A/N: This was such a post to make >.< Been a while since I’ve put some smutty content out there. As for the Feanorians, they already had a headcanon like this answered—can be found here ➳ What Turns the Feanorians On. So this post is for all the other characters.
Warnings: fem!reader, 18+ content, manhandling, roughhousing, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, asphixyiation, power play, hunter and prey, public sex, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, lingerie, pet names, size difference, stomach bulging, avian traits (hybrid themed), restraints
Synopsis: Non-sexual and sexual things you do that turn them on
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Fingolfin
Non-sexual turn-ons:
When you’re honourably defiant, especially when shown with dignity
Holding your ground when others would yield
The sight of you leading or commanding others with a regal bearing
Wearing dresses and robes tailored to your form, accompanied by jewellery he gifted you
Discussing philosophy or battle tactics over wine
Sexual turn-ons:
Unfastening his laces while kissing down the scar on his chest
Moaning his name against his neck as you ride him hard, gripping his hips like you need to anchor yourself
The sight of you kneeling between his thighs after a sparring match, flushed and breathless
Calling him ‘My King’ as you stroke his cock with both hands
Letting him take you against the carved walls of the fortress, his mouth against your ear whispering praises
Fingon
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Bold acts of loyalty, like facing danger just to reach him
Playing with his hair and calling him any sweet terms of endearment with ‘my’ attached to it. Especially if you call him a ‘good boy’ or a ‘sweet puppy’ (he’ll complain about not being like a dog and then whine when you stop scratching his scalp) dog behaviour
Playing the harp, singing lewd or poetic lyrics just to see him fluster
Seeing you ride bareback alongside him—probably challenging him to a race
Roughhousing with him will turn into a tickling match, and then a light makeout
Sexual turn-ons:
Making him wear his crown as you ride him on the throne late at night
Sliding his cock between your breasts while you tease him with gentle kisses to the tip
Begging for him in that needy, whiny and soft voice while your fingers grab him tighter scratching your nails down his back while he fucks you into a bed of furs
Tracing his scars and veins and pressing kisses to each all the way down to his v-line where you pause and make him impatient
Tasting yourself on his tongue as he pulls you in for a kiss after making you straddle his face
Turgon
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Your quiet, regal grace, especially when paired with intellect
Running your fingers through his scalp while cuddling or after a long day. Brushing out his hair
Wearing gowns or robes with flowing, paired with lots of jewellery (or probably just wear jewellery alone)
Your unwavering loyalty to him despite what others may think of him
Giving him massages after a long gruelling day at court and whispering (praising) him for being such a good King
Sexual turn-ons:
Removing your clothing slowly as you ascend the steps to his throne
When your fingers curl into any surface he’s taking you against, especially as he takes you from behind
Letting him take the lead and be in control as you submit to him on your knees
Letting him pin you down, crown still on, as he fucks you with deep strokes
Biting his ears, tugging his hair, scratching his back, just leave marks on his skin
Argon
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Being unpredictable just like him without shame and reckless abandonment
Cracking jokes in the middle of serious moments and making him snort or laugh outrageously
Seeing you completely soaked while your clothes is still clinging to your body. Your silhouette drives him insane
Getting into trouble and dragging him along—he lives for chaos disguised as bonding
Calling him a ‘good boy’ just to make him turn red and fumble. He’ll whine that he isn’t a boy, but never complain about the praise
Sexual turn-ons:
Riding him hard and fast while pulling at his loose hair, leaving bite marks along his neck
Secretly jerking him off under a banquet table just for the thrill
When you struggle to take all of him, but still make the effort anytime you ask for the lead
How sensitive you become after he teased you throughout the day with a few whispers and fleeting touches
Telling him how good he makes you feel—he thrives on praise, even if he pretends he doesn’t
Finarfin
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Deep conversations about music, healing, or moral philosophy
Your scent—your perfumes and even your natural scent drives him crazy
The kindness and compassion you display and give to others
Seeing you wear anything that a gold or a shade of gold, accentuated to your figure
Offering to braid his hair before court, event or gathering
Sexual turn-ons:
Tracing the contours of his muscles all over his body after a session
Sucking gently on his cock while looking up with shining eyes (better if under a table)
The wild moans escaping your lips as he fingers or eats you out, crying out his name like you were possessed
Allowing him to take his time and fully worship you from head to toe. Not rushing foreplay
Guiding his cock into you, no matter the position
Finrod
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Passionate singing and poetic riddles whispered beneath stars
Playing the harp with eyes closed, losing yourself in sound
Praising him for being a good King to his people and how much you adore being protected and cared for by him
Listening to your voice as you read beside him with your head on his thigh
How flustered and heated you appear during arguments, even if you agree with him
Sexual turn-ons:
Pressing kisses to his cock from base to tip with slow reverence, like you worship him and calling him ‘My King’
Making you look into the mirror and see as he fucks you from behind—see who ruined you were
Helping him wash off which 90% of the time leads to you riding him or being pinned against the wall of the pool
Leaving marks on his skin, especially scratches down his back. Also pull his hair and tie him up
When you tighten your legs around his waist just as he’s about to cum, pulling him deeper into you
Angrod
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Open defiance, especially when you leave room for him tease and taunt, turning your little display into a game
Dirty jokes in diplomatic company—watching his reaction as he stifles laughter
Treating soldiers and the people with equal grace
Roughhousing with him, or even sparring and pinning you under him only for you to reverse the positions
The way you roll your eyes and smirk when you get under his skin
Sexual turn-ons:
Waking him up with the sight of your pretty cunt ready to sit on his face and ride his tongue
Digging your nails into his shoulder blades when he pounds into you from above
When you suck hickeys on his neck and bite his shoulders and arms to muffle your moans
The sight of you gagging lightly on his cock while making eye contact
Watching your ass jiggle whenever he takes you from behind or you ride him in reverse cowgirl
Aegnor
Non-sexual turn-ons:
When you’re passionate in your craft and everything around you—the way your eyes and soul light up
That wild hair and flushed cheeks after riding horseback across the fields or forest
When you best him in a sparring match and press the sword to his throat before running it down his torso—the look in your eyes
You have a reckless streak about you that somehow seems to work out just fine
Singing lewd songs or poems in his ear while he’s trying to concentrate
Sexual turn-ons:
Seeing you bite your pillow, or the way your fingers curl into the sheets
Letting him bite your shoulder while he comes deep inside you
When you’ve gone dump and start babbling nonsense and incomprehensible phrases
Jerking him off over your stomach while he pants into your mouth
Pulling his hair and grinding against him until neither of you can think
Galdor
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Loves to see you in the garden all sweaty and vigorous—some dirt on your face, hair clinging to your skin, face flushed
Sitting in his lap while sharing a drink and teasing him
Cooking with him and moaning with your eyes close each time you taste a dish he made (worse when you lick cream of his fingers)
Wearing his clothes like robes, tunics, shirts as sleepwear even though you have yours
Watching you play with children or animals—he melts
Sexual turn-ons:
Letting him lick honey off your body when you suggested that you love his mouth on your skin
Waking him up with you breasts around his cock, better when he cums all over them
Letting him fuck you against a tree trunk, dirt and bark scraping your skin
Moaning wantonly as he takes you slow and deep on a bed of furs
Pulling him into a kiss while stroking him with both hands, your thumb teasing his slit
Ecthelion
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Poise, grace, and musical talent—he’s entranced by beauty in motion
Laughing softly at his clever remarks, even the pretentious ones, even the ones that probably aren’t funny
Wearing something silver with lots of diamonds and having a great taste in fashion
Sparring with him and matching his strength
Wearing clothes that accentuates your figure—doesn’t have to be revealing
Sexual turn-ons:
Giving him a strip tease while he watches from the edge of the bed and tells him that he can’t touch
Hearing the way you cry his name. Sounds like a song he could sing or incorporate into his music
Sucking on his fingers before sliding them inside your cunt
Greeting him all tied up and sitting patiently on the bed when he comes him from a long, tedious day
Sitting in his lap, grinding against him until he’s trembling from restraint
Glorfindel
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Seeing you play with children and be so loving towards them
Braiding his hair before a duel (please tie it up in a bun)—your fingers scratching his scalp and making him shiver
Wearing nothing under his robes except a jewellery set he gifted you for an anniversary
When you compare hand sizes or anything that allows him to compare the size difference between you two
Kissing his scars and whispering praises into his kiss
Sexual turn-ons:
Pretty, pretty, pretty lingerie. Even if it translates to wearing nothing, wearing jewellery or wearing silk and lace
That little moment when you go silent in the middle of him fucking you because you can’t choose between moaning, crying, whining or whimpering
Pulling his hair and guiding his mouth between your legs for him to tongue your clit until your legs quake
Asking him to join you for baths because they never turn into baths
The sudden gushing of your juices all over him whenever you squirt—rawr
Egalmoth
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Flamboyant confidence, especially when paired with genuine wit
Wearing outrageous attire and matching him stride for stride
Singing lewd songs at feasts or making lewd jokes and matching his freak
When you can handle your liquor and drink alongside him
Daring him to flirt and outdo you—he’ll always rise to the challenge
Sexual turn-ons:
Pushing him into a chair and riding him with one hand around his throat
Gasping his name as he eats you out with teasing flicks and drawn-out circles
Whispering how badly you want him while palming his cock through silk
Clawing at his chest as he fucks you against a balcony, half-dressed and uncaring
Letting him finish all over your chest, only to push him back for more
Rog
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Seeing you all hot and bothered whenever you’re angry—he knows he shouldn’t like it, but can’t resist
The little tilt of your neck when your stretching that lets him gaze at the length and shape
Crafting weapons beside him—if you’re a crafter—or helping him in the forges, all covered in sooth
Your confidence is super captivating and ridiculously charming—he just loves when you pull him by his belt
The way you care for him so deeply. Staying up late, making dinner and lunch, washing him off, loving him
Sexual turn-ons:
The way you struggle to not moan too loudly as he pounds you mercilessly in the forge late at night
Ripping open your tunic to get to your chest, burying his face in it like a man possessed
Struggling to take him deeply in your throat and gripping his thighs as he cups your face
The size difference—when he sees the way his cock bulges in your stomach
Watching you squirt all over his cock from overstimulation—he’ll praise it like a victory
Maeglin
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Being his one and only confidant and keeping all his secrets
Your quiet demeanour which allows you to notice everything around you
Wearing black or obsidian jewellery, especially if it matches his own
Standing beside him at court and defending when others doubt his loyalty
Waiting for him with open arms to cuddle after a long day, filled with praises
Sexual turn-ons:
Letting him tie your wrists with a silver chain and spread you open like a dark secret
Riding him slowly, stroking his hair, whispering how wrong it feels to enjoy it this much
Offering yourself up wordlessly, needy and soft, knowing he’ll take full advantage
Telling him you’re only his—and meaning it while his cock fills you again and again
Smiling slyly as you swallow every drop of his cum, licking your lips afterwards
Thingol
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Knowing exactly how to carry yourself in court confidently
Speaking languages fluently, especially when correcting him subtly
Elegant attire, understated jewellery, fancy braids and demure composure
Massaging his shoulders while he debates politics and whispering praises in his ear
Telling him how much you adore when he takes care of you
Sexual turn-ons:
Sliding down your robes with excruciating slowness, revealing bare skin under the starlight
Addressing him as ‘My King’ while taking him in your mouth and watching him grip the armrests, attempting to act composed
Whispering that you want to be filled with royal seed while straddling his lap
Pulling him by his belt into a messy, desperate kiss
Riding him on this throne after a court hearing once everyone is gone, or right outside (wants them to know how good he makes you feel)
Beleg
Non-sexual turn-ons:
A little harmless game of hunter and prey never hurt anyone, right?
Hunting alongside him—he just wants to see your ass and legs in those leather trousers
Seeing you in his clothes, being all domestic and barefoot, whenever he returns from the borders
Hearing you laugh unapologetically
Roughhousing with him. Just randomly tackle him onto the ground, and display your strength
Sexual turn-ons:
Letting him fuck you in a forest after an intense game of wolf and bunny in the forest
Face down, ass up and moaning like you’re in heat (he’s actually the one ovulating lol)
Whispering your pleasure against his throat as he thrusts into you in silence
Taking control and riding him while he holds your hips still, eyes locked
Letting him cum inside and watching the way he kisses your brow afterwards
Gwindor
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Kindness in the face of cruelty—he watches how you treat the people
Taking care of him despite his tragedies and standing at his side
Your excitement over the simplest of things—it could be him walking into the room and you’re smiling like the sun
Reassuring him he is still beautiful, even in grief
Smiling when he cannot—your light heals him more than you know
Sexual turn-ons:
Stroking his cock while whispering how much you loved and appreciated him
Tightening your legs around his waist when he slides into you, so he knows that you want him to stay
Letting him worship your body with lips and hands until you’re weeping
Your eagerness for mutual masturbation because he loved to see you come undone from just his fingers and mouth
Riding him until he’s whimpering your name
Gil-Galad
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Wearing his house colours proudly, displaying that you were his
Tracing his veins anytime he was shirtless while cuddling or after a sparring match (especially when he was sweaty)
Biting your lips whenever you found him looking appealing in a new attire
The way you playfully grab or smack his ass whenever you’re kissing or out of playfulness
Your confidence as his spouse—standing beside him proudly, introducing yourself as a member of his house, no fear in your voice
Sexual turn-ons:
Being all needy and whimpering how much you needed him to bend you over his throne and fuck you
Sitting on his face while he wore his crown from today’s council meeting
Letting him guide you onto your knees and fill your mouth slowly, reverently
Showing off his marks you left on his back after an excitingly, rough night, during his morning spar
Asking for more even when you could barely contain what he already gave you as it spills out
Elrond
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Bringing him rare books or ancient scrolls and watching his eyes light up
Cradling his head while you rake your fingers through his hair as he reads in bed, exchanging ideologies back and forth
Having compassion and understanding towards his past and his choices
Always being there for him even when you had matters of your own.
Surprising him during late night visits to his study dressed in his robes and small clothes in his favourite colour
Sexual turn-ons:
Taking your time undressing him and kissing every inch of skin as it’s revealed
Letting him eat you out for hours with scholarly focus and patience and not interrupting him
Moaning beneath him as he fucks you slowly, whispering that you’re his safe place
Sucking his cock gently, during stressful moments when he refuses to take a break and definitely needs one
Feeling the way your pulse becomes erratic under his touch each time he pressed his lips to your neck
Elladan
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Randomly ambushing him with kisses or surprised affection
Sparring with him and then knocking him on his back while you’re above him
Riding through the woods on the same horse, pressed up against each other. Preferably him behind you
The affection nicknames and terms of endearment, attached with ‘my’
Stretching. Any form of stretching and worse when a silver of skin shows
Sexual turn-ons:
Moaning like a little brat when he holds you down and fucks you rough
Sucking him off in a hidden glade, both of you stifling laughter
Riding him while pulling his hair and biting his ear
Whimpering his name as he denies you another orgasm and trying to grab onto him to satisfy you—so needy
Finishing in his lap while he keeps you plugged full
Elrohir
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Playful combat—pouncing on him mid-training just to make him laugh
Sharing twin jokes only he and Elladan get, then whispering naughty ones in his ear
Wearing his tunic and nothing else, lounging like you own the place
Reading erotic stories or poetry and subtly making eye contact each time you stress on certain words
Leaning against him under starlight, humming while your fingers trace his collarbone
Sexual turn-ons:
Getting on your knees and sucking him off until he’s moaning your name into his hand
Riding him hard while holding his wrists down, daring him to flip you
Cumming on his face while he smirks and keeps licking, greedy and smug
Letting him take you from behind in the woods
When you let him manhandle you and show a bit of defiance like the brat you were capable of being
Erestor
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Intellectual precision—debating him calmly, then proving him wrong with a smile
Reading quietly beside him, your foot brushing his under the table
Bringing him coffee or tea without being asked
Wearing silk robes that matches his dark and refined taste
Whispering clever, inappropriate remarks during council meetings with a straight face
Sexual turn-ons:
Slowly undressing for him while he watches silently, heat in his gaze
Taking his cock in your mouth while he reads, not letting him finish the page
Moaning softly into his hands as he fucks you from behind on his desk
Looking up at him with tears in your eyes, begging for his fingers back inside
Brushing his hair back and asking him to cum on your tongue—then swallowing with a hum
Manwë
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Dancing with him at festivals and reciprocating his little courting gestures
Accepting his gifts, especially the sparkly one that he begged Aulë’s to make for you
Being impressed with his aerial performances whenever he was showing off outside your house or randomly
When the other avians appear around you, you would gently shoo them, muttering that you were taken by a big birdie
Helping him preen his feathers or doing it on your own. Also, add decorations and make him sparkle
Sexual turn-ons:
Calling him ‘My King’ or ‘My Lord’ while you run your fingers through his silky hair
Being completely fucked out from his heat, yet showing excitement for when his next heat would roll around
The way you smell like him after he fills you up makes him pull you aside to give you more
Just the joy of watching the way your pussy stretches around his cock as you swallow him up
Begging for more even when you’re on the brink of fatigue and overly stuffed
Námo
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Never fearing death, but understanding it
Discussing fate and prophecy
Letting him touch your wrist to read your spirit’s thread
Wearing black with silver embroidery
Showering him in the affection he doesn’t believe he deserves
Sexual turn-ons:
Calling him “My Lord” as he ruts into you with abandon control and pent up frustration
Being a brat and sass him back when he ordering you about, leading to you being manhandled
Letting him edge you for what feels like hours until your legs give out
Being gagged and tied up with silk ribbon while he fucks you slowly till sunrise
Wearing nothing but his robes which gets you spanked and fingered
Irmo
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Watching you dance barefoot in his garden among the flowers, wearing loose, pale robes
Whispering your dreams and desires into his ear and asking him to find their meaning
Telling him that you dreamt of him last night or during a nap he had no intervention in, and leaving him guessing
When you let him know that he was your motivation for all your dreams and ambitions
Asking him to create dreams catered to your interests where he can also visit and spend more time with you
Sexual turn-ons:
Letting him visit you in your dreams to eat you out till your shaking and when you wake up, he’s between your thighs
Calling his name in your sleep while he slides inside you like a dream you forgot
Him teasing you when he discovered all your kinks and trying them out all at once, to see you wrecked
Wrapping your legs around his waist as he whispers every dirty word in perfect Valarin
Begging him not to let you wake—and feeling him cum inside you like a blessing
Eonwë
Non-sexual turn-ons:
Practising swordplay with him shirtless and letting him get a little too close
Proudly showing him off as your mate and showing everyone the pretty gifts he gets you
When he sees that you have a drawer or box full of all the items he randomly gifted you
You no longer tolerating other birds coming around and stealing your attention. You let them know that your mate would fight them and win
Randomly building a nest with your pillows, cushions and articles of yours and his clothes, to cuddle
Sexual turn-ons:
When you’re so desperate to get on your knees and suck him off because he deserved being worshipped
Gripping the base of his wings—that spot were his wings meet his back—knowing how sensitive he was as he drives into you
When he tells you that you were still unable to take all of him and you push him down to climb on top of him to prove him wrong
Whispering how much you ache for his strength as he lifts you and fucks you standing, wings extending to make himself larger and assert dominance
Rocking back and letting you do your thing as you rode him on your own, occasionally jerking upwards to watch you topple over
Hello. It's great.🥰💕 Is it possible for you to add more elves or characters to this request? (For example, other elves you wrote)
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Legolas, Elrohir, Elladan, Erestor, celeborn Versions are below. At the bottom of this post, I’ll leave link to of the last one featuring Mirkwood elves Feren, Meludir, Galion elros.
🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼
Yandere/Dark Elf Legolas x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons
𖧧 Legolas, with his keen elven senses and deep emotional connection to the world, would find himself utterly captivated by the presence of the fairy reader. To him, you’re not just beautiful—you’re ethereal, a creature of magic that even the most ancient songs of the elves could not capture. His obsession begins quietly, admiring you from afar, but it quickly becomes all-encompassing. Every moment he spends away from you is an eternity, and every word you speak to someone else stirs a jealousy in him that he cannot suppress.
𖧧 Legolas believes the world is far too dangerous for someone as delicate and magical as you. The shadows of Middle-earth, the wars, the greed of men—all of it threatens to tarnish the beauty of your existence. He uses this reasoning to keep you close, never allowing you to stray far from his sight. His words are sweet but laced with unyielding control “The world outside does not deserve your light, meleth nîn. Only I can ensure you are safe.”
𖧧 Isolation as a Form of Love He would gradually isolate you, not out of malice but because he truly believes he is the only one capable of understanding and appreciating you. He would take you deep into the heart of Mirkwood or another secluded haven, creating a sanctuary just for you. Every aspect of your surroundings would be tailored to your liking, but you would find yourself entirely dependent on him.
𖧧 Legolas’s control over you wouldn’t always be overt. He would gently guide your choices, framing his manipulation as concern. If you expressed a desire to explore the wider world, his face would fall, his voice soft and pleading “Do not leave me, my star. The world out there is cruel, and I cannot bear to lose you to it.”
𖧧 Fierce Jealousy if Anyone who dares approach you would feel the weight of Legolas’s jealousy. His calm, composed demeanor would shift into something darker when he feels his claim on you is threatened. His sharp eyes would narrow, and his words would become cold and cutting “You waste your time with others who cannot even begin to understand you. Return to me, where you belong.”
𖧧 Darker Displays of Affection In private, Legolas’s affection would border on suffocating. He would cradle you in his arms, his voice filled with a desperate intensity “You are mine, forever. No one else will ever love you as I do.” He would press fervent kisses to your face and neck, his grip on you firm, as if afraid you might vanish from his grasp.
𖧧 Legolas is deeply skilled at balancing his dark possessiveness with moments of overwhelming tenderness. He would bring you gifts—delicate flowers, shimmering stones, and other treasures he collects during his travels. He would present them to you with soft smiles, but his words would carry an undertone of need “I found this for you, meleth nîn. Do you see how I think of you always?”
𖧧 The Obsession with Your Magic As a fairy, your connection to nature and magic would fascinate and enthrall him. He would often sit silently, watching you with an intensity that borders on unsettling. If you use your magic, he would be in awe, but also possessive, feeling as though your abilities were something he must protect—something no one else should witness.
𖧧 Physical Possession as Legolas’s need to have you close manifests in physical ways. He insists on holding your hand whenever you walk together, his grip unyielding. He loves to touch your hair, often braiding it with flowers he’s picked, whispering how your beauty humbles him. However, his touch can sometimes feel almost desperate, as though he fears losing you if he lets go.
𖧧 Violent Tendencies Toward Threats Should anyone threaten or attempt to harm you, Legolas would shed all pretense of calm. His skill as a warrior would transform into something terrifying. He would eliminate the threat without hesitation, his piercing gaze and unrelenting precision a clear warning to anyone who might think of crossing him again.
𖧧 Emotional Manipulation If you ever challenge his possessiveness or express a desire for more freedom, Legolas would turn to emotional manipulation. His voice would break, his eyes filled with sorrow “Do you not see how deeply I love you? Everything I do is for you. Without you, I am nothing.”
𖧧 Legolas’s dark love for you is a mix of genuine adoration and an overpowering need for control. He cannot fathom a life without you, and his every action reflects this. Whether through tender gestures, whispered promises, or unyielding possession, he is determined to keep you by his side, no matter the cost.
𖧧 Legolas would often speak of eternity, of how your souls are entwined and meant to be together forever. He would promise you that even after the world changes, even after the time of the elves has passed, his love for you would endure “You are my everything, meleth nîn. The stars will fade, the forests will wither, but my love for you will never die.” In his dark, yandere state, Legolas’s love is a consuming fire—intense, unwavering, and terrifying in its depth. Yet beneath the darkness, there remains a glimmer of the elf who simply wants to cherish and protect the one he loves most in the world.
𖧧 Legolas would be endlessly fascinated by your fairy wings, treating them as sacred and beautiful. He would spend hours marveling at their colors, texture, and delicate movement. He insists on helping you groom them, using the excuse that they are too precious to be left unattended. His touch is both reverent and possessive, his fingers lingering a little too long as he smooths out the edges or untangles strands caught in your feathers.
𖧧 While he is gentle with your wings, there’s a darker undertone to his care. He sees them as a symbol of your freedom, something he desires to bind to himself. He would often whisper, “These wings are too perfect for the cruel world—they should carry you only to me.”
𖧧 Legolas will often wrap his arms around you from behind, pulling your wings flush against his chest as if claiming them. His fingers would trace the base of your wings where they meet your back, a possessive gesture that sends shivers down your spine.
𖧧 In public, Legolas would be subtly protective but in private, his need for physical closeness becomes overwhelming. He always ensures he is touching you in some way—whether it’s holding your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, or resting his forehead against your shoulder while his arms cage you in.
𖧧 His kisses are deep and all-consuming. They leave no room for doubt about his feelings. His lips would trail from your mouth to your neck, always hovering near the curve of your shoulders where your wings start. He sees this area as uniquely yours and uniquely his to adore.
𖧧 If you’re seated together, he’ll pull you onto his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. If you protest or try to move, his grip tightens slightly. He murmurs, “I cannot let you go. Not now, not ever.”
𖧧 Legolas would weave delicate, intricate braids into your hair, often incorporating small feathers or leaves he finds in the forest, symbolizing his bond with you. These tokens of nature are his way of marking you as his.
𖧧 He insists on sleeping beside you, his body curled protectively around yours. His hand often rests on your wing or the small of your back, a silent reminder of his claim. He sleeps lightly, waking instantly if you shift or try to leave his side.
𖧧 Legolas is highly territorial. He reacts coldly to anyone who even glances at you too long. If another elf expresses admiration for your wings or your beauty, Legolas’s dark side flares. While his exterior remains calm, there’s a burning intensity in his gaze, and he ensures the offending elf is kept far from you.
𖧧 Legolas crafts a special space for you within the forests of Mirkwood, a sanctuary that only he can enter. While it’s beautiful and serene, it’s also a gilded cage. He insists it’s for your safety, whispering, “The world outside is cruel. Here, you’re protected… here, you’re mine.”
𖧧 He carefully watches your every movement, memorizing your habits and preferences. He uses this knowledge to anticipate your needs, always offering what you want before you ask. This might seem sweet at first, but over time, it becomes clear that he’s keeping meticulous control over every aspect of your life.
𖧧 He dislikes it when you interact with others, even your fellow fairies. If you must spend time away from him, he lingers nearby, watching from the shadow , ensuring no one gets too close.
𖧧 Legolas uses physical affection as both comfort and a reminder of his dominance. When you seem restless or distant, he pulls you into his embrace, holding you so tightly it’s almost suffocating. He murmurs sweet nothings in Sindarin, his voice low and soothing, “You belong with me, meleth nîn.”
𖧧 His love for your wings leads him to kiss them often, a possessive act that feels intimate and intense. He trails his lips along their edges, whispering how perfect and ethereal you are, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.
𖧧 If you ever try to resist his advances or question his possessiveness, he becomes eerily calm. His voice softens, but his words carry a quiet menace: “You don’t understand, do you? I’m the only one who can truly protect you. The only one who loves you as you deserve.”
𖧧 Legolas sees you as fragile and delicate, despite your own strength. He insists on accompanying you everywhere, even if it’s just a short walk in the woods. He keeps his bow and quiver ready at all times, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings for any potential threats.
𖧧 If you ever get hurt, no matter how minor, he becomes frantic. His hands shake as he tends to your wounds, his voice breaking as he whispers, “This world is too cruel for someone like you. I won’t let it harm you again.”
𖧧 Over time, his protectiveness becomes suffocating. He starts discouraging you from flying too far, insisting it’s dangerous. He grounds you in more ways than one, using his love as both a shield and a cage.
𖧧 Legolas constantly reminds you that his love for you is eternal. He sees your bond as something that transcends time and space. “We are bound, you and I,” he says, his voice filled with both tenderness and a chilling certainty. “Not even death could part us.”
𖧧 His gestures of love are both beautiful and overwhelming. He carves intricate wooden sculptures of your wings, sings hauntingly beautiful songs about your bond, and writes poems about your beauty. Yet all these acts carry an undertone of obsession—his love is a flame that consumes everything in its path.
𖧧 To Legolas, you are not just a companion or lover. You are his muse, his obsession, and the center of his world. And he will do whatever it takes to keep you by his side, even if it means clipping your wings to ensure you never leave him.
ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ
⭐️𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓱𝓲𝓻
Yandere/Dark Elf elrohir x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons
✧ Elrohir’s fascination with you would begin innocently—his admiration for your ethereal beauty and magical presence would seem pure. However, this admiration would quickly turn obsessive. His deep love and admiration for your fairy-like grace would warp into an insatiable need to possess every aspect of you. Your laughter, your scent, the light in your eyes—all of it would become things he craves, things he believes should belong to him alone.
✧ Unyielding Protection As a dark version of himself, Elrohir’s protective nature would grow extreme. Any threat to you—real or imagined—would spark an immediate and merciless reaction. He would eliminate any potential danger with cold precision, ensuring no harm could ever reach you. To him, even his brother Elladan might seem like a rival or a threat, and his protective instincts would drive him to isolate you from everyone, including family.
✧ Elrohir would see the world as too dangerous for you, your delicate fairy nature too precious and fragile to be exposed to its harshness. He would insist on keeping you close at all times, often in places he deems “safe.” Whether it’s a hidden sanctuary deep in Rivendell or a secluded glade in the woods, these places would become your gilded cage, crafted by him to keep you away from anything he fears might hurt—or take—you away.
✧ Subtle Control Though his love is obsessive, Elrohir would initially cloak his control in kindness. He would subtly manipulate your choices, making you believe that staying close to him is what you truly want. But as his dark tendencies grow stronger, he would begin to exert more overt control, dictating what you wear, where you go, and who you see. He would justify this as “ensuring your happiness” or “protecting your freedom,” while in reality, he’s ensuring no one else can influence you but him.
✧ Elrohir’s jealousy would be as cold and sharp as a blade. If anyone even looked at you with admiration, he would see it as an affront to his claim on you. He wouldn’t lash out openly but would ensure the offender disappears—either banished from his presence or worse. To him, no one else has the right to so much as dream of you.
✧ Elrohir’s love would manifest in overwhelming gestures. He’d shower you with gifts—rare jewels, enchanted items, or delicately crafted things that reflect his adoration for you. But every gift would come with a possessive undertone, a reminder that these treasures are from him, and they symbolize your bond. He’d often remind you that no one else could offer you the love and devotion he does.
✧ Intense Physical Affection His physical affection would be intense and all-encompassing. He’d hold you tightly, almost as if he feared you might vanish if he loosened his grip. His kisses would be deep and consuming, laced with an almost desperate need to reaffirm his claim on you. These moments might feel romantic at first, but they’d quickly take on a suffocating edge, revealing his need to dominate every part of your heart and soul.
✧ Elrohir’s confessions of love would be both poetic and chilling. He’d speak of how you are the light in his otherwise dark world, the one being who gives him purpose. But there would be an undertone of obsession in his words, a belief that you are his alone. He might whisper things like, “You are my starlight, my sanctuary. Without you, I am nothing—and without me, you are lost.”
✧ Consequence of Defiance If you ever tried to resist his control or leave him, Elrohir’s dark side would fully emerge. His normally soft and composed demeanor would vanish, replaced by cold fury and unrelenting determination. He would make it clear that escape is not an option. “You belong to me,” he would say, his voice low and unyielding. “You cannot run from me, for I would find you no matter where you go.”
✧ The Line Between Love and Possession In his heart, Elrohir would truly believe that everything he does is for your sake. He would see his obsessive control and suffocating love as the ultimate expression of devotion. To him, your bond transcends choice or consent—it is fate, unbreakable and eternal. Even as his actions grow darker, he would justify them in the name of love, believing that no one else could ever love or protect you as he does.
✧ Private Intensity Behind closed doors, Elrohir’s affection would be overwhelming. He would pour all of his emotions into your shared moments, whether through whispered words of devotion or intense, consuming embraces. He would cherish every second with you, but his adoration would carry an edge of possessiveness that makes his love feel more like a binding vow than a gift.
✧ A Dangerous Protector While Elrohir’s dark love would often manifest in possessiveness, it would also make him an unrelenting protector. Any true threat to your safety would be met with swift and deadly action. He would not hesitate to strike down anyone who dared to harm or even approach you without his approval. His protective instincts, while born of love, would leave a trail of destruction in their wake.
✧ Elrohir would see your relationship as eternal, unbreakable by anything or anyone. He would frequently speak of “forever,” not as a promise but as a statement of fact. To him, you are his destiny, his one true love, and he would do anything to ensure that you remain by his side for all eternity—whether you want to or not.
✧ Elrohir's physical affection is intense and consuming, always leaving you feeling overwhelmed by the sheer weight of his devotion. He's drawn to your delicate, otherworldly form like a moth to a flame. Your wings-so fragile and luminescent-are his greatest fascination. He's obsessed with their beauty and the way they shimmer in the light, often running his fingers over the edges with a reverence that borders on obsession.
✧ Elrohir makes it his responsibility to care for your wings. He gently brushes them, ensuring they remain pristine and free from harm. If you're ever injured, he's the first to notice, tending to your wounds with a tenderness that contrasts with the dark possessiveness in his gaze. But his care comes at a price: he won't let anyone else even glance at your wings, seeing them as a part of you that belongs only to him.
✧ When Elrohir holds you, it's as if he's trying to fuse your soul with his. His arms wrap around you tightly, his hands tracing the curve of your back with a possessive touch. He's careful with your wings, always mindful not to damage them, but his grip on the rest of you is unyielding. To him, holding you this way is a reminder that you're his and no one else's.
✧ Elrohir worships you with every touch and gesture. He kneels before you, his hands cradling your face or resting on your wings as if you're a divine being sent to him alone. He often kisses the tips of your wings, murmuring words of devotion in Elvish as his lips graze the fragile edges. These moments are both tender and unnerving, as his love feels more like a claim than a gift.
✧ Elrohir insists on being close to you at all times, often resting his head against your shoulder or wrapping his arms around your waist while you sit together. His presence is inescapable, his hands always finding their way to your arms, your hair, or the base of your wings. He craves the warmth of your body, needing the physical connection to reassure himself that you're still his.
✧ Restrained Passion Though his love for you is fiery and consuming, Elrohir is careful when it comes to your wings. He knows how delicate they are and handles them with the utmost care, but this restraint only amplifies the intensity of his affection elsewhere. He kisses you deeply and possessively, his hands gripping your waist or shoulders as though he's trying to anchor you to him.
✧ In private, Elrohir's affection becomes even more overwhelming. He whispers sweet but dark words in your ear, his hands stroking your wings as he tells you how much he loves and needs you. He might say things like, "Your wings are the light of my existence, but it's your heart I crave the most. You were made for me, and I will never let you go."
✧ Elrohir is fiercely protective of you, especially your wings. He refuses to let anyone near you, even if their intentions are innocent. If anyone so much as brushes against your wings, his calm demeanor vanishes, replaced by cold, simmering fury. He'll do whatever it takes to ensure that no one else can touch what he sees as his alone.
✧ To keep you safe, Elrohir constructs a hidden sanctuary just for the two of you. This place is designed to accommodate your wings, with wide, open spaces for you to stretch them and soft perches where you can rest. Every detail is meticulously planned, but it's all done to keep you isolated, away from prying eyes and potential threats.
✧ Possessive Displays of Affection Elrohir loves to touch your wings in public, not just as an act of affection but as a way to assert his claim. He'll run his fingers along the edges or rest his hand on your back, just below your wings, letting everyone know that you're his. These gestures are subtle yet unmistakable, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that you belong to him.
✧ Dark Devotion His care for you borders on reverence, but it's tinged with a dark intensity that can be suffocating. Elrohir sees your wings as a symbol of your beauty and uniqueness, something that sets you apart and makes you his perfect match. He would go to any lengths to protect and preserve them, even if it means keeping you away from the world.
✧ Eternal Love and Possession Elrohir frequently speaks of your eternity together, his voice filled with both love and an unyielding determination. He believes your wings are a part of your soul, and by cherishing them, he's cherishing you.
"You are my starlight," he might say, tracing the edges of your wings with his fingers. "And I will guard this light until the end of time. You are mine, now and forever."
ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ
⚔️𝓔𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓷
Yandere/Dark Elf Elladan x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons
⭒ Obsessive Love and Possessive Tendencies as Dark Elladan’s love for you is consuming and overwhelming, transforming him into a possessive guardian of your existence. He views you as a radiant, ethereal being whose light belongs solely to him. His obsession manifests in the way he watches over you, memorizing every detail about your life. From the tone of your voice to the way your wings shimmer in the moonlight, no aspect of you escapes his intense focus.
⭒ Elladan is convinced that the world is too dangerous for someone as delicate and otherworldly as you. He would use his charm and cunning to gradually isolate you, convincing you it’s for your safety. Whether it’s Orcs, Men, or even other Elves, he sees everyone as a potential threat to your purity. Rivendell becomes your gilded cage, a sanctuary where no one but Elladan and his chosen few can approach you.
⭒ Elladan’s playful, carefree nature from his lighter self twists into a more manipulative version. He decides what you eat, where you go, and who you speak to, all under the guise of ensuring your comfort and security. If you question his decisions, he brushes off your concerns with soothing words or sharp remarks about the dangers of the outside world.
⭒ Dark Playfulness with a Dangerous Edge While Elladan retains his mischievous streak, it becomes laced with a darker intent. He might tease you about how fragile you are or how easily someone else might try to steal you away, but there’s an underlying menace to his words. He enjoys watching you squirm under his possessive gaze, yet his affection never wanes—it only deepens, becoming almost suffocating.
⭒ Elladan’s affection is no longer the lighthearted smothering of his usual self. Now, every kiss, every embrace, feels like a declaration of ownership. He pulls you close, his grip firm, as though afraid you might vanish if he lets go. His kisses are deep and lingering, filled with a passion that borders on desperation. He whispers words like “Mine” and “You belong to me” against your skin, reaffirming his claim on you.
⭒ Jealousy and Ruthless Elimination of Rivals as Elladan is not one to tolerate any form of competition. If someone else dares to show interest in you or even gazes at you for too long, they become a target of his wrath. While his actions are subtle, they are devastating—an Orc ambush on the road, a sudden reassignment far from Rivendell. To Elladan, it’s not cruelty; it’s justice for anyone who dares to challenge his bond with you.
⭒ Calm but Dangerous When Upset If you defy him or try to escape his control, Elladan’s usual calm demeanor turns chilling. His voice drops to a quiet, menacing tone, his eyes dark with an intensity that makes it clear there’s no point in resisting him. “You think you can leave me?” he might say, his fingers brushing your cheek with deceptive gentleness. “You belong here. With me. Always.”
⭒ Elladan’s penchant for banter becomes darker and more pointed. He enjoys teasing you in a way that reminds you of how deeply tied to him you are. Comments like “Where would you go without me? The wilds would swallow you whole” or “Don’t you know I’m the only one who can truly keep you safe?” slip from his lips with a sly smile.
⭒ Elladan’s protectiveness borders on paranoia. He’s haunted by the memory of his mother, Celebrian, being taken and tormented. This trauma fuels his need to keep you close at all times, never letting you venture far without his supervision. Even a short walk alone becomes a battle of wills, with Elladan insisting it’s far too dangerous.
⭒ Tender Moments Turn Intense Though his love is dark and obsessive, Elladan is still capable of tender moments. When you are hurt or upset, he tends to you with a gentle touch, his concern genuine. However, his tenderness often takes a possessive turn as he uses your vulnerability to draw you closer to him. “See?” he murmurs as he bandages a wound. “You need me. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
⭒ Punishment as a Form of Devotion If you ever push too far—attempt to flee, reject his affection, or openly defy him—Elladan’s patience snaps. His punishments are never physical but emotional, isolating you further or withholding his usual warmth to make you regret your actions. He believes this is for your own good, a way to teach you that life without him is unbearable.
⭒ A Deep Fear of Losing You Beneath Elladan’s dark obsession lies a deep-rooted fear of losing you. The idea of you being taken from him, as his mother was, drives his every action. Even in his darkest moments, his love for you remains the foundation of his behavior—twisted, suffocating, and unyielding. “I would burn the world to keep you safe,” he tells you with a fervent gleam in his eyes. And you believe him.
⭒ Elladan’s need to be close to you can feel overwhelming. He insists on sleeping curled around you, his arms and legs tangled with yours while his hands rest protectively on your wings. Even when awake, he stays close enough that his presence feels inescapable, his touch constant and grounding, as if to remind you that you can’t leave him.
⭒ In his darkest moments, Elladan’s love takes on an almost sinister edge. As he strokes your wings, his voice drops to a quiet, unyielding tone: “I would destroy this world to keep you safe, my love. No one else will have you, not while I live. If you ever leave me…” His words trail off, but the weight of his promise lingers, heavy and chilling.
⭒ Elladan is utterly captivated by your wings, seeing them as the most beautiful and delicate part of you. They symbolize your ethereal nature and remind him of how different—and precious—you are compared to anyone else. He often reaches out to touch them, his fingers brushing gently against their fragile, shimmering surface, murmuring about how they’re a part of you no one else should dare to admire. He’ll make a habit of preening your wings himself, treating the act as an intimate ritual that only he is allowed to perform.
⭒ Elladan’s physical affection is overwhelming and constant, designed to remind you that you are his. He loves to pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His touch is firm yet reverent, as though he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go. When he kisses you, it’s slow and consuming, as if he’s trying to pour all his love—and his claim—into every movement.
⭒ Your wings are delicate, and Elladan uses that as an excuse to carry you everywhere he deems too dangerous for you to tread on your own. He lifts you effortlessly into his arms, holding you close as if shielding you from the world. “You don’t need to walk when I’m here,” he says softly, brushing his lips against your temple. He particularly enjoys moments where you rest your head against his chest, your wings fluttering faintly as you relax in his embrace.
⭒ Elladan makes tending to your wings his sacred duty. He carefully cleans and smooths them, ensuring they remain unblemished and perfect. These moments are deeply intimate, with Elladan whispering soft words of adoration as he works. “You are a vision of light,” he murmurs, his hands gentle yet possessive. If anyone else even suggests touching your wings, Elladan’s playful nature vanishes, replaced by a cold, territorial glare.
⭒ Elladan’s touch is ever-present, as if he’s afraid you might slip away if he’s not holding onto you. Whether it’s a hand resting possessively on your waist, his fingers threading through your hair, or his arms encircling you from behind, Elladan ensures you’re always within his reach. He especially loves trailing his fingers along the edges of your wings, marveling at their beauty and fragility.
⭒ Elladan’s kisses are an extension of his obsession, a way for him to claim you over and over again. He often cups your face in his hands, pulling you into deep, lingering kisses that leave you breathless. When he’s feeling particularly possessive, he’ll press kisses along your neck, shoulders, and the base of your wings, whispering promises of devotion between each one.
⭒ Elladan is fiercely protective of your wings, treating any threat to them as a personal offense. If you’re in danger, he places himself between you and the threat, his sword drawn and his expression deadly. Afterward, he checks your wings meticulously, his hands trembling slightly as he ensures they’re unharmed. If they’re injured, even slightly, his rage is uncontrollable—he’ll hunt down whoever or whatever caused.
⭒ Elladan often uses his strength to keep you close, holding you in place when you try to pull away. If you’re upset or resisting his affection, he’ll wrap his arms around you tightly, murmuring soothing words in your ear. “Shhh, my star,” he whispers. “Don’t fight me. I only want to keep you safe.” His hold is firm but never painful, though the possessiveness behind it is undeniable.
⭒ When you’re frightened or upset, Elladan becomes uncharacteristically gentle, his dark obsession momentarily overshadowed by genuine care. He’ll guide you into his arms, wrapping you in his cloak to shield your wings from any chill. His hands stroke your back and wings with a tenderness that almost feels out of place, his voice soft as he whispers reassurances. “You have nothing to fear,” he says. “Not when I’m here to protect you.”
⭒ Elladan loves to leave subtle marks of his affection on you—not bruises or anything that would harm you, but small, lingering touches that remind you of him. He might braid small flowers into your hair and wings, saying they symbolize how he sees you: beautiful, delicate, and entirely his. He also loves to kiss the base of your wings, leaving the faintest sensation of his presence there.
⭒ When you’re resting, Elladan insists on holding you close, his body curled protectively around yours. Your wings are carefully tucked into his embrace, and he makes sure they’re free of any pressure or discomfort. He’ll murmur soft words of love and devotion as you drift off to sleep, his hand trailing along your back and wings in soothing strokes.
⭒ To Elladan, your wings are sacred, and he treats them as such. He often kneels behind you, tracing their delicate patterns with a mix of awe and possessiveness. “You are beyond anything I could have imagined,” he whispers, his voice tinged with both reverence and obsession. His worshipful treatment of your wings becomes another way for him to express his undying devotion.
⭒ Even in the midst of battle or danger, Elladan finds ways to express his love. If you’re injured, he becomes a whirlwind of deadly precision, cutting down anyone or anything that threatens you before turning his full attention to your wounds. He carefully tends to your wings, his hands steady despite the fury still burning in his eyes. “I’ll never let anything harm you again,” he vows, his voice low and fierce.
ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ
📚𝓔𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻
Yandere/Dark Elf erestor x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons
✎ Erestor’s sharp mind, typically dedicated to strategy and problem-solving, becomes consumed by you. As a fairy, your ethereal nature fascinates him beyond reason. He memorizes your every movement, expression, and habit, cataloging them with the same meticulousness he applies to organizing Rivendell’s library. You become the centerpiece of his thoughts, an intricate puzzle he is determined to solve and possess entirely.
✎ Erestor views Rivendell—and the world beyond—as rife with threats to your delicate beauty and unique spirit. He takes it upon himself to “shield” you, using his influence and intelligence to ensure no one has the chance to get too close. He might subtly undermine relationships or tasks that demand your attention away from him, presenting his actions as logical solutions for your safety and well-being.
✎ Intellectual Manipulation With his dry wit and logical demeanor, Erestor has a way of twisting conversations to suit his ends. If you express a desire for freedom or independence, he’ll counter with rational arguments, using your own words and feelings against you. His tone remains calm and measured, but there’s an underlying intensity to his logic that leaves you questioning your own desires.
✎ Erestor doesn’t overtly forbid you from seeing others but instead orchestrates situations that make solitude—and his company—the more appealing option. He may invite you to the library for long discussions or leave thoughtful notes that demonstrate how deeply he understands you, creating a sense that no one else could possibly connect with you as he does.
✎ Erestor takes control of your surroundings with an almost imperceptible finesse. Your favorite books suddenly appear on your bedside table, your preferred flowers are always in bloom near your window, and your schedules mysteriously align with his. These gestures, though thoughtful, are calculated moves to keep you within his grasp.
✎ Erestor’s reserved nature makes his affection all the more intense when it manifests. His love comes in subtle, possessive gestures: a hand lingering on your shoulder, his gaze locking onto yours a moment too long, or a quiet murmur of your name laced with reverence. Each interaction feels like a promise that you are his and no one else’s.
✎ Dark Humor and Sarcasm When it comes to others who might admire you, Erestor’s dry sense of humor takes on a cutting edge. He might comment on their shortcomings in a way that seems lighthearted but carries a clear warning: they are beneath his notice and yours. His sarcasm becomes a weapon to belittle potential rivals without overt hostility.
✎ Relentless Devotion In private, Erestor’s love borders on suffocating. He insists on knowing your thoughts and feelings, claiming it’s to better understand you. He’ll whisper promises of eternal devotion, his voice a mix of tenderness and quiet intensity: “You are mine, in mind and spirit. No force in Arda could take you from me.”
✎ Anger as Ice, Not Fire When angered or jealous, Erestor doesn’t lash out. Instead, his rage is cold and calculated. He distances himself emotionally, withholding his usual warmth while quietly orchestrating events to punish those who crossed him—or you. His icy demeanor during these times is more unsettling than any outburst.
✎ Erestor expresses his affection through carefully chosen gifts that serve as reminders of his claim over you. A rare, beautifully bound book inscribed with a personal note; a necklace with a pendant shaped like a fairy’s wing; or even a secret alcove in the library filled with items he knows you’ll love. Each gift comes with a sense of unspoken ownership.
✎ Jealousy and Control Even the smallest perceived threat to his connection with you triggers his jealousy. If another Elf or being shows interest, Erestor intervenes with quiet but ruthless efficiency. He may ruin their reputation, reassign them elsewhere in Rivendell, or subtly manipulate circumstances to ensure they stay far away.
✎ Erestor is not one for spontaneous displays of love; every touch, kiss, or embrace is deliberate and meaningful. When he pulls you close, it’s with a firmness that leaves no doubt of his control. He may press you against a library wall, his calm exterior giving way to an undercurrent of hunger as he murmurs, “You are my greatest obsession.”
✎ Punishment through Silence If you defy or upset him, Erestor’s response is cold withdrawal. He won’t argue or raise his voice but will retreat into an icy silence that leaves you desperate for his attention. When he finally relents, it’s with a calculated show of forgiveness that reinforces his dominance: “I can’t stay angry with you, even when you test my patience.”
✎ A Prison Disguised as Paradise as Erestor creates an environment so tailored to your desires that it feels like a dream, but it’s also a cage. He ensures you’re surrounded by comfort and beauty, but every aspect of your life is subtly controlled by him. You may not notice the bars until it’s too late to escape.
✎ Unwavering Devotion to “Forever” as Erestor’s obsession transcends mortal limits. To him, your connection is eternal, and he will do whatever it takes to ensure you remain by his side. His whispers of love often carry a chilling finality: “We were meant to endure together, through all the ages of the world. There is no life for you without me.”
✎ Erestor is utterly captivated by your wings, seeing them as the most exquisite part of your being. He often finds excuses to examine them under the guise of “ensuring their safety.” His fingers, cool and deliberate, trace the veins of your wings with reverence, murmuring about their perfection. He is careful, almost tender, but the intensity in his gaze reveals the darker undercurrent of his obsession.
✎ Erestor insists on personally overseeing the care of your wings, providing rare balms and oils to maintain their ethereal glow. However, this “care” often feels suffocating, as he restricts your movements to ensure no harm befalls them. He subtly discourages you from flying, citing dangers that only he, in his wisdom, can foresee. Your wings become both a source of his adoration and a justification for his control.
✎ Erestor’s touches are firm and calculated, designed to leave no doubt that you belong to him. He often places a hand on your shoulder or waist in public, a silent declaration to others that you are under his protection. In private, his affection is more intense—his hands resting on your wings, holding you close as if anchoring you to him.
✎ Affection with a Hint of Dominance When Erestor kisses you, it’s never impulsive. Each kiss is a deliberate act, slow and consuming, as if he’s memorizing the taste of your lips. He often holds the base of your wings gently while he kisses you, a gesture that is both protective and possessive, reminding you of his unwavering control.
✎ Erestor’s acts of service are deeply personal and intimate. He meticulously prepares special resting cushions designed to accommodate your wings, ensuring they are never strained or damaged. He even crafts a private garden filled with soft, flowering vines that mimic the feeling of flight, but only he is allowed to accompany you there.
✎ Erestor often finds ways to draw attention to your wings, praising their beauty in his quiet, intense manner. He might compose poetry comparing their shimmer to the starlight, whispering it to you in the library. However, his admiration is always tinged with a darker possessiveness: “No one else could ever truly appreciate their splendor as I do.”
✎ Under the guise of concern, Erestor controls nearly every aspect of your care. He insists on inspecting your wings after any outing, running his hands over them to “check for damage” while subtly reinforcing your reliance on him. If you resist his care, his calm demeanor falters, replaced by a cold, commanding tone: “You do not understand the dangers, but I do. Trust me.”
✎ Erestor often wraps you in his arms, holding you against him in a way that presses your wings to his chest. These embraces are both comforting and confining, a reminder of his dominance. He murmurs soft, possessive words against your hair: “You are my light in this world. No one else will ever touch you as I do.”
✎ Delicate Worship of Her Wings At night, Erestor’s affection for your wings becomes almost ritualistic. He gently cleans and massages them with rare oils he procures from far-off lands, his touch lingering as he whispers about their beauty. His tone is reverent, but the intensity of his gaze betrays his darker longing to ensure that no one else could ever admire them as he does.
✎ Restrained Passion Though reserved by nature, Erestor’s affection for you occasionally breaks through in moments of unrestrained passion. He’ll press you against the shelves of the library or a quiet alcove, his hands cradling your wings as he kisses you deeply. His careful restraint keeps him from harming your wings, but the intensity of his touch leaves no doubt of his claim over you.
✎ Erestor uses your wings as a justification to limit your interactions with others. He insists that others wouldn’t understand the delicate care they require and that only he is capable of protecting them. If someone dares to compliment your wings, his mood shifts immediately, his sharp wit cutting them down with icy sarcasm.
✎ Erestor ensures you are surrounded by beauty and luxury, but everything is designed to keep you close. He creates a sanctuary where your wings are celebrated but also confined—a private library, a garden only you can access, all spaces where he is your sole companion.
✎ Possessive Words His declarations of love often focus on your wings as a symbol of your uniqueness. He whispers in your ear with a mix of reverence and obsession: “Your wings are a treasure, as are you. No one else could ever deserve their beauty—or yours.”
✎ Punishment through Neglect If you defy him, Erestor’s punishment is subtle but devastating. He withdraws his care, refusing to tend to your wings or offer his usual attentiveness. The absence of his affection leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed, a reminder of how deeply you rely on him. When he finally relents, his touch is more possessive than ever, a silent warning against future defiance.
✎ Erestor’s obsession with your wings reflects his belief that you are a creature meant to be cherished and protected—for eternity. He views his role in your life as sacred, and his dark devotion ensures that he will never allow you to leave his side. His voice is calm but unyielding as he vows “You are mine, for now and always. No one else will ever know your worth as I do.”
ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ
🩵𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷
Yandere/Dark Elf celeborn x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons
𖣂 Celeborn’s deep love for you, the fairy, would become all-consuming, and in this dark version of himself, it would warp his noble traits. His initial admiration for your ethereal beauty would turn into an obsessive desire to keep you in his domain forever. Celeborn would obsess over every little detail about you—your mannerisms, your voice, the way you flutter through the trees in Lothlórien. Everything about you would be perfect in his eyes, and he’d believe that no one else should ever have the privilege of witnessing your magic.
𖣂 Celeborn’s protective instincts would evolve into controlling behavior. He would keep you close, always by his side, ensuring that no one, not even the wind, could harm you. His realm, Lothlórien, would become your gilded cage. He’d forbid you from leaving the borders of his kingdom, believing that the outside world is too dangerous for someone as delicate as you. Celeborn would justify his actions as love, as an attempt to keep you safe, though you would feel more and more like a prisoner.
𖣂 Manipulative Gentlemen Despite his controlling nature, Celeborn would maintain his composed, dignified manner when interacting with you. He’d charm you with his wisdom, acting as the perfect gentleman, but there’s a darkness lurking behind those kind eyes. His words would be sweet but subtly manipulative. He would speak of your shared future, of forever, constantly reaffirming that you belong to him, even as he limits your freedom.
𖣂 Benevolent Tyranny He would lavish you with gifts, but these gifts would be laced with control. He might present you with beautiful, rare flowers from Lothlórien, but they’d always be in bloom under his careful watch, never allowing anyone else to touch or admire them. His love would feel smothering at times, as every action would be done in the name of keeping you safe and happy, but always at the cost of your independence.
𖣂 Jealousy in Silence as Celeborn’s jealousy would not be expressed in fits of rage, but in subtle, quiet acts of dominance. If another male elf so much as looked at you, Celeborn would appear almost immediately, his hand resting possessively on your shoulder or at your waist. His gaze would be sharp, calculating, silently warning others to keep their distance. Any attempt to talk to you would be interrupted, either by him stepping in or by a sudden, seemingly accidental change in the environment—a leaf dropping, the wind shifting—enough to send a silent, threatening message.
𖣂 Silent Watcher Celeborn would always be nearby, watching you, but never letting you know how closely. When you think you’re alone, he would be hidden, his eyes never leaving you. He’d memorize your every movement, and no action would go unnoticed. He believes that this is his duty, to watch over you, ensuring no harm comes your way. But it would feel less like protection and more like an invasion of your privacy.
𖣂 Possessive Affection When Celeborn expresses his love for you, it would be overwhelming and possessive. His compliments would border on obsessive, telling you that you are his, that you are the only thing that matters in his world. He’d often speak of his undying affection, saying things like, “You are my heart, my only love. I would protect you from all things, even from the world itself.” His actions would match his words—each touch would be tender, but it would feel like he’s marking you as his, ensuring that no one else can claim you.
𖣂 Romantic in the Darkest Way as Celeborn’s romantic gestures would be grand, but dark. He might take you on a walk under the stars in the Golden Wood, but the entire time, he’d be watching you, making sure you don’t speak to anyone else. When you share a quiet moment, he might lean in close and whisper in your ear, “My love for you transcends time. Nothing, not even death, will tear us apart.” His love, though beautifully worded, would start to feel like a trap, binding you to him eternally.
𖣂 Celeborn, knowing the pain of losing loved ones throughout his long life, would project his loneliness onto you. He would convince himself that you are the one being who can fill the void in his heart, the one soul that can stand by him forever. He’d be willing to do anything to keep you at his side—no matter the cost to you. The idea of losing you would break him, and he’d go to great lengths to ensure that never happens.
𖣂 Rejection of Independence While Celeborn would still respect your autonomy in front of others, in private, he would chip away at your independence. He’d express his distaste for the world outside Lothlórien, painting it as dangerous and corrupt, convincing you that the only place you truly belong is with him. Slowly, he’d aim to reshape your entire identity, until you see yourself as part of him—inseparable, bound to his side for all eternity.
𖣂 Manipulating Your Affection Whenever you express affection for him, Celeborn would bask in it, but it would also feed his obsession. He would grow addicted to your love, becoming more desperate each time you return his feelings. He’d want more, wanting to feel the depth of your affection constantly, always ensuring that you are emotionally dependent on him. If you ever tried to pull away or express doubt, he would turn colder, his usually calm demeanor shifting to something more intense, his voice carrying an edge that would make you realize just how deeply he feels about you—his possession, his love, his everything.
𖣂 Celeborn’s loyalty to Lothlórien would extend to you, but in a way that traps you within its borders. He’d say, “Lothlórien is a safe haven, my love. A sanctuary where nothing can harm you, where you will never know pain or loss again.” But in truth, it would be his prison for you both, a gilded cage that he would never allow you to leave. The beauty of Lothlórien, its shimmering woods and tranquil waters, would mask the suffocating isolation that Celeborn would subject you to, all in the name of love. In this darker version of Celeborn, his feelings for you would run so deep that they twist into something darker and more possessive, wrapped in the guise of protection and eternal love.
𖣂 Celeborn’s touch would be both tender and intense, as if claiming you without words. His hands would gently stroke your wings, caressing the delicate membranes with reverence, though always with a possessive undertone. He’d often trace the intricate patterns on your wings, as if memorizing them, his fingers lingering a little too long, his gaze too intense. His touch would be careful yet possessive, making it clear that your wings—so unique and beautiful—are something he holds dear, and no one else should ever admire them the way he does.
𖣂 Shielding Your Wings As a fairy, your wings would be one of your most prized and vulnerable features. Celeborn’s protective instincts would kick into overdrive whenever he’s around you. He would make sure that your wings are shielded from harm, constantly positioning himself between you and potential dangers. In the privacy of Lothlórien, he’d insist on carrying you if you grow tired, gently lifting you in his arms so that your wings are never strained. He’d often delicately fold them around you, wrapping them in his own presence as a way to shelter you from the world outside.
𖣂 Jealousy Over Your Wings If anyone shows even the slightest interest in your wings, Celeborn’s protective nature would flare up. He’d subtly, but fiercely, position himself between you and the observer, his hand resting possessively on your shoulder, the touch a silent warning. “Your wings are for me to admire, my love,” he might whisper softly in your ear, making it clear that he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else appreciating their beauty. His obsession with your wings would be all-consuming, as if they were his to care for, to treasure, and no one else’s.
𖣂 When Celeborn gives you affection, it’s always with a degree of control. He would press kisses along the base of your wings, his lips brushing gently against the delicate points where they meet your back. He’d admire the way your wings flutter when he does so, his eyes softening, but there’s always an air of ownership in the way he holds you, as if you’re his to cherish and protect, and no one else’s. While his kisses would be gentle, there’s an underlying tension—a constant reminder that you belong to him, even in these intimate moments.
𖣂 Celeborn, with his love for the natural beauty of the world, would take great care in grooming your wings. He might sit behind you, brushing through the feathers with a careful hand, making sure they stay pristine and perfect, taking a personal interest in your comfort. He’d insist that only he should touch your wings in such an intimate way, brushing away any debris or imperfections that could mar their beauty. The act of grooming would be both a sign of his affection and his control over you—after all, no one else could ever care for your wings the way he does.
𖣂 Soft, Protective Restraints When Celeborn feels a surge of possessiveness, especially in private, he might hold your wings still with an almost imperceptible, yet firm grip, as if reminding you that they are his responsibility, his to keep safe. His hands would run along your wings in a manner that feels both possessive and affectionate—keeping you in place, but always in the gentlest of ways. He would often murmur words of love and protection as he holds you, his voice warm yet intense, reinforcing his belief that your wings, like you, are something precious he must shield.
𖣂 Long, Enveloping Hugs as Celeborn’s affection would manifest in long, enveloping embraces where his arms wrap around you fully, pulling you close to him. His chest would press against your back, and his hands would hover over your wings, gently cupping them to protect them as you lean into him. The closeness would be comforting, but there’s an ever-present feeling of being held too tightly. His love for you, though tender, would never let you go, and every time you try to pull away, his grip would tighten, though not out of malice, but from a need to keep you within his reach.
𖣂 His Own Personal World Celeborn would try to create a world where it’s just you and him, isolated from the distractions of the outside world. He’d make sure to keep your wings safe by building you a secluded sanctuary deep within Lothlórien, a hidden grove where only he could find you. In this space, your wings would be free to stretch and flutter without fear, but always under his watchful eye. He would be there to greet you with soft touches, brushing his fingers against your wings as if marking them as his own. Here, you’d be surrounded by his love—and his control—where you’d feel the weight of both.
𖣂 Celeborn would regard your wings as the most precious part of you, seeing them as symbols of your beauty and grace. When he gives you gifts, they would often be things that reflect the ethereal quality of your wings—silk scarves, fine threads, or precious stones that he’d delicately place on your wings. The idea of you wearing these gifts would please him immensely, and when he sees you wearing something he’s given you, it would feel like an extension of his affection for you, even though it would reinforce the idea that you belong to him.
𖣂 Celeborn’s protection of your wings would be symbolic of his larger desire to control every aspect of your life. When you venture outside Lothlórien, he would go to great lengths to ensure that your wings are always shielded—whether it be with a veil of magic or simply by positioning himself next to you to prevent any accidental harm. His obsession would make him insist on carrying you when you need to fly, always making sure that you’re never out of his sight. He would claim that it’s for your own safety, but deep down, you would begin to feel that it’s just one more way he is tying you to him.
ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ
https://www.tumblr.com/earthlybeam/769401164997509120/hello-dear-i-couldnt-find-your-material-thats?source=share
I'm so glad to hear that.
I am continuing my request here, as I had to split it into separate posts to avoid making it too lengthy.
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Below here are Glrofind
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Feren, Meludir, Galion Elros Versions are below. At the bottom of this post, I’ll leave link below to the others.
Yandere/Dark Elf
Hello dear. I was very happy when I saw that you accepted requests for Adar. I wonder if it is possible to include Adar in the fairy request
Author's Note: this is the current highest winning and I just decided to do Eonwe, this one as well as the pokémon one and the other. So, basiclly everything lol.
Taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese
Squishing and kissing Maeglin’s cheeks
He has a very thin face so there isn’t much to grab and pinch but when you do grab and squish his face (much to his shock and horror) he’ll gape at you. And when you kiss him? He is so caught off guard he’ll shove you away in a panic. Red finger prints on his pale cheeks and with his labored breathing he’ll look like a cornered animal.
He’ll demand to know what you were doing, “I was just trying to love on you, love.” You say.
“Oh.” He gulps, his cheeks flaring with color. “Could you, could you do that again?”
Essentially he is that meme, “What is this? Affection? Disgusting, do it again.”
Squishing and kissing Turgon’s cheeks
He is beyond embarrassed
Hates PDA so if you so much as reach to cup his face while outside he’ll flinch back so hard his face would catch fire. (blushing)
He’ll snap his head around while covering his mouth and look to see if any of his siblings saw you and if no one even glances in his direction he’ll calm down.
If you try to squish his cheeks alone he’ll be just as embarrassed so he’ll pull back some while mumbling a complaint about having to bend down so far
But don’t worry all you have to do is jut out your bottom lip and pout before he gives in.
Letting you pinch and kiss his cheeks as he listens to your giggles with red ears.
Squishing and kissing Maglor’s cheeks (Not finished)
“Magpie?”
“Yes, my dear?”
Slowly approaches, “Would you be upset if I stole a few minutes of your time?”
“Not at all!” Glancing up from his music sheets he cocked his head, “My love, I can hear your heart beating from here. What has sent your heart a flutter?”
Frowning he scooted his chair back, “Celegorm hasn’t done something has he?”
Giggling, you shook your head, “No, no! I just, you're so cute.”
He smiled, patting his lap, and you hurriedly took his invitation, lifting your skirt over his legs to comfortably settle against his chest. “I do believe that is a trait to describe you.”
Giggling, you pushed your face into the crook of his neck as he held you in his embrace. After a few minutes cuddling you pushed yourself back a little to meet his eye.
Reaching up you squished his cheeks together and kissed his nose and other random spots on his face.
With one more smacking kiss to his lips you grin, bumping his nose with yours, “I love you.”
Running his thumb over the apple of your cheeks he looked up at you with admiration in his eyes.
“I love you, enterally.”
Squishing and kissing Maedhros’s cheeks
You’ll have to wait and make sure the elf is sitting at his desk if you even want to attempt getting him with your dramatic affection. Thinking Maedhros will shove you off you act fast, giggling as you rush to his side.
“Melda? What are you-” Quickly taking a hold of his cheeks you squish them together and give him one singularly wet, smacking kiss and race off, laughter trailing in your wake.
Stunned and confused, Maedhros ponders exactly what happened, a slow smile growing on his lips.
By the next morning you were struggling to move from your bed, sitting at your bedside and staring at your bedroom floor, no thoughts were entering your mind. Seeing you on the bed Maedhros smirks, yanking on his belt to make sure it's secure he leans over to you and pinches your cheek with his one hand, leaving a passionate kiss onto your lips.
“There.” He says. “Easy pickings.”
It very quickly turns into a game of Cat and Mouse.
It’ll happen in the corridors, at the dinner table and any place that holds no political importance. Leaving his brothers to roll their eyes and groan at their brothers show of sickening affection.
And as the oldest, nothing makes him more happy, annoying his brothers and loving on his love.
Squishing and kissing Curufin’s cheeks
You slowly approached him, taking careful sure-footed steps into his office you observed his still form. The constant scratch of his quill acted as a lure to distract your husband from what was about to happen. Feeling laughter bubble inside your chest you tightly bit your lips,
So close …..
The elf grunted, “Don’t even think about it.”
Feeling your ballooned excitement pierce with a pop, you sighed, his words mimicking his brother’s skill in archery.
“How did you know?”
Crossing your arms you gave up on being sneaky, instead strutting right up to his desk and plopping your butt on the corner.
Counting his papers he licked his fingers and pulled a fresh paper from the stack, “Your first mistake was thinking that I would not recognize your presence in a room. To think I would not recognize your footfalls and the subtle minute traces of your scent, is insulting.”
You raise a brow staring at him and as the minutes ticked on he sighed, “I could hear you through the wall.”
You groan, dropping your back to stare at his intricately designed ceiling. Of freaking course he did.
“Please Curufin? Please, let me have this.”
Circling a set of numbers he marked Caranthir’s name beside it.
“No.”
You pouted, “Pretty please? I won’t ask you for anything else all year!”
“We both know that will never happen.”
“Curufin.” You beg.
Dropping his quill he rubbed at his temples, “Would it really make you that happy?”
“Yes!”
Sighing he leaned into his chair, burying his fingers into the fabric of his sleeves.
“Fine.”
Squealing you grabbed his face and planted a big fat kiss on him. Enjoying every minute he lets you squish and kiss his cheeks.
Squishing and kissing Erestor’s cheeks
Pulls away almost immediately, the elf is snapping his face anyway from you so fast you practically hear the neck snap audio.
He is so red in the face because he is so angry at himself for actually enjoying it and he feels so embarrassed over the fact that he can feel something grow in his heart. And just knowing that he likes being cooed at and loved so “Childishly” with a dramatic flair, he doesn’t want to look at himself. He is a hardened soldier who faced countless battles and struggles in his long immortal life. So being handled like that by you feels so good and so wrong at the same time.
Essentially, he is that meme where people go, “This better not awaken anything in me.” lol
Squishing and kissing Caranthir’s cheeks
Slamming the door to your shared chambers Cara grunted, yanking at his tunic and muttering under his breath.
Peeking over the sofa you watched your love with interest, setting aside the book you’d been reading.
“Cara?”
Taking his boots he stepped on the heels, slipping his feet out and kicking them to the side.
You tried again.
“Cara, my love?”
He grunted, near snorting at you as he fumbled with the buttons, struggling to pop them. His face stood as a testament to his mood, a blister red and his ears seemingly twitching at the heat.
“Oh, my sweet baby.” You call. “Come sit and I’ll help you.”
Ignoring you, he huffed and yanked at his clothes with the strength only an elf could carry. The fabric ripping off his back and shoulders, Caranthir pulled the garment from his arms and sighed.
Finally free of his clothes, save his leggings, Caranthir trudged towards your spot on the couch and climbed into your lap, hiding his face in your stomach.
Frowning, you gently reached into the small box under the side table and pulled a small brush from its contents. Humming a lullaby in a soothing tone you removed his braids and pins and brushed his hair until the tension in his back melted away.
“Hard day?” You asked.
The rumble of his voice hid itself in the folds of your shirt. “Worse than you know.”
Pushing himself onto his back he rolled over to look up at you.
“Can you?”
Grinning you tossed the brush into its box and took a hold of cheeks, “I’d love too.”
[ YOUR SMILE ] it's infectious ── the laughter that spills from your lips and the sweet, carefree smile that follows; they can't stop themselves from smiling too. a smile, to them, symbolises that you're safe, that you're happy, and they could wish for no more than that.
arwen, boromir, elladan, eomer, erestor, lindir, sam tauriel, thranduil
[ YOUR HEART ] sweet and doting, your generosity is charming ── they've seen you give others extra portions of food when you think nobody is watching, given up your blankets despite shivering yourself: it makes them a little flustered to see how much you care for others ( if only you'd dote on them too ).
[ YOUR HUMOUR ] your unyielding ability to find humour in even the bleakest moments is charming ── where there is laughter, there is hope, and they've come to find your ability to make them laugh a great comfort.
You hold up your end of the agreement, which turns out to be more pleasant than you had originally anticipated. Your delight in the situation fades, however, when you remind yourself that in the end you cannot make it more than what it was - an agreement.
A/N: I have no idea if elves hold debutante balls, and they're probably not really worried about finding spouses before they're old cause they don't ever get old but i needed them to for this fic ok ok hehe
Warning: There are adult themes in this chapter. There is smut, it's not too graphic but if you're a minor please scroll. Proceed with caution
Taglist: @batsyforyou @asianbutnotjapanese
Erestor was by no means a good dancer, but he wanted to be sure that both ends of your deal were held up. Under the instruction of Lindir and Elrohir, who had been labeled the best dancer of all of Elrond’s children if not the best dancer in all of Imladris, Erestor became your practice partner. It was the raven haired scribe who waltzed with you and twirled you around and dipped you over his arm to whatever melody Lindir chose. In fact, it was Erestor who became your “practice partner,” for lack of a better word, in all things courting, not just dancing. Nevermind that a small part of you–the part that was still so young and naive and believed that princesses married charming princes and believed that one day you’d have your first kiss and believed in that peculiar thing called love–wanted for it to be more than practice–wanted it to be real.
But that was something you wouldn’t ever bring to light.
That was how you found yourself holding on to the banister with your feet crossed and knees bent. It was a rather awkward position–one that you had never had to assume, but one that you had now found out you would be assuming in front of these elven men that you had never even seen. And here you were, entertaining their reaches for your hand with a bow–a symbol of submission that even the lord of Imladris himself had never asked of you, but was expected of you from these strangers. The thought almost hurt more than the crooked turn of your ankles as you pushed yourself back up to stand.
“I don’t see why I’ll be doing this,” you said as Erestor approached you, “Isn’t it they who should be bowing? They must appeal to me, you know. This hurts my ankles.”
Erestor almost laughed. “Don’t tell me you, the great huntress of the house of Imladris has stiff joints.”
“You’re hardly one to talk,” you replied, “Aren’t you always complaining about your shoulder?”
“That’s different,” he said, “It is the aftermath of a healed arrow wound. That’s something you need to work on, anyways.”
“What?”
“You need to learn to bite your tongue.”
You scoffed. “Bite my tongue?” you said in disbelief, “Erestor, I know I made a promise, but the farther along we get with this preparation the less I want to hold up my end of the deal.”
“I’m serious. It’s not just about courting; if you meet someone with a smart mouth, would you want to be around them? Courting is hard when you act so condescending and snide.”
“All the better,” you said, “Besides, I am not condescending or snide.”
No, Erestor thought, I can just think of a better use for that mouth.
He cringed at himself.
“Aren’t you supposed to be convincing me to want to get married?” you said, “So far it has been hardly appealing.”
Erestor smiled, “Yes,” he said, “But I supposed that while we had all that fun dancing I would teach you a thing or two before this debutante ball–of sorts. Lord Elrond is responsible for arranging it, anyway. Do you want to embarrass him with your crass manner at a party he threw in your honor?”
You cut your eyes. “Embarrass Elrond?”
“All right,” Erestor said, “You caught me. Elrond has asked that someone see to it that you are properly prepared for this party–ball–thing.”
You huffed. “I wouldn’t be to blame, anyway. Just because it’s in my honor doesn’t mean I’m excited for it, or even wanted it in the first place.”
“Nevermind that,” Erestor continued, dismissing your gauche attitude, “I haven’t really done anything to convince you–not yet.”
He took your hand and placed in it a package tied with white ribbon before kissing your knuckles.
“What is this?”
He smiled tightly. “It is a gift. People who court one another often share gifts of this sort.”
“I see.”
“Well, then,” he said, “I think I should be off. Lots of work, and you’ve a gift to open.”
The package was easy to open and its content was easier to love–A creamy white gown with a satin bodice and train and chiffon sleeves with the same golden embroidery all over and a wide v-shaped neckline. It was folded neatly inside the package with a parchment tucked away inside. Written in all too familiar handwriting you read the following.
Y/N,
It would be an honor if you would visit me for dinner and dessert in my personal dining hall tomorrow just before dusk. If you would like to decline this invitation, please inform me as soon as you are able.
Warm regards,
Erestor.
You straightened your back and pressed your lips into a thin line, hiding the smile that was playing at your lips even though there was no one to be hiding it from. Dinner with Erestor had never sounded so enticing. Sure, you had eaten dinner with him–and Glorfindel, Elladan, Lindir, Arwen, Elrohir, and practically every other elf that is in moderate proximity with the lord Elrond or his family; but you had never had dinner with just Erestor–alone and in his private dining hall.
You’d never been there–of course; why would you have been?–and you wondered if the word “private” meant that it was for his use only or if it meant that the dining hall was more intimate. Did he have lots of servants like Elrond did? He was held in very high esteem, so surely he had some. How formal was it? Just dinner? Or “hair done, perfume, fine jewelry, and new dress” dinner? You were just curious, you told yourself, or out of casual inquiry–it was your business to know the nature of the occasion, after all. Wasn’t it?
Your “curiosity” (really just anticipation, but you were none too keen to admit that your cheeks were extra rosy each time you thought about it) kept you up the rest of the day and most of the next day. In fact, you had slept so late, it was nearly time to get yourself ready by the time you woke up. Never mind that you took extra care to fix your hair just right or that you used just a little extra of your favorite perfume.
“So, are we having dinner because you want to use ‘date night’ to convince me to give these bastards a shot, or are we having dinner so you can teach me a few staples in your guide of dinner table manners?”
“This is to open your heart, yes,” Erestor replied as he pulled a chair out for you, “Though, if it were the latter, I would certainly recommend that you not use the word ‘bastard’ at the dinner table. In fact, there are many who prefer that you do not use it at all.”
It stung just a little bit when he was reminded that this was not a ‘date,’ as you called it, but rather a detail of fulfilling your end of the agreement. You carried on for some time with pleasant small talk–talk that had you blushing like an elfling would over a frivolous infatuation–over salmon and vegetable stew.
“Thank you for dinner, Erestor. It has been such a relaxing evening. I’ve surely needed it–with all the preparation and whatnot leading up to tomorrow’s rehearsal.”
He wiped his chin with the napkin after sending you an inquisitive look, but he spoke before you had the chance to explain yourself.
“Would you like to follow me to the balcony?”
He opened the door in front of you to reveal a large, rail-less balcony overlooking the north gardens. To your right was a large table, presumably for outdoor dining, and to your left, a light green sofa with red end tables hosting two glasses and a bottle of wine. You blushed. It wasn’t easy to forget the night you had struck the deal with him–but the wine on the table happened to be of the same make as the wine under which he held you so close so deep in the clear water of that secret pool.
You both took a seat.
“What rehearsal?” he said after pouring you a glass.
“The one for the banquet,” you replied, “You know–where I am going to sit, who will be introduced first, who I will dance with first.”
You weren’t sure if it was the reflection of the full moon you saw in Erestor’s eyes or disappointment. A few more minutes–well, you weren’t really sure; it could have been an hour–of comfortable silence passed before you heard Erestor’s voice.
“Then I take it I was successful in convincing you?”
You weren’t sure when you had moved so close to Erestor, or he to you, but you weren’t sure you were entirely disappointed about it either. You could smell him–tobacco and leather. ‘When did you start smoking?’ you wanted to ask, but found yourself at a loss for words when you met his eyes.
Was he going to say something? Or did he expect you to? He brushed a lock of hair out of your face with the hand that hadn’t found itself cupping your shoulder and pulling you even closer to him. You knew what he wanted when he tilted his head ever so slightly, but what did he expect from you? That he would kiss you, of course. Even a part of you expected you to–even wanted you to; but there was no time to sort out what you wanted and what was expected before Erestor acted and his lips parted and met yours.
The kiss very quickly turned electric as he pulled you nearly atop him. His teeth found your bottom lip. You didn’t mind when his tongue slipped into your mouth, which Erestor found out very quickly at the whine you let out.
You had just begun to sweat when you felt his lips begin to trail down your jaw.
“Is this something you’ve yet to teach me?”
He hummed at the junction of your neck and collarbone. “This is something that is supposed to convince you,” he said, lingering on your collarbone.
“I think you need to work a little harder to convince me.”
Your breath hitched when you felt the tie at the back of your dress come loose. You had found yourself at your breaking point when he let out a short, breathy chuckle–his nonchalant demeanor an implication that he very well could convince you this way, and very easily so. You decided with no inner turmoil that you had no problem with his method of persuasion. Your legs pressed together for a moment, only to be pulled apart so that they straddled his thigh as you found yourself completely on top of him.
You weren’t sure exactly how long it was before your dress fell down your shoulders–probably not that long, but it felt like an eternity. In fact, you weren’t even sure when the rest of it made its way to the floor shortly after, but you had decided that was none of your business, only Erestor’s.
“Is this what you want?” he asked. The velvet-like voice you had always heard from the library and council rooms had become a little bit thicker than you had remembered.
You rolled your hips, and had it not been for your excitement that was only spurred on by Erestor’s voice and your state of undress, you would have rolled your eyes. You were already naked–did he think there was any going back?
“Words, Mírë*,” he said, “I need you to tell me.”
“Yes,” you breathed, “This is what I want.”
It wasn’t long before you were rolling your eyes, but for another reason entirely. Erestor’s movement was steady. He stuck to his reserved demeanor regarding voice, rather busying his mouth with kissing your jaw and neck, and you weren’t sure if you preferred that or if you would rather hear him.
The angle he adjusted to so that he could attach his lips to your collarbone caused him to brush along the perfect spot inside of you. It wouldn’t be long before you tipped over the edge, Erestor gathered from the tug on his inky locks that grew tighter and tighter. You almost felt him smirk into your skin.
“Let go.”
His voice was what did it for you (and something that would later do it for you time and time again, but later wasn’t at the front of your mind at the moment). You followed his simple instructions as he guided you through your ecstasy, following shortly after your with stuttering hips and shut eyes.
His breath steady as he pulled you to rest onto his chest. You shut your eyes and breathed out a tired smile before relaxing in his embrace. You weren’t sure what time it was when you began to doze, but the moon was high in the sky by the time he interrupted.
“Sit up a moment,” Erestor said as he directed you to sit on the bench and stood up himself, “I have something for you.”
You sat, half awake on the bench for a moment before Erestor appeared with a small porcelain trinket box in his palm. You turned to him as he opened it and revealed to you a necklace of alternating amethyst beads and gold cut in the shape of forget-me-nots and embedded with fine cut diamonds. It was probably the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you wondered if it was the most expensive.
Suddenly the reality of your current situation hit you: you, who had all but vowed never to take a husband, stood bare before the chief counselor of Imladris as he presented before you what anyone in their right mind would classify as a courting gift. Was it shame you felt? Regret? No. Guilt? Maybe. You were about to accept a finer gift than many would see in their life from a man you had just slept with and had been repressing an infatuation with for a long time, only to go on about your life, and either remain unmarried or under great duress marry one of these strangers that you would soon be presented with–not him.
“I can’t take it.”
Erestor frowned. “Why?”
“This isn’t part of the agreement–none of this is,” you said quietly and closed his hand back over the pendant, “You are convincing me that courting is appealing, not convincing me to–you know.”
“To what?”
Erestor’s warm breath fanned over your collarbones, and you shuddered at the contrasting chilly air that swept in from the balcony. You had never been very articulate, even in things you were passionate about; so the longer Erestor’s gray eyes peered into yours for a trace of the four-letter word you couldn’t even bear to think, the tighter the knot in your chest grew.
“You know what,” you said, pulling your dress back up your torso.
He swallowed. “One would think it pains you to say it.” You tightened your jaw.
Erestor’s eyes bore down at you with something in between disappointment and anguish, something between dismay and heart wrenching grief that you couldn’t quite place as his arms circled you to tie your dress in the back, ever the gentleman even in defeat. “Say it, Mírë*. Give me that much.”
You swallowed. You knew, deep down, that you owed him that much; you owed him clarity and sound closure for the end of the thing you had been entertaining–fling, situationship, or whatever it was. But, then again, he was the one that found you in the garden and struck that silly deal with you, albeit a bit drunkenly. So you settled. You should have felt a little more guilty about the hasty and half-assed apology you were about to give than you did, but somewhere in between holding your aloof facade and tending a burning passion for the chief counselor of Imladris (some people had a name for that inner fire, but you’d never really been ready to call it what it was) you lost a little bit of morality.
“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’ll see you tomorrow at one-thirty for my dancing lesson.”
Erestor didn’t tear his eyes away from the place you were standing until long after you had left.
Request: Can you write an Indian reader insert story? It's ok if you don't want to share. 🙂
AN: While I don't want to write a specific nationality. I will write it based on the general South Asian experience. I hope that works and you like it. (also crazy story time my account was terminated for a while out there)
Genre: Romance and angst
Erestor:
"How does my love rank lower than yours? What criteria do you elves use to measure the purity of love?"
"I would be more cautious on a sword's end," the black-haired elf moves his blade precariously close to your neck. But you find it hard to care for it at the moment.
The crisp breeze of the night seems to cling close to you. Besides your worn-out clothes do little to keep the chill away. You have long given up the hope of freeing yourself from the binding the elves have put you in. Instead, all your attention is directed at the elf who calls himself Erestor.
An unknown rage fills you as you glare at your captor. Maybe if it were another day you would have begged for your life. You would have done that for the people waiting for you back at your camp. Children and women, for whom you became the bandit of Laor pass.
You had not expected to be caught by a part of elves. It had been an evening like any and you had set your sights on the gracious rations that the party carried. Food that would feed your people.
It didn't take long for elves to catch you. The guards dragged you to their leader. And maybe you had expected scorn but not hatred that lined their leader, Erestor's eyes. "Your kind is not even worthy of friendship let alone love," somehow the conversation had turned into a battle of wits. "We elves know of it better than any. Back then and even now your people side with the evil" One of the guard's fingers dig into your arm as their leader spit accusations at you.
The unfairness of his every word tugged at your heart. How could he...how could he talk of something he knew nothing of.
You press closer to the blade digging into your neck. You look directly at the elf as you do so, "In a world where Gods live in far off West, abandoning the East, letting my people suffer from one of their kind without mercy. In a world where your kind forge jewels with the light of the stars and bid us to fight your battles that promise us nothing but the deaths of our starving children whose fathers fought for an oath-bound lord. Do you not remember the bargain of your lords? It is the same as any other dark lord." The elf flinches as your words ring out loud in the night.
"Tell me why did my people had to pay for your kind's need to create. We lived in peace before your king forged the rings that brought us ruin." Your breath comes uneven. Unnoticed by you, hands holding you have long retreated. "From past to present, we the people of the East have borne the burden of the West. Our people have been thralls in the halls of darkness as you fought your righteous battles. And they have done so for their children as you have done for yours."
You stand up from where you have been kneeling. Your knee throbs with a subtle ache. No one dares to stop you as you step close to the leader whose eyes evade you.
Your voice resonates with a mix of anger and sorrow, and the intensity of your words leaves the elves around you momentarily speechless. Erestor's grip on his sword loosens slightly, his stoic expression faltering as he tries to find a response to your passionate outburst.
"In every battle waged, in every great design, it's our people who suffer the most," you continue, your voice unwavering. "While your kind sits in palaces adorned with stars, basking in the light of Valinor, it's our children who starve, our homes that burn, and our dreams that shatter. Your measure of love may be different, but I ask you this, Erestor – what do your people know of sacrifice?"
The tension in the air is palpable as the elves exchange uneasy glances. Your words challenge the very foundation of their beliefs, and Erestor's eyes finally meet yours, filled with a mix of defensiveness and curiosity.
"Do not think that you know the struggles of my people," he replies, his voice tinged with the remnants of anger.
Next to crackling fire, the camp stands at a stalemate in the battle of words. Pride, rage, and sorrow are the kindle to the burning flames.
Fingon:
Fingon had been traveling with Maedhros when he first met you. A courtier at one of the Eastern kingdoms.
Dressed in gleaming rubies and emeralds, armed with a lute you stepped into a hall full of men and elves. Your eyes lined with kohl and your hands bearing the marks of henna.
In a hall that glares at you with contempt and lust, you do not cower. Instead, you look everyone in the eye. Even Fingon gets to meet your unflinching gaze.
Bending at your waist you bow to the king seated on the throne but even that bow fails to lower your majesty. There is a knowing light in your eyes and a condescending smile on your lips.
"This is Y/N, our esteemed entertainer for the evening," the king introduces you. Musicians line behind you. "Come on Y/N show your elven guests here the courtesy of East. Sing them a song and move your feet to a mesmerizing dance." It seems wrong for the king to order you. Unfair for you to be presented as an object but you do not seem to be offended. Seemingly above everyone in the court.
If Fingon suspected you to be a disguised Ainu at your first glance, his suspicions turn into awe when you perform. The world seems to rest on your fingertips and time seems to blend into your steps.
Fingon's fingers move mirroring yours. He does not know the words but he does not need to know them to understand them.
Your song mocks the king who seems to be blinded by the monopoly over your body. The anklets you wear do not hinder you. And Fingon's breath hitches the second your hair comes undone. As if hearing his thundering heartbeat you look at him.
Amidst the thunder of applause, you look at Fingon. And you smile not with contempt but with something that Fingon reflects back in his own smile.
Hidden in the binding of this body, my soul shines bright,
It yearns for our eyes to meet, bending the rules of wrong and right,
Maedhros:
"I will marry an elf." The loud declaration silences the entire camp. It is followed by cursing voices and sounds of shushing pleas.
However, in doing so it garners the attention of the elf lord, Maehros. The one who seeks to reunite the East and the West of Middle Earth to defeat the Dark Lord.
While men fawning over elves had been no surprise for most, it was at this point an irrefutable fact. The secondborn seemed to be attracted to the firstborn like moths to a flame.
But this kind of open declaration was still...unheard of. Both elves and men had acknowledged the weird attraction and mutually decided to ignore the innate instinct.
This silent treaty breaks with you. And Maedhros cannot help but be intrigued. So, he hunts for you. Away from prying eyes that would cook rumors, Maedhros finds you by the vegetable garden that seems to have the entirety of your attention.
"Why must you marry an elf?" The eldest Feanorian tries not to laugh when you jump almost a foot high at his unannounced arrival. The shovel in your hand flying away.
With a hand on your chest, you turn to look at him. A frown adorns your forehead, "Ai, can you not scare me?" You do not address him as a lord or a prince. Maybe just don't know or maybe you do not care for it but Maedhros cannot find it in himself to take offense.
"Forgive me for that," Maedhros apologizes and much to his surprise you look nothing like the embarrassed woman he had expected to confront.
Instead, with the confidence of a preening peacock you seat yourself on the ground. "It's quiet alright. I do have to get used to it if I am to marry one of your kind," you understandingly nod. And Maedhos marvels at your nativity. Unblemished in the Adra that has been marred.
"I want to marry an elf to teach all the men of my community a lesson." You reply in a solemn voice. "I grew up watching my father beating my mother. My grandfather insulting my grandmother without a care of her heart. I grew up in the patriarchy of the East. With men who cared not an ounce about their partners." Maedhros cannot bring himself to speak. Not even when you sniff. There is pain there. Helplessness of a being he deemed to be untouched by anything mal a moment ago.
A pain that rips his heart. The tears of his own mother come to his mind. Deed of his father and his brothers that would haunt their mother.
So he listens attentively as you continue with determination in your voice. "I will marry an elf to teach every single man in my life a lesson. I will show them how much my husband will love me," you smile through your tears. It isn't blind infatuation that Maedhros expected but something deeper.
"Your kind treat your female so much better and I...I want that for my kind too. I want to hand back my sisters, my mother, my aunts their self-respect that men have rolled in dirt."
A sane part of Maedhros yearns to tell you of elves. Of how his father left his mother, how his grandfather married another, how Thingol discards the wisdom of his wife, or how Eol captured Aerdhel.
But he cannot. All he can do is, pat your head in a comforting gesture and pray for the success of your mission.
"Will you marry me then?" you propose to the Feanorian who snorts the very next moment.
Pairing: Erestor x Reader (but it is pre-relationship... but they already love each other dearly)
Warnings: talk about attempted s*xual assault (but nothing actually happend)
Summary: After a party in Imladris, the reader flees to Erestor's office after being harassed by others. He would do anything to make her feel better.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Erestor was just finishing a report when you stormed into his office and closed the door behind you, as if you were afraid someone would follow you.
That was unusual behaviour for you. You'd been an elf helping him out in the library for some time now and for some reason got along with his grim demeanour, and normally you always knocked respectfully on the door and waited for him to invite you in before entering a room.
But you didn't do that this time.
But that wasn't all Erestor found strange. There was a big party going on in Imladris that most young elves like you were looking forward to, and judging by the dress you were wearing, you had been there too. It was embroidered with floral patterns, had wide white sleeves and hugged the wonderful curves of your body close until it ended in ruffles below your knees. Erestor had seen you before the party started and had hurried not to stare at you too much, because he knew that once he had started he couldn't stop.
You were beautiful in that dress, so why did you look like you'd seen a ghost?
"Is everything all right?" he asked in a calm voice. He didn't like the way your body was shaking, so he decided to make his voice sound a little softer.
You started waving your hands around and looked down at the ground. He could practically hear your heart beating. What had happened?
Because even if Erestor pretended to be cold on the outside, he wasn't, especially not with you.
He didn't think you two would actually get together, simply because you were much younger than him and had more happiness for life, but also because you deserved someone better than him, but when you needed something like comfort or someone to listen, he was there. He would always be there.
Erestor stood up slowly so as not to startle you and walked around his desk until he was standing in front of you, leaning on the edge of the desk.
"You can tell me anything."
You looked up and his heart broke as he saw tears running down your beautiful cheeks. "I - I was at the party." You began carefully and Erestor nodded to show you that he was listening.
But then you interrupted yourself and shook your head. "I do not desire to burden you with my problems- I- "You paused.
Erestor swallowed. Had he still not shown you successfully enough that he would always help you?
"Do not worry about it. Please tell me."
"All right," you said slowly and wrapped your arms around yourself. Erestor could practically feel how uncomfortable you were and hoped that it would get better once you had managed to talk about it.
"So," you began, "I was at the party and there were these other elven men. After Arwen snuck off to meet Aragorn in secret, I was standing there alone. That- that was okay! I would not dance with anyone anyway except- "you interrupted yourself. Your eyes travelled briefly up to Erestor and then back down to the floor. "So I decided to leave, but- but they followed me and- " a sob escaped you. More tears rolled down your cheeks and Erestor could only watch as your shoulders shook. "And- and they tried- "You gestured to your body and then pressed a hand over your mouth to stifle your sobs.
Erestor immediately understood what you were getting at and anger rose up inside him. Not at you, but at those ellons! How dare they harass someone as wonderful and kind as you.
He tried to keep his voice calm, but it trembled: "Have they done something to you? Are you hurt?"
You shook your head. "Celebrían must have sensed something was wrong. I- I cannot remember everything clearly, but I think she hit one of them in the face. When Elrond came to her aid, I ran off and... I came here."
"And that is perfectly all right. No matter the time, you are always welcome if you need help or just need someone to talk to." he said gently.
"Thank you." you breathed, but you were still crying.
Slowly, he stepped closer to you and asked softly, "Is there any way I can help you? Do you want a hug or should I take you to your room and keep watch outside the door?"
Erestor knew that he was letting his feelings run free far too visibly, but he couldn't help it when he saw his favourite person in all of Middle-earth and Valinor so sad.
You lifted your gaze and looked at him through your tear-filled eyes before more tears ran down your cheeks and you stretched out your arms to him. He understood immediately and carefully stepped closer to you.
He carefully pulled you to his chest and began to stroke your back and hair as gently as possible. Erestor felt the need to pull you impossibly close and shield you from the world, but after what had happened to you that evening, it was probably better if he touched you gently. After all, he wanted to make you feel better and not worse.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door that made you flinched. Erestor whispered gently: "It is okay, do not worry. I will protect you." Before he said louder, "Come in."
The door opened a crack and Celebrían looked inside. When she saw you in Erestor's arms, a soft smile played around her lips. "I just wanted to see if you were all right," she said softly, "Elrond has thrown them out." She nodded gratefully to Erestor and then said, "I will see you tomorrow, I will leave you two alone now." Then she disappeared again.
"Erestor?" you asked quietly.
"Yes?"
"I - I came here because- because I feel safer with you than I do with anyone else," you admitted quietly.
Erestor felt his heart begin to pound harder at this confession. He liked that you saw him as a safe place.
"You do not need to be afraid anymore," he whispered before hesitantly pressing a kiss to your hair, "I will not leave your side tonight."
Hi! Can I request a Imladris elves Horse AU? I love your horse AU :) congrats on the 500 followers!
(I left Glorfindel out since he already has a headcanon. He does get mentioned though. Hope you like it!)
Warnings: some horses being mischievous, Erestor is a grump, some spooky mystical things happening, some falling, biting, wandering off, and mentions of disappearances.
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- You loved horses when you were young. Those creatures always looked majestic and something out of fairy tales.
- You would never miss a riding class with your favorite pony and sometimes nagged your parents to let you ride a horse. They didn't since you were too small and young to sit on a full-grown horse. They only allowed it when they were the ones riding the horse, and you would sit in front and shriek in delight when they started galloping.
- You were so obsessed with horses that you sometimes wandered in forests, trying to find a mythical horse. It always made your family freak out and scold you not to go alone in the woods.
- You even remember being jealous of your older sibling when they got their own horse.
- But as time passed and you reached your teens, you began to outgrow your horse fantasies and found other interests. Owning a horse and taking classes was quite costly, so you sought something cheaper and an easier career path.
- Your family was quite involved with horses, and most of your older relatives have been horse riders, so it was nearly a traditional thing. However, your family respected your life choices and did not try forcing you to become a horse rider as well.
- Imladris was a famous horse stable where you had spent most of your childhood with your older sibling. You knew the owner and were familiar with most of the horses that lived there.
- It was a lovely place located near mountains and rivers. The forest paths were filled with wildlife and were commonly known for the nightingales that lived there. Riding there felt like the whole forest was singing. It also felt like a home to the riders as to the horses. It is a wondrous place.
- One day, when you were visiting your family. Your older sibling asked you to watch their horse and a couple of others since they were so thin on caretakers and they desperately needed to attend other things in their lives.
- You were on vacation from your current career path, so you agreed.
- Your older sibling was grateful, and since you were familiar with most things you needed to do while caring for the horses. They simply introduced you to the necessary tasks and the other horses that were going to be in your care.
- Elrond, Celebrian, Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Erestor and Lindir.
- You knew Elrond since he was your sibling’s horse. You simply adore him. You knew Celebrian since she lived in the same stable, and from what you heard, she and Elrond were technically married. You haven’t met their kids but heard how beautiful they are. The twins are named Elladan and Elrohir, and the daughter is Arwen. You also knew Erestor and that he was a crump. Lindir was someone new to you.
- And with all things settled. You stayed at your family’s house, and your sibling was off to the cruel world of jobs and schools.
Elrond
- Elrond was a beautiful dark brown stallion with a star mark over his forehead. You had heard it was a common trait from his family tree. He was the infamous mare’s Luthien’s great-grandson and even had a twin who lived in another stable named Elros.
- Elrond is a lovable horse, perhaps one of the most gentle horses in the whole existence. He was happy to see you when you showed up at the stable. He gave you a cheerful neigh as a greeting, and it only made you smile as you petted him and gave him a treat.
- It was like you two were old friends, and it was true in a way.
- Elrond was an experienced dressage horse and has done show jumping in the past. Most of the time now, he’s used during riding classes for new young riders to help them get experience, and he’s very gentle with them.
- He’s pretty much everyone’s favorite horse.
- He was gentle with you too when you rode him for the first time. You felt nervous since you hadn’t ridden in a long time, but he was patient and always stopped when you had trouble adjusting your position or the stirrups.
- He’s just so patient, and thanks to him, you gained some experience in riding and became more confident. You finally understood why the younger riders would want to ride him first than any other horse.
- He was easy to clean and seemed to be okay with everything. You thought there was at least one thing he didn’t like, but no. He didn’t even mind getting washed with water than most horses who would either hate it or be scared of it. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy taking baths.
- There was one thing he didn’t like – the riding crop. He would walk away from the sight, which felt a bit strange since your sibling had used a crop in the past till you heard he had some rowdy kids who used the crop violently during classes. He then began disliking it and refused to come out of the pasture or his stall if he saw a crop.
- It was understandable, so you ensured to never bring a crop when it was time for an exercise or a riding session.
- One adorable thing about him was how he would act around Celebrian. The two would always hang out in the pasture and care for each other. The two were like a married couple. You heard there was once an incident where Celebrian was supposed to move away to another stable but the two caused a fuss and refused to separate from each other, so Celebrian’s owner had to relent and allow Celebrian to stay at Imladris to be with Elrond.
- It sounded like a deep romance drama and you were happy the two were allowed to stay together.
+ 100 / 10 Elrond is a sweetheart. If ‘kind as a summer’ was a horse– he would be it. He doesn’t cause any trouble, and he’s sometimes helpful when you are dealing with his kids. There was nothing negative you could say about him, especially considering that you've known him for most of your life.
Celebrian
- A beautiful white mare with slight silver in her mane. Elrond’s wife and a very adventurous horse.
- You have known Celebrian nearly as long as you have known Elrond. She's affectionate and has an adventurous personality; she enjoys wandering far in her pasture and the woods during rides.
- She’s also the twins and Arwen’s mother.
- You have heard her mother was Galadriel, one of the most beautiful horses from Finarfin’s family tree. This was intriguing since it meant that two horses from well-known family trees came together and produced three lovely foals.
- However, unlike Elrond, Celebrian was troublesome in a way.
- She can sometimes be a little airhead and wander off for long periods. You would either need a search party or Elrond to call her back whenever she goes missing.
- She likes to play a lot on the dirty grounds, so keeping her clean was a workout.
- Sometimes, she likes to tease you during exercises and classes, especially when you are on her back, just to get a reaction out of you. You don’t like it, but at least you learned how to grow stronger nerves and confidence with troublesome horses. She was technically level 2 after Elrond.
- She enjoys forest runs and tends to be a bit dramatic when it comes to work.
- However, she’s soft toward Elrond and would not leave him alone, and she’s very stern with her kids even if they are already grown young horses.
+ 10/10 You like her even if she constantly teases you and gets dirty most of the time. You would appreciate it if she would stop wandering off so much. It’s a real trouble to get her back.
Elladan and Elrohir
- Elladan and Elrohir are two dark horses with brown tones in their mane. They share the same forehead star marking and are one of the rare pairs of twin horses.
- It is a bit surprising since Elrond has a twin too, and there was another pair of twin horses from his family tree. Three generations of twin horses. What are the odds?
- The two are energetic and nearly as troublesome as their mother as they seemed to take it to themselves to test your nerves as well.
- They have a tendency to steal brushes and equipment, and sometimes they steal food from the storage. And they always grin at you after you catch them in their criminal act.
- They like to play with the hose when they are in the pasture and you are trying to refill their water trough. It would get messy, and you would always get wet from all the water they throw around.
- They are not your favorites, and you nearly lose your patience with them every time they are on to their mischief. They sometimes earn a laugh or two from you from their antics. And you think it had become a challenge for them to make you laugh since they would grin after making you laugh.
- You are so glad they never do anything damaging.
- Luckily, they take riding and shows seriously. Elladan specialized in dressage, while Elrohir excelled in show jumping. Sometimes, they even rode together in shows.
- They are pretty tame toward their riders and even the youngest who want to ride them. However, due to their mischievous nature toward you, you do not dare to ride them and let them usually run around together on the field, sometimes making them jump.
- You were not going to risk it with their shenanigans.
7 / 10 You find their antics sometimes funny, but they make you mistrust them. You do not like how they get messy and cause you a headache most of the time.
Arwen
- A beautiful black mare with a similar forehead star like her brothers and father.
- Arwen is a friendly horse. She’s sweet toward you and anyone she meets, but she has taken after her mother and gained a habit of wandering off into the woods and going missing for some time. Luckily, she comes back before nightfall, so she doesn’t cause you a total heart attack as her mother does most of the time.
- It seems that Celebrian’s wandering trait is going to be a recurring thing.
- Strangely, you had noticed that Arwen’s urge to wander into the woods was much stronger than with Celebrian. It might have been a family thing since you had heard Luthien and Elrond’s mother, Elwing, had a strong tendency to get lost in the woods too, so it might not be Celebrian’s trait that was kicking in Arwen.
- It could have also been related to the incident with Luthien’s father, Thingol, and the mystery mare that was never found after he was finally found alone in the woods with his newborn foal.
- You remembered reading about it in the newspapers; it was still a mystery with no logical answers. People assumed it was a wild mare, but Thingol’s owner once claimed strange things began happening around Luthien when she lived under their care as a foal. If the owner of Luthien's father could assert that something was not right, then there was no way the mare could have been just an ordinary wild horse.
- Whatever it was, it was a thing of the past. You just have to keep a watchful eye on Arwen, and things will be fine.
- You two got along well. Arwen was used in riding classes, and the youngsters adored her, but sometimes she was used in vaulting, and you always found it fascinating to watch as her rider and other beginners did complex tricks on her back. You would never dare to do anything like that, especially the flips.
- You have heard she had won several horse shows, and she was considered just as beautiful as Luthien, and the two are nearly a look alike.
- Arwen enjoys it when you bring her on rides through the forest, especially with her family. These riding trips often lead to funny mishaps, such as taking a dip in the river or racing beneath the trees.
- However, you sometimes get an odd sensation of being watched when riding through the forests. It was a spooky feeling, and you do not know why, but sometimes, you think you can see a horse wandering behind the trees or hear its voice. Yet, when you investigate, you find nothing – it's as if you've seen a ghost.
- You shared your experience with Arwen's owner, and they revealed that they had similar incidents in the past. The owners of Elwing and Luthien had also mentioned feeling watched and followed in the woods in the news, hearing what sounded like a wild horse but never finding anything.
- It was so strange that you nearly believed Elrond’s family line was haunted or something. Arwen’s owner commented that perhaps it was the mystery mare watching over her descendants, but that was a too far-fetched theory for you to believe. However… you were never sure.
- One salvation for her constant wandering arrived in the form of a stallion. You noticed Arwen had taken a strong liking toward a stallion named Aragorn. He’s a friendly horse with some past as a guard horse and came to Imladris for retirement, or so you heard.
- Arwen seemed pretty determined to get his attention, neighing, and Aragorn seemed to return the new feelings, and it was like a romance drama upholding behold you. Even though Aragorn sometimes seemed pretty shy around her.
+7/10 She’s a headache on her own, but at least not a bad one like her brothers. Watching her unfolding romance drama is hilarious.
Erestor
- The grumpy old stallion with a dark coat and white socks. He was the definition of being an old man in a horse body. He was a very beautiful horse, but his personality was something to work with.
- He doesn’t give you trouble when it's time to go to the pastures or do his exercises, but he does seem to like to look at you and silently judge you.
- He’s sometimes picky with the food and brushing, and if you end up on the wrong spot, he might give you the back ears and threaten to bite you. He doesn’t bite but takes a rough nibble, which does feel uncomfortable. But he does bite when you try to give him a bath though.
- You first thought he hated you for some reason then his owner told you that’s just his personality.
- They gave you a hint that if you put an online book with a narrator on for him to listen to, he will remain calm and focus on the story while you clean him even during bath times. It was odd when you first tried it but loved it when it worked. Surprisingly, even you got into it and found something you liked with Erestor.
- Before brushing time, you would check on your phone and ask Erestor what he would like to listen to and he would give you a snort of the book he would like to listen to.
- It turns out Erestor can be sweet and agreeable when you share a common interest.
- Erestor has experience in show jumping and cross-country jumping. He was surprisingly calm when you decided to ride him. He didn’t scare anything or try to bite your feet.
- He seems to like taking rides through the forests with other horses. But he will refuse to cross any river unless there is a bridge. You don’t even think he’s afraid of it, he just hates it.
- He is sometimes pretty snappy toward other horses, especially toward one golden-colored horse that once came to visit. Glorfindel was his name you think. He’s pretty rough toward the twins, but Elrond and Celebrian he seems to respect.
-8/10 he’s not so bad once you manage to get past his moody side. Doesn’t cause trouble and you like riding him. Bath time with him is awful thought.
Lindir
- Lindir is a soft chestnut-colored stallion with darker tones on his mane. He was new to the stable, so you didn’t know much about him. You only knew he was older than Elrond’s kids but younger than Elrond, Celebrian, and Erestor.
- He was timid and reluctant to approach you when you started caring for him.
- It was a challenge, but you quickly learned how his moods changed over things. First, he hated getting dirt on his coat, so keeping him clean was relatively easy, except when it was time to wash him after riding sessions. He hated water and made it difficult for you to get the sweat and dirt off his back. He was literally worse than Erestor when it came to bath time.
- He was also picky about the food he ate. He had no problem eating grass and fruits when they were available, but when it came to feeding him any concentrates or minerals – there were suddenly several problems.
- He would refuse to eat if there were too many pellets. He would kick the bucket away if there’s too little of a certain mineral. And he will not even touch the bucket if it's moisturized with water— even if it is good for him.
- You had to contact his owner for details on the food after he refused to eat the food you prepared for three days straight.
- His owner explained that he was quite strict about sticking to old routines and asked you to give him a couple of days to adjust to new things. He would eventually start eating different foods and become more lenient with you.
- His owner also told you to play music on your phone, and he will remain calm during washing times.
- You nearly didn’t believe them till you played some classical music on your phone and watched how calm Lindir turned.
- He was probably a musician in his past life since he focused on listening while you brushed and washed him. He would step away a couple of times but didn’t try running away like usual.
- After that, you made sure to play music whenever it was time to clean him.
- After some days passed, you managed to get past Lindir’s timidness and learned he was pretty affectionate. He got used to other horses and would sometimes bring you flowers and sticks he would find from the pasture.
- He mostly had been on horse shows and wasn’t experienced much in riding.
- He was training to be another dressage horse, and his owner hoped he would get used to children and younger riders in riding classes, but after several incidents with children— he was pulled out from the list of horses for youngsters.
- He grew to dislike children and younger riders, especially after being handled by a few rowdy ones. He would refuse unless there’s an adult to walk beside the kid.
- Lindir also had a peculiar dislike toward ponies.
- You are not entirely sure why, but he has a tendency to avoid them. It could be because the ponies can sometimes be rowdy and wild, but it still remained a mystery.
- He does not have a problem with you riding him, but he sometimes gets easily startled, and you fall from his back.
- You never fall badly or in a way where you injure yourself, but Lindir would feel bad and brood about it for a whole day. It would take his favorite treats, pets, and words of assurance for him to get back to his usual self.
- He is a one peculiar horse.
+8 / 10 He's pretty okay. Washing him is not a funny job, but he's not as difficult as Erestor or the twins. You enjoy listening to music with him, but he sometimes has a picky collection.
