#thranduil reader insert

[sweethearticism]

Hey :> Could i please request thanduil/reader smut where reader loses her virginity to him? And he's kinda dominant but also gentle cos its her first time.

Thank you so much :D

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ thranduil ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. tonight would be special, for tonight, thranduil finally claims you entirely and makes you his queen ( smut ៸៸ minors dni ៸៸ sexual content ៸៸ penetrative sex ៸៸ nickname usage ៸៸ rough sex ( towards the end ) ៸៸ explicit descriptions )

· ⊰ note. hi there! hope this is to your liking. I honestly am a little nervous even putting this out since I kept second guessing myself and writing in stages — hopefully it doesn't suck too bad phaha

Gasping for the sweetness of air, shoulders tense, head lolled back 一 you await the burning in your lungs to fade as you gradually come down from the clouds, the blissful high. The blurs of colour melt away and soon enough, you are faced with the source of your most recent state. . . the elvenking himself. 

He rises from your heat with a grace that only an elf could muster; despite oh so vigorously driving you up the wall but a moment ago. The smile on his lips would lead anyone to believe that he hadn’t just sent you to the stars and back with nothing but his tongue. 

What a trickster. 

“Are you alright, my darling?” 

The nerve! To ask such a question as if he hadn’t caused you to keen and cry out whilst being brought to nirvana repeatedly. Your glare earns a chuckle and soon, silvery tresses cascade around you. 

“Worn out already. . . Should I be surprised?’’ A shiver crawls up your spine as cold lips trail a series of wet kisses along your neck, teasing at marks left behind by his majesty. “After all, this little hole is a virgin.’’ You gasp, hips craning into his hand as a finger leisurely drags along your slit. 

“Thranduil,’’ he bites back a groan, the way in which you whine out his name is beyond heavenly. It shoots straight to his already pulsing shaft and almost sends him over the edge. Almost. If it weren’t for the voice in his head reminding him that this was indeed, your first time, surely 一 you would have been fucked into the mattress by now.

Sapphire hues meet yours for a mere moment before you are pulled into a kiss, passion, want, need. The king poured all of these vast and raging emotions into one single act of intimacy, whilst all you could do was cling and attempt to return it all. The fire had been lit once more, surged on by the feeling of a new pressure against your heat and Thranduil’s eager desires. 

“Meleth,’’ he groans, grasping your face after forcing himself to part from your lips; which intoxicated him far more than even the finest elvish wine. “Are you ready for me?’’ His voice is shaky, words but a murmur. “I am unsure if I will be able to stop once we have started.’’ 

It was a warning, that much you could tell. From his throbbing length flushed between your labia to the unsteady breathing above 一 it took not a genius to deduct that your elven lover was holding on by a thread. The chance to back out was now, although you were certain Thranduil would internally curse a thousand times and over; you knew he would withdraw the second you gave word. 

Glancing down at where your heats met, you almost shivered at the sight of his cock, upright and ready to claim you as his own once and for all. It’s almost frightening, but you enjoy the thrill, the unknown waters you seem to venture deeper and deeper into. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t as needy as him, for you had lost yourself to the lust and pleasure long before this point had even been reached. All thanks to him. His touch, the way he brought you so high 一 eager. You were eager for the bliss his eyes silently promised. 

“I. . . I’m ready.’’ His gaze finds yours in search of any hesitance, he finds none. You take his face between your hands and whisper your want, your need. “My king, I am yours to take.’’ 

Thranduil exhales a groan. What had you done to him? Surely, you must have been aware of your hold on him; the ability to tear him down into nothing but a man greedy to have it all. He’d almost call it cruel, the way you enticed him. 

“As you wish;’’ he starts, repositioning himself to hover over you whilst icy hands capture your hips and bring them forward. “Tonight. . .’’ Pale sapphires bore into your soul, distracting you from the tip of his cock rimming your hole. 

“I make you my queen.’’ 

Your breath lodges within your throat and all you can do is gasp as he finally breaches your most sensitive walls. It’s the sting, the burning stretch and abrupt fullness that leaves your head spinning and falling back into the pillows. He follows in-suite, face looming over yours as he claims what’s his. Inch by inch, steadily, agonisingly. Tears sting your eyes and when your voice finally returns you let out a meek whine. 

Thranduil halts, pelvis flushed to yours as the room fills with a series of heated pants and trembling murmurs. You can all but cling to your lover whilst he cooes a hundred promises, assuring you that the searing pain will last but a moment. Things such as: 

“You are doing so well,’’ 

“Meleth you feel so good.’’ 

“A little more, my darling, just a little more.’’ 

You greedily accept his praise and reassurance, letting it distract you from the feel of his steadily rocking hips. His length eases in, dragging against velvety walls and leaving your eyes fluttering from the tiny intrusions. “Thranduil,’’ You call once the sting subsides, replaced by a dull ache. 

The sudden restriction of your core leaves him groaning as you pull him in by gaze once more. “Are you ready, my darling?’’ He’s barely holding on, driven to near-madness by the warmth of your cavern, the tightness that encases his cock and traps him in this torturous haven. 

Hunger. Like a ravenous predator, his eyes meet yours, promising more than you could ever imagine. Pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, the high you so desperately yearned for. It almost feels dangerous, what you’re getting yourself into 一 and yet you nod, accepting the uncertainty and all its mystery. “Please,’’ it’s all the confirmation he needs. 

Thranduil’s hands find your hips once more and raise them in the slightest. The once minuscule entries now turning into drawn-out thrusts. He pulls out, only to fill you to the brim again. And again, and again. 

The previously slow pace is replaced by a more moderate one that has you gasping as your core flutters around his manhood, begging, pleading for more despite only recently adjusting. The searing heat returns, yet this time it is more than welcomed, much like his cock which thrusts within, leaving not a spot untouched in its way. 

“Th-Thranduil,’’ he has to shut his eyes, unable to behold the sight of you. Head hung back, lips parted and back arching as you give yourself to him. He fears that if dares to glance down he’ll lose hold of the restraint he has oh so desperately been holding on to since the start of the evening. Your moans do little to help the difficulty, drawing out his own groans of delight as his nails press into your skin further, fingers trembling and displaying all that he’s holding back. 

It’s the sound of your voice, the tremble of his name 一 the pleading and squelching of your core as it greedily accepts his every intrusion. The breathy moans which escalate into desperate mewls and the faint bucking of your hips. All of which makes it all the more harder to keep himself from throwing your legs over his shoulders and bringing you both to bliss until neither of you can take any more. 

Thranduil makes the mistake of looking down at you and instantly sucks a breath. You feel the falter in his pace and flutter your eyelids wider in an attempt to look at him. Furrows brows, clenched jaw, it’s enough to stimulate your need even further. 

“My king,’’ it’s a soft murmur but enough to catch his attention. “More. . .’’ Nails find purchase on his shoulders as your legs find his waist. “M-More please,’’ you rasp. 

He can take no more. 

The elvenking responds by grabbing ahold of your hips and driving himself the deepest yet, knocking the air straight out of your lungs and leaving you clutching to his pale flesh. “It’s as if you are trying to send me over the edge.’’ His voice is low, unsteady 一 a mere shadow of its usual self. “My pretty petal, so eager to be claimed.’’ 

You are unable to even process the series of events. All you see is him, all you feel is him. With knees now brought to your chest you can do nothing but claw at the sheets as a strong hold keeps you in place. The feel of his cock more pronounced than ever as it seeks to bring stars to your vision. 

“Thranduil!” “This is what you requested, is it not?’’ 

A mewl is ripped from your throat, a series of pants and gasps filling the room before your jaw is in his grasp once more; forcing your gaze upon him. “It is what you begged me for. To claim this little virgin hole?’’ 

You can do nothing but gape, parting your lips and staring into cerulean hues now wild and firm, boring into your very soul. Yet you can focus not, for all your attention is on the snapping of his hips, the feel of his tip touching that one bundle of nerves that makes you cry out in desperation. “Th-There - There!” 

The words are jumbled and slurred as if you’ve become drunk from the bliss overtaking your body one tidal wave after another. You buck your hips, frantic for that sensation once more. 

“Here?’’ He drives into it again, prompting your eyes to loop back into your head. The only word mustered being that of his name and hushed pleads interrupted by your countless gasps and mewls. 

A familiar feeling pools within the pit of your stomach, sending all your senses into overload. It’s blistering, devastating, you’re unsure how much longer you can hold on. With Thranduil’s fingers now capturing your clit between his thumb and forefinger, combined with the heat of his kisses down your neck and shoulder 一 of course, not forgetting the feel of his cock practically splitting you in two, it’s beyond more than you could ever imagine. 

Searing, hot, like a rapid, undying fire you pleaded with heavens to never be put out. With eyes barely open you try to warn your lover, yet your walls did it for you. They clamped down, earning a curse in his mother tongue as fresh, red marks now stain the skin of your hips. 

“C-Can’t - I can’t,’’ you cry. “Thranduil -” 

He cuts you off with his lips, dragging you into a kiss full of passion you had yet to experience from him. Hunger, vigour, it’s intense and demanding, like that of his tongue which soon joins the mix 一 invading you in yet another way and stealing your breath for the umpteenth time. 

“Cum, my queen’’ his voice almost missed your ears after he parted from the kiss, straying only an inch away. “Cum for your king.’’ 

It’s all you needed to finally shatter around him. White clouds your vision and a violent jerk overtakes your body as all your nerves tense and contract. It’s blinding, fierce and in a fervid moment, you arch your spine and finally release the blistering heat with a cry of your king’s name 一 surely heard by all of Mirkwood. 

Tremble, that is all you can do. You are taken to the stars above and in a sudden, shattering second, dropped once more. Your form hits the sheets, head spinning, gasping for air 一 you barely even notice Thranduil being brought to his own release and shuddering out your name in the process. The once fervent snaps melt into nothing but a few bucks until he steadily comes to a stop. 

Your swollen lips are captured by his own more, slower, gentler, and still just as passionate. Unable to return, you merely hum and lean into him; sighing at the feel of his length retreating from your core and leaving behind a strange, empty feeling. 

It takes a moment to gather his composure, and even longer to catch his breath 一 but soon Thranduil draws away and instead positions himself at your side. Within seconds you are in the warm embrace of your lover, kisses pressed to your hair as the sheet tickles your moist skin. 

“Rest.’’ It’s a quiet whisper, yet all the more adoring. “You did so well, my queen.’’ He sighs, pressing a peck to your mouth. “But for now, rest.’’ 

There was no rebuttal, you had no energy for it. Your head lolled against your king as you found refuge in his warmth, snuggling into his embrace as observed your limping form and shutting lids. 

He smiles, bringing your head to his chest. “Gi melin.’’

[coffee-and-drabbles]

At Your Mercy

The harsh winter in Mirkwood and the absence of a certain Elvenking do not leave you any other choice than hoarding all the blankets you can get.

Rating: General Audiences Fandom: The Hobbit Prompt: Imagine how Thranduil convicts you of late-night blanket stealing. Pairing: Thranduil Oropherion x Reader Type: Reader insert, one-shot, fluff Date: 16th February, 2015 Words: 1977 Warnings: Pure unadulterated fluff. A way too cheesy plotline. Overprotective Thranduil. Grammatically questionable Sindarin: “my love” (meleth nîn), “sweet dreams” (elei velui) and “love of my life” (meleth e-guilen). A/N: This is the first and the only story that made it through my gigantic writer’s block. It is not more than an apprentice piece I wrote two years ago based on an imagine on @sindarinkisses, a now inactive Tolkien writing blog.  Beta’d: @jezvontesse

You cursed under your breath as you finally managed to close the window made of heavy crystal glass with a thud and a clink. You exhaled heavily and watched how your clouded breath began to melt some of the frost tracery on the window panes. You were beyond tired. Wanting to close your eyes just for a moment, you felt how your forehead slowly met the cold glass.

A sudden shiver went through your body as the wind blew, causing the window to clink again as snow grains were sprinkled against the glass. The winter held the Woodland Realm hostage. As much as you enjoyed the peace and light the snow brought about that tormented forest, the icy cold winter nights in the caverns and great halls of the castle being delved deeply in the underground were something you could not get used to.

You have retired late for the night, but the private quarters you share with your husband, Thranduil, the King of the Woodland Realm, in the upper levels of the castle had not been prepared yet. The daily life in the palace has become subject to the council which the King was actually hosting. It was an urgently rushed meeting with delegates who worried over the recent signs of the darkness and the rumours about an upcoming menace from beyond the borders of your realm.

The cracking of a fire being lit by a servant at the fireside suddenly distracted you from your thoughts. Since the council began, you have taken over the duties of the King in addition to your tasks as the Queen. You were exhausted beyond measure. As the subtle, yet tangy scent of pine needles slowly filled the room, you felt weighted down with weariness. A maid entered to bring towels and herbs, and you did not wish for anything more than to immerse your body into a hot bath to warm up your cold muscles, your stiff fingers, your numb toes and to get rid of that frosty coat which seemed to separate your bare skin from the warming fabric of your winter dress. You shivered slightly from the cold and tried to supply your fingers with blood as you chafed your hands and followed the maid.

A sudden twinge of sadness hit your heart as your thoughts went out to Thranduil in the lower levels of the castle. You doubted you would get to see him anytime soon. It troubled you that you have not had any opportunity to talk to him since the council had begun three days ago.

The hot scented bath did not fail to have the desired relaxing effect on your body, but you still were dwelling too much on your worries and the events of the day to go to bed. You sighed with relief as you finally let yourself sink in one of the huge sofas surrounding the fireplace. You wore a simple, yet regal warm tunic and fitted trousers. You smirked as you wiggled your toes while thinking of Thranduil who often could not resist jesting on your utterly un-regal thick woolen socks.

Unfortunately, the socks were no remedy for your cold feet. Not long after you have grabbed a book and wrapped yourself up in a cozy richly quilted blanket, you felt your toes getting cold again. It was an annoying, but familiar feeling to you. You knew one blanket would not be enough to keep you warm over time, but you hesitated to call for a maid to get you another one. You were so tired of talking to others; you did not feel like asking for something or even give a simple order. You sigh. There were so many guests to play host to, it would be a pointless quest to even try to find a servant. You frowned and decided to ignore your cold feet.

Although the fire kept cracking and burning, the cold would not want to leave you. As the chills started crawling up to your knees, you tuck up your legs and cuddled up tighter in your blanket.  As the freezing cold raised your hackles and sent shivers down your spine, you have not been able to focus on reading any more. You snapped your book shot and strode from the room, heading out for the nearest empty guest rooms to retrieve the additional blankets from the closets. You were going to just take one or two. You were aware your plan contained the risk of damaging the reputation of your hospitality, but you were not willing to freeze to death either.

Thranduil entered your private quarters swiftly and silently, eager to close the door and shut his obligations out. The council had taken a toll on him. Agreement had only been reached on conducting the negotiations without displaying any regalia of power and royalty: No weapons, no crowns. Thranduil needed quiet, but he doubted the realm was going to grant him this privilege for more than a couple of minutes.

Sleeping deeply, you did not hear the surprised chuckle he led out as he spotted your sleeping form in a pile of blankets on the sofa. You ended up hogging most of them in yours arms to use them as a body pillow while lying half on your side, half on your stomach. Your back was uncovered. Your feet and your legs were tightly wrapped up; the blankets looked all tangled up as if they intended to keep you their prisoner.

He would never tell you how much he enjoyed it to watch you lying there, peacefully smiling at the result of the battle of blankets which must have taken place some hours ago. You have been stealing blankets from Thranduil since your very first night together, and since then he has been bearing with you. He had tried a lot to avoid being robbed of covers and sheets every night, but you kept on outsmarting him.

You were too exhausted to wake up from the rustling of his robes as he gracefully paced across the room, a compassionate smile unfolding on his lips. You were too tired to feel the sofa dipping as he slowly settled at your side, careful not to startle you. He reached forward to tenderly stroke your face.

“Y/N….” Prickling trails from your temple to your jawline caused your features to grimace involuntarily. You switched from lying on your stomach to lying flat on your back.

“Wake up, meleth nîn.” His deep voice forced the sleep to retreat and pulled you out of its embrace. He continued to caress your skin as he cupped your cheek with one hand.

“T-thranduil…?” You muttered wearily. “I’m tired.”

“I know.” He stated while running his fingers through the strands of your hair. “Y/N, this is no proper place to sleep. You are going to feel uncomfortable soon. Let us get you to bed.”

“The council… any progress?” You ask low-voiced, not able to open your eyes. You tried to clear your blunt mind.

“It seems like I have finally convicted the criminal.” Thranduil stated this with all the sternness his voice could muster while trying to suppress a chuckle.

“A criminal? At the council?” Startled, your eyes snapped open. Feeling light-headed, you were giving your husband a puzzled look. He quickly reached forward to firmly press your shoulders down to restrain you from falling off the sofa.

“No.” He smirked at your confusion and loosened his grip on your shoulders. “Right in front of me.” He locked eyes with you. “You have stolen all those blankets from our guest rooms, have you not?”

“Hmm… guilty of that.” You mutter and slowly blink, eyelids heavy. Thranduil’s hands on your shoulders sent waves of warmth over your chilly skin.

“You must feel very cold.” Thranduil slightly tilted his head and removed his hands from your shoulders to gently stroke up and down your arms. The sudden loss of his warm touch made you instantly shiver and reminded you of how much you were freezing.

“Those blankets are sheer traitors.” You frowned, trying to catch the affectionate glimpse in his intense blue eyes.

“In what way?” Thranduil suppressed another chuckle and cupped your cheeks, not breaking the eye contact.

“They are collaborating with the cold. They let the frost…  assassinate me.” You mutter against his chest as he leaned forward to plant a soft kiss onto your forehead. You smelled the warm and spicy notes of cypress and cedar in Thranduil’s scent.

A hurried beating at the door followed by a messenger entering the room and stammering his apologies interrupted your intimate moment. Startled and vexed about the bold invasion of his privacy, you felt Thranduil’s muscles tense up as he squared his shoulders.

“Lower your voice!” He hissed sharply through clenched teeth in direction of the door. With rapid strides, Thranduil approached the messenger. You closed your eyes as sleep dragged on you. You were too tired to focus on the spoken words, but you already knew your husband would have to leave you for all-night negotiations at the council.

Thranduil would never tell you that he sensed your discomfort like he felt every leaf moving in the forest of the realm. He would never let you know how it was subtly unsettling him. He could not bear the thought of leaving you there, all tangled up in merely useless blankets with your body still tensed up and uneasy. Before he headed back to the lower levels of the palace to attend a council being at risk to shift the main points from diplomacy to war, he wanted to assure that at least you were well.

“Meleth nín, let this go.” Demanded his deep sounding voice. His light hands and deftly fingers twitched the fabric out of your hands. “Leave those traitorous blankets with me.”

With swift movements, he started unfurling the blankets to get you out of the tangle. He needed to use enough force to set you free but had to stay gentle enough not to fully wake you up. Thranduil may be used to your blanket theft, but he never grew fond of talking down his startled grouchy sleep-deprived wife after reclaiming sheets, covers, and blankets too roughly.

“Uh-uh…  no…” You muttered incoherently. Your hands were blindly reaching out to reclaim the blankets. “I got this … under control.”

Thranduil brought his lips close to your ear. “I do not doubt that. But given that this is a case of high treason, it is utterly my task to carry out the sentence.” He stated his voice comforting and warm like velvet.

“Please … stop it!” You plead while he removed the last of your blankets. “I’m freezing to death!”

“Do not be afraid, Y/N. It will be much better soon.” He tried to soothe. He loosened the clasp from his oversized red cloak and took it off before settling at your side again.

“Give them… back!” You were about to lose your temper, but neither your mind nor your body wanted to cooperate. “They are… at my mercy… you…”

Thranduil who was about to spread out his cloak over you abruptly held his movement. The rustling of the heavy embroidered fabric stopped immediately as he lowered his hands.

“I have always been… at your mercy.” He simply stated.

You only noticed his husky voice, but you did not catch the content. With one swift movement, Thranduil draped the cloak over your sleeping form. As he wrapped you up, you felt your body relaxing under his touch. The cloak had stored his body warmth as well as his scent. You recognized the familiar spicy notes of cypress and cedar and the fruity notes of cassis and red berries.

“Elei velui, meleth e-guilen.” Thranduil murmured, before he tenderly kissed your forehead. Sleep had finally embraced you, as he was taking his leave.

[sweethearticism]

Hi, I’ve never requested anything before so I hope this is ok, but can I have a one shot where Thranduil comforts his crying s/o (established relationship please) after finding out that she’s being bullied because maybe she’s human or something

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ thranduil ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. it took him an hour to find you, yet now you refuse to look at him? he's frustrated, but — wait, are you crying?

· ⊰ note. hi there love! this is perfect, I hope I did it justice <3

“Feren!”

“My lord?’’ The brunette exhales and turns to his king with the straightest face he could pull. A guard, that is what he was 一 not his majesty’s royal advisor. Then again, with the way things were? He might as well be. “What is troubling you?’’ 

“Where is Y/N?” He frowns. “She was to meet me at noon and whenever I look for her, there is not a sign. Where is she?” 

Feren mentally pleaded with Eru who bestowed upon him this cruel fate 一 how was he to know of your whereabouts? Was he a magician? 

“I am unsure, my lord. Have you checked your resting chamber?” “Obviously.’’ Thranduil clicks his tongue and turns away from the guard just in time to miss his eye roll. “She is nowhere to be found. Have you any idea where she could have wandered off to?” 

‘Perhaps she is hiding from you.’ 

“Forgive me, my lord. I know not.’’ 

The elf pauses for a moment before parting his lips once more. “The garden may be a place of interest. Shall I give it a check, Sire?” “The garden?” Thranduil glances down his vast halls towards the direction of the telltale area, narrowing his eyes and focusing all his senses 一 as if listening for any sign of you. 

“. . . No, I will check myself. You are dismissed.’’ 

With that, he let Feren get back to his peace and quiet before finding his way down the intricate halls. Guards stood at attention and those in his way promptly stepped to the side after giving respectful bows and short greetings. He paid them no mind. 

His only concern was you. 

It was out of character to not meet with him on schedule. In fact, it was something you often jumped at the opportunity for 一 what, with the duties of a king, your time with him was often cut short. What was different this time? Had you forgotten? 

Surely not. You had just expressed your excitement about the little date earlier that day. . . had you fallen ill? 

The longer Thranduil let his mind race, the more absurd his thoughts became. Were you alright? Had you gotten hurt? Was there an issue he wasn’t aware of? 

All these thoughts festered and toiled like that of a pot of boiling water, threatening to spill and blow the top off the further his questions were left unanswered. In the midst of his train of thoughts, the king had yet to realise he had already found his way into the flourishing garden. 

An area cultivated not too far from the palace, a little cradle where the beauty of the once Greenwood the Great was preserved laid before him. Blooming blossoms in rows from pink to blue and everything in between. A few trees on the outskirts which bore hundreds of fruits each year, one of which stood beside a miniature pond decorated by little rocks and water crests 一 this particular spot was always your favourite. 

And that is exactly where he found you. 

“Meleth?’’ 

“. . . Meleth?”

How odd, perhaps one of his initial thoughts weren’t too far off. Had he angered you in some way? All you did was curl up further beneath the tree, gaze fixed upon the pond of which your feet edged at. 

Concern outweighed irritation as the elvenking swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and chose to inch closer. “Y/N, I searched for you everywhere. Tell me, why do you hide?’’ His presence left you shifting and muttering a quiet apology, yet not once did your eyes meet his. 

Surely he hadn’t done something in such a short space of time to have fowled your mood to this degree, he thought.

Unfortunately for you, Thranduil was not always the most patient person. This, combined with the fact he had spent the last hour in search of you, worried for you 一 the newfound silence did more to irk him than anything else. 

“You have a voice. Use it.’’ 

The flinch left his brows furrowing, twitching. It’s almost as if you took his words without care 一 and that alone was enough to tick him off further. With an inhale, he channelled whatever inner peace within him had left and yet despite that, his voice still trembled with vexation: “Y/N -” 

“My king,’’

finally, you grant him an answer. “Please. . . if I have found any favour in your eyes 一 leave me be.’’ 

This would have spiralled the king’s mind into a blaze of fury. . . if it were not for his better judgement; the waver in your voice was enough to clear the storm clouds and pull him from gurgling rage. It was his turn to hold his tongue and instead focused on finding the reason for the trembling request. 

Albeit out of character, the male slowly dipped himself to your level as his knees found the grass. A blur of silver tresses caught the corner of your eye and before you knew it; there sat your lover beside you. Even in such a position, he towered over you. Regardless, that was the last thing on your mind. 

A melody of crickets, a whisper of the wind, all of which filled the void of bellowing silence as he sat there at your side. You couldn’t tell whether he was gathering his words or simply at a loss for them 一 whatever it may be, his presence was difficult to ignore and you showed little appreciation for it, especially when you hugged your knees closer. 

“. . . Meleth,’’ 

you flinch, ready to shift away if it weren’t for the arm that subsequently looped around and brought you near, ruining your miniature escape. “Won’t you look at me?’’

No,

No, if you obeyed you were unsure if you would 一

“Please.’’ 

You sucked a breath. His voice was impossibly gentle, incredibly soft, drained of any irritation it held prior. . . how could you refuse him? 

“My king,’’ the whimper left him on guard and when you finally faced him, Thranduil’s heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. 

Eyes that rivalled starlight, those of which he adored and come to cherish. Eyes he wished to see filled with nothing but joy 一 now shimmered with tears that threatened to spill upon delicate cheeks, which by the looks of it, were already stained by their presence. 

“Meleth,’’ the murmur is soft yet not nearly as much as the touch that finds your skin as a hand now cups your face. “Why do you cry, my darling?’’ 

Those simple words are the catalyst of your inevitable shatter. With little to no restraint, you crash into him and find refuge in his shoulders, hands balling his robes of silk between them. The walls come tumbling down and finally, a sob which had previously lodged itself within your throat breaks free. A broken, muffled cry silences the melodies of the nights and leaves your elven lover in shock. 

“They 一 they berate me,’’ you choke. “They say I am unfit, a low human in comparison to the elvenking. Th-That you keep me around for mere entertainment! That your feelings are nothing but infatuation!’’ 

Thranduil can do nothing but encase you in his warm embrace, shielding you from the world which dared to make you cry. His lover, his queen. The flames which once died down were now raging and ready to run rampant on the soul who caused this 一 but he held strong. 

You were his concern at this given moment. He would spare them. . . for now. 

Not a word left his lips as he focused on providing you comfort and security whilst you wept. Arms subconsciously tightened the more you confessed to the horrid things said to you, the insults, the mocking. It was a miracle that Thranduil did not rise from where he sat and ordered for their heads to be brought on a silver platter. 

How dare they? 

“Ssh. . . I am here, Meleth.’’ Lean fingers find your hand and play with its ends as the elf cooes a variety of assurance, leading to inevitably calm down and resort to merely clinging onto him and finding peace in the rhythm of his heart. 

When you had settled to nothing but a few sniffles and breathy exhales, Thranduil straightened in the slightest. His request, a simple yet firm one: “look at me.’’

Upon obeying, the hands that once comforted you now reached up to cup your face. A gentle and icy sensation that left you shivering before focusing on the pale sapphires which bore into your very soul. Emphatic and clear, they spoke for him before he even used his voice. 

“Tell me, do you believe this. . . mockery?’’ 

The sudden tension of your nerves gave him all the answers he needed and before your eyes, his own hardened for but a moment before simmering to that of softness once more. “My darling, you have accepted me as your king 一 have you not?’’ 

You nod, leaning into the thumb that grazes your cheekbone. “Then surely you must understand that as much as I am your king. . . you are my queen.’’ 

He smiles at your stunned features. “And as queen, you have every right that I do in being here.’’ Thranduil leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a delicate manner as if frightened that any more force would cause you to shatter. “You are mine, Meleth. And what’s mine should be held in the highest regard.’’ His head now leans upon yours, staring into your eyes as if to emphasise his point. 

“I love you.’’ 

His lips brush yours. “I love you.’’ Again and again, he murmurs this claim with the utmost pride. You can do nothing but collapse into him, smothered in his affection and praise, his adoration, his devotion. 

“Thranduil. . .’’ Tears find your eyes once more as you whisper out a slew of your own favour. “My queen,’’ he returns, a breathy, hushed whisper. “You and you alone hold my heart. Can you not see?” 

You did. Blessed by the moonlight, his eyes, his face, the entirety of him. It reminded you of what you previously doubted. Whatever uncertainty tainted your mind was, in that moment, brought to nothing as the elvenking showered you in intimacy. . .

And proved that you were his queen.

[sweethearticism]

Hi there! You’re page is very beautiful and amazing and I was wondering if you could do a Thranduil x human wife reader where she is trying to learn Elvish but just gets a little frustrated and Thranduil helps her❤️

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ thranduil ⠀〳 human!reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. in an effort to surprise your husband you try to learn sindarin — it doesn't go too well

· ⊰ note. thank you darling! I'll absolutely write this for you 💕

ʚ You had tried to learn elvish in secret as a way to surprise your husband - of course, you could have gotten some sort of tutor but you didn’t want to risk ruining the surprise for him 

ʚ Whenever Thranduil would be out doing his kingly duties you would use that as an opportunity to learn more. You collected books, scrolls, even listening in on other staff in an attempt to decipher what they said

ʚ There are times you’d try to speak to the others in elvish too as a means of getting accustomed to the articulation 

ʚ But no matter how hard you tried there was always a slip up - you supposed this should have been expected given that learning a new language on a whim is never really easy 

ʚ You couldn’t help but feel frustrated with yourself, especially since this was something you wanted to do for your beloved partner. You pushed yourself, trying harder, extending your little learning sessions for longer and such

ʚ However, one night you had lost track of time and completely disregarded the fact that Thranduil would return early after a meeting. You sat there along the windowsill, speaking to yourself. Now, Thranduil would have entered without much thought - until he heard the familiar dialect of his people 

ʚ He stops just before the doorway, listening in as you try to recite the sentence you had been working on all night. You’d replace words, try to pronounce others - but nothing seemed to be working in your favour 

ʚ “Thîr - vain chîn. . . darn? th-ulen. . . síla sui - no - Law Ithil — veleth nín? No!”

ʚ You groan, burying your head into your hands and breathing through your nose. If it were possible, steam may have even been flowing from your ears at this stage. “Ithil means moon, are you trying to say your love is like the moon? No!’’ 

ʚ It was a simple statement that you wished to tell your beloved: ‘Your beauty took my breath away, your radiance shines like the moon. You have my love.’ yet the night truly wasn't going in your favour 

ʚ You try again, determined to at least say the full statement without any stumbles - and when you eventually did, you nearly jumped to your feet in excitement and squealed, something that Thranduil found quite endearing once he realised what exactly you were trying to do 

ʚ “Chin gelair chîn orthernir guren.” ( Your radiant eyes conquered my heart. ) was what he had decided to call out as he finally revealed himself. You ended up jumping to your feet in any case and spun around to look at your husband in shock before your cheeks burned with embarrassment 

ʚ Thranduil goes on to tell you that it was quite endearing listening to you try to speak Sindarin to which you immediately apologise for butchering any phrases or pronunciations in fear of offending him - but when he cupped your cheek and presented you with the smile that always made your heart flutter, you immediately calmed down 

ʚ “You could have simply requested my aid, mire nin.’’ His arms hook around you, prompting your hands to find his shoulders. You admitted that you wanted it to be a surprise and you swore you could see the second his heart warmed 

ʚ He presses a gentle peck to your lips before leading you to the desk to observe your study material. Thranduil offered you his help, to which you gladly accepted now that the fact was out of the bag 

ʚ Perhaps you should have told him about this earlier - because soon it became a fun little activity for the both of you to bond over. You found yourself learning at a faster pace

ʚ Especially when rewards were in place for when you excelled 

taglist — @kiatheinsomniac @augustwithquills @blueberryrock @a-chaotic-dumbass @m-shade @nerdydcfan @flowerchildishere @camilomyshiningsun @bugnug @algae-rave @snakesofindia-sursesaji @theroguemaia @heraluthor @pinkslashersimp @the-girl-king @perwaineintsomi @yellowbadgermole @spoopy-fish-writes @itsdameron @aeonianarchives

[sweethearticism]

Hello my favorite writer! If you have time, could you write to Yandere Thranduil x pregnant reader wife who is trying to escape from hers so that her son does not grow up with a father like him? 🤗 I apologized in advance if this makes you uncomfortable or something :(

ps: i love your writing its just amazing please never stop writing 😅❤

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ yandere!thranduil ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. you had accepted that you would never escape the elvenking's madness — but what happens when you discover you are now carrying his child who may grow up in a broken home? ( dark themes ៸៸ yandere content ៸៸ pregnancy ៸៸ possessive behaviour ៸៸ violence ( not towards reader or child ) ៸៸ toxic relationship ៸៸ dark themes in general viewer discretion advised )

· ⊰ note. istg hearing that I'm people's favourite writer makes me gush so HARD 💕 thanks sm for the support love! hope you enjoy, translations in the comments!

ʚ You had come to a point in your relationship with Thranduil where you eventually accepted all of the madness and inescapable darkness. What point was there to protest? It only led to suffering - and he had demonstrated time and time again that there was no where you could run, no where you could hide; each and every time he would find you and drag you straight back to him. You had quite literally become his perfect little wife, bending to his every whim and appeasing him at all costs. A doll, if you will 

ʚ However, this mindset all changed the day that you discovered your pregnancy. At first you didn’t want to admit it, to simply deny and pray to every divine being imaginable that it wasn’t true, that you wouldn’t birth a child to this madman. Alas, it appeared that you were indeed: pregnant with Thranduil’s child

ʚ Your mind was a battlefield, a slew of panic and anxiety on the actuality of the situation and the fact that your child would be born into a broken home. Sure, you could handle your husband’s madness but you were unsure of how he would react to the child. You didn’t think that you wanted to know. It was not as if you could go-off of the way Legolas was raised because not only was that before your time but also whilst he still retained the majority of his sanity. It was his feelings for you that drove him mad. After the loss of his previous wife, he was determined to ensure that it never happened again - that you remained at his side for all eternity. And he was willing to do whatever it took to secure that. So there was no telling what your child would face, being raised by a clearly mad father

ʚ You couldn’t bring yourself to potentially put them through the horrors you faced, to have to witness the terrors of this palace, this soon-to-be family. So you concocted a plan, simple yet unbelievably foolish: run away. You’ve done it before, he’s found you every time. . . but it’ll be different. You will do whatever it takes to ensure your child grows up in a healthy home, free of the king’s madness. With that in mind, you got to work, planning your escape diligently all whilst keeping up the facade of being his perfect wife and queen

ʚ What you didn’t expect was how protective Thranduil would become after he discovered you were pregnant, after all, how much more protective could he possibly get? Now, there was not a moment you were left alone without a handmaiden, a guard or servant at your side. It was almost as if a part of him knew what you were planning - almost. Thanks to your quick wit and sheer determination you just so managed to deceive them all, keeping your husband in the dark of your real motives while feigning an excited soon-to-be mother on the outside 

ʚ The day of your escape couldn’t have come sooner. You put all the pieces together, rehearsed it again and again in your head. Finally, when the time was right you took your chance and fled with your heart in your hands. You never looked back, not once. Instead you kept running, fleeing the realm of Mirkwood before he even discovered your disappearance. 

ʚ And when he did? Well, let’s just say hell reigned on earth. He was outraged, appalled. After everything the two of you had been through. . . and yet you still ran away!? The fact that you had fled whilst pregnant with his child did little to help the situation and in an instant, a fleet of guards was sent out to drag you back; by any means necessary

ʚ You didn’t expect to remain hidden for so long. Especially to the extent where you birthed a healthy baby boy and now lived your life free from the clutches of the king. You thought all would be well, that the life of horrors was left behind and you could simply raise your son in peace - in a home that he deserved. You had resided within a village, not particularly known by most of middle-earth, a disclosed little sanctuary where you could live happily, as you deserved

ʚ Unfortunately for you, peace was never a staple when it came to your life. You woke up to the sound of shouts and screams, only to be met with scenes of crimson red upon glancing out the window of your little cottage. Elves, everywhere. And your poor little village having pay the price of your sin done unto the elvenking

ʚ You wanted to take your son and flee again, but upon finding your way to his room - you were met with a sight that plummeted your heart into the pit of your stomach. Standing there, cradling your precious baby - was none other than the elvenking himself. Gazing upon the little bundle with such gentle eyes, such a soft countenance, despite all the terror that went on outside. And when he glanced up once your presence was sensed, he tilted his head with that same, bone-chilling smile. 

ʚ “My queen, did you really think I wouldn’t find you again?”

[sweethearticism]

“If I see you with them again, I’ll kill them” with Yan! Thranduil?

-this is the earlier yandere anon, is it okay if I be asked to be called Yanon <I thought it’d be funny

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ yandere!thranduil ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. it was an innocent dance with an old friend of yours, the last thing you expected was the madness of your husband ( yandere themes ៸៸ possessive & obsessive behaviour ៸៸ hints at violence ៸៸ toxic relationship ៸៸ dark themes in general, viewer discretion advised )

· ⊰ note. of course, welcome yanon <3 this was really enjoyable to write since it's more on the eery side haha. hope y'all enjoy, Sindarin translations are in the comments

He was impossibly kind, astonishing in both smile and personality. A wise soul whom you had the privilege of befriending during your time in Mirkwood. Gentle hues glimmered ten times that of the starry heavens. Selfless, benignant. . . 

But he was not Thranduil. 

Perhaps a part of you was thankfully for that. The part of you which longed for normality, sanity, within this life you have come to lead. And it was that very part that would be forced down, ridiculed and guilt-tripped until it doubted its desire for what others could consider a given. 

“Is something troubling you, Rîs nin?’’ “Hmm?” 

The tender whisper pulls you from the void of countless thoughts as you find those shimmering irises once more and present a smile. “Have I not told you to simply refer to me by name?” “Are you not my queen?” Swaying within a turn according to the music, you catch his swift glance towards the king, your husband: Thranduill Oropherion.

He had occupied himself that evening when Feren strode over to express his concern for the more-than-gradual increase of shelob wandering further into your lands, to which you excused yourself and stood on the sidelines. . . that was until an old friend offered a dance and seeing as though Thranduil appeared preoccupied with the newfound issue, you accept. 

It was simply a dance, after all. A mere courtesy of the festivities. Besides, your beloved was busy, he most likely would not even notice. 

“I was your friend long before I gained that title,’’ soft and gentle were your words and although you knew it was said in a jesting manner, you couldn’t help the drop of tone, your voice fading into nothing but a faint whisper. For it was that very title that bound you, body, heart and soul to the one they call the elvenking. That title, having only been obtained through marriage, clearly signified that you belonged to him 一

‘Only mine.’

You almost sprung from your skin, only to realise that the voice was a linger of the imagination. Nothing but a memory, a nightmare. 

“If it upset you I shall refrain, Y/N.’’ 

Upon glancing up you take notice of the newfound concern slipping into his gaze as Eliedir spins you once more. “However, it would cost an explanation. You are not yourself, won’t you allow an old friend to be of aid?” It left your brows dipping, expression twitching and threatening to expose all your deepest emotions. But you bite your tongue, tasting the dullness of ichor and swallowing its metallic essence along with any confessions of the truth you nearly spilt.

“It is nothing, mellon nin.’’ 

He draws you out to arms’ length only to gingerly tug you back at a particular beat of the song. “I’d appreciate it if you spared me your lies, mellon nin.’’ Returning the affectionate name with evident earnestness. “Is it so severe that you cannot confide in even me?” You gulp, avoiding his glimmering eyes which sought to stare into your very soul until he eased an answer from you. 

“Well?” The elf sighs, angling his head in an attempt to catch a glimpse of your irises. “I’m simply worried for y -”

“Meleth nin.’’ 

For a moment you chalked it up to another illusion, a trick of the mind 一 but when Eliedir halted in step and released you of his prior hold, you knew all too well that the daydream was over along with the glimmers of heaven,

as hell’s flames now emitted behind you. 

“Your majesty,’’ the elf bows at once, eyeing your hesitant turn to your husband who stands tall, menacing as ever. A shadow to consume all those below him with an expression austere and shiver-inducing. 

“Leave us.’’ 

Tone as frigid as his demeanour, Thranduil arbitrarily dismisses the second presence, yet never once relieving you of his stare. It brings tension to your muscles as a chill seeps into your joints and leaves you numb. Albeit reluctant, Eliedir nods and defects as ordered, leaving you with the one you called king and husband. 

“Must you be so curt?” “What?’’ He arches a brow and snakes his hand into yours, bringing it to his lips and ghosting a kiss over knuckles. “I wished to dance with my queen, am I so wrong for such a desire?” The emphasis on your title left you nipping at your inner cheek 一 could you even refer to it as that? If anything, it was a reminder rather than a title when on his lips. 

Yet you suck in a breath and put on the smile you rehearsed time after time. “Now, who am I to deny my king? It would be an honour.’’ You grew to learn the sweet nothings that appeased him, drenching your tone and words in delicate nectar; for telling the king what he wished to hear was far more favourable than facing the aftermath of an accidental slip of tongue. 

He smiles. Relief washes over you. It appeared that you dodged the bullet and deterred a storm. 

Wasting not a second of his time you find purchase in his shoulder whilst your free hand intertwined with his fingers 一 alternatively, he places a hold on your waist. Thus, the dance begins.

For a moment you wish to blind yourself with the fantasies of yore. The delusion of a daydream, as it is easier than facing the reality head-first. And whilst at the back of your mind you knew better than anyone that this was anything but a dream, it hurt not to fool yourself with the illusions of normality, to peer with the eyes of outsiders and see what they saw: a king and his queen, madly in love. A blooming, innocent and sweet romance. 

“You are gorgeous tonight, mîr nin, a rival to starlight itself.’’ Oh, deceive me with such honeyed utters, delude me with the sweetness of your words; you begged. For it sweetened the ache and left you on a high that numbed the truth. The actuality. The madness. 

“As do you, Aran nin.’’ You lock gazes with him, staring into those sapphires which, although he would say it was yours, mirrored that of starlight. Gorgeous, that’s what he was. And sometimes it baffled you, how someone so stunning could hold a heart so tattered and tainted. But you would not dwell on such truths, instead, you opted for suckling on those candied lies. 

And for that moment you wished it was true. You wished for the wool to be pulled over your eyes and for the illusion to be reality. 

Alas. 

you knew not of normality. 

From the corner of your vision you catch the glimpse of a disturbance accompanied by a bustling chaos. Although unwise it may be, you turn your head in favour of your curiosity and at that moment regret it entirely. The whites of your eyes extend as your lids gape at the sight of Eliedir, now seized by the arms and discreetly wrenched away by armour-cladded guards. 

And as quickly as the fantasy settled it shattered, revealing the ugly, horrid truth. 

“Eliedir!” You forget the volume of your voice and move to jerk from your husband’s hold, only to fall still like a statue when a sting encircles your wrists and reflects upon your waist. 

“Sssh, melethel.’’ The croon is so tender, so gentle, that you almost mistook it for an entirely different being to the one which entrapped you against his form, with an arm now looped around your middle and the feel of nails now tormenting your side instead. 

Caged, like a petite woodland creature. His pathetic little petal. 

“Thranduil!” Albeit lowering your tone, the whisper held panic and perfectly displayed the anxiety welled within your chest. “Thranduil, what are they doing with Eliedir? He has done no wrong. Please, let me speak with them.’’ You should have known better, known him better. For when the rumble of his chuckle vibrated against you, it took longer than it should’ve to realise the truth. 

And when it finally settled? You trembled. Hoping and praying to Eru himself that you thought wrong, perhaps your ears deceived you of that dark and twisted, familiar snicker. 

You had no such luck.

“My love, did you think I would simply allow any man to touch what is mine?” 

Your heart froze and in that same second, thumped against your ribcage directly after. As if it sought to escape and run, hide and crawl into a hole where you would be safe from this darkness. And the longer realisation was left to soak into your mind, the further you understood to what extent Thranduil’s madness truly ran. 

“No,’’ a breathy plea accompanied by the faintest of head-shakes as your chin is brought to his shoulder. “No, no.’’ You repeat, voice hoarse from the newfound burn in your lungs. “Thranduil, I’m sorry. It was me, please -” A whimper interrupts your slew of begs and apologies at the feel of his nails now breaking skin. And despite the hand that leaves your wrist to instead cup the back of your head, everything appears normal. Just a king and his queen dancing along to the melodies of harps and flutes. 

“You worry for him to such degree. . . One would think he’s of utmost importance. Is he?” Fingers find your hair in gentle strokes, contrasting his jarring tone. “Is he more important than a dance with your husband?” 

You can answer not. Either way, it was a shot to the foot. An answer that appeased him would put you under the potential accusation of deceit and the obvious truth would cost you a peaceful night; no, a week. 

So instead you opt for silence, unsure of how to answer him whilst your mind raced for some sort of way to save your friend from the fate you feared. 

“Worry not.’’ What was that? You fall still, a sense of serenity easing over you at his next words. “His life is safe. . .’’ 一 and just like that, it drained. “For now.’’ 

Breath and voice lodged in the base of your throat, you merely allow the king to sway with you as though he hadn’t ordered for the detainment of an innocent elf nor hung his life above your head. 

“But if I see you with him again. . .’’ The chilling sensation finds your temple as Thranduil turns his head to press a kiss, sickeningly sweet, to your skin as you bite back a sob. 

“I will kill him.’’

[sweethearticism]

Miss ma'am, can I ask for the prompt “You are nothing to me,” like Thranduil said that to the reader because the reader fell for him and Thranduil refuses to return the affection but deep inside he does love them.

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ thranduil ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. you could hold this confession back no longer, but it seems as though you may have been better off holding back. for the elvenking shatters your hopes entirely ( angst ៸៸ hints at unrequited lover - thranduil is emotionally constipated )

· ⊰ note. absolutely! I low-key teared up writing this haha, I love angst but my h e a r t

“Say something,’’ 

A quavering plea drifts into the silent air, desperate, yearning to melt the sheet of ice set between two hearts. Shattered irises mirror that of an aching heart on the verge of crumbling. Frantic, begging for mercy from the heavens above, you suck a breath through your teeth when the deafening quiet keeps its treacherous hold on the forest. 

Nothing but the melodies of crickets hummed throughout the night, a rustle of leaves with the gentle breezes to accompany their tune - yet all are droned out, for your ears are subjected to the battering of your racing heart. 

Thump, 

Thump, thump!

You hold the gaze of sapphire hues that bore into your entire being. Gemstone pools which you could lose yourself in forever if you had the opportunity. Such gorgeous hues were now the catalyst of your growing anxiety, combined with the agonising, noiseless void. 

“Please, my lord.’’ Despite the lump weighing heavy within your throat, you croak out another beg. Where had you gone wrong?

Ah, that’s right. The wailing desires of your heart, which yearned, burned to be his. It is what drove you into this mess and yet it dared to race against your chest now? After it had caused the very situation you find yourself in? After pouring all its deepest emotions out and declaring its love for the elvenking, confessing to him. . . it had the audacity to thrash oh so violently. 

Thranduil gave no indication that he would ease your worries anytime soon and by the looks of it 一 it almost appeared as though he was speechless. You had single-handedly rendered the typically proud and sharp-tongued king wordless. 

“Please,’’ you tremble, eyes gaping when he begins to turn and take his leave. All sense flung from the window as you jerked forward and without thought grabbed his wrist. “Please my lord! Say something, anything. . . please.’’ The silence drove you insane, but perhaps it was better in comparison to the way he snatched his hand from your hold. 

“Do not touch me.’’ 

Your once throbbing heart seized all movements and plummeted into the pits of your stomach as you draw your hand back in a matter of seconds. Ultimately, your voice had finally lost itself within your throat, lodging somewhere within the base as a sick feeling rises to the back of your tongue once you are faced with Thranduil’s back. 

Once more, the void returns; stronger than ever and beyond devastating as you stare at the head of platinum locks. He’s unmoving, stiff as a statue with the exception of the wind drifting into his long locks. You opt for holding your breath and observing, waiting for a movement, his voice, anything. But perhaps that was a foolish notion too, for the words that follow leave your stomach coiling. 

“Have you no shame?’’ As frigid as the midnight air, he queries. “Throwing yourself at a man in such an unsightly manner. Had you not been taught to maintain your emotions?” 

Cerulean gems which once brought a flurry of butterflies now made you wish to curl up in a hole and die, for when they faced you they shone with a thousand insults. Disappointment, dismay, disgust. 

And all for you. 

It takes everything in your power to even attempt to fight back the sting in your eyes, alas, you fall victim to the inevitable tears and as the queasy feeling within you grows. “My lord. . .” “Silence.’’ 

Brows narrow down, gaze sharp and unforgiving as if it sought to pierce through your entire soul. “Listen to me clearly, woman. For I will not have a repeat of tonight.’’ In a single, ruinous moment, your heart was ripped from its ribcage and torn into pieces. 

“You are nothing to me.’’ 

Those words ran through your head, repeat after agonising repeat even long after he turned once more and abandoned you amongst the forest. Even as his figure drifted out of sight, his footsteps no longer heard, that lone phrase haunted your mind and ultimately brought you to your knees. 

You grip the fabric of your clothes, clawing at your chest as if wishing to carve your heart out in an anguished attempt to ease its shattering despair. And when you could do no such, your throat split to release a broken sob whilst your body curled and pleaded with the earth to swallow you whole, rid you of this torment. 

And he heard it all. The exact moment your heart crumbled, the cries of misery which filled his forest realm. Yet it faltered him not as the elvenking aimlessly continued on, allowing his feet to take him somewhere, anywhere, but at your side. 

He raises his head to the moon and for a second wishes to do the same, tear out his heart and bury it six feet under. For it aches just as severely and clenches in violent spasms, encouraging the lingering voice whispering an earful of deceit. 

It is for the best,

It must be done, 

You cannot allow such weakness once again, 

You can not shatter yourself once more. 

He halts, shutting his lids in a feeble attempt to clear his mind. But how can he? When the one he yearns for weeps into the night,

and his heart echoes hers?

[sweethearticism]

Soooooo,,, aha, yandere right? 😃

This is toooootally not your resident yanderefucker coming to request general yandere headcanons for Thranduil and feral Tomoe if that's allowed, aha, nope, not me

Take care of yourself bestie and make sure to drink water and eat. Breaks are important and don't forget to take them and also naps and sleep. Love ya Foxx and ignore this if you aren't feeling up to it 😌💜

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ yandere!thranduil ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. what happens when the king of mirkwood finds his newfound infatuation slowly turning into a dark obsession? ( yandere themes ៸៸ stalking ៸៸ implied violence ៸៸ possessiveness ៸៸ forced kissing ៸៸ dark themes some individuals may deem uncomfortable, viewer discretion advised )

· ⊰ note. spoops my darling! thank you so much for the request <3 I decided to do thranduil and save tomoe for another post since I do have yandere requests for him as well. did I get carried away with this? absolutely, it's been such a long time since I've written yandere and honestly I n e e d it in my life so here, some general headcanons plus a mini oneshot at the end since I love y'all ~

ʚ It was a fateful day, the day you caught the elvenking’s eye. You were apart of the king’s guard, a new member who had recently passed her training of the simple ranger and common guard before being promoted to your current position. It was then that he truly met you and let’s just say, you left more than just a simple impression on him.

ʚ He found himself intrigued by you, thrown off by this newfound curiosity. Thranduil would try everything in his power to ignore this newfound interest and push it to the back of his mind - yet the more he does so, the more difficult it becomes. Now that you were a member of the king’s guard, he saw you more often - interacted with you. It started off innocent, a small infatuation, a lingered stare here and there, an interest in your life, yet what was once harmless slowly morphed into something far greater as the king’s demons pulled him into darkest depths of his mind 

ʚ He convinced himself that it was merely infatuation - or at least, he tried to. Yet he found himself growing closer to you. If there was a situation or something that he needed handled, the first person he turned to was you. The first person he sought out in times of trouble soon became the same person he found himself growing less and less professional with. What was once a simply, straight-to-the-point relation soon turned into companionship and it was obvious to all those around you that you had found favour in the king’s eyes. As time went on he let his walls down, grew vulnerable around you - and what you saw as a sign of his change, what you didn’t know was behind your back a darker power was at play. 

ʚ The feeling of being watched was something that crossed your mind every now and then, however, never something which disturbed your everyday life. It was an ultimate win for Thranduil, you barely noticed the pair of eyes that trailed upon you, even when you were off-duty. You never paid attention to the one or two items which went missing from your private chambers - and it all panned out in the end. Your ignorance fed Thranduil’s obsession, driving him deeper and deeper into this pit he dug for himself. After all, it wasn’t as if he was caught; even if he was - who would believe you? 

ʚ For months he suppressed any desires to whisk you away and make you his by simply keeping you in his watchful gaze. Yearning for you, allowing his mind to become completely consumed by you. Yet those days would soon come to an end when reality hit the elvenking straight in the face - he was not the only one who fancied you. This was made clear when another member of your group had expressed a great fondness towards you, one which you neither shunned nor refused - and it set Thranduil’s mind ablaze. How dare you? After everything - how dare you!? 

ʚ The slow decent into madness turned into an abrupt fall from grace as all restraint Thranduil had snapped the moment he witnessed that very scene. However, he managed to hold strong, to calm now the raging and toiling fire in the pit of his stomach in favour of handling this situation to the best of his abilities. Needless to say, within the course of the week the elf who confessed their love to you disappeared and despite many searches - not a trace of him was left behind. This didn’t bring the pleasure that Thranduil anticipated, as your newfound grief for the loss of your companion left him further dismayed. Why shed tears for that bastard? When you had him, when you had Thranduil? 

ʚ He could take it no more, this ignorance that you insisted on keeping. When would you open your eyes and see that he was right there in front of you? That you fall into his arms as he had expected you to long ago? No, he wouldn’t waste another second. Thranduil took his chance and whisked you away the very moment he saw an opening. You were confused, frightened to find yourself in his private chamber with no possible escape. No matter how much you called for help or tried to slither you way from the confinements, all attempts were left fruitless

ʚ You were startled when your king finally arrived in the room and as expected you immediately threw a slew of questions to him. Why were you here? What was going on? Why was he acting like this? 

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ一

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“What is happening?” 

The silence does little to soothe the growing anxiety welling within your chest as you stare at the man you called your ruler, your king. An answer is what you expected and yet you get none, merely a gaze into your eyes as he inches his way closer. 

On instinct, you step back, unsure of how to react to this newfound aura that left the hairs on your arms pin-straight. “My lord, please answer me.’’ Your shoulders tense at the feel of your calves touching the softness of silk 一 any further and you would fall back onto his bed. “Please tell me what is going on!” 

“Sssh, my starlight.’’ 

An icy sensation finds your skin as the elf takes your face with his hands, a shadow casting over your form as he towers over you. “Do you not trust your king?” 

It’s the lowness of his voice, the eerie serenity which leaves your senses on edge, your heart pounding against its ribcage. “I -’’ You gasp as he pulls you closer, flushed to his form with little to no mistake. “Your majesty - !” 

You are cut off by yet another chill as his thumb rubs against your cheekbone. Cerulean hues find yours and his gaze feels as though it seeks to hold you in place and completely consume you. It’s sharp and just as icy as his touch, leaving you unable to turn away as he dips his head lower. 

“I sometimes wonder whether this is all an act,’’ he chuckles. You grow rigid at the feel of his lips brushing against your own. “You needn’t act any longer, my starlight. Will you not give yourself to me?’’ Any response you may have had is swallowed by the kiss pressed to your mouth, a firm yet loving exchange that leaves your eyes wide and body stiff. 

As quick as the stun came it melted into panic and you swiftly acted, hands finding his shoulders and managing to just barely push him away. “Y-Your majesty,’’ he’s confounded, a little surprised and you swore you saw his brow twitch 一 nevertheless, his eyes soften and he keeps the tender hold on your face. 

“What is it?’’ Concern melts to mirth and soon you are faced with a curl of his lips. “Oh, are you embarrassed?’’ He chuckles, forehead finding yours. “Forget any doubt you may have, you may now love me openly - ” “No.’’ You exhale, using all of your strength to shove him back further so that he’s at the very least a few more inches away. “You mistake me,’’ with a shake of your head, your gaze meets his in a desperate attempt to get your point across. 

“I. . . I am sorry, my lord, if I gave you any unclear signs.’’ With a clear of your throat, you splutter out a hesitant: “I-I hold no interest for you.’’ 

The world altogether stops for Thranduil, leaving him to stare dumbfounded at your face, eyes wide and searching for any sort of hesitation, any sign that maybe 一 just maybe, you were lying. 

And when he finds none? 

The fire returns. 

The silence is shattered by a violent motion, his hand now grabbing your face and pulling you forward without a hint of gentleness left. “My - !” “No, my starlight,’’ he murmurs, bringing his face inches from yours once more. “It is you that mistakes me.’’ A sudden burn of your lungs, the gasping for sweet, sweet, air; the hand that once gripped your jaw suddenly clamped down on your throat, fingers coiling into your skin as you are deprived of your most basic need. 

“Did you think I was giving you a choice in the matter? Silly girl,’’ he tuts, jerking your form closer whilst all you can do is splutter, gasp and attempt to break free from his death grip. “I merely wished to give you a chance at making this easier for yourself. . . But I suppose this is the more thrilling option.’’ 

A blurry cloud takes your vision and if breathing wasn’t difficult before; then it sure as hell was now with the way his lips crashed to yours in a demanding, domineering kiss that lacked all previous adoration. It’s fierce, a forceful interaction that will probably leave the faintest of bruises upon your most delicate skin. 

Thank the heavens his grip on your neck loosened just enough to allow air back into your lungs, but did that matter when Thranduil was practically smothering you in this harsh exchange? 

You attempt to push him back, to pull away, yet you’re yanked and unceremoniously shoved to one of the walls of his chambers. Trapped, with strength that would be unable to overtake him, you can do nothing but whimper as Thranduil steals your very breath away with a slew of kisses that leave you weak in the knees. 

“M-My king -” 

“That’s it. . .’’ He mutters, pulling away for but a moment with ragged breaths; a firm hand in your hair and keeping your heaf flushed against the stone wall. Completely caged by him, vulnerable to him, all you can do is stare from fluttering lids as you’re desperate to ease the burning in your lungs. 

“I am your king,” shattered sapphire hues meet your own, brimming with the madness to which he lost himself to. “And you are my queen, isn’t that right?’’ You attempt to shake your head, try to deny him, but a searing pain shoots through your skull as his fingers suddenly tighten in grip, causing you to cry out. “It’s the very reason I disposed of that lowlife the second I could.’’ 

Your eyes widen, shock filling your core which is quickly replaced by sickness. Realisation brought forth a nauseous feeling; but your shock was quickly taken advantage of.

Thranduil dives in once more, kissing with the same brutality of just a few moments ago. And he claims your lips for the umpteenth time that night, the true actuality of the situation crashes down on you like that of a violent tidal wave. There’s a sting in your eye, a lump in your throat, all of which lead to the shedding of tears 一 prompting him to pull away. 

“Oh, my starlight. Why do you weep?” You struggle, barely able to look him in the eye as you whisper out a quavering: “P-Please let me go. . .’’

It’s quiet for but a moment before the king releases a low, trembling laugh you were certain came straight from the depths of hell. “Let you go? Now, don’t be daft. . .’’ you shiver, sucking a breath at the feel of his lips to your cheek followed by the wet sensation of his tongue slowly tracing over the trail of tears.

“How could I ever allow my queen to leave me?”