#male reader x Elrond

[elrondsimp]

Elrond x M! Reader

“Dad”

Arwen was in the kitchen with her father's boyfriend, Y/n, cooking up a delicious meal for the family. As she reached for an ingredient, she turned to Y/n and said, "Can you hand me the salt, Dad?" As soon as the word slipped out of her mouth, Arwen froze. She hadn't meant to call Y/n "Dad". But there was something about the way he had been there for her and her father that made her feel like he was a part of the family.

Y/n stopped what he was doing and looked at Arwen with a gentle smile. "It's okay," he said, handing her the salt. "I'm happy to be a part of your family, Arwen." Feeling embarrassed and guilty for the slip of the tongue, Arwen stuttered out an excuse, saying she wasn't thinking. But Y/n just gave her a warm hug and told her not to worry about it.

Unbeknownst to them, Elrond had been standing in the other room, listening to the exchange. When he heard Arwen call Y/n "Dad", his heart swelled with pride and happiness.

He knew that Y/n had been a wonderful influence on his daughter, and seeing them together like this only confirmed it. Elrond couldn't help but smile from ear to ear as he watched them cook together, feeling grateful for the love and connection that had grown between them.

As they sat down to enjoy their meal, Elrond couldn't help but feel grateful for Y/n’s presence in their lives. He knew that the road ahead would not be easy, but having Y/n by his side gave him hope and strength.

And seeing the way Y/n and Arwen interacted, Elrond knew that they were in good hands. Together, they would face whatever challenges came their way, and come out stronger on the other side.

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

A meddling high king

Elrond x Male!Elf!Reader

Summary:High King Gil-Galad conspires to bring his herald closer to one of his guards

Just a short one while I figure stuff out for By Moonlight! I might want to do some rings of power requests soon, I have a few smutty ideas ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧

Heavy is the head that wears the crown and Gil-Galad's head certainly felt like lead these days. With Galadriel's concerns and pointless meetings with ambitious courtiers he felt he was well justified in making a little bit of fun.

His newest project had been born of an old bit of entertainment grown stale. Despite his heralds silver tongue he had yet to woo the object of his affection. In fact as of late Gil-Galad had become convinced Elrond may not even realise his own feelings. How he could remain so oblivious was beyond him however. As every eloquent word seemed to leave Elrond in the presence of one of Lindon's guards.

Gil-Galad was fond of this guard himself, though it was an entirely platonic appreciation. He was just a very calming presence. No fawning or awkwardness under the scrutiny of his High King, just a dutiful quiet man. Though Gil-Galad was far too observant not to notice his albeit subtle reactions to Elrond's presence.

Just last week he'd watched as Elrond took notes in a meeting with a rather dull member of the court. Y/n had stood against the wall, ready for his call but Gil-Galad noted his eyes shifting back to his herald as the hours dragged on.

Then Elrond had paused in his note taking. His curls had fallen into his face, haven grown long as of late. He swept them back, his fingers splaying and running through the waves and just for a moment Gil-Galad watched his guard stiffen.

Then not two days prior Gil-Galad had spied Elrond's attempts at conversation with the man. The ellon who wrote his speeches, who prided himself on his recall of poetry and prose, now fumbled over simple small talk.

Gil-Galad believed he'd meant to make some comment on the unseasonable chill but had somehow so expertly fumbled his words as to imply his guard was standoffish and cold. Then in a spectacular display of stuttered half sentences manged to call him foolish and then trip over the low wall of the garden.

Any man would've been right to let him land face first in the shrubbery but not Y/n. He'd instead caught the buffoon and pulled him swiftly to his feet and right into his arms. Then as if he couldn't have made Elrond blush deeper he'd laughed heartily. Such a sudden and melodic sound that Gil-Galad himself was surprised it came from his quiet guard. Then to seal the deal had told the quickly reddening ellon that any day would be warmed by his company.

Yet, Gil-Galad noted, neither had made any move to begin a courtship. He supposed his guard may feel it inappropriate to engage in such behaviour with another in service to himself. Though perhaps not, as Gil-Galad had approved of many such unions in his presence. So it may be something a lot simpler though uncharacteristic of a man he'd seen leap into ravenous warg's path without a second thought.

He was scared.

Thus, as all things, it seemed to fall into Gil-Galad's hands to rectify the situation. So when opportunity struck he sent his favoured guard along side Elrond and Celebrimbor. Gil-Galad smiled into his goblet at the thought of the journey. Of Elrond and Y/n spending hours trekking together. Growing comfortable in each others presence.

He could just imagine Elrond's flushed expression when they'd arrive at Eregion. Where a Lord's duties would pull Celebrimbor from the group and leave them alone at last. Would they stroll together in the cities gardens? Take a trip past the bridge to lunch at the river banks? Could Elrond steady his heart long enough to recite a few verses?Would he come to see Y/n's admiration? Whatever they did he did not suppose it mattered, after all they'd be in each others company and that'd be enough.

[hornydilfsinyourarea]

Lord Of The Rings/The Hobbit x Dragon-Hybrid! Male! User

Authors note: if you guys want other characters added to this, just ask!

Scenario: "You're a dragon hybrid, having horns, wings, and a tail of a dragon, but you possessed the body of a man, there were no record of your species, dragons, yes, but hybrid's? Nope, there were none, but then you ended up in a strange place, but... While you were there, you caught someone's eye, you were... Interesting to them, very interesting, they even started to fall for you... But what happens when they find out that your going through a mating season? One thing is for sure... They help you out, they wouldn't want to leave you unsatisfied, do they?~"

Warning: NSFW, Size difference (Frodo), cave sex (Gríma), mentioned that user has a big dick, horn holding (the character is holding one of your horns), mention of user being in rut (Elrond, Frodo, Thranduil, Legolas), mention of character hearing you pleasure yourself (Legolas, Elrond, Frodo, Thranduil)

The characters! (just click on their name!)

☆ Elrond •♡• Frodo Baggins •♡• Thranduil •♡• Legolas •♡• Gríma Wormtongue •♡• Lindir •♡• more coming soon! ☆

[anxiteyandsleep]

Oh the fun I can have with this so. Human Rivendell gaurd - (us) male. Likes either Elrond/Elladan/lindir/glorfindel depending on who you like more BUT due to being human homophobia exists where we were raised. So opening about our feelings is a no no no. Basically a fic about confronting that and woowww happy ending

Okay so I do not know enough about Elladan and Glorfindel, at one point I did but my memory is shit so💀 I picked Elrond, though maybe I'll write something similar for Lindir later👀 Also did it more with the reader struggling with "i wish he was a girl" / internalized homophobia. This ends more with a promise of a future relationship

Hope you enjoy!

Lord Elrond was beautiful, the way his brown hair flowed down his back, his soft smile, his compassion for others. It was all so beautiful, (name) found himself admiring the elf regularly. When he was on night duty, his thoughts were filled with the brunette elf, his dreams plagued by fantasies of what they could be. If it wasn't for one problem - Elrond wasn't a woman.

(name) had no problem with others pursuing same sex relationships, there's never any judgement but... When it came to him, he felt as though it was wrong. Forbidden. Because where he was raised, it very much was. So (name) pushed his feelings down as much as possible, trying to ignore the warm feeling that built it's way up whenever Lord Elrond glanced his way

It was a dark, chilled night, (name) was keeping watch near Lord Elronds library. It was quite, nothing was happening so (name) allowed his thoughts to wander for a moment. Thinking back to the time he had been injured by an orc, the worried expression in Lord Elronds eyes as he approached, the way his warm, gentle hands tended to his bleeding leg, the soft elvish he whispered that (name) had no understanding of. That moment was when (name) realized he was falling in love and it made him feel sick

"(Name), good to see you. Taking the night watch again?" Lord Elronds voice cut through the memories, snapping (name) back to reality. Lord Elrond was leaving the library, book in hand. "I worry, humans should sleep during the night, not stay up standing in a hallway that does not need guarding" He hummed, stepping closer to the human guard, keen eyes looking him up and down. (name) couldn't bring himself to speak, a strange feeling overwhelming him. A mix of desire and shame bubbling inside of him.

"You're troubled, what is on your mind?" Elrond questioned with furrowed brows, gently resting his hand on (name)s shoulder and leading him back into the library for a private place to talk.

(name) had no idea what to say, men weren't supposed to talk like this, not about their feelings or what troubles them, at least not where he was raised. On top of that, how was he supposed to explain to his Lord that he was extremely conflicted about falling for him?

"It's nothing, my Lord Elrond, I'm just chilled. That is all" (name) lied and he knew it was painfully obvious. Elronds arched brow only confirmed his worries that Elrond saw right through it. However Elrond walked over to the tea tray and poured a cup, steam rising from the hot liquid. "It is a cold night, here, drink up"

(Name) took the cup from Elronds hand, feeling the warmth through his gloves. "Thank you, that is very kind" he whispered, softly blowing on the tea before taking a sip. It was delicious and did help his nerves, if only a little.

"now, what is truly troubling you?" Elrond questioned after a long silence, sitting down on a chair tucked away in the corner near a window, the moonlight flowing in and making him look all the more beautiful.

"i..." (name) started, struggling to find the right words. Lying again wouldn't work, Elrond will only see right through it and question again later on. "I'm sorry i....just wish you were different... I wish I could love someone else so it would be easier" (name) admitted, his voice barely above a whisper and cracking slightly as he struggled to hold back the tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He didn't dare look at Elrond, eyes glued to the floor beneath his feat

The silence from Elrond felt painfully long. Then a warm, gentle hand tilted (name)s chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze. "there is nothing wrong with how you love, Meleth nín." He reassured softly. "I understand that you were raised to think differently, but here there is no judgement for genuine love"

(name) tried to speak, muttering something to disagree but Elrond quietly shushed him. "I love you too, though if you are not ready to accept it, I will wait until you're ready." Elrond pressed a soft kiss to (name)s lips, it was tender and brief, a promise of what's to come later on. "Sleep, I will have someone else takeover for the night."

[dewdropdinosaur]

The Last Path to You

Frodo x M Reader Summary: Frodo and Y/N sit atop Mount Doom, the end is near. However, not everyone survives the Ring. Warnings: Death, feelings. PG For my friend @pixie-skull enjoy!

The air was thick with smoke, the remains of Mount Doom swirling around in a frenzy of ash and magma. Frodo lay on the rocks, his body battered and weak, every breath a painful reminder of the journey he had enjoyed. 

“We did it, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said, his voice a ragged whisper. “It’s over.”

Frodo nodded slowly, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Memories washed over him: the day the Fellowship had split, the despair of losing Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli to their own battles. The loneliness of the Ring had been suffocating, but Sam and Y/N had stayed by his side, despite his faults and slights against them. 

“Y/N,” Frodo murmured, turning his head slightly. “Are they—”

“They’re right here, Mr. Frodo,” Sam assured him, his voice breaking. “We’re all together.”

The distant sound of wings stirred the heavy air. The Eagles descended, their massive forms cutting through the smoke, followed closely by Gandalf, his presence a beacon of hope amid the chaos.

As the Eagles landed, Frodo’s vision blurred. He felt the warmth of Y/N’s hand slip away. “Stay with me,” he pleaded, though he barely had the strength to speak.

“I’m here, Frodo,” Y/N replied, their voice soft yet steady. But as they leaned closer, Frodo could see the paleness of their skin, the blood pooling around them like a dark promise. 

“We’ll make it out of this. I promise.”

The last thing Frodo remembered before darkness claimed him was the sound of Gandalf’s voice calling for him and the warmth of Y/N’s grip around his hand.

---

When Frodo awoke, the world was bright and peaceful. Rivendell. He blinked against the light, confusion settling over him like a heavy blanket. The pain he had felt fo so long had slipped away. 

Voices filled the air, laughter echoing as he turned to see familiar faces gathered around him.

“Frodo!” Merry’s joyful shout broke through the haze, followed by Pippin’s exuberance. “You’re awake!”

But as the celebrations swirled around him, a gnawing emptiness pierced through the joy. Frodo’s gaze darted from face to face, seeking a presence that should have been there. 

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, the question hanging heavy in the air.

The laughter faded, replaced by an uncomfortable silence. Elrond stepped forward, his expression grave. “Frodo… Y/N has passed.”

The words struck harder than the pierce of the Morgul blade.

 “No,” he breathed, tears blurring his vision. “They were… they were right here.”

Elrond knelt beside him, extending a small rope ring, the one Y/N had made long ago—a simple yet beautiful craft. 

“This was their last wish for you. They wanted you to have it.”

Frodo’s hands trembled as he took the ring, it was a promise of love and loyalty, now forever entwined with the pain of loss.

“I couldn’t save them,” Frodo whispered, choking on his grief.

“You fought bravely, Frodo,” Gandalf said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The hero is often rarely rewarded in struggle, but the reward enough is knowing that those we have lost, loved us to the very end.”

The laughter around him, the joy of victory, turned to ash in his mouth. How could he celebrate a victory when the light of his life had been extinguished?

---

Months had passed since that fateful day on the slopes of Mount Doom, yet the memories still felt vivid to Frodo. The Shire had resumed its tranquil rhythm, but he often found himself wandering its familiar paths with a heaviness in his heart.  Frodo clutched the ring, its presence both a comfort and a constant reminder of what he had lost. As he looked out over the rolling hills of the Shire, he realized that the journey had changed him forever, each step carved into his soul.

On a crisp evening, he, Sam, Pippin, and Merry gathered at the Green Dragon, the warmth of the tavern enveloping them like it used to. The air buzzed with laughter and the clinking of mugs, but Frodo felt a bittersweet edge to the merriment. The ale didnot taste as refreshing, Merry and Pippins dancing didn’t shake the tables the same; it all was different.

“Here’s to our journey!” Pippin raised his mug high, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “And to Y/N, who was braver than all of us!”

“Aye!” Merry chimed in, his voice strong despite the pang of loss. “To Y/N, who always found a way to make the dark times brighter!”

Frodo raised his mug too, the wooden surface cool against his palm. As he looked down, he caught sight of the rope promise ring glinting on his finger, a tangible reminder of the love that had once illuminated his darkest moments. With a gentle kiss pressed to the ring, he whispered, “For you, Y/N.”

Sam, sitting beside him, leaned closer, his eyes soft with understanding. “They’d want you to find joy again, Frodo. We all would.”

With a small nod, Frodo tried to embrace the warmth of the moment. They toasted once more, the clamor of the tavern swirling around them, a symphony of life that felt both beautiful and heartbreaking. They shared stories, laughter bubbling over, yet Frodo’s heart lingered in a quiet space, half-listening, half-lost in reflection.

As the sun began to set over the rolling hills, casting golden hues across the Shire, Frodo found himself at the riverbank, his heart pounding with an unexplainable urgency. He had received word that Gandalf and Elrond were waiting for him, and he knew this moment had arrived.

The boat to the Gray Havens rocked gently in the water, the shimmering surface reflecting the fading light. As he approached, he saw Gandalf, his wise eyes twinkling with both sorrow and solace, and Elrond, whose expression bore the weight of countless farewells.

“Frodo,” Gandalf greeted him, his voice warm. “Are you ready?”

Frodo’s heart swelled as he stepped onto the boat. The ache of loss still resided within him, but it felt lighter, almost like a whispering promise. “I am,” he replied, glancing back at the Shire, where the lights of familiar homes twinkled like stars. “I will always carry them with me.”

Elrond nodded solemnly, understanding the depth of Frodo’s resolve. As they drifted further from the shore, Frodo’s heart raced with anticipation and hope. The waters parted before them, the horizon opening up like a door to a world beyond.

“Y/N is waiting for you, Frodo,” Gandalf said softly, as the first stars began to appear in the twilight sky. 

Frodo felt a surge of warmth at those words. As the boat glided smoothly toward the Gray Havens, he gazed into the distance, his heart open to the possibilities that lay ahead. He could almost feel Y/N beside him, their laughter echoing through the ages, wrapping around him like a gentle breeze.

In that moment, Frodo understood that this journey was not an end, but a new beginning. A journey to reunite with the love he had lost, to find peace at last. With the rope ring on his finger and memories held close, he embraced the horizon, ready to sail into the unknown, knowing that no matter what, he would be with Y/N again.

[kingofvipers]

The Hobbit Masterlist

Bilbo

Thorin

Kili

Fili

Thranduil

Legolas

Bard

Bain

Azog

Smaug

Elrond

[feyhunter78]

Send me the number you’d want to see and with what character and I’ll see what I can whip up for y’all!!!!

20 Soft/Fluffy Dialogue Prompts

Okay, that angst piece I did was emotional, so I wrote some fluffy dialogue prompts to cheer myself up and thought I would share 🥹

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

1. “Have I mentioned that I love you?” // “oh, only about a thousand times today.”

2. “…Do I have something on my face?” // “No. I just love looking at you. I can’t believe you’re real.”

3. “Are you warm enough? Here, have my coat.”

4. “What are you doing here?” // “I know I already said goodnight, but I wanted to tell you that I love you…again. And kiss you…again.”

5. “I didn’t know what I wanted from the future until I pictured you in it.”

6. “…What are you doing?” // “Holding your hand.”

7. “This is really interesting conversation and I swear I am invested, but I just need to kiss you. Right now.”

8. “You are…so beautiful, I don’t even know what to say.”

9. “Last night was just…perfect.”

10. “Sit between my legs. I’m combing your hair.”

11. “That smile just…kills me. Every time.”

12. “I didn’t know it was even possible to be this happy.”

13. “I don’t care where we are. Just as long as you’re there.”

14. “I love you and you love me, and we will be fine for that reason.”

15. “Every day that I live, I’m yours. Every single one.”

16. “I love this. Being with you.”

17. “Let’s just…go somewhere. Do something. Just you and me.”

18. “Come lie with me. Let me hold you.”

19. “Where are you taking me? It’s so early.” // “We’re going to watch the sunrise.”

20. “I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you. It’s terrifying. And so, so beautiful.”

[etherealeowyn]

"Blinded by your foolish jealousy" - Kili x Fem Reader

Kili spots Y/n warmly greeting another elf and becomes jealous when he believes she is already in a relationship.

Angst + a little bit of fluff

Word Count: 2,127

My requests are always open, so feel free to message me if you have an idea! I'll write for any character from The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or The Rings of Power!

The journey to reclaim Erebor had already proved treacherous, meaning that the short break the dwarves and company took in Rivendell was much needed. Y/n smiled as she looked at the city that provided refuge, feeling immense joy, that she was finally back home.

She was thankful that her father Elrond had recommended her for a position in the company Gandalf was forming, however over the past weeks, homesickness had taken hold of her.

All the other dwarves seemed unhappy that they had to stop there, considering they were not fond of elves, but Kili did not fully share their feelings. Over the time he had spent with Y/n on their journey, he had grown fond of the elf, wanting desperately to know more about her. So instead of taking part in the bickering that the rest of the company was doing, he stepped to the side and watched Y/n talk to a group of elves he presumed were her friends.

Though they were all elves, Kili couldn’t help but feel Y/n was not the same as the rest, for her beauty outshined them all. She seemed to glow as she stood there talking, her face lighting up in a smile as she exchanged pleasantries. All was well until one of the male elves hugged her and kissed her cheek.

Kili quickly turned away, nervously biting his cheek as he wondered who that elf was that was being so friendly to Y/n. Internally he was kicking himself for never asking her if she was in a relationship with anyone, but he figured she would’ve told him by now. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that no situation occurred that would make her have to share something like that.

He walked back towards the group feeling stupid, wondering why he caught feelings for Y/n without knowing if she could reciprocate them. Desperately, Kili tried to distract himself by talking to his friends and family, but nothing could get rid of the image of that male elf kissing Y/n.

For the rest of the day, he was unusually quiet, and Y/n couldn’t help but wonder what the reason was for his sudden change. The rest of the dwarves had begun to open up once her father Elrond had provided them with a feast to indulge in, so she grew concerned.

She could’ve sworn that they both shared feelings for each other, but now, she was questioning everything.

“Had someone not treated him poorly? Did he feel unwell?” were some of the thoughts that flooded Y/n’s mind, making her poke at her food more than eat it.

She wanted to ask him right then and there, but she didn’t want to make a scene of it in front of the dwarves and other elves that surrounded them. As staring at him, he made eye contact with her, and instead of sending a warm smile in her direction like he usually did, he excused himself from the table and began to walk down one of the paths.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, mildly shocked he was acting weird or more accurately, rude towards her. She politely thanked her father for the meal before she got up and began to follow Kili, her legs carrying her a little less gracefully than usual.

Elrond observed his eldest daughter follow the dwarf down the path, his curiosity making him want to know what was unfolding.

“Kili!” she called after him, trying to catch his attention.

His ears perked up when his name rolled off her tongue, but he did not stop.

“Kili, I need to talk to you. I don’t understand what’s happening!” she loudly spoke, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

He turned around and looked up at Y/n, seemingly teary-eyed, making her even more confused.

“You never told me that you were in a relationship,” he spoke, his eyebrows furrowing as the words escaped his lips.

“That’s because I’m not in a relationship, I don’t understand where any of this is coming from,” she responded, looking down at him in confusion.

“I saw the way that elf hugged you and then kissed you. You were practically brimming with joy as he did so. I’m not dumb Y/n, you don’t need to lie to me. I need to know the truth because not knowing is eating me alive,” he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away, not finding the courage to look her in the eyes.

“How dare you think of me as a liar,” Y/n, spit back, losing her usually calm and collected demeanor, “I thought we trusted each other more than that. And for your information, I am not in a relationship, I was greeting a friend I haven’t seen in centuries.”

A few hot tears escaped her eyes, and immediately, Kili felt awful. He had never seen her cry before, and honestly, it broke his heart. He wished he could take everything he said back, to reverse the tears that fell from her eyes, but he knew it was impossible.

“Instead of being blinded by your foolish jealousy, next time you should come and ask me for my side of the story first. I do not appreciate you senselessly accusing me of things that I have not done,” Y/n finished before spinning around on her heel and walking away from Kili, leaving him in the middle of one of the garden paths.

He watched her storm off, running one of his hands through his hair not knowing what to do. Kili was certain that if there were any feelings the pair shared, they were gone. He looked up at the sky, blinking back the forming tears.

Y/n hastily made her way to her chambers, trying to stay out of the vision of other elves, not wanting them to see her in her unraveled state. When she arrived, she quickly shut the door behind her and walked over to the cushioned bench under her window. She sat down and let tears flow freely, finally comfortable doing so now that she was in her private space.

Originally, she was angry at him, but as she sat there, her anger had been replaced by sadness. She didn’t mean to lash out at him in that manner, but she thought the time they shared was enough to make him realize that she would never think of being with any other man.

Y/n recognized the apologetic expression on his face after she had begun crying, and she did feel bad for storming away from him. But at the same time, she wasn’t going to stand there and let him treat her that way. She needed a verbal apology, desperately.

When the dinner had finished, and all the dwarves retreated for the night, Elrond walked down the path where Kili and Y/n had gone earlier, and he kept an eye out for either sign of them in hopes of getting to the bottom of what was going on. He had an inkling that perhaps the two were experiencing relationship troubles, for this wasn’t the first time he had seen a couple act this way.

He walked down the path and noticed Kili sitting at the end of a dock, his legs dangling as he stared down at the water, seemingly searching for answers.

“I hope I’m not intruding, but I couldn’t help but sense that something was off between you and my daughter,” Elrond’s voice sounded, making Kili immediately jump up and look at the regal elf.

“You’re not intruding at all Lord Elrond, I apologize if I’ve upset you,” Kili explained, hoping that he was not in any trouble.

“There is no need to apologize rather I just would like to know what happened between the two of you,” Elrond spoke, and Kili looked slightly more relieved.

Kili stood there for a moment trying to find the right words to explain what happened.

“Well, I saw something that made me believe that Y/n was in a relationship, so I was immediately filled with jealousy and anger since she had seemed to lead me on for so long. I called her a liar, and I even made her cry. I don’t know why I acted like that, but I did, and now I’m fearful she’ll never forgive me,” Kili spoke, choking on his words that were filled with pain.

Kili wasn’t the type to talk about his emotions so freely, but for some reason, Elrond had this air about him that provoked a truthful response. He exuded an atmosphere of safety, matching the energy of Rivendell.

“I see. If I know anything about my daughter, she will forgive someone if they truly mean it. So, I suggest you come up with a good apology, and I permit you to take some flowers from the garden to give her,” Elrond advised, sending the young dwarf a smile before returning to discuss matters with Gandalf.

Kili spun around, scanning his surroundings and searching for Y/n’s favorite type of flower. His eyes lit up when he spotted the lissuin flower to the right of him. He had listened to Y/n’s stories about this flower, which was brought to Numenor by the elves. Kili felt lucky that Elrond had a sample of this plant in his garden, and he figured that this was probably how she first encountered it. Plus, its fragrance was supposed to put the heart at ease, something he wished he could help her with since he was the reason for her sadness.

Once he collected it, he began to walk up towards Y/n’s quarters, running lines through his head to figure out what exactly he should say to her. He was more nervous than he’d been in a long time, and quite frankly if Elrond hadn’t told him that she was likely to forgive him, Kili was almost certain he would have had a heart attack.

When he had reached her door, he pressed his ear against it, frowning when he heard muffled crying. He looked down at the flowers in his hand once more, before raising his fist and knocking. There was a brief silence before he heard the gentle sound of footsteps approaching.

He removed his ear just before the door opened, revealing Y/n’s face which had turned slightly red from crying. Her eyes were glossy, and they focused on Kili’s face, before trailing down and noticing the delicate flowers resting in his hands.

“I know that the way I acted earlier was horrendous, and it’s completely understandable if you do not wish to speak to me anymore. I just… I have these feelings for you, and when I saw you with that guy, my heart felt like it was breaking inside my chest. All I ask of you is your forgiveness,” Kili spoke, his eyes slightly teary as he looked up at her through his eyelashes.

Y/n took a step forward and grabbed the flowers from his hand bringing them to her face to inhale. A smile pulling at the corners of her lips, she motioned for him to enter the room and follow her to the window seat.

They sat down before she replied, “I forgive you for what you said, and I appreciate the flowers you brought me. But, most importantly, I want you to know that you have been the only individual I have ever had eyes on in this way. I didn’t feel I needed to tell you about what happened earlier because there was nothing to tell. If this is going to work, I need you to trust me, and trust that I would never do anything to hurt you,” grabbing his hand and looking directly into his eyes.

“I trust you, completely and utterly. It was my insecurities that got me into this mess, and I shouldn’t have ever doubted you,” Kili responded, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth before tenderly kissing it, never breaking eye contact.

 “May I kiss you?” Y/n asked setting down the flowers delicately beside her.

Kili nodded, letting the elf take control, her fingers gently tucking his hair behind his ear before leaning in. Y/n’s lips were even softer than he imagined, and they felt almost featherlike when they moved against his. He smiled into the kiss, causing Y/n to pull back and look at the dwarf whose face practically turned bright red.

“You do not know how long I’ve wanted you to do that,” Kili remarked, causing a small laugh to escape Y/n’s lips.

“Now the only thing I’m uncertain of, is whether or not, it was you or these flowers that put my heart at ease,” Y/n joked, smirking at the dwarf that sat in front of her.

[earthlybeam]

https://www.tumblr.com/earthlybeam/769401164997509120/hello-dear-i-couldnt-find-your-material-thats?source=share

I'm so glad to hear that. I wonder if you could write something for yandere or dark Elves (Thranduil, Gil Galand, Elrond, Glorfindel, Haldir, Lindir and others) and female fairy readers? Thanks

as I had to split it into separate posts to avoid making it too lengthy. At the bottom of this post, I’ll leave link to of the second one featuring Glorfindel, haldir, lindir version.

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Thranduil, Elrond, Gil-galad Versions are below.

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

Yandere/Dark Elf Thranduil x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons

���� Thranduil’s feelings for you, a delicate fairy, become all-consuming. The moment you cross his path, he cannot help but claim you as his own. His pride and love intertwine into an obsession so deep that he believes your existence is meant solely for him. No one else can claim your attention, and if you dare show affection to anyone else, his gaze sharpens with silent fury. He doesn’t just desire you—he needs you, and he will ensure that you belong to him, and only him.

𐂂 As the King of Mirkwood, Thranduil is used to overseeing everything, but for you, his vigilance reaches new heights. No action you take goes unnoticed. He watches from the shadows, a silent observer who knows your every move, your every word, your every gesture. Every smile you share with someone else, every fleeting glance you direct at anyone, only fuels his need to control. He finds a twisted satisfaction in knowing you exist only for him. Even your every breath feels like an affirmation of his possession.

𐂂 Thranduil doesn’t just protect you—he isolates you. While he claims it’s for your own safety, to shield you from the dangers of Middle-earth, it’s really because he wants to have you all to himself. Your world becomes his kingdom, where only his influence reigns. He keeps you close, often forbidding you to leave his side, especially when other males approach. The world outside his kingdom is a threat to him, and thus to you. He won’t let you experience the freedom to wander alone, not when he can guard and control you.

𐂂 When you are near him, Thranduil’s affection becomes overwhelming in its intensity. He lavishes you with touch, his hands lingering too long, his breath hot against your skin. His kisses are possessive, deep, and filled with a sense of desperate longing. He would never let anyone else see his softer side, but in private, with you, he is intense and devoted. “You are mine, melleth nîn,” he whispers, as his lips press against yours, his body leaning into yours as if trying to merge the two of you into one. There’s nothing gentle about his desire; it’s all consuming.

𐂂 Thranduil is masterful at playing on your emotions, twisting his love for you into something that feels suffocating, yet irresistible. He will remind you of his sacrifices, the years he has spent in solitude, waiting for someone like you to step into his world. He speaks of the importance of your bond, how it transcends time and space, as though you were fated to be together. His words echo with a dark promise: “I’ve waited centuries, melleth nîn. You are the light of my life. No one else can share in that light.”

𐂂 The idea of anyone else coming close to you is enough to send him into a silent rage. While Thranduil does not often express his jealousy with words, his actions make it clear. He might suddenly appear by your side, his gaze icy and warning, dismissing anyone who dares to speak to you. He’ll remind you of your place, perhaps even with a curt, biting remark: “Do they think they can woo you, little one? Do not forget who your heart belongs to.” His dark smile lingers as if daring anyone to challenge him.

𐂂 Beneath his royal facade and cold demeanor lies a man who has been emotionally shattered. Thranduil’s past pain from losing his wife has made him incapable of loving anyone freely. But with you, he’s willing to show that side of himself, albeit in a twisted way. He’s not willing to let you go, even when you might want to. His possessiveness is a direct reflection of the fragility of his own heart—he fears losing you as much as he fears being alone again.

𐂂 Thranduil’s protectiveness borders on the dangerous. He feels the need to shield you from everything, even the most innocuous of dangers. If he believes that anyone poses even the slightest threat to you, he will take immediate action, whether it be through manipulation, isolation, or, if necessary, violence. Your safety is paramount to him, but it’s also a way to keep you tethered to him, to remind you that he is the only one who understands the world you live in.

𐂂 In Thranduil’s mind, your relationship is not simply a love story; it is a divine plan, written by the Valar themselves. He cannot fathom a future without you, nor would he allow one to exist. To him, you are the culmination of his existence, the answer to his loneliness, the balm to his wounds. “It was meant to be, my love. No one else will ever take my place in your heart.” His voice is gentle, but there is an unspoken threat hidden behind it—one that assures you that no matter where you go or how you try to leave, you are bound to him forever.

𐂂 Thranduil will not allow you to form connections with anyone else. He is the only one who can give you love and warmth, and he will make sure you never forget that. His affections, though intense and loving in their own way, are the chains that bind you. If you ever try to reach out to others, he will gently (or not so gently) remind you of your place with him. He will shower you with attention, touch, and words of love until you feel as though you cannot breathe without him.

𐂂 Thranduil’s love for you reaches its peak when he feels as though you are entirely his. He will keep you in his presence, sheltered from the world, and whisper his vows to you. His obsession grows stronger, and he begins to feel the need to mark you as his in every way possible. He wants everyone to know you belong to him, from his gentle caresses to the possessive way he holds you close. He is a king, after all, and you are his queen, in every twisted sense of the word.

Through all of this, there is one truth Thranduil holds dear: his love, no matter how dark, is unwavering. And he will make sure the entire world knows that you are his, and his alone.

𐂂 Thranduil, in his yandere and dark Elf form, sees you, the fairy, as something beyond precious — an ethereal being meant solely for him. His obsession with you goes far beyond any typical affection; you are his possession, a delicate, rare treasure that no one but he deserves to cherish. Your wings, fragile and beautiful, draw him like a moth to a flame, a symbol of your uniqueness and his claim over you.

𐂂 He is intensely possessive over you, watching your every move from the shadows, studying the flutter of your wings as if it is the most captivating thing he has ever seen. Your beauty, small and delicate in comparison to the world around you, drives him to madness. He will do anything to keep you close, to keep others away. No one is allowed to touch you, not even a gentle breeze is allowed to ruffle your wings without his permission. He often asks you not to fly, as it brings too much attention, keeping you grounded in his presence, where he feels you are safest.

𐂂 Thranduil will be affectionate, but in a way that is obsessive and controlling. He runs his fingers gently through your wings, brushing them with reverence, but with an undertone of possessiveness. He touches them slowly, savoring the delicate texture, memorizing the feel of the intricate patterns on them, as if marking them as his own. His fingers graze over your wings possessively, as if to remind you that they — and you — belong only to him. He may even pull you close, wrapping his arms around you, gently pressing your back against his chest so that his touch lingers on your wings for a long moment, just to reaffirm his control.

𐂂 At times, he will whisper things to you, voice low and filled with longing, his words coated with an edge of possessiveness: “These wings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and they belong to me alone.” The way his eyes darken with desire when he speaks of your wings makes you realize how deeply he craves to possess every part of you, body and soul.

𐂂 When you’re in his presence, Thranduil will often keep his hand firmly around your wrist or your waist, guiding you through the forest, ensuring that no one else dares approach you. His grip will be gentle but firm, never letting you stray too far. The closer you are to him, the more satisfied he feels. His eyes rarely leave you, scanning you for any sign of someone else showing interest or approaching too closely. If someone dares to try to get too close, he will intervene with a cold and calculated subtlety, ensuring that you remain within his sight and his grasp.

𐂂 Thranduil’s love for you is not something he expresses easily. He has closed his heart to many, but for you, he opens it only in private, his vulnerability laid bare beneath his regal and sometimes cold exterior. He will never let you feel abandoned, but his love comes with strings attached. He will lavish you with gifts—rare flowers that only bloom in the deepest parts of Mirkwood, gemstones that shimmer like starlight, and precious treasures. These offerings are his way of marking you, claiming you as his own. “You deserve the finest things, as long as they are from me,” he tells you, his words dripping with pride and possessiveness.

𐂂 His kisses are slow and deliberate, tasting of wine, power, and a long-held yearning. When he kisses you, it’s not just affection—it’s a demand, a claim over your lips, over your body. He holds your chin with a gentle yet unyielding grip, keeping you where he wants you. His kisses are lingering, deep, and possessive, often leaving you breathless and craving more of his touch.

𐂂 Thranduil will be extremely protective of your wings, treating them with a reverence that borders on obsession. He may even commission magical elven items for their protection, ensuring no one harms them or touches them without his permission. At times, he will stroke your wings gently, carefully brushing off any stray twigs or leaves, an action that serves to remind you of his control over you. He will take great care to ensure that no harm comes to your wings, as they are the symbol of your connection to him, of your uniqueness.

𐂂 His jealousy knows no bounds. If anyone dares to even glance at you the wrong way, he will take immediate action. He doesn’t hesitate to show his displeasure, whether it’s through cutting words, subtle threats, or making it clear that he is the only one worthy of your attention. He might even isolate you from others, placing you in a secluded part of the forest, away from prying eyes, where you can only be his. In these private moments, he showers you with adoration, but his possessiveness is ever-present.

𐂂 Thranduil is a master at subtle dominance, taking control of situations without overtly showing it. He expects obedience, but he does not force it—his charisma, his allure, and his overwhelming presence make it impossible for you to resist him. He can sense when you need affection or when you are pulling away, and he will know how to draw you back to him with a tender touch or a possessive word.

𐂂 In his darker moments, when he feels you slipping away or when another threatens to take your attention, his possessiveness turns darker. He becomes more commanding, more insistent. His touch becomes firmer, his kisses more urgent, as if he can’t bear the thought of anyone else taking you from him. “You will stay with me,” he murmurs against your skin, “You are mine, now and forever.”

𐂂 Thranduil’s love, in its darkest form, becomes an all-encompassing obsession, a need that twists his otherwise noble heart. He will never let you go, and anyone who dares to try to take you from him will regret it. His love is possessive, controlling, and suffocating, but beneath it all, he truly believes that you, the fairy, are the only one worthy of his affection, and he will stop at nothing to keep you in his arms, where you belong.

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

Yandere/Dark Elf Elrond x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons

✶ Elrond’s love for you is all-consuming. His feelings begin to shift from noble affection to something far darker, bordering on possessive obsession. As a half-Elven being, he sees you as a rare and ethereal creature, a being of light that he cannot afford to lose. He watches your every movement with hawk-like precision, your every word echoing in his mind as he tries to predict your every need. He no longer allows you to wander freely in Rivendell without his presence, as the idea of you slipping away—of you being taken from him—is an unbearable thought.

✶ Elrond’s natural inclination towards leadership grows twisted. He wants to control every aspect of your life—where you go, who you speak to, and even what you feel. He convinces himself that his desire to keep you close is for your safety, but it soon becomes apparent that his true desire is to ensure that no one else can reach you, can touch you, or can love you the way he does. His regal demeanor is now a mask for a deeper, darker hunger.

✶ Elrond takes it upon himself to “protect” you from all harm, even if it means isolating you from everyone else. He sees the world beyond Rivendell as a threat, and you, as the one fragile thing in his life, must be kept away from it. He keeps you secluded in Rivendell, taking long walks with you around the same familiar places, refusing to let you venture beyond his sight. At times, he’s even gone so far as to forbid you from speaking to other Elves, or anyone outside his inner circle, lest they distract you from him.

✶ His affection, once gentle and kind, becomes a suffocating force. Every word he speaks is laced with a possessive undertone, as he constantly reaffirms that you are his and his alone. “No one will ever take you from me, meleth nín. You are mine—now and forever.” His words are calm, but they hold a chilling certainty. His love has become a cage, and with each passing day, the walls grow tighter.

✶ Elrond’s gifts become more elaborate and controlling. Instead of simple tokens of affection, he offers you grand, but carefully chosen, presents. He gifts you a garden within Rivendell—a space so secluded and intimate that no one but you and him may enter. He tends to it personally, ensuring that it is a reflection of his mind, where you are the only flower, the only thing that matters. Each gift, though beautiful, is a way for him to mark his claim on you.

✶ Elrond’s jealousy manifests in subtle but intense ways. He doesn’t let you out of his sight if someone else expresses interest in you. If anyone dares to talk to you for too long, his icy gaze is upon them, watching from a distance. He doesn’t need to interfere directly, for the mere thought of you being approached by another is enough to make him act. If he believes a bond could form, even one of friendship, Elrond will intervene, ensuring that person is swiftly removed from your life—whether through politics, influence, or mere intimidation. He justifies it to himself as protecting you from others’ unworthy intentions.

✶ Elrond’s view of the outside world becomes increasingly disdainful. He sees the race of men and other creatures as weak and fleeting. Their desires, their love—they all pale in comparison to what he offers. He’s not concerned about the well-being of the other inhabitants of Middle-earth as much as he is about keeping you safe, but safe in his arms, isolated from everyone else. You’re his, and he’s willing to watch the world burn before he lets anyone take you away from him.

✶ Elrond’s intimacy with you becomes slow, deliberate, and possessive. Every kiss, every touch, feels like a claim—his fingers tracing over your skin as though he’s mapping your soul. When you’re alone, he showers you with affection, but it’s clear it’s for his own satisfaction. His slow kisses hold a forceful edge, as if reminding you that you are bound to him. He presses himself close to you at all times, and his love for you is always coupled with a strong, unyielding possessiveness. “You are the only one for me, melethril nín. Never forget that.”

✶ His speech becomes even more poetic, yet dark and obsessive. “You are the light of my life, my heart, the only soul I would ever sacrifice for.” He speaks in phrases that hint at his belief that you and he are fated—no one else could love you as he does, no one else could understand you as he does. “Forever, meleth nín, forever we will be as one. There is no future without you.” His love has taken on a tone that speaks not of equality, but of possession.

✶ While Elrond remains the wise, composed leader on the surface, behind closed doors, a cold, calculating nature emerges. If you try to defy him, even in the smallest of ways, you will see the mask slip. His words will turn harsher, more commanding, and his hands will grip you with possessive strength. “Do not test me, meleth nín. You belong to me. No matter how far you try to run, you will always return to me. I will not let you leave.” His once calm demeanor will give way to a storm of dominance, and it’s clear that his patience is running thin.

✶ Elrond convinces himself that he’s giving you choices, but in reality, you are always bound by his will. He will take you to places you would enjoy, all while making sure you know he’s the one who chose them for you. You believe you have some semblance of freedom, but with each passing day, it becomes harder to distinguish where your desires end and his control begins.

✶ In his heart, Elrond feels justified, believing that your love for him is written in the stars. He truly believes that this obsessive, possessive love is for your own good, and that no one else could ever love you as deeply or truly as he does. He is your protector, your lover, and your only source of light in a world of darkness. Whether you agree with him or not, Elrond will make sure you never forget it.

✶ Elrond’s protective nature becomes an all-consuming obsession. His love for you, a delicate and ethereal fairy, manifests in a fierce determination to keep you safe, though his definition of safety is one of total isolation. He will not let you leave Rivendell, often insisting that the outside world is too dangerous for a fragile creature like you. His fingers will often trace the delicate bones of your wings, marveling at their beauty, while he quietly tells you, “No one shall harm you while I draw breath, meleth nín. Your wings are too precious for this world.”

✶ Every inch of your being, from the shimmering tips of your wings to the curve of your waist, becomes his to cherish and, at times, to control. Elrond will always find ways to be close to you, touching your wings as if they were extensions of himself. He caresses the edges of your wings softly, his touch slow and deliberate, leaving a possessive mark that lingers. When he holds you, his arms will wrap around you with the intent to feel your wings pressed against his chest, ensuring that you’re physically close to him at all times.

✶ His affection is tender, but it’s always laced with an undeniable sense of dominance. He will often gently pull you into his embrace, running his fingers through your hair or along the delicate veins of your wings. When you sit beside him, he may run his hand along your wing’s edge, each touch a silent claim, and whisper, “You are mine, little one, as much as your wings belong to the heavens.” He has no intention of sharing you with anyone, and the idea of another admiring your wings fills him with a possessive rage.

✶ Elrond, aware of your fairy nature, will often bring you delicacies and treats. These are not merely for sustenance; they are a way for him to further entrench himself in your life. He will feed you by hand, placing small morsels of food on your lips and gazing at you with longing, as if to say, you are mine, even in your smallest acts. His touch will linger after feeding you, fingers grazing over your lips, and he will kiss your hands, the back of your neck, or your wings as if tasting your very essence.

✶ After your physical intimacy, Elrond’s tenderness will extend into slow, affectionate moments where he presses you close to him. His kisses are drawn out and measured, tender but intense. He takes care to brush his lips over your wings, as if savoring the warmth and beauty of them. When he pulls you close, his hands gently hold your wings in place, making sure they’re not crushed under his embrace, as if treating them as fragile treasures that only he is allowed to touch.

✶ Elrond’s dark version sees your wings not only as beautiful but as something to cherish exclusively. He might tie soft silken ribbons around the base of your wings in a delicate and symbolic way, ensuring they are kept close to him and that no one else can see or touch them. The act is one of worship and control, an intimate display of ownership that he ensures only he can ever untie.

✶ In private moments, Elrond might demand your full attention, ensuring you never wander far from him. He’ll pull you into his study, keeping you seated by his side as he reads, one hand absently running over your wings while the other holds his scroll. His voice might grow soft and low, filled with longing and possessiveness, as he murmurs, “There is no need to leave, meleth nín. The world outside is unworthy of you. You belong here, with me, for all eternity.”

✶ Elrond’s dark affection for your wings becomes a form of obsessive worship. He will often gaze at your wings with a mixture of awe and desire, touching them reverently. He knows their delicate beauty, their fragility, and he treats them as something sacred, yet something that only he is allowed to possess. His touch on your wings becomes a constant reminder that no one else should dare come close, that your wings are a symbol of your bond with him alone.

✶ In moments of intimacy, when he feels the need to reassure himself of his control over you, Elrond will whisper sweet promises in your ear. “You are the only one I will ever need,” he would say, his voice low and full of an emotion that is not entirely tender. “Your wings, your soul, your heart—they belong to me, and I will keep them safe forever. No one will take you from me.” His breath will be hot against your neck as he places another kiss on the delicate skin of your shoulder, near the base of your wings, reaffirming the bond between the two of you.

✶ Even when you move about Rivendell or within the safety of your private spaces, Elrond is never far. He watches from the shadows, knowing that your wings and beauty could attract unwanted attention. At the slightest hint of danger or an unfamiliar gaze upon you, he will appear swiftly by your side, wrapping his arm around you possessively and guiding you away with quiet authority, a warning in his eyes to anyone who dares come too close. “You are mine,” he will murmur, his voice dark and commanding, before retreating to the seclusion of his chambers where he can keep you safe and bound to him.

✶ Elrond’s dark love comes with whispered commands. He may order you to stay within certain boundaries of Rivendell, his gaze cold and unyielding when he senses your desire to venture beyond. “The outside world is not for you,” he will say, his words authoritative. “Stay with me, by my side, where you are safe. I will not lose you to anyone, least of all to your foolish whims.”

👑𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

Yandere/Dark Elf Gil-galad x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons

🜲 In a dark, yandere interpretation of Gil-galad, the High King of the Noldor, and his interactions with a female fairy reader, things would shift from his normally honorable and composed nature into something far more obsessive and possessive. The darkness of his love for you would twist his noble characteristics, making them intense, controlling, and somewhat unsettling.

🜲 The Obsession as Dark Gil-galad While Gil-galad’s wisdom, nobility, and responsibility are some of his most revered traits, in this yandere version, his wisdom turns to a dangerous kind of obsession. His deep love for you, the fairy, becomes all-consuming. He watches your every move, studying your expressions and habits as if they were pieces of a puzzle he must solve. He becomes fixated on the way you speak, the way you move, even the smallest details of your existence.

🜲 He refuses to let any other male approach you, seeing your beauty and ethereal nature as something only for him. This isn’t out of jealousy, but a deep conviction that your soul belongs to him alone. If anyone shows interest in you, he would subtly, but harshly, remove them from your life, often using his influence as a king to quietly banish anyone who dares to intrude upon what he views as his rightful domain.

🜲 In a dark version of Gil-galad, his protective instincts are not just to safeguard you, but to isolate you from any potential harm. He would keep you hidden from the dangers of Middle-earth—his people, or even the world itself, would be seen as threats. He doesn’t want you to experience the pain and suffering that could be caused by anyone, even if that means keeping you away from everyone but himself.

🜲 Your every move is watched, but he would justify it as “keeping you safe.” Even a mere walk in the garden would be heavily guarded, as he insists on being by your side at all times. He would begin to suppress your own freedom, never truly allowing you to be yourself or experience the world as you once did. But all of this would be done under the guise of “love” and “protection.”

🜲 Yandere Words His speeches would turn darker, more possessive. He might whisper sweet words of devotion in your ear, his voice trembling with an almost manic need to be near you. His compliments would grow more intense, filled with an obsession for you, calling you his “moonlight,” “goddess,” or even “soulmate” in a way that echoes his belief that you were meant to be his, no one else’s.

🜲 He would frequently speak of “forever,” implying that your bond transcends time, both in terms of the literal and metaphorical sense. To him, there is no part of Middle-earth, no piece of reality, where he would let you go. He’d see you as the embodiment of his hopes for the future, the one soul that can make all the pain and sacrifice he’s endured worth it.

🜲 His desire to express his affection would turn into an overwhelming need to make you feel his love. No one else’s affection could compare to his. His words would be poetic, deeply romantic, yet chillingly possessive: “You are the light of my kingdom, the only soul I would ever sacrifice everything for, my love.”

🜲 Possession and Control He would subtly, yet forcefully, begin to control your life. Every decision you make, every moment of your day would somehow revolve around him. Even if you love something that isn’t directly tied to him, he’d make it his mission to make sure that he’s involved in your life. If you spent time alone with someone else, even for something as innocent as a friendly conversation, he would be there, watching from the shadows, ready to swoop in if things went too far.

🜲 His “gifts” for you would be imbued with his own personal touch—perhaps a garden of flowers, but one that only he tends to, so no one else can approach you. Maybe he would create a sanctuary just for you, a private world where no one else can enter, but all of it would be his doing, with no part of your existence outside of his control.

🜲 His affection for you would be obsessive, suffocating at times, but always laced with a veneer of nobility and gentleness. You’d never feel abandoned or unloved, but the weight of his affection would make you feel constantly watched and cared for in a way that feels unnatural. Every time you express love or affection for him, it fuels his obsession. He would respond with a soft smile, but there’s a hint of something darker behind it—this is his love, and no one else’s could ever rival it.

🜲 In private moments, he’d indulge in intense physical affection—holding you tightly, wrapping you in his arms, kissing you deeply, as though reaffirming his claim on your heart. These acts might feel like genuine affection, but the darkness beneath them would be palpable.

🜲 The Darker Side of His Love Behind his serene, composed exterior, there is a growing storm of control. While he keeps up his public persona of the noble High King, in private he’s a much more dangerous figure. If you ever try to leave or express doubt, his demeanor would shift instantly. His voice would turn colder, and his gaze would pierce through you, unyielding. The moment you try to escape, even in the smallest way, he would remind you that you belong to him—body and soul. His calm nature would disappear, and a cold, calculating side of him would emerge to bend you to his will.

🜲 He would say things like, “You are mine, now and forever. You cannot escape me, even if you wish to. You are my heart.” His voice would not falter, his grip on you becoming more vice-like with every passing day.

🜲 The Dark Elf Transformation As a “dark elf” version of Gil-galad, his connection to his people and his responsibilities may remain, but his sense of justice and duty would be warped by his love for you. His obsession would manifest not only in his personal life but also in his role as High King. His decisions as a ruler would begin to revolve around you, prioritizing your desires and safety above the needs of his people or even the greater good.

🜲 Gil-galad would be fascinated by your wings, which symbolize your ethereal beauty and unique nature. He would often trace them gently with his fingers, but it’s clear that this touch goes beyond admiration—he wants to claim them, almost as though he’s marking you as his own. He would insist that you stay near him at all times, fearing that someone might take advantage of your beauty or your wings.

🜲 He would make sure that no one can get too close to you, keeping a vigilant watch over every movement. At times, his concern might be suffocating. If you tried to take a walk in the garden or venture outside of his sight, he would insist on accompanying you, subtly ensuring you don’t go anywhere without him. If necessary, his personal guards would be stationed just outside the door, always on alert, ensuring no one approaches.

🜲 Creating a Sanctuary for you as Gil-galad would craft a private sanctuary just for you, a garden or a room within his palace where you can be alone—yet, even in solitude, he is there, watching over you. He’d fill it with flowers, many of which would be handpicked by him, a symbol of his claim over your heart. These flowers, while beautiful, would be the only ones you’re allowed to interact with. No one else would be permitted to approach them, much like no one is allowed to approach you.

🜲 At times when his fear of losing you overtakes him, he would pull you into his arms and hold you tightly, his chest pressed against yours, as though he could absorb your very essence. His touch would be firm, controlling, but always laced with an undercurrent of love, as though reminding you that you belong to him.

🜲 In private, Gil-galad would whisper words of adoration, calling you his “moonlight” or “little flower,” but in a darker tone, as though every syllable is a reminder of his dominance over you. His kisses would not be the gentle pecks you may have expected, but deep, passionate kisses that feel like a seal of ownership. He would kiss your forehead, your lips, your neck, and even the back of your hands, tracing the outline of your wings with his lips in an attempt to reinforce his connection to you.

🜲 Wings as a Symbol of Ownership His obsession with your wings goes beyond affection. He would often caress them, taking care to gently stroke the feathers. His actions would be both possessive and tender, as if keeping them safe from the world outside his control. He might even ask you to keep your wings wrapped close to you when others are around, subtly instructing you to hide them from view, further isolating you from others.

🜲 Gil-galad’s affection is not just about being near you; it is about controlling your environment. He would make sure you are always surrounded by his presence and by the things that remind you of him. Small tokens, like a necklace with a stone that glows faintly in your presence, would be given as gifts, symbolizing the bond he believes you share.

🜲 Whenever he speaks to you, his words are always full of dark devotion: “You are mine, and only mine,” he’d say with a calm yet possessive tone. He would speak of “forever,” of a bond that transcends time and space, convinced that your souls are intertwined in ways no one can understand. “Even if you wished to leave me, you could never escape,” he would softly murmur, his voice carrying an unsettling certainty.

🜲 In moments when you are lost in thought, reading or gazing into the distance, Gil-galad would watch you intently. He finds your moments of solitude the most beautiful because, in those moments, your wings seem to glow softly in the light, and your beauty is all his. He might approach you slowly, pressing a kiss to your temple or whispering sweet words that make you aware of his unwavering presence.

🜲 Isolating You Any potential threat, whether it’s a person or even a situation, would be swiftly dealt with. If a person expresses interest in you, he would use his kingly influence to subtly remove them from your life. At times, his methods would be underhanded, ensuring that you remain alone with him. His desire for exclusivity extends to every part of your life—your social interactions, your time, your freedom—everything is carefully curated by Gil-galad.

[crownedghostprince]

That’s My Emotional Support Wife!

Legolas x Female!Accident Prone!Reader

Fandom: The Hobbit

Legolas and (Y/N) had courted for about a decade before finally deciding to marry.  (Y/N) was the daughter of Lord Elrond, just slightly younger than Arwen, and after marriage she moved to Mirkwood to live with Legolas and her father-in-law the King, Thranduil.  Legolas didn’t mind how accident prone (Y/N) was, sometimes it was even sort of cute.  And now there are 13 dwarves in the cells of Mirkwood having to be dealt with whilst the Elves continue their parties, patrols and usual antics that the dwarves were unaware of until that day.

Requests: Closed. Requested: no.

Warning(s): None.

Note: This is sort of silly, so if you enjoy a fun fanfiction, this is the one to read! (Y/C) - stands for (Your Choice) and (Your Colour).

Word Count: 2,021

[Third Person Perspective]

(I couldn’t find any attached link to this picture from Pinterest, but it was under the account name “The Facegirl” when I found it. They seem cool from what I checked out.)

The dwarves were not happy to be locked up in the cells of Mirkwood under King Thranduil’s rule.  The elves would just pass by here and there as if it was an ordinary path to take.  These cells weren’t in dungeons or anything like you might expect, for the bars of the cells were incredibly tough and strong.  Therefore, there was no need to put the cells in such an inconvenient spot and instead it was closer to the main area where most Wood Elves just wandered through.  (This was also best as the Woodland Realm almost never had prisoners to jail).

So, the dwarves were trapped in their cells, waiting for Thorin to join them (hopefully with good news).  They’d tried breaking out of the cell in whatever way they could think.  From slamming against the bars with their shoulders, to kicking them with their legs and shaking them with their hands.  But still the cell bars held strong.  Bofur was the first to actually observe the elves, rather than sneer and ignore them like the others.  The others didn’t wish to make eye-contact or even look in their general direction.

Bofur watched, as many elves walked through speaking elvish and looking graceful.  Some elves were so graceful when they walked it looked almost as if they were floating across the floor, not even touching the ground.  He struggled to tell who was male and who was female, but the sounds of their voices definitely helped - even if he couldn’t understand their language.

Eventually he saw a beautiful elf with (Y/C) hair and (Y/C) eyes.  His?  Her? Dress was a beautiful mixture of pink and purple that fell past their ankles and hid their feet.  Thus, they appeared to be floating as they walked.  Bofur smiled, appreciating how beautiful the elves could truly be.  How graceful and--and she walked into a wall.  This got the dwarves quietly chuckling from they cells.

Even Dwalin was hiding his snicker.  They would laugh more openly, but they were in foul moods and didn’t want to anger the elves when the elves had an advantage against them.  The elf maiden didn’t seem to mind - hearing their chuckles with her good hearing - and laughed with them.  A shadow crossed the floor and Legolas landed with perfection as he came to check on his wife.  The dwarves’ faces immediately molded into scowls at the sight of the rude elf that found them and cast them into their cells.

They continued to watch as Legolas checked his wife’s face for cuts and smiled when she was cleared to be okay.  He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and took her hand, walking her to the staircase to continue her on her path.  She was not halfway up the staircase when she tripped and fell.  Luckily, Legolas was used to this and simply caught her and gracefully carried her the rest of the way.  He set her back down on the marble floors, kissed the back of her hand and returned to his position up high, watching over the area.  She curtsied and although the dwarves could not hear - or understand it - she thanked him.  “Ni ‘lassui en, Legolas.”

An hour later, Thorin joined his company in the cells.  He simply explained how he had not taken any deal with King Thranduil and that all the Elves could...well...let’s not translate that now.  The dwarves were upset by this news, feeling like they’d be trapped forever.  But Thorin knew there was a Bilbo Baggins somewhere out there.  And he would help free them.  He was sure of it.  Bilbo was not so sure.  Every time he thought he had a clear path to descend to the cells, suddenly a bunch of elves walked by.  He was thankful the ring he found made him invisible.

Some were going to patrol outside, some were laughing and telling jokes in Elvish, some were carrying wine and food, or decorations and others were reading a lovely looking book as they walked by.  The thing is this: Bilbo didn’t have many openings to sneak past and not bump into someone.  So instead he decided to follow them for a brief moment and saw them setting up a sort of party.  With decorations and a clear view of the sky where Bilbo could see the tinges of orange and pink beginning to appear in the clouds.

There were tables lined with bottles of wine and kegs of wine and cups for the wine.  There were a few tables of food, but mostly it was wine.  With lots of seats, some elves already perched on the staircases and some elves sitting up high on ledges already getting drunk.  Many were singing and some were possibly telling poems?  Or stories?  Bilbo wasn’t quite sure but it was a merry gathering that was forming.

‘Well,’  Bilbo decided to himself, ‘Time to find those dwarves.’  And so he walked back the way he came, sneaking down corridors of marble and past beautiful pillars with beautiful, intricate carvings running down them.  Soon his eyes laid upon, a (Y/C) haired elf with a beautiful dress and stunning eyes.  She was reading a book as she walked absentmindedly.  He decided to follow her and see where he ended up.

They walked for almost half an hour when he heard the familiar, grumpy dwarves’ voices as they hushedly whispered to each other in Khuzdul.  ‘Finally,’ Bilbo thought excitedly, ‘I’ve found them!’  He waited behind the she-elf, watching where she was headed.  By the time he realized she was about to walk down a flight of stairs and possibly injure herself, a blond elf was by her side with an arm around her waist.  Legolas was so accustomed to stopping his wife from falling down stairs it was almost a daily thing to catch her and gently lead her away.

“A, Legolas.”  She smiled to her lover with such a soft gaze he felt sure to melt under it.  Although the dwarves did not know it, ‘A’ was Elvish for ‘Hi’.  However, they simply thought it was an exclamation like the English ‘Ah’ when one realizes they almost walked off the top step of a flight of stairs.

However, (Y/N) was so accident prone she was no longer surprised when someone stopped her from walking into a wall, or a door, or out a window and this case was no different.  Bruises and cuts from falling down stairs was common for our silly she-elf lady.  Legolas sighed fondly.  “Hiril vuin, please do fall down the stairs before a most wonderful celebration.”  ‘Hiril vuin’ was Elvish for ‘my lady’ and was a sweet and simple way for Legolas to remain caring, but serious, in front of the dwarvish prisoners.

Bofur spoke up with a chuckle from the cells below, “Is falling down the stairs a common occurrence?  I would love to see such a performance everyday!”  He joked.  The dwarves laughed in agreement except for Oin who could barely hear what Bofur said.

“What did he say?”  He asked Gloin who was in the cell beside him.  His question went unanswered as Gloin continued to loudly laugh.  Legolas glared down at the cells whilst (Y/N) simply laughed with the dwarves.  She had a wonderful sense of humour - she has two older and fun twin brothers after all - and she was also used to these jokes which made it even more fun in her opinion!

Once the laughter had settled down a bit (Y/N) chuckled out, “I knew I should’ve been the King’s jester!”  and the howls of laughter sprung back up again.  Their thunderous voices bounced of the walls and echoed through the building.  Even Legolas and Bilbo chuckled at (Y/N)’s joke.  As the dwarves continued to laugh, crack jokes and sometimes just rest in silence, Legolas decided to simply ignore them and inquire about his wife’s current book.  “Oh!  It’s a book of Elvish poems and short love stories.  I fell in love with it after reading the first couple of love poems.  It even has some poems specifically to be read just before you sleep.  Oh!  I’ll find one of my favourites for you!”

She began to carefully flip back through the previously read pages, keeping her bookmark on her current page as she did so.  Bilbo took this chance to quietly sneak past the couple and down the stairs to the cells in order to look for the keys.  Legolas smiled adoringly as his wife quietly muttered the poem titles until she found the one she was looking for.  Although the Elvish is truly beautiful and wonderful to read, here’s the English equivalent instead:

“ Your Divine Beauty,

The stars crown your head, As you rest peacefully in bed, And the moon bathes you in its’ light, Kissing you with all its’ might.

Such beauty even the sun bows down, So its’ colours may reflect onto your white gown. Pink, orange and gold, Dare not touch or enfold.

For they will not dare, To hide your beauty nor ensnare.”

Although Bilbo and the dwarves had no clue what she said as it was in Elvish, still they folded to the sound of her melodic voice when she read aloud her favourite poem.  Legolas gently kissed her forehead when she was finished and sighed wistfully.  “I adore that poem so much now.”  He smiled down as their foreheads rested together.

“I’m glad you liked it, dear.”  She grinned, returning his kiss with a giggle.  Only a moment had passed when they heard approaching footsteps.  Bilbo snuck back to a corner in case they should pass him and the dwarves returned to their original scowls as two Elven guards came to a stop in front of the couple.  The woman curtsied to the guards and they returned with a bow.

“We’re sorry to interrupt, but the celebrations are beginning.”  They explained, carefully watching Legolas’ eyes as he sighed.

“Very well.  Then I shall not keep you any longer, my dear.  Please, go enjoy yourself and do not wait up for me.  I will join you shortly after I have finished my patrol over the cells.”  Legolas kissed his wife’s hand with a tenderness and care you only hear and see in romance books.

“Thank-you, darling.  I shall join them, but I shall still wait for you.”  She grinned with a cheeky glint to her eyes.

“Why do I bother to tell you to not wait, you don’t listen anyway.”  He chuckled sweetly.  “Very well.  Now go, before my father is disappointed with both of us being absent.”

“Ah, yes, I should hurry then.  Take care, darling, and try not to roughen up the dwarves too much.”  She kissed him once more before leaving with the guards to the celebrations.  Legolas sighed wistfully once more and did not move until she was safe out of sight with the guards.  He trusted them to catch her if she should fall.

But even if she is injured, they have healers that are always pre-prepared for her anyway.  He turned back and before he could ascend back to his post, the dwarves spoke up.

“So she and you are...well...together, huh?”

“She’s my emotional support wife.”  Legolas grinned mischievously, knowing fully well she could still hear them with her excellent Elvish hearing.  A second later his ears heard her voice in the distance,

“I heard that!”  And he smiled hearing her voice once more.

“You’ll do well to not disrespect her whilst you’re here.”  Legolas stared the dwarves down as he finally returned to his post, just out of their line of sight above them.  The dwarves rolled their eyes and proceeded to taunt him with funny comments anyway.  All were harmless, but they were fishing for a reaction from Legolas so they did their best to make it sound almost like insults.  He didn’t care enough to hear though, he was ignoring them and mentally reciting his wife’s favourite poem so when she was having a bad sick day he’d know it off by heart.

[elrondsimp]

Well hello I happened to wander into your ask box, and was wondering if you could write an Elrond x rreader where the reader grew up in a toxic home and has a lot of scars from it and elrond innocently asks about them and then they open up to him and it's really fluffy maybe.

if this makes you uncomfy please ignore.

P! Elrond x Gn! Reader

“Scars of home”

A/n: I wrote it platonically bc I didn’t it want it to be the “I’ll kiss your scars away” cringe. Makes me recoil I’ll be happy to make another one romantic though if you would like :>

In the tranquil halls of Rivendell, where the soft melodies of nature danced through the air, lived a human whose past was marked by the harshness of their home. The scars of their past, both seen and unseen, adorned their heart and body. However, amidst the timeless beauty of Elrond's realm, a gentle light found its way into their life.

One serene day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Elrond found himself in the company of the Y/n. The two had developed a quiet friendship, founded on understanding and compassion. Elrond admired their strength and resilience, though he could sense the pain hidden behind their gentle eyes.

As they strolled through the peaceful gardens, Elrond couldn't help but notice the scars that adorned their skin. “My dear friend, may I inquire about the scars you adorn?”

At first, they were hesitated, their heart beating faster with the memories that resurfaced. Yet, there was something about Elrond's presence that felt safe, and with a deep breath, they decided to open up to him.

"These are the marks of a difficult past," they began, their voice soft but steady. "I grew up in a home plagued by hate—a place that should have been filled with love and care, but instead, it was a place of pain and cruelty."

Elrond listened attentively, his expression filled with empathy, and he didn't interrupt as Y/n continued to share their painful memories. They recounted the struggles they faced, the emotional wounds that ran deep, and the physical scars that bore testimony to their survival.

As they spoke, Elrond's heart swelled with compassion for them. He offered them a gentle hand, a silent gesture of support and comfort. "You have faced so much," he said softly. "Yet, you are here now, strong and resilient, despite the scars you carry."

Tears welled in the Y/n’s eyes, moved by Elrond's understanding and warmth. They found solace in his presence, the weight of their past momentarily lifted. "Thank you," they whispered, their voice quivering with emotion.

Elrond smiled gently, reassuringly. "It is an honor to be entrusted with your story," he said, "and know that you are not defined by your past. Here in Rivendell, you are surrounded by friends who care deeply for you."

And in that moment, they felt a sense of belonging, of being seen and accepted for who they were, scars and all. Elrond's compassion had kindled a spark of hope within them, reminding them that healing and love were not beyond reach.

As the stars began to dot the evening sky, Elrond and Y/n continued to stroll through the gardens, their conversation now filled with lightness and laughter. A beautiful friendship had bloomed, and in Rivendell's embrace, they found a sanctuary—a place to heal, to grow, and to embrace the love that had entered their life.

In the days that followed, Elrond continued to be a steadfast presence, offering a guiding hand and a caring heart. And as time passed, Y/n's emotional baggage began to fade, replaced by the warmth of love and the gentle touch of healing, all nurtured in the tranquil haven of Rivendell.

[glykerniaz]

Our longing love

ᅠᅠᅠᅠ𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ glorfindel x top!reader ⋆.˚ ⠀ㅤ𓄼

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ✎ᝰ. ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 

 

Emile Anderson - Glorfindel ( tentative)

( synopsis. ) You are the sixth Istari sent to Middle-earth, a Maiar of Mandos. You met Glorfindel in the Halls of Mandos, and shared a deep romantic bond with him. When he was sent back for his second life in Middle-earth, no one ever imagined that he would meet you again in Imladris.

( tags. ) top!reader , bottom!glorfindel , Istari reder , using fingers , climax , male reader , soft , smut , friend to lover.

( a/n. ) i found out somebody request this- (My frist time wrtiting)

You never realized just how important you became in his life. The beautiful memories between you and him are always circling in his mind.

From the moment he met you after his death in the Halls of Mandos.

You are the shining light, radiant and calm, just like your Valar. You are his sanctity. Even the kiss you left on his lips imprinted upon his soul.

Oh... you made him pray to the goddess of the stars, Varda, but it seems the one who listened to him was the just Lord Mandos.

Until today, his prayers will come true.

The afternoon sky, bathed in sunlight, slowly shifted westward. After three long days of patrol, Glorfindel was desperate to ride his trusted steed back to Imladris. Yet, this time, there was something different, something special about the journey home.

Upon arrival, Glorfindel wasted no time issuing orders for the patrol to disperse before heading to report to Lord Elrond of Imladris. His golden armor shimmered brilliantly under the sun, and as he approached, a familiar sight caught his eye—a tall gray hat. In an instant, he recognized Gandalf, the Gray Wizard. But it was not Gandalf who made his heart skip a beat.

Eru, was he hallucinating?

His heart thundered in his chest, loud enough that even the sixth Istari, the enigmatic figure conversing calmly with Lord Elrond, might have noticed.

You were different.

But you were unmistakably you.

The one who made him hope for the halls of Mandos once more.

You were unlike any other Istari—no flowing, aged robes or dwarven-like beard. You seemed... human, more so than the last time he saw you. But he recognized you immediately.

You noticed him too. Your eyes met his, and a small smile played at the corner of your lips. Your movements were quiet and deliberate, but in a blink, you stood before him.

"Glorfindel," you greeted softly, your voice warm and familiar.

He swallowed hard, his usual composure faltering. He stammered, trying to form words, but you spoke first.

"It's been a while, Laurëfindil."

Eru, he was about to faint.

His cheeks burned, and the sound of your voice made him feel like a young elf again, inexperienced and hopelessly infatuated.

"Y-Yes," was all he managed to say.

You leaned closer, your breath brushing his ear as you whispered, "I’ll come to you tonight."

"Will you—will you really?" he asked, breathless.

You didn’t answer, only smiled before leaving him standing there, flushed and dumbstruck, under the curious gazes of Lord Elrond and the twins. Embarrassment surged through him, and he quickly excused himself, retreating with all the speed he could muster.

In the solitude of his chambers, he found himself scrubbing fervently in the bath, as if preparing for a sacred rite. The thought of you made the tips of his ears redden beneath his golden hair.

When evening fell, he caught glimpses of you from across the dining hall, though no chance to speak arose. It wasn’t until he returned to his quarters and heard the soft knock—knock, knock—that his heart leapt.

You had arrived.

Was he presentable enough?

Glorfindel barely realized how flustered he was as he opened the door. Before he knew it, he had thrown himself into your arms. He couldn’t recall the moment he surrendered to the strength of your embrace, but he knew he had longed for it, for you, deeply and fervently.

"Eru, you’re still as endearing as ever," you murmured, your lips curving into a gentle smile as you pressed your nose to his golden hair, planting a tender kiss there as though it were a treasure.

"I-I missed you. I’ve waited for the day I could return to Valinor—for you," he whispered, nuzzling against your chest. The door behind him clicked shut as if sealing him away with you, in your world.

His lashes fluttered closed as he rested in your arms. He would give himself to you entirely.

You laughed softly, holding him securely. Your strength, the firmness of your embrace, stirred thoughts in him that were unbecoming of an elf of his stature—thoughts he dared not voice but could not banish.

Who would have guessed you could reduce him to feeling like an inexperienced youth once more?

You led him to the bed, yet nothing untoward passed between you—not yet.

The night was spent in quiet conversation, sharing tales of the centuries that had kept you apart. He lay against your chest as though it were the most natural thing in the world. His bright eyes gleamed with warmth, his golden hair cascading like a waterfall over your shoulder.

Your gaze, unwavering and fond, made his lips curl into a shy, innocent smile. Yet Eru, even as he basked in your presence, his mind betrayed him with images unfit for an elf.

He imagined how it would feel to have your arms wrap around him, holding him as he lay beneath you, waiting for the heat of your touch to fill the void within him.

The thought made him flush deeply, his ears burning crimson. He swallowed hard, wondering what it would feel like to have your hands, your fingers exploring the places he had kept sacred.

He had never experienced such things.

But he wanted to.

And you would be the only one he would ever give himself to.

Glorfindel sat atop your chest, his hips tilting back to press into the friction between your hand and his lower body.

His pants had vanished, leaving only a loose, silky long-sleeved shirt that hung just to his thighs. His lashes fluttered closed.

His lips pressed together as if to stifle any embarrassing sounds from escaping-sounds that might disturb the neighbors. After all, elves have excellent hearing.

You can see his blunt cheeks when you tease him with a juicy finger. Who knows how well he responds to your finger when it stretches through his butt.

Glorfindel's , stingy, hard nipples, rancid under his slippery fabric with your chest and grip your hair tightly, surging you down to catch his poor lips.

Your mouth is like his paradise. Your touch circling him makes him tremble like a bullied rabbit.

Your finger acts excellently. It bothers and causes his thought to fade and think of the acacia of how deep your finger gets into him. His wall strangles around your finger, tightening every time his finger presses around.

You just teased him. Press your finger in his butt while your mouth occupies his cavity.

He was extremely obsessed, almost unconscious. Until — "Ahh!"

His sweet moan survived the longing kiss. His butt is crushed towards you like a rabbit that has been raised by his master.

You find his sensitive sweet kiss easily. His wall nibble to get your finger to touch like this, raging in.

He fussed out the clams, moaning together with a hug around your neck, like finding a mosquito in the midst of this distraction.

He wants to know what it will be like if what's in him is not your finger. But your thick chicken bar that makes you dream.

His slippery long-sleeved shirt was skinned up until he saw the stiff, rancid nipples that twitched to your touch.

His chicken betrayed him by sharpening the pearl colored liquid. The steep hill plows on your belly and demands your muscles to work.

Now he is so beautiful and seductive that you can almost stop breathing.

His hands are sandwiched to the side of your cheek. His red pointed ear twitch His face was hot and his white body turned red like a plum.

He brings you near his bird for you to drink a beautiful pink candy on the top of his chest. Your other hand will not let him have to freeze when it pumps his cock until now. Glorffin is almost liquid as a jelly on his body.

Your fingers, your hands, your mouth, pamper him like a shift will make him exhausted until tomorrow's ridge.

"Hng! Don't-Don't stop"

He is fully outside. He is now yours

"Don't hold back my beautiful voice. Let them hear who my golden flower belongs to, Laurenfindel"

His eyes wide open. His walls fasten around your fingers, holding your fingers in him when everything is raging, wandering at him. Until his tens of thousands of years of innocence is lost with your hands.

"I-hngggg, I'm done (your name)! Ah-ahhh!"

His pearl colored water shed on your hands. His belly was blurred by his curls and he made a beautiful moan at his ear, until it was almost impossible to stop.

You kissed his forehead and rubbed his cheeks lightly. His golden hair group looks messy. No. — He looks messy on your chest.

"So beautiful, my flower"

You compliment him and withdraw your finger from his butt. Then gently massage at his beautiful soft entrance.

He fell down and tucked his face on your bouncing stall. His body is not shaking. And his chest rises and falls heavily from trying to breathe.

He is liquid on your body. He is yours.

During your thoughts, the floating mule can sense his mischievous hands. His beautiful blue eyes, like the spoon, look at you lustfully, but they hide it with a glow.

Glorfindel's magefully lips will speak with a hoarse voice from this blissful activity.

"Can I give you some flavor?"

After tonight, the elves in Imladris look at Lord Glorfindel and you with strange eyes.

dividers ➵ @chachachannah @anitalenia @cafekitsune

[fantasydreamland]

Angel

arwen undómiel x fem mortal reader

Summary: After orcs destroy your village you escape into the woods where you feel the life slipping from you from your injuries. That is, until an angel finds you.

Notes: 18+ only!!! Lightly based off the scene where Arwen rescues Frodo. A little smut (mostly kissing), fluff fluff fluff, mentions of violence/injury, wlw

Word count: 2294

masterlist

You run for your life into the thick woods after orcs had just destroyed your village. You grasp both arms tightly around your bleeding stomach where you were stabbed. Eventually, your stumbling steps become more difficult before you turn light headed and fall to the ground. As you lay there under the stars you feel the life slowly slipping away from you.

Your vision suddenly goes bright white and you know that you must have died. A beautiful angel comes into your view and you stare up at her with clouded eyes.

“Telin le thaed.” (I have come to help you.) Her angelic voice softly hums in your ears. “Lasto beth nîn. Tolo dan na ngalad" (Hear my voice. Come back to the light.)

You subconsciously follow her voice into the light around her until the bright light vanishes and the night sky reappears above you. The angel comes clearer into your sight and you realize she is an elf.

“Your injuries are far too grave. We must get you to my father.” She says as she examines your wounds.

Suddenly, there is a distant roar of orcs and she shoots up, staring sharply in that direction.

“We must hurry.” She says as she wraps her arms around you and picks you up.

She was much stronger than you expected as she swiftly lifts you onto her horse before climbing on behind you.

"Noro lim, Asfaloth.” (Ride fast, Asfaloth.) She says to her horse before speeding away.

During the ride you began to lose consciousness many times but each time you started to go limp you would feel her hug you tighter. You tried your best to head her silent command to stay awake but you begin to drift away again.

The next thing you remember is feeling her lift you from the horse and carry you. You had such a strong feeling of safety wrapped in her arms, your head tucked into her chest, that you had never felt before. She places you down onto a bed and your eyes begin to open again. You see her worried face looking down at you as an older male elf comes into view.

“Lorna.” (Sleep.) He says as he waves a hand over your face and you instantly fall into a deep slumber.

**********

When you wake again she is the first thing you see, her dazzling blue eyes peering down at you. Then your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings. You look around at the beautifully built bedroom with swirls of orange and pink skies outside the open windows. Soothing sounds of the waterfalls outside drift into the room.

“Where am I?” You ask, but it comes out as a croaked whisper.

“Rivendell.” She calmly says. “The house of Elrond. I had to bring you here to my father. He was able to heal most of your wounds but you will still need to be careful and move slowly. You slept through most of today as you healed, which is good.”

You move the blanket and lift your blood stained shirt slightly to examine your stomach where only some faint marks and soreness remained.

“I cleaned the blood from your skin but you will need to change into fresh clothing.” She says, handing you a clean night dress.

You begin to sit up and hiss in pain. The wounds were gone but you could still feel some sharp pains in your stomach.

“Are you alright?” She asks, her voice laced with light concern.

You nod as you sit up from bed. As you go to move your legs from the bed you hiss in pain again and clench your stomach, shaking your head.

“I can help you dress, if you would let me.” She softly offers.

The idea made your heartbeat quicken and you were not sure why. You nod to her and she helps you to sit up properly before gently beginning to remove your shirt. You move your arms to cover your now exposed chest as your cheeks heat. She grabs your clean night dress and gestures your arms up. You reluctantly lift your arms, your breasts now on full display. Arwen tries to be respectful but you catch her eyes dart quickly to your chest and her breathing seemed to increase like yours was.

The dress fits perfectly as she helps you pull it down. She holds her hands out for you to grab to stand, and you do. You wince slightly as you stand up, the skirt of your dress dropping to your ankles. She slightly lifts the skirt back up to help you remove your dirt covered pants. The dress falls to cover your lower half as she pulls your pants down but when her fingers brush against your exposed legs your breath catches in your throat. There is a strange tension in the air as she assists you back into bed.

“I will have supper sent to your room and leave you to rest.” She says.

“Thank you.”

She nods and turns to leave.

“For everything.” You say as she pauses to look back at you. “For saving my life.”

A smile brightens her plain expression, the first one you had seen from her.

“I am just lucky to have found you.”

“I believe I am the lucky one.” You joke and she chuckles. “Forgive me, I have not even asked your name.” You realized.

“Apologies, it’s Arwen.” She smiles softly. “And you?”

“(y/n).”

“Well, goodnight (y/n). I shall see you in the morning.”

The way your name sounds in her angelic voice clouds your mind, making you take an extra minute before you respond, “Goodnight, Arwen.”

**********

You enjoy your supper as you watched the gorgeous sunset. Once the sky was dark, you found yourself unable to fall asleep. After tossing and turning for what must have been hours, you get up from the bed. You were finally able to move freely, the soreness of your healed wounds no longer bothering you.

You peer into the empty hallway as you decide to explore the beautiful castle you found yourself in. A mural on the wall captures your attention and you stand there for a long moment, admiring it.

“(y/n)?” A soft voice startles you.

Arwen approaches you wearing a night gown with a white robe draping off of her shoulders. She looked so ethereal with the moonlight glowing off her porcelain skin. It took your breath away. She looked like a ghost and a goddess at once, hauntingly beautiful. For a brief moment you thought you were dreaming.

“Are you alright?” She asks and you realized you were so entranced by her beauty you forgot to respond.

“Yes, apologies.” You clear your throat. “I could not find sleep.”

“My mind is restless tonight as well.” She steps closer to you and you again question why it makes your heart race.

“Do you… do you want some company?” You ask.

Her eyes light up and she smiles.

“I would love some company.”

You follow her down the long hallway, no longer observing the art on the walls, your attention now solely focused on the artwork that was leading you to her room.

You follow her into her bedroom and she sits on the bed before patting the spot beside her and you sit. She was close enough now you could smell her sweet scent overtaking your nose. A beautiful combination vanilla, lavender, and pine fills your senses. The room was dark, only lit by a single candle and the blue moonlight.

“Thank you again, by the way...” You say, breaking the silence. “For saving my life.”

“You are most welcome.” She gives a soft smile and places her hand on top of yours.

Your eyes meet briefly and you feel a quick spark before she awkwardly returns her hand to her lap.

For a while you chat about a number of things. You ask about her life and of Rivendell, hanging onto every word she says. You felt as if you could listen to her beautiful voice talk about nothing and everything for an eternity.

“There has not been a good moment to ask until now… what happened to you in the forest?” She questions timidly.

You sigh heavily, tears forming in your eyes.

“Orcs… they… raided my village.” You begin. “They… slaughtered everyone, burned our houses… Not many of us escaped.”

“I am so sorry…” Arwen whispers, placing her hand on yours again, this time keeping it there.

You place your other hand on top of hers and give her a grateful smile, a few tears falling down your face.

“I am just not sure what to do now... Or where to go…” You admit quietly, moving your hand on top back to your lap as she keeps her hand placed over the other.

“You are welcome to stay here for as long as you need.” She slightly squeezes your hand.

“No, no. Thank you, but I do not wish to intrude on your life.” You shake your head, her offer was so generous but you did not want to burden the elves here.

“It would be no intrusion at all.” She reassures you. “I would really like to get to know you better.”

You can’t help the blushing smile as your eyes meet. The genuineness in her deep blue eyes as she looks into yours makes your heart soar. You forget to breathe again as you take in her features up close. She was the epitome of beauty, pure ethereal perfection. Everything from her gorgeous eyes, to her plump lips, to her soft skin, to her long flowing hair. It made you question again if maybe you really had died and this was all heaven.

You saw her eyes taking in your features as well, and although you did not know it, she was also thinking about how you were the most beautiful mortal she had ever seen.

“You know…” You say lowly. “I thought I was already dead when you found me. And when you appeared to me, I was convinced I was.”

She raises her eyebrow at you.

“I… I thought you were an angel.” You admit.

“Is that so?” She smiles widely, gently squeezing your hand again.

You blush deeper at her response.

“I still… think you may be an angel…” Your eyes go wide when you realize you said that out loud.

“Is that so…” She whispers back.

Her eyes meet yours again but this time there’s a heat behind them. You watch her eyes drift down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. You couldn’t help but do the same as she leans in slowly. She places the gentlest kiss upon your lips before pulling back to look into your eyes again with a questioning look. You lean back in towards her and place a firm but chaste kiss to her lips in response to her unspoken question.

The sweetest smile crosses her lips before she brings them back to yours. You don’t hesitate to kiss her back. The kiss is slow, soft, testing. You part your lips and her tongue gently swipes across yours.

You pull back to breathe and your eyes connect again with pure fire behind them. You both move to lay down on her bed. Arwen shuffles closer to you before capturing your lips again. This kiss is much more demanding, hungry. Her tongue boldly intertwines with yours in a passionate dance. Your heart races as you pull your bodies closer together. Your hands move into her silky hair as she holds you against her by the waist. She moves her lips down your jaw and to your neck, kissing and sucking gently. You lean back as she continues down your collarbone. The feeling of her lips on your skin and her thigh pressing between your legs made your head dizzy.

Her lips move back up your neck until they reach yours again. Your hand wraps behind her neck, pulling her closer to you as you kiss her like you were dying of thirst and she was the sweetest wine on earth.

She eventually pulls away and smiles down at you. Your heated gaze softens as you smile back at her. You both giggle before she leans in and places a final kiss to your lips. She moves to fully lay down beside you. You lay there for a moment, smiling and gazing into each others eyes.

“Will you stay here with me tonight?” She says softly as she brushes a piece of hair from your face.

“Of course.” You smile back at her.

“I have a strong feeling that fate brought us together…” She whispers. “That we were meant to meet…”

“I believe so too.” You whisper back.

For a long time you simply gazed at eachother, never speaking a word. Somehow it still felt like you both were saying so many things as your eyes remained deeply connected. Eventually your tired eyes fall heavy and you drift off to sleep. Arwen watches you for a while longer, taking in your mortal beauty and peaceful state of sleep as your chest gently rises and falls, until eventually she also closes her eyes to rest.

When you wake in the night you find her arm draped over your waist and smile to yourself. You snuggle in closer and wrap your own arm around her. The movement causes her eyes to open and meet yours. When she notices the position you were now in she smiles and places a soft kiss to your nose before closing her eyes again. You both drift away again into a more peaceful rest than either of you have had in a long time, excited for what the future may now hold.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

The Ménage à trois series

First one-shot - Pleasurable torment

Pairing: Thranduil x Elrond x Fem. Reader 

Themes: Smut | Soft | Aftercare | Established Poly relationship

Warnings: Kissing | Dom. Sub. Aspects | Overstimulation | Penetrative sex | Orgasm denial | some cock warming | Size kink | Cream Pie | Nicknames | Oral (male receiving) | Dirty talk / Degradation | Dacryphillia | Masturbation (Male) 

Word count: 2k words

Rating: 🔥🔥🔥

Minors DNI | 18+

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog.

"Come, come, my petal, surely you can take all of me into you."

Thranduil smirked as he lay there, all cocky and arrogant. He smirked even more when you had to grab onto his arms while lowering yourself onto him.

"But she listens so well," Elrond purred while he watched. "Does she not?"

"Indeed," Thranduil looked on wolfishly when you mewled. "Aww," he tsked. "Do you need my help, petal?"

As much as it embarrassed you to do so, you had to admit you needed help. Both Thranduil and Elrond had more size than many, and if you were honest with yourself, you liked it when either one of them, or both of them, took control of your body. "Y-yes," you whined pitifully. "P-please, my lord."

Thranduil growled and narrowed his eyes. He was going to enjoy this immensely. "Distract her," he muttered as he sat up and grabbed onto your hips.

Elrond grinned wickedly as he moved to you, kneeling beside you, cupping your chin, and making you face him. His lips grazed the corners of your mouth, his tongue flicking and probing before moving to your lips, forcing them apart. When you hummed and sighed into his mouth, Elrond groaned and deepened his kiss, to try and distract you from what Thranduil was about to do to you.

And how you felt it—his thick cock pressing deep into your throbbing cunt, his rich and deep moans spilling out while his fingers gripped tightly against your waist. Elrond's kisses muffled your whines, your little whimpers, his free hand snaking down to play with your clit. That jolted you even more, and the fire in your belly grew when his tongue danced against yours. 

Thranduil kept still, letting you adjust to his size. You squirmed when Elrond kept playing with your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You moved, rocking your hips slowly, and then Thranduil grabbed onto them. "Stop," he hissed, digging his fingers into your flesh until you complied. "Do not move, my little petal. Just sit still and keep me warm."

You would have whined had Elrond not opened his mouth over yours again. Thranduil rested against his pillows, content to watch while Elrond had his way with you. 

And how he had his way with you, letting go of your chin so he could hook an arm around your waist, holding you tight as he played with your clit, forcefully this time, his mouth muffling even more of your whimpers. "So obedient," he pulled away to croon. "So pliant. I wonder how pliant you could be." Before you could even think of replying, Elrond sought your lips again, moaning ever so deeply when you sighed and melted against him. 

Thranduil ran his hands up your torso, making them glide over the warm flesh before reaching up to cup your breasts. You shivered when skilled fingers played with your buds, moaning into Elrond's mouth when little jolts of pain mixed with pleasure flashed through your body. Please, you wanted to say. Please finish me.

Only the words never came. So overcome were you by the pleasures that kept washing over you that you seemed to have lost all control of your tongue. You could feel your walls fluttering again, pulsing around Thranduil's cock. You prayed that they would allow you to orgasm this time, and satisfy your release-starved body. Elrond had other ideas, and as soon as he heard your breath reducing to shallow pants, as soon as he felt your body stiffen, he pulled away, joining Thranduil on his side of the bed. 

You panted, your hands splaying against Thranduil's torso as you fought to steady yourself. Your walls still throbbed around his cock, pulling him in deeper and you felt like sobbing a little. The king moaned when he felt it, his own urges finally overcoming him. He could wait no longer. "Ride me, little petal," he ordered, his hands landing firmly on your waist. "Ride your king."

But, before you could start, he had one final order for you. "But you are not to come, yes?" He cooed as you lifted your head and nodded. "Not until we allow you to."

"Yes, my l-lord," you whimpered, bracing yourself as Thranduil let his head fall back into the pillows, his mouth parted in a silent moan.

The pain and pleasure you felt every time his length sank deep into your hole and struck all the right places brought tears to your eyes. Thranduil's hands tightened their grip on your waist, holding onto you, guiding you, and bringing you down harder as his own hips started to slap against the insides of your thighs. You could only throw your head back as you bounced on his cock, your babbles growing more incoherent as they mixed with your moans and pleas.

"Pathetic, little petal," Elrond watched while he pumped his length. He kept his rhythm on a slow, even keel, eager to finish in that pretty little mouth of yours. "Mere moments have passed and already you're begging for his seed. Or is it rather that you want your release?" Elrond tutted and whimpered, his greedy eyes lighting up at the sight of your heaving breasts. "Is that it?"

More tears pooled around your eyes as the sensations you felt grew all too intense. "B-both m-my l-lord," you managed a stuttered answer. "B-both. P-please."

Thranduil forced open his eyes, groaning with delight when he saw your tears. He reared up and forced himself into a seated position, his feet tucked neatly under his calves. "You know you cannot have both at the same time, yes?" He ran his lips over the corners of your eyes, gently lapping at your tears of frustration. Thranduil released his hands and hooked both arms around your waist instead, moaning into your hair when your arms twined around his neck. "You will have to be patient, my pathetic little petal."

You couldn't speak, could barely breathe. Thranduil held you tighter, his cock ramming into you and making you see stars. " 's t-too m-much m-lord," you whined into his shoulder. "It's a-all t-too m-much."

Thranduil merely chuckled when he heard your soft mewls. "Come come, my petal," he cooed into your ear. "Pick up your pace. Let my cock empty itself in that sweet little cunt of yours."

You pulled your head back, your breath getting knocked out of your lungs when Thranduil crushed your lips with his, his tongue licking past your bruised and puffy lips. 

His thrusts grew too intense. His embraces grew too intense. His kisses left you senseless, blind to everything but what he was doing to you. You felt it, his body trembling, his breath growing shallow and ragged with each passing second. You used every ounce of willpower you had not to come all over him right then and there. Elrond continued to pump his cock and watch, his mind growing hazy with thoughts of kissing his way all over your breasts.

And Thranduil didn't last for much longer. Mere moments later, he buried himself to the hilt, balls deep, making you cry out as pleasure mixed with little jolts of pain. He groaned long and deep and throaty as his cock spasmed, spilling its contents inside your throbbing walls. He held onto you while his chest heaved and the last of his seed was spent inside of you.

Only it wasn't over. Not yet. Elrond needed to be satiated, as well as you. Thranduil gently laid you down, saying, "Finish him off, petal," He huffed as he struggled for breath. "I will take care of you while you do so."

Elrond took your hand. "Come my petal," he cooed. "And wrap that pretty mouth of yours along my cock."

You made your way over to Elrond, wrapping a hand around his cock when you reached him. You settled into a rhythm that he liked, your hand tightening and releasing, your spine tingling with his moans, and then, when his muscles tightened, you took him into the warmth of your mouth, taking him as far as you could manage, your tongue licking its way against the underside of his cock.

Elrond's breath grew shallow and laboured as you started to bob your head up and down, your cheeks hallowing, and your moans were muffled when he grabbed onto your hair. He wrapped his hands around your locks, holding them out of the way for you. The warmth of your mouth was so sinful, your tongue so luscious as it flicked against his tip before warming the underside of his length, well, it nearly made him cum inside your mouth right then and there. Thranduil sneaked a hand under your belly, to play with your soaked clit, moaning when his fingers grew slick with both your essence and his.

Your body trembled and trembled when a finger slipped into your hole, piercing you and pumping you. Elrond started to gently thrust his hips while your mouth worked his cock, your moans growing as deep as his when he grabbed onto your hair, gently pushing your face down and making you take him even deeper into you. Thranduil inserted a second finger, curling them and stretching your walls, groaning in satisfaction when he felt your walls clench around them. He kept pumping you, inserting a third finger, hitting that sweet spot of yours, and making you draw in a sharp breath while you worked on Elrond's cock. His breath grew shaky, and he moaned deeply, his cock throbbing against your tongue. He pumped your sweet mouth, thrilling when you somehow managed to make your way down to the base of his cock. When you got that first taste of him, you took him as deeply as you could, not stopping until he moaned your name and you felt his warmth spray over your eager tongue. You swallowed all that he gave you, relishing his deep moans and pants. You pulled away, licking your lips, only to find yourself being pulled onto your back.

Thranduil kept his eyes on you, whispering sweet nothings while his fingers kept slipping into your slick heat. Your eyes crunched shut when Elrond placed his greedy mouth over a breast, fondling the other with his hand while he licked and laved, gently nipping at that soft bud and tugging it between his teeth. It felt so good, to submit to your lovers like this, letting them have their way with your body, take their pleasure from you. And they were so, so good to you in every aspect, never making you want for anything in any way.

"That's it, petal," Thranduil murmured when he felt your walls tighten. "Come for us. You know you want to."

You felt like you were pulled under as the world seemed to stop spinning, as your body felt like it had snapped like a coil while your orgasm ripped through you. You nearly sobbed as your body was finally sated, and you heard deep groans from both ellon when you poured onto Thranduil's hand.

The world went quiet while you struggled to steady your breath. After what seemed like an age, you felt yourself being carried, probably by Thranduil. From the subtle scents, you were almost certain you were being lowered into the bath.

The warm, fragrant water was soothing, as was the sponge that glided over your shoulders. "You did so well, my love," Thranduil crooned as he rubbed your aching shoulders. 

"We're both so proud of you," murmured Elrond, seating himself on the other side of the tub and picking up your feet, so he could rub them. You managed a sleepy smile but your eyes started to droop, and one of them urged you to rest, saying that they would take care of everything. You don't even feel the rest, of being lifted, of a soft towel gliding over your skin. You didn't feel the soft nightgown being put over you, the brush that whooshed gently through your hair, or the strong arms that carried you to bed. Your eyes fluttered open when Elrond ran a thumb over your cheek. Thranduil held you as he always did, his chest to your back, one leg between yours and an arm slung over your waist. You closed your eyes again, thoroughly loved and content. 

[xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx]

Bad Moon Rising

Boromir x male!reader

Requested: Anonymous

Summary:

heyyy so idk if you still take requests for LOTR but if you do i have one! its been rlly difficult to find male readers and as a trans guy i cant stand to read the fem readers so i decided to specifically request one instead. I was wondering if you could do headcanons or a short story about the fellowship having the male reader who is secretly a werewolf in their company. I think maybe he transforms during a fight or smth and it freaks people out a bit. Platonic relationships are good except for maybe theres some slight crushing with Boromir. Thanks so much!

Author’s Note: Sorry to keep you waiting. I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you see this! I have been in my Boromir and Faramir era, so I am loving finally writing for them

There were few skin-changers left. There were fewer still that continued to shift forms - lest others became aware of their ability. Decades upon decades of being hunted for the entertainment of orcs caused your people to live in fear.

You kept your identity as one of the wolf-changing folk under wraps, choosing to walk under the sun and posing as the race of man. Only a few non-skin-changer individuals had learned of your secret, yet none of them were within your present company.

A rather odd company, or fellowship as Elrond had termed it, it was. A wizard, an elf, a dwarf, four halflings, two men, and a skin-changer (or was it simply three men? After all, everyone believed you to be a man, but you weren't really. Were you? This would be added to the list of things to mull over while trying, and failing, to get a fitful nights sleep).

Despite your secret and the initial distance you tried to keep with the others at first, you found yourself easily brought into the fold. Trying to quietly hold in your laughter with Aragorn as Legolas and Gimli started bickering for what must have been the hundredth time. Helping Sam collect firewood and wild berries to make dinner. Eagerly listening to Gandalf's accounts of his previous adventures, and sharing quite a few of your own high spirited ones that he delighted in. Discovering your and Frodo's similar taste for literature, resulting in many discussions on the hobbit's favorite books - your way of lightening his mood while undertaking such a heavy burden.

Of course, your favorite moments were often with Merry and Pippin. Boromir undertook the task of training them for combat, something he roped you into. You feigned hesitance, but really you did not mind doing something to make the Captain of Gondor happy. It was only an added benefit that the hobbits seemed delighted for you to join them.

Admittedly, you had grown rather fond of Boromir. Something fleeting you would surely get over once the fellowship was over. The experienced and generational fear and trauma of being hunted made you hesitant to open up to anyone about being a skin-changer. Boromir, along with the other members of the fellowship, seemed kind, yet would they understand why you kept such a major part of yourself secret? You cherished the connections that were taking root, but as the weeks wore on confiding in them seemed to grow ever more impossible than if you told them from the beginning of the fellowship.

--

"humph," you let out a small grunt as you stumbled over Merry and Pippin. Once again, you were too busy warring with your thoughts to notice the group had been called to a halt. "Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere, I did not mean to run over you two," you apologized, hoping the hobbits wouldn't be upset thinking you had overlooked them.

"Oh, it's quite alright," Pippin answered and shot a look towards Merry.

"Yes, we'll get you back when you practice sparring with us," Merry teased.

"Ah, I see, you two aren't going to take it easy on a poor son of man like myself? Tsk tsk I shall be too ashamed to show my face in society ever again," you started to break into a laugh at the end of this sentence, which was only made worse when the pair adopted stiff postures and what they called 'elegant, knightly airs'. As your laughter drew to a close, a warmth brushed against your shoulder.

"I take it then we are ready to begin tonight's training, little ones?" Boromir smiled at the two, but not without taking a moment to shift his glance towards you.

"We were born ready!" Pippin asserted and darted off to lead the way to a clear area next to the night's campsite.

"Pip, wait for me," Merry called after him.

"I admire how cheerful they've managed to stay," You reflected aloud while Boromir chuckled at their antics.

"Agreed, perhaps they should be the ones teaching us instead," Boromir mused whilst the two of you walked over to join the hobbits.

You hummed in response, reaching the hobbits and drawing your swords. Merry entered one of the opening stances Boromir had shown him and engaged in a round of sparring with you.

"Very good, Merry, remember to keep your weight centered. You never want to let your opponent find you unbalanced," You instructed as the sparring continued. You had to admit, he (and Pippin) improved very quickly under your and Boromir's tutelage. They had learned to use their small size and speed to their advantage - something causing you to focus more on Merry's swift parries and thrusts. One misstep, and you found the hobbit sweeping your feet out from underneath you.

"It seems I should have heeded my own advice," you laughed. Merry offered his hand to help pull you up, more of a gesture than a reality, yet you still took it as you regained your feet. "Very well done," you ruffled his hair, a satisfied grin growing on his face.

"Are we ready to go again?" he asked eagerly. Glancing towards Boromir, who was still sparring with Pippin, you returned your gaze to Merry and nodded. The second round had only just begun when the voice of Legolas shouting something in elvish made everyone in the encampment pause.

"Orcs!" Aragorn shouted in the common tongue. Quickly, you and Boromir closed ranks to better protect Merry and Pippin. In a fraction of a second, the previously peaceful hillside was suddenly swarming with orcs. No matter how many you cut down, more continued to flood around you. It wasn't until you were faced with a particularly large and foul smelling orc that you realized you were cut off from Boromir and the two hobbits.

At first, you were fine holding your own against the orc - until others started to draw nearer. The orc was not so skillful with a sword, but was able to utilize his brute strength to disarm you. The force from his disarming blow sent a shock of pain through your arm and to your shoulder. A quick look at your surroundings, and you were surrounded. Several yards away, you could see the orcs were closing in on Boromir, Merry, and Pippin as well.

You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your head as the world seemed to slow down. Your eyes fluttered closed and a chill ran up your spine. You would do what you must.

Skin-changing wasn't painful, but it wasn't comfortable either. It felt like a rather intense itch as your bones reformed a fur sprouted from your skin. Time and events felt different as a wolf - as though they were slightly fuzzy and happening very fast. It was almost an out-of-body experience: you could hear yourself growling and snapping at the orcs that left a foul taste in your mouth. You could see yourself, pouncing on them and clearing a way to your companions. You could feel the intense itching return as the last of the orcs were slain, your bones shifting and the fur retreating.

You quickly grabbed your cloak from where it had fallen to the ground and wrapped it around yourself. Shooting a look around to ensure no one was watching you at that moment, you picked up your pack and slipped into a change of clothing before rejoining the group.

Upon your re-entrance, you could feel many pairs of eyes burning into you. You joined them in putting things back in order after the skirmish, but it seemed no one dared to speak. By the time you and the others were finished, the sun had set and dinner was ready but you had no appetite.

You took a seat a couple yards away from the rest of the group, facing away from them as they ate and engaged in sparse, whispered conversations.

"Care if I join you?" You looked up and gave a weary smile to the speaker, Boromir. He was holding two bowls of the stew Sam must have managed to pull together.

"Sure," you sighed. "You may be the only one here that cares to keep my company now." He lowered himself to the ground beside you and offered you one of the bowls, which you hesitantly accepted.

"I'd rather you not say such things. Everyone is merely... surprised is all," Boromir reassured.

"Thank you, but I'm sure seeing one of their companions go through a skin-change may have been too horrifying, even for those such as Gandalf." A silence pervaded after you made this statement. The lack of a response brought tears to your eyes - it must have been true then...

"I cannot speak for the others," Boromir finally broke the silence. "I found your transformation, or skin-change, to be-" he paused, searching for the right word. "-beautiful."

"I - what? Really?" Of all things you had been expecting, it wasn't this.

"Yes. I have only ever heard of you, your kind, in stories from legend. I never thought I should see a skin-changer in my lifetime, but I have now, and I have never seen a more stunning sight." This brought a flush of heat to your face

"If I knew, I would have shared this part of me with you, all of you, sooner. I hope you may understand, but I was afraid." Boromir shifted his own bowl of stew to one hand, freeing his arm to wrap it around you. Feeling his warmth and the soft strength he seemed to always carry brought a wave of comfort.

"Well, you shall have nothing to fear, so long as I stand by your side."

[kingofvipers]

Lord of the Rings Masterlist

Aragorn

Legolas

Gimli

Boromir

Frodo

Sam

Pippin

Merry

Faramir

Elrond

Lindir