the person who tries to hurt the cub. When its mother performs a move or pose, the cub may imitate her actions. To avoid crushing the cub, it always sleeps standing up." The thoughtfulness given to pokemon, exactly like Nerdanel. It must have been difficult raising 7 children, especially with a husband as stubborn and impulsive as Fëanor. Despite everything, the woman never stopped trying to instill in her children the values of balance and wisdom that she herself had learned from her father Mahtan. However, as often happens for those with such a big heart, the pain of separation and her family's poor choices weighed on her. Nerdanel, just like a Kangaskhan who sees her cub wandering away, suffered immensely as she watched her children follow their father towards a dark and tragic destiny, unable to stop them. Yet, although he could not always protect them from the consequences of their actions, his love and concern for them never wavered.
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Eöl: Mimikyu
“Mimikyu feels very alone and wants to be loved by people just like Pikachu is, so he covers himself with a puppet of his so as not to scare people and other Pokémon when he tries to make friends.” I don't think the meeting between Mimikyu and Eöl was "meant" to happen. As its description says, Mimikyu is a pokemon that feels alone, useless and worthless... it would do anything to be loved, even turning a blind eye to many injustices in order to establish a relationship worthy of being called such with someone. For his part, the dark elf certainly doesn't shine with compassion and respect. We all know the terrible actions he has done, and among these, enchanting Aredhel to force her to stay by his side would certainly be the worst. In fact, Mimikyu could no longer bear the burden of "indulging" such violence and his desire was to get away. But there was one thing that held him back: Aredhel herself. The elf woman was so sweet and kind to him that running away and leaving her in the hands of that being to whom he had given all his trust made him suffer. He therefore decides not to leave, but to do everything he can to make her experience that torture as lightly as possible.
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Beleg: Decidueye
"He is usually very calm, but if caught off guard he becomes agitated in confusion. When he needs to miss his target, Decidueye pulls the vines of his hood, so as to reduce the opening and aim better." For Beleg, being an infallible archer, Decidueye would be the perfect companion. Together they would efficiently fill the role of "protectors of Doriath's borders", obtaining countless merits from Thingol. Unlike the elf, the Pokemon would be much more rigid towards its task; Decideueye is proud and very hard on himself, not allowing any mistakes, and this tension would cause him a lot of pressure. In fact, he would spend much of his time flying in the skies scanning for possible dangers and intervening even before a blink of an eye can be done. Upon Beleg's death at the hands of Turin, Decidueye would lose every ounce of compassion his companion had taught him. He developed an immense hatred towards the man... he wanted to kill him and make him feel all the pain he was capable of for having deprived him of his best friend, but he couldn't, Beleg wouldn't have wanted it... He therefore swore to himself that he would do everything to make him feel the weight of his actions, watching over him as Death does with the damned.
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Argon: Drilbur/Excadrill
“Drilbur are very calm Pokémon, however they are also very determined Pokémon that spend much of their time burrowing underground.” This pokemon, THIS POKEMON would be the salvation of all the elves who attempted to cross the Helcaraxë. After Fëanor's abandonment, survival in such a hostile environment was almost impossible. Cold, ice, scarce supplies and little hope, all elements that profoundly affected the spirit of the desolate. But in a now completely darkened tunnel, the light was opened by a small pokemon in the shape of a mole, who, thanks to his powerful claws and an imperturbable spirit, allowed an easier march towards the Beleriand. And it was precisely during one of these moments that Drillbull evolved into Excadrill, just as a very young elf understood that the world was much harsher than he dreamed of.
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Aredhel: Absol
"He almost never comes into contact with humans, but when he does he is never appreciated due to his bad reputation. He has been hunted for a long time, thinking that if he removed Absol from it, catastrophes could end in a place." A part of me wants to believe that Aredhel is defined as "the white lady" precisely because of her bond with such a labeled pokemon which, it pains me to say, will give her an even darker fate. In the silence of the veiled forest, Aredhel stopped, without knowing why. A white shadow emerged from the trees: Absol. No fear, no hesitation. Only a silent understanding, a bond as old as destiny itself. Two wandering souls, united not by reason, but by an invisible, inevitable call. Absol couldn't explain why, but Aredhel carried something with her—something he needed to know. A dark, inescapable feeling hovered around her, and when he met Eöl, Absol knew that was the sign that had drawn him towards her. He didn't follow her, he didn't hold her back, but he remained nearby, watchful in the shadows, like a silent guardian. He watched her from afar, as if he could protect her, yet nothing could stop fate. Without meaning to, Aredhel had left a shadow on Absol that did not belong to him. People began to fear him, to avoid him, to whisper his name with contempt. It was said that he was the one who brought misfortune on the White Lady, that his presence had sealed her fate. Thus, once again, Absol became the face of a fault that was not his, condemned to wander alone, the blameless specter of a fate already written.
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felagund-the-valiant · 9 months ago
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In All Shapes and Sizes - Beleg x shapeshifter!reader
Love comes in all shapes and sizes. Beleg got to experience this first-hand.
Words: 612
Tags: fluff
A/N: a tiny little something I wrote for @doodle-pops underrated character event :D
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A chill lay in the air, announcing the slow approach of autumn. The leaves crackled ever so slightly under his boots as Beleg tread the narrow path that led to your shared home, humming absentmindedly. The birds overhead seemed to pick up on his song and joined in with cheerful chirps and coos, entirely unbothered by his presence. A couple of deer trotted through the forest, watching him curiously before going separate ways. He spotted fresh paw prints on the same trail he was walking on – his tracking abilities told him they were left by a fox. A knowing smirk crossed his face, and he sped up his pace ever so slightly, wondering if he could catch up before either of you reached home.
Mere moments later, Beleg heard a rustle in the bushes but couldn’t spot anything moving, or so he thought. A flash of red fur appeared in the corner of his eyes out of nowhere and he felt a pair of arms and legs wrap around his body as you leapt into his arms. He stumbled back a little and let out a breathless laugh.  “Slow down there,” he gasped as he set you back on the ground, but you paid him no mind. “How I have missed you, meleth. Are you well? Any wounds that need tending to?” You scanned his body and did a gentle pat down. “I’m fine, no need to worry.” Beleg stopped your hands from wandering by taking them into his own and smiling reassuringly at you. “You know I’m always careful. And more than capable of tending to wounds, as you should know.” You lowered your head bashfully at his comment, catching the reference to your first meeting.
It had been more than unexpected. One rainy day, Beleg had found himself nursing a poor hurt fox he had encountered while on patrol and was more than surprised when a couple of days later an Elf was sitting in his hut with no sign of the fox. He had heard rumours of so-called shapeshifters from other wardens but never thought he would see one in the flesh, much less fall in love with one. Many a times he had asked you if you wouldn’t come live with him in the city, but you refused, preferring the solitude of the forest to the hustle and bustle of civilisation. It wasn’t difficult for him to make the decision to join you in living in nature and he had never once regretted it. Living with the one he loved was worth more than any comfort the city could ever hope to offer and he had already spent large portions of his life in the forest anyway.
“Race you home?” You asked excitedly and he snorted. “I return after a long watch, and you want me to physically exert myself even more? Also, we both know I don’t stand chance. You just want to brag about winning again,” Beleg teased. In your Elven form he might have been able to outrun you with ease, but foxes were faster than the Elves and he knew you would not pick the easy route for him. You sighed dramatically and he halted any complaints you might voice by bending down and kissing your forehead. “All I want right now is to be home, enjoy a good meal and cosy up with my beloved. Does that sound good to you as well?” You bit your bottom lip and pretended to ponder his request before nodding. You stood on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his lips and interlaced your fingers with his. “That sounds wonderful, actually. Let’s go.”
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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years ago
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Kinktober 2023
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Ladies and Gents, here is the Masterlist for the Kinktober Challenge, brought to you by @cilil
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Body worship & virginity - Caranthir x Finrod
Roleplay/role reversal/CNC & bondage - Thorin x OC/reader
Intercrural sex & wings - Day 1 - Gothmog x Eönwë
Bath/shower & incubi/succubi - Manwë x Ulmo
Cam & temperature play - Daeron x Maglor
Knotting & frottage - Finrod x Wolf-Sauron (dark)
Dirty talk & lingerie - Angbang
Voyeurism & dub-con/non-con - Gríma
(Pseudo) Incest & torture Fëanor x Fingolfin
Orgy & Predator/prey - Day 4 - Celegorm x Oromë x Aredhel
Size difference & friends/enemies with benefits - Glorestor
Breath play & humiliation/degradation - Maglor x Glorfindel for @maglor-my-beloved
Masturbation & massages - Ori x OC
Authority kink & oral - Russingon (for anon)
Somnophilia & impact play - Day 7 - Nerdanel x Anairë
Fingering & aphrodisiacs - Bagginshield
Blood play & wet dreams/dream sex - Nightmare!Irmo x Curufin
ABO & praise kink - Day 3 - Melkor/Maedhros for anon
Telepathy & sex worker/stripper - Gondolin ot3 (for @jaz-the-bard)
Crossdressing & pegging - Day 2 - Námo x Vairë (for @cilil)
Clothed sex & blindfolds- Finwë/Thingol
Electrostimulation & pet play - Finrod/Celegorm/Curufin for MoonLord
Knife/Sword/Gun play & cock warming - Fíli x OC/reader
Hand kink/gloves & toys - Celebrimbor x Narvi for anon
Daddy/Mommy & edging/OD - Théoden x OC/reader
Hate fucking & Emotional/therapy sex - Day 5 - Manwë x Melkor
Glory Hole & breeding kink/creampie - Maeglin x Gondolin (lol) for anon
Boots/feet & intoxication - Beleg x Mablung
Public & Biting/Marking - Day 6 - Curumo x Aiwendil
Tentacles & nipple play - Silvergifting
Extra: Monsterfucking, claustrophilia, mirror play, hypnosis/mind control, dumbification, oviposition, dacryphilia, voice kink, mistaken identity
ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ: Voyeurism, Virginity, and Sex Pollen - Gothmog x Eönwë, Thuri x Ilmarë, Russingon
I will try to write short ficlets for all of these ("try" being the keyword).
Please give it up for @cilil who has compiled this lovely list -> ✨post!✨
The original graphic is under the "read more" <3
And, as if this was not suicidal enough, I'll integrate the 7 days of @silmsmutweek into the roster (in green).
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