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doodle-pops · 5 months

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Love Languages | Imladris

A/N: You can find the others over here: Feanorians | Gondolin

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` Elrond

• 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Elrond stands out as one of the most supportive individuals in all of Middle Earth, possessing a remarkable ability to lavish you with praise and compliments, capable of brightening even your darkest moments. Whether you're grappling with insecurity, depression, or simply overwhelmed by stress and sadness, Elrond possesses an uncanny knack for choosing the perfect words to convey his emotions and bring comfort and joy into your life. Despite the tumultuous events he has endured, he remains a true inspiration, driven by a fervent desire to prevent you from suffering as he once did. With unwavering determination, he will go to great lengths to bring smiles and laughter to your world.

• 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞: As a busy elf responsible for the administration of Imladris, a role akin to that of a grandparent to all, Elrond is keenly aware of the precious moments that can be lost in the demands of his responsibilities. Consequently, he strives to carve out time amidst his packed schedule to be with you. Whether it's a shared breakfast, a leisurely lunch, a quiet walk, or simply snuggling together, he exerts his utmost effort to ensure your time together is well-spent. On occasion, he may even dedicate an entire day solely for the purpose of being in your company.

• 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭–𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠: As the esteemed Lord of Imladris, Elrond has an abundance of resources at his disposal, and he is more than willing to indulge your desires. Initially, he may not have comprehended the significance of showering a beloved with extravagant or numerous gifts. However, with your presence in his life, he has developed an irresistible urge to provide you with everything and anything you desire, as long as it brings you happiness. Witnessing the satisfaction and delight that lights up your face when he presents you with a new item is a source of immense joy for him, and he is committed to maintaining this gesture of love and affection.

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` Erestor

• 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Erestor, though often reserved and seemingly distant, harbours a deep affection for physical touch, especially when initiated by you. He may appear a tad gruff or out of touch with physical intimacy, but once you draw him into a hug or share a kiss, his heart warms to the gesture. In this regard, he typically defers to you to take the lead in initiating any form of physical closeness. However, there are moments when his mood swings unexpectedly, prompting him to seek your presence and casually drape himself over you when you're in private. He harbours a strong aversion to the thought of someone intruding on your intimate moments, which is why he prefers them to be private.

• 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Erestor's scholarly and advisory background has endowed him with an impressive command of language. His vocabulary is rich, and he strives to employ the most eloquent words when describing your beauty or personality. As a meticulous and directive individual, uplifting your spirits is a profound duty for him. He recognizes that his words can be straightforward, and when he senses you're in a foul mood, he tends to be especially cautious with his choice of words, often opting for physical touch instead. However, on occasions when he indulges in a bit too much wine, he can become quite eloquent and flowery in his expressions, much to your delight.

• 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞: Erestor finds great joy in spending quality time with you, particularly in serene moments where you both relax together. He cherishes the times you lie side by side on the balcony or lounge on comfortable sofas, engrossed in reading. More often than not, he takes the initiative to read to you, his soothing voice creating a tranquil atmosphere that enhances the experience. These moments, where you are entwined in each other's arms with his soothing narration in the background, are the ones he treasures most in your relationship.

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` Elrohir

• 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭–𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠: Elrohir shares many traits with his parents, particularly his father, and he's exceptionally attentive to your preferences. During your cherished moments together, he listens carefully to everything you mention, creating a mental catalogue of your desires. A week later, you'll often find thoughtful gifts waiting on your doorstep, and he'll greet you with a small, contented smile and a slight dip of his head when he sees your happiness. His gifts are meaningful and simple, never extravagant or ostentatious, reflecting the depth of his feelings for you.

• 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Every moment spent with Elrohir is a treasure, and while he may not be as touchy-feely as his brother or mother, he finds great comfort in physical closeness. Simple gestures like holding your hand, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, or tenderly kissing the back of your hand are his way of showing affection. He's a romantic at heart, and his actions reflect this aspect of his personality. He's not one for overt public displays of affection (PDA) and prefers to save heavy kisses and cuddling for private moments behind closed doors. You might be pleasantly surprised by the passionate intensity of his touch when you're alone – longer, more heated kisses, sneakily affectionate pinches and touches, and a tendency to cling to you.

• 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Similar to his father in this regard, Elrohir has a natural way with words. A gentle smile and a few whispered words of love and praise have the power to melt your heart. His words are like a warm, spring sunshine that brightens your aura, making you feel lighter and elated by his expressions of love and compliments. He has a poetic and flowery way with words, and his charisma shines through when he speaks. The sight of his one-sided dimpled smile after he's poured his heart out to you is a sight to behold.

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` Elladan

• 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Elladan is exuberant and unabashed in expressing his love physically. He revels in showering you with affection, from sweet hand-holding to passionate kisses that occasionally earn him a scolding from his father. In private, he becomes an endearing, needy puppy who can't seem to get enough of your touch. He longs to be wrapped up in your embrace, cuddling with you for hours on end. You both enjoy evenings on the balcony, overlooking the valley, intertwined together, savouring those precious moments.

• 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞: Elladan possesses a spontaneous spirit and a yearning for adventure that sets him apart from his brother. He often embarks on orc-hunting expeditions, but when he returns home, he is eager to spend every possible moment with you. Whether you're an outdoor enthusiast or prefer indoor activities, he adapts to your preferences without hesitation. His primary goal is to be near you and witness your smile, leading him to plan a variety of activities to ensure you both have a great time. Even if it involves cosying up by the fireplace and reading to each other, Elladan is more than willing to oblige.

• 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Traveling Middle Earth with his brother, Elladan learns and enthusiastically experiments with various phrases used to express love. These phrases often blend elven and mortal languages, and they can range from charming to surprising to downright flabbergasting. While he may not always grasp the full depth of their hidden meanings, his intentions are rooted in love. His compliments are a delightful blend of sweetness, cheesiness, and warmth, guaranteed to bring a smile to your face.

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frodo-with-glasses · 5 months

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So uh. I might’ve found a pattern here.

From The Fellowship of the Ring, “Three Is Company”:

From The Two Towers, “The Uruk-Hai”:

From The Return of the King, “The Houses of Healing”:

Now I know Tolkien hated allegory. And I know LotR is not a copy-and-paste parable about WWII (which he didn’t fight in) or even WWI (which he did). But the man did see war, and so did people he loved, and he had a non-zero amount of trauma, and some of that is gonna make its way into his writing somehow.

And I think his soul might’ve had something to say about soldiers being forced to walk until they dropped from exhaustion.

#lord of the rings #lotr #honestly i think the first quote is the most chilling in this context??#like the second one pretty clearly portrays the horror of those marches #and the third seems like a realistic best-case scenario: you walk until you drop and then a familiar and beloved voice wakes you up #but the first is?? almost desperately happy?? like he’s reaching so far to say ‘no i swear this traumatic thing could be beautiful and good’#‘it could be good!’#‘IT COULD BE GOOD!! I SWEAR’#‘PLEASE JUST LET ME HAVE THIS’#and you get this sense of desperation #like he wishes a tall and beautiful Elf was there to help him and the other exhausted young men up when they stumbled and fell #i dunno if i’m making any sense but it kinda makes my heart hurt #i feel like i’m peeking into an open wound in this man’s soul

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 2 months

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i just took a shower and now i cant stop thinking about moth boy loving showers

like, poor boy got so upset when he realised he was too big to join you in he bath like he's seen ajax doing from the back of his mind, so he's ecstatic when he finds out your shower is just big enough for the both of you!

he'd definitely love the feeling of the warm water running down his hair and wings, i headcanon that he's designed to spend long periods of time underwater due to ajax's hydro vision so the feeling of water rushing over him is a familiar feeling that he relishes in when it's not happening during battle until he gets shampoo in his eye

big moth man purring while getting his floof dried with the warm hair dryer aadhgfh my heart <3333

(he would also probably try to decipher the "ruins and symbols" that you make with your stray hairs on the shower wall)

dearest lord of moth, please take my thoughts and make something of them (if you have the time lol) 🙏

*furiously takes notes* yes yes please continue

listen listen LISTEN. when Foul Legacy is in the shower and he feels the water raining down and running over him, he does a happy little wing flutter with a delighted chirp, shaking himself so his wings don't become too waterlogged. he loooooves watching you wash your hair too, all the suds and tiny bubbles the shampoo makes look so fluffy, and if he's feeling brave he'll try to scritch your scalp with his claws to help you out. genuinely, Legacy would stay sitting in the shower for hours if it didn't rack up your water bill, but after a while he'll reluctantly get out because he remembers that hot water costs money with his vague knowledge of how Childe deals with expenses and bills- not before turning off the shower and shaking any excess water off, of course

you're always waiting for him with the hairdryer in hand, gesturing for him to sit in front of you with a soft laugh. you gently pat his shoulder when you turn on the hairdryer- neither of you like the loud sound it makes- feeling him stiffen before relaxing as the warm air begins seeping into his bones. his hair and fluff are always especially poofy and soft after being dried, and Legacy just melts more and more the longer you work, on the verge of falling over once you turn the hairdryer off. he lets out small, drowsy chitters when you brush his fur and hair, making sure there aren't any mats or tangles and also that your fluffy Abyss monster doesn't dissolve into a pile of goo while you're at it. only when he's perfectly dry do you nudge his shoulder again, watching him make a beeline for the bed and promptly flop onto the covers, looking at you pleadingly to join him. he's very warm and toasty right now, so he won't need any covers- just you as his pillow, nuzzling against your stomach with a sleepy purr as you stroke his hair to help him fall asleep

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sillylotrpolls · 5 months

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#lotr #lord of the rings #dracula #poll #polls #very plausible scenarios

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madwomansapologist · 10 months

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Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 3 - A finite deal

Navigation | Series Masterlist | AO3

series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

third chapter synopsis: After being bitten by a warg, after almost dying, something changed. Something evolved. Things can't stay the same forever. You just didn't imagine they would change so fast. Or that Thranduil was as bad with goodbyes as you. [3K]

warnings: female!reader. lotr kinda of violence. pre-Smaug. a lot of blood.

glossary: Lossëistar: Ice Mage┆Mithrandir: Grey Pilgrim┆Fovren: Fool┆Maenwë: Clever girl┆Pedig edhellen: Do you speak elvish?┆Dôl gîn lost: Your head is empty┆Qenta Eldalien: History of the Elves┆Novaer: Farewell┆Mellon: Friend

Blood seeped into the wooden flooring. It ran down the table legs, dripped from its corners, and gave a new color to the brow floor. The healer’s hands, crushing seeds and heating saps for the ointment, stained everything with a scarlet mark.

In the corner of the room, frozen in time, Thranduil found himself impotent. There was nothing he could do. Nothing but watch. And so he did.

He saw when the healer ripped the arm of your blood-soaked dress. The Elvenking saw your shoulder ligaments. The chewed meat of your arms. The damaged veins. The unconscious tremors. Thranduil saw your lifeless face, your colorless lips, your paralyzed body.

He took you to a healer, but it's difficult to differentiate it from a slaughterhouse.

Luthien took the warm fabric off your shoulder. The once blue fabrics were now burgundy. She left them aside, holding the bowl with ointment. Without hesitation, Luthien poured the ointment onto the bite.

A convulsion gripped your body. The tremors would knock you off the table if Luthien hadn’t caught you. A pained moan scratched your throat, but your mouth didn’t open to release it. Your eyes moved under closed lids, but you weren’t awake. Even your fingers writhing in agony did nothing but bruise the skin of your own palm.

“What are you doing to her?” The Elvenking screamed, finally able to act.

She took the needle, dipped it in what was left of the ointment, and sewed it to her skin. With each movement, the more you squirmed, but Luthien didn’t give up. “I am saving her, fovren.”

If the Elvenking sought her out, then he must be smart enough to not take offense. Luthien held you in place, sewed you up, cleaned you. When she was done, Luthien wrapped your shoulder in clean bandages.

Thranduil asked, stepping closer. He wished you looked peaceful, but you didn’t. No one could mistake you for someone sleeping. He touched your closed fist, just the tip of his finger sliding over your cold skin. Thranduil didn’t dare to hold you. “When will she wake up?”

The lack of answer shivered him.

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Two days are nothing but a mere blink in the life of an Elve. And for the first time in a long, long time, such a short amount of time seemed endless for Thranduil. Minutes stretched, hours didn’t change, dusk didn’t come and dawn never seemed to approach: Thranduil is patient. He can wait.

Lady Aerin, however, couldn’t afford to be patient. Not anymore.

She always knew you would wake up. Aerin never doubted that. She knows you’re stronger than you look. Not only that: Aerin knows how stubborn you can be. You will die on your own terms. She’s certain of that. Aerin just has to wait.

What she can't do is ignore that the Elvenking is still there. Is to lie to herself that in the next hour he will grow bored and finally travel back home. Is to pretend to not understand that Thranduil cares.

So Aerin wrote for Gandalf.

She wrote about the Elvenking stay at the inn. About that blasted dam. About that look on his face, how his eyes followed you since the moment he saw you. Aerin wrote about the attack. About your condition. Your unconsciousness. And when she finally had courage to do so, Aerin wrote about the warg.

Aerin knew where to address the letter. In her office, preparing the bird to carry her message, if only she’d known what was happening on the other side of the inn Aerin would have added a few lines to the letter. But she didn’t know, and soon the letter that reached Gandalf’s hands was missing substantial information: you had finally awakened.

Scared, aching, somehow still tired: but awake. Your eyes took a while to work, soon you saw the ceiling of your room. You spent a while staring at it, memories caughting up with you. You remembered running down an embankment, wheat leaves tickling your arms, a howl. The warg. You understood why you felt a pressure on your shoulder. And why you smelled like blood.

And despite all those hurtful memories, all the pain you were feeling, a smile still made a way into your face. You survived a warg. How many people can say that? You survived. Somehow you always do that.

The peace of your realization was interrupted when your bedroom door opened. You couldn’t see what was happening, your neck didn’t obey your commands, but you heard the creaking. And you heard Gildor’s voice.

“Master Elrond will surely be grateful, your grace. He already is.” Pretty words, but you could see beyond them. Gildor wasn’t saying what he really wanted. Maybe he too fears being impolite. “But this isn’t your realm. You don’t have any obligation with us. Why take the risk?”

Silence took place over his words. When you thought maybe you were alone again, a velvet voice made a way into your ears. “I’m becoming kind.”

“Annihilating that nest was kind enough, your grace,” said Gildor.

“It wasn’t. It was about pride,” Thranduil’s tone went lower. Like he was putting a lot of effort into talking. “This is about being noble.”

Familiar words. You’ve said something similar before. Another context, another reason for you to speak about kindness and nobility. You don’t know what they are talking about, but it seems important.

Your questioning might have continued, but Gilgor’s surprised gasp caught your attention. Not just yours, but Thranduil’s as well.

“Maenwë,” he whispered. It felt just like velvet.

“Still don’t know that one”, your own voice surprised you. It wasn’t the same anymore. It was tiring, rough, hoarse. So different from your usual playful, light tone. It scratched your throat.

“Clever.” Thranduil walked across the room, never taking his eyes off yours. Gildor was no more there. The discussion no longer existed. The world could have burned to ashes and the ashes scattered by the wind and he wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing existed to Thranduil, nothing but your uneasy eyes. “It means clever.”

You laughed. Or you tried, since the pain it caused made you cough. What just hurted you more. “Of course it means,” you murmured. “I still have an arm, right?”

“You... You do, maenwë. You do not feel it?” Thranduil somehow remembered that Gildor was there. “Find Luthien.”

You looked at your shoulder again. You forced your other arm to pull the blanket off your torso. Nothing was missing. “Just to be sure,” you responded. You leaned on the bed, trying to sit up.

Thranduil understood your intentions. He touched your arm, cold fingers raising goosebumps on your skin. “Stay,” Thranduil whispered. You didn’t have enough energy to disagree. “How does it feel?”

“I’ve been through worse,” you smirked. But as your words faded away, the truth escaped. “I thought I was dying.”

“You slept for two days.” You thought it was his way to say: ‘So did I’.

Thranduil’s hands found something on your bedside table. You couldn’t see what he was doing, your neck wasn’t cooperating, but you heard water splashing. When his hands returned to your field of vision, you saw a glass of water. “I don’t think I can hold it.”

Thranduil set the glass on the bedside table and moved closer. You could feel his heat. The ghost of his touch still linger on your arm. “Can I?”

Without really understanding what he meant, you nodded.

Thranduil lowered the blanket to your waist. You felt his hand slide across the mattress and fit behind your back. His palm heated your sore skin. You lifted your head when he tried to place his other hand beneath it. Calmly, very carefully, Thranduil helped you to sit down.

“Your skin is so warm,” the Elvenking murmured. Thranduil was talking more to himself than to you. He touched your forehead, his contact lasted for a few seconds. You leaned unconsciously against his touch. “But not feverish.”

You sighed. Everything aches. Every single part of your body. But when Thranduil touched you… It felt a little bit better. Just a little bit.

Then he grabbed the glass and brought it close to your face. You could feel your body heating. Be helped to drink a glass of water. There was something so intimal about it. So domestic. To help someone conclude such a simple, mundane task. And to do it simply because you’re close enough to.

The world is a horrible place. So ill-formulated, uneven, indifferent. It’s a place filled with horrible creatures, corrupted humans, malevolent diseases. It’s a place where an inevitable darkness hides in the light, where evil deceives the good, where innocent lives perish simply because that’s how it is. That's how the world moves on, in its wicked way.

But the world is also the only place where you can smell the rain. Where you can eat sweet strawberries. Where you can feel leaves tickling your skin. Where you can dance. Where you can quench the thirst of those who need help.

You leaned in, extinguishing the distance, silently allowing him to help you. Allowing a king to serve you. Your lips embraced the glass, and Thranduil tilted it calmly. You didn’t even know you needed water that bad.

“Thank you, your grace” you whispered. It was like the world had slowed down. You should be worried. You should be freaking out about your shoulder, about your recovery, about everything. But all you can do is watch Thranduil putting the glass on the bedside table.

“You should not thank me,” Thranduil’s words made you blink. “I hope one day you can forgive me, maenwë. You gave me your trust, and I couldn't defend you.”

You chuckle. It burned your throat, but you were getting used to the pain. “I am pretty sure you killed a warg.”

“Not before it hurted you.”

Thranduil blamed himself. He blames himself for not being able to protect you, someone he knew for a few days. Not even a week has passed since you both first met. ‘You slept for two days.’ Did he really think you would die? Did he think you wouldn’t awake? How was it to spend two days thinking that maybe someone would die because you couldn’t protect them?

That was serious. A king is apologizing to you, hoping you could forgive him some day, because he really thought you were about to die. Thranduil killed a warg, found someone to heal you, but for him it wasn't enough. You guess you would feel the same in his place.

Understanding where his blame comes from, but also not thinking his feelings coincide with the truth, you search for a way to make him better. “Teach me Elvish,” you said.

“What?”

“Teach me Elvish and I shall forgive you.” With a lot of effort, you were able to move your good arm and reach out to him. You heard steps from the hallway, people were coming to see you. “And a new dress. I have a preference for violet.”

Thranduil stared at your hand. He hesitated. Looking again into your eyes, he saw no trace of anger. Of hate. Of regret. You didn’t blame him. You really didn’t.

Thranduil held your hand, gently so as to not hurt you, and took a deep breath. “Deal.”

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Your routine for the next few days was simple. Someone brings you food when it's time to eat, Aerin helps you with your bath after lunch, Luthien examines you every morning. And for the rest of the day… you do nothing on your bed.

You knew Luthien before, but never really stopped to talk to her. Now, without further choice, you discovered that she’s a great healer and the best gossip girl ever. With stories about people that you don’t know and that she doesn't really care about, Luthien entertains you.

And you are really grateful that she does that. Because for the rest of your day, you have nothing else to do.

You can’t read, as your head throb still. Luthien said that you probably fell on a stone. Nothing to be worried about, but it needs time to recover. And walking requires a gigantic effort. Which means you can go out looking for someone to talk to.

After the third day, even sleep was boring. Who could ever imagine you would feel tired of napping? Not you. It would’ve been your paradise a week ago. But now that you’re leaving your old dream of having nothing to do, you realize that it means only having the company of your bed and your window. A boring limbo. Except for the nights.

“Pedig,” repeated Thranduil. This time he slowed down. “Edhellen.”

Sitting in an armchair in front of your bed, Thranduil had two books in his hand. Reading from one of them, his velvet voice never was so treacherous. It’s harder to understand his accent than from the elves of Rivendell.

You took a deep breath. “Pedi edellen.”

“One more time,” the Elvenking encouraged you. “Pedig edhellen.”

Your face was already burning. You didn’t imagine it was so embarrassing to barely learn a language in front of someone. Or maybe you did. A few people have tried to teach you elvish, and you never stood still long enough to even the most delusional person consider you had a lesson. “Pedig… edhellen.”

“I knew you had it in you,” Thranduil’s words were pretty, but you saw his smile turn into a smirk. Thranduil was amused by your difficulty.

“Don’t laugh at me,” if your arm wasn’t unusable you would’ve thrown a pillow at him. Fortunately. What happens to someone that throws a pillow at a king? “What does it mean?”

“‘Do you speak Elvish?’” Thranduil didn’t contain his playful smile.

Those teaching sessions were already routine. Thranduil comes after dinner, and stays until one of you wants to sleep. He usually is the one to say goodbye. There's a sense of freedom that comes at night that no one wants to let go. So, even when you are tired, you try not to show it. Just so it can last a little longer.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes. “Teach me how to swear.”

Thranduil closed the book, the dry thud embarrassed you. “Maenwë,” there it was. The strong accent. It fades when he speaks in common, but it shines again whenever he gets back into his native language. “What will people think?”

You straightened the pillows behind you and clasped your hands in your lap. “Indulge me.”

“As you wish,” Thranduil sighed, but you knew he was entertained. “Dôl gîn lost.”

You wore the bangade, but your wounds no longer bleed. It hurt, but not as much as when you woke up. It was impossible to ignore, you couldn’t hold an apple in your right hand, but it was getting better.

“Dôl gôn lost”, you repeated.

Thranduil stands up and moves towards your bed. “At the first try,” that made you smirk. “What doesn’t that say about you, maenwë?”

You pouted. “That I have a natural talent for linguistics?”

Thranduil held one of the books out to you. “Probably”, the Elvenking confirmed.

It was heavy, old, you could smell the aged pages. Leafing through it, you saw Elvish in golden handwriting. But you also saw your own language on it. On every couple of pages there was different engraving, all so beautiful. You couldn’t control yourself, you needed to bring it to your face and sniff it.

Thranduil swallows hard. “Try reading this once a day,” he told you. Concentrated on analyzing every engraving, you didn’t notice him staring at you. “Is a collection of myths.”

You slid your finger across one of the drawings that caught your eye. Even on dry pages the blond hair is still so alive. “Qenta Eldalien.”

That surprised Thranduil. Maybe you do have, after all, a natural talent. “History of the Elves.” He walked towards the door, a funny feeling came over his face.

“You didn’t tell me,” you shouted when you noticed that he was leaving. Thranduil held the doorknob and turned to you. “What does that mean? ‘Dôl gîn lost’?”

“Your head is empty.” You sighed. Of course he wouldn’t teach you something really bad. “Sleep well, maenwë.”

Instead of sleeping, you spend the night reading.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Warm water trickled down your body. Aerin dipped the sponge in the water before running it over your skin. She runned that soft sponge over your back, cleaning the spots you couldn’t reach.

You couldn't say that everything was back to normal. The bite scar on your shoulder would never go away. The pain when stretching your arm would never leave you. The time spent in bed would never be recovered. You’re not back to normal, but you didn’t want that to happen either.

Fear that nothing will survive. Fear that something will. The change, the new, is terror. The change, the new, is craving. Part of you wish that nothing bad had ever happened to you. The other smiles when waking up every morning. You survived. Nothing will change that.

Watching the golden leaves falling through the cracked window, you had a new experience. Without realizing, you open your mouth and a melody comes out.

Back in your room, wrapped in a warm towel, you noticed something new. As you approached your bed, you couldn’t look away from the fabric stretched over it. Violet. So thin it felt like holding flour. So soft. You almost felt bad by touching it, for being unable to keep it pure as it is now.

When you asked for a dress, you thought Thranduil would get something like the other one. Neutral, made of resistant fabric, made for those who need to walk and to work. The kind of dress that the wearer doesn’t care if it gets dirty or not. You didn’t expect this.

This isn’t a dress for someone that works with horses. For someone that gets muddy. For someone that runs, that likes the feeling of almost falling, that often passes through trees and animals. This isn’t a dress made for someone like you.

You wore it without thinking twice.

“You were singing”, Aerin sat on your bed.

You admired yourself in the mirror. “Was I?” You caressed the fabric. So soft.

“I never heard you singing before.” Aerin was flabbergasted at your dress. All the fine fabrics came together over your body, the lilac hugging you warmly. “And it’s been almost a year since I’ve known you.”

“Fourteen months,” you corrected her. You never did something like that before.

“Oh.”

You said nothing while getting dressed. You’ve never done anything like this before. To correct her. Never. When you turned towards Aerin, choosing between pretending that nothing happened or apologizing, you realized she had left you alone.

You were unsure of what to do. You went through the inn, walking without purpose. Feeling suddenly alone, you walked out of the inn to see the horses again.

You just didn’t imagine that everyone wanted to do the same. All the elves who came from Mirkwood were out there with their mounts. Within seconds, your surprise turned into realization. They wore their armor. This was no coincidence. They were leaving.

You ran to the stable, trying not to be trampled by horses, searching for him. He wasn’t on the field. Thranduil has already left? Without even saying goodbye? When you finally made it to the stable, you saw the gigantic elk. And you saw Thranduil mounting it.

“You are leaving?” Your breath was a mess. “You didn’t say goodbye.”

Thranduil hoped you were still sleeping. Or that you were busy with something and didn’t notice what was going on outside the inn. How he hoped you wouldn’t catch up. Thranduil would prey, down to his knees, to not see you again.

He didn’t want a last memory. He didn’t want a goodbye. Thranduil didn’t want to move with a sour taste in his mouth. He wanted to go remembering you swearing in a language you don’t really understand. Thranduil didn’t want a goodbye.

Thranduil wanted to spend his days imagining if you liked the dress. He didn’t want to see you wearing it. He didn’t want to see your braid hair. Thranduil didn’t want to see again how beautiful you were. How ethereal you look.

Thranduil didn’t want to see you, because he knew he would never be able to forget you.

But he can’t stay. Thranduil should’ve come back to Greenwood a week ago. Thranduil has responsibilities, lifes to care about, a realm to rule. He shouldn’t be here. Thranduil may not know a lot, but he knows when it's time to go. “It’s good to see you well, maenwë.”

You blinked. That’s all he had to say? You tucked your hair behind your ear. “You didn’t say goodbye,” you repeat yourself. You didn’t know what else to do.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he lied. Guiding his elk, Thranduil passed through you. He looked away first. “Goodbye, maenwë. Farewell.”

That’s all he had to say. Goodbye. Farewell. You watched him, so aware of how you must look. A pretty braid, a fancy dress, a cruel deception. That’s how a fool is supposed to look? And all he had to say was goodbye.

You walked. Ran. Outside the stable, you saw him organizing the small army. You walked up to him, not caring if he was speaking. If he wants to pretend that’s enough, if for him it’s enough, then Thranduil can live with that. But it's not enough for you.

If he's going to leave, if you'll never see eachother again, let it be done correctly. “Novaer,” you licked your lips. Farewell. You hesitated, searching for the right word. “Mellon.” Friend.

Embarrassed, you turned back to the inn. You walked towards it, you didn’t want anyone to see you running, and by the time you locked yourself in your room tears streamed down your face. Hidden behind the curtains, you watched him go.

Thranduil didn’t look back. Or else he wouldn’t be able to go forward.

That night, you slept hugging your new book. That night, Thranduil slept thinking about how you couldn’t say ‘mellon’ correctly even if your life depended on it.

[Forth Chapter]

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM: @ferns-fics @notanalienindisguiseblink @rayrlupin @elvyshiarieko @graniairish

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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tht0nesimp · 1 year

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Yandad!bilbo X adult!"adopted"!reader

TW: P!yandere, kidnapping, drugging, Restraints, bilbo being a dad, violence, language

" i do not permit it! Not while you live under my roof"

You groaned at the man as he sat " just sit and have some tea-" you practically growl at the man "YOUR NOT MY DAD OR SOMETHING?!" you storm away to a small room in the hobbit home and sit on your bed wishing for nothing more than to storm away from the shire entirely!

Ever since he found you after the ruins of lake town he felt as if he must keep you in the shire for some reason, lake town became perfectly safe and even with small dangers you could protect yourself quite alright on your own

You hear the door open and he hands you a cup of tea which you take a small begrudged sip but it tastes a little different, just to see what it was you took a big sip this time

You soon felt a dizzyness take over your body and your limbs became heavy “just lay down” he leans you down on your bed gently

“goodnight, we’ll talk in the morning” he flicked out the lights

you wake up with a raging headache but quickly remember last nights incident, you run out of your room and find the hobbit in the pantry “DID YOU DRUG ME BILBO?!” he looks quite offended “Well,no” he sounds nervous and shaky revealing his lying “ That’s it!” You run out of the door and walk towards the gate opening it and running away “WAIT!-“ you smile “TO LAKETOWN!!” the happiness you felt was unmatched as you began your journey to lake town

You reach the town and begin searching for bard wanting to greet him but see the dwarves standing watch for something, it hits you right then he told the dwarves! You hide but hear footsteps identifying them as fillis when you see black hair “shit..” You run into bards house to find him sitting clutching his temple “Your not safe here, They know your in here” filli grabs you right then “GOTCHA!” He smirks and his grip is unwavering against your struggle “We don’t mean to hurt cha?” He sounds slightly confused as to why your so scared but slaps some handcuffs on your wrists anyway and calls out to the other dwarves “FOUND EM” it broke your world in that moment, you really were stuck with bilbo

You saw the man enter the room with an angry look on his face “tell us your plan, hmm, what were you gonna do?” you stay proud standing tall against the grip of filli "live in laketown, like im supposed to" he looks at you as if you were stupid "and if i told the dwarves like i did?" you think "well-" he grips his temple "its time to get back to the shire" you kick filli and book it to the door only to be stopped by bard "im sorry" he hugs you with a sigh before bilbo grabs you and storms out the door before you can even speak

#yandere bilbo #yandere the hobbit #yandere lord of the rings #yandere male #yandere scenarios #fandom #xreader #yandere #headcanons #oneshot #CandiesActualFics

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lotrreactionmemes · 2 years

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#this is a fake scenario #lotr #memes #lotr memes #reaction memes #lord of the rings

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dmitriyuriev · 1 year

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Mohg/Miquella

I like the idea of Mohg keeping Miquella veiled in public if he were to awaken.

(Bonus face since its covered by the veil but I liked how it turned out)

#Elden Ring #Mohg Lord of Blood #Miquella the Unalloyed #Mohg #Miquella #MohgMiq #Moquella #incest/#noncon/#well nothing is actually happening yet but the scenario in mind is uh very dark #dark content

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h0neyfreak · 5 months

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Maybe it’s just the east coast Italian American in me….but I am obsessed with gold jewelry with intense levels of personal meaning. Engagement ring? Yes of course. The solid gold wings of victory pendant inscribed with “ESQ” I got myself for passing the bar?? One of my top ten choices. The gold chain bracelet I never take off that was brought over from Sicily in a coat pocket by a grandparent????? I would die for it.

Anyways. I would have put the one ring on immediately for reasons entirely unrelated to its evil vibes. Samwise Gamgee would’ve had to shove me fully into mount doom.

#mine #text post #lotr #lord of the rings #I buy most of my jewelry from mejuri which isn’t like. perfect when it comes to ethics and sustainability #but they do use a lot of recycled gold and I can confirm it’s absolutely gorgeous #tbh local small jewelers are the goat for ethical gold jewelry if you find a good one #they’ll usually source stones and raw materials themselves and should be able to tell you where everything came from #I’m starting to realize I might’ve asked bilbo if the gold was ethically mined or an heirloom piece #might have been too fucking annoying for this scenario #oh well. post made. hit send

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thranduilswifesblog · 2 years

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If I can open a portal for myself, I will went to imladris, cause Elrond is a good psychiatrist. I mean imagined

Y/n : *open the portal*

Elrond : another depression though, Mellon?

And then I will spent the next five hours laying on his couch with all my suicidal though while he sit next to me with a pen and papper and goes

Elrond : yeah.... Yeah understood. I'll give you another medicine, make sure you eat it, cause Glorfindel and I put a lot of effort made it.

Things will be better if we had Elrond as our psychiatrist

Bonus :

Elladan and Elrohir just messed with you by gave you a really wise suggestion how to end your life like

Elladan : still want to die? Have you ever tried jumping off a horse?

Elrohir : let's go to gondor, lady Eowyn from rohan had a very poisonious stew, even Sauron choose to death rather than eat her stew. It can kill you in a second :D

And Elrond just gonna took a deep breath and smile trough his pain and said with the calmest and softest voice ever

Elrond my dearest sons...if you both kept talking, I'll eat that stew my self :)

#legolas #elrond #the lord of the rings #the hobbit #incorrect tolkien quotes #incorrect lord of the rings quotes #hugoweaving #yn #imagine #imagine elrond #glorfindel #we love elrond #we love our lord elrond #elladan #elrohir #this scenario running in my head #lmao 🤣🤣🤣

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doodle-pops · 6 months

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Kiss It Better

Elrond x reader

Kinktober 2023: Aphrodisiacs

Warnings: fem!reader, aphrodisiac, rough sex, marathon sex, manhandling, semi-public sex, Elrond being a tease

Words: 4.3k

Synopsis: When Elrond mistakenly adds aphrodisiacs to your sleep–inducing tea, your quest for a peaceful night’s rest takes an unexpected turn. Elrond, being understanding and patient, comes to your aid, ensuring you find the sleep you were looking for through rare methods.

List of Requests

“Oh dear!” Staring at the empty contents of the supposed bottle of wormwood powder and then lifting the actually clear glass of wormwood, Elrond’s tongue kissed his teeth at the accident he caused. A first–time mishap and on a grand scale, he was sure how the effects of the mistakenly emptied contents of what should have been wormwood, but accidentally giving lavender in a copious amount, would have. You were sitting impatiently, twirling around on his stool, complaining about feeling overly feverish and sensitive. To make matters better, it was approximately eight minutes since you drank the concoction he stirred up a storm to create.

There wasn’t much the healer could do aside from staring at the bottle, defeated before silently placing the empty jar onto the shelf and stepping away with concern in his eyes. Those brown eyes darted everywhere else to inspect for any other mistaken bottles of herbs and powders he may have accidentally mixed into the tea for your lethargy. His hands moved at the same rate his eyes followed, falling on every surface of empty bottles and out–of–place containers. Even the opened books were not spared from his investigation, should he have unknowingly flipped to the wrong page, he might as well consider.

“This,” he sighed as he reached for another jar he was sure of using, this time labelled incorrectly once he smelt the contents within and became aware of it being another floral powder, “will get me into trouble once the higher effects begin to kick in. Though, it should have begun…” His eyes trailed off the half–filled jar to rush towards the page where the instructions lay before him. For a second, just a second, Elrond was almost certain that the universe was playing tricks on his brain as he decoded the measurements written on the page.

Two teaspoons

One teaspoon

Two and half teaspoon

One tablespoon…

“Lord Elrond…” Your voice echoed annoyingly from the outer room as your temperature began to increase and the sensation of having clothes covering your body became irritating. You were confused about the effects of what his homey remedy for lethargy was giving off, far different from the usual teas you consumed within the past year. Now, fanning your face and neck while giving aggravated tugs to your dress, you whined to him once more. “Lord Elrond, please, what is happening?”

With a pregnant pause, his head cocked to the side and his ear flicked at the change in your tone, you were already under the fire. Deciding that it was wiser to keep the truth about his mistake under the radar, Elrond whisked himself out of the storeroom and into his office where he came across you dabbing a cloth dipped in the bowl of cooling waters along your neck. Regardless, the action appeared more provocative than intended as you ran the material along your elongated neck and parted your lips to release a long, quiet groan. Your ability to distinguish decorum with the flames building intensely within was absentminded. There was no time to stop and become self–aware of the performance you were putting on due to his slip–up.

Elrond on the other hand was unsure if to continue standing silently in the doorway and observe how far your actions would take you or snap you out of it and treat the issue. Shifting on his feet and taking a deep gulp as you wrung the cloth and allowed droplets of water to fall against your skin to provide coolness, your eyes opened and caught him staring with a jar in hand and his eyes honed on your confrontational display. “Lord Elrond,” you called out nonchalantly as though you were not lacking decorum, “what is happening to me? I thought you gave me a tea for my tiredness?”

Scepticism flooded his expression as he attempted to avoid your gaze, solely due to the siren look you threw and the disappointment of informing you of his blunder as a healer. Walking into the room, he stepped around the opposite side of the table and away from you to place the bottle of lavender at the centre. His palms were faced down and his head hung with his lips twisting, thinking of every possible solution and answer to return. “It…It would appear that—”

No, he couldn’t say that.

Cautiously rounding the table while his fingers trailed along the edge, he turned his focus to you as he approached you from your side and came to stand beside you. Wordlessly, he gingerly pried the cloth out your fingers, careful not to touch your skin and dabbed it across your forehead, making notes of your slight shivering and increased arousal. This was the bare minimal interaction with a cloth hindering skin–to–skin contact and you were already affected. Swiftly dipping the cloth into the bowl of cool water, he continued to dab at your forehead and the rest of your face, doing his best to avoid your neck to entice any behaviour.

His lips were pursed as he remained steadfast on applying the first step into solving your crisis, brown eyes following the motion of his hands until you began sighing too frequently. His eyes fell upon the bob of your throat and the parting of your lips the moment you shut your eyes to focus on the lingering sensation of his touch. It was then he decided it was a wrong idea to become close and personal to treat you.

“This is clearly a terrible idea,” he muttered, taking a step backwards and pondering on how to properly assess you.

“Elrond, forgive me, Lord Elrond,” you corrected and hopped off the stand to step forward, crossing the gap in three strides, “please just tell me what is happening and why does my body feel this…way.” At the end of your words, you began twitching, majorly at the junction where your thighs met your pelvis. The growing ache between your legs provoked you to squeeze your thighs together and shift from left to right.

Worry befell his eyes, and he bit the inside of his mouth at the progress of actions. “Alright, you need to sit and remain still, and refrain from touching me,” he ordered, frustratingly.

“Touching you?” You frowned and took three steps backwards to meet the stool.

Building a storm within the clustered spacing of his office, Elrond rapidly answered as he reached for a clean mortar and pestle, “Yes, no touching me because you might get the urge to do something like that to sedate the pain.” Having placed the instruments on the table not too far away, he placed his hands on his hips and turned to cast a worrisome look. “I made the wrong tea due to…mislabelling. I picked up the incorrect ingredients and gave you aphrodisiacs in extremely large doses.” His voice had shrunk at the end of his confession knowing fully well that you would blow a fuse.

“What?!” you shrieked. “Elrond, are you serious? I’m trying to gain hours sleeping, not sleeping around.”

He couldn’t help but find your statement to be entirely humorous as it slipped out and released a muted chuckle, hidden by the dipping of his head. “I apologise, the fault is entirely my own,” he clarified with a clearing of his throat. “However, if you can only sit still and allow me to cure it, you’ll soon be on your way to sleep.”

“And exactly how are you planning on curing this? Because to my unfortunate knowledge, somebody gave me aphrodisiacs in large quantities and claimed it was a new sleeping tea. Perhaps it wasn’t an accident and done on purpose. No wonder why I felt odd the minute I drank it,” you muttered with apprehension and cast a side eye at him. To blame Elrond was entirely not you and only the herbs taking its toll on your frustration. All in the act of attempting to have its purpose served.

Unaware of this being an effect, conversely, Elrond grew tired of your antics and snapped with fury in his voice, laced with weariness and concernment. “And I believe you have a way of solving this problem with all your complaining?” he challenged and slammed the mortar upon the table. “You seem to doubt my ability to remove the issue.”

“Of course, I do, especially when you appear as equally as weary as myself, I have every right to question your capabilities as a healer!” you reacted, shooting from your seat and standing beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “If you were the healer you claimed to be then I would not be in this situation—”

“Your pupils have dilated tremendously,” he whispered, causing his warm breath to fan your face prompting you to lean in closer unconsciously.

“So what?” you replied.

“And your pulse is becoming erratic,” he added, becoming aware of the proximity of your body.

“Let it—I don’t mind if it goes a bit high when I’m around you.” Fingers crawling up his arm, you kept eye contact with his gorgeous brown eyes and inched yourself closer until you wedged yourself in the gap between him and the table. Bodies pressing against each other, driving you insane, you reached out to hold him closer in an attempt to step away. Albeit, he wasn’t attempting to distance himself from your close–body figure, pressing against him.

“You’re thinking too much, Elrond,” your voice seduced while your finger reached his chin to tug it forward, mending the gap. “Just admit this was all a part of your plan and you desired me as much as I do. Just imagine,” you began, standing on your toes and placing your lips beside his ear, “how good it would feel to release all your tension in me. When was the last time you had a good time?”

“Y/N, think about this carefully,” he cautioned lowly, body shuddering when your lips kissed his earlobe and knowing that sense had disappeared the minute you consumed the tea. It was only a futile and last–resort attempt.

“Picture it Elrond,” you taunted and took his hand to wrap around your waist. “Us naked and entangled while you satisfy both our needs. Just think of how good you’ll fuck me.”

You proved the power and potency of the herbs and flowers was displayed by the rush of his arms instantly knocking all the parchment and instruments off in haste and hoisting you on the table. Tugging at your leggings and knickers until they were flung across the room, your bare legs met the cold air and his fingers. You trembled under his touch, your chest heaving and sweat building as the erraticism of your pulse escalated immensely, you cried out for him to get on with the show and stop teasing. You wanted to feel his body against yours without clothes hindering the sensation.

Reaching your hands out, they haphazardly yanked at his apparel and flung each piece across the room without care and concern. Your fingers desired the need to touch his skin and have the warmth of it pressing against yours to cool the raging fire crawling like molten lava across your skin. Inch by inch it sluggishly trailed, engulfing your entire body into flames while he stood there leaving you to take care of the matter on your own. The cruelty behind his reclusive actions, palms against the tabletop and standing between your legs while he breathed in your air and left you to undress him and then yourself increased the ache between your legs. Whining his name and frowning at him for provocation failed, for all he did was stand there with his brown eyes locked upon your pouting expression.

“You want me to assist you, don’t you?” he lowly chuckled, turning on the heat. “In fact, you need me to assist you.”

“Elrond, please don’t tease me any longer,” you wailed, tugging on the neckline of his shirt to bring his lips a little closer to meet yours, only to have him pull away at the last minute. “Just…Just fix it!”

“And here I thought you said I was incapable of such,” he corrected as his right hand slid up your back to meet the laces and give the bow a tug, unravelling it. With his thumb and forefinger gripping the end of the lace, he continued to unravel it until the bow was undone, leaving the rest of the intricate lacing to loosen. Straightening his posture and left standing in his leggings and shirt, he pulled you upright to unravel the tightness of the lacing and loosen the upper portion of your dress to allow his skilful fingers to peel it off artfully slowly.

The entire time, your hands were frozen on the buttons of his shirt and your eyes focused on the sleeves of your dress being tugged down your arm until they were caught at your elbow. The palpations of your chest could be heard and figured out by Elrond through the flustered expression you cast and the build–up of perspiration. The stickiness coating your skin, Elrond’s fingers swiped against it as he tugged at the front of the dress, prying your cleavage out from the confinements and into the open for his eyes to feast upon.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” he quizzed once most of the upper portion had been removed and took a step back, prying your fingers off the buttons to finish the removal of his clothes. “Is it because you need my care and touch desperately?”

His hands rubbed circles into your hipbone, provoking more sounds to fall from your lips. He wanted to witness how putty you would easily become for his remedy after all the smart–mouthing you were capable of relaying. To witness the hooded, lazily look in your eyes which morphed into want and the parting of your lips to moisten it as his body rocked into yours, enticed him to take the remaining steps to completion.

Towering above you flushed and semi–nude, both hands ran up your legs, over every curve and bump, pushing your dress until it bunched around your waist. Measuring the gap between you, he stepped closer to fill it, also yanking your body closer till it was flushed against his chest. The ripples of goosebumps once your breasts were squeezing on his chest, nipples hardened and rubbing deliciously upon the smoothness of your Lord’s skin, shot across your ignited body. Little whimpers and sighs were emitted at the action of your bodies firmly pressed without any space in between to disturb the tension being created.

Gathering the energy to reach for the rest of your sleeves and tugging it off completely, now your dress pooled perfectly around your waist, he slipped his hands under your thighs and brought them to encircle his waist. The yelp you emitted was swallowed up by his lips colliding with yours and wasting no time in giving you the chance to adjust. Elrond pried your lips apart with his tongue and went to work fervently to savour the sweet taste of your kiss. His groans, at first, were inaudible. Being devoured by your lips as you made attempts at eating his lips or rather his face—your fingers were clawing into his nape and back, pushing him deeper into your body as though you wanted him to morph into you.

For every bite of your lip, your fingers tightened at his nape and gave small tugs to his hair, and for every swipe of his tongue against yours, you dug your nails into his back to leave your signature. The kiss was unlike any other you had experienced, perhaps with the mixture of him being your Lord and you his assistant, the thrill was heightened led to his touch being voracious.

Conversely, Elrond was a master in his art and possessed infinite levels of control unlike you in this situation at a time like this. Breaking the kiss much to your disappointment, his lips remained a few centimetres apart. “Are you going to give me an answer?”

Your body jerked in his hold as his question left you furious at the leisurely time he was taking to fix the issue. The blood under your skin was boiling causing the fingers gnawing at his neck and back to force him into hurrying up. “Would you quit it and just fuck me already? Put the heat out and just make me feel good!” you wailed.

For the first time in years, Elrond felt rejuvenated at the game he played with you. It wasn’t something he was ever fond of, always preferring to make the moment romantic and full of adoration and love, but today sparked a newfound delight. All the while you were yapping and running your mouth, being demanding and obnoxious, the hands that once held your thighs already slipped between your bodies to unsheathe his cock from his leggings and guide it towards your opening. He was thrilled your attention was focused on getting him to comply that you were oblivious to your wish being fulfilled.

“Is this what you wanted me to give you?” With his body at present pressed against yours, there was no room for your eyes to witness the motion of his cock approaching your cunt, only to feel the breaching with an eye roll and heave. Thankfully your hands flopped off his back to brace your body upright on your forearms, you were given the most precious sight of his cock sliding in and out, already covered in a sheet of your arousal. The only thing left for him to do was to pick up the pace.

“You want me to give you pleasure?” he goaded. “But you told me I lacked the capabilities.”

A mischievous grin was set upon his face as the rocking of his hips remained steady and at a snail’s pace. No amount of gripping his hips or pressing the heels of your ankles into his back would increase his speed; not until you gave him an answer.

“Please, please, please. J–…Just give it to me Elrond…” crying out with a solid flop against the table, as much as your body was being stimulated, it wasn’t at the rate required to soothe the ache. “I just want your cock…”

As desperate and pitiful as it sounded, it was pleasant to his ears somehow and fuelled the course of his actions. Leaning his body lower, his hips maintained their rhythmic pattern, leaving behind the soft pitta–patter of his ball being soaked by your drenched cunt. It made his eyes widen the realisation of the desire you contained to be relieved and how much he gave you to consume. Pleased in ways unimaginable, his left hand cupped your face for his thumb to run over your lips before feeling your lips wrapping around the tip and your tongue swirling around it. Eyes widening, yet kept holding his finger, they were fixated on the motion of your lips.

Hissing, his lips formed a smirk at the inability of you to give a response before barrelling away. With his right hand occupied on your waist, he used it to guide your hips to meet the increased tempo of his thrust, awakening the temptress within you. Provocative moans from the depths of your soul escaped your lips and left him more aroused from the start. Even through the action of your sweet lips sucking on his finger, he could precisely and clearly hear each syllable of your melody the more he drove his cock into you.

He couldn’t believe how right you were about the last time he gave himself away so freely to the highs of ecstasy. Your words replayed in his head about releasing all his tension while curing your problem; considering it beneficial when he was problem solving both your issues in one shot—a good remedy.

Letting himself loose, Elrond flung his head backwards to join you in harmony as moans fell from his lips. The tightness of your cunt, a feeling he missed and enjoyed, wrapping around him suffocatingly without a moment of reprieve spiralled him into ecstasy. Your snuggly held him in possession, considering him yours with every stroke he delivered, kissing your sweet spot like no tomorrow and leaving behind stains of his precum to quench the flames. The rigidness and robustness of his cock, the perfect weight resting within your walls were accepted with familiarity. Allowing you to remodel and mould your insides to suit the shape of what he desired. A place where he could return for release and satisfaction.

With the first wave of your fire cooling from sinister rolls of his hips, loudly slapping against the inner of your thighs, you sighed in euphoria. This was the relief your body craved all these months, not sleep. The sensation of being twisted into different positions, from lying on your back to being placed on your side with your leg over his shoulder, a different type of workout that proved to be the best form of lethargy. There wasn’t a position your legs were being tossed into the deeper he drove his cock to have it touch placed unheard of. When they were considered myths, your Lord Elrond proved them false with the wicked flex of his hips to bury himself in the depths of your core, emptying the first release of tension before pummelling again.

There was no stopping when you were now being placed on your stomach, your right foot planted directly into the floor with your left hitched on the table and his hips smacking against your ass. You could have sworn that he was the one who drank the tea instead of you, but with a quick reality check of the volume of releases you made in the last half an hour, it was you.

The deliberating crawl of your cramps as he fucked you like no tomorrow, fingers massaging the back of your thigh while his lips whispered filth in your ear, eased the pain. Even when your stomach clenched and your walls cramped around his cock as the coolness of your orgasm quenched the flames, his fingers ghosting over your skin was a better sensation and stimulation. You could stand there for as long as he desired and take the vigorous pummelling he gave, even if it left you bedridden, it would been the best rest and treatment for your weariness received. It might encourage you to make checks more often than usual.

On Elrond’s end, he could say the same thing. His right hand intertwined with yours upon the table, sweaty chest rubbing against yours and finger massaging your thigh, he would have to make frequent schedules for another visit. Nevertheless, he only wished for the constant slipping and sliding of your bodies to cease. It made things difficult for him to hold and keep close, albeit it allowed for the sounds of his hips meeting your ass to reverberate in the depths of his eardrum, placing a pleasant smile on his face.

“Your cries sound better than I imagined, Y/N.” His voice trickled into your ear like caramel, melting away any remaining tension in your bones. Your body visibly sagged into his chest; head lulled atop his shoulder while your lips remained parts to release your broken, stammering moans. “Tell me, is the treatment to your liking? Would you like me to ease the ache once more?”

Breathlessly fumbling around with your words, your fingers tightened in his and pressed into the table, knocking your knuckles into the solid wood at the swelling of his cock, expanding your walls. The violent flooding of his cum seeping into your cunt and being pushed deeper with the intention of being kept there, left you shaking. Your body couldn’t handle the intoxication of his presence entering you again, speeding up the process for another wave of your orgasm to break through and mix with his. Your cries were all he was listening to while he relentlessly continued to pound away at your walls, loving the hypersensitivity he sent you into.

“Oh fuck, El–…rond!” Wailing into the heated air, your breath condensed at the rise in temperature of the office. Your body’s urge to collapse was prohibited by the gentle encircling of his right arm, still entwined with yours, around your waist to keep you upright and against his sweaty chest. The amazement you held at the unshakeable power he wielded to continue round after round as though his limit was endless. You were beginning to consider the acknowledgement of you being hit with aphrodisiacs was false and simply made up to lure you into his trap.

After all, he was a descendant of a Maia, a powerful at that, being able to ensnare you with the hypnotic look in his eyes was enough to have you at his beck and call. Imagine what his voice was doing as your insides churned and melted with the melody of his moans against your earlobe. Lips kissing the tips and breathless groaning at the squeeze you gave; Elrond summoned you to him like a siren calling its prey.

“Just like that, I’m sure you can give me another and another and another,” he encouraged, placing more pressure on your sweet spot as he ground his hips into your ass and rubbed the tip of his cock against it. “Just let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel better.”

He was unappeasible and outmatched you.

And yet, it did not terrify you, only enticing you to further give in and allow him to care and tend to your needs. His touches and words were all that were required to provoke your body into rejuvenation. He could kiss away the pain, ghost his lips over your skin or breathe against it and all would be well. His remedy to heal your ache was the best and always provided satisfaction.

Masterlist

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