#rop requests

[queers-gambit]

The Rings of Power

requesting rules and masterlist

requests are CLOSED where to watch: Amazon Prime / Amazon Video

Shadows of the Past

the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

word count: 5.1k+

🖤 reader insert 💔 small angst 🐑 filler ❤️‍🩹 literal hurt and comfort 💍 established relationship 🛑 abrupt ending 🍭 insinuated friends to lovers 🐝 oneshot 🙊 general language and content warning 🥊 depiction of canon-typical physical violence and / or aggression 🩸 depiction of injury and blood 🔏 not edited

read here

Tower Scrolls

during the Siege of Eregion, Elrond barters for his fiancé's life, and her life's work.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

word count: 4.1k+

🖤 reader insert 🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🐑 pure filler, no worth 💍 established relationship ⚠️ spoilers 🐝 oneshot / stand alone 🙊 general language and content warning ☠️ canon-complicit character death 🥊 depiction of physical violence and / or aggression and / or abuse and / or torture 🩸 depiction of injury and blood 😵‍💫 wonky brain went wonky 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

Match Made in Grey Haven

you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

word count: 2.9k+

⏳ kinda AU timeline: takes place before TROP 🧸 fluff 🎭 small drama 🥰 romance ❤️‍🩹 small hurt and comfort 🍭 friends to lovers 🐍 small family angst: dead parents 🥦 healthy family relationships 😵‍💫 wonky brain went a little wonky 🧠 depiction of mental health: anxiety and maybe being shy? 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

part two: The Risk

after your wedding, you and Elrond embark on your honeymoon touring Middle-earth. your company is attacked on the road by Orcs. help comes from an old friend.

word count: 7.1k+

⏳ AU timeline 🧸 little fluff 🥰 romance 🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💍 established relationship 🍭 friends to lovers 🙊 general language and content warning 🥦 kinda healthy family views 🥊 depiction of physical violence 🥂 alcohol consumption 🩸 depiction of blood and injury 👰‍♀️ wife reader 😵‍💫 wonky brain went VERY wonky 🔏 not edited 🛑 kinda abrupt ending ?

read here

Commander

being on opposite sides of the Rings eventually sends your husband back into your arms, and between your legs. haha, nice.

word count: 4.6k+

🖤 slightly reader insert 🎭 drama 💔 angst 🥰 romance ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💦 smut 💣 small relationship angst 💍 established relationship ⚠️ slight spoilers 🔏 not edited

read here

Bait and Switch

Adar knows you by surname and reputation, but makes a fatal mistake: underestimating the mutual desire to reunite with your husband.

word count: 7.7k+

🖤 reader insert 🎭 drama drama drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💣 relationship angst (reader's a POW) 💍 established relationship ⚠️ spoilers 🐝 oneshot / stand alone 🙊 general language and content warning 🥦 healthy family dynamic 🥊 depiction of physical violence and / or aggression 🩸 depiction of blood and injury and slight gore (Reader bites off Orc finger) 💛 requires maturity and imagination 🩺 depiction of medical phenomenon (cauterization) 👰‍♀️ wife!reader 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

requesting rules and masterlist

[celebrimborium]

The ships are leaving for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late.

[feyhunter78]

I’m sorry I never ask for writing requests but your Elrond fics have stolen my heart. I was wondering if you could write about him and a reader who had been through some trials (bad parents preferably but whatever you’d like is good) and he talks about how brave she is? Like how he loves her because of it? And possibly some sweet smut if you could? If not that’s all good, I love love your writings!

So my requests areeee closed, but I do have a soft spot for Elrond and comforting people, so I thought I'd make an exception, there is no smut though I didn't feel like it would flow naturally

Courage and Comfort

It is strange the bonds that bind, the joys, and sorrows that collectively inhabit and pass down a family line, tainting one, honoring the other. An endless cycle of shared traits and habits, a history that one cannot blot out no matter how hard they endeavor to, and Valar knows you have endeavored for years upon years to cleanse yourself, to rewrite the past. But you can no more do that than the sun can refuse to rise in the morn.

Though when you hear news that your parents were in Lindon, to visit your sister, you feel as if the sun has refused to rise, darkness overwhelming you, choking you. The news is delivered by a young elf, who looks appropriately concerned when the scrolls you are holding clatter to the ground, stooping low to retrieve them for you. You take them gratefully and dismiss him, your feet taking you away from your previously chosen path, and back to your shared chambers with Elrond.

But fate did not favor you, and you passed by your parents in the gardens. You kept your head held high as you made brief conversation with them, moving about as if it had not taken all your strength, until you were blessedly at the door to your chambers, scrolls clutched tightly to your chest.

Elrond, your sweet husband who no doubt will be buried in his work with the High King, you do not wish to bother him with your fear, your sorrow. He has spent so very long comforting you, the last time your parents had deigned to visit Lindon. Your vision blurs and you wipe your eyes, angry. You will not cry because of them; they did not deserve your tears. And yet when you cross the threshold, depositing the scrolls on your desk, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and cannot stop them from flowing. How in such a short span of time have they wrecked you? They barely spoke a few words to you, and it has affected you so greatly.

Sinking down into a nearby chair, you bury your face in your hands, breathing slowly as you attempt to calm yourself. Attempt to push your fear and grief far from your body, to let it evaporate into the air and disperse, no longer plaguing you. After a while it works, a lightness replacing the heavy weight on your chest, the sunlight returning, the birds singing, and Elrond is there seated in the chair across from yours. You startle, having not heard him come in, your cheeks heating as embarrassment flushes through you.

“My love, apologies, I did not realize you had returned.” You say, giving him a weak smile.

Elrond shakes his head, reaching forward and taking your hands in his. They are warm, gentle, calloused more now that he has returned to training with his sword. “The messenger came and found me; he was concerned for your wellbeing.”

You give a soft, half-convincing laugh. “What a sweet boy, he simply surprised me, but it was very kind of him to be concerned.”

Elrond’s thumbs smooth over the backs of your hands, his oakwood eyes focused entirely on you, pulling you in, paging through your defense like they are a children’s book. You have never been able to hide your true feelings from him. “It brings me no joy to hear your parents are visiting, even if it is not to see you.”

It is an opening for you to speak your mind without judgement, a way to ease any guilt you may have for expressing reluctance, or anger for he has done it first. It warms your heart, how he cares for you, how he strives to make expressing your more difficult feelings and emotions easier.

“I ran into them, on my way here, I know it would bring them great pleasure if I hid while away for the rest of their visit, but I cannot—will not let them win. I have done well for myself, risen above their contempt, this is my home, I should not have to hide.”

“No, you should not.” He affirms easily, his expression steady but sorrowful. 

“I know I should not.” You look down at your joined hands, swallowing hard. “But why do I feel so afraid of the very idea?”

“Because you have never done it before.” He says simply, his voice calm, soothing the fluttering of fear in your chest.

You cannot meet his gaze. “Perhaps I am not courageous enough.”

“You are. Courage is not the absence of fear, but the act of looking past it, persevering even when you are afraid.” He reminds you, releasing one of your hands to gently tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his. “You are very brave, my starlight, you proved it today. You did not run, you faced them head on.”

“I had no choice.” You deflect, though his words pull your heart further into the light.

“That does not negate the fact that you stood your ground, you could have run.” There is a smile tugging at his lips, one that makes you wish to smile as well.

You give a slight shrug, looking away. “I guess you are not wrong.”

Elrond chuckles and brushes his thumb across the center of your lips. “I am never wrong when it comes to the bravery of my starlight.”

His touch makes you shiver, all fear, and sorrow banished, replace by a warm, glowing feeling. “Oh?”

He nods and sweeps a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Your courage is one of the many things I love so dearly about you.”

“Is that so?” You ask, your head tilting up instinctively seeking out his lips.

“Yes, your courage and kindness, your beauty, your intelligence, it all ensnared me for the moment we met.” He says, his lips brushing against yours with each word.

Your heart skips a beat, even though you have heard these words hundreds of times, they still affect you all the same.

You loop your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap, his lips meeting yours with slow languid movements, soft and sweet, he tastes of sunlight, banishing any lingering darkness from your mind. Your body and mind align, tuning your senses to Elrond, losing yourself in his very existence. The scent of him, the taste, the feel of his hair, his hands, his lips against yours. You can certainly continue to be brave if this is your reward.

TROP tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace, @emmyspov, @elrondswifey, @victoria-styles, @90angiex, @lucypaulette

[valar-did-me-wrong]

Thankyou @folatefangirl for sharing this textpost! 🫶🏽

Part: 87/?

[ghostinthetumbchine]

Um. Guys.

Real talk for a moment.

Queer readings of Sauron precede any movie or tv show, they have been there from day one and for a good reason. Tolkien purposefully underlined him seducing and appearing "fair" to men primarily for a reason - he might have done so due to internalised homophobia and villanization of those traits but they have been there nonetheless.

Now I know that it might be tempting to dismiss other relationships for the sake of underlining how special your otp is - and i dont even disagree that it is special! - but lets please be careful about implications of doing so when it may start crossing into erasing/dismissing callously queer readings of a character.

Just because you don't see it doesn't mean its not there and hasn't been there for a while. And amazon not having the balls to be more explicit about it doesnt erase it either

[morganas-pendragons]

I have another Celebrimbor comfort fic coming probably tomorrow morning. Does anyone want to be tagged in this??

[maul-of-shame]

Emerging from My Hobbit Hole to Say…🎁🌲

Just crawled out of my cave (read: food coma, plague, games marathons and winter hibernation) to deliver some news like a slightly more frazzled Elven courier (Call me Lindir the way I show up, deliver news, and then vanish faster than Elrond’s approval-). First of all, I hope your December has been more Rivendell feast and less Mordor vibes!!!✨

Now, onto the updates! My Santa fics and Forgotten Elves one-shots will be posted between the 25th and the 30th of December because, like a certain wizard, I’ve got a bunch of stuff to deliver—and I’m trying not to trip over my own metaphorical robe in the process!!!😅

On another note, I’m attempting to RELAX (she says while vehemently cursing every sentient and non-sentient being in sight) by diving back into SWTOR and The Witcher 3. Nothing like some lightsabers and Geralt to soothe the holiday chaos, right?🗡️✨

TL;DR: expect your festive treats soon, delivered with all the care of an Elf embroidering a cloak of starlight. Thanks for your patience while I recover from my second breakfast (and third dinner)!

Oh, and for those of you waiting on "Of Tides and Sorrow" and "Gilded Choices": updates will drop either right on Christmas or a few days after—but definitely before the New Year (because deadlines are my own personal Balrog). Stay tuned and pray for my sanity!!!😂

[runawaymun]

Celebrimbor and Meaglin for pride!

underrated ship IMO. Thank you!!

[rings-of-power-realm]

Ship Request

Galadriel x Elendil

[ladymercysletters]

just your friendly reminder that requests are open

[queers-gambit]

Match Made in Grey Haven

prompt: ( requested ) you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 2.9k+

note: it's not much, i'm so sorry.

warnings: takes place BEFORE the events of TROP, abrupt ending, small hurt mostly comfort, feelings are hard, author is very abrasive and isn't sure this is conveyed fully as "shy" so i'm sorry, anxiety, unedited, wonky brain goes wonky, fluff, small drama, lost + healthy family relationships, romance, friends-to-lovers.

part two: The Risk

"You appear ill at-ease," Círdan mentioned as he casually strolled from the shadows of his workshop, the last of the day lingering in a warm glow, "which I am not accustomed to seeing on a face such as yours."

Elrond, busy at work carving one of the perfect ships his old master was crafting a fleet of, barely slowed down but did glance up in acknowledgment. He sniffled hastily, looking back at the pliable wood under his hands.

"Merely focused, my Lord, nothing more."

"Hm," Círdan hummed, pacing around slowly, hands clasped behind his back, chin up, shoulders back, grey locks glistening in familiar waves, "interesting choice of words."

"How so?" Elrond paused to pet the curve of the wood, trying in vain to hide his true bubbling feelings. He went straight back to work, aware Círdan watched him closely.

"Y/N said the exact same." This made the High King's Herald pause in full, Círdan smirking, "Ah, just as I suspected."

"I do not think - "

"You fool nobody but yourself," Círdan chuckled, waving off Elrond's words and stepping closer to admire the boat carving. "She cares for you, too, you know?"

"With respect, my Lord... But you are mistaken," Elrond deflected. "Your granddaughter and I, we are merely friends - if that. We only exchange letters - "

"And feelings," Círdan pointed out, watching Elrond flush under his interrogation. Just outside the doors, you approached, thinking you would fetch your grandfather for supper; slowing when the older, wiser Elf tisked, "Ah, come now, Elrond, do not look so forlorn, there are worst fates than that of emotional - "

"With respect," Elrond repeated, cutting Círdan off, your hand hovering over the door handle, "there are no emotions involved when it comes to your granddaughter."

You froze.

"Yet I will not believe that," Círdan shot back.

"There is little to be said that might sway you, my Lord, but it is true. We are..." You listened as Elrond took a sharp inhale, "We are friends, nothing more. Our foundation lays in companionship, we exchange letters - share our thoughts, ideas, and feelings. There's nothing more."

Círdan hummed in amusement, "That so? Then... Why, in the past 6 months, have you come here - what is it? Six? Seven times?"

"Eight," Elrond corrected automatically, wincing when your grandfather chuckled and you lowered your hand. Yet you did not walk away yet.

"You claim business with the High King brings you to us so frequently," Círdan continued, "yet, the matters discussed can be solved through letters alone. Nothing that deems an emissary. So, tell me in truth... Why?"

"My Lord?"

"Why do you come? I know it is not for Gil-Galad alone, so, tell me in truth, why the frequent trips?"

You could hear Elrond resume his wood carving and you became acutely aware of your position. Backing away, you fled the scene, petrified over the idea of being caught; yet your mind was stuffed full with what you heard. It'd been years since you first met Elrond, the young, fresh, baby-faced Herald of the High King; and while initially fascinatingly attracted to him, you were detrimentally shy.

Like, so shy, it makes you mute - to an extent.

He wasn't a Herald yet, though, and came to apprentice under your grandfather. Elrond became a constant presence around the Grey Havens - a talented, shining star of a student who studied diligently. You admired his work from afar at first, then, Círdan asked you to row one of Elrond ships around the harbor.

It was well known you were the apple of Círdan's eye; his favorite thing in the material world, the reason he refused to give himself over to the Valar yet. He was supposed to sail... But his daughter was soon to give birth, so he waited; and thankfully, because plague claimed your father and mother from complications of your birth. So, Círdan raised you.

Elrond panicked at Círdan's request, stepping into your pathway without thought and gasping, "No!" You shied back into your grandfather's side, the dark haired Elf amending swiftly, "I apologize, I-I did not mean to be so - so abrupt. But... Let me work a few more days, ensure it is to perfection."

You smiled gently and nodded, Círdan smirking and leading you away - the start of a formal friendship. After testing Elrond's boat (when ready), you sent him a note that expressed your impression and complimenting his woodworking skills, even saying you looked forward to his future creations.

His first letter back to you was one of thousands, and the start of his Heraldry.

Yet now, in present day, you wondered if these letters weren't enough and if he thought you untruthful in your declaration of affection. While your companionship had now lasted decades, you were still insecure enough that you lose wit, cheek, and tongue when he's around. And now, the past half a year, you've seen him eight times and couldn't muster your courage, and perhaps, it wasn't enough for Elrond anymore.

You just expressed yourself better in words! And you didn't leave Círdan's side; you did not venture around Middle-earth, never left your sanctuary. You adored Elrond's accounts of adventures and travels and work, it was your only time to "live", even if vicariously.

Now, worriment set in; anxious that you weren't enough.

"Ah," Círdan hummed as he and Elrond entered your humble home for supper, "it smells divine in here, sweet girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, setting the table for the meal as Elrond was the one who would not meet your eye.

"I'll be a moment, I need to wash up," he excused himself, always presentable; forever perfect.

You just sighed as he slipped from the room; a typical guest in your home, especially with his...recent increased business from the High King. "You seem pensive," Círdan noted, taking the bowl of salad to the table for you. "Is there anything on your mind you wish to discuss?"

"Nothing of note."

"Then speak to me of something not of note."

"If it is of no note, Grandfather, why give it voice?"

"Because it still takes up room, be it in your head and heart - which gives it validation to speak of."

You paused at the table, finding him grinning, offering an unamused glare. "I told you not to do that," you reprimanded softly.

"Do what?"

"Your - little - your pearls wisdom!" You groaned childishly, collapsing into a chair. "You can let me stew and figure things out for myself, we do not always have to speak of matters. It is an unfair advantage that I am inundated with your pearls and others toil for direction!"

Círdan chuckled, folding his hands before his dinner plate. "To complain of such an advantage is - "

"I know."

"Then why do it?"

"Because..."

"You are frustrated with your own emotion that you refuse to give life to?"

With a huff, you nodded, "Exactly."

"What is the matter?"

Your head shook in deflection, "Perhaps, I am just overwhelmed. I think I'll take a walk - "

"But supper - "

"I'll eat later," you promised, reaching out to lay your hand on his and smile, "I just need a few moments to breathe. Eat, enjoy, I'll find you later."

You left before another word could be spoken. When Elrond reentered the kitchen, he only found Círdan and wondered, "Where's Y/N?"

"She seemed distraught, saddened by something. She decided to go for a walk, clear her head a bit."

"Right," Elrond nodded, feeling awkward just standing there.

"Come, sit, eat," Círdan invited with a small smirk, "she's probably gone off to the workshop, she likes to write there. Says it's more inspiring than the library. Come, Elrond... She'll be awhile."

Elrond frowned and looked to the door, Círdan knowing his words were replaying in the half-Elf's mind. "Perhaps I should check on her?" He asked his old Master. "It would be wrong to eat without the chef, would it not?"

"I was thinking the same," the older, greying Elf nodded, "though you waste your time, that girl is stubborn - trapped in her mind too often."

"How do you mean?"

"It's why she writes," Círdan explained, "at least, why she writes you, I imagine. She often loses her voice, feels as if she is not entitled to it's very being - so, she writes, uses her words... And seemingly, you understand them best - relate to her, in a way. So," he took a breath, "go, if you wish, but know, she's unlikely to speak."

Elrond was out the door before Círdan could uncork the bottle of wine left on the table. He smirked to himself, musing, "Oh, these kids..."

You had left your home and made a beeline for your grandfather's workshop, shutting the doors with a great big breath of relief before groaning in emotional frustration. "Oh, how silly!" You snipped to yourself, "This is all so silly, it makes no sense! I mean, the way I just shut down? It's so silly! Losing my voice? Over a man? Oh, just rubbish!" Your hands shook out violently. "I just need to say it, you know? I just need to say it - then he knows, he'll know and I can get rid of this silly feeling. He deserves to hear me say it, else he might think he's unwelcome, he might not want to visit..." You were unaware of Elrond approaching the door, opening it as you groaned once more, "OH! He's just a lad! He's just like you, you silly lass! Well, not entirely just like me - but he's just - he's just Elrond! What is there to fear!?"

"Is there someone else here I should address?" Elrond smirked gently as he stepped forward to make himself known, "Or do you often speak of me, to yourself?"

You squeaked and came to a halt, dress twirling around your ankles when you spun to face him. Hands came together, instantly threading your fingers and wringing them together nervously as your visitor smiled gently and slowly (so slowly) stepped forward. With a deep breath, you greeted, "Lord Elrond."

"Oh, please," he sighed, "are we not past formalities?"

"Far beyond," you agreed, shaking your head and facing the open wall that showcased the harbor and horizon; the last of the sunlight streaking the sky with water-painted color.

"It felt wrong to indulge on such a gorgeous creature without the architect being there to experience it first," he told you, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with respectable distance still between you. "Yet you fled before..."

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, feeling suffocated briefly, "I could not linger."

"Is there a reason to feel unwelcome in your own home?"

You took a breath, "Well, um, it's just - it's you... You are the reason..."

Elrond startled, "What? I-I'm sorry, what have I done? What did I do?"

"You're you," you turned to him, "and that's not your fault, but you're you, and it drives me to insanity."

"I don't think I follow? I thought - in our letters, I thought we had a connection. That we understood one another...? And now that I'm here, you shy away from me, have I truly offended you so gravely?"

"No, Elrond, you have not offended me - it's the opposite," you risked your own comfort and reached out for his bicep first; which, in turn, made him step closer. "You are not betrayed, nor are you mistaken. There's a connection, of course there is. I do not know anyone who could fake such affection for such an extended period of time," you scoffed.

"Perhaps Sauron - "

"But you nor I are he."

"No," Elrond smiled gently, shifting his arms downward to hold your elbows and caress you into his chest as your hands were rearranged to his chest, "we are not, thank the Valar."

"I do not deceive you. The affection I hold for you, it's authentic and genuine. It's real, Elrond, it's real..."

"It is?" He asked, lifting a hand to hold your jaw; thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

"It is. I was just... You disarm me. You make me small again, you make me tongue-tied, confused, excited - like everything is new again. And it both scares and invigorates me that I do not know what to do in those moments, so I hide from you. In your letters, I can plan my words; but when you're here, in front of me, under my hands," you cooed, petting his velvet tunic, "I lose my nerve. My senses..."

Elrond chuckled, hands drifting down to hold you by the base of your ribcage, "This... This is a relief to hear. I worried I offended you, that I had upset you in some way. That I ruined this before it had a chance to take shape."

"Hardly," you mused. "I lose my nerve around you, I feel so silly - so young and green to love..."

"'Love'?" He repeated.

"Oh, I just - I only meant - "

"Take comfort in the fact that the feeling is mutual, my sweet." Elrond chuckled, caressing your cheek lovingly, "I fear the High King may grow tired of me asking to personally deliver Círdan his letters."

"Perhaps I will have to find reason to visit you?"

"I would like that, perhaps more than I should admit," he whispered, slowly lowering his lips onto yours for a much awaited kiss - giving you every opportunity to back out, but it's not like you ever would. Not when you've waited for this for so long. His hand now cupped your jaw, sliding sweetly towards the back of your neck. Kissing Elrond was everything you thought: soft, gentle, evenly-paced, commandeering, all encompassing, and mind-numbing; you never wanted this to end, you never wanted to stop kissing him.

However, your moment was cut short by a loud crunching; pulling back as Elrond did, both turning to the main doors to spy your grandfather, Círdan, standing there smugly. He was holding a bowl made of bamboo, eating a crisp salad, barely holding back his grin. Upon seeing his mirthful expression, you deflated into Elrond's chest; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you anchored in place while the other dropped to open his stance - proving he didn't feel defensive.

"Grandfather?" You questioned softly.

"Mh," he swallowed his bite, "don't mind me, just appreciating the fruits of my labor."

"I beg your pardon?" You laughed.

Círdan shrugged, "You are both young and intelligent. Wise. Insightful," he listed, "yet you are so naïve to think this union was yours alone."

Elrond glanced down at you in confusion, brows furrowed, asking, "What do you mean, my Lord?"

"Grandfather, it was Elrond and I who penned letters for decades - "

"Indeed," Círdan agreed, "but why do you think the High King has sent Lord Elrond to us so often these past few months?"

You were both stunned into silence, Elrond asking, "You? You asked him to...to send me?"

"I did," Círdan nodded, "it is disheartening to see my granddaughter, whom I love so utterly and dearly, driven into isolation because emotions can be so complicated and difficult. It was time for you two to finally confront your emotions, and after three months, we both knew we had to up our efforts..."

"The High King was in on this!?" You squeaked, feeling embarrassment seize your heart.

"You know, despite being High King, Gil-Galad is still fun," Círdan defended with a smirk. "So, he devised new engagements to send Elrond here for - giving the two of you longer days together between my responses. He agreed to send Herald Elrond himself here upon my encouragement. From your first interaction, I saw what you two have always felt. It's good of you to admit your feelings, is it not? Relieving, I mean?"

"Terribly," you agreed, Elrond rubbing your waist in support.

"Well, then you'll be happy to know, I've begun my response to Gil-Galad, so you'll have a few more days here, Elrond. I expect that boat done," he teased, "and upon your return to Lindon, I will be sending my granddaughter to accompany you as my own emissary."

"What for?" You breathed in shocked happiness, lips turning up brightly.

"It is time you begin a new education, my girl," he grinned, "and the High King has granted his blessing."

"Why would the High King be involved for my education?"

"I want you on a tour of Middle-earth," he explained, "meeting dignitaries, taking notes on what you see, hear, experience. I want detailed accounts, my girl, for our records so the King has agreed to send Herald Elrond to guide your tour."

"You've done all of that... For me?" You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes, pure glee lightening your heart and head. Then, a sudden thought made you worry, "Why? Do you wish to away with me?"

"On the contrary," Cirdan set aside his bowl and approached you, Elrond letting go so you two could meet in the middle of the workshop, "I despise the idea of letting you go, even to carry my work back to the High King... Knowing you'll return shortly... But sending you on this tour is a necessity, sweet girl, because I only trust your written accounts. It's time... It's time for you to see the world I've long protected you from as it truly is and bring us back update records and accounts, and who better to show it to you than Elrond Peredhel?" He smiled, looking over your shoulder at his ex-student. You felt Elrond near your flank, Círdan looking at the two of you fondly; even reaching out to caress your cheek as he breathed in deeply. "What joy my heart feels, knowing you two have found one another."

"What joy we feel you decided to play matchmaker," you chuckled.

"Well, they say perfection only exists in Valinor, but I was determined to challenge that."

part two: The Risk

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[celebrimborium]

Dropping 3 episodes at once is such an evil thing to do to gifmakers! Just saying!

(jk I love it)

[feyhunter78]

Thank you so much lovely! My Gil Galad story is that yn is Erlronds sister, so like her brother she’s half human, and for that she suffers a bit from other elves. Gil Galad has been in love with her from the moment he laid his eyes on her and wants nothing more than to love and cherish her. But she doesn’t think she’s worth it of the King, until he proves her wrong. What do you think?

Of course!!!! This was a great prompt, and I had such a good time writing it!!!

The High-King's Love

You know it’s foolish. You’ve told yourself a million times, and others have chastened you as well for your lofty feelings, but you cannot rid yourself of your love for Gil-Galad any more than you stem the flow of blood from your heart. So, you suffer in silence, knowing that you will never be worthy of him, never be accepted as High-Queen.

How could you be? You are half-mortal, too human for the elves and too elvish for the humans. Your younger brother, Elrond, urges you not to think in such a way, to confess your feelings for Gil-galad and see if he returns them.

The High-King has never married, never been seen with a lover, so reason stands that you may have a chance. But you’re too afraid to take the shot. To pull back the drawstring and let your arrow fly, hoping desperately that it will hit its mark and not fly off into the weeds.

So, you ignore the man, flee conversations with him, hide in your chambers when he calls upon you, and take your meals in solitude. This is partially due to your own fear, and partially in order to cease the cruel whispers.

The others of the court had begun to turn on you, speaking harshly of you behind your back. Whispering that you would attempt to seduce the king with your scandalous half-mortal ways, or that your diluted blood would taint his own pure and royal bloodline and put an end to the great Elven kings.

But it is the rumors of your inadequacy that sting the most. That you cannot cook, or clean, that you have no skill in weaving or battle. That your singing voice is a frog’s croak, your dancing like that of a lumbering bear. All untrue, and you know that in your heart. But when Gil-galad goes out of his way to help you through the steps of a newer dance, or calls for a servant to clean the spilled wine, you feel as if he thinks you a failure as well.

You’re walking in the garden, attempting to get some fresh air and quiet your mind before bed, when you hear them. Lady Aria and Lord Arannis, a married pair who have taken a particular dislike to you and your brother.

“I hear the High-King has called upon her many times, and she refuses to appear.” Lady Aria said, a disbelieving tone to her voice.

“You think that is bad, my love? I was told that he wished to replant all the flowers outside her quarters to be those of her favorite flower.”

“She surely has enthralled him with some strand of mortal lust, a pity her kind is allowed to roam free.”

You bit your lip to muffle your sob, and stumbled backwards, tears blurring your vision as you fled in the opposite direction of their cruel words.

And as luck would have it, you ran right into Gil-galad.

He catches you, his warm hands on your shoulders, his eyes filled with concern. “Lady y/n, what ails you?”

The dam breaks, and you tell him everything, the cruel words, the whispers, your feelings of inadequacy, and most importantly your affections for him. It all comes tumbling out as you sob into his robe.

He cups your face gently, raising your head, your eyes forced to meet his, and he kisses you. It’s soft and sweet and fills you with a steady warmth that dries your tears.

“I love you, y/n, I have longed to speak those words, but have held myself back in fear you would not return them.” He admitted, his forehead resting against yours.

“But I am not fit to be your queen, our people will never accept me.” You whispered, knowing you should pull away but finding yourself unable to.

“Why do you think such things? Because those who are jealous, whisper them in the dark? Leave their darkened hearts in the shadows and join me. Step forward into the light, y/n, I wish for no queen but you.”

You wanted to believe him, truly you were believing him. His calm and steady voice, rich and deep, vibrating through your bones, calming your worrying heart.

His hands gripped yours, and he brought them to his lips. “I will put an end to their words, whether you accept my plea to rule by my side or not. Even if you reject me, it still wounds my heart to see you suffer.”

“You love me?” You asked, looking up at him nervously.

“Yes, you are intelligent and beautiful, kind, and charming. You care for our people even when they are cruel to you, and you have been a loyal heart. I could ask for no better queen.” His words are full of sincerity, and you feel a surge of bravery.

Going up on your toes, you press your lips to his. “I will marry you; I will be your queen.”

He smiles into the kiss and brushes his lips across your forehead before offering you, his arm.

You take it hesitantly, and he leads you back down the path.

“Lady Aria, Lord Arannis, good evening.” He calls to them.

They look surprised to see you on the High-King’s arm but make no comment, simply greeting you both.

“It seems you two will be the first to hear our good tidings.”

“Good tidings, my king?” Lord Arannis asks.

“We are to be married; Lady y/n has finally accepted my proposal.” He smiles down at you.

You smile shyly up at him, biting back a laugh at the shocked looks on the pair’s faces.

“That is—well…very exciting, my king.” Lady Aria stutters, taking her husband’s arm and beginning to pull him away. “We shall spread the good tidings to all we see.”

“Please do. I shall make an official announcement on the morrow.” He calls after the retreating pair.

You giggle and lean into him, “That will certainly change the tide of whispers.”

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer.

 You sigh in relief, feeling content, nuzzled into your soon-to-be husband’s side.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace

[lafortezaboy]

the most wonderful time of the year

request: "can you write something cute with daniela from katseye. like maybe her and the reader being cute around the other girls. i just read an angsty one with her and i need to recover :("

warnings/triggers: fluff, established relationship, gender neutral reader

it didn't come as a surprise to you that daniela was a festive person. she hadn't stopped gushing about the gifts (yes, plural) she'd gotten you, and she'd been the one who bought the two of you matching christmas sweaters – not ugly sweaters, she wouldn't have either of you looking anything less than amazing. but as festive as she was, it had taken one little debate with manon over beyonce songs for your girlfriend to leave you alone to put up the christmas tree so they could settle it like real adults – by having a snowball fight. thankfully for you, yoonchae had seen what you were doing and decided to join in, so it wasn't all on you.

which – of course you'd been ropped into putting up the tree. you had come over with your laptop and snacks, fully intending to make daniela watch a new anime with you, but her pout as she asked you to help her put up the tree had made you putty in her hands. until, of course, manon had asked you if you preferred love on top or crazy in love as shevwas putting together a playlist and you were in their shared bedroom as much as they were, and before you could answer daniela had picked crazy in love, starting the debate that escalated quickly.

you were in the middle of placing ornaments on the tree with yoonchae when you felt arms circle around your waist, and a head press against your shoulder. it was no question who it was, your hand reached down to squeeze daniela's that was resting on your stomach. she was cold to the touch, and you placed the ornament on the tree before turning, your arms wrapping around her to pull her in closer.

"my poor baby, you're so cold," you spoke as she hid her face in your neck, rubbing your hands up and down her back until a squeal escaping you as she pressed her cold nose against your skin. the laugh she let out had you beginning to pull away, but her hold tightened on you and she didn't let you go. "no no, i'm sorry, let me steal your body heat." at least she was being honest about using you for your warmth. you couldn't resist the urge to tease her for it though.

"you know, maybe if you had let me answer, manon wouldn't have had to turn you into a dani-sicle," you said, even though your lips pressed against her temple as you did. she let out a huff, pouting up at you. you couldnt help but press a soft kiss yo her lips then. "did you at least win?" you asked once you pulled away, and laughed when the pout worsened in response. "gosh, you're gonna bring my reputation down with yours baby."

"what reputation? you were a dork way before i met you," daniela said, and you raised your eyebrows slightly. "you better be nice to me if you want to keep stealing my warmth," you responded, but made no effort to move out of her grasp.

it was then that manon came into the room, having gone to change out of her wet clothes, and the sight of daniela in your arms made her let out a scoff full of amusement. "that's not fair, if i lost i wouldn't have anyone to baby me, you two need to stop being so cute."

a little huff escaped daniela again as her grip tightened on you, and you met manon's eyes with a grin on your face. "don't worry manz, i would've babied you too. because you're right, love on top is better."

the indignant yell daniela let out was almost as loud as the laugh manon let out, and the blonde pulled back from you to leave a light swat on your shoulder. "no way! you're my space heater, not hers! she can get her own, you're mine." you just laughed as you pulled her back into your arms.

next to you, yoonchae stared at the two of you for a moment, as if trying to find the words she wanted to say. "you wouldn't be as cute with manon," she finally said, and you smiled a little as you rested your chin on daniela's shoulder. "you were supposed to be cute with her, not anyone else."

a warmth you couldn't quite explain filled you at yoonchae's words, but you knew she was right. there was no way you could've been with anyone else, not when daniela existed. you hadn't believed in soulmates until you'd met her, but you hadn't ever really felt complete until you'd held daniela in your arms, either. so maybe yoonchae was right, and you simply were meant to be cute with daniela.

[erebusbabylon]

Prompt: Celebrimbor teaching reader to use the forge as a way to spend more time with her, but she has an accident and gets hurt/burns herself or something and he has to take care of her

Can we have that? As a lil treat?

Awwee this was a cute prompt! I hope you like what I did with your request! <3

Accident at the Anvil

(RoP! Celebrimbor x F! Reader) - No Warnings

You gazed out of a tall window, watching as the last rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, your heart heavy with longing. Celebrimbor had been consumed by his work lately, tirelessly forging armor for the Elven army. Each day felt longer without him by your side.

With a sigh, you turned away from the window and sought the company of a close friend. “I miss him,” you confessed, your voice laced with sadness. “He’s gone all hours of the day, and I hardly see him anymore.”

Your friend nodded sympathetically. “His work is important. But you deserve time together too.”

Determined, you decided to visit the forge. You made your way through the winding paths of Eregion, the sound of hammers striking metal growing louder as you approached.

The forge was alive with the glow of molten metal, the air thick with the smell of smoke and heat. You stepped inside, the warmth wrapping around you like a comforting cloak. Celebrimbor stood at the anvil, his brow furrowed in concentration, surrounded by pieces of intricate armor.

“Ah, my light,” he said, setting down his tools. He wiped his brow and approached you. “What brings you here?”

“I missed you,” you replied, your heart swelling at the sight of him. “I am desperate to be near you.”

He smiled but quickly glanced back at the armor. “I miss you too, beloved, but I have to finish this armor quickly. The army needs it.”

You felt a pang of disappointment but understood. The urgency of his task weighed heavily on him. “I know,” you said gently. “But I feel like I hardly see you anymore.”

Celebrimbor paused, his gaze softening as he stepped closer. “You’re right. I have been neglecting our time together. How about this: keep me company while I work? I can teach you how to forge a bit if you'd like.”

Your heart leaped at the suggestion. “Really? I would love that!”

He chuckled, a light in his eyes. “But you must promise to be careful. The forge can be dangerous.”

“I promise,” you replied, excitement bubbling within you.

Celebrimbor began explaining the basics of forging. He demonstrated how to shape metal, the rhythm of the hammer striking against the anvil, and how to manage the fire.

As the hours passed, you found joy in the process. The heat of the forge felt invigorating, especially as you worked alongside Celebrimbor, stealing glances at him when he concentrated on his craft. The bond between you deepened with each shared moment.

“Remember to keep your hands steady,” he advised, guiding your movements as you attempted to shape a piece of metal. “And never lose focus.”

You nodded, intent on following his advice. But as you worked, your excitement made you a bit careless. While reaching for a tool, your sleeve brushed against a large, glowing ember, sending a sharp pain shooting through your arm.

You gasped, pulling back in shock. Celebrimbor turned sharply, concern flooding his face as he rushed to your side.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with urgency.

You looked down at your arm, a burn already reddening the skin. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

“We need to tend to this,” he said, his tone shifting from alarm to calm efficiency. The warmth of the forge suddenly felt overwhelming as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you away from the heat.

Celebrimbor led you into his study, away from the forge’s heat. He quickly gathered supplies, his hands moving with practiced ease. You watched him, your heart swelling with gratitude and a hint of worry.

“Does it hurt, my love?” he asked softly, kneeling beside you as he cleaned the burn with gentle precision.

“It’s not too bad,” you replied, though the pain tinged your voice.

His brow furrowed in concern. “I should have kept a closer eye on you.”

“It was my mistake, not yours,” you reassured him. “I wanted to impress you.”

As he applied a soothing salve, his touch was both gentle and firm. You felt the warmth of his presence ease the sting of the burn.

“I care for you deeply,” he said, placing a kiss over your bandaged burn. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

You smiled softly, feeling the weight of his words. “I know. I am okay, truly.”

“I am so sorry you got hurt. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you…” His voice trailed off.

You cupped his face in your hands. “This small burn is a price I would pay tenfold if it meant I got to spend time with you.”

You placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Trying to ease his guilt, you attempted to make him laugh. “Do all your smiths receive these same healing services from you?” You asked with a grin.

“Only the ones who share my bed,” he quipped back with a wink.

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine having Siren-like abilities and using them to tease Arthur Curry when he's trying to concentrate.

Arthur was growing annoyed with you, that much was obvious, but to you, it was like watching a child about to have a tantrum because he realized he’s losing a game.

He was on the land, trying to track some fishermen who had been fishing over Atlantis, and disrupting the sealife around it, which was a big no no. He hadn’t exactly invited you along - you had done that yourself - and was enjoying trying to tempt him back into the water. Your song was irresistable to most, but Arthur was mostly able to hold strong against it, due to his more advanced powers.

“O, he’s dead as a nail in the lamp room door, and we say so, and we know so, and he won’t come worrying us no more, O poor old man,” You sang, your siren’s voice making the old sea shanty sound hauntingly beautiful. You’d been trying to tell Arthur all this time, but he just hadn’t been listening to you. Until now, apparently.

“What did you say?” He asked.

“We’ll rop him down with a long long ro’, and we say so, and we know so, where the sharks have his body and the devil take his soul! O, poor old man.”

“They’ve been dealt with this entire time and you didn’t think to tell me?” He grumbled, taking off his sweater so that he could come back into the water, giving you a damn fine view.

“I did try to tell you,” You said, your voice as sweet as honeysuckle. “But you never listen to me.”

“For good reason, you might actually snare me one of these days,” He said with a chuckle, as he dove into the water, coming rather close to you.

“My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,” You sang, swimming in close to him, your hands touching his hairy cheeks. “There is nothing can console me - but my Jolly Arthur Bold.”

Requested by: Anonymous