#thranduil x elf!reader

[kat651]

How your elven lover kisses you/ shows affection 

ℒℯ𝑔ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓈：

in public he’s a model of maturity. He offers you his hand and holds the door. 

Will occasionally place a kiss on your hand or cheek when he can. 

Will put an arm around you if you’re feeling uncomfortable. 

When alone, he’s still gentle and caring. 

Kisses all over your face. 

Cuddles if you want them. 

Thranduil:

he doesn’t care if your in public, he is going to kiss you. 

Constantly pulling you to his chest. 

Would carry you all over if he could. 

Teasing you constantly. 

Alone he’s insane. You’d think he’s been touch starved.

Holds you in his lap

Neck bites 

Long passionate kisses

Falls asleep with you in his arms. 

Haldir:

isn’t big on PDA the farthest he’ll go is gently holding your hand, but only if you ask him to or he senses your uncomfortable. 

Uses a different tone with you than he does everyone else. 

Once it’s just the two of you, he’s a completely different person. 

Snuggles

Lets you play with his hair (always falls asleep if you do)

Butterfly kisses for days. 

Clings to you like a child. 

Elrond:

Will gently squeeze your shoulder as he walks past. 

Soft smiles when no one is looking. 

Not big on PDA. 

once it’s just the two of you, its gentle snuggles usually while he reads you a book or plays with your hair. 

Occasional kisses on the top of your head. 

Is a softy. 

Lindir:   

to the untrained eye, you and lindir just seem to be good friends but there are signs, though only the people he’s really close to can see the signs. 

He shows you subtle PDA by simple acts of service such as bringing you tea or grabbing something from another room that you may have forgotten. 

If you’re sitting at a table, he’ll occasionally take your hand when he knows no one can see it. 

Once alone however, if you aren’t each others center of attention he gets clingy. 

Pulls you away from what you’re doing so he can have quality time with you. 

Goes from soft and submissive in public to straddling you in the bed while placing kisses over your entire body. Is still gentle with you though. 

Then suddenly, he needs you to baby him and hold him tight. 

Loves to play lay with your hair. 

[fantasydreamland]

I think I might have a type…

[master-muffinn]

Lord of the rings X druid!reader headcanons

Legolas x reader, Thranduil x reader, Gandalf x reader (platonic), Merry/Pippin x reader (platonic), Elanor x reader.

Legolas

🧚‍♀️ Legolas is very curious and excited! He wants to know EVERYTHING about you and what you can do!

🧚‍♀️ But he finds the fact that you can turn to different kinds of animals the most interesting, and asks you a lot of questions about every animal you can transform too.

“Y/n what is that for an odd creature?”

“It’s a seastar”

“A STAR!??” 🤩

🧚‍♀️ Asks you if he can touch you in your animal forms. He lights up with happiness when you say ‘yes’ and touches you with utmost care and curiosity.

🧚‍♀️ Loves carrying you around in your smaller forms. If you turn to a snake he’ll put you around his neck like a necklace, a bird on his head or any other animal that can be on his shoulders.

🧚‍♀️ When the fellowship was in the snowy mountains and while the others had to walk in the deep snow, you were a little mouse in Legolas warm pocket. Not needing to do anything and Legolas didn’t need to worry about your safety. Win-win.

Thranduil

“I thought the druids died out for 4000 years ago, guess i was wrong”

🍷 Like Legolas he is very much interested but in a more calmer and quieter way. He also likes the animal shapes more. 

🍷 He likes when you turn to a little bird and sit on his shoulder whenever he goes to different places.

🍷 LOVES when he sits on his throne and you turn to a smaller animal and sit on his large hand and put your tiny paws on his fingers- the king has heart eyes. 😍 (yes you are his pet now lol) And he totally would feed you grapes too.

🍷 Other than that he also likes your plant and flower abilities. He has left the garden's beauty to you and it is shining more beautifully than it ever has since you came into his life- or perhaps it is just (amazing) you who has grown beautiful and colorful flowers in his heart❤.

🍷 And of course he will try out some of your abilities in the bedroom 😉

Gandalf

🧙‍♂️ Sorry Frodo, Sorry Bilbo, y/n is his number one favorite friend now!

🧙‍♂️ He is very fascinated over your elemental abilities. Wind, water, fire, plants/trees? “What can you do?” 

🧙‍♂️ Gandalf would try (hard) to not sound too eager and excited when you show him. But he can’t help but smile and laugh when you make a phoenix appear out of the fire.

🧙‍♂️ Might show you his ‘magic’ if you ask nicely and you will inspire one another. 

🧙‍♂️ If you have any difficulties with your training and elemental controlling he will give you advice and guidance with what he knows.

🧙‍♂️ Gandalf wouldn't mind if you join him for a while on his journey. He greatly enjoys your company.

Merry/Pippin

🤡 Oh no! OH NOOO! Gandalf will pray to god ... .PLEASE DON’T LET THE WORLD END!!

🤡 When they learn what you are, they will storm you with questions. They will drag you with them for every little prank and misery they are planning.

“Y/n, can you turn to bird and poop on someone's hea-” (pippin)

“No!”

“Can you poop in someones drin-”

“No!”

“Can you-”

“ENOUGH WITH THESE POOP REQUESTS!!!!”

🤡 If you meet on the ring quest, they will ask you to turn to a larger and fluffy animal, like a bear so they can sleep with (on) you on cold nights (like the bear in jungle book? Yes!) Boromir will get jealous because you stole his children. 😢

Elanor Brandyfoot

🐌 The others don't trust you and don't want you around until you show them how quickly you can turn seeds to flowers.

🐌 Elanor will try to calm them down and talk to them so they don’t ‘use’ you for their ‘food greed’.

🐌 You two will have a contest of who is quickest to fill a bucket with berries, buuut of course Elanor wins. 

“Looks like ya powers weren't able to outmatch me!” 

🐌 She loves to see your abilities and is very happy that others like you too and have accepted you to the group, but she gets a little jealous when you get too much attention because she wants to be alone with you too! 

🐌 She loves the evenings when things have been calming down and laying under the stars with her head on your (larger) animal form. Petting you is very calming for her and she mostly falls asleep like that with you. 

Thank you for reading! I hope you like it! 💖

Post made by me, @master-muffinn

[frost-queen]

Lady of Mirkwood | (Reader x Thranduil)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22@elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers @merlieve,  @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

| Meeting Thranduil

You met Thranduil when the Third age progressed. It was when the Necromancer unknown then but known as Sauron later on claimed the abandoned fortress of Amon Lanc to make it into Dol Guldur. Sauron infected the woods with spiders and orcs. The spiders and the orcs expended their reach claiming more and more for them. Infecting the very nature with their filth and death.

All the elves were forced to leave the woods. Those who fought back were brought down. Countless of lost elves filled the sickening woods. You were amongst some elves that were fleeing. The orcs had increased their stench to the part of the woods where you lived. With a few douzen you were. Fleeing for your lives as the orcs hunted you down. The woods had grown iller. Spider cobs were not too much yet in these parts. But a few spiders having expended their webs out to your lands.

Some elves wanted to stay and fight. They barely lasted long as the pack of orcs were too many. Sweeping them down in a matter of seconds. The others fled as fast as they could. Hatred, anger and sorrow grieving your hearts. You were running trying to stay out of the orcs clutches. The orcs attack made you stumble, dropping to the ground. Surrounded by death and darkness. You thought it was over. You thought you were never going to see the undying lands, but then a bright light appeared between the trees. The illumination blinded the orcs sending them back a bit. The light faded as you could see a small group of elves charge for battle. Lead by a High elf.

The orcs never stood a chance. The High elf approached you, helping you up your feet. The moment his eyes met with his, he was struck. Gasping breathlessly at your grace and beauty. The woods no longer having a place for you, he took you in. Thranduil his name was. King of the woodland realm.

| Life at the woodland realm

Thranduil was smitten with you. For the first time in many ages, the so cocky king found beauty in another. He threated you like a guest with the highest honor. Quarters close to his. Thranduil would host parties just to have an excuse to dance with you. He never let any other elf near you. He wanted you for himself. You sometimes dared to tease Thranduil by speaking to other elves, just to see his reaction. You loved how easily jealous he was. He would come over, pull you gently behind him while urging them in a polite way to leave. Sometimes he would lay his robe over your shoulder to hint to others that you were his.

Underneath the moonlight on a summer's day was when you had your first kiss with Thranduil. Forever giving yourself to one another. He married you a month later never wanted to be parted from you ever again. You became queen of the woodland realm. All the elves present adored you for your righteousness and kind heart. Whenever Thranduil dared to lose his temper, you were there to calm him down. Sometimes you would come along with Thranduil and his army in an attempt to reclaim your woods. When Thranduil saw his numbers dim and almost losing you in a battle, he gave up. Not wanting to see his people be slaughtered or see you in danger. For he could not afford to lose you, his brightest star.

| Legolas

Legolas was born with grace. You loved every little detail of him. Thranduil would be careful at first. For he feared to hold such a fragile creature. He feared he might harm it in any way. You would show him he could do no harm. Taking his hand and bringing it up to Legolas for him to touch. His fingers would brush against his cheek making Legolas flutter a laugh. On that Thranduil was sold. Taking his son in his arms and care deeply for him.

As Legolas grew older, Thranduil insisted he had his features from you. Everything about Legolas reminded him of you. With the coming of Legolas was Thranduil more careful. You were no longer aloud out of the woodland realm. Not wanting anything to happen to you or Legolas. You had to admit it felt a bit lonely being unable to see the old woods. Your home that you missed dearly. With each year it grew colder and deader. Plagued by orcs and spiders. Since you had no where else to go, you focused more on Legolas. Teaching him how to defend himself. It was you who introduced Legolas to the bow and arrow. When Legolas was old enough to have his own bow, he would name it after you.

———————————————

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[lixiepeach]

Fascination

Summary: It’s not love, he muses as he stares down at you. He could never bind himself to such a temporary thing as yourself. Lust, perhaps curiosity, fascination even, that’s brought him to desire you in such a way, that’s entangled you both. He allows himself a moment of tenderness as he brushes the hair stuck to your forehead, his lips pressing softly against yours. You lean into him, fingers brushing the tip of his ear as you trail your hands through his hair. 

Pairing: Thranduil x human!reader

Warnings: NSFW, explicit smut, p in v sex, fingering, sort of rough sex, unprotected sex (because of elf magic), no aftercare, interspecies relationship, reader is more of a paramour than anything, Thrandy is a bit obsessed, sort of a toxic relationship depending on how you look at it, it’s not love it’s lust, Thrandy is also a bit egotistical and elitist but what do we expect? 

A/N: Thought up this one a while ago whilst in the middle of some thots and decided to just write it since it wouldn't leave me alone. Not my first time writing for LOTR, but it's been quite a while. Might consider turning it into a series if there's enough interest...Anyway, I hope there's enough of a fandom left to enjoy it and that I'm not screaming into a void right now.

MASTERLIST

His eyes trace your form as you lay sprawled in the grass, asleep and entirely unaware. It speaks volumes of your trust, the ease with which you simply exist in his world as you nap in the warm afternoon sun. It’s amusing to him the way you lay there, one arm over your head, the other draped across your stomach, chest rising and falling slowly and evenly as your mind takes you far off into your dreams. 

His eyes trace your face, features he’s well acquainted with after hours upon hours of studying them. He connects the colored dots on your skin with his eyes, his gaze following the slope of your nose, the softness of your brow in your relaxed state. His fingers twitch at his side, longing to brush across the warmth of your skin but he stays his hand in fear he might disturb you. He’s not ready for you to be awake yet. 

He would gladly stare at you all day, his little mortal. 

It’s been a long time since he’s felt desire churning in his stomach, the twisting deep within as he gazes at another. Yet, here he finds himself feeling that warmth in his stomach as he gazes at a simple mortal woman. He had tried to brush it off as simply a fickle thing, many ages of loneliness finally beginning to wear upon him. It wasn’t as if he was without offers. Many brave elleths had approached him, brazenly offering their company in hopes of earning his affections, and even perhaps winning his heart. He had always turned them away, first in pain then in spite. He had ignored the disappointment and shame as he glanced over them, always looking through them, never quite seeing them. 

Then you arrived. 

It wasn’t often that the race of men graced his halls. He so rarely interacted with men, preferring to send envoys on his behalf the rare chance it happened. You had come not by choice, instead brought in on the brink of death after being rescued by his guards from a nest of spiders. Sick with poison from a bite, you had been in a terrible state upon your arrival, but had made a quick recovery thanks to the talent of his healers. 

He’s not sure what it was about you that piqued his interest. You were no one of any sort of importance. A simple human from one of the woodsman villages on the borders of the forest, a mere mortal woman that would have lived and died in a blink of his eye had you not by chance strayed from your path and fallen into the traps of the foul nuisance that was the spiders. Yet as you stood there, nervous before him as you thanked him, offering your life in debt for your rescue, he couldn’t help but stare. He wasn’t looking through you as he so often did others, no, he was seeing you. 

Perhaps it was because you saw him. Not the crown, not his status, not the promise of what he could give or the things he had the power to do. You were staring at him. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought perhaps you could see past the carefully crafted illusion and straight into his very being. 

That had been weeks ago, and still you linger in his halls at his insistence. 

You’ve offered no complaint, brought up no desire to return to your life in your village. There has been no longing in your gaze for your home, no far off look as you thought of your little house where you dwelled alone. He had felt the strength in your hands, the calluses on your fingers that spoke of a life of hard work, of fending for yourself. His fingers often traced the marks on your skin, remnants from accidents and close calls. He’s never bared his own scars to you, and he likely never will. 

He continues to stare at you as you sleep, your form illuminated by the golden light of the sun. He wouldn’t go so far as to call you ethereal in its light. You lacked the luminance of elves, though you seemed to glow in a different way. There was something so tangible about you, the life that was almost teeming from you as you smiled, the pure joy in your laughter, the profoundness of your sympathy, the intensity of your stare. You carried the weight of your emotions so plainly, though perhaps that was what it meant to be mortal. The understanding that you had so little time, that your life would end eventually. 

He has lived ages before you, and he will live ages after you. 

He can no longer ignore the churning in his stomach, the twitching of his fingers, the desire burning hot within him. His fingers trail along the line of your jaw, ghosting down the side of your neck that’s bared to him as your head is turned just slightly to the side. The sun has warmed you, the heat pulsing beneath his fingers. He takes in the texture of your skin, soft for a mortal but not quite as smooth as an elf’s. The corner of his lips lifts upward as goosebumps form on your skin, his eyes drawn down to your chest as his fingers trace your collarbones. You shift in your sleep, his hand pausing until you settle again. 

He allows his fingers to follow the neckline of your dress, the fine silk draped across your body in a way that accentuates your curves deliciously. You’re not built like an elf, no long lines and hard edges. You’re all soft curves and rounded edges plainly evidenced by the way the silk clings to your body even as you lay completely relaxed. 

You shift once more as his fingers brush the tops of your breasts, your mind beginning to wake. He watches the way your nipples pebble as he teases the sensitive skin of your dress, pressing against the thin fabric keeping them hidden. He loves how sensitive and reactive you are to him, your lips parting in a gasp as he thumbs over one of your hard nipples. 

Your eyes are glazed with sleep still as they flutter open, squinting in the sunlight. Your movements are sluggish as you shift below him, stretching your arms over your head. You remind him a bit of a cat as you stretch, letting out a quiet groan. 

He lets his hand slide up your chest to your neck, his thumb brushing the line of your throat. “Good afternoon, little one.” 

“I fell asleep.” You murmur, awareness beginning to come back to you as you stare up at him. 

A smile tugs at his lips, the fondness that he felt for you rising above the desire for a moment. “You did. Quite quickly, I might add.” He says. You have a habit of dozing easily, needing far more sleep than an elf. “Perhaps I am to blame in part for keeping you up so late into the night.” He teases, heat blooming beneath his fingers on your skin. 

You have the gaul to look bashful under his gaze, as if you had not captured him under your spell. You make him feel powerful as he looms over you, raw energy pulsing through him like lightning at the thought of how vulnerable you are, how vulnerable he is. How easily you had captured him, how easily life had begun to flow through him again at the sight of you. His blood runs hot, fingers trembling at the thought of how easily you could end him. 

One day you will. 

He forces the thought from his mind, pressing his thumb against your lips. You press a soft kiss to his skin, your gaze meeting his. You already know what he wants, why he pulled you from your blissful sleep. Your body shifts as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You still taste of the wine served at lunch, sweet and earthy with a hint of something else, something that was just simply...you. 

His hold on your neck tightens just slightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh. You gasp quietly against his lips, his head tilting to take advantage of your reaction. His tongue invades your mouth, tangling with your own. You sigh into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair. It’s bold, but he allows it, far too focused on his attempt to devour you with his lips. 

He shifts his body over yours, your knees parting for him like your body was welcoming his proximity. You are as your hands slip through his hair, silky strands sliding through your fingers. It’s his turn to gasp into your mouth as your fingertips brush the sensitive tips of his ears. The sensation shoots straight down his spine, his back arching into you. He pulls away from your kiss-plump lips, mischief shining in your eyes as you stare up at him. Your fingers flick the tips of his ears again, his eyes fluttering as a groan is pulled from his lips. 

“Naughty little thing,” He groans, leaning down to nip playfully at your bottom lip. 

Your giggle turns into a sigh as his lips abandon yours to taste your skin, his hand slipping under the skirt of your dress. He can smell your arousal, the thick, heady scent corrupting the fresh air of the gardens. He could get lost in the scent, bury his face in it until it suffocates him. He has lost himself in the scent and taste of you, many surfaces having been defiled by his need. He fights the urge to shove his face beneath your skirts and tease you with his tongue until you’re nearly unconscious. 

No, he needs something else from you today. 

His hand trails up your leg, pushing your skirts up with it. His fingers close around your thigh, sinking into the flesh. You let out a quiet sound as he digs his fingers into you, hard enough he knows you’ll bruise. He loves how easy it is to mark you, and he loves how long those marks linger on your skin. His rings bite into the sensitive flesh, but you offer no complaint. Instead your head drops back, bearing your throat to him. He bites at the skin of your throat, his tongue laving across the stinging marks his teeth leave behind. 

You’re practically boneless under him and he has yet to touch you, your hands rumbling the fabric of his shirt as you hold on to him for dear life. He often wonders what it feels like to you, if his touch electrifies you as much as your touch electrifies him. You’ve never known the touch of a mortal man, you had confessed to him, though it wasn’t due to a lack of suitors. 

You had never explained why, though, you had refused the many offers of eligible men over the years. Perhaps it was for the same reasons he refused the willing elleths who propositioned him. 

Or, perhaps deep down you knew no mortal man would ever be enough. 

He draws himself from you to sit up on his knees, his hands pushing the fabric of your skirt the rest of the way up until it’s pooled around your waist. You’re bare beneath the dress, damp folds on display for him as he takes you in. You are beautiful in the way mortals are, like flowers would be to trees. You’re especially beautiful like this, laid out beneath him shameless and needy. You had been shy at first to his advances, but now you served him without question, without hesitation. 

How eager you were to serve your king. 

His hand trails from your hip to your stomach, feeling the hitch in your breath as he dips his fingers lower through rough curls before he finds exactly what he needs. Your lips part in a gasp as he brushes your pearl, the scent of your arousal strengthening as he begins to touch you. His thumb brushes over the sensitive bud, watching your face as your eyes get heavy and dark with need. He knows exactly how to play you, exactly how to make you tremble in his arms. 

He’ll take his time with you later. Right now, he needs his own release. 

You let out a quiet sound as two of his fingers sink into your heat, your body opening up to him. Much time he has spent teaching your body to open to him, to accept him, to be ready for him. As much as he enjoyed the roughness, seeing just how far he could push your little mortal body, as much as he enjoyed taking out his anger and his frustrations on your body, he never wished to hurt you. Many hours had been spent with his hand between your legs, bringing you to the edge but never quite letting you peak. 

Not until he was satisfied. 

His hand presses into your stomach, holding your hips still as he languidly pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your walls are slick with arousal, gripping him like a vice. His fingers are thick and long, reaching deep inside you, far deeper than you could ever bring your own fingers to. You had tried, you had shown him how you pleased yourself. He wondered how often you had done it in his Halls, how often he had been the one in your thoughts as you brought yourself to your release with your fingers. 

He’s forbidden it now, you touching yourself, bringing yourself pleasure. That was his job. It would be only his fingers that you knew, that would bring you to the point of release now. Now matter how dripping with need you are, you’re his. His to pleasure, his to take, his to find release with. 

Sometimes he’s not quite sure who is truly in charge. If he commands your body and your mind, or if he’s the one wrapped around your little finger. 

You buck against his hand as he curls his fingers, drawing a quiet moan from your lips. There’s no need for silence out here. You’re deep enough in the gardens the guards won’t be able to see anything, and they know by now to close their ears against what their king does in his private moments. 

“Please, please My King.” You beg, oh so sweetly. 

He stares at you, the sweat beading on your brow, your swollen lips parted as your chest heaves for breath. Your thighs are trembling, hands twisting in the grass beside you. You’re dripping onto his hand, the wet squelch of his fingers like music to his ears. 

“Tell me what you need, little one.” He says, the deep timbre of his voice edged with a needy rasp. He’s hard, nearly throbbing beneath the constraints of his pants. He’s far more patient with his own pleasure. He knows it’s coming, he knows you’ll let him take what he needs. 

“I-I need...” You stammer, eyes rolling in pleasure as he curls his fingers. A whine leaves your lips as he drags his fingers across that spongy spot inside you. “I-I need you. Please, My King.” 

He hums appreciatively at your begging, your desperation. You truly are desperate, he can feel it in the fluttering of your walls around his fingers. He’s not done with you yet, though. His lips lift up in a smirk as he watches you, your gaze locked on his. “Am I not giving myself to you? Are my fingers not enough for you?” 

“No!” You whine, thighs trying to close around him as you get closer and closer to release. “I-I need...I want to feel you!” You cry out, greedy in your desperation. “I want you inside me!” 

He basks in your begging, your neediness, your shamelessness. He was going to give it to you anyway, and you know this, but you also know he wants to hear you, to see you beneath him, begging him desperately. 

He truly wants to believe he is in control. 

He pulls his fingers from your folds, lifting them to his lips. You let out a quiet whimper as his tongue darts out, licking your juices from them. You’re musky and almost tangy on his tongue, not unlike a rich wine. He wants to savor you like a wine, but his own neediness is beginning to itch in the back of his mind. He’s beginning to feel his own desperation, his own desire to sink into your warmth and stay there for the rest of eternity. 

He releases you enough to free himself from the constraints of his pants, his hand wrapping around his thick length. You tilt your head so you can see him, eyes focused on him as he pumps his length in his hand. Your legs fall open, completely relaxed as you bare your weeping folds to him. He has the desire to praise you, but he holds his tongue. He does not wish to go to that place right now. 

Right now he needs release, the sweet release only your body can give him. 

You welcome him as he sinks into your body, arms wrapping around him as he presses himself against you. You relax yourself around him as he sinks into your warmth, the wide head of his length spearing you open. You offer no complaint if it’s uncomfortable, only clinging to his tunic as he lets himself rest over you for a moment. Your legs squeeze around his waist as if you’re trying to draw him deeper into you, as if you might fuse his body into yours. 

He allows a moment of tenderness as he kisses you, tasting your lips again. You hum into his mouth, walls squeezing around him as if telling him you’re ready, you’re waiting. 

You are waiting for him. 

He draws his hips back, slow and steady as if he was unsheathing a blade, letting you feel every inch of him as he withdraws from your walls to just the tip of his length. You let out a cry as he presses back into you, reaching as deep as he can, until your hips are flush with his. You cling to him as he sets his pace, rocking into you steadily. There will be grass stains on your dress, but that won’t matter. You’ll change before dinner, wearing something more extravagant as you dined with your king. 

Not that you’ll be wearing whatever dress you choose very long. He has every intention of taking you to his chambers tonight and picking you apart piece by piece until you are nothing more than a whining, writhing mess on his bed. Then he will take you apart further until your eyes flutter and your breathing shudders and you dangle over the precipice of unconsciousness as he brings you more pleasure than you ever thought you could feel at once. 

That is for later, though. 

Right now, he needs to ease the aching desire deep within him, the beast that you reawoke within him. He keeps his pace steady, sharpening the snap of his hips into you. You’re whining and moaning against him, hands clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you on this plane of existence. His blood burns hot within him at the thought of being needed, of being desired so carnally. 

You’re growing close to your release, your thighs trembling around his hips. Your cries are loud in the gardens, lost in your pleasure as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. As much as he’s fueled by his own need for release, he wants you to fall over the edge first. He wants to see you lost in your pleasure, even if just for a moment. 

He pulls back enough to stare at your face, eyes closed in pleasure, lips parted as you moan. His hand grips the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes are dazed with pleasure, glossy and blown with lust. His fingers dig into your skin, your pulse thrumming under his thumb. Your skin is hot, slicked with sweat from the exertion. He fights the urge to taste it, to lick at the saltiness of your skin, to taste you on his tongue. 

Later, he reminds himself. 

“Let go.” He grunts, his breath fanning your face. “Let me feel you.” 

Your eyes roll back as if he has that much command of your body, your legs tightening around him as you reach your peak. Your walls flutter, tightening and releasing around him, the mechanics of nature to draw him to his own release. 

He lets himself go, burying his face in your throat as he spills into you. His body trembles with yours, length twitching as he fills you with his release. For a moment, just a fraction for a second he imagines it, his seed taking root, a half-elven child that takes after you. He wrenches the thought from his mind as if it’s a burning ember, refusing to allow such a daydream to take over his mind. 

He pushes himself up to his elbows, staring down at you. His hair curtains around you, soft locks caressing your skin. You're breathing heavily, chest still heaving beneath him. Your eyes are lidded, face nearly as relaxed as it had been when you were sleeping. Your skin is still slicked with sweat, strands of your own hair sticking to your skin. You look ruined and he has barely begun. 

You look beautiful. 

It’s not love, he muses as he stares down at you. He could never bind himself to such a temporary thing as yourself. Lust, perhaps curiosity, fascination even, that’s brought him to desire you in such a way, that’s entangled you both. He allows himself a moment of tenderness as he brushes the hair stuck to your forehead, his lips pressing softly against yours. You lean into him, fingers brushing the tip of his ear as you trail your hands through his hair. 

Fascination, that’s all it is, he tells himself as another shiver runs down his spine. 

(I know I had a taglist a long time ago but it's been so long since I've written anything for this blog I'm not even sure if there's anyone on it anymore. I'm willing to put one together though if there's interest...)

[shirefantasies]

I'm doing pretty good! Ty for asking

I wanted to request Lindir (and anyone else you might want to do) with a reader that loves playing with/braiding his hair? A very simple request but I find it adorable

That does sound quite sweet 😌 I decided to do this with all the major elves because we love elf fluff in this house 💖

Elves + Braiding

Lindir

✧ He is surprised the first time you idly take strands of his long brown hair in your hands, giving a look of polite surprise as he awaits your next action.

✧ Then you pull back the sides of his hair, braiding them at the back of his head, and he would be lying if he said it felt anything but satisfying, both having his face freed from the strands and also your hands delicately working their magic upon his hair.

✧ Too shy to request it, Lindir simply sits by your side, hoping the whim takes you again. Perhaps he will practice a song, sitting at his harp or holding a smaller instrument and feeling the small smile creep onto his lips when your fingers comb through his hair again.

✧ When he catches you in a moment of stress his subconscious works faster than his mind; without thinking he’s running hands through your hair, sliding the cool skin soothingly over your scalp.

✧ He turns red each time, but Lindir’s absolute favorite is when you rest your gorgeous head upon his shoulder. Gently he strokes your hair before ever-so-slightly resting his head atop yours.

Thranduil

✧ Fixes you with a look of surprise when you subconsciously reach for his long golden locks, but after removing a leaf from them your fingers twirl the ends of his tresses and he smiles fondly.

✧ Shakes his head a bit at you as you play with his hair, weaving new strands together. The loops you make may not be as intricate as others he has seen, but they are sturdy.

✧ From then on Thranduil dubs you talented, encouraging you to try more techniques, be they braiding or weaving. At first you can hardly help questioning if he sees your intent…

✧ …before you realize he is the only one you’re allowed to practice on. He is calling on you, plain and simple.

✧ You try to keep this out of your head, but the way the back of his hand traces your cheekbones as he sits you down makes that harder and harder…

Arwen

✧ You relax her in a way few else do, the ease you bring leading her to seek you out again and again.

✧ She knows how you enjoy what you do and she wants to pay it back, too. “Come, let us make our braids!” And just like that, your habit has become ours.

✧ She loves the feel of your hair, asking permission of course the first few times she touches it, but soon it seems even when you’re just sitting together someone is caressing the other’s hair.

✧ Sometimes when you’re feeling especially merry, you’ll playfully swat her with her own little ponytails. It always gets one of those rare laughs out of her.

✧ Cue Arwen wrapping her arms around your shoulders, forcing you to drop her hair as she grapples you (lovingly).

Elrond

✧ His eyes track yours one day, catching the way they follow the silky length of his hair. One day you venture sweeping some off his shoulder, growing bolder at Elrond’s soft smile.

✧ Your hands shake at first, but he nods and smiles reassuringly as you begin your weaving work. His hair is smooth, needing little to nothing, so instead you craft a kind of crown for him braided about his head.

✧ You tell him as much as you reveal your work, shocked at the way his expression has melted into something far, far softer.

✧ “Allow me to return the favor,” he says, hands sliding temptingly over your shoulders as he rotates you- and who are you to say no?

✧ “Though I do not deserve a crown,” you remind him. “You do not see things as I do, then.”

Legolas

✧ You’d never touch his hair without asking, unsure how Legolas would react until you shyly offer to braid it freshly back for him.

✧ He agrees with one of the smiles that has your heart leaping, encouraging you with a gentle nod as you take a seat behind him and begin your work. From the moments your hands brush his back, you can feel Legolas relaxing as you weave his golden hair.

✧ From then on he goes to you when he wants it fixed, teasingly asking if you might like to braid his hair again.

✧ It’s probably one of the most romantic things to happen to you the day Legolas sits you down, saying it’s his turn to take care of your hair.

✧ You two both end up in this sort of symbiosis of doing each other’s hair, barely ever touching your own.

Haldir

✧ Starts a bit the first time your hands comb his hair, but the butterflies he’s feeling may become evident in the way Haldir’s eyes fix you.

✧ You can feel him lean into your touch, the gentle motion of your fingers soothing him. Rare are the moments in which Haldir gives in to simple breath, release of all the burdens that he holds, and yet it is clear he craves it.

✧ "Why," he asks as you release his locks, letting them flow down his shoulders, "are you doing this?" "Do you really not know?" You simply ask back, caresses moving from the base of his neck to the sides of his face as you turn him your way.

✧ Your habit leads to the first of many kisses shared with Haldir, often stolen beneath the swaying branches of some faraway tree.

✧ Playing with your hair is not his habit, but running his hands wildly through it as your lips embrace is.

Galadriel

✧Amusement dances in her blue eyes as you reach up and comb her golden waves through your hands.

✧ “I’m sorry,” you sheepishly apologize, “may I?” “Of course,” she answers simply and gives a little nod as you step closer again.

✧ Galadriel turns to fix her enchanting gaze upon you as you work, smile too knowing not to bring warmth to your face and a shake to your fingers.

✧ Since that day, she combs her fingers through your hair as she passes by you, her fingers sometimes trailing down to the side of your cheek.

✧ You can feel her eyes upon you as far as her watch can reach, simultaneously bringing safe warmth shining through your chest and a shiver down your spine.

[cambion-companion]

Hugging the Elves (blorbos)

Elrond ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Elrond is a healer, of both body and heart. His home of Rivendell is where those blessed enough to gain entry find refuge for their spirit. Elrond would hug like a father comforting his child, he would wrap you into a secure embrace. He smells like familiar spices and fresh warm cloth as you bury your head against his shoulder. The long sleeves of his robes wrap around your body and offer solace under their weight. He will smile down at you gently, a fond crinkling around his eyes full of wisdom and starlight.

Glorfindel

Sunshine incarnate, Glorfindel's hugs are enthusiastic and don't be surprised if he lifts you into his arms and twirls you around once or twice, especially if he has been on errantry and not seen you for a while. His long golden hair would get in both your faces and he would laugh, bell-like, as he gently brushes it away. He smells of a fresh summer breeze carrying the light scents of flowers and evergreen trees as you press your cheek to his chest. I also see him as being fond of taking your face in his hands, enjoying looking into your eyes and reading your emotions there. When you are in need of comfort be assured Glorfindel will always be ready to offer you a warm embrace as you bask in his glowing presence. His very touch is enough to chase away any creeping darkness from your mind. (yes I am madly in love with him can you not tell)

Arwen

Arwen doesn't hug very many people, so when she opens her arms to you it is a gift indeed. She smells of lilac and midsummer nights spent by the lake under the stars. Her hair is as soft as goose-down and the gossamer of her sleeves slips between your fingers. She holds the back of your head lightly as you lean against her, closing your eyes and enjoying the feel of her chin tucked against your head. Arwen will also peer into your eyes, as they are windows to your soul, and give you a soft understanding smile before engaging you in light conversation and laughter.

Thranduil

(as a brief aside, I do not at all like the characterization of Thranduil in the movies as they turned him into King Thingol of Doriath who is much different in temperament. thus, this will be based on his book self)

Thranduil is regal and guarded, yet he has a warmth about him you have grown accustomed to receiving from the Elves. Like Arwen he does not embrace others readily, but will receive your affection with a broad smile and happy chuckle. His hands placed securely on your upper back as you lean against him, breathing in his scent of juniper berries and pine. This hug will be brief but meaningful and leave you feeling elated and refreshed. He will then invite you to dine with them and perhaps accompany his folk into the forest to dance and frolic to the sound of harpists and singing.

Legolas

Legolas is full of laughter and wit and will accept your hug with joy, squeezing you tight against him as he ruffles your hair about in an affectionate manner. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale the smell of leather and woodsmoke. He will hold you against him for as long as you wish, even rocking you side to side if you remain in his arms for long. When you do pull away Legolas will grasp your forearms and beam at you, making a witty comment, his countenance brightening when you laugh.

Finrod

(Yes, I have to include this golden boy)

The first among Elves to befriend humans, even the first to see them, Finrod has a special place in his heart for his mortal friends. He loves giving and receiving hugs and will wrap you in his arms readily and with reverence. His golden hair tickles your face and he laughs, looking down at you as you scrunch your nose at the sensation. Finrod smells of the ocean winds that form the waves and the carpet of moss that covers forest floors. He is Valinor mixed with Middle Earth, belonging to both and yet neither. There is a sadness to his grip as he brushes a stray hair from your face after you pull away. But as ever with his kin the sadness in his eyes swiftly turns over to mirth and he takes your hand before pulling you along with him to your next adventure.

let me know who else I should write these for!

[frightenednymphthigh]

Thranduil x dark elv!reader

Dark elves from time immemorial have become for other elves something like horror heroes with whom you could scare naughty children. They are spoken of as vile and malevolent creatures who sneak around in the dark, leading lives full of envy and hatred. These stories really scared the children, and growing up, they told them to their children. Probably the fault of the reclusive lifestyle of the dark elves, their mysterious and difficult to understand other races culture. Excerpt from the history of Middle-earth (Q. Endor) from an unknown author

The dark elves to which the reader belongs inhabit vast underground cities. They are known for their skilled skills in magic and blacksmithing. They create magnificent armor and weapons that could compete in quality with the creations of the dwarves.

Dark elves worship many gods, often women who stand at the head of the settlement bring sacrifices to the gods to protect the elves from impending misfortunes. Once, during such a rite, the priestess unexpectedly predicted. Darkness will soon descend on Middle-earth and enemies will rally against a common danger.

The dark elves murmurar and have the reader was given an important mission to convey the news of danger to the inhabitants of Middle-earth. The reader, in turn, is an elf greedy for knowledge of the outside world, who saw in his mission not only danger, but the opportunity to see what had been hidden from his eyes for so long.

On his journey, the reader encounters Tranduil - the king of the Forest Elves of Mirkwood and between them there is a connection that the dark elf cannot explain to himself.

[weministertomonsters]

Imagine This #9 - Elf

After the day you took an arrow for the Fae Commander, he kept you by his side, barely letting you out of his sight. He was angry when you finally woke up from the poison fever.

"I promised to deliver you safely back into your father's hands," he had said, pacing like a wild cat in the healer's tent. "How could you be so foolish?"

After the verbal lashing, he strode away in a flurry of robes and golden hair, barking orders to his men. Now that you were well, by first daylight the camp would be disbanded and the journey continued. The healer who was packing her things away winked at you.

"He doesn't want to show his relief, but he watched over you all night."

You wouldn't have believed her if you hadn't been aware of him at intervals amid your feverish dreams. He had brought you medicinal teas- administered patiently by the spoonful- and stroked your hair and sang to you in Elvish.

"I'm sorry to bring you on this wretched journey," he'd murmured as the cold poison rattled in your bones and he gently held you down, keeping you warm with his body heat.

He had been there for you. He had cared. Now feeling much better, you huddle in your coat and tiptoe over to his tent. Despite the late hour he's still awake, leaning over a map. You reach out and touch his shoulder.

"What is it?" He looks up.

"Thank you."

"Do not mention it," he replies, looking away.

You begin to comb your fingers through his hair, marveling at how silky it is. You'd heard that touching an elf's hair is considered intimate. The sharp breath he takes confirms this but he doesn't ask you to stop.

"Why don't you braid your hair?" You ask. "It gets in the way sometimes."

"I was promised to the battlefield from a young age. A warrior does not need to learn how to braid hair," he replies tersely.

"Isn't this a part of courtship? Correct me if I'm wrong." You say as you skillfully braid his hair.

"Yes. But a warrior-"

"Is promised to the battlefield, yes, you keep reminding me. Don't worry, I'm not trying to court you."

"Ah." His shoulders don't relax so much as they droop.

You tuck the smaller braids behind his pointy ears. "There you go."

He's doing that thing where he stares at you with furrowed eyebrows like you're the last puzzle piece that doesn't fit.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Goodnight." You leave him to his planning and head to your own tent.

The next morning he has picked the braids apart, probably because it'll be too obvious who did them. His hair is slightly wavy now, and you can't help but laugh quietly when you see that.

[theaskywalker]

Imagine being an Elven warrior aiding Thorin's company and Thranduil taking an interest in you

Masterlist

[elfy-elf-imagines]

— In the Fields of Poppy | Thranduil *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff and Angst (mentions of death and the aftermath of war)

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies, you have a chance encounter with the King.

▹ Notes: This is unedited because we die as men! Also because I'm sleep deprived rn. Let me know what you thought!

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

The carnage had been terrible; the aftermath of the battle more brutal than any recount would ever fully capture. 

Broken stained glass mosaics formed with blood from all sides of the battle glistened in the sun. There was a heavy fog that clung to the ground, the wails of survivors finding the corpses of their loved ones. You couldn’t focus on it, blocking out as much of the noise as possible. Later you would feel the weight of the lives lost, you were certain, but for now, there was work to be done. 

You kneeled before the squirming body of a dwarven soldier, too delirious off his own pain to scorn the healing of an elvish maid. There was a cut on his leg that was bleeding profusely, his skin showing the beginning signs of infection from the poison the orcs used. He was muttering in Khuzdul, his eyes staring blankly at the sky. His eyes were locked on the sun, and if there weren’t other grievous injuries taking priority, you would’ve reminded him to not stare at the sun. But who cares for blindness if you’re already dead?

With ghost-like touches and careful concentration, you placed the healing salve on his leg, cleaning the wound as best you could beforehand. He hissed in pain from the contact, his eyes no longer looking at the sun but at you. He continued to speak in Khuzdul, this time at you, with spite and pain written on his face. You weren’t concerned, continuing to work as you numbed yourself to your surroundings. 

A group of elven soldiers marched past you, carrying the body of their fallen comrade, faces stricken with grief. Your eyes darted away from the sight and returned your attention to carefully wrapping your patient’s leg with bandages. 

“I don’t have anything for the pain, I’m afraid,” you said to him, briefly meeting his eyes that went back to looking at the sun. He muttered incoherently, and while he spoke Common this time, his words were lost on you. 

Tying the final bandage, you then began the same work on the rest of his wounds. More wails and more dead bodies carried from the battlefield, but you blocked it all out. There was no time to be swallowed in the suffering. Once all his wounds had been tended to and your dress was drenched in the blood of another patient, you stood from the ground. A dwarven soldier rushed forward to bring his comrade to the tents where the injured were resting. Words of thanks fell from his mouth, but you had already turned away, moving towards the next person. 

This time it was an elf, so young he couldn’t be more than a century old. Old enough to serve in the guard but too young to die; it made you sick to your stomach. There was a gash near his neck, the veins around it turning black. The poison had already gotten into his system; it was only a matter of time before it took him. Yet you kneeled beside him and gently placed his head in your lap as you began cleaning the wound. 

Unlike the dwarf from before, his eyes met yours, a grin on his lips. It looked out of place on his face, contorted into pain. He spoke softly in elvish, reciting an old song that mothers usually sang to their children when putting them to bed. As the cold salve touched his neck, he froze up, twitching slightly at the sensation.

Silence enveloped the two of you, he no longer sang, yet his eyes stayed on you. A stray piece of hair had fallen from your messy braid, the elf reaching up and grabbing it. He held it between his fingers, mouth parted and eyes a thousand miles away. 

“Naneth--” he trailed off, muttering more incoherent words. You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to continue working as a spark of pain reactivated your cold heart. He called you mother; the poison must’ve already reached his head, making him see things that weren’t there. 

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as you looked away to reach into your healer’s kit. He must’ve been so terrified as death came closer, seeking comfort in a mother that wasn’t even here. You didn’t have the heart to correct him. Let the boy have a small bit of comfort. 

With a strip of bandage in your hand, when your eyes went back to his body, his eyes were shut, and his breathing ceased. Dead. 

Your hand fell limp at your side, eyes unmoving from his face. He looked at peace, expression no longer twisted in pain. A shuttered breath escaped your mouth, the chill in the air allowing you to see it blow away. You stood with shaky legs and trembling hands, two soldiers approaching to take his body away.

You’d been a healer for as long as you could remember, training for this since you were a little elfling running wild. Time allowed you to become numb to tragedy, keeping a clear head to do what needed to be done. But the elven boy’s death managed to stab a needle right through your heart. He was so young and vibrant, his potential severed by senseless war. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, like the ashes of the bodies the humans were burning. 

The mud squashed beneath your feet, eyes unseeing. You were a ghost on the battlefield, blood-stained dress blowing in the wind. How did the other healers seem so emotionless? Was the bite of death something that lessened the more you were near it? In a few years, would you have a disposition that was nearly mechanical? A part of you hoped for that release, while the other part of you was terrified by it. 

You turned, eyes meeting the misty blues ones of King Thranduil. He stood a few feet away from you, a vision amongst the dead. Tall and noble, he looked every bit the king he was. Golden like the dawn, his hair was loose and messy, and his previously pristine armor was dirty with mud and blood, cuts and minor wounds marring his body. Yet he looked eerily perfect. 

His stare was heavy, yet you refused to be the one to look away. A hint of a smirk appeared on the edges of his lips as his head tilted to the side. Long and sure strides brought him closer to you while you stayed locked in place. The king stood before you, towering over your smaller form. You may have been on the taller side; he made you feel as though you were a hobbit.

“What is your name?” 

You lowered your head in a half-bow, a pathetic attempt to show respect, not entirely accustomed to the presence of royalty. 

“Y/N, my king.”  

He nodded, mouthing your name as if to commit it to memory.

“Do you live in Eryn Galen? I have never seen you.”

“I grew up in Lothlorien, where I spent most of my life before training to be a healer in Imladris. I have only recently moved to Eryn Galen.”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows and clasped his hands behind his back. 

“How lucky we are to have a student of Lord Elrond among us.” You could discern if his words were patronizing or genuine, his tone not betraying his intentions. 

“I did not train under Lord Elrond personally.” You felt the need to correct him, not wanting him to think you of a higher station than you were.

“But your teachers were overseen by him, were they not?”

You nodded.

“Then you were trained by Lord Elrond, even if he himself didn’t oversee your education.” 

A small smile appeared on your lips, and you nodded. “I have no choice but to agree; who would I be to disagree with a king.”

A coy smile pulled on the edges of his lips as his eyes shone. 

“A foolish woman is who you would be. Walk with me?” It was phrased as a question, but he didn’t wait for your answer. His long strides carried him towards camp, and you had no choice but to follow.   

“Tell me, do you plan on staying in Eryn Galen long?” His voice was crisp but quiet enough that only you could hear them.

“I do. I have grown fond of the people and its forest.” You spoke genuinely and truthfully. The wood elves were reclusive and suspicious, but once you broke through those barriers, they were full of merriment and loyalty. You cherished the relationships you had already formed and were eager for more. 

“Even in its sickly state,” his tone was sardonic but not enough to hide the pain in his voice. How terrible it must’ve been to see his home twisted into something so evil while powerless to stop it. 

“I believe there is still hope for it to be returned to health.”

Thranduil stopped in his tracks, eyes meeting yours. You stopped as well, patiently waiting for what he may say next. His expression was unreadable, eyes searching yours for the answers to questions you didn’t know. 

Wherever he was searching for, it sent shivers down your spine and made goosebumps form on your arms. The moonlight was kind to him, bathing him in a silvery light that made him look like the elves of Lothlorien who always seemed to shine. You felt your heart stutter as butterflies formed in your stomach. 

It could’ve been a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn there was a hint of affection in his bright eyes. After the death of his wife, rumors spread of his cold demeanor and harshen disposition. But now, before you, none of those adjectives seemed suited for him. As soft as the stars and as beautiful as the moon, how could he be anything but good and kind?

“I hope that you are right.” He finally broke the silence, eyes raising to the sky before he continued walking, and just as before, you matched his strides. Neither of you spoke, relishing in the silence after a terrible day full of death and terror. 

Finally, the both of you stopped in front of the tent that was yours.

“It was good to meet you today, Y/N. I hope to see you again; I find your company pleasant and your conversation enjoyable.”

A red flush made your face warm, and a child-like grin appeared on your lips. As light as a feather, you would’ve floated away had the king not grabbed your hand, delicately placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

When he released your hand, you lowered into a half curtsey, the movement not as fluid due to your dress that was stiff from the dried blood covering it. 

“It was an honor to speak with you, my king. I wish you a good rest tonight.” 

He smirked in a way that made your flush deepen.

“And if I find it difficult to find rest, will you brew me a tea to lull me to sleep.” 

“Herbology happens to be my specialty.” 

Thranduil gave a single, firm nod, yet his eyes never moved from yours. The affection you’d seen before was brighter, easier seen in the dim lighting. And you were certain your eyes portrayed the same attraction. Could this be the beginning of something wonderful?

“Then I shall know who to call upon in my hour of need.” He lowered into a full bow, his cloak billowing around him. You took a step back, a bout of giggle escaping your mouth. Who would’ve thought the stern king had a sense of humor?

“Farewell, my lady.” 

He then swept off further into the camp, and you stayed in your spot, watching his form disappear, only moving once you could no longer see him. You turned and entered your tent, hand placed upon your flushed cheek. As you readied yourself for bed, the encounter with Thranduil replayed in your mind. And suddenly, you found yourself dancing alone, unable to push back your excitement. 

And as you lay in bed and shut your eyes, you desperately hoped this would only be the beginning and not where the story would end. 

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

Tags: @jmablurry | @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @lifestylesleep | @themerriweathermage | @im-a-muggleborn | @sweetheart-syndrome | @boyruins | @AwkwardBecomesYou | @delyeceamaitare |

[creepychan08]

Yandere Thranduil x Reader

It wasn't supposed to end up like this. You heart's desire becoming a nightmare.

And now there's no way home.

"Thranduil, you can't keep me here. Sooner or later I must return home." You once again plead your case as Thranduil frowned and hold both your hands protectively. But lately it feels like his gentle touches were slowly turning like handcuffs chaining you to him, unable to escape his grasp.

"Meleth nin (My love) please, this is your home. Have I not treated you well? Tell me what more can I do to make you stay by my side?" 

His grip tightened, not in a hurtful way, but just enough to prove his desperation for your continued presence in his kingdom.

"Its not that at all. You have been truly kind to me and for that I am eternally grateful. But I have my family waiting for me. I miss them Thranduil. Terribly." Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and his gaze softened, drawing you closer in an embrace. You welcomed the comfort he provided and lean your head almost close to his chest, the part you can only reach due to your unfortunate stature.

"Have you found some other way to return to your world?"

"How could I when you took away that book and refused to let me out of your kingdom?" The bitter tone of your voice breaks the moment of tranquility when you remembered it was him who didn't allow you to leave and travel to Rivendell to seek help from Gandalf.

Though your tone was bitter, you felt him relaxed more against your embrace as if relieved.

"You know there are threats coming from the orcs resurfacing in the forest. I can't very well allow my beloved to travel and place yourself in harm's way. No, you will stay here with me." His fingers slowly brush down your hair as you feel your anger boil inside.

"I will not allow you to keep me in here like a trophy! No more! I will go out and discover the way back- back to my real home- if you won't help me." 

Thranduil grit his teeth in frustration as he roughly tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes fierce and burning as it stare straight to your soul and your composure faltered, realizing how large he is compared to you and the power he has to crush you any time.

"I will say it again. You won't leave my side forever. You are mine as I am yours."

A whimper unconsciously left your lips as you began to fear and tremble before him. The dominance he was radiating made you feel weak, unable to do anything but submit to his will.

Upon hearing that helpless sound, his seething expression was immediately wiped off, dark glint in his eyes returning to a soft crystal blue filled with worry and regret when he behold the terror he accidentally inflicted on his beloved.

"My starlight, I am so sorry. Please forgive this ignorant King from his careless actions. I did not mean to make you afraid of me. That was the last thing I ever wanted." The sorrow in his voice made you want to reach out and comfort him.

You remembered how it all started. 

*Flashback*

Being a fan of The Hobbit trilogy movie, you were immediately captivated by the ElvenKing, Thranduil. The daily occurence in your life involves imagining random scenarios and plots with him and deeply wishing to somehow be transported in Middle Earth to meet him. And one day it did come true.

You have no idea of your last memory of how you came to this new world. Whether you were killed by a truck driver and get isekai'd, or if you were just dreaming or worse case in a coma, you have no idea how you are actually faring in the real world. But there was a portal which immediately closed as soon as your feet step into the grounds of the forest of Mirkwood.

Obviously you were taken by the patrolling group of elves and presented to Thranduil. It was not love at sight as you were already crushing on him way back on Earth but it sure did made your heart jumped with excitement as you eagerly and honestly answered each one of his questions.

You were detained in the dungeons for some time as the ElvenKing pondered on your statement to see if you were just lying to get yourself out of this mess. Perhaps it is dark magic then to how you were transported to this world? Are you a threat? But somewhere deep down in his cold heart, he could feel the sincerity radiating off you. And there was something else too- something foreign but pleasant that he felt when he first talked with you.

After careful consideration, Thranduil finally released you from prison and transferred you to a well-furnished room. He was still unsure of what to do with you. Strangely enough, the thought of assigning you to be a servant, a maid, cook, or a warrior didn't sit well with him so he decided to treat you as a guest and get to know you better.

As he did, he finds himself slowly falling for you. Unlike the other elleths (women elves), you possess kindness and genuine concern for other people. You interacted with his guards and other servants with much respect and he saw them slowly warming up to you. Everyday, he would look forward to seeing you first thing in the morning as your smile immediately brightens his day. And during the evening after he finish his work early, he would asks you to walk with him in the gardens.

It was no surprise when he ends up falling head over heels in love. He started properly courting you and sending expensive gifts everyday.

"You know you don't have to send me all these stuff, Thranduil. Its too expensive"

"Nonsense. I am the King and I can give you everything you deserve and more. Unless.. do you not like them? I can have another jewel be made to fit your taste-"

"No! No need, I really like this one. Thank you, Thranduil" You smiled at him gratefully and the corner of his lips lifted up as he stare at you.

"Anything for you, my starlight" He draws his arms open and gently pulled you to his embrace, his robe covering your form as you lean you head on his chest.

You wished those moments would have lasted more.

Thranduil was a gentle lover. Always kind. Always patient. Always caring towards you. He never once raised his voice at you and you greatly appreciated it. But as the days go by, you noticed him getting more possessive and obsessive over you.

"We were just talking! He is your guard long before I came here and he is just my friend" You defended yourself as Thranduil warned you against talking to one of his royal guards.

"I do not like the way he looks at you, meleth nin. You are mine, don't forget that. He should know his place."

"Everyone knows we are together so stop being suspicious of other elves! I am not fond of the way you're acting right now. I will leave you to cool your head first."

As you turn to leave, his arms reach out to wrap around your waist as he hug you from behind. His head bowed low so as to breath in the scent of your hair to calm him down.

"No, don't leave please. I am sorry, my love. I am just afraid of losing you."

You sighed, feeling your heart soften. You turn to face him again and saw the insecurities and doubt swirling in his eyes.

"Now what brought my King such worries? Haven't I told you I only have eyes for you? That my heart beats only for you?" You cup his cheek as he closed his eyes and lean towards your touch.

"I know and I believe you. Sometimes, I just can't help but fear that you'll find someone better than me. I can't live without you, YN"

"You'll always have me Thranduil. My heart belongs only to you." You reassured, hugging him tightly to show your devotion.

Maybe you shouldn't have promised that as months passed and you soon discover a way to open the portal again back to your real world while browsing the library. But you don't understand some of the text written as it was in Elvish language and from what you can read, it also needs the spells only casted by wizards.

"Thranduil, I finally found a way to return back to my world!" You excitedly said as you barge to his throne room, while carrying the book.

His eyes widened and he immediately walked down the stairs of his throne towards you.

"What did you say, my love?" The cutting edge of his tone failed to make its way to your ears as you were excitedly thinking of how soon you can probably go home once this works.

"I said I found a way to open the portal again to my world! But I need some help with the Elvish language and Gandalf as well to complete the steps here." You showed him the book and the pages where it was located.

He was quiet for a while and politely asked for the book. As you gave it to him, he immediately throws it to the ground and asked his servant to seal it in the forbidden section of the library.

"No! Why did you do that?!" You screamed, feeling betrayed by his action. You tried to get back the book but he tightly hold you against him before carrying you towards his bedroom as you continue to resist.

Once he locked the door, he put you down on his bed as you glare at him.

"How could you do that? That was my only way home!"

 His eyes hardened, frown marring his features.

"Exactly. I won't have you leaving me alone here, YN. You promised that I'll always have you, didn't you? And I promised to be yours forever"

You frozed as you remember the promise you said to him months ago. You meant it. You did. But that was before you learned that there is still a way back to your real world after giving up for so long. However, you did promised him and you can't go back on your word.

Bowing your head in shame, you nodded. "Yes, I did. I remember my oath that day, Thranduil." A feeling of frustration and mixed feelings made its way to your heart.

"You know I love you. I do. I just miss my family so much. I wonder what they are doing in my world. I wonder if they are grieving over me or still patiently hoping for my return. Am I selfish, my love?" You looked up at him as tears stream down your cheeks.

Thranduil felt his heart clench as he saw your sorrow. He can't stand to see the anguish in your eyes as it overflows with your tears. He gathered you in his arms and let you cry against his shoulders.

"I'm here, meleth nin. I'm here. Please don't cry." He whispered comforting words and before long, you felt drowsy and fall asleep in his hold.

Thranduil carefully put you in the bed and covered you with blanket. He placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room.

From that day on, he decreed an order that you are not allowed to leave his kingdom and that anyone who try to help you escape will be executed.

*End of Flashback*

"You've changed Thranduil" You gaze at him with such disappointment that he falters for a moment.

"No, please don't say that meleth nin. Don't look at me like that. I love you. I can't let you out of my grasp. I can't let you go. Ever." He pulled you closer and tilted your chin so you were looking straight at him.

The sight made you tremble. His eyes which were once full of adoration and pure love for you were now filled with dark obsession.

"Resist me no more, my starlight. Stay here. I will take care of you. I will love and worship you forever." 

He back you slowly into the bed and you didn't notice until you trip and lay sprawled against his bedsheets in a vulnerable state.

You tried to get up but he lightly pushed you down so he towers over you.

"No, no, I have to return home. I need to see my family again. I can still come back here Thranduil. I won't leave you forever." You tried to reassure your lover.

Shadows loomed in his face and when he finally look at you, something dark and dangerous radiated from his being.

You gasped, crawling away from him towards the center of the bed as he followed after you. You grab his pillow to defend yourself.

"Okay- stop. Don't get any closer, Thranduil. You're scaring me."

The blank look in his eyes shifted to that of a predator finally catching its prey as he reach you. A smile of dark insanity painted on his lips. He take hold of the pillow separating you two and throws it to the side.

"You know, I've always wanted to marry you, my starlight. In our culture there are two ways one can get married. First is by traditional exchange of vows and the other-" He paused, pushing you down once more as he hovered above you. "-is by being one in body, two souls bonded forever. If I may be honest, I much prefer the latter."

His fingers slowly slid down your body, touch as light as feather as it passes through your neck, the valley of your breast, down to your stomach and settling on your lower abdomen.

Your breath hitched as you watch him, goosebumps rising on you skin as you feel your heart thumping loudly.

"We will be one tonight, my love. And I will plant my seed inside your fertile womb. Since you miss your family so much, we will have one of our own- a much bigger family. We will have a dozen or more elflings running around the kingdom. And you will soon forget that silly ambition in your mind. I told you before. You won't leave me. Ever. For you are mine and I am yours."

With that he sealed his promise with a passionate kiss as he consume your being, leaving you breathless and gasping for more.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I didn't expect this oneshot to be longer than what I originally planned lol. Anyway, I've been obsessing over Thranduil for weeks now and I thought if he'd be the one going yandere for me, I would immediately give in 😂

But yeah unfortunately he's just a fictional character sooo! Anyway thanks for reading up this far.

Hope you have a great day and stay safe guys! :)))

[astarothstarion]

“An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward. When life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means it's going to launch you into something great. So just focus, and keep aiming.”

[soralinklokidottirofmirkwood]

Daddy’s little girl: Dad Thranduil x teen (turned into baby) daughter reader part 2.

Reader Chan being coddled by Dad Thranduil.

It had been 3 weeks since your de-aging transformation and boy did it have its ups and downs.

The down side is that you had to go in a diaper, your father or maids washed, dressed and feed you, you had a sleep schedule, you constantly needed adult supervision but worse of all you had to be carried all the time since you can’t walk anymore.

On the upside you get a lot of undivided attention, you got to take naps and you get to be near your father more.

You were napping in your bed that now had bars around it so you wouldn’t fall off with a mobile that had crescent moon, duck, elk, butterfly and elf archer plushies on it, cuddling an elk plushie with a pacifier in your now toothless mouth.

You slowly opened your eyes after an hour of sleeping to see that your father, Gandalf and Lord Elrond were talking with your father sitting at your desk “Looks like someone’s awake from their beauty sleep.” Elrond said smiling making Gandalf chuckle while your father got up from your desk chair and took you out of the crib while you let go of your elk “Tis almost time for luncheon anyways.” Your father said gently propping you on his shoulder while you sucked on your pacifier that was probably driving him crazy.

You sat on your fathers lap in the dinning hall with Elrond, Gandalf and the boys, Legolas and Elladan were poking your cheeks making you puff them out “Boys!!!” Thranduil and Elrond said in a warning tone while giving them stern looks “But she looks adorable when she pouts like that.” Elrohir said taking Legolas’s place in poking your chubby cheeks until you had enough and bit his and Elladan’s fingers as hard as you could making everyone chuckle as your father hugged your tiny body gently.

After eating your father and Elrond had a meeting and they brought you with them which ticked you since you hated meetings because nothing was ever done and the diplomats in their were very immature (You sometimes wondered how your father can stay calm through all that without exploding) not to mention the never ending arguments on what should be done.

This meeting was the only time you were thankful to be de aged because of the return of your short attention span you forgot you were in the meeting and just played with your fathers rings as he and Elrond talked with the men, dwarves and other elves from different kingdoms “And that closes today’s meeting. By the way Thranduil, what happened to the princess?” One of the elves asked making you snap out of what you were doing and look up to see that the meeting was finished “She accidentally drank a de aging potion that Gandalf brewed for a prank on the boys.” Your father said spinning a little white lie “Oh, That makes sense. But she does look adorable.” Said a she dwarf smiling at you gently while your baby mind took over.

After the meeting you, your father and Elrond went outside to see how the boys and Glorfindel are doing in their training but instead you were met with three fully grown ellon arguing on who got the most shots until the two even older ellon spoke “Ahem.” Your father and Elrond said together with you getting distracted by a butterfly as you reached out to touch it but it flew away making you whimper “You boys have upset Y/N.” Your father scolded patting your back gently “You three will have extra training for three weeks.” Elrond said making Thranduil nod while you played with his spider broach with curious eyes while sucking your thumb “Um, Thranduil!?” Elrond said pointing down to you making the older elf look down to see you sucking on your thumb “This is new.” Your father said in surprise “She’s never done this as an infant.” He said making realization hit you ‘What in Eru’s name is wrong with me? It’s embarrassing enough that everyone in the palace knows that I’m a baby again for a month.’ You thought in your head burring it in you father’s burgundy robes making him chuckle a bit and pat your tiny head as the boys snickered “I’ve never seen her suck her thumb, she never did that as a kid.” Legolas said making Thranduil give him a death look “May I remind you, Legolas that you yourself are punished as well for bringing Y/N with you on Patrol knowing that she’s not allowed!?” Your father said making you smirk and stick your tongue out at your big brother “Oye She just stuck her tongue out at me.” Legolas said “We saw her to.” The twins said pointing to you still curled into a tiny ball in your father’s arms making the even older elves give Legolas and the twins annoyed looks as you rested your head on Thranduil’s shoulder.

A month later:

It was finally your last day of grounding and being a baby, tomorrow you will be free from grounding and be turned back into your actual age.

Though it was fun being a baby again and getting more attention, though you found too much attention embarrassing.

That night:

You are being held by Thranduil as Gandalf gave him the potion that will turn you back into a teenager that is in a baby bottle.

Thranduil sat on your bed that now had the Bars removed since it was your last night as an infant with you still in his arms but your now dressed in one of your big nightgowns, after feeding you, Thranduil burped you then put you to bed while saying “I’m going to miss this.” He said placing a kiss on your tiny head for the last time.

The next morning:

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the sun rays shining through your window.

You sat up from your bed and felt that your feet can finally touched the floor, looking at your body mirror you’re happy to see that you’re a teenager again “Finally.” You said going to your private bathroom without your fathers and maids help.

After bathing you got dressed and did your hair for the day “Finally, no more adult supervision.” You said happily until you heard your father’s voice “All though you’re still not allowed anywhere without at least three guards with you, even around the palace.” He said waking into your room “I will be joining you during your training time from now on to determine when you’re ready to join the patrol, you will also be staying with me in the throne when you’re done with your training and you will be dining with me. Do you understand little one?” He asked “Yes Dad.” You said as your brother who looked frazzled walked into the room “Legolas, I hope this experience has taught you both a lesson and Legolas if you or Tauriel put Y/N in danger like that again you both will face the same punishment as Y/N. Am I making myself clear?” He asked “Perfectly father.” Legolas said with a blush then all of you walked out to the dining hall for breakfast ‘I can finally eat different foods again instead of baby Porridge.’ You said in your head.

Once in the dining room Legolas went to join the patrol while you and your father joined Gandalf “I see that you’re back little one.” Gandalf said “Indeed, and this time She’ll be under my strict supervision so the dangerous stunt Tauriel and Legolas pulled doesn’t happen again.” Thranduil said absentmindedly pulling you onto his lap “Umm, Ada!” You said making him realize what he’s doing “One more time wouldn’t hurt.” Thranduil said digging into his breakfast with you and Gandalf doing the same with Gandalf chuckling in amusement.

During the past 2 weeks since you’ve been turned back to normal Thranduil has kept his word on you being under his strict supervision because everyday he would watch you and your new mentor (Tauriel and Legolas weren’t allowed to train you for awhile.) training on your archery skills along with your personal guards who now accompanied you 24/7 by your fathers orders and Thranduil has you with him in the throne room or with your guards, Tauriel and Legolas were also off their punishment though they ended up smelling like horses and elk for awhile along with having straw in their hair.

[ladyiveenalma]

“When you cannot look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark”

[shirefantasies]

A loooot of elf posts coming up soon… elf lovers get ready 😉 but don’t worry, Thorin’s Company gets some love first 😁