So this is like the third time I‘m attempting this whole writing thing 😅 loss of motivation is a struggle. But yeah, made it my new years resolution to actually go through with it (atleast somewhat). We‘ll see how well I do. English isn‘t my first language, please keep that in mind if something seems wonky!
Kinda just writing for whatever character I find inspiration for.
Masterlist
Rules for requests
🚨 Minors continue at your own risk, there is NSFW content on this blog 🚨
I know how much smutty content I consumed when I was a teenager and I obviously can't tell you what to do, just always remember that you're responsible for curating your online experience. You can block tags for a reason.
Fingon had never been good at keeping surprises hidden from you. Adding alcohol to the mix was just a disaster waiting to happen.
Requested by: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers
Words: 1.2k
Tags: mentions of alcohol consumption, fluff
A/N: It is only fitting that my first request is for Fingon, my beloved. Aikanáro and Angaráto are Aegnor and Angrod respectively, in case you don’t know. I just can’t resist the Quenya names, sorry not sorry
You were sitting in your living room, reading a book, when Findekáno’s slightly groggy voice came from behind you.
“Uh, I don’t remember coming here.”
You snorted and turned to face him, watching him take in his surroundings in confusion, clothes still dishevelled from sleep. “Good morning to you, too. Or good afternoon, I suppose.”
Dragging his feet, he plopped down next to you on the couch, shifting until he could rest his head on your shoulder. Setting your book aside, you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head before settling in against him.
“Not that I don’t like waking up in your bed, but care to enlighten me on just what happened last night?”
“How much do you remember?” you began hesitantly. It wasn’t like you had been dreading this moment, but there was still a sense of uncertainty.
“Like I said, I don’t even remember coming here.” There was a hint of embarrassment in his voice as he burrowed his face into your shoulder.
“Well, in that case …” He was certainly in for a surprise.
You stared at the three Finwëans in front of you, squinting. “Have you been drinking?”
“No, we haven’t,” Findekáno said, unable to fully hide the slur in his voice.
“Yes, we have,” Aikanáro and Angaráto replied in unison. Comparatively, they seemed to be in a much more sober state than Findekáno, who tried to lean on Angaráto as inconspicuously as possible. “Which is why we should probably be heading home,” Aikanáro continued, fixing his dark-haired cousin with a pointed stare.
Findekáno made a dismissive gesture. “You go on without me. We,” he motioned between the two of you, “need to have an important conversation.”
You cocked an eyebrow at him and moved aside. “Come on in, then,” you said, keeping your eyes on him until he had sat down, to make sure he didn’t trip over his own feet in his drunken haze.
“Are you sure about this? Shouldn’t we try to talk him out of it?” you heard Aikanáro ask in a hushed voice as he and Angaráto walked away.
“Let him get it out of his system. If I have to listen to any more lovesick rambling I’m going to lose it,” Angaráto replied.
Shaking your head in confusion, you closed the door and joined Findekáno, who had found a spot on your couch. He beamed at you, pulling you in for a slightly too tight hug.
“All right, ease up there,” you wheezed, and he mercifully loosened his hold on you.
“Sorry. Just missed you,” he said with a pout. “Haven’t seen you in some time.”
“And whose fault is that?” you asked accusingly, though there was no real bite behind the words. The harvest festival was approaching and as one of the musical performers he’d been tied up with all sorts of preparations and rehearsals.
“Mine,” he groaned, letting go of you to flop backwards with an exaggerated sigh, as if admitting his fault pained him greatly. You laughed at his dramatic antics, making him grin back at you. Few things delighted him as much as making you laugh, no matter how drunk or sober he was.
“You said there’s something you wanted to talk about?” you changed the topic, curiosity beginning to nag at you.
“Huh? Oh!” he sat upright with a start, turned to face you fully and took your hands in his. Nothing could have prepared you for the next words coming out of his mouth. “Marry me. No, wait, wrong order.” He shook his head, seemingly trying to recompose himself. “I love you more than the stars themselves and I want to spend the rest of my existence with you by my side, if you’ll have me. I promise I will always love you and cherish you and spend every waking moment making you as happy as you can be. So, please, marry me.” Findekáno nodded once to himself, certain he'd gotten it right this time, and looked at you expectantly.
You could do nothing but gape at him. Was this a joke? For all his fun-loving nature, you knew how serious Findekáno took his feelings for you. Surely he wouldn’t actually try to propose to you in this state.
“Are you … serious?” you probed, taking care to not let any negativity show in your voice. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marriage before and if he was sober, you would have accepted in a heartbeat. But in a situation like this?
“As serious as I could be. Why? Are you- oh. I see.” It seemed like your voice wasn’t neutral enough, after all. He let go of your hands slowly and rose from the couch, swaying slightly and holding onto the backrest to steady himself. “Forgive me. I thought-” he bit his bottom lip and hung his head low. “I’ll just, uh, you know …”
Your heart clenched painfully at his dejected form, and you hastily stood up to pull him into your arms, forgetting to take his lowered sense of balance into consideration. Normally he would have caught himself easily, but as it were, you both went tumbling onto the couch, each letting out a quiet oof. He clumsily crawled off you, a silly giggle escaping him, before his mind went back to your assumed rejection.
“I thought you loved me,” he slurred. “I thought you- don’t you want to marry me?” As much as he tried to put on a stoic face, you could spot a subtle sheen in his eyes.
You let out an exasperated curse under your breath at his overly rash conclusion. Cupping his face, you made sure to look him straight in the eyes. “Listen to me, melda. You’re drunk, we shouldn’t be having this kind of conversation,” you said, hoping to strike a good balance between stern and gentle. “I didn’t say anything about a rejection or that I don’t love you.”
Findekáno perked up at that, as if he’d only heard the last part. “So, you’re saying you do want to marry me?”
“We’ll talk about this in the morning, all right? When you’ve got a clear head.”
“You totally want to marry me,” Findekáno doubled down, ignoring your attempts at deflection. The smile he gave you was almost smug, and you could only marvel at how quickly his mood had changed back to positive.
Findekáno buried his face in his hands. “By the stars, this can’t be real. Please forgive me. You deserve a better proposal than drunken rambling.” He looked up at you again, guilt dripping from every pore. “I was planning to propose at the harvest festival. After the official music performance, I was going to play a song written just for you and-“ He cut himself off and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m such an idiot.”
“Don’t say that,” you chided softly. “We both know you can’t keep secrets.” You couldn’t help but tease him a little. He shot you a withering look before laughing himself.
Findekáno's fingers danced a nervous rhythm on his thigh, and you could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. “I meant what I said, you know? There’s no one I would rather have by my side than you. No one who means more to me than you.”
“I know,” you replied with a smile, angling his face so you could press a loving kiss to his lips and nuzzle his nose. “Ask me again at the festival. I might just say yes, if you’re lucky.”
Soo I’ve decided to gather the courage and accept requests for (N)SFW one shots and hcs. Let’s see how it goes. AUs welcome :D
First and foremost: there is no guarantee that I will fulfill your request if it doesn’t spark inspiration/if it makes me uncomfortable. You don’t pay me to write, so please be mature and don’t get upset.
I’m queer myself so same sex relationship requests are no problem :D Feel free to request m!reader, I know the reader insert landscape heavily caters towards f!reader, so if you have an idea don’t be shy!
I probably won’t ever have a set list of characters I write for, but these are the characters I feel most confident writing for rn: (in no particular order and subject to change)
Maedhros
Caranthir
Curufin (never thought I would write this)
Fingon
Finrod
Galdor
Maeglin
Beleg
Characters I will not be writing for: (maybe, but very unlikely, subject to change)
Celegorm
Aegnor
Any characters from The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings (yes, that includes Thranduil and Legolas)
SFW topics I will not be writing about:
Cheating
Any kind of abuse (even if it was in the past)
Mental/chronic health problems
Yandere characters
NSFW topics I will not be writing about: (I’m not insanely knowledgeable on kinks so there might be stuff that squicks me that I’m not even aware of lmao)
Bondage
Spanking
Choking (all very boring of me, I know, it is what it is)
Maeglin and you decide to take the next big step in your relationship.
Words: 2.1k
Tags: smut, first time
A/N: I’ve had such insane writer’s block for the last few weeks jfc. I also started writing this last May, can’t believe it’s finally finished
Intimacy was something Maeglin had struggled with ever since you’d known him. It had taken countless years of seemingly hopeless mutual pining for the two of you to establish some sort of relationship and even then, there were times when he would get overwhelmed and withdrew for a bit.
Considering all this, you had been more than surprised when one late evening Maeglin had brought up the topic of physical intimacy in its purest form. He’d been blushing so hard you had feared he might faint, but thankfully it didn’t come to that.
Neither of you had any practical experience when it came to sex and you weren’t sure how much awkwardness that fact would add, but you were more than willing to give yourself to him and figure it out together. Maybe your penchant for erotic literature would finally pay off.
You straddled his lap, and he met you halfway when you leaned in to kiss him. Maeglin’s kisses were always a little rigid but there was no denying the depth of his feelings behind them. Even if he wasn’t the best at expressing his adoration for you, you knew deep in your heart that he loved you unconditionally.
His hands found purchase on your hips while your hands cradled his face. His tongue poked against your lips, and you eagerly welcomed him, whimpering in pleasure as your tongues caressed each other.
It wasn’t the first time you had kissed like this, but the promise of even more to come made an almost giddy anticipation run through your veins.
When you parted for air, you took a moment to lean back slightly and study his face.
“Are you sure about this? You know we don’t have to,” you said, running your thumb along his bottom lip while searching his eyes for any uncertainty.
Even if he had been the one to suggest this, nothing was more important to you than his comfort. The last thing you ever wanted was to overwhelm him or make him feel like he had to push himself outside his comfort zone to please you. You were ready to retreat at a moment’s notice if he expressed second thoughts and you knew he would do the same for you.
He smiled reassuringly and pulled you back in to rest his forehead against yours. “No, I want this. You have no idea how much.”
“Oh, I think I do,” you grinned smugly as you lightly ground your hips against the forming bulge in his pants, which earned you a breathy laugh.
His lips ghosted over yours before wandering down to your neck and you tilted your head to grant him better access, heart skipping a beat as he started to carefully nip and suck at your skin. It wasn’t enough to leave a mark, but it was exhilarating all the same.
“Do you want to move this to the bed?” he asked, his breath hot against your skin, and you nodded eagerly.
“Yes, that sounds good.” You pulled his head up for one more kiss and made to slide off his lap, but Maeglin simply picked you up and carried you the short way to the bedroom.
He sat you down on the edge of the bed and stood before you, letting your eyes wander over his still clothed body and settle on the erection straining his pants. You bit your bottom lip, imagination running wild with what would be found beneath the layers of fabric.
As if reading your mind, he brought his hands to his shirt and began slowly undoing the buttons. Your eyes were glued to every bit of pale skin that was revealed to you and your hands were itching to reach out and caress it.
He dropped his shirt to the floor carelessly and you scooted forward to catch his hands before they could start undoing his pants.
“May I?” you asked, and he nodded wordlessly. You couldn’t tell if the slight shaking of your hands was from nerves or anticipation, but it soon didn’t matter anymore as you came almost face to face with his freed erection.
Sure, your education had taught you the basics of male anatomy, but none of that could have prepared you for the sudden ache in your core and the wave of arousal washing over you at the sight of him.
Should you say something? You thought back to all the dirty words you had read characters exchange, the candid ways in which they had complimented each other’s bodies. None of it seemed feasible in that moment, the mess of feelings inside you leaving you tongue-tied.
You looked up at Maeglin’s face and saw a hungry look that surely mirrored your own. A simple “Can I touch you?” was all you could muster.
“Please do,” he rasped almost desperately, and you brought a hand up to gather some of the fluid that was starting to leak from the tip and spread it along his shaft in a slow motion. A strangled moan escaped him, and you could feel wetness gather between your thighs at the sound.
You began moving your hand up and down, watching his reaction closely. The way he looked at you with hooded eyes and unabashed desire gave you a surge of confidence and you leaned in to run your tongue across the tip slowly before taking it in your mouth completely and sucking lightly, all the while continuing the motion of your hand.
Maeglin let out a proper moan this time and squeezed his eyes shut. Before you could think about taking more of him in your mouth a hand came up to cradle the back of your head, pulling it off him gently. You threw him a questioning look, wondering with a small sense of dread if it had been too much too fast.
“Are you all right?”
An almost embarrassed blush spread across his face. “Y-yes, don’t worry. I just didn’t want this to … end too early,” he trailed off, suddenly unable to meet your eyes. Oh.
“I want to see you, too,” he blurted out before you could reply anything and you were at once aware that, unlike him, you were still fully clothed.
“I supposed that’s only fair,” you replied with a cheeky grin, hoping to put his nerves at ease. Judging by his tiny smile, you were more or less successful.
You rose from the bed and took his hands, guiding them behind your back to help him untie your dress. The fabric slipped from your shoulders easily and pooled around your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. A shiver ran across your body as he raked his eyes over you hungrily and you wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on you.
You shuffled onto the bed and scooted backwards, Maeglin crawling after you without hesitation.
His strong arms, toned from spending hours in the forges, bracketed either side of your head, his ebony tresses falling around the two of you like a curtain.
“Kiss me,” you breathed and he happily obliged, lips moulding against yours as if they were made for each other.
He leaned his weight on one arm and ran the other hand briefly over your cheek before moving down to cup one of your breasts. You arched your back against him in encouragement and he pinched your nipple experimentally, erection twitching against your thigh at your muffled moan.
He repeated the motion, and you shifted your hips to grind the soaked fabric of your underwear against him, desperate for any kind of friction.
After being satisfied with the amount of attention he had given your breast, Maeglin’s fingers wandered even deeper down your body and toyed with the hem of your underwear.
“Can I take it off?” he murmured against your lips, and you simply lifted your hips in response, glad to be rid of that final barrier between you.
He tossed it aside and made to drag his hand up your body again, but you held it in place between your thighs, guiding his fingers between your dripping folds and across your aching clit.
“I have wanted to do this for so long,” Maeglin admitted and with your help eventually found a rhythm with his fingers that had you mewling and gasping in no time.
“Me, too,” you replied breathlessly and captured his lips again, wasting no time to slip your tongue inside his mouth. Hearing those words made your heart swell with love. No amount of nights spent fantasising alone could compare to the feeling of actually having your beloved here with you, experiencing his desire for you first hand. You hoped dearly that he felt the same.
The prodding of a finger against your entrance brought you back from your reverie.
Maeglin searched your eyes for reassurance and when you nodded firmly, he carefully slipped his finger inside, watching your face closely for any signs of discomfort. As he found none, he started moving his finger in and out, picking up the pace steadily. Soon after, a second finger was added, and while the sensation was a little strange in the beginning, it quickly turned into pleasure.
When he felt like you had been sufficiently prepared, he withdrew his fingers and used the remaining slickness to coat his strained erection. You spread your legs wider in anticipation, making ample place for him to comfortably settle between your thighs.
He opened his mouth, likely to reaffirm your readiness, but you cut him off.
“Take me,” you almost begged him, and he didn’t need to be told twice. He lined himself up and slowly inched forward, giving you time to adjust to the stretch. It felt overwhelming, but in the best way possible.
Once he was fully inside, you stayed like that for a while, breaths coming in shallow huffs as you got accustomed to being connected so intimately.
At your urging, Maeglin started to move, burying his face in the pillow next to you, letting you hear his pleased huffs and grunts up close. The pace was somewhat clumsy and uncoordinated, but in that moment, it was everything you could have asked for.
“Stars, it feels so good,” he whispered in your ear, and you could only let out a needy whimper in response, reaching between the two of you with one hand to rub at your clit. The added sensation made you clench tightly around him and the delighted moan he let out at that almost sent you over the edge right then and there.
You tangled your other hand in his hair to pull him in for a messy kiss, catching his lip between your teeth before parting.
“I don’t think I can last for much longer,” he gasped against your lips, and you couldn’t fault him.
“Me neither,” you replied and sped up the fingers on your clit, determined to make him come with you.
“Just let yourself go,” you whispered, caressing the sensitive tip of his ear in encouragement. “Come with me, meleth.”
Your words seemed to have an instant effect on him, as his thrusts grew erratic at once, blindly chasing his pleasure.
“That’s it,” you cooed, feeling your own body grow tense as your desire continued to build. It didn’t take long for you to tumble over the edge, white hot pleasure shooting through your every fibre and clouding your mind.
You distantly registered Maeglin taking one last desperate thrust as your contractions around him sent him hurtling straight towards his own climax, filling you up with his hot release.
The two of you simply laid there for some time, catching your breaths and basking in the afterglow.
Ere he could collapse completely on top of you, Maeglin pulled out and flopped down next to you, pulling you into his side. His release slowly trickled out of you, but you paid it no mind. Cleaning up could wait.
Even now, his embrace had the usual slightly stiff quality, and you had to supress a good-natured snicker. Now was not the time to tease him.
You shifted so you could better look into Maeglin’s face and cup his cheek lovingly. He stared at you with an unreadable expression.
“What are you thinking?” you asked softly.
“I-“ he started but stopped abruptly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. You caressed his cheek with your thumb soothingly, giving him the time he needed to rearrange his thoughts. The look he gave you when he opened his eyes again was so tender and vulnerable it almost made you tear up. “I love you,” he whispered at last, and you leaned forward to nuzzle your nose against his, feeling your chest flooding with warmth.
“I love you, too, meleth-nîn. More than anything in the world.”
A/N: idk what came over me but I had sudden inspiration and had to try and put it into writing. Enjoy the angstiest thing I’ve written so far jfc
You sat next to Telperinquar as he was flipping through his notebook. Trying to pay attention to your son’s excited ramblings about forging techniques was proving difficult with the storm raging inside you.
The past few weeks had been tumultuous to say the least. Watching the man you loved stand stoutly by his father’s side as he rallied your fellow Noldor against the Valar and put forth his maddening oath to retrieve his precious gems from the dark enemy – an oath none of his sons hesitated to swear. Receiving reports of the man you loved spilling the blood of innocents at the behest of his father. The worst part had to be that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t completely shield your son from hearing about his fathers’ deeds.
“Ammë?”
You startled a little as your son called out to you. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for a reply to whatever he had asked. Guilt surged through you at seeming so uninterested in your son’s studies when in truth you couldn’t be prouder of the understanding of his father’s craft he was already showing at his age.
A forced smile appeared on your face. “Forgive me, sweetheart, my thoughts were elsewhere.”
Tyelpë frowned at your response and let his eyes wander back to his notes. “Were you thinking about Atto?” he asked quietly.
Tyelpë might not have been a grown man yet, but he was old enough to understand that whatever was happening since the Darkening was waking some kind of darkness in his father’s heart as well.
You sighed and reached out to pull him closer, making him wrap his arms around you without hesitation. Your fingers idly combed through his strands of soft black hair as you tried to think of something soothing to say – you couldn’t come up with anything and so the two of you sat there in silence.
“Is Atto a bad man now?” Tyelpë asked after a while. The words pierced straight through your heart. Never in your life would you have thought that a child born in the Blessed Realm would have to worry about such a thing.
“He has made some very bad decisions.” It was a grotesque understatement but a naïve motherly part in you still clung to the hope of preserving what was left of your son’s innocence.
A knock sounded on the door and moments later your husband stepped into the room. He wore a smile on his face, but you could feel the fire sizzling beneath the surface through your bond. As he approached, you pressed a gentle kiss to Tyelpë’s forehead and let go of him.
“Give us a moment, will you?”
He nodded sombrely, collected his notebook and gave his father a brief hug before leaving the room.
Curufinwë sat down where your son had previously sat and slowly took your hands in his, giving you a chance to pull away. You didn’t, at least for now.
“How are you doing?” he asked lowly as he ran his thumb over the back of your hand.
You smiled mirthlessly. “Just fine. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I’m wondering if you’ve changed your mind?”
Your stomach churned – you knew he was referring to whether or not you would accompany him on his accursed journey to Beleriand.
“I haven’t. I’m not coming.” You shot him a warning look towards the end of your sentence. Countless hours had been lost to heated debates on whether or not Curufinwë would be departing alone.
His grip on your hands tightened. “Surely you would not want to deprive our Tyelpë of his mother’s presence.”
You wrought your hands free from his hold and rose to your feet, fists clenched at your sides. “We’ve been over this. You will not take him from me. I won’t allow it.”
Curufinwë rose to his feet as well, towering over you – looking every bit as fiery and determined as his father and yet showing an unusual amount of restraint compared to your previous arguments. Maybe they were wearing him out the same as you. “Am I not his flesh and blood as well? And am I not the one you bound yourself to?”
You could feel his fëa reaching out to yours, a gentle caress that made you shiver and curse yourself. You hated that, despite the sickening blind loyalty he showed to his father, despite all the Elven blood he’d spilled, you still found yourself longing for him. Craving the warmth of his touch and the sweet entanglement of your fëar. He smirked knowingly, able to feel your feelings as if they were his own.
Curufinwë stepped forward and once again gave you a chance to pull away before he wrapped you in his arms. Curse him. Why did he have to still be so considerate of you even now when he had lost this same fight more times than you could count?
His familiar sandalwood scent enveloped your senses, letting a bittersweet comfort wash over you. For a moment there were no destroyed Trees. No dark enemy. No oath threatening to tear your family apart.
“I love you, melda,” he whispered. “And I know you still love me, even if you might try to hide it in shame. I don’t wish to be parted from you and Tyelpë. The thought of being on the other side of the ocean and unable to ever see you again makes my heart weep.”
A wry voice in your head commented that he should’ve considered that before blindly following his father into madness.
It took all your willpower to free yourself from his embrace and take a steady step back. You closed your eyes and only looked at him again after taking a steadying breath.
“I don’t want our son to grow up so blinded by loyalty to his father he’d draw his sword on innocents at his command.” I don’t want him to end up like you, is what you were truly saying, and you both knew it.
“Melda-“
“Don’t call me that,” you said, pleased that your voice didn’t waver.
A sickening sudden thought struck you and you raised your right hand to examine the elegant golden ring on your index finger. It felt like yesterday that the two of you had joined hands in marriage, swearing each other loyalty until the end of Arda. To think that your husband demanded such loyalty even now, after everything he had brought on your family.
You clenched your jaw as you brought up your left hand as well and slowly slid the ring off your finger. It felt wrong. So very wrong. You could feel your fëa roaring in agony as you parted it from Curufinwë’s, a gaping abyss left in its wake.
A mixture of pain and utter betrayal flitted across Curufinwë’s face before it hardened and whatever warmth and vulnerability he had shown you was gone at a moments notice. “We’re leaving in three days,” he said in a strained voice and stomped out the room, slamming the door behind him so harshly the frame shook.
You sank to the ground, your legs not wanting to support you any longer and let out a strangled sob. On sheer instinct your fëa reached out for comfort but found only emptiness which just made you sob harder. You clenched your fist around the wedding band you now held in your hands and finally flung it across the room, hearing a faint clinking from where it landed.
The door creaked open so hesitantly, you knew it couldn’t possibly be your husband returning.
“Ammë?” A shaky voice called out and you hastily tried to wipe your tears away, but it was of no use.
Tyelpë rushed to your side at seeing you so distressed and wrapped his arms around your neck. “Were you arguing again? Atto looked so angry.” You could hear in his voice that he was desperately trying not to cry, but he soon gave in. Few things were as distressing to children as seeing their parents – their safe haven – angry at each other.
You clutched your son to your chest, letting your tears wet his dark hair and feeling steadfast determination bubble up in your chest.
No one would take him from you.
Curufinwë would not drag him across the ocean and poison his mind with his twisted version of loyalty.
You were going to fight tooth and nail to keep Tyelpë safe, this you silently promised him, as you sat there cradling his trembling body.
A/N: aaand here we have the last of the bunch! This was all surprisingly fun to write~
Finarfin
Inherited Indis‘ curly golden hair. Wears it almost hip-length and braided with silver hair clips that are accentuated with gems and pearls alike, as a nod to his connection to the Teleri.
Eärwen
Slightly wavy silver hair, as is typical among the Teleri. Wears it waist-length and braided with hair clips that match Finarfin, as a nod to her connection to the Noldor.
Finrod
Inherited Finarfin’s hair. Wears it a little longer than hip-length with the most fancy braids and hair clips you could imagine. After meeting the House of Beör, he sometimes incorporates some of their styles into his braids and hair clips, to denote the close relationship between their two houses.
Orodreth
Mostly inherited Finarfin’s hair, but the colour is more like a straw blond. Wears it mid-back and open with the occasional braids and silver pearly hair clips.
Angrod
Inherited Eärwen’s hair texture, and just like Orodreth, his hair is straw blond. Wears it waist-length with intricate braids.
Aegnor
He inherited Finarfin’s hair colour and Finwë’s hair texture. Another candidate whose hair is allergic to curls. Wears it almost hip-length and open except for when he’s in battle.
Galadriel
We all know she had the most beautiful hair. Curly like Finarfin’s with the colour being a stunning mix of both her parent’s hair colours that mimicked the mingling light of the Two Trees. When she does athletics (which I only recently found out she did quite a lot) she braids her hair into a crownlike shape (which is where the “crowned with a radiant garland” comes from). Other than that, she wears it a little longer than hip length and braided with silver hair clips accentuated with colourful gems.
Finduilas
Inherited Finarfin’s hair. Usually wears it a little longer than waist-length with simple braids and silver hair clips accentuated with gems.
A/N: I know canonically the Nolofinwëans have black hair (at least I think that’s mentioned somewhere?) but in my mind they’ve always just had very dark brown hair. Also I know there’s a corrected version of Gil-galad’s origin, but the silm version is burned too deeply into my mind lol
Fingolfin
Inherited Finwë’s straight hair texture but in a dark brown shade. Wears it hip-length, braided and accentuated with golden hair clips that hold sapphires. Similar to Fëanor, his hair won’t ever hold a single curl.
Anairë
Straight black hair that curls easily. Wears it somewhere between mid-back and waist-length, braided and with hair clips that match Fingolfin’s.
Fingon
Inherited Fingolfin’s hair. Like his mother, he wears it somewhere between mid-back and waist-length. His intricate braids interwoven with his signature gold bands are his pride and joy.
Turgon
Inherited Fingolfin’s hair colour and Anairë’s hair texture. Wears it hip-length, braided and accentuated with dainty silver hair clips.
Aredhel
Inherited Fingolfin’s hair colour and for the most part Anairë’s hair texture, but it has a more natural waviness to it. Wears it a little longer than waist-length and similar to Amrod and Amras, she usually wears practical braids for hunting but doesn’t mind switching it up to a more fancy style.
Argon
Inherited Fingolfin’s hair. Wears it almost hip-length and open with the occassional simple braids.
Idril
Inherited Elenwë’s curly golden hair that is common among the Vanyar. Wears it hip-length and braided with colourful hair clips.
Maeglin
Mostly inherited his father’s hair, much to his distaste. It’s pin-straight and looks black, but in the right light you can spot a hint of dark brown. Wears it a little longer than mid-back and braided with golden hair clips accentuated by sapphires, to mimic his mother’s house colours.
Gil-galad
Inherited Fingon’s hair. Wears it waist-length and braided with hair clips that match those of his grandparents to upkeep the legacy of the House of Fingolfin.
A/N: this is probably one of the most random ideas I’ve ever had. Originally wanted to put all three houses into one post but thought that might be a bit long so I decided to split it up. Enjoy :D
Fëanor
Inherited Finwë’s straight black hair, but it’s not as thick and more on the sleek side. Hair couldn’t hold a curl if it’s life depended on it. Wears it a little longer than waist-length and usually open (except when he’s in the forge) because that’s how his father wears it. Daddy issues, you know? However, on special occasions you can be sure he proudly shows off the fanciest hair clips he’s been working on.
Nerdanel
The most luscious red curls you’ve ever seen. Wears it almost hip-length with intricate braids and has a never-ending supply of beautiful hair clips Fëanor crafts for her.
Maedhros
Inherited Nerdanel’s hair. Wears it about hip-length and braided pre-Angband and waist-length and open post-Angband. Braiding your hair with one hand is complicated and he’s too proud to ask someone else to do it. Short hair might be more practical in his situation but keeping it on the long side helps him to somehow stay in touch with his pre-Angband self.
Maglor
Inherited Fëanor’s hair colour and Nerdanel’s hair texture. Wears it hip-length and open, except for special occasions and musical performances – then he wears it braided with delicate golden hair clips.
Celegorm
The most similar to Míriel’s. An intriguing shade of silvery blond and very straight. Wears it about waist-length and mostly with the signature braids and hair clips of the hunters of Oromë, even post-darkening.
Caranthir
Inherited Fëanor’s hair. Wears it a little longer than mid-back and with simple braids except for special occasions. Then they’re a little more intricate and he breaks out the fancy hair clips – of which he has a variety due to the many merchants passing through his lands.
Curufin
Inherited Fëanor’s hair. Wears it about waist-length with intricate braids and golden hair clips, inspired by those of his father.
Amrod and Amras
Inherited Nerdanel’s hair and wear it about waist-length with matching practical braids since they’re out hunting a lot – it’s become their day-to-day style at this point, and they don’t have much practice with more complicated styles.
Celebrimbor
Inherited Fëanor’s hair. Wears it almost hip-length and with simple braids accentuated with golden hair clips, inspired by those of his father and grandfather.
Hobbies they like to share with you (Maedhros, Caranthir, Fingon, Turgon)
A/N: haven’t been on tumblr in a hot minute, damn. I come semi-back presenting you some hcs!
Maedhros: strategy games
Maedhros is an excellent strategist, and he greatly enjoys games that challenge this skill. Board games or card games, either is fine with him.
Unconquered chess grandmaster of Arda.
He’s a gracious winner and would never dream of making you feel bad for losing. Instead, he’ll try to encourage you, so you keep up your motivation.
He has patience for days (perks of being the oldest of a dozen grandchildren) and nothing can make him lose focus. Good luck trying to distract him.
Has zero tolerance for cheating and is quite perceptive, so he’ll call you out at the slightest suspicion.
Since he’s good at reading others’ expressions and body language, he’ll quickly notice if you’re becoming stressed or impatient and will offer to take a break, if necessary.
His unending patience makes him a great teacher and he’s more than happy to share his strategic knowledge with you. Maybe afterwards you’ll have a chance of actually winning. If he lets you.
Caranthir: cross stitching
Caranthir seems to have inherited his grandmother’s talent when it comes to all things sewing.
It’s a good meditative method to clear his head and it’s his go-to activity after a lot of stress.
Often incorporates elements of Míriel’s designs into his work, as a way of honouring her memory.
Since cross stitching is quite easy to learn, he won’t hesitate to invite you to join him. He’ll draw you in with motives like your favourite flowers or animals and once you’ve gotten the hang of it, the two of you have a lot of fun coming up with designs together.
He enjoys the companionable silence cross stitching together can bring. Sometimes the two of you sit together for hours not speaking a single word and it’s never awkward.
Fingon: cooking
Fingon is a damn good cook and proud of it.
He was prone to starting food fights during cooking when he was young, but his parents scolded that habit out of him very quickly, teaching him instead to not be wasteful.
As a result, he can somehow still make five-star meals out of leftovers.
Even if you’re not a good cook yourself, he’s somehow able to enlist your help in a way that makes you feel productive and helpful. Leave the fine measurements to him, you just worry about the basics like chopping ingredients.
Loves trying out different cuisines. One of his early methods of befriending the Sindar was exchanging recipes. Sometimes it’s that simple.
Very enthusiastic about taste testing. If you have kids, he’ll definitely make them participate to hone their palate early on. You best believe his children are going to be the best cooks in the west.
Turgon: miniature city building
If there’s one thing that fascinates Turgon, it’s tasks that require a lot of meticulous planning and fine details.
He’s fascinated by architecture and incorporates many different styles into his projects.
Is Gondolin really based on Tirion or is it one of the cities he designed back in Valinor? Only he knows the answer.
Once the cities are done, you better don’t touch them! Little Aredhel once thought they were toys and played out a “historically accurate reenactment” of an early Elven settlement getting raided by orcs … she hasn’t been allowed in Turgon’s workshop ever since.
Like Caranthir, he’s a big fan of companionable silence, though in his case it might not necessarily be intentional. He’ll invite you over to work on a project together, thinking it’s a great way to talk to you more and get to know you better, only to end up so deep in the zone you’ll have to do most of the talking.
His workshop is his little hideaway from the outside world and letting you in shows how much he trusts you. Doesn’t matter if you’re not gifted at fine motor tasks and can’t really help him, your presence is more than enough for him.
A/N: i've been fretting over this for some time, so glad it's finally done. i love him sm and yet it's weirdly hard to put that love into words sometimes :/
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
His love languages are physical touch and quality time. Absolutely no problem with PDA, though he tones it down in more formal settings. Not afraid to show affection in front of his friends/family and at least always has an arm around you.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
This man has no trouble starting conversations and he’s probably one of those people who know at least one person wherever they go. He‘s an incredibly supportive best friend and always has your back. Likes to give unsolicited advice but not with bad intentions.
The kind of extrovert who has unintentionally adopted dozens of introverts. He just makes it easy to get comfortable, even if you’re not a big talker.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
You know he loves cuddles and will never turn them down. It‘s one of his favourite ways to unwind after a stressful day – just trap you in his arms and turn his head off.
Normally prefers to be the big spoon, but when he’s feeling down, he will sometimes ask you to switch places.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Definitely wants to settle down eventually but isn’t in a rush to do so. As long as you regularly spend time together, he can wait until you’re ready. 10/10 cook, probably better at it than you.
You might have to occasionally kick his ass when it comes to tidying things up, but he won‘t make a fuss about it.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Would try to be as empathetic as possible about it. He would prefer it if the two of you could still stay on good terms afterwards, completely cutting off ties would be his absolute last resort.
Even if you somehow came to resent him (good luck with that), he’s almost chronically unable of bearing long-term grudges.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Oh, he would love to get married one day, but just like with settling down, he isn’t necessarily in a rush. Since he’s very expressive with his feelings, he’d love a big, fancy celebration. He wants everyone to see how much the two of you love each other and how lucky he is to have you.
Will definitely cry at some point during the ceremony.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He can be incredibly gentle and tender when he wants to and has no problems with being open about his feelings for you. You’ll never be left wondering how he feels about you. Whether you need a kiss, a hug or simply some warm words – he’s got you.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He lives for hugs. Might be a bit clingy at times but you can never stay annoyed for too long at his enthusiasm. His hugs are always strong and comforting, his aim to make you feel safe and protected with him.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
There’s a high chance he’ll be the first one to say it. He’s not one to overthink his feelings and one day he‘ll just have this sudden epiphany about how much you truly mean to him and how he can’t imagine his life without you anymore. From there on, it’s only a matter of waiting for the right moment with just the two of you to spill the beans.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
It would take a lot to make him seriously jealous and so far, you haven’t seen that side of him. Most of his jealousy is playful and exaggerated and clearly meant as a joke – deep down, he has unconditional trust in you.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
He gives a lot of playful kisses, probably preceded by a corny joke or compliment. Overall, pretty sweet kisser. Other than your lips, he likes to randomly pull you in to give you a quick kiss to the temples or forehead.
Adores when the two of you are cuddling and you pepper little kisses all along his throat and jaw.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Due to his open and cheerful nature, children flock to him, and he will gladly entertain them for hours, singing silly children’s songs with them or telling them stories he came up with on the spot.
10/10 big brother, older cousin or father.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Annoyingly cheerful in the morning, even during busy/stressful times. You’ve whacked him across the head with a pillow in annoyance on more than one occasion.
How can he be this chipper when he got less sleep than you? Only Eru knows.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
He always tries to go to sleep at the same time as you (unless he’s horrendously busy) so the two of you can cosy up under the blankets and chat a little/get caught up before nodding off.
The first time you ever saw him without his golden braids was when you slept over at his house for the first time. He had made a little show out of loosening his hair, as if you were suddenly seeing a vulnerable new side of him and it’s still something the two of you occasionally joke about.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
He’s an open book and has no trouble revealing things about himself, no matter how personal/intimate. Seriously. If you ask, you better be prepared for a detailed answer. Don’t say he didn’t warn you.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He’s not necessarily easily angered, but he can be very rash and prone to act first and think later. Sometimes you need to be his voice of reason and reign him in a little.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He’s got everything you’ve ever told him memorised. Whenever you mention something new, he immediately files it away in a secure location within his mind. While his memory is naturally sharp due to being an Elf, he still likes to brag about how well he knows you, sometimes.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
The day you confessed your feelings to each other is one of his most cherished memories. Looking back on it now with the knowledge of what that nerve-wracking yet wonderful moment led to, is enough to make him sentimental.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He secretly really likes playing knight in shining armour, but he knows that it’s often not warranted. You’re your own person and he will usually trust your judgement when it comes to how comfortable/safe you feel in others’ presences.
Not just willing to protect you from others but also from yourself. He’s the master of peptalks and will not stand for you talking negatively about yourself. Not on his watch, forget it.
You don’t ever need to protect him physically, he’s more than capable of that himself. He will, however, not hesitate to lean on you for emotional support. You don’t need to be good at it, for him it’s mostly the thought that counts – feeling like he can be vulnerable with you is enough.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He puts as much effort as possible into everything that concerns you. You’re the most important person in his life and he wants you to feel it every day.
He expects the same effort in return, please don’t disappoint him.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He can be overly talkative and not realise when he‘s taken over the entire conversation.
Might get a bit annoyed at you if you take too much time to think things over – sometimes forgets that not everyone’s as spontaneous as he is.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He takes great pride in the way he braids his hair and is very meticulous about it. You’re the only other person he trusts to do it right and teaching you how to do his preferred styles has been an unexpectedly strong bonding experience.
As for clothes, he certainly makes an effort to always look his best, but he prefers when the main thing that stands out about his appearance is his hair.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
While he can appear kind of clingy at times, he isn’t irrational about it or has abandonment issues. It’s mostly just him pretending to be overdramatic in hopes of getting a laugh out of you. He has more than enough confidence in himself, no need to worry about him.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
As mentioned above, he excels at cooking. Even if you’re not good at it, he will still gladly do it together with you and is always happy to teach you some things.
One of your first dates was probably him inviting you over to cook your favourite meal together and have an intimate dinner.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
He doesn’t like mean-spirited jokes at the expense of others, all of his bickering and bantering is done good-naturedly.
In the same vein, he has zero tolerance for bullies of any kind and will shut that shit down as soon as he gets wind of it.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
He’s a very light sleeper, much to his dismay, and quite prone to restless sleep as soon as he gets a little stressed. He never means to hog the blanket, but he’s very active in his sleep which kind of makes it wander around the bed, so you might end up unlucky at times.
The newly crowned High-King still mourns his father.
Words: 992
Tags: hurt/comfort, mention of canon character death
A/N: somehow i never gave much thought to how fingon must’ve felt after taking on his father’s crown. once i did i got hit in the feels and not in a good way :/
The sky was a brooding grey, it was only a matter of time before rain would start to pour down. You stood next to Fingon, posture straightened, chin held high and let your eyes wander over the crowd of nobles assembled in the throne room. Some of your husband‘s Fëanorian cousins were attending, no doubt due to pressure from their eldest brother.
Your crowns were beautiful – full of intricate details and shining gems, their golden hue matching effortlessly with the golden bands Fingon always braided into his hair. The speech he had prepared was moving.
He spoke in a firm voice about not losing hope in these dark times and how Elves and Men alike could count on him to do everything in his power to help rebuild all that was scorched by the dragon’s fell fire. Right now, it seemed like an immeasurably burdensome task of who knew how many long years, but Fingon had a way with words that made you want to believe in him and share his optimism.
In the beginning, it had surprised you how fast he could switch between easy-going jokester and rallying commander and as time went on it became one of the features you admired most about him.
Fingon’s oldest cousin Maedhros was the first to receive the two of you after the official part of the ceremony was over and it was time to mingle and pay respects. The two men hugged tightly, their close friendship having long been restored after all the strife between their respective houses.
Maedhros didn’t make any moves to hug you and instead bowed and smiled politely. You didn’t hold it against him, you knew that even though you had known him for a long time, physical touch still didn’t come easy to him after his time in Angband.
Of course there was a formal exchange of words as well, Maedhros swearing loyalty to the new High-King and Queen, expressing willingness for future cooperation and the like. You lost count of how many nobles you had talked to during the day and didn’t even remember most of their faces at this point. It was evident that Fingon was becoming more and more tense and even though he tried to cover it up, he could never hope to hide the storm brewing beneath the surface from you.
You tugged his sleave gently. “Let’s retire for the night, hm?” you suggested, and he nodded curtly, evidently relieved by your initiative. You followed him to stand before your thrones and announced that the two of you were retiring for now. More informal celebrations would take place tomorrow. There was polite applause and scattered calls of Long live the King and Queen! as you both left the grand hall.
You closed the door to your shared chambers behind you and watched Fingon slowly walk towards the bed. He collapsed onto it and let out a little sniffle, the tears he had held back all day finally rolling down his face. Gently plucking the crown off his head before taking off your own, you set them aside on the nightstand and joined him on the bed.
Seeing your beloved like this was beyond distressing. The deep sorrow was such a sharp contrast to his usual bright optimism. “Is there something I can do?” you asked hesitantly.
Fingon let out a shaky breath. “Can you … hold me?” he asked almost timidly, and you opened your arms for him without thinking, pulling him closer. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling a quiet thank you. You gently ran your fingers across his scalp, hoping the sensation would help sooth him.
After a while his sobs died down and only the occasional sniffle was left. “I don’t want to be king,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. You knew he didn’t really mean it. Your husband had never had a problem with assuming leadership, but this was different. Your coronation had made it official. His father was no more and there was no more hiding in denial. Fingon had loved his father deeply (a trait that seemed to unite the entire House of Finwë) and his death had broken a part of him that you weren’t sure could ever be fixed.
Naturally, you mourned the loss of your father-in-law as well, but you knew your own pain could never compare to your husband’s.
“I know,” you said quietly and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, burying your face in his dark hair.
There wasn’t even a body to bury. You still vividly remembered the quiet ceremony Fingon had held to honour his father. Standing in front of an empty grave, banners solemnly waving in the wind, speaking praises of his father’s valiant deeds and how the Noldor had lost their greatest king on that grim day.
Fingon withdrew from your embrace a little, so you were face to face again. He cupped your cheek in his hand, letting his thumb caress the soft skin. His face was still stained with dried tears, but his eyes had regained some of their spark. “Thank you for being by my side,” he whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You covered his hand with yours and gave it a little squeeze. “Don’t you ever worry about losing me. You’ll always have your queen by your side, this I swear to you,” you said in a firm voice and watched with joy as a little smile graced his features.
“I love you so much, meleth,” he said with a relieved sigh and leaned forward to kiss you. “I love you, too,” you replied and happily let him pull you closer, snuggling into his chest.
You knew such simple words could never heal the gaping wound in your beloved’s heart, but you hoped that over time, it would become a soothing reminder that he was never truly alone in his suffering.
For the first time ever, Curufin wishes he wouldn’t resemble his father so much.
Words: 1.3k
Tags: Curufin has a bit of an identity crisis, fluff, reader is a Maia of Aulë
A/N: I genuinely never thought the day would come where I write a fic for this guy. Honestly don’t care that this is probably not really canon compliant, this version simply speaks to me so much more. Since it’s pre-oath, I imagine the daddy issues just hadn’t taken on their final form yet. Guess I can still sneak this into @doodle-pops underrated character event 👀
Whenever Curufinwë and his family visited the Halls of Aulë, his father really lived up to his name. The fire of his fëa glowed in his eyes and filled his voice with an insurmountable passion, captivating all who listened, as he described new projects and techniques he had come up with. His mother always stood next to his father, beaming with pride at her husband’s accomplishments and occasionally chiming in with remarks about her own craft.
Today was a truly remarkable occasion. His father stood at the centre of the hall, holding an intricately crafted box in his hands.
“Thank you for so graciously receiving me and my family, Lord Aulë,” his deep voice boomed across the room. “Today, I am here to reveal my greatest creations yet. Behold.” He opened the box and produced three brightly gleaming gems. A collective gasp went through the hall and excited whispers broke out amongst the present Maiar and Elves.
“The Silmarils,” his father continued, “imbued with the light of the Two Trees themselves.” Curufinwë watched with pride, as his father was immediately swarmed by curious onlookers, hoping to gain a closer look at the Silmarils and ask him all manner of questions about the creative process.
He spotted a familiar face in the crowd and a pleasant tingle spread through his body. You wore an expression of pure awe, eyes glued to his father’s spectacular creations. How he wished you would look at him like that. He would gladly rip the Silmarils from his father’s hands to offer them to you if that’s what it took.
Sometimes he wondered if his feelings could ever be reciprocated. The Valar and Maiar seemed so close and yet so far away and to his knowledge, Maia and Elf couples weren’t exactly common.
Your eyes met and you offered him a happy smile, making your way over to him. “It is lovely to see you here, my lord,” you said with a polite bow.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied, taking your hand to ghost his lips across the back of it, delighting in the surprised blush on your face.
“What your father created … breathtaking. We’re all honoured to be in the presence of such a master craftsman,” you gushed.
Curufinwë’s smile almost bordered on smugness. How else could anyone feel in the presence of the greatest of the Eldar? He knew how much work his father had put into creating the Silmarils. How much of his fiery fëa had flown into them. All the sleepless hours slaving away in the smouldering forges had more than paid off.
“Oh, I almost forgot! Your mother showed me one of the new hair brooches you made for her. It was stunning, you truly are your father’s son. With all the talent you inherited from him, surely there are creations rivalling the Silmarils in your future.”
Curufinwë felt an unexpected pull in his chest. You truly are your father’s son. Words he had heard more times than he could count and that he normally perceived as the greatest of compliments, but somehow it felt different when they came from you. Was that all you thought about when you looked at him? How much he took after his father?
He should be honoured, like he always was. Who else but him could even dream of holding a candle to his father’s genius? And yet … I’m more than just my father’s son, his mind told him, but he immediately suppressed that ridiculous complaint. He clenched his jaw and gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I pray you are right.” His façade could never hope to deceive the perceptive Maiar.
“Are you all right, my lord? Did I say something to upset you?” you questioned but he only shook his head silently and took his leave with a grumbled Please excuse me.
He didn’t know how many corners he had turned when he just so happened to find himself in front of a mirror in an empty hallway. He recognised the frame’s design immediately – it was one of the first crafts for Aulë he had helped his father with. He could still vividly remember the pride he felt when his father had praised his diligent work and how he had begun to chase that high ever since. For as long as he could remember, nothing had mattered as much to him as gaining his father’s approval.
Curufinwë stared into the mirror, watching his father’s piercing gaze stare back at him. His face contorted into a scowl, just like his father’s did, when in the presence of his blasted half-brothers.
He tentatively reached up to loosen the pins that held his hair in place, watching it cascade across his shoulders and back like liquid midnight. No matter how much he wrecked his mind, he couldn’t think of a single hairstyle that his father did not favour as well.
“There you are,” your voice suddenly appeared next to him. He tried to hide how startled he was as he turned to face you.
“You followed me?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” you said timidly, as if debating whether or not to regret your action. He couldn’t give you an honest answer, so he remained silent.
After a while of uncomfortable silence, he spoke up. “Is he all you think about when you see me?”
“He?”
“My father.”
“What? Of course not-“
“I have talent of my own, you know. Everyone always says how alike we are. How grateful I should be, to have inherited his skills. But-“ His breath quickened, and he turned his back to you, running his hands across his face in frustration. I’m more than just my father’s son. “I don’t want you to think of me like that. Not you, of all people.”
You moved to stand in front of him and took his hands away from his face, holding them in your own instead. For a moment, Curufinwë thought he saw something akin to genuine affection in your eyes, but surely his mind was deceiving him.
“Who says that’s what I do?” you said tenderly. “I adore you for who you are. Your father-“
“You adore me?” he interrupted you in disbelief. A sudden realisation seemed to dawn on you, as if you hadn’t meant to use those words.
“Well, yes, of course I do,” you floundered, “A great deal. You are an amazing craftsman in your own right and the passion you show for your works is most certainly your own. I love when you come to me to show me new ideas, I … could listen to you for hours.” You bit your lower lip and looked away, your statement hanging heavy in the air for a moment.
Curufinwë swallowed strongly and then took hold of your chin to turn your face towards him slowly. “I … adore you, too,” he confessed and felt his heart swell as your eyes lit up with joy and your lips curved into a smile. “There’s only one opinion I value more than my father’s when it comes to my craft. Yours. Sharing my ideas with you is one of my greatest joys.”
“I don’t really know what to say,” you replied, but the smile on your face never faded.
“You don’t need to say anything. For now, let’s just … I don’t know. Come to terms with these feelings. And forget about my embarrassing insecurities,” he mumbled the last part and felt his cheeks heat up, hoping it wasn’t too noticeable.
You laughed and nodded. “I’d like that.”
A small part of him wondered if this is how his father had felt, when he discovered his mother’s mutual feelings, but he silenced that part immediately. Not now, idiot.
He shook his head, and a relieved smile graced his features. Maybe the Maiar weren’t so far away after all. Maybe – just maybe – he didn’t mirror his father as much as everyone told him.
A/N: trying my hands at these, for some reason it was much more difficult than I’d thought. Sometimes formulating concrete thoughts is hard lol, might come back to this in the future.
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He’s not big on pda, so most affections would take place in private. The most he would do in public is holding your hand and maybe giving you a quick kiss or hug if you initiate it. He’s kinda awkward about it in the beginning but slowly warms up to it over the course of your relationship.
In private it’s a complete switch, you can be as affectionate as you want and he has no second thoughts when it comes to returning your affections.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
His reputation scares away a lot of people, so he doesn’t have a lot of close friends, though he does have several good acquaintances. An ideal person to vent to, he‘s never going to judge. If there‘s someone who understands the need to load off frustration in a confidential setting, it‘s him.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Actually really likes cuddles but is hesitant to admit it at first because he doesn’t want to be made fun of for how opposite it is to his usual gruff demeanour (not that you would ever do so). There’s something about the way he holds you that makes you feel completely safe, like a Balrog could burst through the door and still nothing would happen to you.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Absolutely not against settling down, he starts thinking about it once he feels like the two of you are secure enough in your relationship. Since you‘re one of the people he wants to avoid conflict with as much as possible, he makes it a point to take initiative when it comes to chores.
A decent enough cook, and he enjoys preparing meals with you together – which doesn’t happen often unfortunately, since both of you are generally pretty busy.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
It would probably be like ripping off a plaster – just get it over with as quick and painless as possible. Might come across a little cold, but it’s just him trying to keep his feelings under control so he can actually go through with it and not back-paddle at the last second.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
In Valinor he’s pretty open minded when it comes to marriage and if you expressed willingness to get married as well, he’d happily start planning a proposal – which would take place in private, the thought of a public proposal would never even cross his mind.
In Beleriand, he absolutely refuses, no matter how much you plead with him. Even if you turn the tables and propose to him instead, he will straight up tell you no. He just couldn’t bear the thought of you binding yourself to someone as doomed as him. Doesn‘t give a damn about what anyone thinks about the two of you living together unwed.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Once you break through his tough outer shell, you‘ll find he‘s got no problem with being gentle and even quite enjoys it – as long as it’s kept behind closed doors. He’s got a reputation to uphold, after all. (It’s much more serious in his mind than it actually is, poor guy.)
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Adores hugging in private, he‘ll never turn you down – it‘s a wonderful way for him to destress and as we’ve established, his cuddles and hugs pretty amazing.
In public it‘s a different matter. He doesn‘t mind having his arm around you casually, but full-on hugs are often too much for him.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Has no problem with taking the initiative once he’s certain of his feelings for you. Although it might end up happening in the middle of a heated discussion. You know, like “Why do you care?” “Because I love you.” (I‘m weak for scenes like that, help.)
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
His jealousy is hit or miss. He generally trusts that you can handle yourself when it comes to others making advances (though he will firmly step in if you appear intimidated or too uncomfortable). The only thing that really gets to him at times are the personalities of others. There are moments where he sees you happily chatting away with more easy-going and cheerful people than him and subconsciously wonders if you preferred it if he acted more like them.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
He likes kissing your forehead as a quick reminder of his adoration, especially when you stop by his office during the day. Other than that, he has no real preferences. All kisses are good kisses to him, and he enjoys them to the fullest extend.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Having three younger siblings and plenty of younger cousins, he‘s more than used to being around children. Still not the biggest fan but would never even dream of acting negatively towards them.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
If you think he has grumpy tendencies during the day, you haven’t witnessed him in the morning. The polar opposite of a morning person. Only the bravest souls schedule an early meeting with him.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
More often than not, you have to drag him away from his desk to make sure he gets some proper rest, he’s just that much of a workaholic. He might complain in the moment but once he’s actually in bed he’ll begrudgingly thank you. Also doesn‘t take long for him to fall asleep after that because the exhaustion catches up with him quickly.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
A pretty secluded man, you‘ll have to do a lot of poking in the beginning. Once you have earned his trust and he fears no judgement from you, however, you can ask him basically anything.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
I don’t think I need to elaborate much here. His reputation precedes him, and people usually know not to agitate him too much. However, I don‘t imagine he gets immensely enraged 10 times a day, he‘s just too good at bottling things up until the seemingly most insignificant thing sets him off. Like an annoying cousin.
He‘s quite proud and doesn‘t tolerate any slander of his house – will always make sure to put people in their place. The same goes for any negative comments about you, especially when they are about you being together with a Fëanorian.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
The Eldar have excellent memory so he‘s definitely going to remember most things about you. Might be a little disappointed if you‘re not the same way about him.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
As strange as it might sound, one of his most cherished memories is the moment you let him properly vent to you for the first time. Having you hear him out without judgement, without immediately writing him off as an overreacting hot-head and actually taking his concerns to heart was a reaffirmation of your love for him. You‘re his safe space, even if he might not be able to articulate it properly and he will never take it for granted.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
His protectiveness is on a steady incline the more time passes. He knows that at certain times/in certain company, being associated with a Fëanorian can paint a target on your back and he does his best to shield you from any harm, be it physically or verbally.
If you make any sort of promises of protection towards him, he‘ll laugh and reassure you that he is more than capable of taking care of himself. He appreciates the gesture, though.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He goes all out on gifts, it’s his #1 love language. You mentioned in passing that you liked a certain item? He’ll make sure to save that information in his mind for future reference. Likes to spoil you with all your favourite foods on important occasions, you can be sure he‘ll acquire all the most high-quality ingredients and let only his most skilled chefs prepare them.
A lot of times he comes to you with a nonchalant “Here, this made me think of you.” and hands you a gift that is worth a fortune.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He’s a sore loser and his brothers make use of it to piss him off intentionally, challenging him in games they know he’s bad at.
Has a secret petty streak. Please don‘t enable him, it won‘t end well.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He‘s not one for flashy outfits, but he does make sure his appearance reflects his status. Enjoys indulging in the finest materials. (Which isn‘t a problem, considering his position in Eastern Beleriand.)
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He‘s always been a pretty independent person who knows his own worth. So while he does value you more than anything else, he is also more than fine on his own.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
He‘s a cat person. The whole “cold and aloof” stereotype while actually being soft on the inside makes him feel a certain kinship. Would love to have some but knows he probably wouldn‘t have enough time to take care of them on his own. Now if he had a partner … he might have to reconsider.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
He definitely bears grudges, and it drives him up the walls when people are (in his opinion) unnecessarily quick to forgive.
Doesn’t care for boasting – prefers to let his actions speak for him, not his words.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He can‘t sleep without a blanket, no matter how hot it is outside (if you want to cuddle in summer, prepare to sweat buckets. He makes no compromises when it comes to blankets). This can make him a bit of an unknowing blanket hog.
Argon finds a stray kitten and decides to take it home with him.
Words: 578
Tags: fluff
A/N: another little piece for the underrated character event :D inspired by my recent ask to @doodle-pops – the thought just wouldn’t leave my mind <3
You were in the middle of tidying up the living room when the front door opened, and your husband stepped inside. You skipped over to him with a smile to greet him, but as you were about to hug him you noticed he was holding something in his hand. “What do you have there?” you asked curiously and were stunned when it was revealed to be a kitten, sitting snugly in Argon’s palm, cautiously eyeing its surroundings. Its pristine white fur was stained with patches of dirt.
“I found her on the side of the road,” Argon explained with a frown on his face. “She seemed to be all alone, there were no other cats in sight. I didn’t think she would have much of a chance on her own.” A mix of warmth and pity spread through your chest. Warmth because of your husband’s good heart, taking in a creature in need. Pity because of the little kitten who had to navigate a big unknown world all on its own. You wondered what had happened to its parents and how long the kitten had already been parted from them.
“Do you think we could keep her?” Argon asked as he lifted a finger to caress the kittens head, making it purr happily. You smiled adoringly at the scene and nodded. How could you possibly say no? “I don’t see why not. Can I hold her?” Argon lowered his arm, and you cautiously plucked the kitten from his hand. “Hey there,” you cooed. The kitten let out a meagre meow as if greeting you in return.
“She must be so hungry,” you mused, and Argon hummed in agreement. “I’ll see about preparing some food for her,” he said and made his way to the kitchen.
“Let’s give you a bath in the meantime, shall we?” You carried the kitten to the bathroom and filled the sink with some warm water. To your surprise, it barely made any fuss at coming in contact with the water and so bathing it was a quick affair, when you took the amount of dirt into account.
When you entered the kitchen, Argon had already set out a small plate of improvised cat food on the counter. “Ooh, look at that, little one. So much yummy food for you,” you said and set the now clean white furball down. It immediately dug into the food, chowing every single crumb down greedily.
When it was done it padded over to Argon, meowing impatiently. “You want me to pick you up?” Argon asked with an adoring smile on his face, lowering his hand so the kitten could climb back onto his palm. You let out a small laugh and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“The size difference between you two is almost ridiculous,” you explained and Argon grinned. “Well, luckily for her, I have a lot of practice in treating beings much smaller than myself with love and care,” he said and bent over almost halfway to kiss you. “I won’t argue with that,” you murmured against his lips and nuzzled his nose. “You’re in good hands with him,” you said to the kitten and rested your head against Argon’s arm.
“I’m glad we’re able to give her a home.”
“Me, too,” Argon said, voice tinged with affection. “I’m just realising that we’re forgetting the most important thing, though.“
