#Halbrand imagine

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine disliking the idea of Annatar (Sauron) aiding you in ring-making…

“Annatar is here to aid in the development of the rings.”

“Aid?” You frowned at your dear friend Celebrimbor. “This forge is exemplary. As are the elves who have perfected the craft.”

Annatar stepped forward. “True perfection lies in Valinor.” He said.

Your stare was cold and harsh towards strange elf who seemed to radiate from the heat of the forge. “Had I wanted to hear the words of Master Cirdan I would have ventured to the Grey Havens, Lord of Gifts. Truly, have you no original voice?”

Annatar said nothing. He merely smiled with the faintest twinkle in his eye. Celebrimbor, however, was struck with surprise at your tone of mockery.

“I do hope your manners return. Annatar is a guest in my realm and so he shall be yours.” He reprimanded. “Can I trust you to make temporary peace?”

Pulling away from the impossibly bright eyes of Annatar, you looked upon your friend.

“Of course, on the condition that the Lord of Gifts does not interfere with my work.”

“And what of collaboration?” Annatar finally asked. “All great works come about with harmonious hands.”

Grabbing your small hammer, you pointed it at the elf. “You will be collaborating from within the forge flames if you get in my way.” You snapped and then stormed off to another part of the large space.

Once out of earshot, Celebrimbor sighed. “My apologies. They have never been one to share with the unfamiliar.”

Annatar smiled, ever the face of calm. “I have no doubt that they will change their mind.”

~ More imagines here ~

[samblackblog]

Mind Games [Halbrand/Sauron x Reader]

⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔ LOTR/TROP ⎔

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: mentions of blood, death, upsetting themes of stockholm syndrome, abuse, war

A/N: First attempt at a little bit of Halbrand/Sauron, might extend it past the one off. I'm never good at remembering all the warnings, so let me know if there's some I've missed that you feel would be on it.

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Shock spreads through you like poison, choking off the oxygen to your body as you stare into the all too familiar face of the man you’d loved, the face of dignity and grace, or so it had been until that fateful day. How different life might have been if she hadn’t told you, if he’d gotten to you first and spun his web of lies. If you were half as brave then as you are now, you would have put an end to him before he had time to hatch his plans. Love had made you weak and mercy had spared him. 

You hadn’t expected him to look like this, so unchanged. How could it be that the dark Lord looked so ordinary and innocent? Where was the evil being from the stories you’d been told, twisted and corrupted, tormented and who’s very being reeked of cruelty and malice. Surely this cannot be him. Galadriel was wrong. How can this man, who you’d let beneath your walls and who you’d trusted to love in the dark of the night, be the evil that everyone feared? He is no man. He’s been Mairon, Gorthaur the cruel, Halbrand and now Sauron the Deceiver. He’s never been a man. 

Your senses flood back as the memories subside. This would be the only chance you get. Here you are, two knees in the dirt, and here he is, at the helm of an army. The opportunity was too great. You kick out at the Orcs that have you restrained managing to free an arm and pull a dagger free. With one swift motion you slice through the throat of one, black blood oozing from the wound. You shove the body towards the second Orc, sending them both to the ground. The ruckus draws attention, you have but a few seconds to complete your mission. Turning you spy your target once again his full attention on you. His demeanour has changed, a smirk envelopes his features, beckoning you to carry on as your legs take you towards him. 

Pain shoots through your thigh causing you to stumble and fall to the floor. The impact jolts through your bones followed by more pain which splinters through your chest. Just in time you flip onto your back and instinctively thrust the dagger, you still clutch onto, upwards. It makes contact with the soft underbelly of an Orc who squeals as you withdraw the blade and thrust it up a second then third time. Blood gushes down, soaking you, as you lay in the dirt and watch as the body falls next to you. Patiently you wait a few seconds for the next assault, staring up at the dark clouds that are littered with traces of red, but it doesn’t come. 

Warmth tingles against your chest, oddly comforting until you taste that copper tang in your mouth. A cough rips through your throat as you try to suck air in, splatters of something wet hitting your lips. Despite the pain you force yourself to roll onto your front and catch a glimpse of the arrow that penetrates the flesh of your thigh. The head snaps off as you come into contact with the hard compact earth beneath you. For a second you lie there, face against the dirt, clouds of dust flying as your laboured breath forces its way out. A warm trickle seeps from the corner of your lips, lips which had once been full of colour and plump. They’d been one of his favourite features about you, or so you’d guessed after he struggled to stop kissing them for more than a few minutes at a time when alone with you. You smile as you remember the gentle touch of his mouth against yours, how it always started off innocent until you both felt the urgency in your desires. It was moments like that which would make your heart pound as if trying to escape, but now it pounds as you cling desperately onto the life you’d so passionately fought for. 

A groan escapes as you push up onto your knees and sit on your haunches, blood pooling from the thigh. All the while your eyes dart around as the enemy gathers, your fingers flexing around the handle of the dagger, reassured by the solidity of it in your fist. They stand, circling you, grim faced and shouting war cries in their dark speech. Nothing about the situation struck you as funny but despite this, a hysterical giggle claws its way out in a horrid gurgle as blood bubbles from your mouth. Your free hand shoots to your chest where you’d previously felt pain and your chin sinks forcing your head down. How easy it would be to give up now, to let your eyes shut and allow yourself to slip away. Giving up has never been in your nature. 

You spit a mouthful of blood to the floor, the colour a bright vibrant maroon against the pale brown of the dirt. Yours wasn’t the first to be spilled here nor would it be the last if you didn’t succeed. With renewed determination you force your gaze upwards and wipe your mouth on the back of your hand as your eyes make contact with his. Any warmth that they once contained is gone, replaced by intrigued. He holds his arms outstretched, signalling for his Orcs to stay back as he steps inside the ring. His gaze never falters, not once, as he strides over and towers above your kneeling form. 

“This is all I ever wanted,” he says, only loud enough for your ears “For you to kneel before me.”

You grimace at the sound of his voice, smooth and sweet, remembering how it has once sent shivers down your spine but now repulses you. Glaring up through your lashes you watch as he extends an arm down towards you, his eyes carrying the familiar emotion of days long gone. Is it possible he did care for you? Perhaps your love wasn’t a lie, but it certainly was poison. You watch his eyes grow cold again as a bloody smile pulls at your lips. Mustering the last of your strength you push to your feet ignoring his hand, hiding the pain to the best of your abilities. 

He cocks his head to the side and smiles in return. “A strong Queen you’ll make.” He turns his back on you. NOW. The voice inside screams. Won’t be another chance. Despite loving him, you had a tendency to be angered by him. He always knew which buttons to push and how to elicit a response. 

“I don’t kneel to anyone” you raise your chin higher “Especially not to you…” he turns in an instant, eyes full of anger equal to yours “...Sauron the Deceiver.” 

“You don’t know what you speak of.” Is that hurt you hear lacing his words? Eagerly you watch his hand travel to the hilt of his sword, desperately wanting him to initiate. Anything to make this easier for you. 

“I’ve not fallen to your lies previously.” You push at the threshold of his tolerance forcing him to shoot you a warning look as you take a step towards him. 

“All I ever wanted was to do good with you by my side.” He explains trying to get inside your mind. His fingers now grip the hilt so tight that the knuckles turn white. You both know time is running out. “Join me” he instructs, silently pleading with his eyes. 

“I will not succumb now.” You whisper, afraid your own words were a lie. Before having a chance to rethink you close the distance to him, not once thinking how odd it is he doesn’t move or draw his sword. His hands grasp yours as you slide the knife under the bottom rib and thrust up, not once does he try to stop you. He just holds your hands in his, savouring the last touch. It hurts but you force yourself to look into his eyes so you can say farewell to the monster who has tormented you for so long, but all you see is Halbrand. He stares back with sadness, reflecting back the image of his killer. 

“She is the monster who can kill her love.” He whispers to you, shock evident on his voice. You feel his grip on your hands tighten, as his knees buckle, using you for support. Instantly you regret what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter that you’re slowly dying; drowning in your own blood. Your heart hammers for another reason now, causing tears to swell in your eyes. Pulling your blade free of his body causes him to gasp, his head sinking down to your chest. The blade falls to the floor, his blood covering your hands. 

“Halbrand?” you whisper, almost choking on the name as the tears spill over. You crouch as he falls to his knees, a hand on his back to help him lay down. You hold his hands in yours, they feel much colder now. “No.” You cry, applying pressure to the wound you inflicted. This brings a smile to his pale lips. 

“At least I know…” he struggles to breathe “...how you truly feel.” 

A sob escapes you at his words. Why did this have to be the way? You bring your head down to his, tears falling onto his cheeks and plant a soft kiss upon his lips, leaving behind a trail of your own blood; a reminder of your own end. Comforted by the thought you’d join him after, you resign and lay your head upon his chest. You cling to one of his hands as his other finds its way to your head. Even in his final moments he cares more to comfort you than himself. Gently stroking your once shiny dark locks that are now blood spattered and crusted with mud. You listen to his wheezing breaths as his chest tries to inflate. 

“All I ever wanted,” he coughs. You don’t look but you know that blood is pouring out of his mouth by the sound of his voice struggling to break through. You rub your thumb over the back of his hand. “All I ever wanted…” he repeats, the end closing in on him “eternity with you, in a prosperous world…” he sucks air in through his gritted teeth, a sloshing sound coming from his chest beneath you. Desperately you fight your mind, trying to think of comforting words but instead the tears come on stronger so you remain silent as images of the two of you together are conjured. You torture yourself thinking maybe being his Queen wouldn’t have been as bad as you thought. Perhaps you could have reigned him in and curved his darkest impulses, together creating something beautiful. After all, good and evil cannot survive one without the other. You must have shared the same thought for he voiced what you were thinking. “Perhaps if the cards were dealt differently,” he gasps, fighting for breath “We might… if we created…” His chest starts to feel rock solid beneath you and the blood rushes from the wound by your head “I’d have liked a son.” 

His words stung. Moments before the idea of what he suggested would have repulsed you, a life with Sauron… never. But this is Halbrand, he’s real and still here underneath all the lies. Once upon a time you’d imagined your life together when he was a simple peasant and once more when he was the supposed King of the Southlands, in all of that you had not once considered a child. Now you can see all that has been stolen from you and it brings nothing but pain. You no longer conceal the tears that rip through you in body shaking quakes. You stay like this until you feel his chest steady and no breaths follow. Weakly you lift your head to look into the eyes of the man you love. The man you killed. 

You cry out while clinging to his body. You can’t see for all the tears that blur your vision but it doesn’t stop you screaming insults at the sky, hoping someone up there can hear your pain and feel the injustice that has been served to you on this day. All your words dry up as you return your gaze to the lifeless body in front of you, only eerie croaks can be heard as you struggle to breath as panic sets in. You hunch over the body, hands in your lap, feeling forsaken in this land. You wait for your own end, whether by your wounds or the Orcs but neither happen. You glance around to find it’s just the two of you.

“Please…” you beg, not fully knowing who you’re asking. You start rocking back and forth on your knees, holding your head in your bloody hands. His blood. Hysterical screams resonate from you as you hunch into a ball, driven mad by the situation. 

You barely hear it over your own noise but it makes you clench your eyes tightly shut. “It can’t be” you whisper while still rocking, bloody spittal falling from your mouth. “Go away!” You scream as you hear it again; a deep chuckle. “I’m going mad, I’m going mad,” you whisper over and over to yourself like a mantra. “You can’t be real…” you start crying again “...I killed you… please, leave me alone…” you sob. It’s almost heartbreaking to watch. You screw your eyes even tighter shut, if that's even at all possible, they start to ache with the force you use on them. 

“Open your eyes.” His voice is soft and enticing, but you’re sure it's a trick nonetheless. It can’t be real. “It’s okay, you can open them now.” he repeats, hoping this time you do as he says, but you’re always so obstinate and after all this time his patience wears thin. 

“Look at me!” he roars, causing you to flinch which sends you backwards onto your butt. As you do so your eyes fly open. You’re met with a dark dank stone cell. Iron bars close you in on three sides cutting you off from the rest of the room. The floor is freezing cold as you lay there adjusting to the new surroundings. 

“Are you going to do everything but look at me?” he chuckles again from behind you. “Surely I’ve not broken you, not after all this time?” His joy at the prospect was thick and heavy.

Slowly you turn your head and sit up. There’s a small candle on the opposite side of the bars that gives out little light, enough to show a figure propped against the far wall. Fear paralyses you at the realisation of what’s happening, he really is a master of deception. Footsteps echo and bounce off the stone as he approaches the bars of your cage. Tears start to fall upon your cheeks again as he crouches, bringing himself to your eye level. 

“How the mighty have fallen.” He teases as he eyes you with pity, not enjoying the sight before him. “Still, we’re here now.” He claps his hands together causing you to flinch.

“Please” you try to beg but it comes out a choked mumble as you pull your body into a huddled form. You bring your head to your knees trying to remember how you got here. The last thing you remember was killing him, but that can’t have happened not if he’s here. The jingle of metal brings your attention back to him as he pulls a skeleton key from a bunch hanging off his belt. He stands, eyes not straying from you once as he unlocks the gate to the cell. The metal clanks as the key turns, allowing him to pull the door open with a creak. Gingerly you stand, before backing up to the stone wall of the cell, expecting something bad. He knows it will take time for him to regain your trust but he’s just happy you’re no longer fighting him every step of the way. 

He places one foot inside your cell with hands raised and you try to put more distance between the two of you but trip as your foot is pulled back by a chain. Your head smacks down on the stone floor, blood oozes instantly from the graze on your forehead. Not caring about your injury you turn to him as he moves faster towards you. 

“Stay away” you yell, “No, stay away from me!” You kick out so he stops in his tracks and retreats until he’s back at the door.  

He lets out an exasperated sigh, “I thought we’d overcome this.” He turns to walk through the door but stops when you stand once more. 

“I know what you’re doing, it won’t work.” you spit through gritted teeth. With another sigh he closes the door and returns the key to his belt. His hand linger on the iron bars for a moment as he stares at you, mulling over the options. How long has it now been? He’d lost count and has begun to give up any hope of it ever working. He gives the bar a final grip before walking towards the exit, not giving you another look. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” he shouts as he wonders how many times he has to subject you to pain before you fold. How much more can he endure? His form disappears down a dark corridor but you can still hear his footfalls as they fade. 

You race towards the bars of your prison, falling short as the chains restrict your movement. Panic erupts inside at the thought of being left alone here, before it's swept aside by confusement. You watched him die. You killed him. But I didn’t. You’re somewhat relieved he’s alive. The guilt and pain you’d felt washing away, only to be replaced with anger as you realised he’d been in your head. It all comes rushing back. How many days have you been here? You’d lost count, but far too many. Day after day you live out his scenarios in your head and everyday you fail to submit to him. This brings a wicked smile to your dry cracked lips.

“Stay out of my head!” you yell after him as you hear the last of his footfalls fade from range. “I will not succumb to you...” you scream louder to ensure he hears “...Sauron!” you add the name you know he hates you using for added measure so he knows how strong your will still is.

[little-diable]

Darkness - Halbrand (smut)

As promised, I finally got to sit down and write a Halbrand drabble. Please reblog and like if you enjoyed reading this. I'd appreciate it. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Halbrand catches the reader admiring the stars, and while the ship sails ahead to Middle Earth, he makes her feel things no Human nor Sindarin words could ever describe.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, somewhat public sex

Pairing: Halbrand x Elf!fem!reader

The stars were twinkling in the sky, blinking one by one as if they were telling a story - each waiting for their turn. She couldn’t draw her eyes away from them, and had never been able to stop admiring the finest and rawest beauty this world could offer her. 

“What do you see? Up there, I mean.” His voice ripped her out of her thoughts, forcing her eyes away from the sky. Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes met his, momentarily losing her trail of thought. 

From the moment their paths had crossed on that forsaken raft, he had made her feel like this. A feeling no human nor Sindarin words could manage to describe. 

“Secrets. Long forgotten stories of the ones whose names we no longer remember.” Halbrand took a step closer, and another, till he came to rest next to her, hands placed on the wooden railing of the ship, right next to hers. With her teeth biting the inside of her cheek, (y/n) forced herself to stare ahead, not wanting to lose herself in his closeness. 

“If being on that raft for endless nights taught me one thing, it was to admire what I’ve never allowed myself to admire before.” Her breath hitched in her chest as he slowly placed his hand on top of hers, interlacing their fingers. Perhaps she should have pushed him away. Perhaps she should have chased the distance he was currently minimising. And yet she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“Do you fear the days ahead?” It took Halbrand a moment to reply, he turned his body towards hers, fingers still interlaced as his other hand found her cheek. He studied her features, held the same expression she had when she had admired the sky above. Heat rushed through her body like the river flowing through Valinor, taking over every part of her body. 

“I don’t fear much, the only thing I fear is the uneasiness lying ahead.” Halbrand squeezed her hand, distracting her from his words. With his eyes flickering down to her lips, he pulled her closer, not sparing any attention to the closeby soldiers. Stuck in a trance neither of them had ever felt before, she felt his breath teasing her lips, wanting to draw her in.

An impatient huff rumbled through her, hoping that he’d give in and finally press his lips against hers, wanting to chase the contact mere humans would describe with the most loving words imaginable. With a chuckle clawing through him, Halbrand kissed her, lips perfectly moulding against hers.

(Y/n)’s body worked on its own, arms finding their way around his neck, pulling the smirking man even closer. His hands were no longer searching hers, though placed on her waist to keep her in place, not daring to let go of (y/n). Both had a hard time breathing, hearts racing too fast for their bodies to catch up with, urged on by the carnal desire to feel and experience more than this. 

With a sigh he pulled away from her, staring at her for a few seconds before he started to pull her along. No further words were spoken as Halbrand guided (y/n) down to the bottom of the ship, having a place in mind that could offer some kind of privacy to the two. Halbrand took in his surroundings before he pushed her into the small cabin, lips searching hers once again. 

They were engulfed by darkness, though a darkness so comforting, (y/n) didn’t spare any thoughts on the dangers lingering in this very cabin. Halbrand’s calloused fingers did quick work of her uniform, helping her out of the metal, exposing her body with every piece finding its way to the ground. (Y/n)’s fingers did work of their own, desperate to feel his warm skin beneath her fingers. 

She found herself pressed against the nearest wall as the last piece of clothing was torn off her body, leaving Halbrand to explore the skin he couldn’t see in the dark. One of her hands trailed down his upper body, tracing the carefully chiselled muscles - one by one - before she reached her destination. 

“Fuck,” Halbrand moaned against her lips, eyes fluttering close to relish in the unfamiliar touch. She pumped him slow at first, not wanting to rush the moment, and yet (y/n) couldn’t help but hope to hear his voice again. But before his vocal cords could produce yet another sound, he pulled her hand off his cock. 

Without another warning, Halbrand pulled one of her legs around his waist, hand disappearing between her thighs. She was dripping for him, desperate to feel him buried inside of her like she had dreamt of him doing for days on end now. Her head fell against his shoulder, muffling the sound of her moans.

“Shh, gotta be quiet, we don’t want to wake the others, do we?” A spurt of adrenaline shot through her, head slowly shaking from left to right. His fingers circled her clit, adding more pressure to his touch as Halbrand kept on teasing her, dragging out the moment. Whimpers, moans and silent beggings rolled off her tongue, hoping that he’d give in and fuck her, giving the two what they’ve been desperate for. 

And as if he no longer could hold back, Halbrand let go of her for a moment, only to align himself with her heat. He pulled her in for a searing kiss, distracting her from the feeling of his cock slowly sinking into her tightness. Their moans were swallowed by their close contact, hearts singing a tune of lust and adoration, hoping that the moment would never pass. 

A devilish grin tugged on Halbrand’s lips, she pulsed around him, moans growing louder with every ferocious thrust. He fucked her against the wall, leaving his marks, claiming her as his. And she loved every second of it, not daring to think about the ones lying nearby. 

“God,” Halbrand groaned, eyes squeezed shut as he tightened his grip on her leg, nails leaving marks behind on her skin. “We should have done this much sooner.” 

(Y/n) couldn’t reply, too focused on her arising high, hand disappearing between their bodies to circle her clit, pushing her further towards the edge. Her walls fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him even closer, begging him to pick up the pace of his thrusts. Their moans bled together, forming a moment so raw, so intimate, neither Halbrand or (y/n) ever experienced before.  

“Cum for me, love.” With a deep breath sucked into her aching lungs, (y/n) came on his cock. He had to cover her mouth with his hand, drowning out her moans. And with one last thrust, Halbrand followed her down the edge, imprinting himself on her walls, heat thumping through her system. 

“I got you, hold on.” Sweet nothings were murmured as he pulled out of her, keeping her close to stabilise her trembling frame. And as they were standing there, engulfed by darkness, they were sure that they were admiring something far more beautiful than the twinkling stars.

Please like and reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading this, come talk to me about my writing, let’s spill some tea or thirst over our favorite people. xxx

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[ivfrankenstein]

got power over me; 

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Halbrand/Sauron x fem!reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:

“It's not an enviable fate they've given you. There’s s no mercy in tying you to me.” “It was you, not them, who did the tying. Wasn't it you who named me that precious word — lover? Aren't we bound by the same ties?”

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: maia!reader, angst/fluff here, guess it’s star-crossed lovers trope 𝐚/𝐧: seren — star [in welsh]. gif: @ladyhawke​; eng not my 1st language, so be merciful for mistakes, my stars 🫶🏻

𝕹𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖁𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖗 understood the purposes of the One so clearly as Manwë. With Manwë dwelt Varda, Lady of the Stars, and the light of Iluvatar still lived in her face. Melkor feared her more than all others whom Eru made. Back in the days when Melkor's misdeeds began, an idea was sent to Varda to summon a spirit she had created earlier from the Light of the Stars, capable of bringing back those of the good powers who had been seduced by Melkor's darkness.

That light of the combined creation of Manwë and Varda was to reveal the true path to those of Morgoth's devotees who were still capable of seeing it and hesitating.

By the time Serena was descended upon Arda, the Great Enemy had fallen, but his strongest and most loyal servant was still wandering among the living, bringing himself into voluntary exile. Only one and only once did he fall into the despair that led to his repentance. He was called by many names by those who suffered at his hand, but Sauron was his last. 

In those relatively early years of Y/N's life, a name Serena bore in Middle–earth, she lived by instinct rather than orders from above, the way she was able to. Left alone to face all the new things, Y/N was just at the stage of exploring the world that was to become her home for centuries when, along with the rest, she faced Mairon. Which is why, when the two met, it was more of an accident than a successful hunt. But that’s a different story from this one.

That one was about how it's not hard to stop a dagger when it's already so close to someone else's chest, and also how it's not hard to be penetrated by another. This story, on the other hand, is about what you have to deal with when trust isn’t your strong suit after all. 

“Even if it was me who did the tying, I won't let it be used against me.” 

Many days in this wilderness and in this hut overgrown with moss on the outside. No longer than usual, in fact. But apparently too little space, and in its absence, too palpable is the addiction into which he has driven himself and not even noticed. 

“Used? W-what do you think it is? The nets I cast to catch you?” 

Y/N always deftly handled his temperament — not fervent, but at times so chilling that it scorches better than any fire. But this time Halbrand noticed how her lower lip trembled slightly. He didn't care if it was caused by the anger he'd driven her to, or by resentment. All he wanted was to push her to the level of vulnerability to which he himself had reached, so it would be fair.  

“It could become them,” dense shadows ran across his face, dispersed by the warm light of the candles, as he stepped back to curtain the small window. “Have you forgotten what you were created for in the first place?” he looked at Y/N half-turned, just enough to see her reaction, but not enough for her to see his.

Such a typical move of his. Which, in context, is a silent acknowledgement that Sauron is almost defeated, and it touches those deep strings of Y/N's heart that make her cheeks blush. It was obvious that she shared this defeat with him, though to his eyes it remained hidden. 

“You don't think they're proud of what you've accomplished in this, do you?” he taunted Y/N on purpose, outwardly mocking the way she had missed, failed, and fallen, keeping quiet that it was actually him who did all of this. With an impenetrable grin on his face, Halbrand feared that Y\N would seriously back down, obey his deceptive speeches or voice of reason, or anything else that would raise doubts in her faith in him. 

He was seeking devotion, and that devotion was a treasure she would not give him so easily.

“Take off your cynical mask when it's me you're talking to.” Y/N said sternly and rose from her seat, “You wanted me to call you Halbrand,” she took a step toward him, keeping his provocative gaze on her, “so deign not to treat me as if it were Melkor's right hand that appeared before me.” 

“But it is.” Halbrand was gloomy, like an enraged sky before the onset of a rainstorm, and it was almost like he physically exhaled the flames he was diligently extinguishing somewhere in the depths. 

Yet, Y/N kept walking forward, “No, not anymore,” her palm reached his chest and he shuddered, “You were created like Mairon, and there wasn't a single trace on you of what torments you now,” she could feel how his heart pounded out of his ribcage through the thin fabric of his tunic, “The traces will go away if you let them.” She stared at the throbbing vein on Halbrand's neck for a long moment, then looked up at him, “Is it possible for you to let them?” 

Her lips were in such a pleasant, pampering closeness and it made him so angry. It was a desire... something, in this mortal form, that Halbrand had to get used to for quite a while. He ran his hand across Y/N cheekbone the way it was the blade of a knife, not his finger. 

“If all this turns out to be the intention they put in you, my Serena, just to punish me..” he grabbed her neat face, “It'd better not be, because I'm going to be dead pissed.” 

Y\N only laughed at it, “You should know me better than that.” she found his hand, only briefly averting her gaze from his eyes fixed on her, and wove their fingers together, “But instead, you choose to be blind.” 

Whether it was the sweetness inherent in a woman's nature or the the prodding effect of Maiar, Halbrand, yet, wanted to believe that this was how love was functioning. He had only basic notions of this curse, but even that was enough for him to classify himself as one of these poor doomed men as well. This weakness, seeping into him like poison, urged him to give in, to give more than he had, to the one he had chosen (or not chosen), but wanted to keep near him either way. 

He was holding Y/N by the chin when, for the first time, the crystals of tears gathered at the border of her fluttering lashes became obvious to him. Her soul languished in oppressive anticipation for at least a word, his word, to be spoken. 

“I will spend entire years needing you if you ever abandon me.” he said in a low voice, “Will your love be enough not to condemn me to such a fate?” 

Y\N gently moved her palm to Halbrand's neck, and softly drew him to her until their foreheads touched. To her relief, he followed easily. “I don't know what our fate is, Hal,” his breath was warm on her, and it reminded her that this was reality, a peaceful one, not that which she was accustomed to in all her chilling visions, “Is yours enough to keep us both from getting there?”

[sarcastic-halfling-princess]

Suspicious Minds - Halbrand (AU) x Reader x Aragorn - Chapter I

Pairing: Halbrand (AU) x Female Ranger!Reader x Aragorn

summary: In an alternative universe, Halbrand was never Sauron. He was the secondborn son of Arathorn II and Gilgraen. Unborn by the time of his father's death his mother, along with a two-year old Aragorn, flees to Rivendell. This fic means to explore both a love-triangle scenario between the two brothers, as well as their relationship and how this would affect Aragorn's character. Basically this is a very self-indulgent fanfic so bear with me.

Word count: 978

Warnings: Sexy, sexy Halbrand. other than that, none yet.

A/N: This fic is written from a third-person perspective but will shift POV's throughout. I'll label the chapters accordingly. I do not like using the ''y/n'' thing so while it is an ''X reader'' fic, I will not be calling our nameless gurl anything nor will i indicate any eye or hair color.

Next chapter

Chapter I - Halbrand

‘You wish for your brother to fail?’

Halbrand gave pause; turning to meet the inquisitive eyes of the woman having entered his study. The woman whose very eyes made his knees weak and chest tighten. The very woman whom had captured his heart.  

Her sharp question registered only a little bit later and he cleared his throat. Placing down the feathered quill he sat back in his seat. ‘Why would you ask me such a thing?’ he attempted to deflect; ‘surely you do not think-’

‘You will not lie to me, Halbrand’, she cut him off; sharp and unrelenting as a knife as she stood before his desk. And even in that moment, did he find himself taken with her. Gods, she could tear out his heart and he would still be at her knees.

He pursed his lips at her accusation however; head lowered for but a moment before he met her gaze again. And as he did, he caught the softening in her facial expression. ‘Have you lent the Dark Lord your ear?’ she wondered and he noted the trace of fear in her sweet voice; ‘please tell me you have not.’

He had pushed himself out of his chair then adjusted the scattered papers lying atop the otherwise neat desk. ‘You fear for my safety? I did not realize you were so taken with my well-being, my Lady’ he returned the inquiry with a certain edge of smugness.

And he adored the way she rolled her eyes at him, the way she carded her thin fingers through her unruly hair. ‘You think I jest?’ she scoffed then stepped towards him. ‘The One Ring has been found. War is coming. It threatens us all and yet you spoke against the quest to save us all’, she argued.

He clenched his jaw displeased by the grim reminder. As if he wished to recall her hurt gaze during that meeting. As if he had ill intent by speaking his mind. As if he wasn’t terrified to lose his brother-

Her tender hands slipping within his startled him out of his thoughts. Her eyes so saddened as they linked with his. ‘Please, tell me the truth of it’, she damn-near pleaded; ‘please tell me you have not lost your heart to the darkness.’

Her palms were calloused resting against his. The grime and dirt washed away from her lovely features and her lithe body clad in a silvery blue gown. Yet all this did nothing to hide the Ranger whom she truly was:

One of the Dúnedain same as him.

Same as Aragorn, the destined King; the firstborn son.

He did not wish to be plagued by such envy yet more oft than not, did he feel it cloud his mind. He was envious of his brother whom had turned away from his responsibilities as the rightful King. Like Aragorn, Halbrand had been told the truth of his lineage once he came of age. Yet Elrond in all his supposed wisdom had told him not to pursue the path of Kingship for it was not destined for him.

For Aragorn had been given the name Estel.

For his brother was meant to rekindle hope within the Races of Men.

But despite this, he had done naught to fulfil that destiny.

Gods, it infuriated him.

‘Halbrand?’

She peered up at him through her eyelashes puzzled by his silence. He went to scrape his throat then answered her. ‘I am not the agent of chaos you fear’, he said then drew his thumbs softly along her knuckles; ‘you needn’t look at me as if I am.’

She let out a sigh of both relief and shame. ‘Forgive me-I thought-’ she stumbled over her words making him tighten his hold on her.

‘You thought I would doom of Middle-Earth for a crown to be placed upon my head?’ he wondered and she glanced at him guiltily. Though, he was only amused by her.

‘It is within the realm of possibility, my Lady. Mayhaps, it would be the only way for Men to see my worth’, he taunted her.

She huffed. ‘You mustn’t make lightly of this. Your worth is not dictated by whether or not a crown sits upon your brow-’ ‘then by what? Hmm?’ he cut her off; stern yet sincere.

‘By what is my worth measured then? By those whom follow me? Love me?’ he continued to ask as he looked down at their still entwined hands. She was quick to notice this and he could have sworn he saw a hint of pink blossoming on her cheeks.

‘You ought to mind that sly tongue of yours’, she retorted.

He let out a quiet but brief laugh. ‘Ah. But that is not an answer to my question, meleth nîn(my love)’, his words caused the flush on her face to deepen and he reveled in that knowledge.

‘You have plenty whom would willingly follow you’, was her quiet response though he wasn’t quite finished with her yet. He tugged her towards him; his nose at the height of her forehead as he whispered:

‘And would you? Hmm?’

Upon her silence, he slipped his fingers under her jaw. Lifting her head gently he then gazed into those eyes he had come to adore. He let himself admire the fullness of her lips for a moment, before he met the beauty which was her soft stare.

But before he could lean down and claim her for his own, there was a knock at his door. And with that, the tension between them was broken leaving her to tuck her hair idly behind her ears. ‘I-I ought to take my leave’, she said then bowed; ‘good day, my Lord.’

She had brushed past none other than Aragorn on her way out, which left Halbrand highly irritated and partially fearful for the confrontation which would come.

Taglist:

@jack-napier-2008 @ofheroesandvillains

[queenmeriadoc]

Halbrand sneaking out of his cell to kill the men that attacked him, one by one, each in a more brutal and horrific way.

But no one can figure who did it, because it can’t have been him, he was locked up all night.

[lina-lovebug]

THE FACT THAT HALBRAND/ SAURAN APOLOGIZED BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH HE HURT GALADRIEL WHEN HER BROTHER WAS KILLED!!

HE FELT HORRIBLE!

I WOULD HAVE FOLDED AND SAID YES!!

[fan-randomness-mess]

TROP Fanfic Prompt

Sauron repents and becomes an ~Istar~

After watching the entire series and reading all the theories, headcanons and AUs my Plot Bunny got overexcited and wouldn’t leave me alone untill I shared this with others.

With this in mind, this prompt is completely up for adoption and fanwork, just tag me, please.

Summary:

Au in which Mairon got on that raft, and he did so trying to get to Valinor and repent for his sins as Sauron and he made it.

(Expands from that moment to the end of the LOTR)

Once in Valinor, he gets judged and the Valar decide that his punishment shall be what he always wanted: The healing of ME. He’ll join the Istari in the aid of the peoples of Middle Earth, so they may recover from the horrors Morgoth and him caused.

Still, the Valar they aren't stupid, he can't be allowed to be the most powerful being in ME and go around showing off and Maiar-handling people into doing stuff like he did as Sauron. So his Istar Terms and Conditions are a bit more strict than most.

Instead of just being forbidden of expressing his powers like the other Istari in the order the Valar decide to separate his Maiar powers from his “fëa” (I know  Aïnur don’t really work like this, but if Tolkien said he could bind his power to the One Ring to the point of being formless without it, I say the Valar con do something similar).

His fëa gets bound to a mortal form (Halbrand’s) which will be prone to all weaknesses known to mortals, except aging. (None of the Valar want to be responsible for reincarnating the fucker every 50 years). He still can die from wounds, but it would only mean he would get thrown back to Valinor for the Valar to reincarnate. (And no fucking way is Mairon, as either Sauron or Halbrand, going to give them that satisfaction)

His Aïnur powers get casted into a ring.  Which is then given to Curumo/ Saruman for safe-keeping. (See where I am going with this?). 

At first it all goes well, the six Istari get thrown to ME and things go great, it’s grueling work, specially for Mairon, who still has a few bad habits he has to break from (bad habits = being a fascist industrialist cunt), but with some nudges and punches he starts getting the right idea about how thinks must work like in ME. One of his first tries to do good leads him to Eregion where he finds about the elves plight and he decides to help them taking a page from Aüle’s book about how rings can contain power and certainly they can also amplify it? (Yes, this can be when he meets Galadriel, who tries to bash his head in with an anvil, road runner style, but gets stopped by both Elrond and Gandalf)

But then, lo and behold someone goes dark AND IT’S NOT HIM.

Turns out giving a ring with extra power to Saruman just before sending him to get a look at the chaos that is ME was not a great idea, cause as an absurd amount of Aüle’s apprentices, he has a weaknesses for authoritarianism and an unhealthy fascination for Melkor’s “Mein Kampf”.  And he’s decided to use the ring as a means for amplifying his powers and take his spot in the Book of Dark Overlords.

From here on the story goes on much like we know it to go, but instead of Sauron being the Lord of the Ring, the title goes to Saruman, who can get some new uncool nickname that referes to his innability to make a single wise choice, and Sauron taking up a role as a proto-Dunedaïn, that gets voluntered to partake in all of Gandalf’s shite-schemes and then some, in his quest for peace and healing not just ME, but himself from Melkor’s wounds.

[shady-swan-jones]

- You would make me a tyrant

- I would make you a Queen

Concept art by Julien Gauthier

[psychicbluebirdmiracle]

That time some random dudes decided to corner sauron in a alley and try to beat him up lol

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Halbrand (Sauron) visiting you in your dreams…

Your eye caught the split lip and swelling bruise on his cheek. The drying blood did very little to quell the unease growing in your chest.

You were warned not to speak with him. It was explicitly requested that you alert Galadriel or Elrond should Sauron venture into your dreams again… but your heart loved too fiercely. Maybe it was as Galadriel had feared, that you had fallen in love by the allure of his darkness but you had fallen.

“Are you in pain?” You asked.

Halbrand seemed surprised by the question. He had visited each night for the past week speaking of adventures, whispering apologies or reminiscing over stolen moments and you had not uttered a single word - until now. 

“Physical pain can be endured. The ache in my chest, however, echoes more greatly.” He answered.

You turned away briefly in an attempt to wash away his implication of lingering emotions. Instead, you focused on another thought that plagued your mind.

“You are a being of great power.” You stated and looked at him once more. “Why have you subjected yourself to this?”

“Perhaps it was the only way to have you speak to me again?” Halbrand teased. When you chose not to comment he continued. “Or perhaps it is my penance for causing you such hurt?”

“That is no answer.” You told him sternly.

Halbrand softened his gaze and smiled lovingly like he had on so many occasions. “It is not but there are some secrets that I must hold on to. Surely you understand?”

“I do not hold on to secrets as you would assume.”

“No? Then why have you not yet awoken and called for the guards to report my appearance? Why have you chosen to keep Galadriel in the dark about my visits?” He questioned.

You remained silent. He was right. But you had no desire to confess that to him and you had a feeling that he knew it too.

“The hour is growing late. I will leave you to your dreams.” Halbrand said. “I do hope we speak again soon.”

He waited for a few moments. You had wanted to tell him to stay safe but that was far too complicated with what has unfolded. So you said nothing and watched him vanish, leaving you to dream of an empty room.

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: Oh how I’ve missed writing for this show!

[samblackblog]

The Lord of the Rings/The Rings of Power

⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔

Key: ◼︎Complete ◻︎Ongoing ●Discontinued ▸Series ▹One Shot

Halbrand

▹ Mind Games

[little-diable]

Dreams - Halbrand (smut)

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE LAST EPISODE! Please reblog and like if you enjoyed reading this drabble. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Halbrand tries to convince the reader to join him.

Warnings: a mixture of all genres, 18+, smut, oral (m receiving), emotional manipulation, open end

Pairing: Halbrand x fem!reader (1k words)

“Look at me, (y/n).” She shook her head, not daring to meet his eyes, scared that he’d realise how much power he truly held over her. Her mind was racing, caught in a loop, with Galadriel's voice ringing in her ears. Perhaps she was oblivious, perhaps she was stuck in an obsession, but perhaps she was simply in love. 

In love with a man who had lied to her from the moment their paths had crossed. 

“Don’t you want to be with me? Don’t you want to be by my side? Through it all?” Halbrand stepped closer, one step after another that brought him towards the trembling woman. “No? Are you sure about that?” Once again she shook her head, gasping as she felt him push her body, tumbling as her vision grew blurry.  

“My darling, so perfect for me.” Her heart was racing, eyes meeting his darkening ones. (Y/n) was kneeling before the naked man, hands wandering up his thighs to reach his twitching cock. Halbrand’s moans filled the dark room, the only sound her mind could focus on as she parted her lips for him. 

“Everything for you, my lord.” No further words were spoken, body and mind working without holding back, not listening to the uneasy feeling simmering inside of her. His cock rested heavy on her tongue, the taste of him stuck to the muscle, a taste she was all too used to by now. 

Halbrand’s hand found her head, guiding her bobbing motion. His cock disappeared down her throat, forcing (y/n) to gag around him. A sound so raw, so pure, the man felt his every conscious thought slipping. 

“I knew you’d be perfect for me, smart enough to embrace the darkness taking over your heart.” 

A gasp left (y/n) as she rose from the ground, tear-stained features turned from him. Halbrand was crouching next to her, hand tilting her head, cupping her warm cheek. A sob rumbled through her, filling the air as he tightened his grip. 

“There’s no life you can lead without me by your side. You need me, as much as I need you. You were destined to rule by my side.” It was just above a whisper, nothing more than the words the breeze of Valinor would murmur, nothing more than the gentle wind stroking through the trees found in the western parts of Middle Earth. And yet it dripped with something she couldn’t put her finger on.

Was he lying to her once again? 

“Let me go.” (Y/n)‘s voice trembled, shaking with every further word she spoke. Even though deep down she knew that there was no escaping him, tied to the man by the love she fostered in her still racing heart, she tried to escape, fingers buried in the soil. Halbrand didn’t let her move from him, keeping her close to relish in the heat that radiated off her. 

“You will come with me. You won’t leave me.” And with another push she was once again caught in a past moment. 

“Oh god, don’t stop, please. I love you.” (Y/n) cried the words, fingernails leaving crescent shapes in the flesh of his shoulder. Halbrand fucked her with ferocious thrusts, hips meeting hers over and over again. 

He fucked her with no mercy lingering in his body, set on claiming her, set on reminding her who she belonged to. 

“Fuck, feels like you were made for me.” His words left her moaning, eyes fluttering close, set on holding onto the feeling he pushed through her. A feeling she’d never get used to. Her mind was caught in a trance, focusing on his every touch, the marks he kept leaving on her body. 

The body he had started to call his many moons ago. 

“You can’t tell me that you want to let this go.” Her body was burning up, fighting against the exhaustion pushed through her system. Halbrand had her trapped, chained to him with a silent threat spoken into the afternoon air. 

“Why? Why did you lie to me?” Tears kept rolling down her cheeks, tears of exhaustion, tears of confusion and tears of anger. Tears he caught with his thumb stroking her skin, set on drying them one by one. 

“I had to. We wouldn’t have this, if you had known of my identity, would we? Oh, darling.” Her eyes fell shut as he pulled her into his chest, lips pressed against her forehead. Her tears soaked through his shirt, staining the fabric that had carefully been crafted by skilled fingers. 

“Do you remember what I told you the first night you gave into my calling?” 

“Let me love you, till the last star on Middle Earth’s sky burns out. Let me, please.” Slow thrusts pushed her further to the edge. Halbrand had his arm slung around her, slowly fucking her as if they had all time this life was offering them. 

“Please, don’t ever stop loving me.” (Y/n) moaned against his lips, teeth grazing his lower lip. Whatever had tied them together as their eyes had crossed for the first time, still had its grasp on them. 

She felt her high arise, burning through her veins like the fires that would alight the sky whenever celebrations were held. And yet this moment was by far more intimate, more loving, more thrilling. 

One last thrust gave her the final push her body needed, forcing (y/n) to cum on his cock. Her walls clamped down on him, keeping him close as the feeling filled every vein of hers. 

“Join me, like you were destined to, (y/n).”

Please like and reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading this, come talk to me about my writing, let’s spill some tea or thirst over our favorite people. xxx

Use this link to join the taglist

[ivfrankenstein]

sauron’s part to halbrand’s part (we all know which won) 🫡😮‍💨

[sarcastic-halfling-princess]

Suspicious Minds - Halbrand (AU) x Reader x Aragorn - Chapter II

Pairing: Halbrand (AU) x Female Ranger!Reader x Aragorn

summary: In an alternative universe, Halbrand was never Sauron. He was the secondborn son of Arathorn II and Gilgraen. Unborn by the time of his father's death his mother, along with a two-year old Aragorn, flees to Rivendell. This fic means to explore both a love-triangle scenario between the two brothers, as well as their relationship and how this would affect Aragorn's character. Basically this is a very self-indulgent fanfic so bear with me.

Word count: 920

Warnings: none

A/N: I want to thank all of you for your kind words and responses to my crackhead idea of a fic. It means a lot to me and I'm so grateful ya'll like it so much!

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Chapter II: Aragorn

Aragorn was not unfamiliar with anger from his younger brother.

He had not been blind to the latter’s skulking.

The ill-content glances whenever their heritage was mentioned in passing.

It often brought great strive which saddened him.

They had never had the fortune to know their father and their mother had long since passed. Halbrand was all Aragorn had left connecting him to his, no, their past aside from a few relics he could not care for.

And yet, his brother had spoken out against him; had made him look a fool at the council. And in all truth, it angered him. Did he not see the great evil which was upon them?

All these thoughts plagued him as he sauntered down the great halls of Rivendell determined to give Halbrand an earful on this matter. Though as he arrived at his brother’s study, he was met at the doorway by a fellow Ranger.

In truth, his heart stopped once their shoulders brushed. She halted but briefly in her stride, her rounded eyes so captivating as she apologized for bumping into him. He assured her there was no harm done earning him a sweet smile before she skipped off further into the hallway leaving Aragorn to admire the bounce in her hair; sunlight caught in its shine like a precious metal.

Clearing his mind of these thoughts he reminded himself of his purpose and after taking a deep breath stepped into the solar. He found his brother standing there idly and he watched as the latter moved back to where papers laid scattered across his desk.

‘Have you come to scold me, háno nîn (my brother)?’ came the condescending tone Aragorn had become quite fed up with; ‘our beloved friend already saw to that just before you came here.’

He did not know why, but this irked him. Aragorn was far from a man to grow envious yet in those few moments, he felt the ugly prickle of green envy beneath his skin. Scraping his throat, he answered:

‘Then she did what I intended. Though, I suspect you expect me to give you another verbal lashing, given you refuse to look at me.’

‘Oh do stop it’, Halbrand scoffed glaring at him, ‘you may be destined to be King but it does not give you the right to act as if you are above me.’

‘Ah, the point reveals itself’, said Aragorn as he approached. Halbrand, in turn, slammed a paper down onto the wooden desk with fire in his stare; ‘you spoke out against me during the Council. The House of Elendil cannot stand upon a broken foundation’, he urged though his younger brother merely huffed in return.

‘It cannot stand on half a foundation, either’, the anger in his voice had begun to dissipate which made Aragorn quell his own in response. And though he was still very much irked, he let Halbrand continue.

‘You assume I spoke out to spite or ridicule you?’ he wondered, ‘you think I do not fear you shall not return from this quest?’

He had stepped around the desk, anguish painting his facial features as he gripped Aragorn’s shoulders: ‘You would venture into Mordor! Should you even get that far, there is no guarantee for your safe return!’

By then, all semblance of ire had left Aragorn. He had tugged the other man to him sighing deeply as he did. One hand placed to the back of his skull, he resisted the building sadness prickling behind his eyes.

‘What would you have me do, instead?’ his voice wavered with both dread and pain, ‘we cannot be selfish any longer, little brother.’

When he met Halbrand’s gaze, he saw there the very tears he had wished to blink away. He did not fight them any longer; releasing an unsteady breath from within his chest. ‘I must do this. You must let me do this. And should I not return-’

‘No-no-!’

Halbrand went to protect but Aragorn was quick to silence him; hands gripping either side of his face: ‘And should I not return’, he repeated; ‘it would fall upon you to reforge the shards of Narsil, to unite us all against our enemy. You must promise me this,  háno nîn (my brother)’, he spoke firmly, clearly.

And after a few moment, Halbrand agreed; nodding his head with tears streaming down his face. ‘I-I promise. You have my word’, the oath brought Aragorn certain peace and he embraced his brother yet again.

‘There is one more thing which I would ask of you’, he then requested as the fair visage of their fellow Ranger flashed through his mind; ‘look after her. I fear her to be more stubborn than you. She would journey with the Fellowship if allowed.’

Halbrand chuckled. Both brothers parting, the younger then wore an amused grin. ‘That is quite a task you would place upon me. You expect me to chain her down?’ he wondered as Aragorn drew a hand over his face.

‘She is precious to me, Halbrand’, he confessed, ‘I wish to see her safe. Protected.’

‘As do I, Aragorn. Yet we both know she is hardly in need of protection’, there was a gleam in his brother’s eye which Aragorn did not know how to place. He chose not to think much of it and nodded his head.

‘I am aware. Though, I would ask you watch over her still’, he repeated which led to a thoughtful moment of silence before Halbrand answered:

‘I will. I swear.’

taglist: @jack-napier-2008 @ofheroesandvillains @actualhawkesworld @woodyrubster @queen-ilmaree @northlilies

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

[silvergeek]

Just shut up.

I'm trying to fantasize.

Credit: grinxer via Instagram