#maedhros x reader

[maedhrosiseverything2me]

Me:*staring at them*.

Me: I didn't know I had a very specific type...

Bestie: what type?.

Me: red hair with missing arm/hand.

[novellaquill]

You are feeding my Gil Galad obsession and I love it

When They See You In Someone Else’s Clothes

Characters: Maedhros, Turgon, Finrod, Ecthelion, Gil-Galad

A/N: Just lovable elves going green and denying it…typical of them.

Synopsis: When their friend or brother lent you their clothes to keep you warm or covered, and your lover caught the green-eyed monster.

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Maedhros — you wore Maglor’s old cloak

• He had just returned from an early council ride, dismounting with boots coated in snow and mud and hair slightly damp when he caught sight of you by the fire, cocooned in a long, deep-blue velvet cloak embroidered with silver thread that looked...suspiciously familiar.

• His whole body practically paused mid-step, and the usual composed ginger expression flickered, just a twitch—but enough for his brothers to smirk knowingly in the background.

• He tried to be subtle, really (failed). But the way his eyes narrowed at the shoulder seams like he was trying to measure them against your frame in such a not subtle manner.

• “That’s not mine,” he muttered grumpily, definitely unable to hide his discomfort. “Clearly.”

• You merely rolled your eyes at the bubbling of his little green monster and told him that his brother, Maglor, gave you the cloak when you left the archives because you didn’t have yours with you and you were cold.

• Knowing Maedhros, he said nothing, except a twitch of his eyes and probably a stroke from the way his jaw was clenched.

• All he could do was stand there and glare at the cloak like it had personally offended him. You could almost hear him mentally interrogating every hem: Why is it still on? Surely you’re warm now? Why haven’t you taken it off?

• He didn’t say anything more—at first. But then he casually added, “I don’t know why he still has that old thing. It’s probably infested with harp string fibres and misplaced poetry.”

• “You sound like the green-eyed monster over your brother caring for me,” you laughed. Clearly humoured by his ridiculous jealousy over a cloak. “I’m not jealous,” he said, so very, very calmly.

• Guaranteed, the next morning, a folded russet cloak with a faint scent of pine and iron was left on your chair. Not a word. No note. But it was Maedhros-sized, finely stitched, warm, and unmistakably for you.

• “Just wear that next time,” he muttered later, when you asked. “At least it won’t smell like stage fright.”

• His brothers refused to let him live it down for weeks. Caranthir made snide commentary about “Maedhros establishing dominance through outerwear” while Celegorm fake-shivered, throwing his hand over his face, pretending to faint and yelled, “Lend me your cloak, Maglor! I’m cold and pretty!”

• At some point, when the two of you were walking, he gently brushed the cloak back from your shoulder and said quietly, “Mine would always fit better. Just saying.”

Turgon — you wore Fingon’s tunic

• You were seen exiting the stables wearing a deep green and gold tunic, far too big for you but artfully belted—evidently Fingon had offered it after your riding shirt got soaked in the rain.

• And your broody lover was chatting with a courtier when he noticed. The conversation just ended mid-sentence as he simply…walked off. Leaving the poor elf awkwardly blinking.

• “Is that Fingon’s?” he asked, cutting directly to the point with a sort of scowling majesty only a Nolofinwion could conjure.

• “It was either that or catching frostbite. He said it’s an old one.”

• “Clearly. The embroidery is years out of date.”

• You raised a brow at his pettiness. Typical coming from him. “You memorise his wardrobe rotations now?”

• “Of course not. That would be ridiculous,” he replied, while immediately changing the subject.

• That night, he insisted on giving you a new riding outfit “fit for your station,” a clear upgrade in quality, stitched with white and silver threads in a pattern resembling the stars of Varda. It was mysteriously delivered, but you knew who had commissioned it.

• “And burn that tunic!” he told Fingon later in a not-so-quiet voice, unaware you were within earshot. “Burn it, offer it to Ulmo, drown it in the sea—I don’t care!”

• His brother just laughed at the typical level of jealousy to be expected of his younger brother. “Jealous over the fact that your brother politely keep your beloved from freezing?”

• “Not of you, brother,” he sniffed. “Merely concerned for aesthetic decency.”

• That didn’t stop him from giving you his own formal robe, heavy with pearl-edged detailing, “just to wear when you visit court.” It trailed on the floor slightly, but he helped adjust it himself.

• “There. You see?” he said, clearly pleased once it was settled. “Now that is what elegance looks like.”

• After that, any garment Fingon wore mysteriously vanished if left unattended. Turgon claimed “laundry rotation” but no one believed him.

Finrod — you wore Angrod’s travelling robe

• You were chatting with some scholars in the library, wrapped in a soft ochre robe that swayed around your ankles, a little too broad at the shoulders, with faded trim. Angrod had loaned it to you when the mountain air turned chilly during an evening stroll.

• And in strolled Finrod mid-conversation, stopping in his tracks, tilting his head slightly, and staring at you as though you’d announced you were betrothed to a dragon.

• “I see. My brother has taken to clothing you?” That was a he said at first, so calmly and softly, it was too gentle of him which made you suspicious.

• “I was cold.”

• “So naturally, he assumed you lacked any protection from the elements and leapt in with his extensive robe collection.” He sat beside you and draped his arm dramatically along the back of your seat. “Touching.”

• Finrod remained poised but could not stop himself from prodding the sleeve of the robe like it was personally offensive. “Faded trim. Unlined seams. Is that a scorch mark?”

• “Cooking accident, apparently.”

• “He can’t cook. That’s the accident.”

• Before the day was over, you found a pristine white and gold cloak folded neatly in your room with a note in his handwriting: This won’t catch fire. Nor will it fall apart when you breathe near it. Yours – F.

• That evening, he pretended not to notice when you wore it, but he kept smiling quietly every time you passed by.

• He also casually mentioned in dinner conversation that “golden tones are too harsh for most complexions. It takes a rare one to wear them well.”

• Angrod rolled his eyes and muttered, “Try saying you’re possessive in fewer words.”

• “Oh, I’m not possessive,” Finrod replied brightly. “I’m refined. There’s a difference.”

• The next time you needed a cloak, he personally fastened it at your throat with a soft, self-satisfied hum. “You’ll never need to borrow Angrod’s again,” he told you firmly. “Unless you wish to disappear into mediocrity.”

• He also added, in a murmur as he leaned in, “If you wanted to wear something of mine, you need only ask. Preferably something I’ve washed recently.”

Ecthelion — you wore Glorfindel’s cloak

• The picture of calm grace when he entered the courtyard…until he saw you tucked on a bench by the window, a thick sapphire-blue cloak wrapped around your shoulders, lined with golden embroidery at the edges. The familiar clasp caught the light.

• He stopped mid-stride. Blinked. Then gave the cloak the kind of look reserved for mild insults to one’s dignity.

• “Is that Glorfindel’s?” he asked, a little too neutrally.

• “Yes—he lent it to me. I got caught in that storm on the way back from the eastern slope. My sleeves were soaked through.”

• He nodded too composed and sat beside you. Very close. “Mm. Practical. Warm. Slightly gaudy.”

• You tried not to smile. “You sound awfully green.”

• “I am not,” he said immediately—too quickly—eyes narrowed like a cat who just fell off a ledge but would rather die than admit it. “I am simply dismayed at your lack of appropriate aesthetic standards.”

• So casually, he flicked the hem over your knee. “These tassels look like they were stolen from a curtain.”

• You can pretty much guess that before the day was over, you got a new cloak—steel grey with blue silk lining, clasped with an elegant lily-shaped pin.

• “This is for you. So I don’t have to suffer the visual assault of that again,” he said, nodding toward Glorfindel’s cloak folded nearby. “You have delicate sensibilities. They ought to be dressed accordingly.”

• When Glorfindel found out, he just grinned and clapped Ecthelion on the back, saying, “Didn’t know I had competition in haberdashery.”

• “You don’t. You had a crisis in taste. It’s been resolved.”

• From then on, Ecthelion made a point of always having something to lend you himself—cloaks, scarves, gloves—just in case.

• “You’ll catch cold,” he’d say casually. “And Glorfindel’s wardrobe has suffered enough.”

Gil-Galad — you wore Elrond’s robe

• You walked into the high tower after a long ride from Imladris, bundled in a silver-grey robe with pale blue trim—clearly Elrond’s, given the slightly oversized sleeves and the scholar’s clasp at the collar.

• And when Gil-Galad had spotted yo u in that gaudy, atrocious attire, his entire face blanked. Then the scroll went down. “And what in the name of the Valar are you wearing?”

• “It was cold and Elrond had a spare.”

• “Fun that he has a spare,” he muttered, frowning. “You’re swimming in it. Is that embroidery? Are those herbs in the lining?” He leaned in, sniffed once, and grimaced. “You smell like a medicinal garden.”

• You chuckled. “It’s just sage. He said it helps with headaches.”

• “I have a headache now,” he deadpanned.

• Within the hour, he summoned a tailor and ordered a robe in rich midnight blue lined with velvet. “For official use,” he said grandly. “And warmth. And appearances. And taste.”

• Before you could even comment on his jealousy, he said immediately. “I simply believe rulers of realms should not go about looking like someone’s footman.”

• You wore the new robe the next day, and he looked excessively pleased.

• “Much better,” he said, looping his arm through yours with smug satisfaction. “Now people might actually mistake you for someone regal.”

• Later, when Elrond passed by and gave you a smile and a wave, Gil-Galad leaned closer and whispered, “You still don’t have his robe, do you?”

• “Yes.” “Burn it.” “No.”

• “…Fine. But if I catch you in anything that smells like lavender tincture, I’m confiscating it.”

• He’d pretend not to care, but every time he saw you even talking to Elrond while wearing something vaguely grey, he’d start fidgeting with his rings.

• Eventually, he gifted you a full wardrobe of deep blues, blacks, and rich emeralds—entirely coincidental, he claimed. “A royal should have options. Even if they’re not one yet.”

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[through-the-seas-to-valinor]

Maedhros trying to win back the trust of s/o

* You refused to speak to him and Maedhros couldn’t say he blamed you.

* After his rescue from imprisonment, he couldn’t get himself to act the same. You tried to be patient, tried to help him but all he would do is lash out at you with no apology. Still you stayed with him and tolerated it, knowing how badly he was hurt.

* It wasn’t until he insulted your humanity, saying you were a short-lived human who didn’t know anything and would never understand that you had enough and requested your own room to stay in and began to ignore him.

* It wasn’t until a month passed that Maglor had enough and confronted his brother about his stupidity.

* After Maglor finally managed to get through to Maedhros, he didn’t waste time in going to find you, trying to figure out how he would apologise along the way. 

* Your reaction hurt a bit, but it was expected. You slammed the door shut as soon as you saw him and even locked it after you. 

* When you passed each other by on the hallway all you would say is “Good day Lord Maedhros” and continue on your way. 

* This went on for another month before Maglor had to step in again, this time to persuade you to talk to his brother.

* So one day you sat there in the garden, listening to Maedhros trying to apologise to you that you gave in and decided to give him another chance. 

* Your relationship isn’t the same as what it used to be, both of you impacted in some way by his imprisonment. 

* But you start from scratch, learning about each other again, and at the end, your relationship is that much stronger for taking the time to start over. 

[sh1-n0bu]

while thinking of new hobby to pick up, i just had the most stupid idea ive ever had in a while.

so,,,, maedhros hung off of a steep cliff by his wrist for 30 years right? and theres an advanced and crazier level of rock climbing known as free climbing, right? imagine a human of this day and age who goes free climbing on their free hours being sucked into the silmarillion and coming across maedhros. the elf — as per elven style — is all woes and sadness like “leave this wretched place. keep thine head on thy shoulder” and human, free climber, a little bit nuts and could possibly be a monsterfucker reader just goes “nae… is a good cliff” and just starts scaling it like some demonic goat possessed them and maehros is just (⊙_⊙)

[elvinapandra]

POV : you have been scrolling for the past hour and all you see is SMUT

Please...life is lot more than fucking🙏🏻

[onthesandsofdreams]

Ever Love [3/?]

Fandom: The Silmarillion Pairing: Maedhros x Reader Prompt: #31 from @fictober-event

On AO3

You and Maitimo are standing still.

Eyes locked into each other's, the Gardens of Lórien seem to be silent. Waiting for either of you to make a move. When you had been told that Maitimo had asked to see you after his rebirt, a nervousness had seemingly made its home in your belly.

Now here you were.

Standing in front of the elf who had gone and followed his father away from you. To war, blood and ruin.

"It's always been you," he near whispers, but you catch it.

Your breath hitches, you still love him. And rush towards him.

[n0tamused]

heard u were desperate for elf asks and me, the local elf fucker, has decided to grace your life pookie😚

elves who have still yet to start their courting with their human s/o, finding pieces of themselves in their work room or finding their human passed out over a table. huffing about human fragility under their breaths, walking over to drag them back to their bed for a proper rest, freezes before their ears turn a cute pink because their sweet mortal was musing about them. whether it be poetry draft, painting, art, sculpture in process, embroidery — anything. and elves adore art, so this is like skipping straight to “will you marry me?” before starting their dating

A/n: thank you for stopping by once again Nobu! Please stop more often hdhfhhs <3 I do hope you like this pookie. I planned to put even more characters into this, but that would have been too much for one post, so I'll separate it into another post tehee

Content: Thranduil, Glorfindel, Maedhros x GN!Reader, fluff hcs, a tinge of angst in Maedhros' part (ofc)..

𓄃Thranduil

-The vast forests of Mirkwood held much beauty, and even more when one looked closer into them. The trees were one of a kind, holding memories of old and having seen rises and falls of  both elf and man. Yet they all remained steadfast, roots holding them upright. In the same manner, Thranduil held himself

-It was an image not many could ever hope to replicate, and a trait many aspired to have, like big fancy shoes one hopes to grow into

-And perhaps you have spent too long in the Woodland realm, you’ve learned a lot, but a lot more was waiting to be learned as well. It came to a boiling point where you were growing fussy with yourself for not having a pipe through which to blow your steam out through. There was so much beauty and lore, yet you couldn’t find a way to capture it all. And seeing all of this, your tense display, Thradnuil had gifted you paints and canvases and brushes, and a whole new room so well illuminated that you could even paint in it during the night, given you had a good candle with you. 

-It came as a relief, having your own space, yet you felt indebted to him as much as you felt flattered that the elven-king cared so much about your comfort. When he had approached you with the request to court you, he almost seemed aloof, despite his request holding many thoughtful words and his gifts showing even more care. But that could be just the little voice of the devil that came with courting one of the most important figures in Middle-Earth. You didn’t express this much to Thranduil, for he really did his best at meeting you halfway with the courting traditions of men and elves.

-In turn you decided to paint him. Or, at least, try to do so. It would be worth it. So you set out on this quest and holed yourself in the painting room, having selected a medium sized canvas and the best colors you could ever hope to pair up with one another. The initial layout looked good, with Tranduil standing in the woods, surrounded by greens, oranges and reds, wearing an outfit he recently wore when he took you out on a walk through the forest. There is also a large elk approaching him in the painting, but you saved the animal to be painted last. You had covered most of the canvas, nearly finished with the backdrop of multiple tree trunks and you were working your way to the foreground when your vision began to droop and blur.

-Raising your head you saw that it was well past sunset and you could no longer see the color on your canvas as well, your candle was flickering out.

-But your chambers seemed a world away, you could not bother to try your legs to walk the distance. And the next best thing was the bench in the room, usually reserved for any guests you may have hosted, but tonight it would be your bed. You moved the plush pillows and the blanket around until you were comfortable, and you finally shut your eyes for the last time that night.

-Thranduil had wandered in some time later, finding it rather odd that he hadn't seen you for the entire day, and the guards he asked about your whereabouts had little answers as well. But his instincts told him you’d be here.

-He went in with his lamp, alone venturing into your space and  seeing the canvas first. For half a heartbeat he half-expected to find you behind it, painting in the dark - humans had weird ways of doing things, he realized

-But once he went around it, he only saw an empty chair and unwashed brushes, crusted with paint. And the unfinished painting..

-His breath stopped in his throat, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer, shining the light of the lamp onto the canvas. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him, surely it wasn’t his likeness he was seeing in the sketch lying underneath the drying paint? But the worse option was to believe that it was another elf wearing his attire

-A soft hum snapped his focus away, and he turned to see you shifting in your sleep. It was then when he felt his ears begin to burn, his lips pushing into a thin line as he attempted to ease his heart from beating so terribly fast, too hard, he felt it beating against the bones of his ribcage

-He coughed into the palm of his hand then took a deep breath, approaching you after what felt like an eternity of waiting. It was in your shared interest that you sleep somewhere comfortable.. 

-Despite his racing thoughts, he did make it a point to talk to you in the morning about your courtship, perhaps this was your way to signal him that you were ready for the next stage..? 

☀︎Glorfindel

-There are not many things that can catch Glorfindel by surprise; he is a seasoned individual, both in the art of combat and in more mundane things. He has seen much, and more. His mind is not so closed off to the change in the world, and while he is used to planning things, strategizing, his mind does prefer to take life one day at a time. Let life be the present moment until tomorrow arrives.

-You came into his life rather unexpectedly, but he welcomed you all the same. What feelings began to brew he had hoped to keep secret for a while longer, but once he realized that things were not going to change and that his feelings were only growing, taking into account your mortality, he had approached you and asked to court you

-He delivered the speech elegantly, armed with his usual carefree and easy going demeanor, but once his breath fell short towards the end you could tell that this meant a lot to him. And stepping into this more intimate relationship with him felt much easier than expected, but now you just had much more affection from him, and you had the privilege of seeing him more as well

-It was only natural that your own nature led to you wanting, even needing, to preserve him in some form of a craft. To flatter him the same way he did you, or to simply have something to remind you of him when he wasn’t with you

-Poems you tried, but no word seemed sufficient enough to capture Glorfindel’s character. Art you tried too, but you proved not skilled enough to satisfy yourself with those results. So you turned to something else - embroidery. It wasn’t easy, but the process was more satisfying and the image that was slowly coming into reality made you much more happier than the other attempts at making something in the image of Glorfindel

-It was a bit of a challenge to discard the failed attempts from him, but embroidery was easier to deal with before the bigger image was beginning to materialize. ‘It’s only a little something I’m making…for decor!’ or ‘I wish to give my mother something as a gift’ and so on. Glorfindel did not distrust you on that. It made sense, and why would you hide anything from him, anyway?

-Perhaps you overestimated yourself with your human strength, staying night after night doing work or finishing the embroidery or being unable to sleep. But exhaustion finally caught up to you one evening as you were sitting by the hearth. The warmth of the fire was licking up your arms and the side of your face, tempting you to close your eyes, lulling you to sleep. And before you knew it, your heavy eyelids giving way to darkness to overtake you

-Glorfindel found you in your chair, chin on your chest and arms stretched down to your lap, fingers still touching the wooden hoop keeping the canvas in place. The needle was slipping from your fingers, hanging on by a thread. 

-Glorfindel shook his head and approached slowly, being light on his feet as he took the needle from your limb fingers. The thread pulled at the canvas as he picked it up, and it was then when he saw the picture you were making. His brows furrowed in focus and he felt more alert than a moment prior. He pried the wooden embroidery hoop from your hand and picked it up to take a closer look. Now that he thought of it, he hasn’t seen the progress made on this in a long while. 

-It was a field of golden flowers, carefully crafted with yellow thread and in the middle was a finished white horse, and a person - well most of them. They were unfinished and only the shoulders-down of the body was visible, but Glorfindel recognized the clothes as his own, and he could recognize Asfaloth in any format.

-He wasn’t caught by surprise often, he held and open and calm mind, but even if he had expected this, even if he did hope for this, it made his heart feel like bursting 

-He had to hold himself back from bowing down beside you, taking your sleepy face in his hands only to wake you up with a dozen of kisses

-Glorfindel really did his best to not cause a scene in that moment, and after a moment of simply admiring the artwork and tracing the pads of his fingers over the thread on canvas, his smile only growing, he had to remind himself that you were still asleep in a chair. And your back wouldn’t be thanking you in the morning for that

-After setting aside your embroidery, he gently picked you up and carried you to bed, smiling all the way and feeling how his chest swam with joy and a feeling he could only describe as a well-stuffed feather bed

-He laid you down, bringing the covers over you and for a moment longer he just admired you, having so much to tell you, but he settled with a kiss to your cheek for now, making a note to himself to make a better gift for you, and to ask for your hand soon.

⚔︎Maedhros

-There was little place for a human in Maedhros’ life, even as wars came and went and brought before him countless faces only for him to see them fall before him in the days following. He has seen much, too much, but there was only one path in his life, and it lay ahead of him.  Yet, even his path wasn’t made wholly of only the things he knew. There were things changing, with him and around him

-It was strange to have someone with him. Ever since you came into his life Maedhros had slowly begun to adjust the ways when it came to interacting with you, and what  chats you two had always managed to take his mind off of the constant battles and the Oath. It took a longer time for him to realize it and come to terms with his feelings, but once he did he plucked up whatever strength and elegance he could summon. He remembered the person he was before coming here, before everything, and he did his best to emulate that stability and a bit more cheerful demeanor. How much that works.. well you can imagine. But that does not mean he was bad at it, just not as good as enthusiastic as he imagined he’d be </3 He does think about it later and does wonder if you would have preferred if he asked in some other fashion

-Maedhros visits you when he can, although the truly private times between the two of you are far and few between with such a big host of people following him and waiting on his orders. He does treasure any moment he has with you. He hold your hand and kisses the inside of your wrists before he has to depart, kisses your forehead when he comes to see you and sits right besides you for as long as he is with you

-His heart had grown much more fond of you, it feels alive and the scars he bears nearly feel non-existent when he’s around you

-And little by little, you manage to get the old Maedhros from underneath the rubble. He had  taken habit to calling you ‘his light’ in elvish, among some other endearments

-It was a late night when he came to visit you, and he did expect he might not find you awake at the hour but he tried his luck regardless as he went into your chambers. Despite your earlier claims that ‘he doesn’t need to knock’ he knocked anyway, only opening the door when he got no response.

-And there you were. Sitting at your little table (although everything average to us is little to Maedhros-) with your head on your arms. A quil rested between your fingers, and a blotch of ink was left both on paper and the wooden surface. As much as it was endearing at first, Maedhros couldn’t help but worry. He hurried in, carefully closing the doors and peering at your face before he agreed with that little voice in his head - you were fine, just asleep.

-His large palm tenderly caressed your upper back, coaxing your sleepy self to move just enough until the point he could pick you up without jostling you around too much. Your bed was just beside the table, so after he had settled you in, he smiled at the  thought of your stubbornness to leave your work corner. He knew you could be stubborn beyond measure, especially about things that you held dear to heart

-Not wanting to depart yet, he went back to your table to see what he could do with the spilled ink and scattered papers

-He found a towel nearby and used it to suck up the wet ink - the dry splotches were beyond his skill. It was quiet work, but he found his mind wandering, one might even call it relaxing. 

-He was picking up papers absentmindedly, not wishing to overstep your own trust by peering into whatever it is you scribbled down

-And he held onto that thought until he glimpsed something he couldn’t ignore. Since when did you know elvish?

-It suddenly came into view, the papers he held in hand were all letters in elvish, although each stroke revealed you were a novice in the language, but he also saw effort and thoughtfulness. The first page began with ‘Dear Maedhros’ and then the rest continued on into a poem. Maedhros thought he was dreaming, and had to glimpse outside the window to remind himself where he was 

-He read through and found himself falling apart from within. Each line, each word, addressed to him held so much love and care, it meant more than any song some bard could sing of his valor in battle. And it was written by you - and you’ve seen how ugly he could be, yet you wrote how you loved him all.

-He was probably as red as his hair, but his lips also twisted downwards in this pout-like expression keeping tears at bay. His heart felt full, too full for him to manage. Maedhros doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this. And with his curiosity sparked, he peered into the crumbled letters scattered around, finding even more verses that were unfinished. On the corner of the table was a thick book, almost crumbling to ashes from how old it looked, but he recognized it as the first book holding the alphabet of men and elves, translations and grammatical rules to follow

-Maedhros sat down, not trusting his legs to keep him upright anymore, holding the letters to his chest.

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[floatyflowers]

You are the daughter of Sauron and everyone is obsessed with you as they are obsessed with the rings.(Part 1)

"Everyone was aware that falling in love with you was madness, given your father's identity. Still, no one minded as long as they could have you by their side."

Morgoth/Melkor

He is obsessed with you as much as he is obsessed with the Silmarils.

Doesn't care if you are the daughter of his servant, he wants you.

Despite your refusal of Morgoth's advences, Sauron encourages you, and wanting to please your father, you decided to try and please Melkor.

"Your soul and body are mine like those silmarils"

He crafted a necklace made out of one of the Silmarils, gifting it to you as a token of your unity.

Thankfully, the Valar captured him after the battle of Wrath, however you already left him before the battle.

Maedhros

You met him while he was in Thangorodrim, getting tormented by your father.

At that time Morgoth was imprisoned in Angband, so you were free from his obsessed jealousy.

However, after seeing the handsome red-haired elf for the first time, you decided to take care of him and try to free him, feeling sympathy and gulit.

After freeing him with the help of his cousin Fingon who had to cut off his hand to free him, Maedhros tried to convince you to escape with him, as you handed him the Silmaril Morgoth gave you.

"Come with me, you will find peace away from your father's clutches"

And you did leave with him when you realize how awful Sauron is.

But your decision is like falling into another trap.

As Maedhros appeared to be the same as Morgoth in causing violence.

Celebrimbor

After discovering what Maedhros and his brothers have done to their kin, you fled without a second thought.

And as years passed, you kept yourself hidden wandering alone, until you met Celebrimbor whom you find his knowledge remarkable.

You thought of leaving when you discovered that he is the nephew of Maedhros, but his generosity tempted you to stay, and you did.

Honestly, you thought you found peace with him in the safety of his home, but that was never the case, Celebrimbor was possessive and refused to let you leave.

He crafted special rings to keep you safe from danger, and also to keep you in love with him.

"Your pain, your pleasure, your every thought belongs to me. You're mine to command and possess."

Celebrimbor thought he owned you, until Annatar 'Sauron' came into the picture and corrupted Celebrimbor into making the rings.

Sauron/Annatar 'platonic'

Sauron didn't realize how much you meant to him until you ran away.

He almost went insane and never stopped searching for you.

So, when he encountered Celebrimbor, he didn't expect to see you, and deep down it steered horrible jealousy at the sight of you, his only child, happy with Celebrimbor.

Adding to this, he noticed Celebrimbor's obessesive behavior towards you and how he tried to keep you away from his sight.

What is more amusing to Annatar is that you didn't discover his disguise.

So, he decided to reveal it to you.

"How sad that you don't remember your father, my sweet child"

You warn Celebrimbor about your father before handing him the rings he made for you and leaving.

Elrond

You knew Elrond since Maglor, brother of Maedhros, was the one fostered him and his twin brother, Elros.

So, seeing him after so many years surprised you and what made you feel shy is the fact that he invited you to stay with him at his realm.

You decided to take on his offer because you didn't want to keep on wandering in the middle earth after you did for many years.

Actually, you came to his realm after his wife decided to leave to the Undying Lands.

And Elrond is the only one who felt like he wanted to marry you but he decided not to act on it to not frighten you.

Especially after everything you told him about others 'locking you up' and 'refusing to let you leave'

Actually he witnessed how his foster Uncle treated you, so he understood where you are coming from.

"Do not worry, Nin meld, you are safe here with me, I promise to protect you from any danger."

[witchofhimring]

To you who is lost (Masterlist) Coming soon!

Synopsis:

They tell the story of the men and handful of women who left Valinor, out of bliss and into woe. But this is the tale of those they left behind. Their wives and daughters lament alongside the Valar in their grief. They may fight no battles, but their trials are just as heartbreaking.

One of these women is Y/n. Already an outsider in this family Y/n finds herself an outsider in the court of Finarifin. Her husband and father-in-laws actions are condemned her. Although Prince Finarfin supports her Y/n must find a way to stand on her own accord.

Pairings: Maedhros x Reader

(Minor) Maglor x OC, Celegorm x Aredhel, Feanor x Nerdanel, Curufin x OC, Caranthir x OC, Fingolfin x Anaire, Finrod x Amarie, Finarfin x Earwen

Warnings: angst, abandonment, mentions of divorce, pregnancy, childbirth

Chapters:

Duty is the death of love

The girl with daisies

Throw up those stone walls

More to come!

[lamemaster]

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:

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

[glykerniaz]

The Ashamed Corner

ᅠᅠ 𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ pre-angban!maedhros x top!reader ⋆.˚ ⠀𓄼

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ✎ᝰ. ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 

( synopsis. ) You have been Maedhros' lover for a long time. You and him often have different experiences together, including sex, and this time you want to make it a little more exciting to relieve some of the pressure on him..

( tags. ) top!reader , bottom!maedhros , lick , climax , male reader , semi-public , smut , lick-nipples , blowjob , oral sex , semi-public sex , multiple ejaculation.

( a/n. ) I'm sorry I'm late, but sir, I've already submitted your work. @sh1-n0bu

Maedhros, the red-haired elf, let out a sweet moan as he squirmed uncontrollably.

His trembling legs were wrapped tightly around your waist, as if desperately clinging to you in this embarrassing situation.

His sweet voice broke in spurts as your invasive tongue toyed with his lips.

His soft opening clenched your massive shaft like a starving beggar savoring his last meal. He was too shy to even look you in the eye.

Maedhros never expected to be pinned against a secluded street corner like your little whore, like he was your plaything.

And it was even more shameful when anyone passing by might see them.

"D-don't tease me!"

His flushed ears twitched adorably, just like his massive cock in your hand as you roughly violated his beautiful rear and battered his prostate.

Your impossibly huge cock made the red-haired elf prince feel like he was in heaven.

The more sounds of passing elves there were, the tighter Maedhros gripped your shaft.

His moans were melodic and cute, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes like works of art.

His muscular frame trembled and pressed against the brick wall of the street corner.

His hands clawed at the wall, leaving marks.

Our lips tried to stifle the moans but often failed, as you kept kneading and tugging at his pink nipples, fucking him until he saw the stars of the Varda behind his eyelids.

Maedhros would bet that if you kept this up, and if he were a woman, he might have gotten you pregnant by now, dozens of times over.

Shameful, but delightful.

Your relentless assault had reduced his stress to nothing but carnal bliss.

"Harder!! Hnng-ahhh, d-do it again!"

"Harder! Ah, ah, ah-I'm going to come!!"

He cried out shamelessly, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth, hair disheveled.

Not even in a bedroom, and you'd fucked him to completion twice already.

"Good boy, come for me."

"Let everyone know who you belong to."

You growled in your throat, gritting your teeth at him as he clung to you so tightly your cock could barely move inside him, his beautiful ass clenching and fluttering like a wanton harlot.

"Ahhh, aaaaahhh!"

And with indescribable bliss, your beautiful prince came, splattering his thighs.

His ass gripped your cock tightly, just as it had hoarded your previous release inside him.

His pants on the ground were stained with his own seed.

His back arched off the wall in the street, pulling your hair down to kiss you hungrily.

His eyes were hazy and dreamy, like he was in a trance.

"My prince," you murmured in his ear, peppering his cheek with kisses, still rolling your hips to tease his pliant, fluttering hole.

He panted, boneless, but his legs remained wrapped tightly around your waist, as if it were instinctual and natural.

When you brutally assaulted his prostate, making him moan like a deflowered princess, his hand weakly came up to lightly bat at your chest.

"Ahhh~ Satisfy me, you wicked demon!"

Maedhros gently pushed at your chest, as you kept kissing and nuzzling his skin, insatiable. "Hngg—l..let me catch my breath..."

You ignored him, continuing to lavish attention on his curves, like a woman's.

Your mouth latched onto his nipple, as if trying to suckle from it.

"You're insatiable! Ahhh!"

His hand tangled in your hair, pressing your head harder against his chest.

His softened cock was rising again between his legs as his freshly relaxed hole began clenching and fluttering around your massive shaft once more.

You set to work again, and he could only bury his face shyly in the crook of your neck.

He pleaded to Eru that this wouldn't be the last time you fucked him in this secluded street corner, in public.

And that no one would ever know what was being done to him.

He was so ashamed.

But when he got home, he'd ride you until you were spent!

dividers ➵ @.chachachannah @.anitalenia @.cafekitsune

[maedhrosiseverything2me]

Y/N comparing her small hand with Maedhros big hand(the left one obviously) and giggling.

Maedhros:

Maedhros: Marry me please.

[doodle-pops]

Hiii Mina! Absolutely adore your content, binge-reading it rn

Imagine the elves have a so that has a little diary. Every day around the same time, they pull out this tiny leather bound book and write for a bit (maybe they hide it somewhere, in the cupboards or under their pillow lol). Which elves would be rlly curious and open it, and which would wait to see if their so tells them about it? Ty for reading

Can't resist snooping

— Feanor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, Amras, Fingon, Argon, Egalmoth, Maeglin, Thingol, Beleg, Elladan

Respects your privacy (but curious)

— Maedhros, Maglor, Celebrimbor, Fingolfin, Turgon, Finarfin, Finrod, Angrod, Aegnor, Galdor, Rog, Ecthelion, Glorfindel, Gwindor, Gil-galad, Elrond, Elrohir, Erestor

[mur4sak1]

How would elves behave during an argument?

A/N: Remember that English is not my first language so I hope I wrote in the best way <3

Characters: Rog, Galdor, Glorfindel, Maedhros, Legolas (bonus)

Rog: guys, this elf would be really scary. Contrary to what you might think, he would lose his temper very easily; he works all day in the darkness of the forges and when he leaves he just wants to have a good rest, so further stress from an argument would drive him out of his mind. He's the typical person who screams without thinking twice and says things he doesn't mean in anger. His way would destroy you every time, making you burst into tears from how bad he made you feel... but as soon as he saw a small tear running down your face he fell silent, forgetting everything that was happening; Was it him who made you like this? He was making the only person who loved him and who had always supported him in his darkest moments cry. He would stay still for some time, with a thousand thoughts in his head when a louder sob from you would bring him back to reality. He would apologize to you but he would do it without meeting your gaze, he is suffering too much for what he did and he wouldn't have the courage to see your destroyed expression. But you knew that he loves you more than anything after all. With difficulty you would get up and hug him as tight as possible, telling him that everything was fine, that you knew he didn't think those things and that you loved him... You couldn't see his face, but a tear fell from his eyes.

Galdor: NOW LET'S ALL GIVE A HUG TO THIS WONDERFUL ELF TOGETHER. He would always try to find a solution peacefully, without discussions and the need to argue, but if this happens you should not fear anything from him. He would NEVER scream, he would NEVER raise his voice, he would NEVER say anything mean to you just to hurt you or win the argument. I mean, it would be fantastic. Maybe due to particular circumstances you would have become so upset that you felt angry against the elf, but in any case he would have spoken to you in a calm and reasonable tone, making you understand that you didn't need to react that way. If the pain brought you to tears, he would hug you and console you like a defenseless child, helping you and trying to get you to vent so that he could fully understand what was troubling you so as to avoid misunderstandings. Galdor would have been able to understand and love you more than anyone else, always.

Glorfindel: It was rare to argue with the blond elf, but sometimes it happened and the situation became quite lively. Glorfindel always tried to keep his problems to himself and not involve others because he was convinced that difficult moments should only be faced with those you love. Furthermore, he certainly wanted to avoid all that useless gossip that many elves had on any topic that might attract their curiosity. Although his character was often extroverted and playful even in the saddest situations for this reason, when he argued with you it wasn't uncommon to hear shouts and snorts coming from your rooms. They would not be screams that expressed malice, but screams that asked to be listened to; it was natural for him to raise his voice when he wasn't listened to and in that way he expressed all his frustration and the pain that the discussion with you was bringing him. He always acted for your good and feeling attacked made him suffer, he wondered what he was doing wrong, what more did you want from him. But the intense mix of emotions inside him prevented him from acting rationally, forgetting how to express them and focusing only on everything you said. After a long time arguing like this you would have reached the point of being exhausted and progressively raising your voice would have left you breathless. You would stop to breathe for a fraction of seconds, with the certainty that everything would soon start again. But after rubbing your eyes, you looked at your elf's face and saw in him all the pain that he was trying to say to you through his tone of voice; his fists were clodes, his head was bowed, his forehead shiny with sweat and a few blond hairs stuck to it. In an instant you understood everything... You breathed a heavy sigh and quickly approached him to hug him, starting to beg him to forgive you and sobbing heavily between one apology and another... Caught off guard, after a few seconds he relaxed his arms and reciprocated the hug. Finally he let himself go to his feelings; he rested his head on your head and the wet of sweat combined with the wetness of a few tears. So he was able to express everything he felt and only at that point would you be able to clarify and return to being happy and in love as always "I just want to always be perfect for you".

Maedhros: I'm sure fights with the red-head would be very peaceful. Having grown up in a large family and in the role of an older brother, he had developed a lot of patience thanks to which he could easily handle any type of conflict with you. Contrary to what many might think, after Angbad Mae would not have vented the pain on you with shouts and insults, but quite the opposite. After the terrible torture he suffered, the only thing he wanted was to feel accepted and in you he found his salvation; in all the darkest moments where his mind couldn't differentiate reality from dreams you were there by his side to help him, without ever making him feel wrong and making him understand how strong he was to have overcome such a trauma. For this reason, he would feel like a terrible elf during arguments. He only wanted to offer you the support that you represented to him every day but instead he felt more like a burden to you. This would make him cry a lot, but in silence and alone, because he feared that with every little clash you would abandon him. He just needed time, time to understand that you would never, ever abandon him; you always told him that you loved him more than anyone else and that he needed your support to be able to return to the sweet, confident elf he once was, and you would do anything to help him. Needless to say, every time the arguments were resolved without even face them... there was too much love that bound your hearts to ruin it for superficial reasons.

BONUS. Legolas: So, I honestly see Legolas as the kind of elf who would be capable of walking away during an argument. Perhaps due to stress, lack of patience or lack of desire for confrontation, he could stop the conversation, pick up and leave the place where you were. But in reality his behavior would be the solution to the problem. In fact, the much anger that you had accumulated would have faded with distance and the passage of time and would have made both of you understand how much you cared for each other. Solitude would have helped Legolas to think clearly about the problem and find a possible solution to make them both happy. When you met again you would have made peace, both apologizing for your abrupt ways and organizing something to spend the evening together.

[animatorweirdo]

Feanorians: Being Their Soulmate...

Different soulmate troupes with the Feanorians.

Requested by Anon

Hi animatorweirdo!

Can I send in a request for different soulmate tropes for the Feanorians and when they find their soulmate? (for example, tropes like the red-string of fate, timer countdown, having a tattoo that symbolizes them on your body, etc).

Thank you so much and I can't wait to see what you come up with!!

(Author note: I didn't do Curufin and the twins as I could not come up with anything with them. )

Warnings: mentions of the book events, mentions of Maedhros's captivity, loss of a hand, separation, reluctance, the oath, doom, and rejection.

--------------------------------------------------------

Maedhros —  Tattoo 

- Maedhros would have a small tattoo on the back of his right hand, right below his thumb and index finger. He would have been confused the first time it appeared, but then he would be excited when his parents or someone else told him it was the mark of his soulmate. 

- He had been given a tattoo that represented his soulmate. His soulmate would bear a tattoo on the same spot that represented him and he would know once he had seen them. 

- Growing up in Valinor he would check people’s hands to see if they had a tattoo on the same spot as him. 

- If you two met in Valinor, he would find a small star on the back of your right hand below your thumb and index. 

- He would be delighted to have finally found you, and most likely would have not hesitated to get to know you and start a relationship with you. His family would be happy for him. 

- However, if you two met in Middle Earth. His feelings about finding his soulmate would be much more complicated. 

- For example, the great enemy mocking the mark of his soulmate and threatening to find them would have left him reluctant to ever find his soulmate. Losing his right hand would have solidified his decision. 

- He would stare at his missing hand from time to time, remembering the mark of his soulmate. He would hope his soulmate would never find him as his reputation would certainly tarnish theirs. 

- If you two did manage to meet, he would feel strange pulling toward you. If you two clicked very well, he would mistake it for simple crushing or fondness. However, that would not be the case when he sees the star on your right hand. 

- Realizing you were his soulmate would cause him to distance himself away from you, startled and anxious to realize you were his one. He would then make a hard decision, to either give himself this chance to feel your love or push you away and possibly save you from the doom that followed him. 

- If he decided to embrace the fact and allow himself to be selfish just once, Maedhros would not reveal you were soulmates but enjoy your company. He would have decided to enjoy it while it lasted because relationships would not last during wars. His feelings for you would have grown but he would have kept it as a good friendship, and it would have hurt less when you two had to separate. 

- If he decided to distance himself and cut ties with you, his soul would ache for your presence and he would feel miserable for causing you to feel sad and confused by his sudden distance. He would have most likely been harsh and explained that you two couldn’t talk to each other, growing the drift between you. 

- Making you leave would be the hardest decision he had ever made. However, it would ease his soul to know you would not be doomed by him and his oath. 

- If there was a chance Eru took pity on you, he would either allow you to meet again in better circumstances or let you have someone else for a soulmate. 

Maglor — Red string of fate

- (Because I think Maglor would love tragic love stories, the red string of fate would be fitting for him.)

- Maglor would be blooming with excitement when one day he saw a red string attached to his finger. He would have read all about the red string of fate and would have most likely been eager to go on an adventure to find his soulmate, the red string being his guide. Unfortunately, he was too young to go on his own. 

- Growing up, he would occasionally check on the red string to see if his soulmate was nearby as the red string would extend or become more clear when his soulmate was near. 

- If you two met on Valinor, it would have happened during a party or one of his performances. He would be surprised to see the red string suddenly become visible and lead his eyes upon you. However, it would not have been an unwelcome surprise and he would have jumped on the first chance to talk with you. 

- His search would finally be over after meeting you and his family would have to suffer his constant serenading of finding his soulmate. 

- However, if you met on Middle Earth, his feelings would be slightly reluctant, but not opposed to it. 

- After the whole kin slaying and burning of the boats, he would have wished he would not find his soulmate. The red string went more distant, but he would be surprised to find the red string showing itself more one day. 

- He would be curious to find them and one day when he met you, he would feel happy. 

- He would be more open about revealing being his soulmate and having a relationship with you. However, since he and his kin were at war with Morgoth, the relationship would have to be kept as a secret. 

- However, if he decided you two would be better off without each other. He would send you away with good wishes and hopes that fate would allow you to meet again, and thus ends the tragic love story.

 

Celegorm — Dreams/Led by your pets

- As a hunter, I think Celegorm would have a prophetic dream about an animal that would lead him to his soulmate. 

- In his dreams, he would see an animal he is meant to find and follow to find his soulmate. He is a free spirit so he might find the dreams and the thought of having a soulmate slightly annoying. 

- However, if he came to meet with the said animal from his dreams he would not be opposed to following it and seeing what would happen. And when that happens, Huan would go missing and ignore his calls. 

- He would then find you with the animal and Huan who had led you to him. Perhaps that time, he would be more open and excited when he locked his eyes with you, especially if you two met in the woods of Valinor and the animal turned out to be your companion. 

- However, if you met in Middle Earth, I do not think Celegorm would not hesitate to have a relationship with you. If you both were hunters I think the relationship would go pretty smoothly. 

- But, if the oath comes between you, Celegorm might let you go in order for you to be safe from danger, or if you do not agree, and that he made it clear he would not give up the oath even for you. 

- Separation from you might cause him to become slightly more violent, but the thought of you being somewhere safe might ease it just a bit. 

Caranthir — Timer

 - A timer would suit Caranthir. 

- He would have been very confused when one day he found a clock drawn on his hand and it would not go away no matter how much he washed. 

- It would take both his parents to explain he had received a soulmate clock, which tells how long it would take to meet his soulmate: the more hours and minutes the farther away and the less how close his soulmate is. 

- The idea would not wrap around his head for a while, especially if the clock showed several hours, which only meant his soulmate was nowhere near. 

- He would be thrilled to find out when his clock reveals fewer minutes and would look around in curiosity till he found you. 

- I think he would be slightly shy, but would not avoid you. If you two click and you show your timer, then it would be the start of a beautiful relationship.

- However, if you two met on Middle Earth, he would be skeptical about having a relationship with you. 

- Seeing there was no hope after his reputation as a kin slayer and war with Morgoth, he saw it would be best not to seek out his soulmate. 

- So, imagine the shock he would feel when he finds his timer running toward the end and eventually finding you. 

- In some parts of his soul he would have been thrilled, but due to his unfortunate circumstances, he might avoid revealing about being your soulmate. However, due to the tugging in his soul, he might make a friendly relationship with you. 

- He would feel ease from his anger, and it would slightly hurt him to know he might have to separate from you. 

- He would enjoy it while it lasted, before sending you off with heartfelt goodbyes. 

Celebrimbor — A strand of hair

- Celebrimbor would be surprised to find a strand of his hair had turned into a different color, but would be delighted when he learned it was the clue of his soulmate and that his soulmate would have a strand of his hair color. 

- He would not mind walking around with the new color and sometimes styling it while searching for the one who had his hair color. 

- If you two met on Valinor, it would be joyful. 

- However, if you two met on Middle Earth, his feelings on the matter would have died down. 

- But when he suddenly meets you one day and sees the dark strand of hair across your hair. He became frightened as he could feel tugging from within his very soul. 

- He should feel happy by his kin’s standards. He had been blessed by chance to meet his soulmate, but his past and the reputation of his house had left him reluctant. He had hidden the color of your hair in hopes he might not accidentally meet you or anyone who might figure out who his soulmate is. In his mind, you were not worthy to get tarnished by his house’s past, but fate, of course, has worked against him. 

- However, if you were not intimidated by his past, Celebrimbor’s fear might vanish and he might entertain the idea of getting to know you. It would take a lot of time to convince himself to finally reveal your hair color on his hair, and wait for your reaction as your hair colors would match and return to normal.

- If you were happy by the reveal, Celebrimbor might then be confident enough to have a relationship with you. However, he would let you go if you weren't eager by the reveal and decided to leave. He would not blame you, but he would feel a painful aching for your presence and heartache for your rejection.

[batsyforyou]

Squishing and Kissing the Elves Cheeks pt.2

Tags: dramatic form of affection, crack?

Author's Note: this is the current highest winning and I just decided to do Eonwe, this one as well as the pokémon one and the other. So, basiclly everything lol.

Taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese

Squishing and kissing Maeglin’s cheeks 

He has a very thin face so there isn’t much to grab and pinch but when you do grab and squish his face (much to his shock and horror) he’ll gape at you. And when you kiss him? He is so caught off guard he’ll shove you away in a panic. Red finger prints on his pale cheeks and with his labored breathing he’ll look like a cornered animal. 

He’ll demand to know what you were doing, “I was just trying to love on you, love.” You say. 

“Oh.” He gulps, his cheeks flaring with color. “Could you, could you do that again?” 

Essentially he is that meme, “What is this? Affection? Disgusting, do it again.” 

Squishing and kissing Turgon’s cheeks

He is beyond embarrassed 

Hates PDA so if you so much as reach to cup his face while outside he’ll flinch back so hard his face would catch fire. (blushing)

He’ll snap his head around while covering his mouth and look to see if any of his siblings saw you and if no one even glances in his direction he’ll calm down. 

If you try to squish his cheeks alone he’ll be just as embarrassed so he’ll pull back some while mumbling a complaint about having to bend down so far 

But don’t worry all you have to do is jut out your bottom lip and pout before he gives in. 

Letting you pinch and kiss his cheeks as he listens to your giggles with red ears. 

Squishing and kissing Maglor’s cheeks (Not finished) 

“Magpie?” 

“Yes, my dear?” 

Slowly approaches, “Would you be upset if I stole a few minutes of your time?” 

“Not at all!” Glancing up from his music sheets he cocked his head, “My love, I can hear your heart beating from here. What has sent your heart a flutter?” 

Frowning he scooted his chair back, “Celegorm hasn’t done something has he?” 

Giggling, you shook your head, “No, no! I just, you're so cute.” 

He smiled, patting his lap, and you hurriedly took his invitation, lifting your skirt over his legs to comfortably settle against his chest. “I do believe that is a trait to describe you.” 

Giggling, you pushed your face into the crook of his neck as he held you in his embrace. After a few minutes cuddling you pushed yourself back a little to meet his eye. 

Reaching up you squished his cheeks together and kissed his nose and other random spots on his face. 

With one more smacking kiss to his lips you grin, bumping his nose with yours, “I love you.” 

Running his thumb over the apple of your cheeks he looked up at you with admiration in his eyes. 

“I love you, enterally.” 

Squishing and kissing Maedhros’s cheeks 

You’ll have to wait and make sure the elf is sitting at his desk if you even want to attempt getting him with your dramatic affection. Thinking Maedhros will shove you off you act fast, giggling as you rush to his side. 

“Melda? What are you-” Quickly taking a hold of his cheeks you squish them together and give him one singularly wet, smacking kiss and race off, laughter trailing in your wake. 

Stunned and confused, Maedhros ponders exactly what happened, a slow smile growing on his lips. 

By the next morning you were struggling to move from your bed, sitting at your bedside and staring at your bedroom floor, no thoughts were entering your mind. Seeing you on the bed Maedhros smirks, yanking on his belt to make sure it's secure he leans over to you and pinches your cheek with his one hand, leaving a passionate kiss onto your lips. 

“There.” He says. “Easy pickings.” 

It very quickly turns into a game of Cat and Mouse. 

It’ll happen in the corridors, at the dinner table and any place that holds no political importance. Leaving his brothers to roll their eyes and groan at their brothers show of sickening affection. 

And as the oldest, nothing makes him more happy, annoying his brothers and loving on his love. 

Squishing and kissing Curufin’s cheeks

You slowly approached him, taking careful sure-footed steps into his office you observed his still form. The constant scratch of his quill acted as a lure to distract your husband from what was about to happen. Feeling laughter bubble inside your chest you tightly bit your lips, 

So close ….. 

The elf grunted, “Don’t even think about it.” 

Feeling your ballooned excitement pierce with a pop, you sighed, his words mimicking his brother’s skill in archery. 

“How did you know?” 

Crossing your arms you gave up on being sneaky, instead strutting right up to his desk and plopping your butt on the corner. 

Counting his papers he licked his fingers and pulled a fresh paper from the stack, “Your first mistake was thinking that I would not recognize your presence in a room. To think I would not recognize your footfalls and the subtle minute traces of your scent, is insulting.” 

You raise a brow staring at him and as the minutes ticked on he sighed, “I could hear you through the wall.” 

You groan, dropping your back to stare at his intricately designed ceiling. Of freaking course he did. 

“Please Curufin? Please, let me have this.” 

Circling a set of numbers he marked Caranthir’s name beside it. 

“No.”

You pouted, “Pretty please? I won’t ask you for anything else all year!” 

“We both know that will never happen.” 

“Curufin.” You beg. 

Dropping his quill he rubbed at his temples, “Would it really make you that happy?” 

“Yes!” 

Sighing he leaned into his chair, burying his fingers into the fabric of his sleeves. 

“Fine.” 

Squealing you grabbed his face and planted a big fat kiss on him. Enjoying every minute  he lets you squish and kiss his cheeks. 

Squishing and kissing Erestor’s cheeks  

Pulls away almost immediately, the elf is snapping his face anyway from you so fast you practically hear the neck snap audio. 

He is so red in the face because he is so angry at himself for actually enjoying it and he feels so embarrassed over the fact that he can feel something grow in his heart. And just knowing that he likes being cooed at and loved so “Childishly” with a dramatic flair, he doesn’t want to look at himself. He is a hardened soldier who faced countless battles and struggles in his long immortal life. So being handled like that by you feels so good and so wrong at the same time. 

Essentially, he is that meme where people go, “This better not awaken anything in me.” lol 

Squishing and kissing Caranthir’s cheeks

Slamming the door to your shared chambers Cara grunted, yanking at his tunic and muttering under his breath. 

Peeking over the sofa you watched your love with interest, setting aside the book you’d been reading. 

“Cara?” 

Taking his boots he stepped on the heels, slipping his feet out and kicking them to the side. 

You tried again. 

“Cara, my love?” 

He grunted, near snorting at you as he fumbled with the buttons, struggling to pop them. His face stood as a testament to his mood, a blister red and his ears seemingly twitching at the heat. 

“Oh, my sweet baby.” You call. “Come sit and I’ll help you.” 

Ignoring you, he huffed and yanked at his clothes with the strength only an elf could carry. The fabric ripping off his back and shoulders, Caranthir pulled the garment from his arms and sighed. 

Finally free of his clothes, save his leggings, Caranthir trudged towards your spot on the couch and climbed into your lap, hiding his face in your stomach. 

Frowning, you gently reached into the small box under the side table and pulled a small brush from its contents. Humming a lullaby in a soothing tone you removed his braids and pins and brushed his hair until the tension in his back melted away. 

“Hard day?” You asked. 

The rumble of his voice hid itself in the folds of your shirt. “Worse than you know.” 

Pushing himself onto his back he rolled over to look up at you.

“Can you?” 

Grinning you tossed the brush into its box and took a hold of cheeks, “I’d love too.”

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