#fingon fluff

[doodle-pops]

For Pride or Joy

Fingon x reader

Warnings: nothing, it’s all fluff

Words: 700

Synopsis: You make a daring bet with Fingon.

“You really wish to make that bet with me? You know I’ll win, right?” he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his sapphire eyes. Head tilted and lips tugged to form a smirk, he awaited your negative response as expected since the beginning of the argument.

With a lame scoff, you rolled your eyes and looked away from his childish antics. You didn’t understand his persistence when everyone, even Eru knew he would fail from the start. However, failure was never an attribute of Fingon, and you wonder what he would look like should it have happened. Darting your eyes at him with sinister intent behind them, you grinned innocently and held out your hand for him to shake. “Loser has to do everything the winner demands?”

Without skipping a beat, his larger hands gripped you in a firm handshake while his grin mimicked yours. “Deal.”

**

Fingon wanted to drown himself in the vat of wine he stood before as thoughts of his foolishness for agreeing to your bet hurled across his mind. What would he do to have someone take him out of his misery?

You were standing on the opposite side of the room gossiping with your friends and laughing at Eru knows what concerning the latest drama in Tirion. He felt like you were mocking him as you were for the last five hours. Your necklace fell perfectly against your neck; you insisted on wearing the one gifted to you by him at the beginning of your courtship. The way you smiled with your pretty wine-stained lips, batting your lashes at him from the corner of your eyes when no one was looking.

In this moment, you were his agony. And all because of that foolish bet…and his foolishness.

“You’re a very physically affectionate person Finno. I doubt you can survive for five seconds without touching some part of me.”

He scoffed. It grew worse when he realised what ‘no physical interactions’ meant when he came to visit you this morning to whisk you away for the family dinner. You walked past him without sparing him a ‘hello kiss’ or a ‘good morning darling kiss’ and rushed to the carriage. He crumpled to his knees and almost rushed to cling to your legs when you broke the second rule to him.

“No physical interactions mean no kissing as well Finno. You of all people should know that Prince Touchy.”

You were the cruellest person to walk the earth, and to be paired with you as his lover. A curse! A nightmare! The world was coming to an end, and he could really do with drowning himself in that vat of wine at that moment. All his siblings and cousins were busy engaging with their beloveds and placing kisses upon their cheeks and hands while he had to watch like a loser. Many of them had paraded to his side to inquire if he was alright the entire day while he ground his teeth and squeezed out positive responses.

“Pouting does not suit you, darling.” He whipped around at the sound of your voice goading him in the festivities of his family. “It appears as though you might cry any minute for whatever is the matter. Handkerchief?”

He exhaled and rolled his eyes, not the common expression for his mirth personality. “Mock me all you want, I will win,” he declared and took a sip of his wine. “However, I am thrilled to have this competition, for now I know you are far too mean and sly. Tell me, why must you take it so far and deny me what I love the most?!”

“To prove me right when I said you adore physical affection like your existence depends on it,” you sniggered and gave him a smug look. “There’s nothing wrong with losing to me. I’m your lover, so it’s also a plus. Or does your pride refuse your ability to accept defeat?”

“Defeat does not exist in the life of Prince Findekáno, sweetheart. I will win even if today is just day one, I will win,” he confidently boasted with his head high and chin jutting out, refusing to accept your alleged statements about his natural habit.

Though, he was quick to succumb to his losses two hours later after you accidentally bumped your shoulder against his, urging him to engulf you into a hug on the dancefloor and swearing about not giving a damn about the bet when holding you was more important.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @sakurayaxd @aconstructofamind @stormchaser819 @addaigio @lamemaster @zheiya @elficially-done-with-life

If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link to join.

#fingon x reader #fingon fluff #fingon imagine #fingon scenario #fingon #findekáno #house of fingolfin #nolofinweans #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion fluff #silmarillion scenario #silmarillion fic #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth fluff #middle earth fic #x reader insert #x reader fluff #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[thelien-art]

I love your art and sketches so much! Was wondering if you'd be open to sketching Fingon and Idril? I have such a soft spot for their little relationship even though there's absolutely nothing in canon about it :)) No pressure whatsoever of course. Thanks for sharing your beautiful art!

Thank you♡

Here, a small half colored sketch

I needed a break for the calendar and this intrigued me - I actually never thought that much about their relationship but rn my brain is filled with thoughts about them XD

#tolkien #silmarillion #jrr tolkien #fingon #findekano #idril #idril celebrindal #silm art #my art #digital art #can anyone point me to any fics with these two #like just pure fluff fics #? #wasnt sure if i wanted to give idril longer hair or not as shes only half noldor #serious woman serious child #nah i think she was a laughing child

[lamemaster]

Trade Worth an Afternoon

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Nolofinwean + Celegorm x Sister Reader

Summary: Ambarussar = 1 Y/n?

AN: My soul said, "WRITE THIS SHIT RN!!"

“Hmm why yes Celgorm, of course, we can come to an agreement,” Aredhel drawled carefully, her voice laced with amusement as she glanced away from where you and Argon sat, engrossed in your toys.  Her eyes twinkled with mischief, a stark contrast to the seriousness of the "trade negotiations" she was proposing.

Stifling a laugh that threatened to erupt, Celegorm replied, playing along.  “2 Ambrussa for 1 y/n.  That is fair trade, Aredhel.”  His voice held a hint of playful arrogance, knowing full well the absurdity of bartering with children.

The mention of your name pierced through your concentration, and you looked up from your game of blocks with wide, curious eyes.  Argon, ever the follower, followed suit, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“You are right, perhaps,” Aredhel conceded with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she turned her attention to you directly.  “What do you think, little y/n?  Do you want to become Celegorm’s sister?”

A small patter of feet echoed across the polished stone floor as both you and Argon scrambled towards your sister and cousin. “No. I am your sister,” you declared bluntly, your voice clear and unwavering.

“Yes, y/n is our sister,” Argon parroted, his voice echoing yours in a perfect unison.  The pair of you, oblivious to the undercurrent of amusement between your elders, stood side-by-side, a united front against this unexpected proposition.

Pulling Argon into a playful embrace, Aredhel feigned a dramatic sigh.  “But you have a sister, me.  Now Celegorm and his brothers don’t have one.  Why don’t we share, just like amil taught us?” 

Argon, ever his mother’s pet and easily swayed by her gentle words, was instantly caught in a moral dilemma.  His brow furrowed as he deliberated, torn between wanting to please both his mother and his best friend.  “No… but,” he stammered, his voice laden with worry as he looked back at you with a helpless expression.

You, however, were not so easily swayed.  You set your jaw with a determination that belied your age and glared at Celegorm, who was trying his best to stifle another laugh.  “I won’t go,” you declared fiercely. 

Celegorm, caught off guard by your outburst, hoisted you into his arms with a playful rumble.  "And why not, y/n?" he teased, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You flailed your limbs in protest, the urge to pull his hair warring with the ticklish sensation his leather cuffs sent against your skin.

"Finno and Turu won't allow this!" you sputtered, glaring back at him with narrowed eyes.  "And ata loves me more than Aredhel!"  This last declaration was more of a desperate hope than a statement of fact, but it served its purpose. Aredhel's smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something akin to annoyance crossing her features.

As for Argon, the very notion of being separated from you sent him into a silent panic.  He looked mortified at the idea of sharing his room with the rambunctious Fëanorian twins, even more mortified at the prospect of leaving his unfinished drawing and the half-built block castle behind.  With a whimper, he tugged on Aredhel's sleeve, his lower lip trembling.  "No, y/n is my sister," he echoed your words, shaking his head vehemently as if denying the very possibility of the trade.

"Uncle Nolofinwe and my father already agreed," Celegorm declared smugly, a broad grin splitting his face. "Unfortunately, y/n, you will be now our sister."

His words hit you like a thunderbolt. Your eyes widened in shock, threatening to spill tears at any moment. "No!" you cried, your voice trembling like a leaf in a winter wind. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I'm Argon's sister! We promised Amil we'd finish building our castle together! And besides," you hiccuped, rubbing your eyes "Ambarussar are too big for my bed. They won't fit!"

Argon, mirroring your distress, began to wail. He clung to Aredhel, his tiny fists clutching at her tunic. "No! No y/n go!" he sobbed, his voice thick with tears.

"And when my brothers and I return from our next adventure," Celegorm continued adding fuel to the fire in his chaotic ways, "y/n will come with us.”

Argon, his lower lip trembling, clutched you desperately. His only playmate, his confidante. Galadriel was too smart to play with on normal days. 

The room erupted in chaos. You, fueled by a sudden surge of adrenaline, wriggled free from Celegorm's surprised grasp.  "Never!" you screamed, bolting towards the nearest exit. 

Argon, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, followed close behind, his small legs pumping furiously.

Fingolfin, his face a mask of thunder, stood before Aredhel and Celegorm, both of whom shuffled uncharacteristically on their feet. The usual twinkle in their eyes was replaced with a dull sheepishness.

"What did you do?"  Fingolfin's voice boomed.

"Well..." Aredhel began, her usual silver tongue failing her.  Celegorm, notorious for his smooth talk, coughed awkwardly, unable to meet Fingolfin's steely gaze.

And for once both Aeredhel and Celegorm were at a loss for their words. The prank…perhaps had been too harsh. The flushed faces of both Fingon and Turgon, who had spent the entire evening looking both you both were enough to answer that it indeed had been too much. 

And thus, the product of their prank lay in Fingolfin and Anaire's laps. Both you and Argon slept peacefully, your faces streaked with tears that had dried on your cheeks.

"Aredhel," Turgon's voice was a low rumble, devoid of its usual playful teasing. "We scoured the entire city for y/n and Argon. The entire afternoon."  His gaze, usually warm, was now icy with disapproval.

Fingon, his hand resting protectively on your head, patted Turgon's arm in a silent plea for calm.  "What did you even say for them to hide so fiercely?" he asked, his voice stern but tinged with relief.  "They ran away the moment they saw me and Turgon, then vanished for the entire day." Fingon usually retained the position of the most loved sibling for all Nolofinwean siblings.

"Y/n even hid all her belongings, and neither of them showed up for their evening snacks."

This last detail struck a deeper chord.  Evening snacks with Fingolfin were a cherished ritual for the younger members of the family, a time for stories and laughter.  That they would skip it willingly was a testament to the terror they must have felt.

“It was merely a jest,” Aredhel tries to weasel her way out of the situation. 

"A jest?" Turgon echoed, his voice tight with contained fury. "An entire afternoon of frantic searching constitutes a jest to you, Aredhel?"

Anaire, her face pale with worry, finally spoke. "They haven't said a word since we found them," she said, her voice trembling slightly.  "They were huddled together under their bed sobbing hysterically. What did you do to them?"

"We told them that we were going to trade y/n for the twins," Aredhel admitted, her voice barely a whisper. 

The room fell silent for a beat, thick with tension that quickly dissolved into an eruption of laughter. Fingon and Fingolfin, unable to contain themselves, doubled over, snorting with amusement. Even Anaire, despite her initial glare, found a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Finwe's crooked humor, it seemed, wasn't lost on his bloodline.

"Oh, my poor darlings," Anaire cooed, leaning down to kiss your and Argon's foreheads, a soft smile gracing her features. "That must have been terrifying. But you two managed to hide quite well.” While both the said, elflings barely stirred in their sleep.

Aredhel, relieved by the shift in atmosphere, puffed out her chest with a hint of pride. "They were! We even had them convinced Uncle Curufinwe and Ata were in on it."

Before she could revel in her mischievousness any further, Turgon, ever the serious one, swatted her playfully on the back of the head.

And that is how the infamous story of trading siblings came to be in the Finwean clan. One that often left a sputtering mess of Celegorm and Aredhel. And a slightly offended Ambarussar.

#the silmarillion #tolkien elves #silmarillion x reader #aredhel #fingon #fingolfin #anaire #asks #argon #sister reader #fluff #celegorm #turgon

[melestasflight]

The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant

Findekáno returns to Tirion after ten years in Manwë’s service in Valmar. He is much changed to the delight of his Fëanárian cousins. And the sons of Fëanáro are always determined to get what they want.

... aka the Fëanorians fall head over heels for Fingon!

~

Join @polutrope and me on this wild ride for @feanorianweek. All chapters are now up!

Read on AO3

#fluff #humor #years of the trees #kissing #lots of it #romance #fingon x sons of feanor #not all at once #fingon #maedhros #russingon #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #amrod #amras #feanorians #feanorianweek #the silmarillion #silmarillion #silm fandom #tolkien #polutropos #Melesta #my writing #our writing

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Rituals/Tradition

With art for this from @the-red-butterfly 💖💖💖 (Please show her some love!!!)

In the tradition of Cursed Cards, have some more photograph shenanigans...

Characters: Maedhros x Fingon (yes, still half-cousins!)

Words: 2 240

Warnings: pure fluff, no warnings

“Finno, are you coming?”

Fingon was about to let his phone drop to the low coffee table in his parents’ living room when the soft chime of a text message caught his attention.

Have fun skiing with your family! <3

Rereading the message while sweating profusely in the heavily padded costume, Fingon gripped the device a little harder when a second chime announced an addition to Russo’s parting communication.

The yearly family trip to the mountains was a well-established and cherished tradition, but Fingon would have gladly skipped it if his beloved had been amenable to staying home with him instead.

Alas, his lover—just as fond and faithful where family traditions were concerned—spent the winter holidays first on a boating trip, even though none of his six brothers was a particularly good seafarer, and then holed up in a remote cabin in a picturesque forest.

“You are very welcome to come to the cabin later in the week, if Tyelko’s shanties are not to your liking,” Russo had joked, and—afraid of intruding—Fingon had smiled warmly and declined.

A part of him regretted not having jumped at the opportunity from that very moment on, and—breaking with tradition little by little—he had purposefully dawdled when leaving for his own family holiday so he could take his own car to the ski resort.

He wondered whether his siblings had missed him on their rowdy, noisy, exasperating drive; Fingon truly felt sorry for not spending more time with them and for letting his mind drift away whenever he actually was by their side.

“Are you coming or not? No phone!” Turgon repeated, his stern, noble brow creased with impatience and annoyance.

“I don’t know how Elenwë—or anyone else, for that matter—bears your endless nagging,” Fingon grumbled, sensing that his whole plans were about to be derailed as his thumb slid across the screen towards the little envelope, decorated by that alluring red dot. “I won’t be a minute.”

He should go, he knew it, but he could not bear to leave a message from his lover unopened. What if he needed help? What if it was an emergency?

Clicking on it, he sealed his fate. A quiet gasp escaped him, and his cheeks darkened with delight.

“You’re not coming, are you?” Turgon snapped bitingly. Following his oldest brother’s darting eyes—the door to the bedrooms, the sprawling front window, back to the door—he instinctively divined his erratic thoughts. “I’ll pack your gear; get the necessities and go. I’ll tell the others when we meet at the foot of the mountain.”

Shooting a quick glance full of gratitude at his stolid, taciturn younger brother, Fingon all but jumped out of his elaborate suit and stumbled towards the door in a flimsy sweatshirt and his rattiest, thinnest sweatpants.

“Keys,” Turgon groaned, snatched them from the tangled mess in the beautiful ceramic bowl by the door, and tossed them over effortlessly. “Greet Maedhros from me.”

Stalking away with enviable dignity, he refused to add any other parting words.

“But look at the picture!” Fingon whispered and held his phone aloft, waving it slightly at Turgon’s retreating back. “Eh, your loss.”

The caption said something about Tyelko having spiked the punch, but that was of little importance to Fingon—he was too entranced by the photograph itself, showing his sweet redhead in an uncharacteristically deep blue sweater.

As he hurried towards his car, almost slipping thrice because he couldn’t pry his gaze off the wavering screen in his numb hand, Fingon grinned like a lunatic to mirror the wide, happy smile his sweetheart was sporting.

He loved all of his boyfriend’s smiles—the tiny quirks making the corners of his mouth dance as much as the polite, subdued curve his fine lips assumed at times—but the open-mouthed grin knocked the very breath out of his lungs with amazement so rare and marvellous did it seem to him.

Russo, he thought fondly, didn’t stomach liquor well, especially not if it was in a hot beverage, and the tell-tale flush as well as the brightness of his eyes told him all he needed to know.

Suddenly, the ever-gnawing yearning in the pit of his stomach became positively unbearable as he thought of the strong, seemingly endless arms of his partner, wrapped a little too tightly around his waist.

He wanted this; he longed to be there to run his fingers along the intricate pattern of exquisite knitwear in his own colours and watch Russo flush under the onslaught of messy, cinnamon-flavoured kisses and the soothing effect of mulled wine.

“Moryo made the sweater for me; isn’t it lovely?”

Fingon started the car, weighing the pros and cons of texting while driving and stopping almost instantly again.

“It’s beautiful. You’re gorgeous,” he typed quickly.

“I might be a little tipsy. I miss you. The twins said that I am to be the tree this year—father didn’t find one he liked. Everyone agrees that I am tall enough. Hence the decorations. Do you like them?”

Swiping his thumb blindly across the screen, Fingon pulled up the picture again.

He wasn’t sure whether it was acceptable to call while Maedhros was with his family, but he felt as if he would die in the white hell of swirling snow if he didn’t hear that warm, serious voice telling him that everything was all right.

His father, of course, had raised him better than this, but Fingon nevertheless fiddled with his phone until he heard the clangourous ringing sound cut through the unnerving static of the engine purring in the background.

“Hey,” Maedhros said. “Are you not on your way down a slope right now? Are you being safe? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

“Slow down, Red,” Fingon laughed, the weight on his chest dissolving into a puff of warm air, and turned the heating on. “I am indeed not skiing. Does your invitation still stand?”

A pensive hum resounded, mellow and satisfied, and then a sharp inhalation.

“Where are you, Fin?”

“I am in my car. Does your invitation stand, Russo?”

“Yes,” the other laughed. “I would warn you not to come—my brothers are in high spirits which is always a dangerous thing—but the idea of having you here is too alluring…”

“Tell me about your gifts,” Fingon pleaded softly as he raced out of the resort at twice the recommended speed. “I love the sweater. Is that a new prosthesis I’ve glimpsed?”

Gurgling with laughter, his swain confirmed. “Yeah, Curvo made it. It’s very good, very comfortable.”

“Can’t wait to feel it on my—wait, I am not on speakerphone, right?”

“No, of course not,” Maedhros exclaimed indignantly—his voice was so powerful and loud that he had single-handedly eliminated any need for such an accommodation anyway, but just hearing him sound so light-hearted was worth any and every indignity to Fingon.

“Maglor gave me a mug saying ‘Tall Ass Bitch’, which is funny because I got him a tiny blanket that said ‘Short King’. Isn’t that hilarious? He also made it himself—Mother was ecstatic.”

It was, as a matter of fact, hysterical, and Fingon had to focus hard not to drive off the road because he was shaking with laughter. “It sounds as if you’re having a marvellous time,” he wheezed. “I am glad. Turno is mad at me—I got your pic and just took off. Haven’t even said goodbye to the rest of the family.”

“You are disgusting,” Caranthir hollered from somewhere in the background. “I am moving my stuff into the movie room—no way I’ll sleep in the same room as you two.”

“Awww Moryo, don’t be like that,” Maedhros harrumphed. “Have another glass of glogg!”

“When I see what it’s done to you, no thank you,” came the reprobative answer, and then, there was silence once more.

“Please stay as you are,” Fingon beseeched his lover. “I want to be the one to pluck those pretty glass ornaments from your silken hair. Also, my fingers are itching to peel you out of this very nice sweater—not your usual colour palette, though, is it?”

“Moryo can say what he wants,” Maedhros replied smugly, “but he did choose your colours for my sweater, so he can’t object all that much, can he? He gets better every year, you must feel that thing—you couldn’t buy that kind of quality in just any regular shop.” The warm pride ringing in every word warmed Fingon’s heart as he pushed relentlessly through the rocky, snow-covered panorama of his holiday destination to reach the milder climates of the region surrounding the cute cabin his love’s family rented every year.

“Will he rat us out?” he then asked, slightly nervous. He liked Nerdanel, and he had taken his fair share of silly pictures of himself and his siblings to satisfy her addiction to cute but embarrassing photographs, but he did not want to crash her cosy getaway with her beloved children.

“OH,” Maedhros giggled. “They all know already—I might have pumped my fist and danced across the living room, almost trampling one of the twins who was looking for something under the couch, no matter…so yeah, my parents know that you’re coming. It’s all good. Better than good. You know what? I am going to put aside a bit of the punch for us—for later.”

The quality of his timbre had taken on a sultry, seductive note now, and Fingon shivered despite the hot air blasting through his car. Why were they so far apart?

“You do that, my love,” he said when he realised that he had not given any answer to that suggestion, so enthralled was he by the idea of his Russo—warm, pliable, and utterly contented—sprawling on a narrow bed for which he was much too tall. “I’d follow you anywhere, you know that, right? Over the endless ice and across the raging ocean—I’ll always come for you!”

“I hope so,” came the soft, mumbled reply. “And I’ll always be waiting, ever scanning the horizon feverishly for the deliverance of your friendship and love. Are you still very far?”

“Yes,” Fingon muttered, frustrated with how long and tedious his road would be, but just as determined to make it into those desperately wished-for arms as fast as possible. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Bad weather conditions and adverse events delayed Fingon unduly but—just as the night grew pitch dark in the small, picturesque valley—he saw the majestic hill ahead. Nestled against its elegant slope stood a cottage—looking tiny from that distance—from which the brightly lit windows twinkled like golden stars.

“Soon, my darling,” Fingon hummed; he had not gotten an answer in at least twenty minutes, but the sound of his lover’s deep, regular breathing was nevertheless soothing and encouraging.

“Good evening, you must be tired. He…fell asleep. Do you want to go wake him, and I’ll make you a spot of dinner?” Nerdanel whispered as she opened the door, tutted at the glaring lack of sensible winterwear, and then pulled Fingon into a forceful, welcoming hug.

Nodding, Fingon kicked off his snow boots, and padded over to the couch on thick, woollen socks; he didn’t even mind the fact that several of Maedhros’s brothers were standing around, sniggering softly, as he bent over that curled-up form and breathed a tender kiss onto the chiselled jaw of his personal miracle.

“Good evening, sleepyhead,” he whispered, rubbing slow circles into the long, lean back of the peaceful sleeper. “Happy holidays, my love.”

When Maedhros blinked, dazed and confused, Fingon broke into a smile so deep and earnest, it made his eyes crinkle and his lips stretch taut over his flashing, slightly irregular teeth. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Finno, I am so sorry. You—You are already here? I dreamed of you; it was such a good dream,” Maedhros mumbled, rubbing his eyes and extending his hand to his mug automatically to chase the stale, sticky taste in his mouth.

“Your mother is making dinner,” Fingon explained as he shuffled onto the couch beside the jumble of shapely limbs and slid his hand into Maedhros’s warm palm.

“I am so happy that you’re here,” the still rather dopey ginger sighed, leaning his head—Christmas tree decoration and knots—against Fingon’s strong, muscular shoulder. “Now, it is perfect.”

“I am afraid,” Fingon confessed in a conspiratorial whisper, “that I have forgotten your gift in my suitcase. You’ll get it after the holidays! I swear!”

“Hmmm, you’re all I need.” Humming happily, Maedhros slung his arms around Fingon’s waist and so they sat, lulled by the whispered conversations of the ever-present gaggle of brothers and seduced into hunger by the aromatic fumes of a late-night dinner about to be served.

“Sweetling?” Fingon prompted suddenly as his phone vibrated in his pocket. “Could you please send my mother the picture of you? I am sure she’ll understand why I fled so haphazardly once she sees it.”

“I highly doubt that,” Maedhros chortled, “but I will, of course, try. We should spend a day or two with them before we go back home, how about that? I shall suffer the mockery of your siblings with equanimity.” “My brave, slightly drunk, very beautiful, utterly bewitching hero,” Fingon laughed, wrapped his arm around Maedhros’s slender shoulder, and promptly dozed off himself.

Thank you so much for reading <3

-> Masterlist for November (by @cilil)

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #November #Nanowrimo2023 #Russingon #Maedhros #Fingon #Maedhros x Fingon #Modern!AU #Card AU #with art #the-red-butterfly #Rituals #Traditions #fluff

[astral-aromance]

Local gremlin throws up some art after 34 years of silence.

This is a long forgotten piece I just finished today and it is dedicated to @trans-noldor ♡

#the silmarillion #jrr tolkien #silmart #tolkien art #tolkien #my art #trans maedhros #maedhros #fingon #gil galad #russingon #lgbtolkien #trans tolkien #family fluff time

[awkwardkindatries]

Tolkien holiday List Day Two

Fingon/Reader : Santas Elves

To say Fingon was a playful lover, if not a bit mischievous, would be a substantial understatement. As a matter of fact, You could say that it has seen a sharp increase ever since you told him about all of the human customs around the holidays. His favorite, in particular, was of a smaller race of fae supposedly leaving little gifts and trinkets about for people who have otherwise been kind and relatively charitable to those around them. He understood perfectly well that this was but a children's tale, but it sure wouldn't stop him from partaking in your peoples' adorable customs. 

He soon found himself In full swing of the holidays, decorating the halls of your home with full homemade garlands, bells, and ribbons adorning doorways and windows, hell, even a sprig or two of mistletoe hidden within the walls. The most fun he had, though, was found in acquiring and hiding his neatly wrapped gifts for you to find. Some of his hiding spots were in the most obvious of places, such as left on the bed, openings in doorways, and even on the front steps of your abode. The last of which was a direct cause of many of your “almost injuries” as you'd stumble down the stairs in a vain attempt to avoid stepping on them. 

Others, however, He had made a great effort to hide much better, leaving little written notes and riddles for you to make a game of it. These gifts you enjoyed the most, as they had given you something more pleasant to occupy your day with. His gifts ranged from little boxes of candy and sweets to intricately made jewelry and trinkets. 

The best thing to him about this time of year would definitely be seeing the overwhelming look of joy in your eyes every time you happened upon one of his gifts, followed by many thanks. Of course, he denied giving you these things, chalking it up to those mischievous little faes rewarding you for being as extraordinary as you are. 

You could imagine his surprise when one day, towards the end of your holidays, a neatly wrapped little package makes its way onto his work desk. A gentle smile graces his features as he puts great care into unwrapping the tiny twine bow. As he pulled the paper free from the box and popped it open, he couldn't help his uncontrollable laughter as he looked inside. Within its confines is a singular piece of coal with a little note obviously written in your hand. 

“The little Fae do not appreciate your blame during the holidays.”

#fingon #fingon x reader #fingon/reader #silm #silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #fluff #holiday event

[last-capy-hupping]

I’ll Make a Path to the Rainbow’s End, my entry for @officialtolkiensecretsanta 2022 is completed! Chapters 2 and 3 Below!

Giftee to be revealed in December 24, 2022!

#silmarillion #maedhros #fingon #russingon #fanfic #gil galad russingonion #ereinion gil galad #trans fingon #trans pregnancy #trans male character #trans tolkien #nsft #shameless smut #soft family fluff #dads having fun while the baby sleeps #gil gadaddy #gil-galad the seal guardian #hithlum #himring #dor-lómin

[doodle-pops]

Kissing Fingon Would Include...

Request: Mina darling!! I have a request for you if you don't mind ♥️ Maybe Fingon kissing headcanons? 👀 - @edensrose

A/N: Choosing my favourite character and then my favourite activity is a deadly combination.

᯽ Mr. Prince Charming is here to swoon and treat you in a kaleidoscope of kisses because you deserve them and he simply loves kissing you—seriously, it’s a task to keep his hands to himself when he’s around you.

᯽ Fingon kisses are a mix of playful, cheeky, sweet and sensual. There are days when he is in his light and bubbly mood which leads to more fairytale kisses. The type to make butterflies erupt from the pit of your stomach and tingles travel throughout your entire body.

᯽ He adores lifting and spinning you around when kissing. Sometimes, he’ll even dip you and then rub noses against each other before it turns into him playfully biting and tickling you. Seeing you in festive glee whenever he kisses you brings light to his soul.

᯽ You are kissed for everything you do, for breathing, for talking, for just walking into the room for the tenth time in the day. It doesn’t matter, once he can plant his lips on you, he’s going to try.

᯽ Even when you are greeting or departing, the first and last thing you both share is a kiss. And because he’s the ever so gentleman, he presses a kiss to your wrist while making eye contact to witness you blushing.

᯽ Your face isn’t the only place he lives to kiss. Nowhere goes without kisses. Your cheeks, hands, shoulders, arms, wrist, fingers, neck, you name it. There’s this soft yet charming look on his face behind each kiss while he whispers little phrases and words of affirmation after each.

᯽ Fingon is respectful with his kisses and always tells you to let him know if you're becoming uncomfortable with the intensity or if he's moving too fast. The rate of the kiss all depends on you.

᯽ He doesn’t have any shame when it comes to delivering all his affections in public, only backing off if it makes you uncomfortable. If it doesn’t, then expect him to pull you aside in the middle of a festival to share some kisses while making some comment about his lips being lonely with a cheeky grin and heading off to hide in a vacant room in the palace.

᯽ In public, Fingon will shoot air kisses to you for the fun of it, and you bet he’s dramatic with it. Winking and puffing his lips up as he sends you a kiss or multiple, only to press your returning kisses to his heart in response.

᯽ More sensual interactions would be saved for private. Behind closed doors is where his kisses escalate and become more provocative. His touches may increase as well. There are times his hands are cupping your cheeks or the nape of your neck or your waist and travel to rest at the top of your butt. If you’re okay with it, they may wonder lower.

᯽ The kisses are longer and filled with greater passion and you can feel it in his eagerness and every breath he takes. The way his hands pull your body in closer, wanting to feel your heartbeat and pulse racing as he adds vigour to the kiss.

᯽ At the same time, they are also slow because he wants you to feel every ounce of emotion, he’s directing towards you. The raw passion and adoration he holds sincerely. He doesn’t stop giving you little praises in between your kisses.

᯽ As the kiss progresses, Fingon may grow extra bold and press you against a wall or sofa, trapping you between the object and his body. That way, you can feel the outline of his body to increase the heat.

᯽ He likes to keep you trapped there for most of the heated kiss, wanting to listen to your tiny gasps and breathless moans, or how he's teasing you too much.

᯽ Most of the time, your kisses take place while cuddling which gives him the perfect advantage to deliver all those special attacks since you are both relaxed.

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner

#fingon x reader #fingon headcanon #fingon imagine #fingon scenario #fingon fluff #fingon #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion headcanon #silmarillion fluff #silmarillion scenario #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanon #middle earth fluff #middle earth scenario #house of fingolfin #findekano #findekáno #findekano astaldo #x reader insert #x reader fluff #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[ur-local-ghostie]

Maedhros and Fingon

TW: general angst and recovery after Angband(i really don’t think there’s anything else but please let me know if i should add anything)

Characters: (I use their Quenyan names so i made a short list of whose in here so it’s not yk too confusing)

Findekano— Fingon, also called Kano or Finno (only by Maedhros though), is generally a sweetheart  

Neylafinwe– Maedhros// Neylo, lefthanded because he doesn't have a right (hand), is kind of done with life, Finno’s half-cousin

Moriwfinwe– Caranthir the Dark (his dad thought he was being funny ok but my boy took it way too seriously), anger issues, middle child, the drama 

Finedekano rapped lightly on the wooden door before opening it after a slight struggle. His arms were full of books. 

“Neylo? Are you awake? I brought you some–” he stopped short, his sentence trailing off as he took in the sight in front of him, lips parting slightly in shock. 

For there stood Neylo, swaying on his bare feet. The sunlight coming through the window flung freckles of gold across the bridge of his nose, in sharp contrast to his pale–almost translucent– skin. His fists were clenched at his sides and he spat out a single bitter word. 

“U-bedo.” Shut up. 

But not at the newcomer. 

The object of Neylo’s ire happened to be Morifinwe. The fourth son of Feanor. Morifinwe scowled at his brother, crossing his arms, anger flushing his fair face. 

All this Kano saw in a moment’s glance. And then the books fell from his hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud as he lept across the room. He reached Neylo just as the elf slumped, his green eyes glazing over. 

“Neylo? Neylo!” 

There was no answer. Kano carefully lifted Neylo’s bandaged arm and placed it over his own shoulder, supporting the elf’s limp body. 

Neylo’s head sagged against him, pieces of choppy red hair falling into his line of vision. 

 An aching throb filled Kano’s lungs. 

He turned on Neylo’s brother, taking a deep breath to keep from losing his temper at the younger elf, who had watched Neylo fall with vague interest and made no move to help. 

“Mori. What happened? Why was he out of bed? You know the healers said he has not fully healed yet.” 

Mori turned his cool gaze on the hand around Neylo’s waist and the other on his arm. He arched an eyebrow. “I did not know Neylo was your wife, Lord Kano.” 

Kano flushed and he exhaled sharply, momentarily at a loss for words. He had forgotten exactly how biting Mori’s words could be. “For your sake and that of your brother’s, it mayhaps is best for you to leave,” he murmured. 

Mori gave him a cold smile. “And leave you two alone?” 

Kano did his best to resist the urge to scream, instead shooting the insufferable elf a withering glance and with slow footsteps, half-carried Neylo back to the bed. He carefully lay the elf down, trying to ignore Mori’s soft snickering in the background. 

His brow furrowed as Neylo’s head rolled back onto the pillow, the golden light catching on the newly-healed scars that stretched across his face. 

Kano drew the blankets over his cousin, covering the stump of Neylo’s bandaged hand. Yet Kano did not move and remained standing over Neylo, indecision and pain warring inside him. Then, with a tentative hand, he brushed a strand of red hair out of his cousin’s face. 

“I did not think he would collapse like that,” Mori muttered beside Kano, making the elf jump a little. He held the books Kano had dropped.

Kano gave him a sideways glance. Mori’s dark head was bowed, but the hands clutching the books were strained, the nails biting into the covers. 

“What did you say to him, Mori?” 

Mori shrugged. “I told him that he lost a hand, not a leg. He should be walking again by now.” 

A shudder of anger passed through Kano and he barely stopped himself from shaking the young elf. His tone, however, was measured as he responded. “You do not know what evil Neylo has suffered. Mayhaps you should keep that in mind.” 

Mori stiffened. “I do not know?” he whispered to himself. Then louder, “Very well, lord. Here are your books. Since you seem to know so much more about my brother than I do, I will leave you to watch over him.” 

Dropping the books onto the floor, Mori stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Kano stifled a curse and moved to follow him before he did something rash. 

“--Finno?” the raspy question and old nickname halted Kano in midstep. He turned, dropping to his knees beside the bed. 

“Neylo! Are you alright?” 

Neylo pushed himself upright, his gaze wandering. “What– what was that?” 

Kano sat on the edge of the bed next to him. Grabbing an extra blanket, he draped it over Neylo’s shoulders like a cloak. 

 “Do not worry about it. ‘Twas nothing.” 

#maedhros #silmarillion #caranthir #fingon #finno #silmarillion fanfic #fluff #lotr #tolkien #angband #the silmarillion #russingon #but platonic #silm #silm trash #silm fic #silm fandom #j r r tolkien #jrrt #middle earth #silm crack #the silm fandom #i keep adding tags #pay attention to me #*waves hand* #yeah i exist

[lamemaster]

A Knight For Rescue

Pairing: Fingon x Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: read to find :)))

AN: I love this trope but can you blame me? Posting before work for that zen mindset.

As you busied yourself with packing, Fingon found himself trying to come up with excuses to stall your departure. He approached you with a playful smile, trying to hide his longing beneath a facade of cheerfulness. "Darling," he began, his voice filled with a hint of mischief, "I think I just saw a spider in the kitchen. It's probably plotting to take over the whole house. We should investigate and save our kingdom before you leave."

You chuckled at his adorable attempt to delay your departure. "Fingon, there are no spiders plotting against us. Besides, I have everything packed and ready to go," you replied, your eyes filled with affection for your doting husband.

Undeterred, Fingon continued his quest to prolong your time together. "Well, I suppose I could use some help watering the plants. They'll miss you terribly, you know. I'll need an extra set of hands to make sure they stay green and healthy," he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at your husband's another attempt. "That's very thoughtful of you, my love, but I'm sure the plants will be just fine. Besides, you'll have plenty of time to take care of them while I'm away," you reassured him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. Ignoring the whine that followed your dismissal.

Fingon sighed, a mixture of love and longing in his voice. "I know, but I'll miss you terribly. The days seem longer and the nights colder when you're not here. Promise me you'll come back soon," he pleaded, his gaze fixed on you. "If you don't, I might just wither away with these plants and the spider,"shaking your head, you put your hand in Fingon's.

"I promise I will here right on the mark of 2 weeks," Fingon nods with a defeated sigh. "I will come looking for you if you don't return," Fingon states with a faux serious look. "With that settled I will be at ease just in case I do need a knight to rescue me from my parent's house." You try to console your husband, who you know will show up right before the 2-week mark and claim have forgotten the rescue time period.

But in all fairness, you will look forward to him showing up and so will your parents who always prepare an extra meal for their son-in-law.

So you kiss your husband goodbye for two weeks. Fingon holds your hand in his and rests his head on your shoulder as you make your way to your mare. Promises of writing odes of love and letters full of longing are made even when both of you are acutely that you will be seeing him in less than three days. Three days has been the limit for the past decade.

And so it came to be that your beloved husband showed up on the 3rd evening of your stay at your parent's home. The notes of his harp were the sign of his arrival on your doorstep.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #fingon x reader #fingon #fluff #foreshadowing heehe

[sallysavestheday]

A Russingon Retrospective

Maedhros! Fingon! All the angst and tenderness and bitterness and the wasted potential! I've been in the mood to try some new things with them recently, which was a reason to look back at the overall arc of my Russingon fics and see what might be a good addition. I've written more of them than I'd realized...if you're in a Russingon mood, here's a tasty sampler (newest to oldest, a mix of angst and humor and horror and fluff, all canon-compliant or canon-adjacent):

The Marriage of True Minds (M: 1,900 words). Maedhros and Fingon experiment with ósanwë's many uses and permutations. Spicy.

The Region Cloud Hath Mask'd Him From Me Now (T: 2,000 words). Misty meetings (and missed meetings). Bring tissues.

In These Altered States, Rejoice (T: 1,300 words). Reborn Maedhros and Fingon adjust to their new lives.

Between the Shadow and the Soul (M: 600 words). Fingon is tired of waiting for Maedhros to make a move, and makes his own.

Hyemation (T: 500 words). Fingon finds some closure after the Helcaraxë by wintering over at Himring with Maedhros.

Tender Morsels (M: 600 words). Horror-ish. They love each other, but they are monstrous. Cannibalism, voluntary mutilation. Mind the tags.

Hymn/Dirge (T: 350 words). It is Lalwen who marries them.

Full Disclosure (T: 2,000 words). Epistolary commentary on Finrod's relations with the many peoples of Beleriand. Mildly spicy humor.

All The Way Home We'll Be Warm (T: 1,100 words). Maedhros finds Hurin annoying until he solves the problem of how to make Fingon happy when visiting Himring in the winter. Humor.

A Thousand Years and More (T: 600 words). Fingon doesn't adjust well to being reborn without Maedhros.

The Quality of Mercy is Not Strained (T: 600 words). Fingon tries to play word games with Mandos around the concept of Doom. He is not successful.

Helcaraxë (T: 300 words). Fingon's thoughts on ice (and Ice). Pairs nicely with Hyemation.

Long-Remembered, Long-Imagined Touch (T: 350 words). Reborn Fingon is disappointed in his new hands.

And a Voice Answering Called to Him (T: 800 words). Maedhros and Fingon at Fingolfin's coronation.

Enjoy!

#my fics #fic recs #maedhros #fingon #russingon

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Jealousy & Confession - Maedhros x Fingon

Dear anon, it's my joy and pleasure to give you this sweet(ish) slice of Russingon!

They truly are the best! I love them so much! <3

Words: 1 070

Characters: Maedhros x Fingon

Warnings: A hint of sadness, a bit of obsession, a confession, and yes, they're still half-cousins :D

Gritting his teeth, Maedhros swallowed a few times to dislodge the lump of bad conscience in his throat.

He had no right to be doing this, and if anyone was to catch him—lurking around behind corners and nearly folding himself in half to keep his prodigious height from drawing too much attention—he would have been hard-pressed to find a reasonable explanation or excuse for his current shameful behaviour.

It had all started, a few weeks ago, with an innocent crush which had soon devolved into outright obsession; Fingon—the object of Maedhros’s single-minded preoccupation—had only had to bat those dense, dark lashes at him while laughing at an honestly rather mediocre joke for the pale, freckled ginger to completely lose his mind.

In his head, he could hear Maglor drawling that this was all just a consequence of his genetical make-up and unusual upbringing, and that thought alone made Maedhros clam up and grit his teeth petulantly.

Of course, his father was known for being inclined towards mad fixations, and Maedhros had spent a shocking amount of time denying his own needs and desires to keep an eye on his younger siblings instead, but he was not about to readily admit that he might have sustained any kind of emotional or psychological damage from these circumstances.

So what if Fingon’s open smile and the way he consistently seemed to “accidentally” touch Maedhros when they spoke drove bashful heat into his hollow cheeks and made his heart beat faster with helpless agitation?

It didn’t mean that there was necessarily something wrong with him.

Hiding behind a beautifully carved column to watch Fingon talk to a young girl, on the other hand, was so irrefutably an indication of onsetting madness that even Maedhros could not explain it away.

Indeed, he was painfully aware of just how insane and worrisome his behaviour was for—even if he was special to Maedhros in every way—Fingon was kind and charming to every person he met, be they a random stranger or a family friend.

Thus, it was entirely unreasonable to feel as if every smile that was graciously bestowed upon another had been stolen from Maedhros who was far from destitute to begin with; he had six brothers, doting parents, and many friends.

So how could it be that he so yearned to bathe in Fingon’s benevolent attention as if he was gilded and hallowed by every sweet word and amused chuckle?

When the girl lifted her hand to push back one of Fingon’s braids, Maedhros growled.

As that feral, rumbling sound echoed through the hollow, aching cavity of his chest, the tall redhead was at last torn from his frenzy. Shame washed through him, hot and healing.

At last, he averted his eyes to slink away and seek refuge and solace beside a remote, forgotten fountain he had loved since his earliest childhood. Nobody would find him there, and he’d be free to bask in his own misery and self-reproach in relative peace.

Cursing himself bitterly for so unreasonably growing possessive and jealous, he hastened away.

“Huh?!”

Upon hearing the startled sound escaping the soft, rosy mouth of his friend, Fingon turned around instinctively to scan their surroundings.

“What is it?” he asked tensely—even though he had tried to arrange everything so that nobody would notice his absence, he could never be entirely sure that none of his younger siblings or cousins had followed him in pursuit of a tasteless, puerile practical joke.

“Nothing,” she chuckled, embarrassed by her nervous reaction. “I thought I had seen a flash of copper and gold in the distance, but it’s gone. Surely, it was but the light dancing on the columns. Do not try to change the subject, friend! You know you have to talk to him sooner or later! Just confess your feelings, you’ll feel better afterwards, no matter what his answer will be!”

Nodding unconvincedly, Fingon rose to his full height and squared his shoulders—he was no coward, and he agreed that he could not go on like this.

His every waking moment was consumed by intrusive thoughts about the gleaming eyes and alluring smile of one he facetiously called “friend”, and his nights were all the more upsetting as his mind painted pictures of puzzling promiscuity that haunted him well beyond the borders of Irmo’s realm.

“Go!” the girl cheered and gave him a gentle push.

Usually, finding Maedhros—tall as a tree and thrice as charming, may Yavanna forgive him—was not a difficult feat, but Fingon had to visit many a spot he knew to be amongst his friend’s favourites before he finally stumbled upon the long-limbed beauty, curled up on himself by a defunct fountain.

“Hi! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! How are you?” he chirped, hearing himself how shrill and breathless his voice sounded.

“Oh!” Maedhros looked up in surprise, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously almost at once. “I would not have expected you to seek me out…”

“I need to talk to you,” Fingon burst out, and his heart sank when he saw Maedhros’s face melt into an impassive, almost hostile mask that was so unlike the beautifully vulnerable flush he had come to love.

“Me? I’m sure there are plenty of other people, much lovelier than I am, you could be conversing with,” Maedhros grumbled, burying his face against his updrawn knees as the bitter, accusatory tone of his voice hit him.

“There is none lovelier than you,” Fingon whispered. “And I’d rather sit in silence by your side than listen to the most skilled orator to have ever been sung into existence…”

Slivers of silver emerged like crescent moons above bony knees, and Fingon dropped to the ground to clasp those slender, long-fingered hands in his own.

“I cherish our friendship, please believe me, but I must confess how much deeper my feelings run than mere amicable affection, lest I run mad with longing…”

“I—you—but…the girl?” Maedhros stammered, unheedful of the dreadful confession he was making.

“What girl? There are no girls,” Fingon laughed, kissing Maedhros’s tense, white knuckles in an expression of exuberant joy. “There is only you.”

And, because he was indeed not the most gifted or eloquent creation to have ever existed, Maedhros surged forward to capture Fingon’s smiling mouth in a searing kiss in lieu of a formal acceptance of his much-yearned-for, miraculous suit.

@fellowshipofthefics here's another one for this month!

No monthly challenge would be complete without these two!

Lots of love and well-wishes!

-> Masterlist

#og post #Dark Romance Prompts #Sweet and Spicy Bingo #Sweet #Fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #jrrt #Tolkien fanfiction #Jealousy #Confession #Russingon #Maedhros x Fingon #Maedhros #Fingon #tiny bit sad #fluff

[arafinweanappreciation]

I hope this doesn't annoy you but I saw your post about Finarfin interacting with his babies like they're small adults and became obsessed with it (change my life so much bro). I hope you don't mind but I want to ask for more fluff/headcanons about the House of Finarfin, especially with the fact that you went with the Orodreth-son-of-Angrod (I love that shit) so now I am desperate for more.

ajsldkjh thanks???? also don't worry. i don't get anywhere near enough asks for them to be annoying lol

Olwe lovingly handcrafted a beautiful cradle for his great-grandchild but it basically never gets used because Orodreth is constantly either being held by someone or in a sling on someone's chest

Finrod has a particular tendency to steal him for hours at a time. it's his first nibling and he's a little excited. Angrod and Edalote have trouble getting him back sometimes

"i need him back, it's time for him to have a bath" "i can do it" "give me my son back ingoldo" "would you deprive him of quality time with his favorite uncle?????? 🥺" "favorite? he can't even walk yet-"

i would say that Earwen forced her sons to take their little sister with them everywhere when they were younger but in reality they willingly toted her around all the time. sometimes to activities (e.g. hunting) that their parents would prefer she didn't participate in just yet *cough cough* AEGNOR *cough*

Finrod is in fact Galadriel's favorite brother most of the time but if anyone tells him this she will Stab them

Finrod might be more nerd than jock but if anyone makes fun of him over this they will face his siblings' wrath because they're the only ones allowed to do that, of course. go after Turgon all you want tho (lying. you will still get beat up)

tbh the Arafinwean household just wasn't that loud growing up, but there's a still a distinct difference between quiet time silence and mischief silence (TM). finarfin can detect it in approximately 0.3 seconds. still not fast enough sometimes

that first part doesn't hold up in beleriand. Finduilas has LUNGS and she considers it her Eru-given obligation to use them. Fingon thinks it's cute. he isn't the one raising her

one of the reasons Angrod and Aegnor like hanging out with Fingon when they're younger is bc he's older than Finrod and can therefore override his "safety concerns," whatever that means lol. it's the cousin equivalent of knowing mom will say no and going to ask dad instead

Galadriel is the cool aunt who enjoys spoiling Orodreth and later Finduilas whenever possible. like okay yeah maybe her parents don't want her going down to ivrin by herself yet or whatever but how much could it hurt really???

after she has Celebrian she realizes she might have a few apologies to make. still not very many. they asked her to babysit they trusted her to make decisions at their own risk.

prank wars with the nolofinweans

just. consider eldarin prank wars. they could last for centuries

#finrod felagund #finrod #silm #silmarillion #finduilas #angrod #orodreth #aegnor #finarfin #earwen #thanks for the ask!

[zealouswerewolfcollector]

My 2023 Fic List

I posted 78,856 words this year! It might not seem much, but it's a record for me. So here's the list of my 2023 works sorted by date.

Four Ficlets

Written for the SWG server's instadrabbling challenge - Elwing and Idril's First Meeting (124 words, G), Elwing and the Silmaril (76 words, T), Gil-galad and Cirdan Clean Up After the Kinslaying (228 words, T), Ancalagon's Death (106 words, G)

Gifts and Favors and a Trip (3560 words, M, Maedhros/Fingon)

My 2023 entry for My Slashy Valentine. A bit of angst, a bit of sexual tension, lots of fluff and a great deal of pining. Idiots to lovers.

Angsty Ficlet (792 words, G, Maedhros & Maglor)

Maedhros wakes up in the middle of the night, panicking for reasons unknown to himself. Maglor helps. An angsty ficlet with a little twist in the end.

Alone in the Unknown (4752 words, T, Maedhros & Maglor)

The latest part of my canon divergence AU. Maglor and Maedhros wander all alone - Maedhros nearly catatonic and Maglor trying in vain to reach him. The angstiest thing I've ever written.

Helcaraxë Cannibalism Ficlet (500 words, T, warning for cannibalism and character death)

Fingon doesn't want his body to be consumed after his death.

Maiar Hate This Simple Trick (2234 words, T, background Celebrimbor/Narvi and Galadriel/Celeborn)

My entry for Tolkien Remix 2023 is based on @elentarial's Desperation and Defeat. A series of letters between the main figures of the Second Age, trying to solve the mystery of Annatar running away from Eregion. Humor.

Proxy (5912 words, E, Maedhros/Fingon, Maedhros/Maglor, warning for dubious consent and unhealthy relationships)

Maedhros's love for Maglor is unrequited, but luckily for Maedhros, Fingon is hopelessly in love with him and somewhat resembles Maglor. A terrible love triangle between three terrible people. A deviation from my usual themes and characterization (and ratings), but the prompt in the kinkmeme spoke to me. I wrote almost 6k in a couple of days, which is a rarity for me.

Orodreth's Letter to Fingon (307 words, G)

Orodreth does everything he can to eviscerate Fingon in his letter of refusal concerning the Union of Maedhros.

Maedhros and Fingon Talk Cannibalism (247 words, T, warning for cannibalism and self-cannibalism mentions)

Another cannibalism snippet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Maedhros and Fingon share their experiences with the subject in a light-hearted tone a little inappropriate for the discussion.

Lady Makalaurë Fëanáriel Dying of Poison, Late Second Age, Artist Unknown (8671 words, T, past fem!Maglor/Maglor's wife, warning for death and suicide mentions)

One of my two fics for TRSB 2023. Based on @independence1776's edit. In her space wanderings, fem!Maglor comes across a planet and finds out things that force her to return to Eldarin civilization. I always wanted to write a sci-fi AU, and I'm really glad I got to do it.

Now a Quill, Now a Sword (11817 words, T, Maedhros/Fingon, warning for character death and implied suicide)

My second TRSB fic, written in collaboration with @melestasflight. See their beautiful art here. It's a canon-compliant fic (with a bit of post-canon at the end) that tells the story of Maedhros and Fingon's relationship from the beginning to the end.

Two Ficlets

In this one (735 words, T), Fingolfin and Fingon discuss if Maedhros can be trusted. In it's companion (1082 words, T), Fingon and Maedhros talk about the same subject.

The Hunters (2016 words, E, fem!Maedhros/Aredhel)

Another kinkmeme fill. Baby's first PWP. (Proxy doesn't count. It has a plot and I tried to make the sex horrible.) Aredhel and Maedhros - two princesses of the House of Finwë - are cousins with benefits. I really enjoyed writing it, but I don't know if it's any good because I haven't reread it since posting.

Kaleidoscope (1436 words, M, Fingon/Sons of Feanor - all of them but not at the same time except Amrod and Amras)

Inspired by @melestasflight and @polutrope's The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant but darker in tone. Fingon sleeps with all of the sons of Fëanor. Why? Who knows? Up to interpretation. The fic doesn't make much sense, but I still like it and I'm really glad I wrote it. The third kinkememe fill.

That's all for last year. In general, I'm more happy than not with my writing. Hopefully, it will continue this year.

Thanks to every single person who's read, liked, reblogged, left kudos and comments on my fics. You make me want to keep writing.

#silmarillion #maedhros #fingon #russingon #maglor #tagging the main characters i write about #silm fic #zwc fic #my fic list #i've also been thinking about an original story idea #that dates back to ten years or more

[last-capy-hupping]

Have two chapters of AWY, documenting parts one and two of Solstice Day, which my blorbos have decided is a very important day for smut, fluff, and family drama.

#silmarillion #maedhros #fingon #russingon #fanfic #silm au #modern au #sons of fëanor #nstf #fluff and love #smut #somehow still pining #fur children #nerdanel #celegorm #curufin #amrod and amras #aredhel #fingolfin #anaire #turgon #elenwe #argon