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bamsywrites · 8 months ago

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And Comes Dawn pt 10

Pairings: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, Isldur x reader.

Word count: 3k

Summary: The tension breaks.

Tags: fluff, pining, isldur being cute, reader says fuck, reader gets fucked, uhh smut, fingering, cream pie (please pull out for the love of god), sauron is a gentle Dom, dirty talk, minor like really super minor choking, confessions of love, a lot happens okay

Notes: IM NOT GOOD AT SMUT AND DONT READ MY OWN IF I CAN HELP IT, so it's not that proof read.

It had been 3 days since you saw Halbrand, now with Galadriel in prison for sedition as well. The eyes of the Numenorians were never more distrusting of you. Had it not been for your new friendship with Isildur, you would have truly despaired. Unbeknownst to you, Elendil had been defending you and your freedom to the queen. You were beyond grateful for what their family had offered you, from clothing to companionship to protection. They had treated you with a kindness you had rarely seen and it was with no ill will or hidden intentions.

“I wish to take a year off, as my father did, but his expectations of me will not allow it,” Isildur spoke to you as you walked through the city as you had done every evening.

“It seems he only wants what is best for you, though. He cares for you, and it is obvious.” Your eyes were not looking at him as you spoke. Instead, they were focused on a group of people who were dancing. You’d never seen anything like it.

“Yes, I know. I suppose I just wish he would listen,” his gaze followed yours, and he smiled, “We could join them, you know. If you’d like.”

You shook your head, “I have never danced before.”

“I can teach you. It's not that hard. My sister made me learn with her years ago.”

“I’m afraid I’d step on your feet.”

“How many times have you run into me, too distracted by some statue or art to pay attention? I assure you, my feet will be fine.” He teasingly bumped your shoulder with his.

You looked at him apprehensively. “I suppose…”

“Come then,” he grins as he pulls you to the group. One hand on your shoulder and the other on your back. He guides you to the music, and as suspected, you did step on his feet.

“Here, watch what my feet do and match yours to my movements.”

You watched his feet, but it almost made it worse. You couldn’t help but laugh and rest your head against his shoulder. “I am no good at this.”

“No, you’re right. You are quite shit at this,” He laughs with you. It's a deep and comforting laugh. It fills you with light.

“Isildur,” You look up at him, “I am a lady. How dare you speak in such a way in front of me.” You try to keep your face serious, but your smile is pulling at the corners of your lips.

“You are a foreigner whose companions have committed sedition and violence. Yet the word shit is too much for you. What about damn? Ass? Thank the valar I didn’t say fuck.” He teased you back.

“Isildur,” you scolded him, but it was not serious, your eyes twinkling with a smile.

“Have you never spoken in such a way?” He askes with a shake of his head, “Of course you haven’t,” he answered for you, “If you say fuck right here and now, I will buy you a new dress, and the hair accessories you seem to admire so.”

You gave him a look with narrowed eyes, “You jest.”

“I am completely serious. If you say fuck, first thing tomorrow morning I will take you to a shop.”

You looked at him, brows furrowed before muttering something inaudible.

“Louder, I have to be able to hear it.”

“Fuck,” you muttered softly.

“C’mon,” Isildur egged you on with a smirk, “A little louder.”

As soon as you spoke the word, an older woman approached the two of you. “How dare you! This is a respectable establishment for respectable people. Leave. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Isildur was trying his hardest not to laugh. You could tell it. He led you through the crowd, and once you stood outside, he started to laugh.

Your cheeks were as red as a tomato, lips parted in surprise, “I got us kicked out.”

“You got us kicked out,” he said in between laughs. It didn’t take long until you were laughing alongside him.

He grabs your shoulders, “Please, I beg you, do not tell my father,” his hands move to your face, squeezing it gently. “He would hang me from his ship's mast if he knew.”

“Perhaps you deserve it.”

He scoffed, taking his hands away from your face. “You wound me.”

“You forced me to say fuck,” you said in a whisper.

“I didn’t force you to say it that time.”

You glared at him, “Shut up.”

“I think you would likely miss the sound of my voice.”

You were about to speak again when an all too familiar deep voice stopped you. Isildurs' expression changed, too. You figured that Halbrand hadn’t seen you. He was talking with the forge master and showing the new crest he bore. You were confused about the matter.

How did he get released from prison and then earn a guild crest?

“I need this job, please, just one sword and I will convince you.” You heard his voice for the first time in days.

“To start anew, I remember.”

“Yes, and to prove to a woman, I am serious in my intentions.”

The forgemaster smirked, “A woman?”

“A woman.”

You stood watching the interaction, almost forgetting that Isildur was there. You had told him of what had happened in the cells between him and Galadriel and then your reaction to it. He knew this had to be hard for you.

“You know,” he spoke softly, “I know you think he is in love with the elf. Or that he is torn between the two of you. But, if he was trying to win the elves' affections, he would be asking for armor to go to war and not for a job.”

“You did not see the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her.”

“But I have heard how he talks to you, how he looks at you. He looks at you as if you were one of the valar. It is rather obvious to anyone who sees.”

You wet your lips, “I do not wish to give my heart to someone who will only break it.”

“If he breaks your heart, I will destroy him,” he teases softly. “But, honestly, if he is what you want, all you have to do is take him. It is in your hands.”

You stood in silence for a moment or two. “I would like to go to my room, to think over what you have said. I did enjoy today.”

“I know, I did, too.” He smiles and squeezes your shoulder before you walk off.

Valandil grasped Isildurs shoulder, both watching you walk away. “You're a stronger man than I. I couldn't do it.”

“She is simply a friend.”

“I am almost certain that you have the names of all your children picked out. You dream of her in a wedding dress."

Isildur rolled his eyes, pushing his friend away, “Shut up. It is an honor to be her friend.” But the sadness as he watched you turn the corner told another story.

“Come, let us get drinks. I'll buy yours.”

“When did you get back?”

The door had not opened all the way before you spoke. You had spent the evening and some of the night thinking over the words that Isiludr said. What did you want? It wasn’t hard to come to the answer, but it was figuring out what Halbrand wanted that vexed you. Would you end up hurt and heartbroken?

You did not want that.

But you would never know if you didn’t try. If you sat and did nothing, he would surely move on. Isildur was correct, as well, that if it was Galadriel's affections that he sought, then he would have been asking for armor. A job sounded like he wanted to stay, to make a permanent place for himself here. For himself, and,perhaps, you. It was with that thought that you found yourself outside his door.

You regretted not waiting until the morning when you saw him, loose shirt and hair dripping from a bath. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him.

“Early this morning, before sunrise.” He spoke, his eyes taking you in. You saw it now, what Isildur had mentioned. He did look at you as if you were one of the valar. As if you hung the stars themselves and taught the sun how to shine.

You stood there, in silence, looking at him and not knowing what to say or do. The revelation made your breath catch in your chest. Also, you had missed him, and you had felt heartbroken. Now, looking at how he looked at you, you thought perhaps he had been heartbroken by you too.

“Sweet one, I am sorry for what happened before. I ..-”

You shook your head, holding up a hand. It took a moment for the words to come, and when they did, they were but a whisper.

“Do you love me?”

He looked at you in shock. You felt like your heart stopped beating in your chest as you waited for an answer. He simply stood there. You could see in his eyes that he was thinking a million things at once. When he didn’t speak, you asked again.

“Halbrand, do you love me?”

He wet his lips and nodded. “I do,” his voice sounded broken, almost defeated. Like loving you was losing some game. His eyes lifted from where they stared at the floor and looked at you.

Any sense of self control, of decency, it all crumbled with those simple words. It was as if a magnet drew you to him. Suddenly, his face was in your hands and your lips on his. He did not attempt to hesitate. A groan that soon turned into a growl rumbled in his chest as he kissed you back. He tasted wine and smoke. It was intoxicating. Your fingers found their way into his hair as he held your face in his hands.

He broke the kiss, holding your chin in his grasp as he kept your face away from him. “Sweet one,” his voice was deep and rough. You could feel his breath on your skin.“Tell me this is what you want.”

“I want this,” you didn’t hesitate a moment, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” Halbrand groaned, pulling you into his room and shutting the door. His lips were on yours in an instant, pushing you against the door. One of his knees found its way in between your legs as his tongue tasted the inside of your mouth. Your mind was quickly becoming fuzzy, a warmness spreading through your body, an aching between your legs. His hands were frantically moving along your body, as if he wanted to feel all of you at once. His hands were calloused and rough but you enjoyed it. Just as you enjoyed the rough scratches of his beard on your face.

This time, it was you who pulled away for breath. The air between you was hot and thick. He rested his forehead against yours with one of his hands gently holding your neck. “Tell me to stop, sweet one, and I will,” his thumb caressed your skin lightly.

You looked up at him, “I am yours.”

“Do not say words when you do not know the weight of them, sweet one.”

“I am yours,” you repeated, in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, you guided his hands under your dress and to the sticky, wet heat between your thighs. You couldn't help but smile at the way his breath hitched in his throat and the way his eyes flutter.

His fingers moved, rubbing soft small circles against your clit and watched your face intently. “Has anyone touched you like this?”

You shook your head, and the hand still on your throat squeezed gently, “Use your words, sweet one.”

“No, only you.” You gasped, his finger slid inside you.

“Fuck, do you hear that?” His finger moved faster, the wet sound of your arousal filling the room. “My sweet one,” he cooed, “fucking soaked at the thought of my cock, huh?”

You whimpered, bucking your hips against his finger. He added another one, his eyes never leaving your face, and you cried out his name. Your lips parted slightly and he took it as an invitation to kiss you once more. It was wet and rough and sloppy. He was getting just as lost in the moment, you could tell by the almost primal grunts and groans that left his lips.

His fingers never stopped, even when his lips found your neck. His lips sucked, teeth, teeth nipped, and tongue soothed all well. You gasped and whimpered at his touch. There would be hickeys there in the morning, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. His hand on your neck moved to the valley between your chest before cupping your breast, his thumb brushing your clothed nipple.

That was enough, your cunt clenched around his fingers and your body arched into him. It was a pleasure you had never experienced before, your mind went blank.

“That's it, that's my girl,” Halbrand mumbled softly, his fingers never ceasing. “C'mon sweet girl. Fuck, look at you. Look at that pretty fucking face.”

You breathed heavily. You could feel how you had coated his hands. Your senses came back to you. Your head fell back against the door, “that was incredible.”

He chuckled, his thumb coaxing you to look at him. “Pretty girl, look at me.” You did as he told you, his hands cupping your face. Your own essence smearing against your cheeks.

“That's my girl,” he squeezed your cheeks in his hand. “My pretty fucking girl. I need you to look at me, okay, and I need you to be honest. There is nothing more I want right now than your cunt squeezing around my cock but I need to know you want that too.”

You breathed heavily, that feeling in between your thighs returning, though you weren't sure it had ever left. “Yes, Halbrand, please.”

That's all it took for him to hoist you against the wall, bunching the material of your dress at your hips. He was too desperate to wait to take your clothes off. He made quick work of lowering his pants just enough to free his cock.

“Sweet one, look at me, in my eyes. If this hurts, tell me, and I'll stop.” You nodded and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. One hand held your hips in place while the other gripped your face, ensuring you looked at him and only him.

The moment his cock stretched you, your mouth parted in a gasp. It didn't hurt much at all, perhaps due to the slick arousal that was there already.

“Fuck,” his breath hitched, “Fuck. Does my cock feel good, sweet one?” You nodded, “No, no, no. Use your words. Let me hear it.”

“Your cock feels good,” you breathed out.

“Such foul words from such a pretty mouth.” His thumb traced your bottom lip. “I'm going to move now.”

You nodded before catching yourself, “please.”

The first stroke made your eyes roll back. He felt incredible. You could hear the slick sound of him fucking you and it only aided in your arousal.

“You're taking my cock so well, sweet one.” He kept moving, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, soon your hips were moving to match his thrusts and your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

Something about that flipped a switch in him. His thrusts were harder and faster, and his fingers gripped you tighter. But you did not mind at all.

“You're mine,” he whispered. “This my fucking cunt, isn't it?” When you nodded his eyes all but rolled into the back of his head. You were his and his alone. You were gone, your thoughts only consisted of him. How he was making you feel. There was nothing else in this world other than his cock.

“My cunt is yours,” you repeated, your eyes started to close but he grabbed your face.

“Eyes on me, sweet one. Focus on the feeling. I want to see how good I make my pretty girl feel. Look at those pretty eyes. Those. Gorgeous. Fucking. Eyes.” He gasped, his grip on your face tight. Every word he spoke, he thruster harder into you. You whimpered and arched into him, your fingers now tugging at his hair desperately.

“You feel that cock, huh? It's yours, only yours. This is your cock, sweet one. I am yours. No one else will have me like this."

Your breathing quickened, his name falling from your lips over and over. Desperate and begging.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered, “tell me you love me and I will come undone.”

Through whines and whimpers, you spoke. “I love you.” it was you who came first, crying out his name as white stars exploded in your vision, but he soon followed. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt the hot breath and vibrations of his moans as he filled you.

He stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily. You finally gained your senses and couldn't help but start to giggle. That was incredible. You'd never felt anything like it.

“Are you laughing at me?” Halbrand teased, his face still in your neck.

“No, no. I just….that was incredible.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I take it you're going to want to do it again.”

“Well, yes, but preferably on a bed next time.”

He chuckled and lifted his head, “I love you,” he gently squeezed your cheeks in his hands. “I love you. I need you to know that,” he rested his forehead against yours.

“I know, Halbrand. I saw you today, at the forge. I know.” You wrapped your fingers around his wrists and gently squeezed.

“The elf means nothing, not compared to what I feel for you. I consider her a friend, nothing more. You must believe this. You are….everything.”

You nodded. “I love you, too.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and neck. “Let's get you a bath. Once I take you to bed, I'm not going to let you leave."

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand x oc #sauron x oc #trop fanfiction #trop x reader #rings of power x reader #rings of power fanfiction #isildur x reader #annatar x reader

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prettyshinnythings · 6 months ago

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The Offering. Chapter 2.

Story Idea: What if Sauron had been successful? What if he'd taken all of Middle Earth and obtained everything he ever desired? What if he still desired something more?

Warnings: This chapter is 18 plus. Contains smut, language, and an arranged marriage.

Pairings: Sauron x Reader

Chapter One

Chapter Two:

I slept for hours.

My body was exhausted from the night before and all that had transpired.

My journey to this new place and all the anxiety that had come with it had taken much more of a toll on me than I had initially realized.

I awaken to the thought of my dark king, his voice echoing in the back of my mind. As if he was lying in the elegant canopied bed beside me. My eyes focus on the dark wood of the posts upholding the canopy and I watch as the flames of the torches lighting the room dance in the dark mahogany. It is an enchanting sight to be sure, the dancing flame granting me peace. I stretch in the bed and note how the silk sheets kiss the exposed skin that is uncovered by my nightdress. I had not seen my dark lord since the night before, but his presence hung around me. His eyes ever watching from some unknown corner of the room.

It should scare me, but it does not. I find it rather comforting.

Slowly, I sit up in the bed and take note of the light fighting to come in through the window across the room. It was impossible to know what the exact time was. The constant darkness and ash seemed to hang in the air like dust particles. My long hair cascades down my back, ringlets of curls falling down to the small of my back as I pull back the blankets of bed and swing my legs over the side. The pads of my feet find the warmed stone of the floor beneath me, warmed by the fireplace that warmed the room around me. As my eyes swept over every visible surface around me I am in awe of the comfort and contentment that I feel inside of me. So much so that i am almost convinced that the sight around me was all me was one of his illusions, but given that the firewood had burned down throughout the night, I could convince myself that it had to be real.

"There shall be no illusions with you, little dove."

My heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice as it sounds from behind me. In caution, I glance over my shoulder and meet his gaze while he stands in the doorway of his bed chamber. I swallow hard as his eyes rake up and down my body. The same mischievous glint that had been present in his eyes the night before is there now. He seems enthralled by the way my nightdress clings to every curve of my body. As though I was a statue made out of marble. Made just for his viewing pleasure. The look on his face makes me wish we were already wed. It makes me wish he would rip the fine silk from my body and claim me as his own.

He is amused by this thought when it enters my mind. His lips pull into a smug smile while he takes a step forward. The closer he gets to me, the more my nerves build up within me. I cease glancing over my shoulder and turn my attention to the fireplace before me. Sauron takes me in his hands, my back pressed into his chest as he wraps his arms around me. His lips are suddenly dangerously close to my ear as he lingers breathing me in.

"I will claim you in mind, body, and soul once we are wed..."

His voice drifts off for a moment, long enough for his lips to trace along the sensitive part of my pointed ear. His touch is deliberate and meant to conjure up the desire within me that was already brewing beneath the surface.

"... From this day forward you shall be mine and mine alone."

My breathing hitches and my eyes flutter closed at his words. A chill moves up my spine and leaves goosebumps in their wake as his hands slowly trace my bare arms before guiding his lips to my neck. Out of instinct, I tilt my head to grant him better access to my neck. An action that earns a groan from him. He appears satisfied with my willingness to trust him without question. Without a fight or protest. Instead, I feel like an Elven maiden stealing a moment with her betrothed. Not half of an arrangement brought together by others.

It feels natural and right.

He breathes me in once more, whilst I find myself leaning into his touch, my body molding in against his. I feel his hardened cock against my backside, a sensation that makes me feel powerful. Powerful because touching me caused the dark king to become wanton with desire. I, a princess of a small village, no one compared to him, and yet in his arms I felt power. With shaking hands, I reach out to touch the arms that have been wrapping me in an embrace against him. He wore longer sleeves so I could not feel him beneath me, but even being this close sent my head spinning.

"Will it always feel like this?"

I ask, my voice breathless and dizzying.

"Will you always consume me so thoroughly?"

My question hangs in the air around us for a moment, his lips unwilling to detach themselves from my neck. However, he does not let my question hang too long before responding in an uneven growl.

"It will, but it will take momentous work on both of our ends. A union, even arranged, always takes effort. But it is possible if you try hard enough."

Without saying anything more, there is a silent promise that falls over the two of us. As though we both do not want to lose whatever we have built between the both of us. Sure, it could be the newness of this situation, but a part of me felt that it could be something more than hormones and attraction. I knew that only time would be able to tell on that front but, as of this moment, I was more than content to be here in his arms.

A gentle sigh escapes his lips when the sound of knocking on the thick wooden door breaks us of our spell.

"The servants are here to ready you for our wedding. I am afraid we will have to wait until later to continue this."

He gives the side of my head one final kiss before pulling away from me. My body feels cold without his holding mine, but I try to not mourn the loss of him. Instead, I attempt to focus on the fact that we will be together again before nightfall. I glance over my shoulder one final time and watch him leave through the door, revealing the servants who stand on the other side of the door. Two elven maidens bow their heads as he passes them without a second glance.

They turn their attention towards me once we are alone before taking a step inside of the bedroom. Neither of them speaks to me as they gesture for me to follow them. Which I do without question, eager to do whatever I need to in order to be ready for my dark king.

He continues to consume all of my thoughts all through the morning as I ready myself. Every touch, the feeling of his lips on my skin, all of it played within my mind until finally, at long last, the time came and I was standing before the same door that I had met him through the night before. I was so consumed in my thoughts that I could hardly understand how I got here and how I had managed to get dressed into the most beautiful white gown my body has ever (and will ever) touch. All of it was a blur until this very moment. All I could think of was him. All I could think of was being his.

Even now, as I stand in front of the door with a bouquet of beautiful white and black flowers. I glance over them thoroughly as a desperate distraction from the nerves building inside of me. Nerves that only worsened when the doors of the throne room opened with a quiet creak. Chandeliers illuminated the room as I hesitated at the threshold, my hands nervously clasped in front of me. Peering inside I see a full room of Sauron's followers. Among them, were elves, men, and dwarves that had sworn allegiance to their King. Individuals who he rewarded for their loyalty when he had risen to power. A court of finely dressed beings reaping a reward so many would never know. I swallow hard and take a step forward, my feet finally carrying me over the threshold and into the room with everyone else.

Mixed in the back were the elven servants who stared back at me with blank eyes. All of them have the same collars around their necks as the elf that I had seen the night before. The same as the two maidens that helped me to get ready for this very moment. I knew that Sauron hated the elves and had enslaved most of them the moment he rose to power. He hated all elves. All, but one small village of them. The same one I had borne into. The same village who offered me up as a wife to the dark king.

My village never stood against Sauron and he was about to reward them for their compliance. Just as he had rewarded his followers handsomely.

The moment I think of him, my eyes find him at the end of the aisle. Since he was the king he stood there alone, without a priest or religious figurehead to officiate this ceremony. Though Sauron had as much power as a God, it made sense that he would run his own union without the interference of others. A cruel smile befalls his handsome face as I approach him as quickly as my nerves will allow me to move. He did not seem to mind the slowed pace, if anything his smile grew at the acknowledgment of my nerves. It did not help that the full room of strangers kept their eyes squarely on me. Under their gazes, I feel judgment radiating beneath the surface. A mixture of loathing and jealousy flickering behind forced expression.

He ignores the others and remains fixated on me as I carry myself forward. Unable to ignore the stares of strangers, I decide to use him as my visual anchor whilst I move forward. It felt like an eternity before I was within his reach and once I was, he outstretched his hands towards me. The moment he touches me, the spark that I had felt this morning before shoots up my spine. The dark desire within me is strong enough to take my breath away.

Before his kingdom, we stand hands entwined. All he has to do to start the ceremony is part his lips and the entire room grows even more silent than it had been before. The power over his people amuses him, his smirk growing.

"We are gathered here, in the heart of Mordor. In my kingdom to celebrate the union of myself and the celestial elven Princess, (y/n). This union is to mark the goodwill between our kingdom and the people who reside in it. With (y/n) at my side, we will continue to bring peace and perfection to Middle Earth. With every heir she gives me, I promise that my children will live alongside you and help maintain this peace and order. This is my promise to you, that our union will ensure all cement the future of Middle Earth under my rule. Together we may move forward into a new form of perfection."

He finishes speaking and is met by forced applause from everyone in attendance. At the mention of heirs, I feel my stomach turn. I had never believed Sauron to be the type of man who would want children. I always imagined that he would be too afraid of his power being handed down to any offspring. That he could be jealous if any heir surpassed his power.

My thoughts return to the present as he gives my hand a little squeeze, noticing my sudden mental distance.

"Do you swear your loyalty to me princess (y/n)? Do you swear to bind yourself to me from this day forward until the end of all days?"

When he asks this question it is loud enough for everyone to hear it, but there's something in the way his eyes peer into mine that makes me feel as if it is just the two of us together. Like we are in our own sacred ritual.

The way that it had been for my parents before me.

"I swear my loyalty to you Lord Sauron. I swear to bind myself to you from this day to the end of all my days. I swear to be your wife, the bearer of your heirs, and to do the very best for Middle Earth."

I swear more than I need to and it catches my betrothed off guard, but he seems pleased.

"Then let it be known that as of this moment, the Princess (y/n) and I are wed before you and under my decree as the Lord of Middle Earth and the Ruler of Rings of Power. Let our union be sealed with a kiss."

I give our audience a final look, the servants offering a look sympathy in their eyes even as their faces remain blank. His words bring an awful promise of more time under his reign. A deeper weaving of power that would sink deeper into the earth, consuming all they had known before he rose to power. They looked at me with sympathy because they knew that this union was a tool for achieving this new power. Like a pawn piece. But as his lips descend onto mine, his kiss seems to tell me that I am more than that.

And I want, more than anything, to believe him.

From the moment that the ceremony concludes I am caught up in a dizzying flurry of emotions. Nonstop and ever-consuming until finally, I stood in the quiet peace and tranquility of his chambers.

Our chambers.

My mind feels the effects of the day, all of the build-up to this moment had weighed upon my mind more than I had previously realized. It is not until I hear the quiet locking of the door that it truly hits me that I am alone with my husband. This morning had been but a taste of what it would be like to be in his arms. How whole we could feel alone, but this time I knew there would be no servants interrupting us. No stopping once we start.

At the thought, I turn to face my dark king. My eyes are wide as I study him in the firelight of the room. He looks handsome as always, and it's enough to take my breathing hitch. I study him for the first time, up close and without raw lust building up within me. As if this is the first time that I am truly seeing him for myself.

"You are beautiful."

I whisper in awe, unable to stop myself from letting the words slip from my mouth. It was a silly comment, but a true one all the same. He lowers his head and peers up at me with an amused expression dancing in his eyes. A smile plays on his lips and it seems to enhance his beauty. He does not speak, simply reaches for me, his hands taking mine in his.

"It is I, who should be saying that to you."

He speaks softly. My cheeks flush at the compliment, but I do not know if I believe them or if he has simply stated this to ease me into what we were to do next. Either way, I feel the smile pull at my lips. He was known for whispering sweet nothings of deception to the ones he used. I could not help but wonder if I was just another tool to be used. A partner for heirs and nothing more.

"I have already told you little dove, there will be no illusions with you. No deception or malice. With you, I shall be nothing more than your husband."

He takes a step forward, eyes seeming to darken a shade. He steps forward once more, his hands drawing my body in against his. Chest to chest we stand as anticipation hangs between the two of us. Our gazes locked together.

"My dark king."

I whisper, feeling the nerve bubbling up within me. Enough nerve that I find myself moving onto my tiptoes, my lips going against his. I do not know what has overcome me, but he does not deny me the sweet sensation of his lips kissing me back. His hands are in my hair, entangled in the loose curls that fell to the middle of my back. There is no calm between the two of us as we kiss. Instead, we are at each other like starved animals. I had never thought of what it would be like the first time I would be with a man, but I had no idea it would feel like this. This craving is completely undeniable.

"My dark queen."

His voice breaks through the uneven breathing, his words whispered against my lips. I feel frantic and frenzied, my eyes locking with his as he attempts to control himself. Slowly, his left-hand traces over my shoulder, his ring-clad finger linking under the thin strap of my wedding dress. A chill moves up my spine when I feel the ring lightly brush against my skin.

His one ring to rule them all.

I breathe in a slow steady breath as he pulls the strap off of my shoulder. He pulls away, eyes trained on me while he slowly walks around me. He stops walking behind me after a moment. With his chest against my back, he breathes me in, the same way he had before. My eyes flutter closed and the tension builds between the both of us.

"You have been on my mind all day..."

He breathes, his lips on my neck. My breathing hitches when I feel the cold metal of his ring on my other shoulder, linking under the strap and pulling it off of my shoulder. When he does this, the fabric of my wedding dress falls off of my body, pooling onto the floor at my feet. I am completely naked under my wedding dress, but I cannot bring myself to care that I am so exposed to him. I am too engulfed in him and the way his lips brush along my neck. The coolness of the night air brushes against my nipples, causing them to harden, and my breathing to hitch once more. A dark chuckle falls from his lips before guiding his hands to trace over my shoulders and then down around me, resting over my breasts. His fingers toy with my nipples causing a sharp intake of breath on my behalf. I had never imagined that anyone could make me feel like this. I had heard that sins of the flesh were all-consuming, but this made my skin feel like it was on fire.

"... All I could think about was resuming what we started earlier."

My lips part and a gasp escapes me when he lightly twists and pulls at my nipples. He hums in satisfaction when he hears me gasp. I can feel him smirk at the sound of desperation that bubbles from within me. I cannot focus when one hand slips from my breast and down my torso. Slowly, the pads of his fingers trace down every curve of my body descending lower and lower until he reaches my sensitive bud. I inhale sharply at the slightest bit of pressure that he places against me. His thumb starts to rub small circles against the bud.

"Oh my."

Those two words are all I can manage to say before he sinks one finger inside of me. He pumps the finger in and out of me slowly, my sex wet with desire. Another chuckle escapes him as I find my body naturally moving against his finger, my body in need of friction.

"You are a naughty little minx, aren't you? Using my finger to please you."

I find myself leaning into him, my head resting back against his chest. He adds another finger into my sex, his other hand still toying with my nipple.

"Please..."

I whimper, the overstimulation of my body becoming too much for me to bear. This was my first time being touched like this, this was my first time feeling so many of these new sensations.

"... It is all so much. I do not know how much more I can take."

A tsk tsk pulls from his lips, thrusting his two fingers inside of me a little deeper causing my knees to buckle.

"Oh come now, you would be surprised how much torture a body can withstand."

A shiver moves up my spine at his words. I knew who my husband was and what torture he had caused thousands to endure. If there was anyone who knew what bodies could endure it was him.

"Is that what you seek to do dear husband? To consummate our marriage through the cruel torture of your hands?"

I feel a bundle of nerves in my lower stomach and with each thrust of his fingers and flick of my sensitive bud, the nerves seem to build up. Like an explosion ready to spill over. Another moan falls from my lips and his thrusts quicken. He can sense what my body needs and the release I feel my body is gearing up to do. This new sensation was foreign but invited all the same. I find myself reaching behind me, my hands resting on the side of his face while he starts to mark my skin. His hand that had been on my breast reaches up to rest over mine, a low growl escaping him. My head feels as if it is spinning and the build-up of nerves becomes all-consuming and my body cannot handle another moment of it. I feel myself come undone on his fingers, my body quivering as my walls tighten around his fingers before relaxing once my body finally comes back down.

"My darling, you will find that some torture is worth it."

He groans, pulling his fingers from my core. He brings his fingers to his mouth once he has unlatched himself from my neck and licks them clean. I watch him in a haze before he turns me to face him, lifting me up into his arms when he sees how weak my legs have become. My eyes feel heavy but my racing heart keeps me alert and bracing for whatever he has planned next.

Pausing at the foot of the bed, his eyes look into mine. As if he is truly seeing me for the first time since we met the night before. He swallows hard when I do not look away, completely unable to look away from him.

"What is it?"

I ask, my eyes moving from his to his lips and then back up to his gaze. Without thinking I bite the bottom of my lip, the unknown of what was about to transpire between the both of us hanging in the air. I can tell that he wants to say something, but he shakes his head rather than responding. Instead, he lays me down on the bed. He stands back up and studies my naked body before him before moving his hands to his long tunic. He removes it and everything else that had been on his body before turning to the bed, my body pinned beneath his. I gance own at his hardened cock, leaking with precum, and ready to be buried deep within me.

"I will be gentle little dove. It is not my wish to cause you any discomfort."

He groans the words, pressing his lips to mine while he slides inside of me. The feeling of him inside of me is unlike anything I could have expected. I had always wondered what my first time would be like. I had always thought men must have preferred sex compared to women, that wedding nights consisted of careless thrusts until the man got what he wanted leaving their wives used shells by the end of the night. But this, this was something else entirely. This moment felt fulfilling and deeply intoxicating. I did not feel discomfort only sheer bliss from the way that husband's cock fit inside of me.

Sauron does not move once he is inside of me. He waits a moment for my body to adjust, his lips tender against mine. When he does start moving he is gentle. Starting off with a slow roll of his hips, his cock moving deeper inside of me.

He groans breaking the kiss to murmur.

"So tight... Like you were made for me."

He sounds almost as if he is detached in this moment, as though he is lost in his pleasure. But he grips me tightly, ensuring that I feel the very same pleasure he feels at this moment. I find myself spreading my legs as far as they can go, like an invitation for him to keep moving. Reading my mind he begins pushing himself in and out of me at a faster pace. My hands reach for his chest, running them along his broad and strong shoulders. Memorizing him as though this would be the only time I would ever get to have him this way. His own hands are planted firmly on either side of my torso, propping him up while he continues his movements.

My eyes look to the canopy hanging above us in our bed and can see our shadows faintly dance in the firelight along the light fabric. It is almost hypnotizing to watch, and it arouses a deeper feeling inside of me. A breathlessness that accompanied the bundle of nerves I had felt earlier when he had his fingers buried deep inside of me. The same sensation I had moments before I came undone. But I try to focus on him and his pleasure. Knowing he had yet to have the same release I could not help but wonder what it would feel like if he came inside of me. Reading my mind, my husband peers down at me, his eyes a darker shade than they had been moments before. He angles himself to hit the bundle of nerves directly with his cock. An action that causes me to moan, my hands holding onto him for support.

"Tonight is about you (y/n). If you want to feel me fill you up with my seed, I will. We have eternity to chase our pleasures for one another."

He makes the same movement he just had, moaning with me as he feels my walls tighten around him. I was on the precipice of letting go, one more movement like that, and I would be done for.

"My dark king, cum inside of me. Fill me with your seed. I want to feel you."

I beg in the darkness of our bedroom. My voice is unashamed of the deep desire I feel inside of me. My request hangs in the air around us for only a moment before his lips find one once more and with one final thrust he and I cum together at the same time. His seed was hot and deep inside of me. My walls milk him of his seed, my sex is greedy for all he could give me.

We lay locked and remained together like this until his cock sends one final twitch of cum inside of me. Only then does he pull out of me. He lays on the bed next to me with a quiet look of satisfaction on his face. Without saying a word he pulls me next to him, resting my head on his chest before wrapping an arm around me.

"Mine."

He rasps, my eyes catching his. One last look before my eyelids grow heavy and I feel sleep calling for me.

"Yours."

#annatar #annatar x reader #charlie vickers #halbrand smut #halbrand x reader #the rings of power #sauron x reader #trop #halbrand #sauron #sauron x oc #rop

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xximmortalkissxx · 1 month ago

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Where the Shadows Lie (Chapter 4: Ost-In-Edhil)

GIF by jabberwocky1996 GIF merlin-gifs GIF by tarmairons

🖤A03 Link🖤

Pairings: Sauron/Mairon x Móriel (Original Character: Daughter of Morgoth) | Adar/Móriel

Summary: Móriel, at long last, arrives in Eregion, only to be met with an unexpected surprise…

Warnings: This chapter does contain smut and some light emotional manipulation

Divider by zaldritzorose / Banner by sylusz

The narrow portcullis groaned as it rose before Móriel until at last it gave a final clank, locking into place. She stepped inside at a leisurely pace while her eyes, now dim and Noldor gray, took in the city. Ost-In-Edhil was beautiful in the warm light of early morning. A gentle breeze drifted lazily off the river Glanduin, ushering the playful kingfishers into the city. The small birds perched on shingled rooftops and splendid pale towers, sang sweetly as they greeted the sun.

The city was already beginning to stir with life as local artisans set up small stalls in the square, each decorated with the emblems of their craft. Móriel, or Faeleth as she would now be called, returned simple greetings when offered but did not stop.

Not until she reached the city's center.

There, standing tall and proud, hammer in one hand and a shining gem in the other, was Fëanor. His likeness carved in stone by a masterful hand. One who must have known him well in life, or at the very least, took strict instructions from the one who did.

Móriel paused there for a moment, arms crossed tight across her chest, eyes locked on the gem as the golden light of the sun refracted and danced upon the stone. She felt restless, uneasy, and utterly enthralled the longer she lingered in his company, until a soft voice broke her from her rumination.

“He has that effect,” a petite elleth remarked, standing beside Móriel.

“Legends often do…” Móriel mused, turning towards the newcomer with a deceptively warm smile.

“Mirdania,” the stranger introduced herself, offering a respectful nod with a gentle hand placed over her heart.

“Faeleth.”

“Is this your first time visiting Ost-In-Edhil?” Mirdania asked inquisitively, her large green eyes brimming with curiosity.

“What gave me away?” Móriel replied with an easy laugh, though her arms remained stiff against her chest.

“You have the look of someone - not lost, but searching for something.”

“That’s…perceptive.” Móriel replied with a disarming smile.

“Comes with the territory. You don’t become one of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain without a keen eye,” Mirdania quipped, bumping her shoulder playfully against Móriel.

“You’re one of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain?” Móriel asked eagerly, marveling at her own good fortune.

“I am. Are you a smith?”

Móriel gave a self-deprecating scoff. “A prospective one at best. I know enough not to set myself on fire, and to recognize that, compared to you, I know almost nothing.”

This time it was Mirdania who laughed, though there was no mockery in it. “Everyone starts somewhere, even Lord Celebrimbor.” She remarked with a voice filled with warmth and admiration. “In fact, he would be the first to tell you as much.”

Móriel turned back to the statue of Fëanor once more, but her eyes flicked to Mirdania before speaking. “A humble Fëanorean? This truly is a city of wonders.”

Mirdania snorted, covering her mouth in a thinly veiled attempt to hide her amusement. “Witty. You’d have no trouble getting along with the other smiths.” She paused for a moment, tapping her chin in contemplation. “Would you be interested in working at the forge? I can’t promise a hands-on apprenticeship right away, but it’s a foot in the door.”

“Truly?” Móriel asked, eyes beaming with gratitude, not all of it insincere.

“It won't be easy work; sweeping the workshop, polishing tools, undoubtedly serving tea to smiths too absorbed in their work to remember to eat and drink properly,” she replied, giving Móriel’s arm a reassuring touch.

Móriel flinched instinctively. Anticipating the inevitable look of searing pain to wash over Mirdania’s sweet face. But it doesn’t.

Of course it doesn’t.

“I-I would be honored.” Móriel recovered swiftly with a warm smile, placing her hand gingerly on Mirdania’s.

“Then follow me Faeleth, and welcome to Ost-In-Edhil.”

The raw power emanating from the mighty forge was a marvel to behold. Mairon had described its construction to her in detail during their journey, but even his artful tongue couldn't do this place justice. The design of the tower itself was understated, effortlessly simple, elegant in the way most architecture among the Eldar was. But the power radiating from the hearth, resonating with every tink of a cross pein hammer, flowing from the glowing crucibles…

It was almost like being home. Almost.

There were no screams here, no pleading cries in the dark. Only the warm voices of comradery and soft laughter melding with metallic clangs and subtle magics. But the smell of molten metal, the smothering heat from the hearth, and the haze of smoke drifting through the air… that was all too familiar.

This was where the three rings of power were forged. This was where hers would take shape.

It was almost poetic that a forge was where she would be freed from the iron grip of the Valar. Where she would be born anew.

“This is…remarkable” Móriel admitted, eyes wandering from the forge to Mirdania and back again.

“It is,” Mirdania agreed as she led Móriel up the stairs. “There are many wonders in Arda, but this one - this one is truly special.”

As they reached the last step, Móriel's eyes landed on two figures leaning over a table, scouring intricate designs sketched on stacks of vellum and inspecting shards of a strange alloy that sang to her the closer she drew near.

The first, an ellon holding a fragment of the mysterious metal, was speaking passionately with the entity before him. He ran a hand through his neatly coiffed brown hair, eyes alight with mirth. Celebrimbor, surely. Móriel thought.

But the second, despite recognizing him instantly, made her blood run cold.

His new form was fair, with long golden hair falling gracefully down his back, and gray eyes so uncanny that they wrested the air from her lungs. But where their original owner’s held warmth, these eyes were cold. Calculating in a way that Mairon’s always were, no matter his form.

“My lords,” Mirdania's voice was soft, but assertive, pulling their attention with ease.

“This is Faeleth, our newest apprentice. Faeleth, may I introduce Lord Celebrimbor and Lord Annatar.”

Celebrimbor nodded politely, with an expression brimming with kindness. How this gentle soul could possibly be the scion of Fëanor and the son of Curufin the Crafty, defied all reason to Móriel.

“Well met Faeleth, it is always a pleasure to welcome a new student within our halls.”

“You honor me, my lord,” Móriel replied, bowing her head respectfully.

“From where do you hail? I'm finding your accent difficult to place,” Celebrimbor asked, tilting his head slightly, as if contemplating an intriguing puzzle.

Annatar's eyes narrowed.

Your Sindarin is too harsh, Zahovar.

Móriel cursed herself. Her tongue had grown accustomed to the throaty intonations of Black Speech; she hadn’t even recognized the discrepancy.

“Here and there. I come from a family of merchants who held good favor among the dwarves. Perhaps you hear some lingering Khuzdûl?”

“That must be it, fascinating.” Celebrimbor replied with a snap of his fingers. “You must regale me with what you learned in their company, it is rare for one of our own to be held in high enough favor to learn Khuzdûl.”

“If it pleases, my lord, I would be happy to,” Móriel replied with a demure smile.

“Mirdania,” Annatar interjected softly. “Since it was you who discovered our newest pupil, would you be willing to mentor her?”

“Of course, Lord Annatar,” Mirdania replied with a deep nod.

The forge had gone silent for the night. Embers glowed low within the hearth, and the scent of iron, ash, and oil lingered in the air as Móriel swept a polishing cloth along a long steel triblet.

“You did well today,” Mirdania remarked, fastening the clasp of her green traveling cloak. “Even managed to prepare everyone’s tea without receiving a single complaint, a rare feat.”

“They told me how they take it. That’s hardly worthy of praise.” Móriel replied, rolling her eyes with a subtle smile as she returned the tool with care.

“I’ll have Halrion prepare you a cup sometime, then you just might appreciate the compliment.” Mirdania responded playfully, loud enough to earn a flippant gesture from the smith in question before he stepped outside the heavy doors. “All jokes aside, don't stay up too late, you have an early day ahead,” she added, giving Móriel’s hand a light squeeze.

“I won't,” Móriel replied, hesitantly returning the gesture. “Thank you Mirdania, for everything.”

“Don't thank me yet Faeleth,” the smith winked before releasing Móriel’s hand and walking towards the doors. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Móriel mouthed softly, watching the smith's cloak slip through the doors.

Annatar stood silently near the central anvil, one hand resting on the cool metal. The great hearth's dying glow cloaked him in heavy shadow, lit only by the flickering golden light of the lingering embers. Móriel approached gracefully, untying her leather apron as she watched his sharp eyes assess her; anticipating, calculating, cold.

“His eyes had specks of blue in them, you know. You’ve grown sloppy… Lord Annatar.” She dropped the apron on one of the tables before hoisting herself onto the central anvil, letting her legs dangle idly.

“I could say the same.” he countered, a cold smirk cracking across his comely face.

“Surely my rusty Sindarin isn’t the cause of your ire, what have I done to earn such cruel provocation?” Móriel asked with a scoff, feigning boredom as she inspected her nails, notably refusing to meet his gaze.

“There was a time I could rely on you to carry out clear instructions; infiltrate strongholds, command legions, eliminate threats.” his tone was edged with agitation, fingers flexing at his side. “To think you would try and negotiate with a company of elves, have these long centuries truly dulled your edge?”

“Ah,” Móriel murmured, biting the inside of her mouth.

“Ah, yes.” Annatar mocked, slowly positioning himself between her legs. His hands splayed on either side of her hips, caging her against the anvil.

“And here I thought you would be relieved, what with you and Galadriel having grown so…close.” she replied, leaning back slightly with a knowing smirk.

He responded with a humorless chuckle, eyes narrowing skeptically. “My precious Zahovar, you expect me to believe you allowed Galadriel to live for my benefit? Truth. Now.”

His words felt like a leash, tightening around her throat, urging her to heel.

“I couldn’t- I couldn’t hurt her.” Móriel grumbled in reply, turning away from his unblinking gaze.

Annatar’s hand shot out, firmly grasping her jaw. Slowly, almost tenderly, he brought her back to face him. “Why?”

“The oath I swore. To him.” she confessed, watching his expression shift from anger, to surprise, then to something akin to satisfaction. Annatar’s hand slipped slowly from her jaw, trailing down her throat, until it firmly grasped the back of her neck.

Móriel’s breath hitched as their mouths crashed together like hammers striking red-hot steel. There was nothing gentle in their embrace, only the sparks of yearning burning through them both. Her blouse came undone as Annatar’s fingers gave the collar a sharp tug, causing buttons to fall like metallic raindrops clattering to the floor. Shrugging out of it, she bit his bottom lip, frantically pulling at the fastenings of her trousers. He answered with a low growl against her mouth, tasting his own blood as he helped remove what was left of her clothing.

The metal was cold under her bare skin, but Móriel didn’t mind, it was a pleasurable contrast to the burgeoning heat between them. Sliding her hands along his robes, she hurriedly undid every knot until the heavy fabric fell from his shoulders and pooled at his feet, leaving him bare before her.

Breaking away sharply, Annatar grabbed Móriel by the throat and shoved her back against the anvil. She gasped, arching her back as his grip tightened. Instinctively, her hands grappled his forearm, even as her hips rolled greedily beneath him. The flickering golden light of the dying embers illuminated his lithe form, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. But his eyes, mere imitations of what was lost, remained hidden in the shadows.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Zahovar?” Annatar asked, loosening his grip just enough to allow her to speak.

“Y-yes.” Móriel replied, nodding her head as she continued to writhe against the cold metal, her body begging for touch, for release, for him.

He leaned in close, soft lips and warm breath brushing against her ear. In a deceptively sweet voice, laced with depraved amusement, he whispered:

“Then call me by his name,”

What little breath she had caught, her pulse quickened, and she could feel her heart pound against her chest. To Móriel’s surprise and utter shame, she wasn’t disgusted by the request. Not entirely. Noting her hesitation, Annatar slipped his other hand between her legs and began edging the tips of his fingers against her entrance. Enough to tease, to test her desire, periodically penetrating just a little before quickly withdrawing again. Móriel whined impatiently, biting her lip so hard it drew a trickle of blood. In a futile attempt to control his touch, she rolled her hips against his hand, but he was just out of reach, and it was driving her mad.

“P-please…” she moaned, gray eyes flickering with golden light until they broke through the illusion.

“Please who, Glorineth?” Annatar prompted in a tender voice not his own, before circling her clit with two deft fingers. Móriel quivered under his touch, then finally, as her former term of endearment left his lips, she moaned softly:

“Finrod…”

A look of sinister satisfaction crept across Annatar’s beautiful face. Releasing her throat, his fingers trailed lazily down her body, relishing the shivers elicited in their wake, before grasping the soft flesh of her hip as he thrust himself inside her.

Móriel gasped, her hands frantic to find purchase on the sides of the anvil, as Annatar rutted into her furiously. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t loving. It was twisted, possessive, addicting. His touch was memory made flesh again, echoing darker days when the world was sharper and crueler. Sauron knew how to touch her, not just her body but within her mind as well. How to take her apart and put her back together in the shape he wanted.

Annatar watched her come undone beneath him with something unreadable in his gaze. Triumph, perhaps. Or something worse. Still trembling from her climax, Móriel drew herself up, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His thrusts were becoming erratic, and she could feel the tremor of his growls against her neck as he bit into her throat. A muffled moan escaped him as she curled her legs around his hips, her entire body flush against his as he shuddered inside her.

Withdrawing with almost mechanical precision, Annatar ran his fingers along her jaw before his soft lips met hers in a deceptively tender kiss.

“Consider this a warning, out of my…affection for you, Zahovar,” he purred, hovering close enough for their noses to touch. “Should you defy me again, oath or no, I will do far worse than haunt you with long dead ghosts.”

Móriel remained sitting on the anvil as the last ember in the hearth died, leaving her in the dark with nothing but the lingering cold and ancient memories. Memories of a time when she had been shown a different path, and yet, chose this one all the same.

#the rings of power #trop fanfiction #trop #sauron x oc #adar x oc #daughter of morgoth #sauron #annatar #fem oc #smut #mirdania #celebrinbor #toxic relationship

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valar-did-me-wrong · 7 months ago

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One list to rule them all! ✨

My ROP Memes ☼

funny stuff

My other Tolkien memes ☁︎

thoughts & rants

Connections ⭒

fic recs.

Adar Fanart recs ֶָ֢

Web weaves / Quote posts 𔓘

asks discussed

Melkor's Nude Statue /Sauron Statue Smut 𓁿

Desi Tolkien stuff

Instagram 🫶🏽 Reddit

Meme backgrounds: cap-that.com Header: Animated Text Generator Pfp: A Lady Holding a Fan, by Raja Ravi Varma

#blog stuff #trop #links #adar #masterlist #tolkien #the rings of power #trying to tidy up my blog before i become sparse on the internet for a while #hopefully by june-july my exams will be over & I'd have scored enough to not spiral into panic #manifesting a paraclinical branch (pathology my beloved)🤞🏽 lets see how it goes 🤞🏽

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elronds-library · 25 days ago

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my offering of worship

by tigress11 (@erulasse23)

Part 1 of Sauron Statue Smut

“The statue, although a pale imitation of his lord’s true beauty, pulled him in like a magnet.” *** Sauron commissions a statue of Morgoth for the Númenor temple, to aid in his worship.

Explicit, No Archive Warnings

Words: 1,323

#silmarillion #angbang #sauron #melkor #crack fic #plot what plot #canon compliant #second age

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makeshiftdraco · 2 years ago

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Riptide

Haladriel fic by makeshiftdraco

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: The Rings of Power/Lord of the Rings

Pairing: Galadriel/Halbrand|Sauron

Status: Complete

Description:

Galadriel is haunted by strange dreams as she continues her relentless pursuit of the enemy, dreams that only become more unsettling once she crosses paths with her unlikely companion, Halbrand.

Is this strange man the friend she needs or perhaps something more? The two of them must grapple with their dangerous desire for each other, even as their contradicting plans for the future put them at odds.

(Check tags on AO3 for trigger warnings)

This was my first foray into this ship and my first LOTR/ROP fic in general. Tolkien would probably be disappointed in me for writing Sauron smut...but the heart wants what it wants.

#saurondriel #haladriel #ao3 #fanfic #lord of the rings #rings of power #haladriel fic #sauron #galadriel #galadriel x sauron #smut #numenor #halbrand

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betareaderwanted · 6 years ago

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Looking for LOTR Beta

Fandom: LOTR, The Hobbit (film)

Ship: Legolas/Gimli (main), Aragorn/Arwen, Tauriel/Kili

Rating: E

Warnings: some smut but story is not at all sex-centric

Type of beta reading: organization (help me find plot holes!)

How to contact: email [email protected]

Status: in progress, not posted but want to post soon

Additional information: modern, college setting AU, Legolas-centric, coming out, father/son relationship, activism

Summary: After twelve successful years at Imladris Academy, Legolas never expected to end up at Dale City College. To his father's chagrin, Legolas finds his place not only in the environmental activism scene but in the diverse Fellowship for a Clean Earth (FACE), where he learns that the Sauron Corporation is responsible for more than just inspiring fear from his typically stoic father. With the members of FACE, Legolas strives to find proof that the Sauron Corporation is doing more than bringing jobs to Middle County -- that their true aim is much darker. But as he finds the strength to face an evil corporation, will he also find the strength to be true to his heart and face his father's prejudice?

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ao3feed-tolkien · 2 years ago

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The Nicest Parts of Hell

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/jmR3nyo

by MyrsineMezzo

Galadriel can't seem to stop sleeping with her brother's asshole boyfriend.

“Well that was…interesting.”

She gives a disparaging snort as she pulls her underwear and shorts back up before walking towards the bathroom to clean herself up. “That’s one way to put it. Now we never speak of it again.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” Halbrand's laugh is mocking from behind her. “Status can remain quo. That’s fine by me.” He eyes her when she returns to the living room and gives her that trademark smirk that drives her up the wall. “You should go. Last thing we need is Finrod finding you still here.”

Words: 3477, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Galadriel | Artanis, Halbrand (The Rings of Power), Sauron | Mairon, Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Celeborn (Tolkien)

Relationships: Galadriel | Artanis/Halbrand (The Rings of Power), Celeborn/Galadriel | Artanis/Sauron | Mairon, Finrod Felagund/Halbrand

Additional Tags: Shameless Smut, Affairs, Infidelity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Sex positive but morally questionable, Recreational Drug Use, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, some depraved tags to come probably, mean man fic, so much hate sex

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/jmR3nyo

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

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valar-did-me-wrong · 27 days ago

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Headcanon added 😌👌🏽

The real reason Sauron lost his fair form after the fall of Numenor was because he couldn’t save Melkor’s Nude Statue. That Ulmo became in possession of it was what finally tipped him over the edge.

#sauron statue smut #Melkor's nude statue #it was insult added to injury #some people wear black to mourn #Sauron sheds his fair form #he couldn’t manifest as pretty anymore because his life was so ugly #<< perfection outside Valinor #Sauron #Melkor #trop crack

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loyalservants · 8 years ago

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Law

Laws must be clear, precise, and uniform for all citizens.

-Marquis de Lafayette

General

This is a roleplay blog for Female!Lafayette from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s musical and Female!Sauron from JRR Tolkien’s Legendarium.

This blog is independent, selective and private.

This blog is established on March 2017, redid on July 2017. Formerly known as dcvoue None of the GIFS or Icons are mine (I am far too lazy). As I said above, I am selective. Please do not take it personally if I choose not to roleplay with you. If I do follow you, a reminder is necessary: This is a sideblog, my main blog is: amlugnis I am tracking #loyalservents

I also accept AUs but crossovers only happen if I am familiar with one’s fandom. I do multiple threads with others but it should have limitations since I got other roleplay partners to reply to. And if you roleplay a Lafayette, too, don’t worry! I love to roleplay with my character’s duplicates, I just need to discuss things with the mun first regarding their relationship.

You can remind me about our threads but do not force me to reply as it will only cause me to drop our threads. I require respect and patience when you roleplay with me as I can be extremely slow.

Please, please, PLEASE specify which muse you want to send a meme to, I do not read minds nor do I like guessing games.

Writing

I write semi-paragraphs but multi-paragraphs and novella are my most preferred methods. I use British English in my roleplay but American English would be seen as well. My formatting is in smaller texts and icons will be inserted somewhere in the response (unless my partner does not use any). For Mairon, her dialogues are written in (an attempted) iambic pentameter.

It’s fine if you do not match my length but please reply more than just a one liner and something for me to work with. I value the content of the reply rather than the formatting in your reply. If there is anything that makes me drop a thread, it is constant reminder to reply to your thread.

Anxiety is triggered when you keep silent for a while. If you drop a thread, tell me. I never hold a grudge and I respect everyone and I understand people do not always have a muse for some plot or muse.

Triggers

Please tag violence and please refrain from using brutal icons, the mun is hemophobic. I dislike incest (the closest is between cousins when I roleplay Lafayette) as well as beastiality, animal abuse and suicide. Other dark themes will be tagged in every thread I post.

I am not interested to write smut. Please do not force me to write it with you. I’m just not comfortable with it.

Muses

I have two mains that mostly appear in this blog. They’re the only ones with different verses (although I may make exceptions because I’m a little shit with no self-control).

Female!Lafayette, based off the musical, ‘Hamilton: An American Muiscal’ by Lin Manuel Miranda with a hint of historical influences.

Female!Sauron, based off the books written by JRR Tolkien.

The following three are picky muses to write.

Heather Chandler, based off the movie and musical 'Heathers’.

Jim Moriarty, based off the BBC series 'Sherlock’.

Lady Macbeth, based off the play 'Macbeth’ by William Shakespeare.

Ships

Chemistry is required when shipping with me. I literally ship everything within the Hamilton fandom. From Washette to Mullette to Lafferson to even Lafayette x Burr which I never knew the ship name of, et cetera. If you roleplay Adrienne, kindly come into my IM and let us discuss about our precious babus.

This does not mean I would neglect platonic, friendly and even rivalry shippings, I love these! SO SHOVE THEM DOWN MY THROAT!

By default, I will place an undefined marital status tag in roleplays with Lafayette unless we/I established Marie’s status, whether or not she is married. It helps if you decide to tell me.

Portrayal

Lafayette is heavily influenced by the musical, not historically but there will be a little bit of those bits. She is genderbent, therefore I will putting a lot of headcanons on her. Lafayette is referred to as 'Marie’ from Gilbert’s title (because I avoid changing names when genderbending). Sometimes it depends how Marie joined the revolution but I remain standing by her being persuasive and intelligent enough to join the revolutions. I am not exactly familiar with this part of history, I never really studied about Lafayette.

I also gave Marie two faceclaims: Yaya Dacosta & Liza Soberano (Liza is only used when my rp partner and I agree as I am aware not many are fond of this faceclaim).

Mairon is genderbent, yes, but she preferred being called ‘Lord’ or 'King’. She believes 'Queen’ and 'Lady’ are feeble titles. So she would probably be very much offended if you call her those. She is also a Maia– one of the strongest, probably, so it’s only natural Mairon might be overpowering (unless you’re Vala then… rip).

Mairon’s faceclaim is Natalie Dormer.

In short, they’re canon divergent.

While Heather Chandler is based off the musical and the movie, Jim Moriarty is based on the TV series and Lady Macbeth is based off the play.

Mun

The name is Panther, a she/her, demisexual panromantic, I am studying. I am passionate about theatre, literature and music. I write stories, proses and poetry. I come from the Philippines but I currently live in Brunei (i know you had to Google that, don’t fucking lie)

#rules

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