#elv ☀️

[archived-junkissed]

Pls evaluate my results idk what they mean 😭

I DIDNT SCREENSHOT MINE but it means ur smart as fuck elv 😭😭 mine was like 22,000 and it said i know as many words as a white collar american man and i took that offensively

[ji-lixie]

💕 Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you Love you 💕

aaa elv 😭 love you MORE!! i hope u are taking care of urself ilysm

[elfdyke]

june design update dropping ^_^ YAY

[seokmins]

WTF JACKIE

hello????😵‍💫

[woozification]

I lub ur header 💗

aaa ty elv 🥺🥺 it was my first time making an actual header like this, i'm glad you like it!!

[earthlybeam]

As I promised, the other elves version here! I hope you all enjoy it to the fullest. ☺️ Wishing everyone a wonderful day or a peaceful night, wherever you are. Take care and make the most of every moment! ❤️‍🔥🫶✨

Celebrimbor, Glorfindel, Haldir, Lindir versions below.

💍𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓫𝓸𝓻

The morning light spilled across the stonework of Celebrimbor’s private balcony, a soft golden glow that danced over the polished railings and the scattered tools left from last night’s work. Beyond the edge of Eregion, the Misty Mountains loomed in the distance, wreathed in a gentle haze. A cup of tea rested in his hands, steam curling lazily into the crisp morning air as he took slow, measured sips.

You stepped outside, the scent of metal and embers lingering faintly in the air—his forge was never far from him. Dressed in his usual elegant but practical tunic, Celebrimbor stood tall, silver-threaded dark hair catching in the light. He had been up for hours already, no doubt lost in thought over some new project, but as you approached, his expression softened.

“Good morning,” he greeted, setting his tea aside just in time for you to wrap your arms around him. He huffed out a quiet laugh, surprised but not unwelcoming. His embrace was firm yet careful, a silent acknowledgment of how much he enjoyed this. You hadn’t meant to linger too long, but as soon as your face brushed against his shoulder, his scent filled your lungs—warm like sun-heated parchment, the faintest trace of cedarwood and something metallic, likely from the forge. It was grounding, familiar, and so distinctly him.

He began to pull away slightly, but you hesitated. Instead of letting go, you pressed back in, burying your face against his neck with an exaggerated inhale—one sniff, then another, deeper this time. Celebrimbor stiffened slightly. “What—?” Another sniff. A little louder this time. You let out a small, contented sigh. “Ohhh, you smell so good.”

His entire body went rigid, and then—color. A deep flush creeping up the tips of his pointed ears, traveling down his neck. “I—Meleth!” His voice wavered, entirely caught off guard, his hands briefly hovering in place as if unsure whether to hold you closer or to pry you off.

You sniffed again, more dramatically, making a show of practically melting into him. “Why do you smell this good? It’s unfair.” Celebrimbor exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching against your back. “Is—” He cleared his throat. “Is this a normal greeting for you, or should I be worried?” You peeked up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, utterly delighted at his rare display of flustered confusion. “I dunno, maybe you just smell extra nice today.”

Poor Celebrimbor looked torn between amusement and sheer mortification. He was accustomed to admiration for his craft, for his skill, but being openly appreciated like this? By you? He didn’t know how to handle it. “I—I do bathe regularly,” he muttered, trying to compose himself, but his voice cracked ever so slightly.

You grinned, taking one final, obnoxiously loud inhale for good measure. “Mmmm. Sure hope you do, it’s Perfection.” He groaned, pressing a hand over his face, but you caught the small, helpless smile tugging at his lips. “Valar help me,” he mumbled under his breath, but his arms remained wrapped around you all the same.

☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

The sun was beginning to set, draping Imladris in a golden glow as you walked toward the training grounds. The scent of grass, warmed stone, and crisp evening air filled your senses, but none of it compared to what you were truly after—the distinct, familiar scent of him. Glorfindel stood near the racks of practice swords, wiping the sweat from his brow with a cloth. His golden hair, slightly tousled from sparring, shimmered under the fading light. His tunic clung slightly to his frame, proof of a hard-fought session, and the fresh scent of clean sweat mixed with something distinctly him—a deep, grounding blend of pine, leather, and a warmth that was uniquely Glorfindel.

The moment he saw you, his entire expression softened. His eyes—bright and full of warmth—lit up as he approached, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Meleth nîn,” he greeted you, his voice carrying the slight breathlessness of exertion. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a firm embrace, his strong arms wrapping securely around you. The hug was warm, enveloping, safe. You buried yourself into his chest, feeling the lingering heat from his workout. But then—you caught it. That scent. You inhaled once, deeply. Oh.

It was intoxicating, grounding yet heady. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his tunic just slightly, savoring it, letting the scent of him wash over your senses. But just as Glorfindel began to ease back from the hug, you weren’t done. Before he could fully withdraw, you leaned in again, pressing your nose to the crook of his neck, drawing in another deep inhale—this time harder, like you were melting into it. Glorfindel froze. You felt his muscles tense slightly in surprise before he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Oh?” His voice dipped into amused curiosity. But you weren’t finished. Another sniff. Deeper. As if committing his scent to memory.

Glorfindel’s laughter rumbled in his chest this time, golden and warm. “Meleth, what are you doing?” His tone was playful, but you could hear the undercurrent of sheer delight. You mumbled against his shoulder, your words muffled, “You just—smell so good.” That was it. He laughed again, a rich, joyous sound, as his arms tightened around you in response. He dipped his head slightly, his breath brushing against your temple as he leaned into the hug once more instead of pulling away.

“Do I?” He mused, teasing. “I suppose I should train more often if it earns me this kind of welcome.” A hint of smugness laced his words, but beneath it was unmistakable affection. His large hand came up to cradle the back of your head, allowing you to breathe him in as long as you wanted. And when you finally pulled back, a little dazed, a little blissed out, he smirked and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Remind me to spar every day, then,” he murmured, utterly pleased with himself.

🏹𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓻

Haldir had just returned from his patrol, the last golden hues of the sun slipping beneath the boughs of Lothlórien, casting the trees in soft twilight. His steps were measured, composed as always, but there was a quiet ease in his posture—his duty for the day was complete, and now he could rest. As he approached, his keen eyes softened ever so slightly at the sight of you waiting for him.

You met him with a warm embrace, stepping into his arms without hesitation. His body was firm, strong from years of discipline, but the way his arms encircled you was deliberate, careful—protective. The faint scent of the forest clung to him, mixed with something inherently Haldir—a crisp, clean scent like rain on ancient wood, tinged with the faintest trace of the elven oils used to care for his armor and weapons. As he moved to pull away, you hesitated for just a moment, your head tilting slightly. Then, instinct took over. You leaned back in, pressing your face lightly to the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. Oh.

The scent was intoxicating—earthy yet ethereal, familiar yet utterly irresistible. Your first breath was slow and savoring, but the second… oh, the second was deeper, hungrier, a slow, deliberate inhale that sent a delightful shiver through your spine. You let out a small, pleased hum, utterly melting into him.

Haldir, still holding you, stiffened ever so slightly. His hands, resting at your back, faltered for the briefest moment as his mind registered exactly what you were doing. He was not unused to your affection, but this… “…Meleth nín,” he murmured, his voice carrying both amusement and wary confusion. “Are you… scenting me?” You didn’t respond immediately—too lost in the moment, nuzzling just slightly closer to take in another breath. His warmth, his presence, the way his scent wrapped around you—it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Haldir exhaled slowly through his nose, his grip on you tightening, though whether in mild embarrassment or something else entirely, you weren’t sure. “You are lingering,” he noted dryly, though his tone betrayed no real protest. His hands found your waist, and his thumb absently traced a slow circle against your back—a silent indulgence, despite his perplexed reaction.

You finally pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your lips curved in a pleased smile. “You smell incredible.” For the first time in a long while, Haldir looked momentarily caught off guard. He blinked, tilting his head slightly as if to process your words. Then, in an almost imperceptible movement, his lips twitched. “Do I?” You nodded enthusiastically. “Like the forest after the rain… and something else. Something… you.”

Haldir let out a quiet chuckle, a rare, fleeting sound. “You are fortunate no others are here to witness this.” You raised a brow. “Oh? Would your fellow wardens find this amusing?” He exhaled through his nose, the faintest smirk ghosting across his lips. “They would find me amusing.” His fingers curled slightly against your waist. “And I cannot allow that.” You grinned, leaning in once more—not for another deep inhale this time, but to press a soft kiss against the curve of his jaw. “Then it shall be our secret.”

Haldir hummed, his arms subtly tightening around you, as if weighing the idea of letting you go just yet. Eventually, he exhaled, lowering his forehead briefly against yours before murmuring, “Very well. But be warned, meleth nín… I will remember this.” And with that, the mighty Marchwarden of Lórien—stoic, disciplined, ever-composed—allowed himself the smallest moment of indulgence, leaning just slightly into your embrace, letting the warmth of you settle into him like the hush of twilight over the Golden Wood.

🎻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓻

Lindir had been carefully organizing a collection of books in Elrond’s library, his fingers gliding along the spines with practiced precision. The scent of parchment, aged ink, and the faint lingering of herbal tea from earlier clung to the air. It was peaceful, quiet—the way he preferred it—until he heard the soft shuffle of footsteps behind him. He barely had time to react before you wrapped your arms around him in a greeting hug, your warmth pressing against his back. Lindir tensed at first, startled, but quickly exhaled, relaxing into your embrace. He always did when it was you.

“Ah—m-meleth,” he murmured softly, the tips of his ears already tinged with pink. His voice was always composed, even when his heart wasn’t. “You startled me.” You hummed in amusement, your head resting against his shoulder. “Couldn’t help it,” you admitted. “You looked too huggable.” Lindir let out a quiet chuckle, his hands hovering uncertainly before gently resting atop yours. He wasn’t one for grand displays of affection in public—or even in private, really—but he cherished these moments, small as they were.

Then, just as he was about to step away, you moved. Your nose brushed against the side of his neck, your breath warm against his skin as you took in a deep inhale. Lindir froze. His entire body went rigid, fingers gripping the edges of the book he was holding as if it were his only lifeline. You didn’t stop there—no, you leaned in again, this time inhaling deeper, as if completely melting from the scent of him. By the Valar. Lindir’s breath hitched audibly, his entire face blooming into a shade of red so deep it rivaled the sunset over Imladris. “W-What are you doing?!” His voice cracked, utterly scandalized.

“You smell so good,” you sighed, completely unbothered, nuzzling closer before giving another, even harder sniff. Lindir’s brain promptly short-circuited. A strangled sound escaped him—something between a gasp and an embarrassed whimper—before he practically bolted out of your hold, spinning on his heel with wide, mortified eyes.

“I—You—Th-That is—” He sputtered, struggling to form coherent words. He took an urgent step back, only to bump into the bookshelf behind him. The books rattled in protest. His entire posture was stiff, hands clutched at his robes as if he could physically anchor himself to dignity. You, on the other hand, just grinned. “What?” you teased, tilting your head. “I like your scent.” Lindir made a sound that could only be described as an overwhelmed squeak. His hand flew to his face, covering his mouth as if that would somehow help suppress the furious blush overtaking him. His heart was pounding.

Elbereth, how was he supposed to function after that? “You cannot—cannot just—sniff me like that in public!” he stammered, voice a strangled whisper as if afraid someone might overhear. “I am working! This is a library! There are rules!” You just leaned in slightly, mischief dancing in your eyes. “So… I can do it when we’re not in public?”

Lindir visibly malfunctioned. His pointy ears twitched. His lips parted in stunned horror. His soul nearly left his body. “I—” He looked as if he was about to combust, his face buried behind both hands now, but the way his shoulders trembled told you he was suppressing the urge to flee. It was adorable. You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching forward to gently pry his hands from his face. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave,” you conceded, amusement still dancing in your expression. “But you do smell amazing, just so you know.”

Lindir swallowed thickly, looking absolutely wrecked by your words. He exhaled, still pink-faced, but his lips twitched into something shy, hesitant. “…You are utterly incorrigible,” he muttered, shaking his head as he turned back to his task—though his hands were still visibly shaking. And yet, as you watched him fluster about, you didn’t miss the way his ears remained red for the rest of the afternoon.

[indialadina]

It's been a while of my Two elves au o.o. 🐯🌙👒☀️

[askereiniongilgalad]

Good morning, High King ☀️ !

I hope it’s not to forward to ask, but I find my curiosity compels me to: can you tell us more of your relationship with Arondír? You seem to be forming a bond with him, and I hoped you would be willing share your first impressions of the warrior with us. He seems quite fond of you and Lady Galadriel.

Good morning, night, whatever it is, my friend! ☀️🌙

Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone asked. You see, I have this habit... some might call it a talent, for adopting elves. Galadriel, Celebrimbor, Elrond (though, to be fair, he adopted me first), and now… the newest addition: Arondir. Oh yes, holy, Valar-blessed Arondir. The answer to my weary prayers!!

My first impression of him? A profound one. He’s a capable warrior. 💪 Disciplined. Patient. Noble. Outstanding performance during the Siege of Eregion. ⚔️ And yes, you’ve hit the key point: he’s quite fond of Lady Galadriel.

Did I mention he’s patient? Very, very patient.

So, there we were...muddy, exhausted, battle-worn, and bonding. Well, more like me gently easing him into the family… and into his newest and most important assignment:

🎀 My nanny. 🎀

Yes, my friend, I present to you: Galadriel’s newest nanny. 🎉 He’s even equipped with the survival instincts to possibly make this work.

Our relationship? Let’s just say it’s an unspoken understanding that we’re both in way too deep. So yes... he’s now my latest addition to the collection, and trust me: he’s not getting out of my sight anytime soon. 🔗 If all goes well, I might just preserve what little remains of my sanity for what you call the "S3 event". 🤞🙏

Wish me luck. I’m really going to need it.

Gil-galad 👑🍷

[prpfz]

I’m currently CRAVING some classic mxf plots at the moment and I have a bunch of male ocs I can throw someone’s way! I’m 21+ and write on discord in our own server but also open to writing on tumblr or other places! Advanced lit, multi-para, and can write a lot if we get the ball rolling, and I love all things slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, romance, and so much more. Open and for some scenarios specifically looking for legal age gaps (not fresh 18 legal lmao), and open to things like size differences, golden retriever/black cat, opposites attract, those sort of vibes! I’m open to plotting new ideas with people but the current ones I have in mind are:

- Historical, 1800s~; a sweet, charming young noble man, can be written as human or a vampire if we want a supernatural twist! Open to writing him against anyone but some ideas: a woman from another noble family trying to be set up with him or purely intrigued by him and his reputation; a scholar, who he can offer support and resources to to pursue/share her studies; similar vein, an artist/musician/etc whom he can host and support; someone from more humble backgrounds hired to work in his home for him.

- Another historical 1800s~ setting; an older, stoic man from humble backgrounds, can also be written as a werewolf for supernatural drama! Ideas for him: he could be a gardener or stable hand for a wealthy family; a farmer in the countryside that helps a runaway noble woman, or a woman new to his small village.

- (Modern/adults) physically intimidating looking guy who’s actually very sweet/gentle, and his more fiery, rebellious/outgoing girlfriend.

- (Modern/teens-young adults) troubled, rebellious guy and a reserved, smart student type girl.

- (Historical, Wild West/adults) older outlaw and his young sweetheart, navigating two different lives and reconnecting after/throughout the years.

- (Modern/adults) older single father and a younger, bubbly woman; maybe a teacher for one of his kids, maybe a new person at work, maybe a neighbour who wants to lend a hand, etc!

- (Modern-slight historical- 18/1900s/adults) older country village farmer guy and the new woman in town.

- (High fantasy, historical/medieval/adults) A variety of adventurers, bounty hunters, rogues, mages, heroes that can fit against just about anyone! Fantasy races and supernatural stuff included (elves/tieflings/werewolves/anything and everything.)

If anything catches your eye, feel free to say so and we can chat more about characters and details! Some of my oc’s include darker topics in some settings and backstories, but all boundaries will be respected! I use realistic faceclaims the majority of the time and would prefer them, but also accept descriptions and Pinterest boards! Some of my oc’s are not white, so if that’s an issue, we probably won’t work out lol. Open to smut but it’s not the main focus and I don’t rush into it! Things I’m not looking for: dark, abusive relationship, complete power imbalances, pregnancy plots. Otherwise though, let’s chat and plot stuff out together! ☀️

give a like and anon will get back to you

[not-glorfindel-stop-asking]

The Rivendell Record: A Most Auspicious Morning

Dearest journal and people of the inter-...web?

A miracle has occurred.

No, not the return of spring, nor the melodious arrival of migratory birds—though both are, of course, happening in their own poetic and seasonal manner. No.

Today marks an event of far greater significance.

I was enjoying my morning ritual: a steaming cup of perfectly prepared coffee, rich and frothy, kissed with just the right amount of honey. The air was crisp, the waterfalls sang, and for a moment, I allowed myself the foolish hope that this would be a peaceful day.

Then, fate intervened.

From the heavens above, with all the precision of a divine omen, a bird—freshly returned from its long sojourn to the South—unleashed its blessing directly upon Glorfindel’s golden head.

Glorfindel, radiant in his morning arrogance, was mid-sentence when it happened. ☀️✨ Truly, he was at his most insufferable—grinning like the morning itself was personally crafted for him, gesturing grandly as though recounting some great, heroic deed (it was probably the tale of That One Time He Did Something Allegedly Spectacular for the hundredth time). I do not recall what he was saying, for as soon as the blessed event took place, all other sounds faded into insignificance. The birds ceased their song. The wind stilled. The waterfalls of Imladris hushed their eternal murmuring in solemn reverence.

There was only the startled squawk of the bird. 🕊️ The soft plop of justice being served. 💩 And the sheer, exquisite poetry of his expression.

He froze. I froze. The world, for one breathtaking moment, held its breath. 🌎

And then I laughed. Oh, how I laughed. I have not known such pure, undiluted joy since the Second Age. I laughed so hard that my very soul felt lighter, as though I had been granted a great gift from the Valar themselves. Tears streamed down my face; I clutched at a nearby column for support. My knees threatened betrayal, but I held firm, for I knew—I knew—that I had to witness this moment to its fullest extent.

Glorfindel, mighty among elves, balrog-slayer, golden terror of Rivendell, stood stricken. His glorious mane, his greatest pride, had been sullied. The light of Aman dimmed in his eyes as he beheld the small, righteous stain upon his head, and I? I wept with mirth.

He lifted a hand—trembling, disbelieving—to his hair. He wiped at it, looked at his fingers, and then, in a voice so betrayed one would think the bird had struck him through the heart, whispered:

“…That was deliberate.”

And perhaps it was.

Who am I to say what grievances the birds of Rivendell hold? Perhaps they, too, have suffered beneath his overwhelming presence. Perhaps this was a calculated strike, a long-awaited vengeance for every overly-loud tale of his past glories, every time he had laughed too boldly, shone too brightly, disrupted their peace.

Or perhaps the bird was simply having a good day.

Do you know how rare it is to witness such unfiltered karmic retribution? How seldom the universe aligns to deliver such perfect, poetic justice? I may write songs of this day. Ballads, even. Future generations shall hear of the time Glorfindel, the Mighty, the Undying, the Ever-Graceful, was bested by a creature no larger than my hand.

He, of course, did not find it amusing. Which only makes it funnier.

A good day, indeed. The birds have returned, the air is alive with their song, and my coffee is still warm. The Valar are kind.

[archived-junkissed]

Assuming ur fav man is Jun but ur fav seok girly is me (I don't take criticism /j)

PLS NSKJDFN yes it's true jun is my favorite man 😔 however you are incorrect you aren't a seok girlie you Are seokmin himself i know he's hiding behind your account 🤨

tell me your assumptions!

[ji-lixie]

Peach cobbler? I'm at your doorstep with flowers 💐

me burying my face in my hands... elv u are the cutest ily 😭

[elfdyke]

official ref for roe !!

[marialeto]

Tuesday January 28 💙💙

Mercury

Blue Ray of Light

Soul Elohim

Ether Element

Root Chakra

Number Two 2️⃣

Archangel Gabriel

Saint Gabriel

Ascended Masters Lucifer and Derek

South and East directions

Wayneing Crescent Moon 0.9 in Aquarius ♒️ 1

Hawk Omen

Well Circle ⭕️ #solarsystem

Aquarius ♒️ Sun ☀️ Winter ❄️ Season

Hope

Elves 🧝 Day

Masculine Feminine divinity

2 of Wands

Morocco 🇲🇦

Tangier

Day 97 in the Bible

Galaxy 🌌

Deliveries 🚚

Christ

Juju

1-28-2025

1289

317

11

2 🎲 #datenumerology

#inspiration

Tangier city in Morocco 🇲🇦

Northwestern

Punic Carthaginian

Phoenician colony

Berber

BCE

Satan

Megacosmos

[woozification]

Henlo my lovely Emily how r u? Abelia and taro for the ask game pls and tyyy

hiya elv, i'm doing well! how are youu? <3

abelia - do you have a particular piece of jewelry you always wear or can’t part with?

i don't, actually! the only non-clothing thing i always wear is my glasses 😂

taro - if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?

i definitely want to update them on my field study search, my plans to move (contingent on my field study search!) and my plans for graduation. terrible important life things!!

[earthlybeam]

A bit of a silly, very indulgent, request here, if you're accepting requests of course! But how would Glorfindel, Legolas, Elrond (+anyone else if you'd like to add!) react to a reader that either has a dragon or can transform into a dragon? If it's the former request, the reader is really protective of the dragon no matter how big/small it is, and if it is the latter, their first meeting could be while the reader is in dragon form.

Thank you so much for your time and your writing, regardless if you end up doing this request or not!<33

how would the elves react to this?

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↓

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Elrond, glrofindel, Legolas Versions version below

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

Elrond’s First Encounter with You in Dragon Form

✶ Elrond’s reaction to discovering that you are a dragon—or bonded with one—would be a blend of awe, curiosity, caution, and deep reverence for the power and mystery of such a being. His centuries of life and wisdom would grant him a nuanced understanding of dragons, but also an underlying wariness, given their often tumultuous history with elves and Middle-earth as a whole.

✶ If you were to first appear in your dragon form, Elrond would not immediately draw his weapon or react with aggression. Instead, he would observe, standing tall with that composed grace for which he is known. Though his heart might race at the sight of such a creature, his wisdom would prevent him from acting rashly.

✶ “By the stars of Varda… what majesty and might stands before me,” he might murmur, his sharp eyes drinking in every detail of your scaled form. His voice would remain calm, laced with awe and curiosity, though there might be an underlying tension in his tone.

✶ Elrond would likely address you with respect, understanding that dragons are proud and powerful beings, not to be trifled with. He would speak in measured words, testing the waters before acting further. “If you come in peace, great one, I welcome you to Imladris, though such a guest as you has not graced these lands for many an age.”

✶ The fact that you show no hostility (whether through your body language or any gesture of non-aggression) would intrigue him further. His natural inclination as a lore-master would drive him to question your nature—your purpose, your past, and most of all, why you have come to Rivendell. He would approach cautiously, his every movement deliberate, a sign of both respect and prudence.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Upon Discovering You Are the Dragon or Bonded to One

✶ The moment Elrond discovers that you are the dragon—or that you have bonded with such a creature—his composed exterior would momentarily falter. A sharp breath would escape him as the revelation hit, his eyes widening slightly as the implications settled in his mind.

✶ “You… are no mere traveler, then,” he would murmur, his tone softer, imbued with a new layer of admiration. “Such power, bound to you with such care… and yet you wield it with grace.” Though Elrond’s demeanor would remain dignified, he would feel an intense sense of intrigue. His wisdom and lore would ignite, and he would recall the many tales and ancient histories surrounding dragons. Yet, unlike many elves, his perception would not be clouded by fear alone. He would recognize your rare balance—a dragon who was not ruled by the malice and greed that often defined their kind.

✶ “How is it,” he would ask, his voice quiet yet filled with genuine curiosity, “that one such as you walks this world, yet bears neither the hunger nor the wrath of dragons past?” His mind would immediately turn to the deeper implications of your nature. You were unlike any dragon he had known. Your strength, tempered with such care, would provoke a quiet reverence in him.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

On Your Protective Nature

✶ As someone who has dedicated his life to protecting Rivendell and its people, Elrond would understand and respect the fierce protectiveness you display toward your dragon form or companion. He would see the bond you share as sacred, as the very essence of loyalty and devotion.

✶ “Your strength and loyalty are admirable,” he might say with a deep, reflective tone, his voice laden with respect, “But even the mightiest of beings can falter if their emotions blind their wisdom. How do you temper such power with the calm of mind that is needed for true wisdom?”

✶ His words would not be harsh but gentle, a reflection of his understanding that even the greatest warriors and guardians need the guidance of their intellect to wield their power with caution. He would recognize that your protective nature comes from love and devotion, a trait Elrond himself values deeply.

✶ As he learns more of your story, his admiration for you would only deepen. Your unique dual nature would intrigue him, and he would see you not just as a being of immense power but as a bridge between two worlds—one of fire and one of grace. Over time, his connection to you would grow, as he began to understand the burdens you carry.

✶ “If ever the weight of such a burden becomes too great,” he would say softly, his voice warmer now, “Know that you are not alone, my heart. Rivendell will always be a sanctuary for you, whether you walk as elf or dragon.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

On Your Bond with the Dragon

✶ If you had a companion of draconic nature, Elrond would approach the bond with the same care and reverence. His understanding of loyalty and kinship would drive him to respect the unique relationship you shared, acknowledging that such bonds are not lightly formed.

✶ “You are rare,” Elrond would comment, his eyes gleaming with the quiet appreciation of one who has seen much. “Few have the courage to bond with such beings, and fewer still find peace within that connection.”

✶ He would observe you carefully, both your words and actions, as he saw how deeply your devotion to the dragon ran. He would not press too much at first, respecting the bond between you, but his respect for your loyalty and wisdom would grow in kind.

✶ Elrond’s Overall View of You as a Dragon or Bonded to One As the truth of your nature settled within him, Elrond’s thoughts would be a blend of awe, contemplation, and a profound respect for you. In time, he would come to see you as more than just a powerful being. You would become a being of immense value, not only for the strength you commanded but for the insight and wisdom you held within. His approach toward you would shift from cautious admiration to something deeper—a recognition of the rare and precious connection you shared with both the world of elves and dragons.

✶ “You are unlike any I have encountered,” Elrond would say with reverence, his voice a mixture of warmth and respect. “A being both ancient and new, powerful and wise. Your journey is one that few could understand, and yet, you are not alone. In Rivendell, you have a home.” And thus, with every word, Elrond would offer not only his wisdom but also his quiet, unyielding support. He would stand by you, as you both walk the ancient paths of Middle-earth—together.

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☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

Glorfindel’s First Encounter with You in Dragon Form

𖤓 If Glorfindel were to first meet you in your dragon form, his initial reaction would be one of awe, mixed with boundless curiosity and excitement. He would not be one to immediately draw his blade; instead, his golden presence would shine brighter, his courage unwavering in the face of such a magnificent creature.

𖤓 “By the light of Laurelin…” he would breathe, his azure eyes wide as he takes in the sheer majesty of your form. A grin would tug at his lips, not out of arrogance or bravado, but pure admiration. “What beauty, what might… How could one not feel humbled before such a sight?”

𖤓 Unlike others who might approach cautiously, Glorfindel’s golden heart would compel him to step forward with confidence, though his movements would still show respect. “You have nothing to fear from me, mighty one,” he would say warmly, his voice laced with both reverence and his trademark playfulness. “I have faced many beings in my time, but none so magnificent as you. Tell me—have you come as friend or foe? Though, I admit, I am hoping for the former.”

𖤓 His natural charisma and lighthearted demeanor would likely disarm any tension. If you showed no aggression, Glorfindel would relax entirely, his hand leaving the hilt of his sword as his shoulders dropped into an easy stance. “And here I thought Rivendell’s gardens were the greatest wonders of this land,” he’d joke, his golden hair catching the light as he offered a respectful nod. “Clearly, I was mistaken.”

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Glorfindel Learns That You Are the Dragon

𖤓 When the truth emerges—that you are the dragon—Glorfindel would not try to hide his astonishment. His lips would part, and for a moment, his golden aura might flicker as he processed the revelation. “You?” he’d ask, his voice tinged with wonder. “You… are no ordinary being. What strength, what grace lies within you.”

𖤓 Glorfindel’s emotions would shine through plainly, his excitement bubbling over. “By the stars! You are both—elf and dragon!” He would give a hearty laugh, shaking his head as though in disbelief. “I should have known. Such strength in spirit, such fire in your eyes… Of course you are one of a kind.”

𖤓 Glorfindel would be endlessly curious, though his questions would come with an eagerness rather than caution. “How does it feel?” he’d ask, his tone almost childlike in its wonder. “To fly, to breathe fire? And yet, you walk among us so gracefully. Do you ever grow tired of one form or the other?” Though his boundless energy might make his curiosity seem overwhelming at first, Glorfindel would always temper it with genuine care. He would sense the isolation you might feel as someone caught between two worlds, and his warm gaze would soften. “You carry much within you—power, loyalty, and a love for those who cannot always understand your nature. But you are not alone. Not here. Not with me.”

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Glorfindel’s Respect for Your Protective Nature

𖤓 Glorfindel would be deeply moved by your protectiveness over your dragon form or companion. As a guardian and warrior himself, he would understand and admire your fierce loyalty. “It is no small thing,” he’d say, his voice steady, “to love something—or someone—so fiercely that you would shield them with your life. It is a bond that I, too, understand.”

𖤓 However, Glorfindel’s playful nature would shine through even here. If he felt you were being too overprotective, he’d gently tease you, his eyes alight with humor. “You know,” he’d say, leaning against a tree with a grin, “even a dragon as mighty as yours can probably fend for itself. But I’ll admit, there’s something endearing about seeing you so… fiery.”

𖤓 That said, Glorfindel would never belittle your devotion. Instead, he would become an ally in your protectiveness, standing beside you without question. “You guard them with your heart,” he’d say seriously. “And should the need arise, I will guard you both with mine.”

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Glorfindel’s Growing Bond with You

𖤓 Over time, Glorfindel would come to treasure your dual nature as both elf and dragon. He would see it as a perfect balance of strength and gentleness, much like his own character. “You remind me of the sun,” he’d tell you, his tone light but sincere. “Warm and radiant, but with a fire that can burn those foolish enough to test it.”

𖤓 He would adore the moments when you trusted him enough to let your guard down. If you ever transformed into your dragon form in his presence, Glorfindel would be the first to marvel openly. “Every time I see you like this, I feel as though I’m witnessing something out of the First Age,” he’d say, his voice full of awe. “It makes me want to do something reckless, like take to the skies with you.”

𖤓 And should you ever feel the weight of your dual existence, Glorfindel would be there to comfort you, his touch gentle as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You are not alone in this,” he’d promise, his voice soft but firm. “You are not too much, nor are you too different. You are simply… you. And that is more than enough.”

𖤓 Glorfindel would thrive on quiet, affectionate moments with you. If you allowed him to rest his head against your scales or curl up beside you in your dragon form, he would be overjoyed, treating it as the highest honor. “This,” he’d murmur, his voice heavy with contentment, “is where I am happiest—beside you, whether you walk as elf or soar as dragon.”

𖤓“You know,” he’d tease, his golden hair brushing against your cheek as he leaned close, “it’s not fair how radiant you are. How am I supposed to focus on anything else when you’re here?”

𖤓 At times, his playful nature might lead to moments of giddy excitement. If he caught sight of you preparing to take flight, he’d call out, “Wait for me!” before racing after you, his laughter echoing through the valley. And if you ever let him ride upon your back in dragon form, he would be absolutely elated. “This is it!” he’d shout, arms outstretched as you soared. “This is the greatest moment of my life!”

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🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

Legolas First Encounter with You in Dragon Form

𖧧 Legolas, with his keen senses and the ever-present curiosity of youth (despite his age), would sense your presence long before seeing you. As you emerged in your dragon form, he would freeze—not out of fear, but sheer wonder. His sharp eyes would drink in every detail: the glint of scales in the light, the sheer power and grace in your movements, and the commanding presence that spoke of ancient times.

𖧧 “By the stars…” he’d whisper under his breath, a touch of awe creeping into his tone. Unlike most, who might reach for their weapons or flee, Legolas would take a cautious step forward, his bow lowered but ready, just in case. He wouldn’t see you as a threat outright—he would trust his instincts, which told him you meant no harm.

𖧧 “I have seen many wonders in my time,” he would murmur, loud enough for you to hear. “But none as magnificent as this.” His voice would carry a note of reverence, but also unguarded curiosity. He’d tilt his head slightly, the way he does when speaking to a creature of the forest. “Are you friend or foe, great one? Do you speak, or is your story told in another way?”

𖧧 If you revealed no hostility, Legolas would relax almost immediately, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He’d step closer with the silent grace of his kind, his posture neither submissive nor domineering but curious and open. “I do not think you are here to harm us. Not with eyes like those,” he’d say softly, his sharp gaze meeting yours without hesitation.

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Learning You Are the Dragon

𖧧 When Legolas discovers that you are the dragon—whether through transformation or explanation—he would be utterly taken aback for a moment, his normally poised demeanor faltering into wide-eyed astonishment. “You… are both?” he’d ask, his voice tinged with wonder and disbelief. He’d blink rapidly, as if trying to process this entirely new concept.

𖧧 “You are unlike any being I have ever encountered,” he’d finally say, his expression softening into admiration. There would be no fear in him, only a deep sense of respect and fascination. “Both elf and dragon… You walk in two worlds, yet belong fully to neither. It must be a path both extraordinary and lonely.”

𖧧 Legolas would not hesitate to pepper you with questions, though his voice would remain gentle. “How does it feel, to fly as they do? Do you think as an elf in that form, or does the dragon’s mind take over?” He’d grow quiet for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours. “Do you… feel at peace? Or is it a burden, to carry such power within you?”

𖧧 His natural warmth and optimism would quickly shine through, however, as he’d grin and say, “I would very much like to see you fly. I imagine it would make even the Great Eagles jealous.”

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Legolas’ Reaction to Your Protective Nature

𖧧 Your fierce protectiveness, whether toward your dragon self or a dragon companion, would resonate deeply with Legolas. As someone who holds an unshakable bond with the natural world and values loyalty above all, he would admire your devotion without question. “It is no small thing, to care so deeply,” he’d say, his tone almost reverent. “Dragons are beings of great power, but also of great vulnerability. Few would understand that as you do.”

𖧧 If your protectiveness ever led you to act recklessly, Legolas might gently try to temper it. “Your heart is noble,” he’d say, his voice quiet but firm. “But even the strongest must be cautious, lest their love for another blinds them to danger. The one you protect would not wish to see you harmed.”

𖧧 He’d also empathize with the loneliness that might come with your bond or dual nature. “I know what it is to feel out of place,” he’d say softly. “To walk among those who cannot truly understand what lies in your heart. But you are not alone, meleth nîn. I see you for who you are, and I think… you are wondrous.”

𖧧 Legolas’ Ongoing Fascination with You. Over time, Legolas would come to admire not just your power, but the person beneath it. He would delight in learning about your experiences and how you view the world from both perspectives. “The trees must speak to you differently when you walk as a dragon,” he’d muse one day, his head tilted thoughtfully. “Do they sing to you, as they do to me? Or do they fall silent in awe?”

𖧧 His natural sense of wonder and curiosity would make him an eager companion, always asking questions and marveling at your abilities. However, he’d also recognize when you needed space, giving you the freedom to retreat when the weight of your dual nature grew heavy.

𖧧 Whenever you transformed into your dragon form, Legolas would watch with unrestrained awe, his eyes alight with admiration. “It is as if the stars themselves lent you their power,” he’d say softly, his voice tinged with reverence. “You are magnificent, meleth nîn. Do not let anyone, not even yourself, convince you otherwise.”

𖧧 And if anyone dared to question or challenge your bond with your dragon self, Legolas would step forward without hesitation, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his knife. “You may not understand,” he’d say calmly, his blue eyes glinting with steely resolve. “But that does not give you the right to judge. Their bond is a gift, not a curse.”

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Legolas’ Growing Bond with You

𖧧 When Legolas first learns that you are bonded with a dragon—or can even transform into one—his reaction would be a mixture of awe and curiosity, but not quite the cautious, composed nature of his father, Thranduil. He is still an elf, with all the wisdom and grace of his kind, but his approach is more gentle, more open-hearted, and full of genuine intrigue.

𖧧 If he first meets you in your dragon form, his reaction would be one of a quiet kind of reverence. He may not immediately speak, but his gaze would be wide, tracing every scale, every movement, with deep fascination. “By the Valar, such a being,” he might whisper under his breath, though his voice would lack fear. For Legolas, dragons are powerful creatures, and the sight of you in your true form would remind him of the ancient forces that shaped Middle-earth. Yet, his sense of awe would not diminish the warmth of his heart toward you.

𖧧 “I never thought I would live to see a dragon in this age,” he might say, his voice both calm and intrigued. “But if you are as magnificent in heart as you are in body, I can see why fate has brought you here.” Unlike the cautious stance of others, Legolas would not shy away, but approach with a calm and sincere curiosity.

𖧧 When Legolas learns you are bonded with the dragon, his wonder grows. He would view the bond between you and the creature as something akin to the bond elves share with nature, an understanding that transcends mere words. He would be fascinated by the depths of loyalty and protection between you two, though it would tug at something within him, too—an unspoken desire to know that kind of loyalty himself.

𖧧 yet, as an elf who has seen the destructive potential of both power and loyalty, Legolas might also voice a concern, albeit gently. “Be careful, Mellon nîn,” he would say with a soft but earnest edge to his words. “There is a fine line between strength and recklessness. Even a dragon must be tempered with wisdom.” He would be concerned not because he doubts your intentions, but because of how fiercely you protect your dragon side or companion.

𖧧 Despite his occasional caution, Legolas would quickly come to value your protection not just of the dragon but of those you love, including him. It would remind him of his own protective instincts toward his companions, and the fierce loyalty he feels toward those who are dear to him. “It is not just strength that makes one noble,” he would tell you softly, “but the wisdom to wield that strength when it is truly needed.”

𖧧 As the two of you spend more time together, Legolas’ affection toward you would grow in quiet, subtle ways. He might not always express his feelings with grand gestures, but his actions would speak volumes. If he sees you quietly sitting by yourself, he would move to sit beside you, always keeping a respectful distance but close enough that the air between you hums with the warmth of his presence. His touch, when it comes, would be light, a brush of his hand on yours or a fleeting touch of his fingers on your arm.

𖧧 His eyes would often seek yours in moments of silence, a soft smile curling on his lips when your gaze meets his. “I find peace in your company,” he might admit one evening, after hours of walking through the woods or sharing a quiet meal, his words spoken softly but with sincerity.

𖧧 He might also find joy in sharing small moments with you—little things that show his growing affection. If you were to show him something meaningful to you, be it a stone, a flower, or a small trinket from your travels, Legolas would appreciate it deeply, always eager to examine it with you, asking questions, listening intently. “A gift from your homeland?” he might ask, genuinely interested, his voice full of admiration.

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