#sauron pov

[mirroringdust]

Destitute of the light he once craved

The vision of the dark!Halbrand in episode 4 got me spiralling. I had not expected this but I love the implications so much. Maybe it's just the dark light but even if so it's like he is showing a corrupted version of his former hopeful self to her to tease her and at the same time show he was is now lost, with nothing left to hope for. I'm having angsty thoughts about their meeting and I love the tension that is about to enter the scene, so I just had to write something! I am sure I will love whatever actually happens in that scene but I think it is fun to play with different versions! (I'm also really fond of the dark! Galadriel theory! This would be amazing)

He towers over her, his face clouded in gloomy dust, and everywhere in the distance darkness has risen to its height, stroking the peaks of the mountains in the barren lands and beyond the borders. Heaviness lies upon the crown of defeated ground. There is nowhere left to run, nowhere left to go. And as the darkness stirs, he rises to his full power in the shivering cold. Everything that had ever been was multiplied and amplified in this moment. There is loneliness in the skies above him, and yet he is not bereft of hope that, this time, isolation will be diminished. There is a chance to wield his strength, a chance to gain power over the minds of men, even over the mind of this elf. Galadriel stands before him, her eyes glued to his face then to the armour he once only wore because of her

[youwearfinethingswellwriter]

In any other situation, Halbrand would have stayed himself. But something from the depths of his stomach tugged at him. What if he wasn’t enough? What if he needed more strength, more speed to fight off the orcs?

This wasn’t just about Galadriel anymore – he knew she could defend herself.

But Celebrían was part of the equation too.

Let me help you, Sauron said.

Halbrand knew it was a bad idea, but as he crashed into the first orc, it was like the lines between him and Sauron blurred. The world around him began to fade, even as he brought down his sword with one swift attack after the other. He was too focused on the fighting to notice the way reality was slipping from his grasp.

When Sauron was back in full force, the fighting went much quicker. He had the first orc down in no time and two others followed quickly thereafter, no matter how eager they were to kill him. They did not even come close to grazing him, let alone catching him off guard. He delighted in hearing them curse and cry out as he slashed into their flesh with all the violence he had held back for so long. The sight of the gushing blood only spurred him on as he grunted and laughed his way through them.

As soon as he was done with the batch that had attempted to attack him, Sauron sensed his surroundings beyond the bloodied bodies lying about on the ground.

There was one more.

His heart skipped a beat. This monster was further off. Near Galadriel and Celebrían. He sheathed his sword and prepared a throwing knife as he sprinted towards him. At last, the back of the orc came into view. Sauron pulled back his arm, aimed at the creature and-

The orc fell to his knees and collapsed before he had even thrown his knife.

Galadriel stood there, child in her arm, staring at him.

They stood in silence for a moment.

“I beat you to it,” she mumbled then.

He sensed the beat of her heart, the hair standing on the back of her neck. She was afraid. Not of the orcs. But of him.

She hadn’t been like this with him for a while. She had even reassured him at night, held him, no matter how many times he had told her that he didn’t need it.

Even if her touch felt right. But he would never admit that.

Now, she was hostile once more, and it started a fire of rage inside of him.

He watched her hold Celebrían tighter.

That stupid elf. What did she think was going to happen? That he would kidnap their daughter? Kill her?

Did she not remember the promise he had made? Did she not remember what Halbrand had told her about him?

Slowly, he strode forwards, keeping his eyes on them as he walked around the orc’s body.

He felt her hand graze a knife on her belt.

Foolish elf.

Stupidity did not suit Galadriel. Perhaps these were all just instincts she could not help but cave in to. But that made him even angrier. He stopped short in front of them, interested in seeing what Galadriel would do.

The raging storm of fury in his heart halted in its tracks the moment Celebrían turned to look up to him.

He stared back at her.

Hello Celebrían, he said.

Her frowning eyes moved over him, analyzing his face. His cheeks, his mouth, his nose. She was trying decipher him, to figure out whether he was friend or foe, even if he had her father's face. Sauron might have laughed. She was smart, there was no denying that.

A worthy heir.

Sauron felt the way Galadriel heart fell when Celebrían slowly lifted her arms towards him.

Yes. Good little being. You recognize greatness when you see it.

“Celebrían-” Galadriel choked. Gods, the distress of the elf was palpable.

When Galadriel’s eyes began to water, he took pity on her. “I will not hurt her.”

She was still frozen, her hold on Celebrían tight.

“Galadriel.”

She tightened the hold on her knife, but he did not care, for she stepped closer. Slowly and carefully, Sauron took up the child, returning Celebrían's curious gaze until he slowly pulled her in to his chest.

A chest that swelled with pride at the touch of her warm little body. He had conceived an heir. And Sauron knew she would be exceptional. Powerful and strong, the light of her mother and the power of her father coursing through her veins. She would move mountains.

He felt something else too, besides pride. But he pushed that feeling away.

“Dada?” Celebrían mumbled.

Sauron laughed. The child knew he bore the face of Halbrand, yet she also knew he was not quite him.

Her question was genuine. She was trying to make sense of this uncanny situation.

“Celebrían,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue like honey. It filled his body with newfound vigor just saying it.

Celebrían.

He gazed down at her, watching her tiny palm lift to his cheek.

The moment her hand touched him, he was pulled into a whirlwind, feeling Halbrand resurface with more force than ever before. Halbrand was furious with him for taking over, he knew that. But even his anger dwindled the moment he regained full consciousness and Celebrían's face was the first thing he saw. Halbrand’s heart slowed and a smile spread on his face.

Is she not beautiful? he even dared to ask him.

Sauron did not reply.

[cilil]

Ok, listen… what about Mairon taking dick for the first time…

I would prefer if the reader is gentle at first, but then Mairon demands him to go faster. The reader is a soft dom, but doesn’t talk too much during sex. (Bonus if he has a big dick)

If you’re uncomfortable doing this, I completely understand. No pressure :)

AN: Thank you for the prompt and apologies it took so long. I took some time to give this some thought because I wanted to (hopefully) make it good and when I was finally inspired I had to put the fic aside after a third or so due to exams. I hope you enjoy my take on this :)

Pairing: Mairon x male!reader (2nd person POV) Synopsis: Mairon has recently taken you as his lover and now has an unusual request - he wants you to take him Featuring: Soft dom/service top reader, pushy bottom Mairon, first time bottoming, sex toys (briefly), fingering, anal sex Warning(s): Smut, explicit Oneshot (~1.65k words)

"Are you sure you want to try this?" 

You look at him quizzically, resting next to him on his luxurious divan, propped up on your forearm. 

"Of course I am." Mairon smiles. His lilting, chuckling tone suggests that he finds your concern amusing. "Have you no faith in the strength and capability of my fána?" 

"I do," you reply without hesitation. It's the truth, you know well how powerful he is, yet when you look at his elegant, slender figure, you can't help thinking how awful it would feel to accidentally hurt him. 

Mairon traces the rim of the goblet of wine he's been holding with his index finger. Your eyes follow the movement. 

"I know what I want and how I want it," he says in a low voice. "So when I ask you to take me, I mean it." 

You nod. Your mouth suddenly feels dry and your tongue too clumsy to respond, but it's prickling excitement rather than paralysing fear or any other unpleasant emotion. The thought, now that you allow it to unfold in your mind, is tempting. 

"Will you do as I ask then?" 

You nod again. Of course you will. And you will do your best to ensure that he isn't displeased with you. 

"Good." Mairon leans forward to peck your lips, then pushes his goblet into your hand — a silent order. Dutifully, you take it and roll over to deposit it on the nearest table. 

You hear the sound of fabric. When you turn back around, he has already undone the sash holding his satin robes in place and is in the process of undressing himself. No need for frivolous pleasantries, no waste of time. 

Mairon leans on his forearms and lets his head fall back. In the flickering, warm light coming from the fireplace his skin looks like it's made of pure gold, as if he himself was a marvellous piece of art rather than a living, breathing being, and you take a moment to simply admire him. 

In spite of him not facing you, you feel his gaze on you. Maybe he placed his third eye in the fireplace or a candle flame somewhere, you can never be quite sure. 

"Well? Are you going to sit there and stare or..." Mairon trails off, spreading his legs invitingly. 

He has a way of maintaining control even when he puts himself in positions others might consider submissive. 

You clear your throat in an attempt to regain your ability to speak. "Do you have any oil on you? I need–" 

"Left pocket," he cuts you off. 

Bowing your head, you move to sit between his legs and search his half-discarded robe as you've been told. Indeed, there is a tiny flask of oil in his pocket, but when you bend down and push his legs back, you discover a fine ruby between his cheeks, decorating the end of what you presume to be a toy stuck inside him. 

"I did some preparations on my own," Mairon comments on your discovery. His voice is calm and casual, as if you were discussing minor business or idle gossip instead of sex toys. 

"I'll just make sure you're comfortable, if that's alright," you mumble in response. 

He lets you. When you pull out the toy, you notice that he's as tight as you suspected, but relaxed and well-oiled. Dutifully, you pour a little more oil on two fingers and push inside, finding little resistance. Still, he could use more stretching if he's going to take your cock. 

Mairon watches you, only letting out tiny noises of enjoyment as you go deeper and start scissoring him. You pay attention to the movements of his muscles and the way he clenches and unclenches around you, mindful of any tension you feel. Despite his inexperience with receiving his partner, his control over his fána is impeccable. 

"I should perhaps remind you that I am no fragile incarnate," Mairon says after a few minutes. 

"Sorry. It's just... you see..." You bite your lip and blush. The truth is that you are rather well endowed, something you have become aware of after past experiences and learned to pay attention to with your partners. 

"See what?" Mairon smirks. "Why not show me?" 

You get the feeling that he knows. Maybe it's precisely the reason he chose you as one of his lovers. Nevertheless, you obediently proceed to take off your clothes. Your cock is already hardening, reacting to the delightful sensation of your fingers knuckle-deep inside a gorgeous Maia. 

Mairon stares shamelessly. You even believe to see greed flaring up in his golden eyes. 

"Sorry if–" 

"I want it like that." He spreads his legs wider. "Now give it to me, precious." 

"Y-yes." 

You take a moment to breathe, yet don't dare delay any longer; not only because it's an order, but also because you are eager to do exactly what he's asking for. 

The first thing you feel is heat. For a moment you fear Mairon could burn you, but there is no pain. You begin to feel as though it could be pleasant once you adjust to it. 

"Go on." 

You nod. The second thing you feel is how tight he is, despite your best efforts, though it doesn't seem to cause him any discomfort. Mairon keeps his eyes on you when you push deeper, half-lidded and glowing with simmering pleasure. His lips part ever so slightly, but he makes no sound; you haven't earned it yet, you know. 

Wishing to please your lover, you kiss him instead — a promise, perhaps mixed with an apology. Mairon is not impossible to please, but not easily either. 

He wraps his legs around you and allows himself to sink into his pillows. What he wants is clear, and you don't even need the gentle pressure of his heel against your back to spur you on, though the gesture is welcome. When you lean forward, get on top of him, place your arms at his sides and sink both with and into him, you truly feel it. You are fucking this beautiful creature, and he wants you. The thought is exhilarating, maddening. Your hips begin to move before you know it. 

Mairon's eyelids flutter, and you observe him well, even as you give in to your growing desire. He's content with slow, careful thrusts for a while, enjoying the feeling of your cock filling him again and again, then he speaks up.

"Harder," he commands, "faster." 

You nod. You are no longer at a point where you have the focus or patience to ask if he's sure, and neither does he, you can sense it. Obediently, you increase the speed and vigour of your movements and marvel at how well he takes you, how good he feels, how hot and beautiful and perfect he is. Being taken by you for the first time doesn't prevent Mairon from performing well in his new role, from being as admirable as ever. 

He wraps his legs around you more tightly, pulling you in. You understand — deeper. Shifting your weight onto your knees, you reach for his hips and thighs, angle them to go deeper. Part of you briefly worries that it might cause discomfort, then you hear Mairon moan, long and indulgent. It encourages you to keep holding on to him like this and thrust as hard, fast and deep as you can. 

You intend to keep doing so even if your hips give out. The tight heat of his fána ever tempts you, burning away any exhaustion you may have felt. 

The greater challenge is to last. You wonder, for a second or so, if you are allowed to spill inside, but Mairon hasn't told you otherwise and says nothing whenever your cock twitches inside him — and you know he feels it, you can see him smile and hear him moan whenever it does. Proud and pleased with himself. Even his arrogance is sexy. 

The thought of filling him with your seed as you do with your cock pleases you. He is yours, for a few precious moments at least. But you know Mairon wants this to last, wants to enjoy himself thoroughly. He expects you to give him your best, like he has done for you; even if perfection seems almost effortless on him. 

You do your best to hold on. Focus on the flow of your movements instead of his voice, instead of the maddening pleasure, instead of him. You give it your all, and it works for a time, until exhaustion erodes your barriers and lust floods all your senses and you come with a small grunt. It feels as though Mairon clenches around you with feverish greed, taking all you have, not relenting before you have given it to him. 

Only then his fána lets you go. 

You sit back on your heels and attempt to catch your breath, lest you collapse on top of him like a stag with an arrow in its chest. 

Mairon has closed his eyes for a moment, looking almost peaceful. You see pearly droplets glistening all over his stomach; not even he managed to escape your climax and came with you. Pride makes your chest swell — you succeeded. You pleased him. 

His legs release your hips and drop to the bed. He keeps them spread, allowing you to watch as seed trickles out of him.

"Well done, precious," he purrs. "You may now leave."

"Shouldn't I take care of you first?" you ask. 

"My attendants will see to it." 

You bow your head, accepting his decision. Perhaps, you muse, his decision to let you take him was a first step, a sign of trust, and you will be allowed to care for him and spend the night if he has need for you again in the future. 

Perhaps it wouldn't be entirely foolish to look forward to it. 

 ˚ ੈ✧̣̇·˖ 　˚ .　　　✶ ˚　　✦　. 　 ˚　.　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　.  ˚　

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist:

@angbangbaby @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @uruk-thighs @bluezenzennie @destinyeternity1

@edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human

@numenhore @sauron-kraut @urwendii @wandererindreams

[minubell]

The Nyannatar brainrot is real

[tolkien-povs]

POV:

Your emo nephew falls in love with your daughter, but she's in love with a different man, so your emo nephew decides to tell your worst enemies your house address.

[eri-pl]

You know, what else would be hilarious?

You know, in AtLA the "Ember Island" episode? The one with theather? Imagine: After Doriath, the remaining Feanorians (M&M, A& maybe A depending on what you prefer) go spying among the refugees in one or another city (no, IDK how Maedhros is not recognizeable, elven illusions, ok? Maglor does it) and there is a theatre and it does a play about Feanor and his sons (mostly about the sons) and it has the budget of a Czech musical and historical accuracy of the Amazon series.

Most of the men are played by girls (because boys and adults are mostly dead or fighting), Maglor is the main character, portrayed as weeping all the time and talkieng about hope (see: Katara in the episode) and hating his brothers (also, a strong suggestion that he's actually Fingolfin's son). Maedhros is portrayed as an orc-like monster but also has a lot of evidently artifical muscles which he flexes all the time in a flirty way. Celegorm is shown eating people, beating his dog, and still somehow is a comic relief. Curufin is played by the same actor as Feanor, only wearing heels (yes, they do the "short Feanor" thing) and is basically the same character, only he screams less and speaks in whole sentences (yes, they somehow make Feanor dumb). Caranthir is somehow turned human to marry Haleth (who is an evil witch). Amrod and Amras are one character.

Oh, and the actor playing Maglor cannot sing well (for an Elf at least).

And they need to sit there unnoticed in order to gather information about the Silmaril later, or something.

[barbedbetty]

Apples

Halbrand x Reader

Warning: SMUT (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk (not my forte forgive me), some fluff

I felt borderline insane for volunteering to go with Elendil to help Lady Galadriel and Lord Halbrand, who I heard was supposedly the lost King of the Southlands. I had spoken to both of them briefly when they arrived as one of the lead Healers of the island.

Lady Galadriel was kind but had a fierce nature about her, I had little knowledge about how to treat an Elf but I held nothing against her. Truth be told, I didn’t understand why most people hated them but if you voiced that opinion out loud, you were likely to get a less that pleasant visit from rough people in a alley.

Halbrand on the other hand was rough and rugged and handsome, there was something about him I couldn’t put my finger on. He was polite, didn’t want to cause a fuss, and obviously had eyes for Lady Galadriel. On the surface, he was a typical man.

But in his eyes, there was something lurking.

After I volunteered, I was helping pack some things in the infirmary when Halbrand came to see me.

We had a lovely chat if I’m honest, we sat on one of the beds and he told about Middle Earth and some of the herbs I’d find useful and he asked about some of the ones from the island. After a few hours, we walked to outside together as most of the trunks were being loaded onto the ships.

“Thank you for telling me about where we’re going, that knowledge is worth more than gold.” I said. “How can I repay you?”

“There’s no need.” He replied, waving his hand nonchalantly. “Call it a gift.”

“Thank you, my lord.” I curtsied and smiled up at him, he was so tall compared to others.

“Thank you for accompanying us, my lady.” He bowed and winked at me, it made me blush.

I watched him walk away and I felt even more excited about the trip.

Once we arrived in Middle Earth, we found a small abandoned port to dock our ships. We set up camp and I sighed as I set my small tent up. Once I had it the way I wanted, I stepped inside and laid down on a thick blanket.

I just laid down and closed my eyes for a second, but when I opened my eyes the light was gone and it was pitch black outside. I peeked through the flap and saw the moon high in the sky, at this season meaning it was around midnight.

I felt groggy and stood up. I changed out of my day dress into a thick nightgown and tried to go back to sleep but it eluded me.

I was hungry and instead of trying to find the kitchens which were probably empty, I went down to the ships. There were probably still stores of fruits and salted meats that I could sneak away a few things that wouldn’t be missed.

I was down in the galley looking at the barrels for apples when I heard someone walking on deck.

I wasn’t doing anything wrong but I still felt like a child that was sneaking sweets after bedtime.

“Good evening, my lady.”

I turned and saw Halbrand smirking at me from the doorway. I smiled and bowed my head.

“My Lord.”

“What are you doing here so late?” He asked as he walked downstairs towards me.

“I fell asleep and missed dinner.” I shrugged and turned back to look for some food. “I figured I could take a few apples that wouldn’t be missed.”

I felt him step up right behind me and I froze. He reached around me and plucked a red apple from the barrel and gently turned me to face him.

“Like this one?” He smirked and held it out for me, but when I reached for it he pulled it back.

“Ah ah,” he chuckled and held it in front of my mouth. “Take a bite.”

I felt a shiver rush up my spine as he took a hold of my hip to hold me in place and step as close to me as he could.

“Go on.” He whispered. “I promise it tastes just as sweet as it looks.”

I blushed as his green eyes sparkled with mischief and lust, he lips ticked up in the corners as he waited for me to take his bait.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive, he was mysterious and charming, a dangerous combination.

I might never see him again after the battle, I thought to myself, it pulled at my very soul to think that.

So without waiting another second, I leaned forward and smirked at him playfully as I took a bite of his apple. Completely aware of the euphemism he was insinuating with his act, although he seemed surprised I played along with him.

I pulled my head back and swallowed the sweet bite.

I licked my lips of the juice and he watched my tongue run along my upper lip.

Feeling suddenly bold, I pushed the apple away and stepped closer to him and pushed my body against his and smiled.

“I’m hungry for something else now.” I whispered.

“What would that be?” He asked as he tossed the apple aside and held onto my hips to pull me as close as he could.

“You’ll see.” I whispered as I leaned forward and kissed him.

He moaned and teased my bottom lip with his tongue as he kissed me fiercely back.

I traced my hands down his body as he led the kiss and began untying his belt, once I did I pulled my head away and he started kissing and nipping down my neck as I fumbled a little with trying to undo the belt. He laughed softly against my neck and one of his hands wandered over my ass and began kneading the flesh there as he suckled on my pulse. I moaned and my fingers shook as I fought against the urge to let him do as he pleased to me.

I groaned and finally pushed his trousers down. I reached up and pushed at his shoulders and he looked stunned that I pushed him away. His back hit a vertical beam and I supposed he thought for a second that I changed my mind.

But only for a moment, as I got down on my knees and started to stroke his thick cock with my hand.

He moaned louder and threw his head back against the beam.

“You don’t have to d-Ah!”

He cried out as I leaned forward and took the tip in my mouth. I felt his begin to shake and his hands trembled as they threaded through my hair.

I closed my eyes and gently suckled on the tip while his fingers found purchase in my hair.

I twisted my fist while sucking him and every once in awhile I’d massage under the tip with my tongue which made his moan and pant.

“That’s it.” He whispered as he thrusted his hips a little. “Good girl.”

I shivered and moved my hands to hood onto his hips while he helped me bob my head back and forth along his length.

“S’pretty on your knees for me,” he moaned as he jerked his hips a little when I swirled my tongue around the tip. “You’re so beautiful.”

I blushed and kept moving my head when he pulled me off of him. I looked up and must’ve looked a mess with swollen lips and my eyes welling up with tears from trying not to gag.

He leaned down and pulled me to my feet and started kissing me like his life depended on it.

He turned me toward the beam and grabbed my hands and placed them on the soft wood. He pulled my hips back and kissed across my bared shoulder.

“Don’t move.” He grunted as he lifted my skirt up and felt up my backside.

I felt his fingers glide over my wet entrance and I moaned, then I felt his tongue.

“Ohhh, my lord.” I groaned softly as he began licking thick, hot stripes up my center and then his long fingers began pumping inside me.

I grinded my hips as much as I could and tilted my head back, moaning like a wanton courtesan.

He moaned against my skin and drew quick small circles around my clit with his tongue and I felt a tingle slowly move up my spine.

“I’m gonna come!” I cried out, I gripped the wooden beam as tightly as I could and arch my back like a cat. I was right there, transfixed on a precipice of a fall and he pulled away.

I whimpered and leaned my forehead against the beam.

“Noooo.” I whimpered and almost stomped my foot.

“Patience, luv.” Halbrand whispered as he kissed my shoulder and bit gently at my skin as his rough fingers felt up my thighs and grasped my hips firmly.

“I’ll give you what you want.” He promised and when I was about to answer him, he thrusted his full length inside me.

I opened my mouth to scream but he covered my mouth.

“Shhh, only I get to hear the sounds you make.” He chuckled and I felt it as he pushed his chest along my back. “The guards are going to come back soon. You don’t want them to hear you, do you?”

I moaned and grew a little embarrassed by the wetness that now surrounded his cock inside me. He shuddered and nipped at the back of my neck.

“Oh you naughty girl.” He pulled my chest up so I was almost standing and his front was completely flush against my backside.

He felt so deep, it was like I could feel him in my chest. I could barely breathe let alone speak if he moved his hand away.

He began a slow deliberate pace where he’d pull out halfway then push back inside me. My eyes rolled into my head, it felt like every single nerve ending on my body was on fire. It felt so primal and feral yet intimate. He hand over my mouth was determined not to move but he wasn’t putting any pressure that would make it uncomfortable. His thick, hot cock was burning me from the inside out but I could’ve lived with that deep passionate burn forever.

I moaned and let him use my body as he wanted.

“Oh, that’s my good girl.” He whispered in my ear, his breathing was trembling and the way his voice cracked made me feel powerful.

“You want to come on my cock, don’t you?” He asked. “You want to finish inside you?”

I nodded and moaned again circling my hips as he thrusted into me as a sign of my willingness. He groaned into my hair and snapped his hips up. I cried out at the sudden movement and I feel his chest begin to rise and fall quickly as he panted and his pace quickened.

“Yes, you feel so perfect around me.” He moaned louder than before and sped up. “I can feel you’re close, that’s it.”

I held onto the beam and leaned my head back against his shoulder and my vision went white as I came, my pussy pulsating around his cock. I screamed into his hand and felt my body seize up with overstimulation. It was all too much.

The heat from his body, the burning pleasure from my own, the way he sped up and gripped my hip so hard I knew it’d leave a bruise.

He shouted as he came inside me and leaned his head against the back of my shoulder. He was panting and shivering, his hand left my mouth and I licked my lips to try and stave off the dryness I immediately felt.

For a minute we stayed still, trying to catch our breath and he stayed inside me as deep as he could go. He thrusted a little deeper and we both winced. I gasped and tried to push his hips away but he held my hand instead.

“No, luv.” He whispered against my skin. “Not yet, I want to feel you for as long as I can.”

I leaned fully against the beam and shivered when I finally managed to catch my breath.

He started kissing the back of my neck and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” I whispered.

“A few weeks ago I was stranded and didn’t think I’d find salvation.” He finally pulled out of me and I gasped and groaned as my legs began to buckle. I heard him buckle his trousers back up and while I tried to gain some footing, he bent over and put his arms under my knees and back and picked me up.

He looked into my eyes and gripped me tight as he smiled.

“And now, I hold the sun in my arms.”

I blushed and wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned my head against his chest.

“Let’s go back to my tent.” He whispered. “I have apples there you might like.”

[loweryourriskofheartdisease]

Trying to get control Pressure's taking its toll Stuck in the middle zone I just want you alone

My guessing game is strong Way too real to be wrong

Caught up in your show Yeah, at least now I know

It wasn't love, it wasn't love It was a perfect illusion (Perfect illusion)

Mistaken for love, it wasn't love

It was a perfect illusion (Perfect illusion)

Oh, you were a perfect illusion.....

(lyrics by LadyGaga Galadriel lol)

[spiced-wine-fic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Vanimórë, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Sauron (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Angband (Tolkien), Easterlings, Worldbuilding, AI-Generated Images, gapfiller, Dark Prince ‘verse Series: Part 6 of Dark Prince ~ The Darkness Has Its Own Light, Part 5 of Splinters of Steel Summary:

The High Chief of the Easterling camp is troubled when the Great Lord brings a slave from the Mountain.

“His blood must burn within him,” she said. “He is an amalgam. A made thing.”

[josephinekhawaja]

Initially reacted to this thinking of Galadriel what with that cute outfit and overall aesthetic — little ‘man-maiden’ things — before quickly realising this could easily be a Sauron song for her. Especially in light of what he let slip to Mirdania literally the following day. He would 1000% appropriate this for (his Lady) Galadriel. (...and Eregion is going to be looking like that onstage castle soon enough, if I correctly recall from the ‘This Season On’ 🏹🔥.) This would definitely be on his delusion soundtrack.

When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night With your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife...

[mirroringdust]

// Diversion Part 2

Curiousity - Temptation (Sauron POV)

It was not desire that made him so willingly answer her call. It was the opposite of that feeling of striving for something far away, going beyond the shades of possibility. No, if anything, it was curiosity, that unbounding distraction that paves the path for every foreseeable chance. A feeling that would give even more power, not take it. And that was what Sauron was clinging to when he agreed to meet her. It was a mind’s agreement, no words spoken, no letters exchanged, a connection quickly resurrected. And so, this time, he found himself striving along a path chosen by her. A meeting in the forest, a meeting from the past with the person he had first trusted before he had decided to mend everything that had been broken and rule this Middle Earth.

So h you like it and so happy to hear what you think ☺️

[elronds-library]

Istan Quetë

by RaisingCaiin (@the-tater)

In a ruined city, there stands a beautiful palace, and in this beautiful palace, there abides a kind god. This kind god has a wondrous set of rooms that he has gifted to his beloved, and in the wondrous rooms that he has gifted to his beloved, there is a set of books - books, it seems, that list all the words in all the world. Words of old, words that are new, words for things that you had never even considered before. . . And you (for yes, you are the beloved in this tale, as unexpected and inexplicable as such fortune is), you read these books. You do not read quickly, but you do read. And you may not learn quickly, but - you do learn.

Explicit, Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death

Words: 23,526

[cilil]

𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒾𝓇𝓈

Characters: Mairon, Gothmog, Eönwë, Tilion & Ossë; reader's gender is unspecified - all up to your imagination~

Featuring: 2nd person POV, vampire!Mairon, werewolf!Mairon, monsterfucking, Balrog anatomy, avian Ainu, merman, some Dom/sub dynamics, bit of predator/prey and other kinks, penetrative sex, intercrural sex, dirty talk

Warnings: Possessive themes, smut, tiny bit of degradation branding/burn marks, blood drinking/vampirism, mentions of impact play (whipping, spanking), swords/blades, bit of blood, biting, scratching

AN: Thanks to everyone who voted on my poll (back in the day). Sorry for the delay and here are your top choices plus our favorite birdy boy - hope you enjoy!

Mairon

𓂀 Once your heart is his, Mairon makes sure to live up to his reputation as the Lord of Gifts and the Lord of the Rings. Whether it is to seal a bond of marriage, asking for your hand or a promise of love and courtship, he crafts a beautiful ring just for you - showing everyone that you are now his and possibly also enhancing said ring with a few spells so he can watch over you.

𓂀 Yet gold is not the only way for him to mark your body; he also loves to use his fire to ensure neither you nor anyone else will ever forget where you belong. Mairon's preferred symbol to draw on your skin is The Eye, and he loves to place it right on your neck or chest so he can see it every time he takes you.

𓂀 His love and desire for you take many forms, as does he; when in the shape of a vampire, he enjoys biting you and drinking your blood while he makes love to you, strengthening the bond between you. He may sing to you to keep you calm while he feeds, and his song causes the wound and the vein he drank from to appear golden for a time until it slowly fades. Mairon expects you to wear those marks with pride and not cover them up.

𓂀 Whenever his form has more wolfish attributes, he also likes leaving bite marks, but his favorite feature is his knot. He loves how it swells inside you and stretches you out while he breeds you and how it keeps his seed inside until he decides he's done with you for the night.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

"Do you think you can take it?" 

Mairon slams into you with the full strength of his fána, making sure you can feel every inch of his hot, hard cock stretching you out without mercy. 

"Do you think you can take my knot, my precious little slut?" 

You barely manage to nod before a searing hot sensation makes you cry out in pain and pleasure alike. The eye symbol, proudly adorning your chest, glows in response to his words, like on the day when you were first marked by his hand. 

Satisfied with your obedience, Mairon stops moving and allows his seed to fill you. His knot swells proudly, binding you to him, and you try to muffle another scream — only for him to deter you with a quick slap on your thigh. 

"No," he says firmly, "let me hear it. I want to hear how much you love this, and you will not deny me."

Gothmog

☄ Contrary to popular belief, Gothmog can be affectionate and isn't afraid to show it. He likes to keep you close in public and holds you like a pretty little doll, making it clear to everyone that you belong to him and no one else may come close to you, let alone touch you. Even when he isn't around, the scent of fire and heat of his touch seems to surround you everywhere you go.

☄ Yet make no mistake: The Lord of Balrogs is incredibly strong and likes it rough. He may use his claws and fangs to as part of passionate love making and leave bite and scratch marks in strategic spots to ensure that everyone knows he has claimed you. Carry your marks with pride: To Balrogs, they are a symbol of strength and a sign that you belong.

☄ Gothmog's favorite way to claim and mark you, however, is fire - but he won't use his whip unless you ask him to. Instead, he may opt to simply use his hands to leave a nice and warm hand print on your skin; the same applies to any sort of impact play where he uses his hands instead of any tools. The touch of a Balrog leaves a lingering feeling of either cosy warmth or searing heat, and which one it will be is his choice to make.

☄ Aside from horns that you can hold on to, Gothmog also has a tail - and yes, he can and will use it. Not only is it a convenient as an additional limb to wrap around you and pull you close when his hands and arms are occupied and to keep others away from you, but he can also use it to fuck you if he so chooses, be it to tease you or for double penetration. He loves to test your limits.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

"What a pretty little thing you are." Gothmog pats your head with his large hand while he continues to effortlessly bounce you on his lap as if you weigh nothing. 

You would have cried out from the intensity of his massive cock thrusting in and out of you rapidly, but all you manage is a muffled moan; your mouth is currently occupied by the tip of his tail. 

"We don't need the entire fortress to hear you," Gothmog said beforehand, and you agreed. 

He is — for his standards — gentle with you, but you also know that there isn't much mercy to be had in Angband. You consider yourself lucky to be with him. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when Gothmog rakes the claws of his free hand down your back and chuckles when he feels your throat vibrate with muted screams. 

"And so good for me too," he adds to his previous statement. "Keep taking me so nicely and I might even let you rest after this round."

Eönwë

⚔ As sweet and affectionate as Eönwë is with you in private, he's not exactly fond of others trying to compete, particularly during avian mating season. He stays with you whenever he can, guarding you like a precious treasure, and watches the people who approach you, both when's nearby and when he's somewhere else. Should another suitor be so foolish as to approach you anyway, they will soon notice a very irate Maia glaring at them and posturing aggressively, every single feather fluffed up.

⚔ While you two are still courting and not quite ready for marriage yet, Eönwë presents you with a lovely promise bracelet or anklet (your choice), made of his favorite materials that he gathered himself. Nothing makes him happier than seeing you wear it, and conveniently enough it also serves as a reminder to other suitors that you are very much taken - by the chief of the Maiar, no less.

⚔ When Eönwë makes love to you, he can be gentle, but he can also be feral. Sometimes his desire simply overwhelms him. Depending on his current form, he has talons on his hands and will make use of them to mark you, even drawing ancient patterns on you to show everyone who claimed you. You can also expect to find yourself covered in love bites, with his favorite area being your neck.

⚔ If you enjoy rough sex and agree to try out some more "extreme" kinks, Eönwë would love to make use of his sword - the song of steel and battle is ingrained in his very being, after all. As much as the rational part of him hates to see you hurt, the feral part of him is fascinated by the way you shiver when a cold blade is pressed against you or when it leaves beautiful lines of red on your skin and draws a few droplets of blood.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

Cold steel bites into your skin as the blade touches your throat, but you only have eyes for Eönwë. He's breathing heavily, and his fána glows with barely contained lust. 

"I want you," he breathes. 

You spread your legs in silent invitation. Surely he must know that you are already his; even if you decided to fight back now, which is the last thing on your mind, he would be too strong for you. 

"Exactly like this," Eönwë says then, and you understand. He wants to take you with his sword at your throat, utterly at his mercy, and your skin prickles with excitement. 

The prospect of submitting to the greatest warrior of the Maiar so completely is thrilling. 

Eönwë enters you with one swift thrust, his free hand reaching for your hip. You make sure not to move, as you know he wants from you, and welcome him inside. The blade presses against your skin, but only lightly; his hold is steady, his posture impeccable, no blood is drawn. 

You surrender. 

Tilion

☽ Tilion loves antlers, his pride and joy when it comes to his fána, and wants to share that with you. If you yourself are an Ainu and grow your own pair, he will paint them silver with moonlight. If not, he will gladly hunt beasts of your choosing for you to claim their horns or antlers as a prize for you to wear and paint them as well. Nothing makes him more proud than everyone seeing that you belong to him.

☽ In order to make sure you are always safe, even when he isn't around, Tilion also crafts protective moon charms, infused with the light of Telperion's fruit. These are designed to keep creatures of darkness away, fearing his wrath, and may also glow to alert you to nearby danger. Not least of all they come with the additional benefit of letting everyone know that Tilion is only ever one call away.

☽ He loves to be intimate with you whenever he can, worshiping your body to his heart's content. Like his own hunt and war paint, Tilion enjoys painting your skin with matching patterns. These are expressions of love and companionship, glowing hymns to your beauty, but also marks of ownership and desire.

☽ For as hopelessly romantic as Tilion is, never forget that he's also a hunter. When lust overwhelms him, he is a passionate and wild lover, and sex with him can get rough. He enjoys chasing you, catching you and holding you down while he takes you, as well as leaving bite marks all over your body. Rest assured though that he will take good care of you after and do anything to ensure that you're comfortable and at ease.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

"You are too beautiful for your own good," Tilion sighs, smiling as he kisses you on the lips. 

You are both naked, lying together on a bed of moss in the woods of Oromë, and panting heavily after a wild and lengthy chase. Of course your lover has caught you in the end and carried you to a comfortable hidden spot to enjoy his prey. 

Tilion trails his hand down your chest, your stomach, your lower body, and you spread your legs in anticipation. He wants you, you can see it; his midnight blue eyes darken with desire. 

"There you go, little deer," whispers gentle praise against your lips before pushing two fingers inside of you. "You will be all nice and wet for me soon, won't you?" 

You nod. Of course you will be; how could you not when you are with your beloved hunter, chasing your love and your pleasure with no less determination and ferocity than he chases his prey. 

Ossë

⚡︎ Ossë is a capricious and jealous lover. His feelings for you are strong and passionate, and he will fight anyone who wishes you ill - or comes closer than he would like. The storms he conjures are mighty, and even if Ulmo and Uinen stop him from giving in to his jealousy, Ossë is also a mischievous Maia who will find other ways to mess with those who have wronged you or him.

⚡︎ You will find yourself getting showered with gifts from him, various trinkets that he picks up in the oceans of Arda: Pearls, seashells, items and parts from sunken ships, bones, teeth and also all sorts of fish and sea creatures he caught for you. Ossë delights in swimming, diving and hunting to his heart's content, but most importantly coming home to you with something new to show you.

⚡︎ Just like he himself is wild and fierce, so is intimacy with him. You will find yourself completely soaked, regardless of whether he takes you in the water (as he prefers) or outside, and covered in bite and scratch marks; Ossë simply can't resist taking a bite out of something as beautiful as you are. He also loves the thought that everyone can tell what you two have done afterwards.

⚡︎ Ossë enjoys being on top of you, all around you and inside you, having his tail wrapped tightly around you. After he's done making love to you, he likes carrying you around like a precious little pearl and singing to you in ancient tongues until you fall asleep. You may also notice that, whenever you've been with him, the scent of seawater sticks with you for days.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

The sand feels warm against your skin, but Ossë's form is cool and smooth. He rolls over so he's lying on top of you, his tail wrapping around your legs, and flashes you a toothy grin, like a hungry sea monster about to devour its unfortunate prey. 

"Should I take you here, marilla? Or should I drag you to the bottom of the ocean first?" he teases. 

Clawed, webbed fingers hold onto you possessively, and Ossë wastes no time nibbling on the side of your neck as you writhe underneath him. 

"Please have mercy, o lord of storms," you gasp, entertaining his little game to entice him to go on. 

You know your words had the intended effect when you feel something hard pressing against your thigh. 

"Perhaps I will," Ossë muses, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

His tail keeps its grip on your legs, and he pushes his now-exposed cock between your thighs to rut against you.

"We will even start slowly," he whispers, "but worry not. You shall feel my full strength soon enough."

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

marilla (Quenya) - pearl

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @angbangbaby @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @saintstars @singleteapot @urwendii

[hirazuki]

Mairon and Arien + 30 👉👈

…as comfort | Mairon & Arien

•────────────────────⋅☾ ☽⋅────────────────────•

He holds her face firmly between his palms -- the skin she has hidden herself away in is darker, a perfect contrast to his pallor, yet runs just as hot as his own -- and presses a rough kiss to her eyes, even as she pushes at him, attempting to tear away from his grasp.

"Stay away! Did you not hear me?" Arien cries, voice crackling like the flames when they lick at wood. "I will only burn you, too!"

"How absurd," Mairon says -- not relinquishing his grip on her -- in a manner he means to be comforting.

Most, he knows, do not understand it as such.

She is not most, however -- she never has been; his sister-spirit, his twin ember, the only other one like him left in this place -- and so he has never needed to cut off the surrounding air to temper his aura lest it be too caustic, to tuck away his edges until he is easy and palatable and unsharp. Not with her; never with her.

And he is determined that she treat with him in kind.

And so he pulls her back into his arms and keeps her there, a spark flashing wild and bright, and drops his face into the soft halo of curls that crowns her head.

"I am also made of fire."

The reminder is all it takes for her to break, and she sweeps over him like ashfall or a blaze of light, wrapping herself around him and clinging to his front, leaving him to piece together the details of what happened from the roaring fragments that flare across his mind and the strain of sobs, twisting and snapping, beneath his chin.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ☽༓☾. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Later, when limbs are tangled and words have fled and she has spent herself with grief, tears falling hot and gold until she gives into slumber, he kisses them again -- gently, this time, so as not to rouse her.

The room is dark, now, the light from the hearth and the lamps having burned low in response to her quietude.

His face, as he pulls away to study hers, is darker.

She is wasted on them, who fear her; who would seek to contain her, to control her, to dampen her fire to fit neatly within their limited notions until she is nothing more than a pretty lantern, politely lighting the paved streets of their cities.

Mairon despises waste.

He lifts a finger and softly traces her brow-bone to her cheek-line and all the way down to her lips, where his attention hovers, for a moment, before he leans in to rest his forehead against hers.

There is one, he thinks, and the very thought splits him like the fiercest bolt, leaving him cloven in half and bleeding Song, for it is something that will never be. One under whose command she would flourish.

He would let her run like wildfire in dry fields, clothe herself in the molten heat under the mountains and dance with all abandon on flaming feet upon the unmelting ice; scorch the entire sky, if she so wished. Mairon knows, because he has seen it for himself: he has visited the great forges beneath the earth and the sharp mountainsides that tumble into the pines and the grinding ice with its vast dark fogs, shrieking in its song; and he has left his heart there.

She would never agree, and he knows this as well; it is the reason he has not spoken to her of the wonders he has seen in the wilderness of the far north, new and marvelous and terrible, no matter how he burns to share it with her.

No; Arien will remain here, eclipsed by treelight, safely contained in her fana like candle-flame kept tame behind panes of glass.

And he will leave, one day. Soon.

Until then, he will stay quiet -- for her sake, more than his; close as they are, ignorance will, doubtless, be difficult enough to affirm for the last spirit of their kind remaining unallied with Melkor. He will let her find rest in her unknowing and take joy in what precious little time she is unaware is trickling out, and he will hold her, close and tight and often -- for Mairon does not plan to take anything with him when he goes, save the blinding memory of her brightness and her sweet, stinging scent and the weight of her, cradled in his arms.

These, he will carry with him across the water, to warm himself by in the coming days, in times of uncertainty, in the cold places of the world, when all other fires may prove to die out.

[tolkien-povs]

POV:

You have such a bad day that you can't even tell that "Dnugalef" and "Nereb" aren't orcs, but the names of two people who you hate just spelt backwards.

[andthebubbles]

i can’t decide which would be hotter: halbrand being just some middle earth dude (like we thought he might be pre-ep 8), or halbrand being sauron (which he is)