#modern reader in middle earth
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Elrond With A Modern Medical!Reader in Valinor
Request: Not sure if this is fic or just headcanons but: Modern!reader in middle earth who was a neurosurgeon in her old life and is now in Valinor working with Elrond to translate medical concepts to elven language before she dies and help advance their medical practice. Some differences between elven and human biology are found out in the process, itâs all quite fascinating to them both. She assists in a few operations but I imagine they donât have many surgical operations to do in times of peace because people just arenât getting injured like they used to during the famed battles against Morgoth and Sauron in middle earth. She helps on occasion but them elves are graceful and not injury-prone. - Anon
A/N: I was having trouble turning this into a fic, and since you gave me the option, not minding if I did a headcanon, I went with the latter. I had fun writing this, I also made their relationship ambiguous. Enjoy!
When you happen to arrive in Valinor, dazed by its eternal beauty and tranquillity, Elrond, with all his calming presence and wise demeanour was the first to greet and help you settle down. He was kind to welcome you into his new home.
During your time there, you and Elrond spend countless hours in his extensive library, trying to translate complex medical texts and concepts into Quenya, while he marvels at the intricacies of human detail in neurosurgery. To him, the ability to heal the brain by getting so practical and up close was fascinating.
âYou humans certainly love your precision and details,â he would say as he smiled while reading through a description of a delicate brain surgery. You on the other hand would laugh and tell him that not all humans are so meticulous, following up your comment by sharing more medical mishaps from your world.
It is when you discover the biological differences between elves and humans, that things in the work become all the more interesting. You discover that elvesâ regenerative abilities allow for healing preparations to be cut down and rushed to the healing wing, unimportant. Just knowing this, leaves you speechless as he casually mentions recovering from an injury that would have left a human incapacitated.
âSo youâre telling me that you can heal from a stab wound in a matter of days?â you ask, incredulously with jealousy lingering. Elrond would simply nod along with a serene smile as he continued to translate the prewritten text on the paper you provided. âI wish I had that. Would have saved me all those trips to the ER.â
Assisting in medical practices in Valinor is rare but rewarding. Elrondâs precise, yet holistic approach to medicine complements your surgical expertise perfectly. Together, you manage to save a few elves who came in with nasty injuries, mostly from hunting trips gone bad.
As time passes, you are further blown away when Elrond teaches you their famous art of healing through song and rare herbs, enchanting your understanding of medicine. You do find the elvesâ ability to enter healing trances particularly fascinating.
âSo you justâŚsing them better? Like kumbaya and poof! Healed?!â you asked one day as you attempted to wrap your head around the concept, prompting Elrond to chuckle. âIn a manner of speaking, yes.â
As time passes, your collaboration deepens both your understanding and respect for each otherâs knowledge and expertise. Elrond is continually impressed but your surgical and modern techniques, while you are captivated by the elvesâ natural form of advanced healing practices. This welcomed late nights in the library often turning into philosophical discussions as Elrond is thrilled by your stories of modern technology, and you are equally captivated by his tales of Middle-Earth.
You even meet a few of his family members during your stay as words of another human dwelling in Valinor. âWait, you all fought a literal Balrog? Those fiery beasts?â you asked one evening as you sat around a table chatting with those who encountered the creature. âIf you all were in my world, you could have used a fire extinguisher to put the flames out, or just douse water on them.â You leave most of them in laughter and confusion.
Due to meeting other elves beside him, you get the opportunity to practice your healing methods on them, though, they rarely allow you to since they usually appear fine even when injured. âSo you couldnât have hit your head a little harder for me to have something to examine instead of magically healing?â you disappointedly asked one of Elrondâs family members.
That has been the relationship for most of the encounters when an elf decides to come in sporting an âinjuryâ. âYou said you cracked your skull four days ago while hunting but Iâm not seeing any injury. Do you mind if I hit you so I can have an actual injury to work with?â
Like you, even Elrond has his moments of being light-hearted, despite his dry sense of humour, when things donât go according to plan. If the technique is too complex, heâll jokingly say, ��Of course, if all else fails, we just use magic.â Of course, you blink at him wondering if he was being serious or joking.
The partnership between you and Elrond as your work in Valinor developed certain areas of elven magical was tedious but also worthwhile. Even the relationship between you brought each other comfort and upliftment. âI suppose Iâll be remembered as the strange human who brought surgical scalpels to the Blessed Realm and threatened to beat people in their heads,â you joked.
Elrond usual response is filled with a sense of gratitude as he makes a toast in your honour. âYou will be remembered as a pioneer and someone we are grateful to have encountered. I am glad you were brought here,â he fondly cheered.
Even as your time in Valinor progresses, you and Elrond continue to explore new ways to incorporate your medical practices into their elven healing. Each time an elf stops by for healing, you sometimes have to threaten them to come in with noticeable head injuries or youâd give them, while other times, you are lucky to have something to deal with. At least, during your years there, you managed to get a lot done.
Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @aconstructofamind @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life
#elrond x modern!reader#elrond headcanon#elrond imagine#elrond scenario#elrond x reader#elrond#lord of the rings imagine#lord of the rings headcanons#lord of the rings x reader#silmarillion x reader#silmarillion imagine#silmarillion headcanons#middle earth x reader#middle earth imagine#middle earth headcanon#modern reader in middle earth#lotr x reader#lotr imagines#lotr headcanons#x reader insert#x reader fluff#house of elrond#silmarillion#lord of the rings#doodlepops writings â¨
401 notes
¡
View notes
Text
My Heart Is Yours [11/200]
Fandom: The Silmarillion Pairing: Maglor x Modern Fem Reader (Pre-Relationship) Note: This is where I'll be putting the fics I titled 'Ever Love', I had forgotten I already had a series for Tolkien x Reader.
On AO3
You felt Maglor's eyes on you and turned, "What? Is something wrong?"
"Nay, I justâŚ"
It was then when it hit you. "Ah, is my foreignness too obvious?"
Maglor hesitated, "If I say yes, would you be offended?"
You shrugged, "No. In this case, it's the truth. I mean, you go out for⌠ah patrolling your lands and find an unconscious woman who very clearly doesn't belong, honestly? I would be concerned if you weren't. I can't, for the life of mine figure how I even got here, and you are a Lord, not even mention a Prince, who is under constant attack by an enemy, yeah, I get it, you're weary."
"You are⌠taking this surprisingly well," Maglor blinked. "I would have expect more⌠ah, shall we say protestations."
"I can imagine. And under normal circumstances I would, and would be loud, but this is clearly not the world I was born into and I⌠well, I can hardly be throwing fits, I need your help," you looked around, "and it pains me to admit it, but your protection as well. So, I'll behave."
Maglor fixed his eyes on you and you did your best not to flinch. The elf had one intense stare, but you had not lied. This was not your world, clearly and you needed help, the best thing you could do was to earn the elf's trust just enough to a) not be killed, b) be protected and c) get help getting home. In the end, whatever it was that Maglor was looking for, he found something, he gave you a sharp nod. "Very well, but you do understand that I will need the truth, yes?"
"Of course, I would expect nothing else. And I rather be honest voluntarily than not."
Maglor flinched at that, "I would not torture you for that."
"I would hope not," you shrugged, "but in my world, some would. I rather not take any chances."
"How can you be so calm?"
"Oh, I am not. I am simply pretending to be calm, I'll probably cry and have a freak out when we are back in your⌠holdfast? Castle? Manor? But as long as we are in open ground, I'm keeping it together."
The Gaze returned, "Very well. And worry not, we are less than half a day ride from my Holdfast."
"Thank you, Maglor."
"You are welcome, my Lady."
"Maglor? Please call me Y/n."
#the silmarillion fic#the silmarillion#maglor x reader#maglor#reader insert#modern reader in middle earth#my heart is yours#ever love#pre relationship fic
27 notes
¡
View notes
Text
A Gremlin's Dream
AN: Felt cute. Might delete later.
Genre: Modern male reader in ME (sorry ladies and other folks this couldn't be gn)
Summary: Without thinking, you grab Belegâs hands. "Donât do it," you hiss. "Donât save Turin Turambar. That guy is a walking disaster. Leave him to his tragic fate, trust me. Itâll save you a lot of trouble."
"Ahhhh!" "Ahhhhhh!" another voice echoed back, just as horrified.
You blink into the darkness. One moment, you had been enjoying ice cream with Princess Diana in what you assumed was a perfectly normal, if slightly bizarre dream. Now, youâre here, yanked into an unfamiliar scene.
"It is I, Beleg!" Hands shoot out of the gloom and grab your flailing arms.
Standing before you is a tall, glimmering figure with the kind of ethereal glow only an elf could pull off. Behind him, another figure shuffles nervously, looking just as confused as you feel.
"What the fuck?" you whisper, your heart pounding. You squint at the elf, and then it clicks. "Beleg Cuthalion? The guy from The Silmarillion? The chad who dies? Holy shit!" Your eyes dart to the gleaming blade in his hand. "Is that⌠Anglachel? Oh my God, itâs the doom sword. The smooth, freaky sword of doom! Later to be forged into Gurthang."
Beleg nods gravely, as though your outburst makes perfect sense. "Yes, I am Beleg."
Your brain short-circuits. Maybe itâs time to cut back on caffeine before bed.
"And I am Gwindor," the other elf adds, stepping forward with an awkward smile.
You blink, trying to process this. Of all the moments from The Silmarillion to dream about, your subconscious decided on The Children of Hurin. The part with the most tragic, dramatic nonsense. Clearly, your inner mind is a sadist.
Without thinking, you grab Belegâs hands. "Donât do it," you hiss. "Donât save Turin Turambar. That guy is a walking disaster. Leave him to his tragic fate, trust me. Itâll save you a lot of trouble."
Beleg frowns, his expression skeptical but patient. He doesnât pull away as you, driven by sheer desperation, launch into a frantic explanation. You ramble about Turinâs endless brooding, the accidental wife situation, and, of course, the dragon.
Gwindor, meanwhile, looks increasingly uncomfortable. His eyes flick to Beleg, silently asking if this is normal behavior.
As Beleg leads you through the dark woods, you marvel at your dream stamina. Somehow, youâre keeping up with the elvesâ impossibly fast pace. Is it adrenaline? Dream logic? Or sheer pettiness keeping you going?
Maybe this is your chance to rewrite The Silmarillion. Who needs Turin when you could have political drama and Thingol being weirdly tall? You start plotting.
If you can get Beleg to return to Thingolâs court, maybe you can even catch a glimpse of Queen Melian in action. This dream is shaping up nicely.
Eventually, Beleg settles for a camp closer to Melian's Girdle. His mind has not forgotten the limits of your mortal body.
Beleg's heart visibly twists as he gazes at you, his friend, now under some trickery of the foe.
Gwindor stares into the flames, his voice hesitant. "It isnât unheard of. Perhaps the orcs⌠tampered with his mind. He will recover. At least Queen Melian should know."
Beleg nods glumly. Something is deeply wrong.
You continue to ramble about visions where Beleg is slain by your-Turin's, as you refer to yourself in third person, hand . The madness in your eyes unsettles Beleg in ways he canât articulate.
Meanwhile, you crouch by a river, staring at your reflection. Your very handsome reflection.
"Wait," you mutter, tilting your head. "This isnât me."
The face staring back is sharper and stronger, with piercing gray eyes and long dark hair. Freakishly tall now, you, proud short king that you areâcanât entirely hate the change. But the realization hits like a boulder.
"Oh, come on," you groan, burying your face in your hands. Youâve transmigrated into Turin Turambarâs body.
Standing frozen in the clearing, you look up, wide-eyed. Beleg and Gwindor turn to you, concern etched across their faces.
To their shock, you begin to laugh. The sound is wild and unhinged, echoing through the woods like a battle cry. Birds scatter. Squirrels flee. Even the trees seem to lean away in discomfort.
"Fuck you, Morgoth!" you roar, grinning from ear to ear. "Here I come!"
In Angband, Morgoth frowns. The sudden, inexplicable dread that fills him is a foreign sensation. Somewhere, the melody of Arda trembles, a discordant note twisting through the fabric of the world.
Hurin, chained high in his seat of torment, glances down into the woods below. His breath hitches. His son, standing alongside two elves, is giggling with a manic gleam in his eye. For the first time in years, Hurin feels a pang of something other than despair.
You catch your fatherâs distant gaze and give a little wave, your grin bordering on maniacal.
"The game is on," you whisper to the skies before skipping back toward Beleg and Gwindor, leaving behind a clearing filled with scattered leaves and stunned silence.
#the silmarillion#children of hurin#hurin#beleg cuthalion#modern guy in middle earth#modern reader in middle earth#fluff#posted for shits and giggle#turin#turin x beleg#male reader
16 notes
¡
View notes
Text
plants arenât measured in time (sneak peek)
pairing: fĂli / modern!reader
word count: 354
summary: you should have expected that explaining vines to a dwarf would be difficult whether said vines contained chloroplast or dropped croissants
a/n: another modern reader in middle earth fic bc iâm ridiculous & this seems to be what the people want lol. âafdehar is the dwarven month equivalent of mid-october to mid-november, the direct translation being âanvil moonâ (dwarrow scholar).
âso after you announce the day, you just scream afterwards?â
âin the weirdest way possible, yes.â
âperfect! hold my tankard and watch this.â
a cheshire grin was cleverly hidden behind the tankard kĂli handed to you. you were beyond ready to watch nearly every dwarrow and elf in the dining hall contemplate whether it would be classified as treason to (somewhat violently) shut the young prince up before he began doing⌠whatever it was he was about to do.
prince kĂli, in all his youthful stupidity, leapt atop the closest table with a flourish where the mirkwood envoy was attempting to enjoy their dinner. key word, attempt.
he cleared his throat obnoxiously, as if the clattering of his kicking aside dishes and centerpieces didnât call enough attention to himself. nearly every set of eyes in the room were on him as he cupped his hands around his mouth. the glimmer of mischief in his eyes was all too familiar to many in the room and promised nothing sort of chaos to follow in its wake.
âit is âafdehar, my dudes!â
a deep breath, then a wail erupted from his throat that most would compare to a feral cat in heat or a dying boar, depending on who you listened to. not even ori could spell out the letters to convey just how gibberish it sounded which served to make you laugh all the more.
from his seat next to uncle at the head of the royalsâ table, fĂli found himself focusing not on his little brotherâs antics, but on the jovial laugh you rewarded them with. it was a merry sound that would have brought him to his knees if he werenât already seated.
he was lucky that everyone was too focused on wrangling kĂli to notice the effect you had on him. then again, you could be on the other side of arda and you would still have his attention and his heart all the same. it was a dangerous thing, to be so utterly taken with someone whoâs spoken all of a handful of words to you, but fili couldnât help it.
#jjâs on the dumb bitch juice#fĂli durin#fĂli durin x readee#fili durin#fili durin x reader#modern reader#modern reader in middle earth#fic sneak peek#the hobbit fanfiction#the hobbit imagine
24 notes
¡
View notes
Text
OK BUT A MODERN FASHION GIRLY IN MIDDLE EARTH
Just imagen you packing for a trip or smt with all ur makeup, clothes and accessories then you all of a sudden when u just closed the bag u end up falling down in the middle of the road in front of either Thorin's company or the fellowship. They end up taking you with them cus somehow everyone is a gentleman and when its time to either celebrate or eat somewhere nice (Rivendell or Rohan for example) you wip out you makeup bag and the nicest/most flattering clothing pice you can find. THE WAY THEIR JAWS DROP WHEN THEY SEE YOU WHEN YOU "TRY" TO LOOK GOOD- BEAUTIFUL, GORGEOUS, WONDERFUL,AMAZING, STUNNING!!!!
EVERYONE WONDERS AND YOU END UP TELLING THEM EVERYTHING FROM WHERE TO APPLY CONCEALER, BEST BLUSH PLACEMENT, HOW COLOR THEORY ALSO APPLY DO DRESSING YOURSELF, WHAT LOOKS BEST ON WHAT BODY TYPE AND ALL THE DIFFIRENT AESTHETICS :D
#modern girl in middle earth#lotr#the hobbit#thorin oakenshield#bilbo baggins#thorin's company#dwalin#legolas#aragorn#boromir#fili and kili#kili#fili durin#bofur#x reader#lotr x reader#lotr x you#the hobbit x reader#the hobbit x you#i wanna read it
238 notes
¡
View notes
Text
To Erebor - Part 5
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the second part for the second movie.
Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, KĂli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too graphic but i certianly wouldn't want to be caught reading it, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, FĂli & KĂli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, FĂli Lives (Tolkien), KĂli Lives (Tolkien), sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it, tags tbd tbh lol
Word Count: 4,758
A/N: OMG!! I graduated! I got a job! I finally edited this part! I'm so tired y'all, I'm writing this author note at like midnight lol. ~AnywhoOOo~ I hope you enjoy! let me know if you'd like to join the tag list to be directly notified of chapter updates! <3
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
You woke to the usual clanging of pots and pans as breakfast was being cooked. Kiliâs hand was still on your waist and his arm was still your pillow, though you were sure itâd gone numb in the night. You gently placed your hand on his cheek and tenderly ran your thumb over his delicate cheek bone. He looked so handsome sleeping beside you, it made you smile like a giddy little schoolgirl. You regretted having to remove yourself from his warm embrace, but you had to start packing your things and getting ready for the day. A much easier task now that you didnât have to worry about your hair. When you were finished and your bag was neatly packed, you woke Kili.
He stretched his arms above his head then his eyes popped open, âGood morning!â, he sat up energized and ready to conquer the day.
âGood morning!â You replied with a kind smile, ever impressed by his liveliness in the mornings, âStart packing, Bomburâs almost finished breakfast.â
He shuffled about beside you while you worked on the last half of your bracelet, waiting for breakfast.
The porridge was the usual white sludge meant for nutrients, not flavor. You rinsed the dishes in the river with Kiliâs animated storytelling as you usually did after meals. Thorin had the company moving out when you returned.
The dayâs walk was very scenic, mostly idyllic forests with little rivers, where the lighting truly brought it all together. You walked between Kili and Fili so they could give you the basic run-down of sword handling and bowmanship.
By the end of midday, the company was on the border of the forest and a field. Thorin decided to make camp there and told Gloin to make the fire while Nori, Bifur, and Oin set traps in the forest to restock the reserves or something, you werenât listening, too focused on Kiliâs hand in yours as he led you somewhere.
The extra sparkle in his gorgeous brown eyes told you he was very excited to teach you about archery. As the resident Archer, no one (his brother) could compete for your attention by correcting him. He was also excited to watch you use his bow and his arrows; an honor bestowed upon an extremely select group.
Kili was very protective of his bows, not just because of the time it takes to make such an incredibly valuable weapon, but because one time in his youth he worked for weeks carving a brand-new bow from solid wood, making the string by hand, and engraving runic talismans into the handle. He worked very hard on that bow; Only to have one of his snot-nosed neighbors snatch it from him while they were playing and accidentally snap it in half after a misstep. Kili was furious, absolutely inconsolable. Fili had to drag him from the scene of the crime to the forest just behind their family house, so he didnât hunt the kid down and destroy him. He didnât say anything to Fili, just cursed and milled about the clearing in frustration. At first, his brother didnât know what he was doing, concerned he was setting a malicious trap for the offending child (such a spiteful trap was almost sprung after another incident of the same nature); but as Fili silently watched, out of armâs punching reach of course, he realized his brother was just looking for a piece of wood to make a new bow. Fili built a fire to keep the chill of the setting sun at bay, not wanting to abandon his brother to the coming night. He watched the younger mumble curses in dwarfish as he whittled the wood seemingly in his own little world. Kili hadnât really taken notice of the fire his brother built despite using its light and occasionally throwing more wood on out of habit while he stayed up all night to make the string and engrave the handle. Their mother, Dis, saw them through the window in the back door in the middle of the night. Fili was sitting on the ground, relaxed, leaning against a tree while he watched his brother on the other side of the blazing fire, Kili was sitting on a rock hunched over his bow as it came together. Dis knew from that moment Fili would always look after his little brother, or at the very least try his best. The craftsmanship of the bow he made that night was nowhere near his previous bow, but it could still shoot the straightest arrow in the village. It would do till he grew again and needed a bigger one.
Kili brought you a few yards away from the camp, out of ear shot but not out of sight. After the crash course in archery during the dayâs walk, you were as prepared as you could be. And excited as ever. Kili carved a target into the trunk of a tree with his dagger, not worried about losing misfired arrows in the underbrush because the fletching on the end of all his arrows were bright yellow.
He situated you both at a reasonable distance from the target and demonstrated again how to place your fingers on the string and what position to be in when you pull the string back. When he handed you the bow you were not expecting it to be as heavy as it was. Without an arrow, you tried to pull the string back like he showed but you couldnât move it. You looked at Kili.
âJust pull it back Y/N.â He encouraged, with a proud little smile.
âI am, Kee,â you said still straining to pull it. It wouldnât budge. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what could be wrongâAh! He got it!
âHere, let me help.â He came up and stood behind you. âThe draw weight for my bow must be too high for you,â he said into your ear, his low hushed tone not going unnoticed as he got into position. He shuffled his legs behind yours and placed his hand below yours on the handle and his fingers above and below your slimmer, softer ones on the string. They were much stronger and much thicker than yours. Two of your fingers were the same width as one of his, a thought that quickly had you blushing. The irresistible mental image of moaning out for him while being deliciously stretched around his capable digits as he cooed praises, was nearly too much. You thanked god he was behind you and couldnât see your bright red face.
He let you do most of the work pulling the bowstring to allow you to get a feel for the mechanics and amount of potential energy the movement created.
âAndâŚâ he made sure you were ready, âRelease.â
You both let go of the string at the same time.
âPerfect! Now letâs try it with an arrowâ He got one from the quiver on his back and handed it to you.
You nocked the arrow like he taught you then got into position. He helped you pull the string back like before, allowing you to control the aim.
âReadyâŚâ You said to him this time, âRelease!â
The arrow flew across the field and landed smack in the middle of the bullseye.
âNo way,â Kili said in complete disbelief. You both went over to inspect the target. Sure enough, the arrow was deep in the carved center circle of the tree.
âThatâs amazing Y/N!â He turned to you with the biggest smile youâd ever seen. You were as happy as him, jumping up and down excitedly.
âI want to try again!â You walked over to your previous spot and lined yourself up, waiting for him to join you. He chuckled at your enthusiasm and grabbed another arrow on the way over. You repeated the process like a practiced dance, enjoying more than anything that he was your partner. He allowed you to aim again, but this time the arrow didnât hit its mark or the tree at all; It planted itself firmly into the leaf-covered underbrush.
âAwe,â you pouted, âI rushed, next time Iâll take my time.â You went to grab another arrow from his quiver, accidentally getting your face in his. For a moment, you could feel the heat of his lips and his breath tumbling over onto your own in a near ragged pant.
When you backed away you both politely laughed it off, though you could have sworn he leaned closer to you in that brief moment.
You shot all the arrows he had in his quiver. A handful hit the target, and a few even got close to the bullseye, but none hit the center like the first. Being a good coach, he encouraged and teased when the time was right. Â
Once again in your own little world, it was like nothing mattered except him. His radiant smile, his contagious laughter, his excitability; it was all consuming. As the day wore on, your arms got tired, and you were ready for a break. You helped him collect the arrows in and around the tree, so he could show off for a bit like boys do for pretty girls. He did trick shots and action shots and even pinned the pinecone you threw for him to the tree. His skills were very impressive. Your return to the camp was met with impressed exclamations.
âWas that a bullseye on the first shot?!â Bofur asked, having seen the miracle even from the other side of the camp.
âAye!â You said excitedly, proud of your accomplishment. You didnât even realize that you were beginning to use their dialect.
âGood job lass!â Oin said, along with the others happily celebrating with you.
After all that training, you were hungry for a snack. You rummaged through your bag in search of the grapes you had foraged with Bilbo the day before. They werenât in your bag where you left them, carefully wrapped in your old T-shirt.
âThey couldnât have fallen outâ you thought as you scanned the camp for the thief, already having an idea of the culprit. You stopped when your eyes fell on Kili across the camp, leaning against a tree with a shit-eating grin as he popped a grape into his mouth.
You were livid. It was a total invasion of your only private property: your bag, and you felt extremely violated.
You couldnât say anything to the offending dwarf or even look at him in fear of your rage exploding onto him. Your anger evident from your expression, the camp fell silent as you walked to Kili.
That feeling in Kiliâs chest sunk to his boots when he saw how angry you were; he knew heâd gone too far. You snatched the grapes from his hand and walked (stomped) into the field beyond the camp.
âY/N waitââ he tried to follow you into the field.
âNOT NOW KILIâ you snapped at him over your shoulder in a tone he didnât quite think you were capable of. He stopped in his tracks at your tone, the same one his mother used when she was very cross with him. The other members of the company who heard the commotion snickered at Kiliâs self-inflicted misfortune.
You sat in the field, soaking up the sunshine and eating your grapes while you calmed down. Kili moped around camp like an abandoned puppy; it was quite a pitiful sight.
When you finished your snack, you took a few deep breaths to get the anger from your system and allow your thoughts to come together to properly explain to Kili why you were so mad. The youngest Durin hesitantly joined you in the field when he saw you were done with your grapes, his footfalls crunching the grass beneath him alerting you to his presence. He sat next to you clearly a little nervous by how he picked at the grass.
âIâm sorry,â he said, looking at the ground. âIt was just supposed to be a joke, honest,â
âJoke or not, Kili Durin, you shouldnât have gone through my stuff!â You wanted to make sure he understood how unhappy his actions made you. He cringed at his full name. âYou violated the only sliver of privacy I have out here!â
âSorry, Y/N,â he said in a regretful voice youâd never heard from him before. âI shouldnât have gone through your bag.â
You sighed and looked over at him. âI forgive you Kee,â You took another deep breath, satisfied heâd learned his lesson, âJust donât do it again, ok?â
He smiled, happy to be back on good terms with you, âI wonât, I promiseâ. You smiled too, his infectious charm melting what little remained of your anger. You gave him a hug, knowing you both needed physical reassurance.
He sat with you in the field for a while, content to stay in comfortable silence. Youâd been eyeing a beautiful patch of flowers a few feet away since youâd sat down. You shifted so you were laying on your stomach to get a closer look at their vibrant hues and decided you wanted to use them, but how? Kili moved next to you, mirroring our position, to see what you were looking at. Then inspiration struck.
âIâll braid them into your hair!â You said excitedly. He gave you a look of surprised confusion.
âWhat?! No!â he was immediately against the idea and even backed away from you as if youâd jump on him any second like his brother might. âWhy donât I put them in your hair instead? Theyâd look much better on you.â He desperately tried to come up with a reason to avoid the inevitable onslaught of mocking heâd have to endure if he agreed to your plan.
You brought yourself to a kneel so you could look him dead in the eyes with a blank expression, âPussy,â you said.
He scoffed and got all huffy and puffy, âI am not a pussy!â He said defensively, his cute accent got thicker when he was flustered, it made it so hard to take him seriously, âI just think the flowers would make you even more beautiful than you already are.â
You blushed deeply at his words and looked away from his charming little smile to keep your thoughts from a more baser mindset and to think over his offer. He started twirling the end of one of the braids heâd done the night before between his fingers. It was a sweet and absentminded motion, to which you relented with a sigh, âAlright, but you have to teach me how to use a sword after.â
âDeal!â He gave a hearty nod. You got your hair stuff from your bag and your bracelet to work on and hopefully finish while Kili did your hair. You picked the prettiest flowers and put them in the extra fabric of your shirt like a delicate basket. He dragged over a stone to sit on and got to work undoing the braids and brushing your hair out.
You didnât realize how tight heâd made the braids till the tension was released from your scalp. You sighed in pleasured relief as he moved your hair around with the brush. That sound immediately pricked his ears.
âDoes that feel good, princess?â He looked down at you and smiled as he massaged the sore parts of your head. You were too lost in the feeling his skilled hands were creating to react to the pet name.
Once he massaged the soreness away, he parted your hair and began braiding. Kili had a vision of what he wanted to do to your hair. He wanted a thick band like a crown around the top of your head and four small thin braids scattered across the rest of your loose unbraided hair.
You were on an entirely different plane of existence. You felt so calm and relaxed and taken care of with his undivided attention, it was like nothing youâd ever felt before. His tranquil voice when he asked for a flower every now and then was the only thing you could hear. It felt like you were floating, your body sun warmed and peaceful.
When Kili was putting on the finishing touches, Fili came and joined you in the field to see what you both were doing, sadly pulling you from your lovely state of mind.
âKili wouldnât let me put flowers in his hair.â You pouted after the older brother inquired about your change in hairstyle.
âEven after he rummaged through your bag!â Fili feigned offense on your behalf with a smirk as he laid on his side in front of you both propped up on his elbow.
âShut up, Filiâ Kili huffed, ashamed of his previous actions, as he carded his fingers through your loose hair to make sure it was laying properly.
âAwe, Kiwiâs embawwassed,â you said in a baby-talk voice, making you and Fili laugh a little.
Kili stopped combing his fingers through your hair and tangled them in the loose hair at the back of your head. He pulled your head down to make you look up at him looming over you. He was about to say something, but the inadvertent dominating gesture caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, stalling any thoughts he tried to voice.
You were both stuck in that trance for just a moment, yet it took an eternity to pass. He was unable to look away from your pleasure pinched eyebrows and slightly parted panting lips. You were captivated by his handsome blushing features and the fire in his eyes. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, to meet his lips in heated passion.
âGood gods you two,â Fili rolled his eyes. His sudden interruption snapped Kili back to reality so he could release your hair. âGet a room,â Fili finished his statement.
âShut up, Fili,â you both said in unison with faces equally ablaze and eyes cast anywhere but at each other. The elder just looked at you two and laughed to himself, he knew at that moment you were both madly in love.
âHereâs your brush, Y/N.â Kili handed it to you, wanting to change the subject.
âYes, thank youâ You took it from him and hastily returned your bag to camp. You met Kili back in the field for sword training. His brother was still there passively observing (waiting till he had to step in to correct the younger as this was not Kiliâs area of expertise).
Bilbo allowed you to borrow his sword so you could get an idea of what a properly fitted one felt like without your wrists being torn to shreds by the other much heavier swords of the company. Kili walked you through basic moves and positions to teach you how to make your weapon like an extension of your own body. When he tried to speed up the movements and have you come at him in mock battle, you faltered and messed up the arrangement of poses.
When this happened, Fili of course would step in with a simplified version to help you. Before long, you had an audience, and the watchful eyes and extensive fighting prowess of Thorin and Dwalin. Kili was no longer the teacher but the sentient-sparing mannequin. The sequence of positions and movements became longer the more you worked at it. It felt amazing to be capable of so much. You knew it was just choreography, but it made you better now than you were before.
You were beginning to sweat under your thick tunic. The physical exertion was getting to Kili as well. When you took a water break you removed your shirt, the coffee brown padded camisole you wore underneath being far more breathable, but much tighter than your usual outerwear. It left hardly anything to the imagination.
Your less-dressed return to the now-stamped-down grass of the makeshift training area was met with impressed exclamations, wolf whistles, and light applause. You blushed and pretended to be a fashion model at the end of a runway. They found it very amusing.
Kili came back wondering what the commotion was about.
He saw you waiting for him. You hadnât noticed him approaching yet, too busy putting on a silly little show. He loved seeing you like this, confident and carefree, not worrying about how you looked and focusing on something that was far more rewarding: having fun. He used the few seconds you were distracted to admire you. Your half up half down hair heâd just braided and styled, was blowing softly in the wind, and your short unruly baby hairs were matted to your sweaty forehead framing your face. Your camisole highlighted the alluring curve from your ribs to your hips. The hem of the fabric was ridding up on your waist, revealing just a sliver of your lower tummy. Your pants kept where they were, hugging tight to your thighs and bottom.
âTwo can play that gameâ Kili thought, not even trying to hide his mischievous smile. He took his shirt off and threw it in his bag.
You looked up and saw him coming to meet you. The long bangs that framed his face were clinging to it now from his perspiration. He was smirking, knowing he caught you slightly off guard. His prominent pectoral muscles bled into his strong thick arms. His waist tapered at his hips where his pants were beginning to ride low, revealing his defined adonis belt in its retreat. He exuded power as he walked towards you with his arms out a bit from his side, and his palms facing you, as if he were challenging you.
âOhho, itâs serious now, is it?â you said over a light chuckle, feigning being taken aback by his friendly challenge.
âOh, it sure is.â He returned your light laugh and with a smug expression he tapped his sword against yours where it hung at your side. He knew he was flustering you. He could see it in the deepened flush that colored your cheeks and how your thumb picked at the leather-covered hilt of your sword.
You had to bite the inside of your lip rather hard to keep your eyes above his exposed shoulders. It had been so long since youâd felt so physically and mentally attracted to someone. The way he was looking at you made your panties dampen at the scandalous thoughts that his honeyed chocolate eyes made race through your head.
If Thorin hadnât said, âReady positionsâ, in that barking tone of his, youâd have jumped Kiliâs bones and rode him off into the sunset.
You both got into the starting positions you preferred. Thorin shouted âCommenceâ in Dwarfish. Kili came at you with harsh blows, which you perfectly countered like youâd been taught. You were able to quickly move yourself, so you were standing at his side. You took the opening and swung for his exposed ribs, but he easily blocked your attack. You pressed your blade against his to force him back and give up some ground. He stood steadfast in his heavy boots, however, and pushed back against you, getting his face close to yours to tease you.
âGood job, you remembered how to keep your grip on the sword.â He said with mock celebration. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your footing. He glanced at your lips where your teeth were worrying your lower lip; A habit he noticed when you were focused or nervous.
âIâve been taught well, Archer.â You shot back, as suave as you could manage under the conditions. He threw you back so he could reset his stance.
âWeâll see about that, IbinĂŞ,â he said, flustering you again with that mischievous grin as his native language easily rolled off his tongue.
You charged at him, and your blades collided with a loud metallic clang. Your sudden advance surprised him, he backed up a few steps. Cheers came from your audience.
âIbinĂŞ?â You strained while your blades met again in a brute force pressing match. âWhat does that mean?â
Kili shoved you back and swiftly turned around, a trick he hadnât yet revealed in your spar. He abandoned his blade somewhere off to the side and spun around again but crouched in his movement so he could swipe your legs from beneath you. You fell to the ground with a muted thud, your weapon knocked from your grasp. Kili scrambled to straddle your hips, pinning down your legs with his and your wrists above your head. You tried to fight against him, but his strength and weight are much greater than yours.
He panted above you, smiling like a cat who got the canary, âIf only it were you straddling me,â he whispered under his breath and winked at you discreetly. Your chest was heaving, making your breasts ebb and flow with the rhythm. The erotic tension was palpable between you.
âWe have a victor!â someone said from the sidelines to break your daze. Kili blushed and stood and helped you from the ground. Your audience clapped a little then dispersed to the camp a few feet away.
You leisurely walked away from the encampment along the edge of the forest to catch your breath. The extra sway in your hips and a casual glance over your shoulder enticed Kili to follow you. He walked beside you. You looked up at him delighted he got the hint and followed you. He leaned over to say in a voice that was deeper than normal, âIbinĂŞ means my gem.â His words took a moment to register, a delayed blush colored your chest and neck.
He bit his lip as a thought played behind his eyes. Growing bold from the adrenaline still in his veins, he wrapped his hand around yours. He picked up speed till he was running with you trailing behind. He took you far from the others. The sun was setting, painting the sky in those vivid colors that only dusk and dawn brought.
Kili slowed to a stop and used his grip on your hand to bring you in front of him. He took a step into your personal space.
âLabathmizi means I adore you.â He gingerly placed his hand on your cheek like he was handling the thinnest, most precious glass in the world. You were blushing profusely, your gaze danced from his eyes to his lips. âAbnâmulzi means you are beautiful.â He pecked his lips against yours for a moment then backed you against a tree and pinned you against it with his strong hand on your hip. The prolonged eye contact was making you pant. His voice was low and rough with arousal, âAzralizi du-nâmrul, IbinĂŞâŚâ His head ducked down so his lips brushed against yours. ââŚmeans I want to fuck you, my gem.â He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that surpassed any expectation you had. You lifted your leg over his hip, his hand went from your hip to your thigh, an encouraging movement, and it felt like it was searing into your cloth covered skin. It slid up to your ass cheek and urged you to grind against him. Your hand was on his bare shoulder and the other tangled in his hair, scratching and pulling lightly on the soft brown tresses at the nap of his neck. You whimpered as his hardening member pressed against your soaking core. Kili met your movements, making himself hiss at the delicious friction you were both craving.
When you broke the kiss for air as lust flooded your mind and loins, âThatâs really hotâ was all you could manage.
You were becoming addicted to his kiss. The way his thumb would glide against your cheek and the soft, barely there little whimpers he was making as you deepened the kiss were driving you mad with need. His tongue won its fight against yours when he gyrated his hips perfectly to grind into you, causing a moan to bubble from you. When he broke away, he looked at you, panting.
He suddenly went silent and perfectly still. His eyebrows pinched in a sudden focused confusion as he looked past the tree you were pinned to. This immediately concerned you.
You opened your mouth to ask if he was ok, but he put his finger to his lips to silence you. He closed his eyes and turned his head to focus on something; dwarfs and their connection to the environment around them still confused you.
His eyes shot open in a panic, and he tore himself away from you so he could pick you up bridal style.
You clung to him as he broke out in a sprint back to camp, âA pack of orcâs are coming.â Â

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Taglist <3: @letmelickyoureyeballs, @nessarosefiction, @akari-rioan
#kili x reader#Reader-Insert#Slow Burn#Modern Character in Middle Earth#During The Hobbit#How Do I Tag#Canon-Typical Violence#KĂli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien)#implied soulmates#Dwarf Culture & Customs#Freeform#Holding Hands#light smut#it's really just a brief description nothing too detailed#Cuddling & Snuggling#Sleepy Cuddles#Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members#Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship#Fluff and Humor#Domestic Fluff#Tooth-Rotting Fluff#Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?#Hair Braiding#Dwarf Courting#My First Tumblr Fic#Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies#FĂli & KĂli & Thorin Live#Thorin Oakenshield Lives#FĂli Lives (Tolkien)#KĂli Lives (Tolkien)
121 notes
¡
View notes
Text
The Boromir version of this request
*シŕźË⧠âđđ¨đŤđ¨đŚđ˘đŤ đą đđđđđđŤâ â§ÍâşËŕźË⧠ trick-or-treat Âť
GN!Reader | Wordcount : 134 words | TWs : None
âAs much as I know Sauron would just fucking kill me instantly, wouldnât it be satisfying to just⌠deck him?â
Most of the Fellowship is used to your antics by now, but your words still manage to elicit a small chuckle from Boromir. Glancing up to you, he tilts his head in a questioning way, âI would have thought you would have more glorious ambitions?â
âIs the Captain of Gondor encouraging me to deck the Lord of Darkness?â You grin, moving slightly closer to him.
He looks you up and down again, before a smile comes on his face as well. âIâm conveying that I understand your motivations.â
Moving closer still, youâre almost inches apart. âBut would you help me?â
âFor you?â Bridging the gap, he gives you a quick forehead kiss. âOf course.â
A/N : Shout out to autocorrect for correcting violence to violin in a previous draft. Hope one of these two treats has satisfied your wishes, anon <3
ÂŤ masterlist Âť thank you for reading *シŕźË⧠Taglist : @ferns-fics @fleurdemiel-145 @stormchaser819 @starwars2222 @bespectacledhuman (cont. in comments)
#lotr x reader#lotr x you#boromir x reader#boromir x you#treat#boromir treat#lotr treat#modern girl in middle earth
63 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Misty Memories Cold
When you wake in FĂliâs bed with no recollection of anything after an accident in Mirkwood, heâs ready to risk anything, even his uncleâs wrath, to bring back what you had together.
Next >
Chapter One
Cold.
Youâre cold. Itâs dark. Youâre falling. Someone reaches for you. Too late.
The water folds in around you. It floods your nose. It floods your ears. Your limbs donât work. You canât swim.
Muffled shouts. You open your mouth to cry back. It fills with water.
Choking.
Drowning.
Drowning.
Drowning drowning drowning drâ
You wake with a jolt, sitting up in bed.
Bed?
You pat the sheets around you. Yes, youâre definitely in a bed, not curled up on the leaf litter in Mirkwood.
âI guess it really was a dream,â you whisper, shoulders slumping. But as you run your fingers across the hem of the blanket, you frown. It doesnât feel like the old quilt on your bed. Itâs thicker, softer.
Something is wrong.
You look around the room as your eyes begin to adjust. Thereâs a fireplace across the room, the dying embers casting just enough light to let you make out the vague shapes of furniture in the darkness. The walls and floor are stone, adorned with plush rugs. The wind rattles the shutters outside the window, hidden behind thick curtains.
This is not your bedroom⌠and you are not alone. A dark figure stirs next to you beneath the covers. You scramble out of bed but find the floor farther away than expected. You land hard on your side. âOw!â
You slap your hand over your mouth, but itâs too late. The figure sits up with a groan, rubbing at its face and leaning to peer over the edge of the bed at you. Thereâs no mistaking that mustache, those braids.
âFĂli? What⌠where are we?â And why are we in bed together?
FĂli blinks a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes. âWhat do you mean?â he asks hoarsely, his voice rough. He rolls out of bed and kneels in front of you. âWeâre home. In Erebor? You know, the mountain? Big pile of rocks and snow? Itâs rather hard to miss.â He raises an eyebrow, trying to coax a smile from you.
Instead, you scoot backwards, putting space between you and the prince as you process his words. âBut we were just in Mirkwood,â you protest. âHow did we get here?â
FĂliâs confusion turns to concern. âY/N, that was a year ago.â He shifts closer and brushes a thumb over your cheek. âAre you feeling alright?â
You stiffen against his touch, heart in your throat. Ever the gentleman, heâs never touched you without permission before. But something about the way his palm cups your face feels familiar. âI donât know,â you whisper, shaking your head. âAll I remember is falling into the stream.â
âYou donât remember the elves? Fighting for the mountain? All the time we spent together?â He uncovers a long braid in your hair. âOur wedding?â
âWedding?!â Itâs true, youâve harbored feelings for FĂli since the two of you met in Bag End. Youâd admired him in the book and movies, and to see him for real⌠it did something to you. But you never thought he would return your affectionsâhow could he? Youâre a plain, young woman from another world, and heâs a handsome prince, heir to the throne.
FĂli searches your face, expression unreadable. Finally, he stands, offering you his hand. âCome on.â
You take it hesitantly. His fingers lace through yours, and he helps you to your feet. Strangely, you find that instead of being taller than the dwarf, youâre just level with his chin. But before you can comment on this, FĂli pulls you out the door and down a narrow hallway.
He leads you to a large sitting room, taking you to the sofa next to yet another fireplace. âWait here,â he orders softly. âIâll fetch Thorin.â
âThorinâs alive?â you breathe. âWhat about KĂli?â
âKĂli would like to know what the pair of you are doing up and chattering in the middle of the night,â replies a voice from behind you. The youngest Durin leans against the wall with his arms crossed, hair still tousled from sleep.
You tip back your head and close your eyes. âThey did it,â you sigh in relief. âOh, thank God, they did it.â
KĂli raises an eyebrow. âWhatâs going on?â
FĂli pinches the bridge of his nose. âLet me get Thorin first. I would rather not explain this twice.â
Â
âAgain.â Thorin paces in front of the fire.
You rub your forehead. âI told you, thatâs it,â you groan. âI fell in the water and woke up here.â
KĂli shakes his head. âIt makes no sense.â
âNo shit, Sherlock.â
Thorin flashes you a warning look.
âIt was no ordinary stream,â FĂli points out. He sits with you on the couch, his hand resting on top of yours. Every once in a while, he gives it a reassuring squeeze. âIt had some sort of foul magic. She wouldnât wake for days.â
âIf itâs magic that weâre dealing with,â you glance at Thorin warily before continuing, âit might be a good idea to talk with the elves.â
âAbsolutely not,â Thorin snaps. His lip curls in disgust. âI refuse to invite them to interfere in our private matters.â
KĂliâs eyes brighten. âWhat about Gandalf, then? Where would we find him?â
They all look to you. You close your eyes, teasing and tugging at the cobwebs that cloud the part of your mind where your Middle Earth knowledge is stored. âHeâs⌠thereâs no guarantee we even could find him. Gandalf doesnât have a home, exactly. He wanders. They donât call him the Grey Pilgrim for nothing.â
âSo we donât know where Gandalf is,â FĂli starts slowly, âbut we do know where the elves are.â
âAnd Gandalf wasnât in Mirkwood with us,â you add. âThereâs no guarantee he even knows about the enchanted streamâbut Thranduil definitely would.â
Thorin crosses his arms. âOut of the question.â
âDid you not make peace with Mirkwood?â
âPeace does not mean friendship,â Thorin retorts. His voice, raised in frustration, echoes off of the polished stone walls. Down another hallway, you hear a door slam. Thorin groans at the sound of approaching footsteps.
âAnd just what in Mahalâs name is everyone shouting about at this hour of night?â
A new dwarf steps into the firelight. In the dim light, she almost looks like a copy of Thorin. But as she approaches, you can see her features are softer, her eyes rounder, her beard thinner. And thereâs no mistaking the Durin glare that she levels at Thorin, her blue eyes just as piercing as they are tired.
You glance at FĂli with uncertainty. He squeezes your hand and leans close to murmur in your ear. âItâs just Amad. Mother,â he translates when you donât seem to understand.
DĂs. You nod quickly.
Thorin looks at you, then back to his sister, standing with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised expectantly. As they exchange words in their rough native tongue, DĂsâs expression of irritation turns to one of soft, motherly concern. She comes closer to you and gently brushes away a few strands of unruly hair from your face. âYou must be tired, natha.â
âDaughter,â FĂli whispers.
âA bit,â you reply quietly, finding yourself suddenly shy with the full attention of a mother focused on you.
âPoor dove,â DĂs tuts. She straightens up and pats you on the shoulder. âFĂli, take your lass back to bed. We will speak in the morning.â Thorin looks like he means to protest, but DĂs silences him with an icy glare. Planting a kiss on the top of your head, she pushes KĂli and Thorin back down their opposite hallways. FĂli pats your hand and follows her quickly, his words in KhuzdĂťl fading as he gets further away.
Finally alone, you let out a long sigh. For the first time, you get the chance to look yourself over, to see what has changed. Your hair is longer, brushing the small of your back. When you run your fingers through it, you find braids styled to match FĂliâs. A dwarven marriage custom, perhaps? Thereâs a thin, gold band on your finger, too, lined with tiny sapphires that sparkle in the firelight. A little smile tugs at the corner of your mouth; at least you kept some piece of your own marriage customs.
And while FĂli has been bare-chested this whole time, youâre wearing a dark green shirt, no doubt one that used to be his. Itâs long enough on you to serve as a nightgown. A blush rises on your face when you realize the deep v-neck exposes the dip between your breastsâand has been exposing it to everyone else this whole time.
âAmrâlimĂŞ?â FĂliâs voice from the hallway is soft. He pokes his head into the sitting room. âArenât you going to come to bed?â
You gnaw on your bottom lip, suddenly very interested in the fireplace. In anything that isnât FĂliâs too-kind face. âDo you want me to?â you ask hesitantly.
Itâs silent for a few seconds. FĂli sighs heavily and comes to kneel before you, taking your hands in his. âY/N, you are my wife. Of course I want you to come to bed. It is our bed.â His eyes search yours, desperately looking for the light he knows should be there. âDo I not have your love?â
âI mean, sure,â you reply softly. Your voice is strained. âI just⌠I donât understand how I have yours. Youâre the crown prince, youâre perfect. And Iâm just⌠me.â
âYou are so much more than that,â FĂli murmurs. âYou are everything to me.â He kisses your forehead and stands. Before you can say anything, youâre swept up in his arms. Startled, you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to avoid falling, but he carries your smaller frame with ease.
You frown, remembering your observation from earlier. âShouldnât I be taller than you?â
âAh. Well.â Filiâs chuckle makes his chest vibrate against your cheek. âThatâs all that we thought the stream did. Make you properly sized.â
âProperly sized?â you repeat in disbelief. âYou call this properly sized?â
âYou complained about it endlessly,â FĂli continues. A playful smile tugs at his lips. âUntil you realized how well you fit in my arms.â
You roll your eyes. âYouâre very funny.â
âIâm also handsome, charming, braveâŚâ
âShut up.â You smack his shoulder lightly, but hide a smile as you tuck your head beneath his chin. Maybe you can get used to this.
But as he kicks open the door to hisâyourâroom, and you see the bed with its rumpled covers, you tense.
âY/N?â FĂliâs breath tickles your neck.
âItâs⌠just a lot, all at once,â you mumble.
He squeezes you, then lowers you gently to the bed. âI understand,â he murmurs.
âYou really donât, though.â Pent-up frustration simmers within you. âWhenâs the last time you fell into a stream, woke up, and found out a year had passed and youâre married?â
âAre you upset that weâre married?â FĂli asks, his face falling.
You feel a pang of guilt for snapping at him. This canât be any easier for him. Running your hand through your tangled hair, you shake your head. âIt feels like one moment, I was a girl with a crush, and then I wake up, and suddenly Iâm a married woman. Iâve missed out on everything.â
âItâs in there, somewhere,â he whispers, stroking your cheek. You flinch away, your body unsure of how to react to his touch. Hurt flickers across his face, but he pulls back. âCan I fix your braids?â he asks. Thereâs desperation in his eyes.
Recognizing his need to touch you in whatever way he can, you nod slowly, and turn. The gentle, rhythmic tugging as he combs and re-braids your hair is hypnotic, and you find your eyelids drooping.
âThere,â FĂli says, turning you back to him. He smiles sadly. âBeautiful as ever.â
Your heart aches. Whether it aches for him, the dwarf searching for his loving wife in the uncertain girl before him, or yourself, longing to be that loving wife, you do not know.
After a moment of hesitation, you lean in and reward him with a quick kiss on the cheek. His beard is prickly against your lips. âIâm tired,â you whisper when you draw back.
The kiss brings a real smile to his face, however small it may be. FĂli pulls back the covers and you wriggle underneath them. You settle into a dip worn down into the mattress from hundreds of nights before. FĂli slides into place behind you, his chest against your back. You stiffen slightly, but force yourself to relax.
âIs this alright?â His deep, quiet voice vibrates through your body.
You nod. He can have a little cuddle, as a treat. As an apology.
He takes that as a signal to test the limits further. You can tell heâs holding his breath as he drapes his arm over your waist. âIs this alright?â
âItâs cozy,â you mumble sleepily, letting the warmth of his body overwhelm you.
FĂli lets out his breath, pulling you tightly against him and nuzzling his face into your hair.
As you drift off, you do your best to pretend you donât notice his quiet tears.
You began to stir, finding your face pressed into something warm and firm. As you tried to pull away to look around, you were met with resistance. You made a disgruntled noise.
âY/N?!â Suddenly, a hand yanked your head backwards. Wide eyes searched your face frantically. You just barely registered who held you before he pulled you back in a crushing embrace. âI thought weâd lost you.â
âFĂli?â you mumbled, your voice muffled by his coat. âCanât breathe.â
He released you, finally letting you get your bearings. The two of you were alone in a small, stone cell. Torchlight flickered just outside the wrought iron bars, casting a dim, orange light into your cell.
A shadow crossed over the door. âOh, so she is alive. Here, then.â An apple landed on the ground in front of you, followed by a waterskin. âThatâs the most you get until tomorrow. Make it last.â The shadow retreated, footsteps echoing down a long hallway.
Pieces began to slot into place in your mind. You nodded slowly. Mirkwood, elves, imprisonment. âHow long have we been in here?â
âA few days at most, given how often theyâve brought food and water. But itâs hard to tell.â FĂli seemed distracted, eyes scanning your body. âHow do you feel?â
You frowned and patted yourself up and down. âA bit sore, but I think Iâm fine.â You untangled yourself from FĂli and tried to stand on shaky legs, your knees instantly failing beneath you.
Immediately, he jumped up and grabbed your waist from behind to steady you. âY/N?â His voice was soft. âY/N, please do not be alarmed when you turn around.â
âWhat?â You twisted in his grasp and looked up into his concerned face.
Up. You had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. He was big. You tried to back away but the space was so narrow, you collided with the wall after just a single step. âYouâre taller,â you stated, almost robotically. âBut youâre a dwarf. You canât be taller than me. Iâm supposed to be the taller one. How did you get taller?â
âI did not get taller,â he corrected you. âYou got smaller.â
You just stared at him blankly. FĂli sighed, gently taking hold of your arm and easing you back to the ground. He took the apple from the floor and placed it in your hand. âEat,â he ordered quietly. âYou havenât had any food in days. It was hard enough to get water into you.â
Instead, you rolled it between your palms absentmindedly. âHow long was I out?â
âJust over a week. We were trying to cross a stream, and you fell in.â
âInstead of Bombur,â you interjected.
FĂli raised an eyebrow. âIf you say so. GlĂłin managed to snag you,â he continues, âand when he pulled you out, you were⌠well, smaller. But you wouldnât wake up. You even slept through the spiders. I was so afraid that you were gone before I could tell youââ he broke off, his voice thick. He tore his eyes away from yours, a blush rising on his face.
âWhat?â You reached out and took hold of his chin, turning his face back to you. Yet his eyes still avoided you. You crawled closer, kneeling between his outstretched legs. Your traitorous heart pounded hopefully against your ribs. âTell me what, Fee?â
He shook his head. âNo, no, itâs foolish. I shouldnât⌠you wouldnâtâŚâ Finally, he looked back up at you. âI love you?â He phrased it as a question, his blue eyes filled with hesitation. It was strangely endearing, seeing the normally confident prince so bashful. FĂli lifted a cautious hand to your cheek, fingers just barely brushing your skin.
Surprise temporarily robbed you of your voice. Mistaking your silence for rejection, FĂli quickly pulled his hand away. Shame and hurt flashed across his face. âForgive me,â he blurted out, ducking his head. âI should not burden you with feelings you can never return.â He pulled his legs back in and moved further into the shadowy recesses of the cell.
But you crawled after him, refusing to let him go that easily. âFĂli, why didnât you say anything?â When he remained silent, you wound your fingers up in one of his braids and tugged, forcing him to turn his head towards you. âWhy are you so sure that I canât feel the same?â
A cautious spark of hope flared to life in his eyes. âBecause youâre perfect, youâre beautiful,â he murmured. âYou deserve so much more than I can give.â
You smiled, eyes tracing his face. The gold locks that framed it, the sky blue eyes, the flushed cheeks. And those soft, pink lips, parted ever so slightly as he awaited your next words.
But words were the furthest thing from your mind. Refusing to hold back any longer, you grabbed FĂli by the collar, lunging forward to claim his mouth.
His eyes widened, then fluttered shut as his hands grabbed at your waist. FĂli pulled you back into his lap and wrapped his arms around you, reaching up to comb through your tangled hair with his fingers.
A rock clanged against the bars of your cell. âGet a room!â came KĂliâs voice, echoing down the hall.
You broke away with a laugh. âThis is a room!â
KĂliâs only response was a disgusted groan as FĂli grabbed at your face for more.
#fanfiction#fĂli#kĂli#the hobbit#thorin oakenshield#dĂs#fili x you#fili x reader#modern girl in middle earth#amnesia#falling back in love#everybody lives#soft FĂli#angst and hurt/comfort#it gets angstier before it gets fluffier
211 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Me in Middle Earth avoiding every question about family because if they knew I didnât see my parents theyâd all cry
(Itâs good I donât see them and dysfunctional families are hella normal here but there theyâd all cry, especially Frodo and Elrond)
#lotr#lord of the rings#the hobbit#modern reader#middle earth#modern girl in middle earth#Elrond#Frodo
70 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Snow In The Burning Sands
During his time in the East, Sauron comes across you and Maglor. Out of twisted enjoyment, he decides to play with you and your beloved spouse, unaware that the stories and rumors that surrounded you were more than what they seemed.
Warnings: Sauron being a warning himself, mentions of curses, violence, inflicting lethal wounds, and Sauron making one of the biggest mistakes in his life.
--------------------------------------------------
When Sauron first came to the east to corrupt and coerce the people of Rhun to his side â he did not expect much. The Easterlings had been allied with him since the first age and their hearts were just as greedy and corrupt as their ancestors. Of course, some refused him and there were the Blue Wizards, but he had gained enough influence that their presence played no hindrance to his plans.Â
But then he came across you and Maglor.Â
He recognized the second son of Feanor easily, having heard the tales of his musical skills and having the pleasantry of going through Maedhrosâs mind when he was still a thrall in Angband.
He had heard what became of him and his brother when they stole the silmarils from the host of Valar, so he did not expect to find the infamous son of Feanor so far in the east.Â
He did not recognize you, but after some observation and having spies follow you, he learned that you were Maglor Feanorionâs beloved human spouse.Â
The mere idea of it was enough to make him laugh. To think someone like a son of a Feanor would take a mortal spouse.
Sauron learned that you two were in the east to look for a rare flower of sorts, to make a cure for a curse that ailed you. And after seeing the love and adoration in the eyes of the Feanorian directed toward you. Sauron had a gleeful idea to play with you both.Â
He had been getting bored lately.Â
Elves already had a poor reputation among the Easterlings, and after spreading rumors about Maglorâs presence, Sauron got you two involved in the struggle between the Easterling overlords and the rebels.Â
You were surprisingly clever and resourceful, protecting Maglor and guiding him out of danger whenever it came your way. Maglor listened and defended you from those who targeted you with his own combat skills and power over songs. You two made a surprisingly effective pair.Â
Sauron then came to recognize your name as it said was once uttered during the first age when a cursed human stood against his master's armies and came to be known as the creature Helceth, the infamous Queen of Monsters.Â
Langon, the failure of a servant, once uttered the same name after he returned â his arm frostbitten and having lost his entire host to a mysterious creature who apparently devoured every single orc under his command. However, due to his failure and the lack of other sightings of this creature, he was temporarily put to other use until the end of the first age when the same creature appeared with the name Helceth.Â
Langon was given one more chance, but he never returned, apparently having been slain by the cursed human.
Sauron did not believe Langonâs claims till the appearance of Helceth and the rumors that spread around the creature. The stories of how it would lurk in the dark winter woods, lure its prey with mimicry, and it was rumored it would eat its prey while they were still alive.Â
When he took the time to observe you, he could sense another presence within you, a presence that was cold and dark. It was in slumber, but visible to a Maia like him.Â
This made him more intrigued by you. There was clearly something hiding within your mortal body, and those events happened several centuries ago, yet you are still alive, not even near the limit of your mortal life. He then later learned that you have somehow found a way to become immortal, thus being able to stay with your elven spouse.Â
This made him more interested in you. Perhaps the nonsense Langon spouted about you was not nonsense after all.Â
With this newfound interest in mind, Sauron decided to change the rules of his game â to see if you truly were the infamous Queen of Monsters.Â
He watched as you and Maglor were forced to survive against the corrupted Easterlings when they attacked you. You managed to fend them off and escape their grasp with uncomfortable close calls. You then sought out the rebels and the Blue Wizards, seeking their aid in helping you leave the East and return safely to the West. The east had become more dangerous for you, and with Sauron behind the scenes, it would be safer for you to return home and get out of his reach.Â
 That was when Sauron decided to join the game himself.Â
He waited for a perfect moment to strike. He wanted you to think you were succeeding in getting away from him, and when you were just about to reach the border to the west â he made his appearance.Â
Maglor recognized him immediately while you only knew him through the stories and being responsible for your unpleasant close calls with the Easterlings.Â
Sauron easily dispatched you. He then grabbed your husband who was helpless against his strength. Since he was entertained he offered you a chance to take your husband back if you dared to enter his domain. Sauron then vanished, taking your husband with him.Â
Your terrified scream for your husband when you tried to stop them filled him with twisted delight.Â
Inside his domain, Sauron did what he pleased with your beloved elven prince while waiting for what you would do. Maglor resisted as much as he could, enduring the physical torture and mental anguish Sauron put him through.Â
As time passed, Sauron mocked Maglor, questioning if his human wife's love for him was as strong as he thought. He also tried to make the son of Feanor spill more information about your supposed curse.Â
Maglor only looked at him with calm defiance in his eyes, almost as if mocking him.Â
âYou should not underestimate my wife's determination to see me return to her safely and you should not trifle with something you do not understand,â he said.Â
âThere is a reason she keeps her curse under control,â Maglor said, spitting blood from his mouth.Â
The elfâs defiance annoyed Sauron but left him more curious. Just what was about your curse that he did not understand?Â
Surprisingly, you found him quickly and sought aid from the Blue Wizards and the rebels.
With the rebels creating a diversion to distract his servants and the Blue Wizards shielding you under a protective veil, you managed to slip past the enemy undetected. Navigating the dark corridors, you finally reached the dungeons where your husband was imprisoned and freed him.
Together, you then attempted to escape.
It was a daring rescue. Unfortunately, Sauron was more powerful than the Blue Wizards and no one won his games.Â
He emerged from the shadows like a beast, striking swiftly. His claws slashed across your side, tearing you away from the elf.
You tumbled down the steps of his dark palace, landing hard at the bottom. Pain seared through you as blood pooled beneath your trembling hands.
Maglor tried to reach you, but his body was weakened from torture. And now, with Sauron shedding his disguise and returning to his true form, he was powerless. The fallen Maia seized him effortlessly, holding him backâkeeping him from your side.
 Sauron mocked your rescue attempt.Â
For losing the game, Sauron had decidedâyour husband would remain his pet for the rest of his immortal life. Perhaps as a replacement for his elder brother.
Desperately, you tried to rise, but your legs gave out beneath you. The wound was too deep, your strength fading fast. You collapsed back onto the cold stone, helpless.
With eerie ease, Sauron dragged Maglor back into the shadows of his domain. The elf thrashed against his grip, struggling with every ounce of strength he had left, but it was futile. His desperate gaze locked onto you as he fought to break freeâreaching for you, calling your name.
Sauron yanked the elf closer, relishing the thought of breaking his new plaything. But just as he was about to speak, a chill crept into the air.
It was subtle at first, a whisper of cold that did not belong. Then, something unusual drifted down from the open ceiling above.
A single snowflake.
In the burning sands of the East.
And then, he felt it.
The first bite.
You appeared behind him, grabbed his shoulders, and sank your teeth into his ear.
It was unexpectedâespecially when you tore his ear clean off, forcing a scream from him as he used the shadows to escape your grasp.
You stood in front of him, your husband behind you. From the wound he had torn open, brilliant blue flowers sprouted, seemingly growing from your body. Your eyes glowed an unnatural shade of blue, and after spitting out his severed ear, you exhaled a heavy, misty breath, thick with cold.
Clutching the bleeding wound where his ear had once been, Sauron stared at you in stunned shock. He could sense it nowâthe presence within you, wild and awake, coiling around your form like a feral beast lurking beneath the surface.
âDo notâŚâ you began, your breath heavy and ragged.
âTouch what is⌠MINE!â you roared, your eyes frosting over as rows of sharp fangs emerged from your mouth.
In fear, Sauron shifted back into his beastly form.
You let out an animalistic roar and lunged at him with unnatural speed and strength.
Sauron fought back, but your power, speed, and sheer ferocity were unlike anything he had ever faced before.
Your ice-cold claws tore through his protective hide with ease, and despite his massive size, you hurled him around as if he weighed nothing.
He tried to change shape into forms that could give him an advantage, but you met him with unrelenting fury, tearing into him with a bloodthirst unlike anything he had ever encountered.
Sauronâs roars of pain echoed through the halls as your ice-cold fangs sank deeper into his flesh, filling him with an unbearable, freezing agony. His once-fluid transformations became sluggish, his power faltering under the unnatural cold seeping into his very essence.
No matter what shape he took, you answered with sheer brutality, your claws and teeth carving into him with a relentless hunger for his suffering.
No matter what he did, he was powerless against you. He could not even summon fire to aid him. The warmth that once radiated from his form began to wane, replaced by an overwhelming chill that stifled his power. He could feel it creeping through his veins, a biting cold that rendered him weak, desperate, and afraid.
Not even his fight with the Hound of Valinor had been this violent.
You were an absolute monster.
With rage and beastly power, you forced him to endure as you bit and ripped the flesh pieces from his body.
Again.Â
Again.Â
And again.Â
Each bite brought him more pain than the last. Even his Easterling servants were terrified, and witnessing him being overpowered only amplified their fear, sending them fleeing.
Before he knew it, Sauron was forced back into his original form, clutching the wounds you had inflicted. His body ached with each bite, the pain searing through him like fire.
Twelve bites. You had given him twelve bites that burned his very veins. He had lost an ear, bled profusely, and now, he was even missing fingers.
He gazed at you, his eyes wide with fear, as you growled low in your throat, your gaze a seething storm of fury, and his blood dressing your sharpened teeth.
Desperate, Sauron drew his dagger, the blade flickering with the last of his fire, and struck at your abdomen where the blue flowers bloomed. You shrieked in agony as the delicate petals burned and seared, the pain forcing you to stumble and groan. For a brief moment, Sauron thought he had gained the upper hand.
But then, with eyes filled with unrelenting fury, you slouched toward the ground. From your head, a horn began to sprout, blood spilling onto the floor as it tore through your flesh. With a snarl, you gripped the horn, ripping it free from your skull.
You then moved with terrifying speed. In an instant, you pinned Sauron to the floor and drove the sharp end of the horn through his cheek. His scream was raw, a sound of pure pain as the horn tore through his flesh, its jagged tip pressing against the roof of his mouth.
At that moment, as Sauron locked eyes with you, he saw something more terrifying than he had ever imagined. Your gaze burned with a cold, white furyâlike the flames of the purest wrath, consuming everything in their path.
At that moment, he finally understood the stories. The rumors, the legends... and why you were called the Queen of Monsters.
âMercyâŚâ he croaked weakly, his voice trembling with fear.
You leaned closer, your form looming over him like a nightmare given flesh. âYou⌠touched⌠my mate,â you growled, your voice no longer just yours. It resonated with another that shared your anger.Â
Sauron, battered and broken, summoned last of his strength to transform into a shadow and flee. His form flickered and twisted as he vanished into the darkness, leaving behind a trail of blood and pain.
Though he escaped, the wounds remained. Somewhere, deep within the realm of death, he could almost hear Langonâs mocking laughter echoing in his ears.
Even centuries later, the scars of that encounter would never fade. The bites, the wounds, the very essence of your fury lingered within him. He could feel them, deep within his soul, a foul reminder that some stories were far more than legends.
#silmarillion x reader#silmarillion#middle earth x reader#silm fic#maglor#maglor x reader#maglor x modern human#x cursed human#snowflake in the burning sands#silmarillion oneshot#frozen heart#sauron
26 notes
¡
View notes
Text
By the way, I'm posting a Modern Girl in the War of the Rohirrim fic on ao3 focusing on HĂĄma if anyone's interested. đđ
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61814539
#hĂĄma#hama rohirrim#hama hammerhand#helm hammerhand#war of rohirrim#modern girl in middle earth#x reader#fanfiction#lotr fanfic#hera war of the rohirrim#war of the rohirrim#hama war of the rohirrim#hama x reader#lord of the rings#wotr#war of the rohirrim fanfic
23 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Haunted House With The Lords of Gondolin
Synopsis: In which you, modern reader, set up a haunted house for them to experience during your time in Gondolin.
When you first told Turgon and the Lords of Gondolin about the haunted house you were setting up for the autumn festival, they had raised eyebrows and shared sceptical glances. You assured them it was all in good fun and something humans did for entertainment back in your world, but still, they remained unconvinced.
But the festival spirit was strong, and eventually, Turgon himself declared they would try it. You had the help of other elves from the city to dress as ghosts and creatures, altering the interior with traps, hidden rooms, eerie wind effects, and, of course, the classic something brushing past your leg trick. It took a lot of convincing and detailed instructions, but the elves, curious about human customs, went all in.
By the time the haunted house was complete, it had transformed from a mere concept into a genuinely spooky experience.
âA houseâŚhaunted?â Glorfindel had asked, his voice laced with doubt. âWeâve seen the spirits of the cursed, battled creatures from Morgothâs nightmares, and you want us to walk through a house filled withâwhat, exactly?â
âI promise, itâs harmlessâŚmostly,â you said, trying to hide your grin. You could see Maeglin raising an eyebrow, his arms crossed as if to question your definition of âharmless.â
Glorfindel smiled politely, ever the golden knight, radiating calm confidence. âIâll go in first then,â he offered. Naturally, he went to open the door andâWHAMâthe fake skeleton you set up dropped right on him.
He jumped back, almost crashing into Rog, who couldnât help but let out a booming laugh. âWhat is this trickery?â Rog was clearly amused, and Glorfindel stood there blinking in disbelief as the others snickered. âOh fucâA skeleton! Really?â Glorfindel said, shaking his head as he composed himself.
Ecthelion walked beside him as he chuckled under his breath. âItâs just a skeleton. Weâre not in the middle of the Nirnaeth here.â
Inside, the halls were dimly lit by flickering lanterns, the walls draped in shadowy cloth that gave the impression of shifting figures. Elves, hidden, moaned softly, their voices echoing down the corridors. Even Turgon, normally so composed, narrowed his eyes in suspicion as the sounds seemed to grow louder, more oppressive.
âI think the house is alive,â Maeglin said flatly, his voice betraying a hint of unease. Rog snorted, rolling his eyes, but even he was scanning the corners warily.
They had barely taken ten steps into the first room when the first scare hitâan elf dressed as a wraith leapt out from a darkened doorway, his hand reaching for Ecthelionâs shoulder. He spun on instinct, fists balled up to strike before you shouted, âHey! Donât beat my elves up!â
âLucky. I almost punched him,â Ecthelion muttered, placing his arms down but eyeing the wraith warily. âGood reflexes,â Glorfindel smirked, but you could see the tension in his jaw, as though he was ready to fight the next ghost himself.
Egalmoth was one who was already causing half the chaos, poking at things, trying to figure out how you rigged the traps. He pulled at a loose cobweb you had set up, only for it to trigger a bucket of fake blood to splash down on him. âAgh! What is this?â he yelped, staring at his now blood-streaked robes. The others burst out laughing as he grumbled, wiping his face. âYouâŚhumans.â
As they moved deeper into the house, the monsters became bolder. At one point, a trap door opened beneath Turgonâs feet, and he dropped halfway into the floor before being rescued by a group of skeletons. The sound of him cursing loudly as he tried to climb out of the trap had you doubling over with laughter outside. âWeâre going to have a serious talk later.â
Galdor had been quiet for most of the tour until a particularly convincing spectre dropped from the ceiling, screeching and clawing towards him. He let out a yelp, stumbling back into Egalmoth, who laughed far too loudly. âPerhaps the haunted houses of Men arenât so dull after all,â Egalmoth mused, though his fists were curled up, just in case.
Turgon, leading the group, maintained his stoic façade, but even he flinched, again, when a banshee-like figure screeched and lunged at him from a hidden space. His hand instinctively shot out his fists, but after a moment, he simply shook his head with a resigned sigh. âThis is ridiculous. Iâm going to end up fighting my people,â he muttered, though there was a spark of amusement in his eyes
Meanwhile, Egalmoth, again, had almost punched one of the actors in the face after they tried to drag him through a fake wall. âI nearly broke their jaw. I thought I was getting kidnapped,â he whined, clearly unimpressed. And Maeglin who had been next to him was struggling not to laugh. âI told you the house was alive.â
One of the fake monsters grabbed Ecthelionâs boot, and instinctively, he kicked it, nearly knocking the poor elf in disguise out cold. All you could do was groan at the poor elf doing his job and Thelâs quick methods of self-defense.
Rog, on the other hand, wasnât having any of it. When a series of hanging cobwebs and unseen hands began to brush against his arms and legs, he let out a deep, annoyed growl. âI am not being taken by a fake ghost,â he declared, shoving past the invisible ropes of the trap as if it were a mere inconvenience. The elves hidden in the walls whispered hurried apologies.
Glorfindel was initially the most sceptical of the bunch, but actually found himself impressed by the mechanics of the house. After he dodged a spectral blade that swung down from the ceiling, he let out an appreciative whistle. âNow this, this is clever.â But when a creature crawled out of a hidden corner, grabbing at his legs, his calm composure shattered. With a loud, startled shout, he kicked and stomped it away. âNot today! Iâll fight you for real!â
Cool and composed as ever, Maeglin seemed the least affectedâat first. But when one of the creatures dressed as a dark wraith chased him through a winding passage at full speech laughing, nearly separating him from the others, you caught him muttering curses under his breath. His usual calm exterior cracked just enough for you to enjoy the moment of him being rattled.
By the time they reached the final roomâa grand hall filled with eerie, glowing mist and a replica of Jack Skellington on a throneâthe group was ready to be done. The actor stood with glowing pumpkin head in hand, and pointed dramatically at the group. âYou shall not leave!â
Rog wasted no time and raised a fist. âTry me.â
Clearly reconsidering, the actor quickly backed down while you, from the control room, had to suppress your laughter. The group stormed out of the house, various expressions of annoyance, relief, and amusement etched on their faces.
âWell,â Ecthelion said after a long pause, running a hand through his hair, âthat wasâŚsomething.â
Galdor shook his head, still a bit shaken from being nearly dragged off into one of the hidden rooms. âYou humans and your sense of fun.â
Turgon was uncharacteristically silent, though you could tell from the way his lips twitched that he had enjoyed it more than he was letting on. Glorfindel, meanwhile, clapped you on the back with a grin. âYouâve got a talent for this. Scared the wits out of us.â
âNext time,â Maeglin added, straightening his tunic and trying to act like he hadnât been running from imaginary wraiths moments ago, âlet me design the traps. Weâll make it really terrifying.â
Glorfindel just shook his head. âIâm getting too old for this.â
âYouâre immortal,â you shot back with a grin, to which he only waved dismissively.
You could tell that, despite the initial scepticism, they had actually enjoyed themselvesâthough you knew none of them would openly admit it.
As the group dispersed to enjoy the rest of the festival, you caught Turgon glancing back at the haunted house one last time. His expression was thoughtful, as though he was already planning the next time theyâd attempt your human madness. âWe should do this next year, but Iâd like to help next time.â
Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @aconstructofamind @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life @eunoiaastralwings @hermaeuswhora @mcwentfandomtraveling @zheiya
If you wish to be tagged, click the Taglist Link to join.
#ă ⌠minaâs flufftober ⌠ă#lords of gondolin#ecthelion x reader#ecthelion imagine#galdor x reader#galdor imagine#glorfindel x reader#glorfindel imagine#egalmoth x reader#egalmoth image#rog x reader#rog imagine#maeglin x reader#maeglin imagine#turgon x reader#turgon imagine#modern reader in middle earth#silmarillion imagine#silmarillion x reader#silmarillion headcanons#middle earth x reader#middle earth imagine#middle earth headcanon#x reader insert#x reader fluff#silmarillion#doodlepops writings â¨
99 notes
¡
View notes
Text
MĂŽr Vin Universe Origin Ch 3
A/n - Sorry for the delay. I just delved to deep into what will Elves think of the technology and items unfamiliar to them. I made way to much dialogues for it and the chapter became too long. So, I removed it all together. If you want to read it I'll but it in a bonus chapter.
Any back to the story
As the elves delved into the mysterious womanâs belongings, their initial intent to find potential harm transformed into an intriguing exploration of unfamiliar artifacts. Among the items, they discovered clothing of a similar fashion to what she wore, confirming the uniqueness of her attire. Strips of expensive fabric hinted at a meticulous attention to detail in her possessions. The food items, unlike anything seen in Elven or Middle-earth cultures, sparked curiosity. Exotic aromas wafted from packages that bore no resemblance to the lembas or other fare known to the elves. Moreover, the elves encountered objects previously unseen in Middle-earth. Mysterious in both form and material, these items were beyond their realm of knowledge. They exchanged glances, realizing that the answers to the womanâs origins might be hidden within these enigmatic possessions.
 The mystery deepened, drawing them further into the enigma that had unexpectedly arrived at their haven but their curiosity was put in hold because of the maid servant announced that the creature woke up, behaved Frantically and fell into fitifull sleep again. They all exited to see the creature
As the woman stirred, her eyes gradually opening to the unfamiliar surroundings, the elves observed her with a sense of reverence. The air was charged with anticipation, for in her waking moments lay the promise of unlocking the enigma that had woven itself into the fabric of their haven.
Glorfindel looked at the creature, she looked restless right now. Her pretty features were marked with distress. The woman began to stir again. Glorfindel could feel Gildorâs posture suddenly going rigid. The woman woke up again, looked at them with a bewildered face and blurted out something in foreign tongue which Glorfindel could only make out as
âWhat the Fuckâ
Â
 In the hazy moments between sleep and wakefulness, she felt the disorienting shift from the rhythmic motion of the train to an unfamiliar stillness. Her eyes fluttered open, searching for the familiar contours of her train compartment, but instead, she found herself in a spacious room filled with vibrant colors. A jolt of panic surged through her as she realized she wasnât alone. The bed beneath her was soft, unlike the cold, impersonal surfaces she associated with kidnapper scenarios in movies. The room exuded warmth, a stark contrast to the chill of fear that gripped her. With trembling hands, she reached for the glasses she habitually kept within armâs reach. The world around her remained a blur, causing her heart to pound against her chest. The absence of visual clarity heightened her sense of vulnerability. Where was she? How did she end up in this unfamiliar place?
As she fumbled for her glasses, her fingertips grazed a loose tunic of soft cotton that draped over her. It wasnât the attire she remembered wearing when she fell asleep on the train. Her hair, usually secured in a bun, cascaded freely down her shoulders. She could make out were she was but everything felt like blurry shaking mess. The spaciousness of the room and the absence of ominous shadows began to alleviate the intensity of her disorientation. She fell down on the bed again.
The next time, she was awake of her surrounding. She dared not open her eyes fearing that realistic nightmare was a reality. She started to feel her surroundings, the warm blanket embracing her form, the gentle lighting that bathed the room, and the absence of any immediate threat. So, she was still here. It was not a dream. Her heart pounded in her chest. Everything felt too much. She couldfeel her body trembling. The question lingeredâhow had she transitioned from a moving train to this mysterious haven?
She refused to open her eyes till her heartbeat began to slow down. As her racing heart began to steady, she pondered the possibilities. Was it a dream? A delusion? Or had she truly been transported to a place beyond her understanding? The answers lay shrouded in the enigma of the unfamiliar room, waiting to be unveiled as she navigated this unexpected journey. She finally found courage to open her eyes. In the disorienting blur without her glasses, she found herself surrounded by figures draped in unfamiliar attire. Their voices melded into a symphony of incomprehensible sounds, leaving her bewildered and struggling to make sense of the situation. She saw tall figures standing near her bed. She screamed "What the fuck!".
She looked frantically to see clearing, her hands flying around her to find her glasses but everything seemed different. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes again. No, this is not real, she thought to herself, just take a deep breath, even if its real, its better to face reality with less adrenaline rush. She heard an unknown voice speaking in an unfamiliar language.
"Please let me focus", She muttered but incomprehensible chatter continued. The voices seemed to get closer to her. She decided to face them. She opened her eyes again. The figures were closer. The were....men dressed in.....robes?They were speaking something but she couldn't understand a word. She attempted to respond, her words stumbling in an attempt to bridge the linguistic gap.
Wait, where am I? Can anyone understand me?â
 The room echoed with a language she couldnât grasp, and the figures, seeming more like shadows in her blurred vision, continued their conversation in more unintelligible speech. As the frustration of being unable to communicate mounted, her panic intensified. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision even further. The alien surroundings, the strange language, and the inability to make herself understood became overwhelming.
âPlease, someone, help me understand. Where am I?
The figures exchanged glances, their expressions indecipherable. One of them, seemingly perceiving her distress, gestured for her to follow. With a mixture of fear and desperation, she stumbled after the shadowy figure, her cries echoing in the unfamiliar room.
 âWhy canât you understand me? Where am I going?â, she muttered to herself while walking.
The figures continued conversing amongst themselves, the strange language closing a linguistic barrier that seemed insurmountable. The roomâs colors blurred into a mosaic of confusion as she clung to the hope of finding answers. As they led her through the mysterious realm, she couldnât shake the feeling of being a lost wanderer in a place that defied explanation yet seemed to her very familiar, her cries of confusion echoing through the walls of palace.
 Lord CĂrdan, Glorfindel, Gildor, Lumion, and Fearon came in the room where their mysterious guest was staying. When they saw her walking up and saying something in a melodious voice. They began to talk. Lord CĂrdan was first to speak, âGreetings, traveler from beyond. Can you understand our words?â
The creature responded with a stream of sounds that were foreign to the elven ears, leaving the wise beings perplexed. Glorfindel ears perked up, he said to Lord CĂrdan, âHer language eludes us. We must find a way to bridge this gap and understand her plight.â
Lumion, quiped in, âIâve never encountered such linguistic diversity. Our words seem to dance away from her understanding.â
 As the creature grew more distressed, her attempts at communication turned into heart-wrenching cries. The elves, moved by compassion, sought a way to ease her turmoil.
Fearon, seeing her pretty face distressed was unable to contain her worry. She sople softly, âWe cannot let her suffer in confusion. There must be a way to connect with her. If we cant understand her, we can at least soothe her. There's nothing more soothing that nature. Lets take her to the gardens.âGildor mused, âLook at the patterns on her belongings. They speak of gardens and life. Indeed, let us bring her to the havenâs garden.â
Lord CĂrdan looked at her shaking form and sighed. He did not expected such fearful reaction from this little creature. He gently guided her to the garden. She followed him,her eyes downcast and form shivering. He wanted to hold her and tell her she was safe but he was fearing that might trigger intense reaction in her. Guiding the creature gently, he led her to the serene sanctuary of the garden, where a tapestry of flowers and foliage unfolded. He saw her looking at the flowers. He gentky smiled, âIn the language of leaves and blossoms, find comfort. Let the gardenâs beauty speak when words fail.â
As they walked amidst the vibrant flora, the creatureâs tears began to subside. The intricate patterns on her belongings seemed to resonate with the natural tapestry surrounding them. The creature, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the fragrance of blossoms, started to calm. The elves, though unable to decipher her words, shared a moment of understanding through the silent language of the gardenâa universal solace that transcended the boundaries of spoken communication.
 Her mind began to clear from the fog of confusion. Determined to understand her predicament, she made a gesture, a silent plea, for her glasses. She looked at the creatures that surrounded her. She looked at the bearded old man. As they had eye contact, the man seemed to freeze. It seemed like her was lost. What happened to them? she thought to herself, What the fuck is going on here!?
~â~â~â~â~â~â
Taglist @elvyshiarieko , @asianbutnotjapanese @bobitoo08
What to be in my taglist? Just drop a message â¤ď¸
#the hobbit#the lord of the rings#lotr#hobbit#silmarillion#lindir#glorfindel#glorfindel x mĂŽr x lindir#mĂŽr vin universe#mĂŽr vin universe origin story#Glorfindel x reader#Glorfindel x oc#lindir x reader#lindir x oc#Glorfindel x lindir#modern girl in middle earth#the rings of power
49 notes
¡
View notes
Text
A Part of Mine (Maedhros x Modern Reader)
Pairing: Maedhros x reader
Genre: pining and lots of pining
Summary: I'm waiting," you said firmly, your voice carrying a sense of unwavering conviction. "I know there's someone out there, someone extraordinary. I won't settle for anything less. I believe in true love, and I won't give my heart away to just anyone."
AN: Posting this to reduce the anxiety I feel before my shift.
As Maedhros stood upon the towering hills of Himring, his gaze fixed upon the distant horizon, his heart was heavy with longing. He could feel a connection, a yearning that transcended time and space. Visions would occasionally visit him, fleeting glimpses of another world, another time, where he sensed the presence of someone he had never met, yet felt intimately connected to.
In these visions, he saw you, a soul dwelling in a realm unknown to him. Your presence shone like a beacon, pulling at the strings of his heart. Though he had never laid eyes on you in the physical realm, your essence captivated him. The visions revealed moments of shared laughter, whispered conversations, and stolen glances that stirred his soul.
But alas, you were separated by worlds and ages. Maedhros lived in the turbulent era of the First Age, burdened by the weight of his responsibilities and the pain of his past. And you existed in a different time, a distant reality.
In the quiet solitude of his chambers, Maedhros would often close his eyes, seeking solace in the visions that connected him to you. He would envision moments where you reached out your hand, yearning for him, just as he yearned for you. His heart would ache with the knowledge that you were bound by circumstances he couldn't comprehend, unable to bridge the divide between their worlds.
Maedhros found himself drawn deeper into the visions that connected him to you, his soulmate from another world. In one such vision, he stood on the outskirts of a lively tavern, hidden in the shadows as he observed your interactions with your friends. Laughter filled the air, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and the muffled sound of music.
You sat at a table with your closest friend, nursing a drink in your hand. The alcohol had taken its toll, and you spoke with an uncharacteristic candidness. Your voice carried a mix of longing and frustration as you confided in your friend, unaware of Maedhros' presence in the ethereal realm of your visions.
"I don't understand," you slurred, your words slinking out with a hint of sadness. "Why can't I find someone who truly understands me? Someone who makes me feel alive, even in the chaos of this modern world?"
Your friend leaned in, concern etched across their face. "Maybe you're waiting for something, someone out of the ordinary. A connection that defies explanation."
You shook your head, your gaze distant yet focused. "I can't explain it, but I can feel it. It's like there's someone out there, someone who exists beyond the boundaries of time and place. And until I find them, I'll remain unmarried, waiting for a love that may never come."
Maedhros' heart tightened with a mixture of longing and hope. Could it be that you, too, felt the pull of destiny, the unspoken yearning for a love that transcended the limits of your world? In that moment, he understood the significance of their connection, realizing that you were not bound solely by the visions, but also by an innate sense of waiting and seeking.
As the vision continued to unfold, Maedhros watched with growing unease as your friends surrounded you, their voices filled with excitement and encouragement. They urged you to give the unknown man a chance, to explore the possibilities of a romantic connection in your world.
His brows furrowed, and a tinge of annoyance settled within him. How could they not see that your heart already belonged to him, even if you were unaware of his existence? Maedhros clenched his fists, his jealousy flaring once more as their words washed over you.
But then, something unexpected happened. You shook your head, a determined expression crossing your face. The light of defiance sparked in your eyes as you voiced your disagreement. The words that escaped your lips resonated deeply within Maedhros, easing the tension in his heart.
"I'm waiting," you said firmly, your voice carrying a sense of unwavering conviction. "I know there's someone out there, someone extraordinary. I won't settle for anything less. I believe in true love, and I won't give my heart away to just anyone."
Maedhros felt a rush of relief flood through him, his earlier annoyance dissipating like mist under the sun's warmth. Your unwavering loyalty and your refusal to settle for less touched his soul, reaffirming the strength of your connection. He saw in you the same devotion and yearning that burned within his own heart.
With newfound hope, Maedhros recognized that you were steadfast in your belief in soulmates, just as he was. Your refusal to succumb to societal pressures and pursue a relationship for the sake of it ignited a flicker of admiration within him. It was a testament to the depth of your character and the sincerity of your feelings.
As the vision faded away, leaving Maedhros alone in his chambers, he clung to the memory of your determined expression, finding solace in the knowledge that you were willing to wait for him. With renewed determination, he vowed to make his way to your world, to find you and prove that the love you sought was waiting for you in his arms.
In the depths of his visions, Maedhros found himself observing a scene where you sat with your mother, going through a stack of potential matches for a date. Your mother eagerly presented each profile, her voice filled with anticipation as she described the qualities and accomplishments of each suitor.
As you listened attentively, Maedhros couldn't help but interject his thoughts, even though he knew his words would go unheard by those around you. He watched as your mother held up a photo of a well-groomed man with a charming smile, proclaiming his success in business.
"He lacks depth," Maedhros murmured, his voice tinged with a touch of disappointment. "There is more to love than mere success."
Your mother continued, unfazed by the invisible presence beside you, showcasing another profile of a gentleman known for his athletic prowess and adventurous spirit.
"He seems adventurous, but does he truly understand your soul?" Maedhros questioned, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and longing.
The vision carried on, each suitor presented and dismissed, one after another. Maedhros found himself growing more restless with each passing moment, as if the wrong match could never truly fulfill the void in your heart. He yearned for you to find the love he knew only he could provide.
Finally, after a lengthy presentation, your mother paused, expecting your enthusiastic approval for at least one of the candidates. However, to her surprise, you looked up with a gentle smile and shook your head.
"Mother, I appreciate your efforts, but none of them resonate with me," you said, your voice filled with determination. "I believe that love is something deeper, something that cannot be found within these profiles. I won't settle for less than what my heart truly desires."
Though your words were directed at your mother, Maedhros felt his heart swell with hope and admiration. He knew that you were refusing these matches because, deep down, you yearned for a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space.
Maedhros found himself engulfed in another haunting vision, this time witnessing a scene filled with chaos and despair. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you, his soulmate from another world, caught in the midst of a horrific car accident.
The screeching of tires, the shattering of glass, and the cries of panic surrounded the scene. Maedhros stood frozen, his eyes fixed on you, trapped within the twisted metal wreckage of a car. His chest tightened with anguish, his mind racing with fear and helplessness.
Every fiber of his being screamed for him to intervene, to somehow reach out and shield you from harm. But he was painfully aware that this was a vision, a glimpse into a reality he could not directly alter or control.
Tears welled up in Maedhros' eyes as he watched the emergency responders arrive, their urgency and expertise evident as they worked tirelessly to free you from the wreckage. The weight of his emotions threatened to consume him as he yearned to be by your side, offering solace and reassurance.
Maedhros clenched his fists, his jaw set with determination. Though separated by worlds and dimensions, his love for you burned fiercely. He whispered words of protection and strength, hoping that somehow, his thoughts and prayers would reach you in that harrowing moment.
As the vision continued, the paramedics carefully extricated you from the car, their expertise evident in every precise movement. Maedhros held his breath, his heart pounding in his ears as they carefully placed you onto a stretcher and rushed you into the ambulance.
His eyes never wavered from you, his gaze filled with a potent mix of fear and love. He yearned to be by your side, to offer comfort and support in your time of need. But all he could do was watch, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was unable to physically be there for you.
The vision slowly faded, leaving Maedhros shaken and overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions. The glimpse into a possible tragedy served as a painful reminder of the fragility of life and the depth of his love for you.
Would your worlds ever converge or was this fate bound to these fleeting visions.
#the silmarillion#tolkien elves#silmarillion#noldor elves#silmarillion x reader#tolkien#angst#middle earth#romance#silmarillion headcanons#maedhros x reader#maedhros#modern reader#pining#lots of pining
160 notes
¡
View notes
Text
sending memes
pairing: legolas / modern!reader
word count: 2153
summary: it was remarkably easy to fall in love with the elven prince. unfortunately, it was somewhat harder to actually convey said feelings. thatâs when you decide to use memes
req: can i have legolas x reader with "sender quotes a poem that reminds them of receiver"? -@micheleamidalajedi
a/n: leave it to me to turn soft romance prompts into bullshit đi had to tweak it just a smidge but i think it's fine. mistor is gn sindarin for strayer/wanderer, aluon is gn sindarin for wholesome, & meril means artist or poet in woodelven sindarin
in the beginning, the elves had no idea what to do with you. you were far too brash and loud for court and had very little formal training in just about anything useful. your clothes were strange and there were dozens of words in your vernacular they didnât understand, and several of your mannerisms threw the elves of the greenwood into tizzies.
your consensus was that they tolerated you simply because you knew things you shouldnât, like the events of the first age and personal details about king thranduil that never saw the light of day.
some elves surprisingly enjoyed your presence very early on and jumped on the opportunity to learn about where you came from. of this number was legolas, a very adept learner who was easy on the eyes (and your heart, but thatâs neither here nor there).
youâve been in middle earth for a few years now, having jumped on the chance to stay and never return to a world slowly deteriorating. once you told the elves about various tragedies that had struck your earth in the past hundred years alone, even thranduil was terrified at the prospect of sending you back.
so now you were somewhat fluent in sindarin and best friends with a prince; oh, how the turntables.
âmistor!â your elvish name was cheerfully shouted across the training arena. âwatch this!â aluonâs voice was immediately recognized and it brought a smile to your face. he had been one of your very first friends in middle earth and despite his youth (for an elf), was placed on your royal guard for if you ever ventured beyond the greenwood. he was what you would call a cinnamon roll.
âokay, iâm watching!â
aluon was currently practicing with his throwing knives, his bow resting against the side of a training dummy. for all the praise a bow and arrow got from elves, he preferred his knives just a bit more.
he threw one last look over his shoulder to make sure you were indeed watching him before throwing the blade in his hand with a resounding âYEET!â
the knife landed directly in the bullseye because of course it did.
you could barely congratulate him on his aim and joke execution for your cackling, arms holding your stomach as if your body were truly coming undone. his laughter joined yours soon after, the two of you leaning on each other while trying (and failing) to catch your breath.
-
legolas has known you long enough to know that where boisterous laughter is heard, youâre likely the culprit. this is why his footsteps guided him to the training arena in the royal wing, the one reserved for himself, his father, and their most trusted friends and guards.
to his non-surprise, you and aluon were wheezing on the ground at some unknown joke. he approached you both with a smile of his own, sturdy hands helping you to your feet. âmellon nin, what lightens you so?â
âaluon was throwing knives and went âYEET!â and he hit the center of the target!â the cackling returned with renewed strength as you mimicked the motion and raucous screech of the four letter word.
ah, the practice of yeeting. you explained the word to him very early into your presence here and he found himself using the term on the odd occasion, much to your delight.
but legolas, as polite and regal as he was, felt the embers of friendly competition light in his chest. it wasnât about the aim of aluonâs throws, as logical but slightly unfounded as that claim would have been.
it was truly about your laughter. he wanted to be the reason you lit up with such mirth, he wanted to be responsible for the joy in your eyes.
with all the princely decorum he could muster, he armed himself with his bow, notched an arrow, and let it fly directly into the wooden handle of aluonâs blade.
then, with a straight face, he dabbed.
-
tauriel was a hard elf to get ahold of. as captain of the guard, she was always busy, flitting about while completing all sorts of duties.
but finally, two weeks after legolas made a show of dabbing in the training arena, you found her in a rare moment of rest. you knocked on the door to her rooms and when she opened it, you walked right inside and plopped yourself on the nearest chair.
âugh tauriel! finally, iâve been trying to talk to you for ages!â
she smiles warmly, always having been one to enjoy the mannerisms that made you so intensely human. âitâs good to see you too, mellon nin,â her chuckle is soft and sincere. âwhat do you need?â
you sighed, snatching a throw pillow from the chaise you were on and reclining back in a way reminiscent of a therapistâs office. âi need advice about legolas.â
her smile turned to a knowing smirk. âah, so you finally see what the entire kingdom already knows.â
âwhat do you mean âthe entire kingdom knowsâ? what do they know?!â
âah, i see i was mistaken.â
your resulting floundering was amusing to the redhead.
âiâm serious tauriel, i need your help!â you thought it useless to play coy and being vague would get you nowhere, so you told her exactly what you needed to know. âi need to know how to go about asking him on a date, or whatever it is that elves do when theyâre interested in someone.â
âwell,â she began, âif i know him as well as i think i do, he wouldnât want you to conform to elven traditions to please him.â
âwhatâs that supposed to mean?â at this point, you were beginning to question why you came to tauriel for help, seeing as she was being ridiculously cryptic and strangely unhelpful. âin case you forgot, heâs royalty. i canât exactly woo him with ridiculous memes and call it a day.â
she nodded. âwhy not? if that is a regular human courting tradition where youâre from, why would he not find it acceptable? itâs part of who you are, and one could only call themselves a worthy suitor if they appreciate those things about their intended.â
okay, she had a little bit of a point. not that you would tell her so, of course. âbut i canât text him memes at ungodly hours of the night, there still is a lack of cell phones to contend with.â
for someone so smart and otherworldly, tauriel thought, you were rather oblivious when your feelings got in the way of your common sense. âthen do those things in a different way. as youâve told me before, thereâs more than one way to skin a cat.â
after a few moments of silent pondering, you realized what she was hinting at. âi can draw the memes! or, well, i can ask meril for assistance in the matter, since iâm not quite used to using quills and such.â tauriel thought she could see the gears turning in your head (if that was indeed the right analogy).
she shouldnât have been surprised when you leaped from her chaise and wrapped her in a tight hug. humans in your world must be a bit more affectionate than the ones she was vaguely familiar with, âthank you thank you thank you! iâll let you know how it goes! bye!â with that abrupt exit, tauriel watched you fondly as you sprinted from your rooms, probably heading to the library where you could find meril.
-
legolas was fletching arrows when a courier appeared in his line of vision with a bow. âmy prince, a letter for you.â he accepted the outstretched letter with a nod, wondering what it could possibly be.
the parchment was familiar to him, being the very same quality that occupied his own writing desk in his chambers. the only momentary pause was seeing that the few words were written in westron, underneath a drawing of a radish with a tiny face.
âyouâre⌠radishing?â it took him a moment to dissect the pun, shoulders shaking minutely when the meaning fully registered. then his eyes caught your signature on the bottom of the page and his smile grew wider. he folds your letter neatly and tucks it into a pocket. when he goes back to his rooms next, he will deposit it securely on his desk to keep it safe.
the radish is the first of many of these pictures he receives from you, he soon learns that in the world you came from, theyâre called âmemesâ and can convey any number of things depending on the content and context.
during dinner one evening, you passed him a napkin that he unfolded to find another vegetable drawing, this time a smiling carrot, with the words âi carrot a lot about youâ that turned the tips of his ears pink. if his father noticed the blush he gave no indication of it.
your memes varied in artistic talent (he would know merilâs penmanship anywhere) but all carried the same intention, which seemed to be making him flustered at the most inopportune times. another thing he learned about memes was that they were frequently sent back and forth between two people.
his own visit to meril seemed to be long overdue.
-
meril has lived for several thousand years in service to the greenwood. yet, in all her centuries of knowledge and experience, sheâs never seen two beings dance around feelings with the same grace as prince legolas (or lack thereof, where you were concerned).
you taught her what memes were and provided descriptions of what you deemed âtemplatesâ for her to draw, master copies of a certain type of meme where the meaning of the meme changed depending on the text. it was a very interesting affair, if she did say so herself. they became more popular throughout the kingdom thanks to your influence, so much so that the prince himself came to her one day with an odd request.
âi need you to help me compose a meme worthy of mistorâs laughter.â he looked serious as he ever did, grim determination set in every pore of his face. none would know that he was simply trying to make a meme.
âyou need to be more specific, your highness. your dear mistor can find humor in nearly everything around them. in fact, yesterday afternoon, they spilled nearly a monthâs worth of ink onto a single piece of parchment and laughingly called it the thirteenth reason.â
legolas smiled at the story before his mind fully processed what she said. âtheyâre not my- thirteenth reason for what? what were the other twelve?â
meril shrugged, walking towards what became your desk in the library soon after your arrival. many of the templates were strewn about its surface haphazardly, half-finished memes next to their matching templates. âyou should find everything you need here, your highness. if mistor arrives before youâre gone, i shall keep them occupied.â
âthank you. i greatly appreciate your help.â
finding blank parchment and a quill, he dipped into your ink jar and quickly got to work.
-
you generally never got letters. any missives you received from various elves were dubbed simply as messages that just happened to be written, which is why being told there was a letter for you had you perplexed. it wasnât like modern earth discovered how to send carrier pigeons to middle earth in the few years youâve lived in the greenwood.
instead of asking the courier several questions about the contents of the letter, you simply bid him thanks and quickly tore into it.
the wax seal of the royal line was recognized in seconds. thranduil wouldnât waste his time writing anything out that he could simply tell you in person with a summons to wherever he happened to be.
that left legolas, and the thought made you giddy just thinking about it.
you registered that there were words written to you, but paid them no mind for the moment. what truly gave you surprise was the fact he used a template. you knew this because you recognized the format; a young girl standing in front of several other people who were giving her audience, a display board just behind her.
this bitch sent you a lisa simpson meme.
after a moment of bewilderment, you actually read the words that were just behind her.
âmistorâs laugh makes the plants grow stronger and could replace the sun with their joyâ
you could tell that towards the end he worried about having enough room for all the words in the square with how they got just a smidge smaller. but that didnât matter to you in the slightest, not when he wrote such a romantic sentiment solely for you. your giggles were the furthest thing from dignified but you didnât care.
you had a prince to find (and hopefully kiss, if things went your way).
#legolas x reader#legolas fanfic#legolas imagine#lotr imagine#lotr reader insert#lotr fanfic#legolas x modern!reader#modern reader in middle earth#lord of the rings imagine#lord of the rings reader insert#legolas thranduilion#prince legolas#jj writes shit
268 notes
¡
View notes
Text
IM SORRY BUT WE WONT SURVIVE ON THE FOOD IN MIDDLE EARTH
Alright so, after looking at the food in Middle earth it does look amazing BUT I WONT BE ABLE TO EAT MY NOODLES OR RICE!! Like I love my po-tat-oes but I can only eat so many until I have had my fill for the week. And let me not even get started on seasoning, Middle earth is based on Europe with a lot of similarities and differences but one small problem with this..... we got OUR SPICES from ancient Egyptian, Chinese, and Indian cultures so what do you my dear readers think the food in Middle earth tastes like? Pepper is going to become hot and salt the new sweet BECAUSE SUGAR IS ALSO FROM ASIA....
But just imagen coming from our world tasting a dish from Lord Elrond or someone else that is an important person and smack talk them for calling pepper spicy. You are going to be standing there and ask if you can make something for yourself cus this shit was so bland and boring. (Spoiler you are going to invent spices right then and there and become super rich and famous, Smaug can go and cry in a corner cus u wont be needing his treasure)
#bilbo baggins#fili durin#the hobbit x reader#the hobbit#x reader#middle earth#lotr x reader#thorin oakenshield#kili durin#fili and kili#dwalin#balin#ori#modern girl in middle earth
269 notes
¡
View notes