#tilion x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cilil · 18 days

Text

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

52 notes · View notes

edensrose · 1 year

Text

ㅤㅤㅤ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 ❜࿔

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ ainur⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. what happens when the ainur catch you indulging yourself? ( minors dni ៸៸ sexual content ៸៸ explicit descriptions ៸៸ dirty talk ៸៸ fingering ៸៸ cunnilingus ៸៸ penetrative sex ៸៸ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ៸៸ overstimulation ៸៸ edging ៸៸ use of aphrodisiacs ៸៸ nicknames ៸៸ orgasm denial )

· ⊰ note. oh this has been awhile in the making, enjoy<3

.°୭̥ ✿ˎˊ˗ the admirers. 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆 , 𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒐 , eönwë, 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆.

he's absolutely taken aback by you. the way your head hangs, the way your back arches so that your breast jutt out and give him the perfect view of your body overall. how you play with your little clit and breathe out for him. the second he hears his name he's inching closer and revealing himself to you. shushing your embarrassment and pleading that you let him help — let him touch you, adore you, worship you. how could you refuse?

"You're so beautiful, my little dove." He croons, bringing a thumb to replace your trembling fingers. He flicks the pad over your clit, rubbing in motions he knows damn well will have you whimpering for him.

"And to think you were doing all this by yourself? Why not ask me to take care of you?" Manwë dips his head to press kisses along your jawline as he fondles your needy pearl. He chuckles at your meek bucks into his hand. "Aren't you a darling little thing?" That is all it takes before he's joining you upon the bed. Face buried between your legs. Eating you out as though you were the finest of delicacies to his divine lips. Having you cum on his tongue until you are squirming from overstimulation. “Can you give me another?” He groans, burying his face deeper and moaning against your sweetness as he grinds his own hips against the sheets. “One more princess. One more for me.’’

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒐.

he could practically feel your desire before he even entered the room — but oh, nothing prepared him for the sight of you. your desperate little rutting into your pillow, the quiet, breathy moans. he could sense it all: your need, your heat, and most of all. . . how it was him that you desired. he couldn't help but find himself over you, pressing kisses to your neck to let you know it was just him before whispering to your ear all the things he was going to do to you.

"Such need, my petal. You are practically dripping." Irmo's lips feel hot on your skin as his fingers trace small patterns. Seeking to worship your body. He begins with your chest, his tongue circling your nipples. He'd chuckle at your little whines and begs for more — but he wouldn't let up. Not until your desire was pouring from you.

"You want me to touch you? Hmm?" His croon is soft as his kisses trail down, pressing against your quivering thighs. Two delicate fingers swipe up along your slit, and he smiles at your eagerness. "That's it, my pretty petal." His tongue nestles against your clit and he groans at your taste as he pushes both fingers into your quivering walls. "Give in to all those filthy desires. . . And all for me."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒘𝒆.

admittedly he was quite surprised when he came home after a long day of work to find you sprawled out and playing with your needy clit. after he got over the small guilt of leaving you waiting, arousal brimmed within him and he couldn't help but watch your little show. something cruel within him loved the way you whined and struggled to find your release. knowing good and well that just a few of his touches would send you off the edge. you needed him. which is why he made himself known — by replacing your hand with his.

"I suppose my dawn grew too desperate, hmm?" Eönwë smiles at the way you gasp his name and wastes no time in rubbing his calloused fingers along your trembling slit. He joins you on the bed, kneeling beside your bare form and gazing upon you with the eyes of a hawk. Hungry, lustful, as he leans over you to bring your faces closer.

"Oh sweetheart, you know that only I —" he bites back a groan as he pushes a finger into your heat and feels your wetness. " — can fuck this needy little cunt just right," his whisper fans against your lips and rewards you with both a carnal, fevered kiss and another finger that curls right into your sweet spot.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏.

nothing is better than coming home after a long shift of steering the moon, only to find you all desperate and riding his pillow with meek little moans and hushed gasps. he knew good and well how needy you could get with his shifts, and it sparks excitement within him like no other. he watches you, knowing that he is the reason for your state, before eagerly taking your thighs into his large hands and giving them a squeeze as he grinds his clothed crotch against your ass. whispering to your ear about how he's back to ruin this needy little hole.

"Fuck, you're amazing," breath fanning your heated ear, Tilion muffles your mewl but shoving your face into the softness of the pillow that you once chased your release upon. It is rendered a mere object for you to cling to as your lover ruins you as promised. Back flushed to yours, lips worshipping your skin and of course — his pounding cock that splits you in two and has your body thumping against the bed with each of his overly eager thrusts.

"Mm, that feel good, dear?" He pants as the arm loops around your waist brings his hand between your legs to abuse your clit. " — fuck," he groans against your ear, his deer ears twitching as he buries his head into the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. "Gonna. . . nhh, fuck this needy little hole until my next shift, eh? Gonna leave you dripping with me."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

.°୭̥ ✿ˎˊ˗ the sadists. 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒚 𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒎 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎

𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓, oromë, 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐.

oh, he is so mean. he doesn't even seem the least bit surprised when he finds you in such a state. chasing after your high aimlessly as you buck and grind into the pillow below you. whining his name, pleading the fantasy-him for some kind of relief. it certainly was a daydream, he notes. for if it were the real him — he would have had his fun with you in this state first and foremost.

Your little complaint is greeted by a brief spank to your thigh, causing you to whimper and limp further into the doomsman — your little ruts faltering in the slightest. "Now, where's all that enthusiasm? You'd rather a pillow over me?" Námo clicks his tongue, grabbing your chin so that you face him whilst you meekly grind into his lap.

"You can do better than that, little one." He notes, eyeing how your fluttering slit soaks the material his robes — perfectly pressing against his tent. "What's that?" His voice lowers, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as he chuckles and grabs your hips, digging his nails into the softness of his flesh. "You wish to cum? Grind faster then."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓.

the dark lord has a particular rule that he would rather you follow. only he is allowed to touch you. but he knows well that you engaging in this sort of pleasure is merely a ploy of getting him to prove who your body belongs to. to fuck you into a state of devastating bliss. so you know what? that's not what he'll give you. oh no, all you will be left with is regret the second his voice found your ear and you registered the tight grip on your hair.

"What's that?" Is all your whines are met with as you curl your fingers further into dark robes. Burying your face into his chest and inhaling his scent. Every stutter of your hips is greeted by a harsh smack to your thigh, causing you to limp further into him as he leans against the iron throne. You sit in his lap, full of his cock, yet no friction at all. And unable to take it for yourself either.

"Aww," Melkor croons, stroking a tear away from your cheek as you cry out to him in need. "What's that? My needy little slut wants to cum?" Icy lips ghosting yours, he breathes a chuckle before leaning back and placing his arms on the throne's rests. "Too bad. You're gonna sit there full of my cock until I say so. And not a second sooner."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆.

you were doing this to spite him, he knew. he had denied you in favour of his hunting trip, so of course you would sprawl yourself out on his bed, on full display should he walk through the door whilst you finger yourself. mess his sheets. oh, he won't let you get away with it. he'll take his time, bring you to the edge only to leave you whining and clinging to his hair as he devours you like a starved animal.

The ceiling became a mixture of blurs and hazes as your eyes threaten to loop back into your head. Lewd noises from below are exaggerated, stirring your arousal even further. Your head limps, you gasp, pant, squirm — all whilst tugging on white hair and begging for the high that you tittered the edge of. His tongue alternates with his fingers between your clit and slit. Your legs are tossed over his shoulders as he brings stars into your very vision.

"Close, little deer?" He groans against your cunt, his slitted pupils glancing at you through his white lashes as his nails dig into your thighs. You nod, beg, clinging further onto his messy tresses in hopes that he'll give you what you want. But your teary eyes are met with a smirk as he pulls away at the last minute, spanking your thigh as you whine out your disappointment. "Did you think I'd just give you everything, little deer? Bad little sluts don't get to cum." Before returning once more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏.

he'll just use it as an excuse to punish you. anything to have his way with you and get you squirming for him. calling his name as you desperately try to coax him into letting you cum. begging him to use you as he pleases if it means getting what you want. especially after he's left you tied up with one of his newest aphrodisiacs wrecking your body.

"Can't hear you, precious." Dark nails curl your hair into a fistful as his hips continue their onslaught. Refusing to let up even as you squirm on his lap or limp into him and plead for his mercy. Plead for a break from the endless orgasms he's pushed you through.

"Tired already? Wasn't it you that begged me to let you cum?" Mairon grasps your jaw in his hand and twists your head so that you are forced to look up at him — all whilst ramming into that devastating spot again and again. "Oh no, precious. We had a deal. I get to use this body until you can't take anymore." He leans into your ear with a cruel smirk tugging to his lips. "Now shut that pretty little mouth of yours and cum for me again."

·⊰ masterlist.

·⊰ tip jar.

·⊰ get tagged for my writing. @kiatheinsomniac @m-shade @flowerchildishere @bugnug @algae-rave @heraluthor @the-girl-king @qwerty-19923 @momoewn @tinkywinky27 @yonjisu @doodle-pops @noldorinpainter @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @miriel-estelwen @wandererindreams @ashfromvolcanoes @cilil @natchayaphorn @someoneinthestars @asianbutnotjapanese

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ please consider liking, reblogging and / or commenting if you enjoy my work! all feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

120 notes · View notes

ainur-confessions · 1 year

Text

❪ ♡ ❫ ── tilion , coming back home to you

he's always so eager to rush back home to you after his shifts. with a puffy tail and perked ears. so much so that he ends up losing track of the path and getting lost on his way back home to you. bumping right into arien who twists his ear and scolds him silly.

tilion cannot help it. he simply wishes to find himself beside you. have you in his arms as he nuzzles and showers you with affection. he took great pride in his duty, but the one thing he hated about it was how it deprived him of the one thing that mattered most to him in all of arda — you.

when he eventually manages to rush himself home, he's beyond disappointed to see that he has missed you. laying on your shared bed and knocked out for the count. his deer ears droop and the flowers in his hand would have too if he willed them. nevertheless, he'll crawl in beside you, hooking his arms around you and snuggling you into oblivion before he himself also falls asleep.

#·⊰ ꒰🎐꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 ៸៸ tilion ─ ♡.#tilion x reader #tilion #readrr insert #the silmarilion #silm #tolkien #ainur #maiar #imagines

22 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year

Text

By the light of the moon

🌙Pairing: Tilion x Fem. Reader (Elf/established relationship | Second person POV)

🌙Themes: Mild smut | Soft

🌙Word count: 1.6 words

🌙Warnings: Kissing | Some foreplay | Size kink | Penetrative sex | Cream pie

🌙Summary: After many nights part, Tilion returns, albeit briefly.

🌙Spicy level: 🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog.

The moon had already risen when he came.

The hour was late for many, but not for him. This was the world he reveled in, where others slumbered and naught could be heard but the wind in the trees and fountains bubbling away in silent gardens, where the air was sweet and clean, and cool to the skin. Tilion savoured it all, but there was something else that called him, that made him walk and walk, past quiet groves and over cobbled pathways, on and on until he found what he was looking for: a beautiful stone cottage and a wooden door painted a deep, deep blue and a single silver star at its center, and a ground floor window that was always kept open for him.

And this was how he found you after making his way inside, into your bedroom: snug under your pelts and blissfully asleep. He padded up to the bed, barefoot as always, and took a moment to just watch you—how your chest rose with each breath, how you sighed contentedly into your pillows. A brief moment was all he took, before slipping out of his garments and making his way under the covers. Tilion was freed of his duties for this night, and he wanted to make the most of it, for he didn't know when he would be able to come again.

"Little star," he breathed softly before pressing his lips to the nape of your neck.

It had been so long, so very long since he had last seen you. As guardian of both the moon and Ilinsor, Tilion had to spend most of his time in Ilmen, in the starry heavens, a place you could never go to. He had to come to Arda instead to see you. Not the he minded, not one bit. Tilion considered the journey worth it if it meant an hour spent in your company.

"My love," you mumbled as his kisses continued unabated. Tilion pressed one sweet kiss after another, sneaking an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. That woke you—the arm around your waist, the lips against your neck. He had come back to you. "You're here." You turned and pressed your lips against his. "You're really here."

Tilion smiled as he moved onto his back and held you over him. "I am here, little star. What happened while I was away?"

You told him, holding nothing back. You told him about the spring planting and the picnics, about the wizards' fireworks and the swims in the lake. Tilion arched a brow at this.

"Swimming?" he said, his voice as soft as his kiss. "With whom?"

"Just my friends," you snickered. Tilion was jealous; it was there in that sudden flash in his silvery eyes. "You have met them, Melara and Sarell?"

Tilion remembered, of course. He was most embarrassed, and more than a little foolish. "I have," he said, his fingers curling around your hair. "I just wish I could do it with you."

"Perhaps we can do it now, while you're here," your skin warmed with each breath he took, and your body rose every time he exhaled. He didn't feel it, the weight of you over him, and you relished it, how his cool skin felt under you. It made it all real, to feel his fana shudder beneath your body. "The lake is not that far."

"Later," Tilion said, anticipating a late-night dip in the lake. But for now, he had other things in mind. He had to leave by dawn, and dawn was only a few hours away. "Until then, little star, come here."

This kiss was just as sweet as the others and so full of longing. Soft, bow-like lips opened over yours, the sweetness of them pouring into your mouth and leaving you breathless. You purred helplessly into that kiss, your entire body quivering when his tongue licked past your lips and flicked against yours. Tilion held you gently, as he always did, smiling into his kiss as you melted him.

He kissed you until you trembled, until you were a whimpering mess in his embrace. Impatient, he tugged at the wisps you called a shift over your head, tossing them to the floor so he could feel your skin against his. And his kisses grew hungry, so very hungry, like he had been deprived for many moons. If asked, Tilion would readily admit that he was deprived, of your touch, your body, your very presence. His kiss devoured and ignited needs that were dark and sinful, needs that only he could satisfy. You felt it in the blood pounding in your ears and in the heat pooling in your core. Those needs grew and grew, whipped at you like new coils, and rendered you weak to his ministrations. Oh, and how he did so, lavishing you with his attention and his touch. Tilion would run his hands all over your body—your arms, your thighs. He'd run his hands repeatedly over your hair as if he had never felt anything finer. And those hands of his—a hunter's hands, a warrior's hands—were firm and yet so gentle at the same time. How you missed it, dreamed of it.

“I missed you, my love," you whispered shakily when you felt a hardening against your hip. He was as ready as you. "Will you be staying long this time?"

"Only till dawn, little star," Tilion murmured, his arms tightening around your waist. "So let us make this count, all right?"

There was no point in being disappointed. This was his duty, one he could not shake off. But he always came to you, and only you, the moment he was allowed to, and he didn't leave your side until he had no choice but to do so. You sat up, taking in his perfect countenance, the magnificent antlers that distinguished him from the other Maia, the snowy-white hair that spread across your pillows and glowed in the light of the full moon, and the eyes that only sought yours.

Till dawn, he said. Dawn was a good few hours away still, and there was plenty of time for the two of you to make the most of every moment before he had to go back.

"Yes," you breathed and moved lower, your hands gripping his arms for support. "We should make this count, my love."

His grin matched yours, wanton and wicked. He gripped your hips while you hovered over him, gently guiding you onto him. How it jolted you, to feel the sheer length of him push deep inside you, to feel the waves of subtle pain and unimaginable pleasure that would wash over you again and again. Only Tilion could fill you like this, as if he were made for you, and you for him. And the sounds he made, deep and drugging, filled the silent room. How you couldn't get enough of it, those moans and whimpers of his.

"I absolutely adore feeling you around me," he groaned, harsh and ragged, when you sheathed him completely.

You hummed in triumph when that grip on your hips hardened as if wanting you to move. You waited instead, your hands gliding over his broad torso, over muscles that trembled beneath your palms, over skin that seemed to warm at your touch. "Just as much as I cannot get enough of you inside me," you nearly sobbed when he moved instead, his thrust reaching the deepest parts of you.

Tilion kept a good grip on your hips, paying no mind to the fingers that dug into his arms. "Then move, little star," he growled. "Let me feel more of you."

You did, with slow, rocking movements. Your breath hitched as deft and nimble fingers made their way over your belly, as large hands glided up, slowly, oh so slowly, to the soft swell of your breasts. His touch was so gentle, so careful, and so skilled that each flick and caress stoked the fire already burning inside of you and made you moan.

How Tilion had hungered to hear it—the sounds you made when he gave you pleasure. All that time away, not feeling the warmth of your body or the sound of your voice; it was like torture for him, and now he feasted on every sound you made and on the tiniest movement of your body over his.

"That's it, little star," he moaned when you braced against his arms to go faster, your breath growing deeper with each passing moment. Tilion withdrew his hands and moved them to your hips agaib, bringing you down harder as pressure grew low in his belly. He felt it, in the ever-growing trembling in his fana, in the erratic movement of your body. A wave grew, one of unimaginable bliss, and if the wildness of that wave ruled him, it ruled you too. The two of you grew lost in each other, elf and Maia, bodies cleaving to each other, and that wave rose higher and higher, and the bliss with it, and then-

The world seemed to go white and stop spinning. His name parted your lips in a half-moan, half-whisper as your orgasm ripped through you. Strong hands held onto you, steadying you as a sweet haze of absolute satisfaction settled over you. So lost were you in that haze that you barely heard it—the deep, satisfying grunt as Tilion spilled his seed inside you.

Little could be heard, save for pelts slowly rustling and soft pants. Tilion held onto you, whispering sweet, soothing words even as he moved onto his side, taking you with him. He held onto you for as long as you needed, his hands brushing stray locks of hair out of your eyes. You blinked once, twice, before opening your eyes fully and looking up at him. His lips slowly curled into a lazy smile.

"Little star," he whispered, his arms tightening around your waist as if he didn't want to let you go. "How I missed you so."

Tilion said many other things—things he had been wanting to say for the longest possible time. And you listened, the feelings you had for him growing even stronger. And the two of you held each other once more and loved each other once more, before the lure of a late-night swim in the lake proved too hard to pass up.

The separations were always hard, but nights like this made it all worth it.

tags: @asianbutnotjapanese | @fictionfordays | @cilil | @edensrose | @floraroselaughter

#Tilion #Tilion smut #tilion x reader #x reader #the silm #the silmarillion #the silm smut #The silm imagine #tilion imagine #moon boy appreciation #writeblr #💫a world of whimsy writes

23 notes · View notes

dirty-ainur-confessions · 2 years

Text

❪ ♡ ❫ ── ainur , pre-consented somnophilia

they only returned to their shared chambers with you hours after you have long fallen asleep. it's been a long day. your body has been on their mind for half of it.

so what do they do when they find you curled up on your stomach, hugging onto your pillows and just ready for the taking?

collapse into you, bring their crotch to flush against you and immediately start rutting against you oh so desperately. it's fine if you don't wake up. they just need relief, they need you. they need to feel your heat, to have their arms around you, hear your sleepy little moans

they'd bury their face into the crook of your neck to hide their moans and how filthy they sound getting off of just grinding against your clothed cunt alone.

you'd wake upon feeling their cock beginning to breach your walls — pushing into you with a sinful groan against your shoulder.

when you call out to them you might think they hadn't heard you because they begin rutting their cock up into you without much hesitation and settle for moaning against your ear.

“just like that. ngh, just let me make you feel good sweetheart. just let me feel this pretty little cunt.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

·⊰ irmo, námo, oromë, mairon, eönwë, ossë, tilion

47 notes · View notes

ainur-interactions · 1 year

Note

Dear Tilion,

today's night your Moon shone so brightly I could almost read. I didn't though, for I could not take my eyes of you.

a blush engulfs his face and the maia begins to stammer and stutter, trying to find his words. on his lips in an excitable smile and all that leaves him is bashful stuffers.

“me — you — staring — you! h-. . . haha. . . you think I'm,” tilion gulps. “pretty?”

#·⊰ ꒰🌸꒱ 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ៸៸ tilion ─ ♡.#tilion #tilion x reader #the silmarillion #silm #tolkien #ainur #maiar #interactions

18 notes · View notes

yandere-ainur-confessions · 1 year

Note

would you write a headcanon of how valar and maiar fall for darling and start to be obsessed with them? (did I do it right?? I'm so nervous lol)

❪ ♡ ❫ ── 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰, 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 - 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 . . .

♡. 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

they remember it so vividly. the day that you walked into their life. passing by them in all your perfectness. your beauty, your demeanour, the small little smile that you gave them once you caught their unintentional stare. many would call it just a chance encounter. the gardens, a banquet, a mere passing interaction - but oh, you will scorn their mind for all eternity. did you feel it too? the connection that they felt? the song of your fëa, surely it was singing for them? it will drive them mad and they will be eager to meet you again. when you recognise them, their heart would sore. so you did feel the same? oh, if only you knew what you had gotten yourself into. they'll make it their life's mission to learn every little thing about you. stalking, you say? no, they're just lovingly learning more about their soulmate. now they are convinced that you are meant to be theirs. and it certainly would be unfortunate if you didn't think so too

𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆, 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒌𝒂𝒔, ulmo, vana, 𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒂, yavanna, 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏, aiwendil, 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒖𝒓��, luilire

♡. 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

you were most likely one of the few people outside of their family to show them true kindness. it felt like they were on air. that day that you aided them with something, or defended their name from others. they remember how fast their heart beat, how their song shifted to a thousand symphonies as they gazed at you with wonder. to think. . . that someone actually cared. from that day they grew hungry for your affection and favour. eager to seek you out and hope that you would continue to show them the kindness and attention that they were greedy for. you made them feel so. . . complete. they've never loved someone so wholeheartedly, so completely, until the day your touch grazed their hand and you smiled at them so warmly. they hope that you feel the same and will do just about anything to gain your attention, even if it's subtly. and should you place your attention elsewhere? you'll regret it.

𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓, aule, nessa, 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏, curumo, gothmog, osse, 𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏, almion, 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒆

♡. 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

they have known you for the longest time. it feels like they've loved you for even longer. they are one of your closest companions, the person that you turn to when in need of aid. the one that you cry on when you're sad. the one that has been with you through every good and each bad. they boast in such a fact - that they know you so intimately and that they are the person that you rely on. . . but there is a deeper sense of longing within them, a yearning for something more. they feel possessive over you. after all, aren't they your everything like you are to them? why can't you see that the two of you are meant to be together? every time you bring up someone else they feel a bit of their sanity chipping away. they'll make you see how much you need them. how much they love you. after all, if you didn't feel the same, why did you lead them on? you have to take responsibility. they'll make sure of it, make sure that you know who you belong to.

𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒐, orome, 𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒂, este, 𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒘𝒆, ilmare, arien, melian, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒆, 𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆, erulisse, 𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒆

68 notes · View notes

caliawen · 1 year

Text

Yearn and Ache

Pairing = Maglor x reader

Genre = Teen and up audiences

General ratings = angst, fluff, happy ending

Content warnings = some of this story takes place after the Oath, so Maglor is not well mentally. I don’t know if I can call it depression, but it comes close to it. There is also a very brief and implied (not explicit) mention of suicidal thoughts, so if you’re not comfortable reading that, please don’t. Your mental health is important <3

Reader’s gender = gn!reader (you/your are the only pronouns used for reader)

Word count = 4,3k

Notes = yayyy! Another fic done!! I’m actually really proud of this one! Here are the words you need to know before you start reading = melmë means ‘love’, aurë means ‘sunshine’ (in this context) and ataressë means ‘father name’

Maglor was lost. He had been for centuries now, or so he thought. He had no idea what year it was. He had no idea how many times he saw Arien go up in the sky and then leave her place for Tilion to take. His feet were calloused from years of walking on sand and his vocal cords were so damaged from his incessant singing, they ached all the time. His mind hurt all the time. Thoughts about the past hunted him every day and every night.

The ones that hurt the most were about you. Oh, how you had looked so hurt and so disappointed when he told you he had taken the oath. How horrified you had looked when you saw what he had done at Alqualondë. Tears in your eyes and hatred in your mouth, your words had hurt him more than being burned by the Silmaril.

He missed you. He missed you so much. He’d do just about anything to get to see you one last time. Even if you screamed at him that you loathed him. Even if you stabbed him repeatedly. Even if you did not acknowledge his existence. He didn’t care anymore, he only wanted to see you again. He wanted to apologize to you, beg you to forgive him for his sins and worship the ground you walked upon again.

Maglor let those thoughts fly away, for they hurt him more than words could describe. You were not the only one he missed. He missed his father. Oh, how he longed to see him again, sane and happy. He had loathed his father for dying and leaving him and his brothers alone, bound to an oath that would cause their demise. But hatred can only last so long before hurt takes its place. He wanted to be held like a child again and to listen to his father sing him lullabies to make him sleep.

Maglor sighed and let his tears fall. He deserved this. He deserved to suffer for all the pain he had caused. And yet, he found that he could not bear to think about what he had done and who he had lost.

Maedhros had been a shock to his core. He had not been healed yet from his father’s loss, and then he had lost his anchor. His big brother, Maitimo. The one who was always at his recitals with a smile on his face. The one who was just, and brave, and so, so full of life and love. The one who was the most worthy to be forgiven. Maedhros came back, of course, but not completely. Maglor would always, always be thankful to Fingon for bringing back his brother. Yet, Maedhros had lost a part of himself to the hands of Morgoth. It felt, most of the time, like a part of his fëa had been subdued, if not torn apart.

Caranthir had not been lost to them in one day. It took years, gradually, to lose him to anger and hatred. He had always been more solitary, so when he pulled away from them, they didn’t see anything wrong. Until it was too late. Caranthir was lost, lost, lost. Lost in his anger to the world. Lost in his hatred for Morgoth. Lost in his pain. Oh, how his pain was great. It was incomprehensible how Caranthir refused to get help, especially from his brothers. Maglor blamed himself. It was his duty to take care of his brothers, for even if it had always been Maedhros who took care of them, he was too weakened at the time.

Celegorm became wilder and lashed out more. He was lost in the past as much as any of them, except he didn’t come out of his memories and back to the present. He sounded so much like their father at the end… So much pain in his eyes and voice as he begged father to make it all better.. Maglor had not had the heart to tell him that Father was dead and that he was talking to him. Celegorm died, thinking his father held him in his arms, saying soothing words. Maglor had cried that day. He cried so much, Maedhros hugged him that night. They didn’t sleep.

Curufin’s fall into insanity had been the fastest and the one that hurt everyone. As soon as the day after he learned of Father’s death, he fell. Denial, denial, denial. That was what Curufin’s mind had been made of. Father wasn’t dead, he was waiting for them to save him. When asked where Father was, Curufin would lose himself in his mind and not come back for a long time. Celebrimbor was the one who kept Curufin anchored at least a little to the present. When he left, Curufin shattered. He was only the ghost of himself. One night, Curufin admitted to Maglor that he thought Celebrimbor hated him and that everything was his fault.

Maglor’s heart clenched as he thought back to the day he found Curufin’s dead body. He remembered thinking that his little brother, the one so sentimental he lashed out any time he was hurt, had died thinking his son loathed him.

The twins had died too young and Maglor did his damnest not to think about their respective death. So much innocence torn from them.. so much love engulfed by hate.. so much scars on their minds. They would never be the same. At least, Maglor thought that in death they would not be separated. At least he hoped. Surely Námo would not be so cruel? But Maglor knew the answer to that question and it wasn’t the one he liked.

Maglor sighed again and tried his best to stop thinking. Then his thoughts came back with a vengeance. He stood frozen, looking at an hallucination, for this couldn’t be real.

There, standing on the beach, was Elrond. Or at least, the hallucination looked like what Elrond would probably seem like as an adult. Elrond-hallucination started walking rapidly towards Maglor. He hugged him. Maglor didn’t bother hugging back, for when the hallucination went away, it would only hurt him more. He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

~~~

It had been a year since Elrond had found him. Maglor now understood that this was real. And if it was a dream and he was still on the beach, he didn’t want to wake up.

Maglor had met Elladan and Elrohir. They looked so much like Elrond and Elros, it made Maglor’s heart ache. They were very kind boys and spent much of their time with him.

Maglor had also seen Erestor again. At first, he couldn’t believe his eyes. One of his most devoted followers, standing here, in front of him. Then Erestor had hugged him while simultaneously insulting him and Maglor realized that Erestor was real. He couldn’t understand why Erestor seemed happy to see him. He had basically ruined his life. Why was he hugging him? Why was he not screaming at him to get out of his face?

Maglor later realized, after Erestor had insisted on talking to him everyday, that maybe, maybe, Erestor didn’t blame him.

When Maglor met Glorfindel again, they were both shocked. It had been a glacial meeting. Maglor didn’t blame Glorfindel for his reluctance to have a kinslayer in Imladris. It took Maglor by surprise when Glorfindel started hanging out with him. Maglor wasn’t very good company. He was in the healing ward all day, every day. He had lost way too much weight during his self-imposed exile and Elrond was relieved to see Maglor alive. It was almost impossible. Maglor almost wished he had died. Then again, Maglor couldn’t leave Elrond, even if he would be better off without him, because Elrond seemed happy to have Maglor around and making Elrond happy was the least Maglor could do.

Maglor and Glorfindel found themselves bonding about their shared pain of losing loved ones and of losing their innocence to the First Age.

~~~

When Elrond proposed to Maglor to go back to the undying lands, Maglor almost laughed in his face. He was healing slowly and sometimes found himself smiling slightly. However, it was impossible that the Valar would let Maglor go back to Valinor.

Maglor lost all his amusement of Elrond proposing such a thing, for he thought about you. He would never see you again. He would never see your smile, your eyes, your beautiful hair. He would never hear your excited voice telling him about your passion. He would never hear your laugh again. Never, never, never. You were lost to him and it was his fault. His fault. His fault. HIS FAULT.

He came back to the present when Elrond called his name worriedly. Maglor told him that it would be impossible for him to go back to Valinor. Elrond insisted that he wanted to try. Maglor relented. He was too tired to argue. Tired of his thoughts. Tired of waiting for something that would never happen. Tired of waiting to see the day he would see his brothers, father and you again. Yet, he wanted to think about the good moments with you.

When he went to sleep that night, he prayed for once in the longest time. He prayed to Eru to let him be selfish. He prayed that he could dream about you. About the happy moments. He prayed that he would wake up not feeling guilty about tarnishing you with his mind. He slept like a baby, but couldn’t remember what he had dreamt about when he woke up, only that it was a very pleasant dream.

~~~

One day, when Maglor felt good enough to walk, he went to the gardens. There, he met a very strange guest. He was so very little, Maglor first thought he was the child of some Dwarves. Then, as he looked closer, he saw that the strange being was old. He had white hair and wrinkles, and therefore could not be a child.

Approaching this little guest was probably one of the best decisions Maglor ever made. That day, Maglor made a friend.

Bilbo was a delight to have around. He was witty, funny and extremely kind. Maglor felt like he didn’t deserve his friendship and told Bilbo as much. The latter spent a good thirty minutes lecturing Maglor about making decisions for others and assuming they thought something without asking them. Maglor became very fond of Bilbo extremely fast.

~~~

As the day of the departure towards Valinor approached, Maglor thought much more about you. About your lips on his, about you letting him braid your hair, about fooling around together. He missed you. He yearned to see you again.

~~~

When Maglor met Gandalf, there was something extremely familiar about the wizard. Gandalf seemed amused and only kept talking to him. When Maglor realized that Gandalf was Olorín, he was shocked. What was he doing here, in Arda Marred? Maglor went to bed that night with less answers than questions. It seemed to amuse Olorín to be purposefully cryptic and mysterious. It annoyed and delighted Maglor. It had been a while since he had to think so critically to find out something. It reminded him of you.

Or, well, the riddles and play on words you’d tell each other as a game. He remembered that if you found out the good answer and what the play on the words was, he’d give you something. More often than not it was a kiss. You both laughed too much sometimes to even kiss properly. He missed you.

~~~

When the day to leave was finally here, he met Frodo, which was a very pleasant experience. Seeing Galadriel again and her husband (from Doriath, by Eru..) was not so pleasant. He spent a good hour listening to the both of them screaming at him and arguing with Elrond that ‘He cannot come with us to Valinor, he’s a kinslayer!’. When he tried to interrupt the conversation, Galadriel punched him. He didn’t blame her.

Surprisingly, the one to put an end to the debate was Bilbo. He calmly said that Maglor was going, because he was Bilbo’s friend, and Bilbo needed him to be there, for Valinor was surely going to be a very confusing place and Bilbo would need his very supportive (mentally and physically) friend to be there.

Maglor was very amused. Galadriel, not so much, for she would have to leave her husband behind for a few centuries, but be with her kinslayer cousin. Yet, she listened to Bilbo, for she had great respect and fondness for him and Frodo as well, who was of the same opinion.

~~~

Maglor found himself very grateful for Bilbo and Frodo’s friendship. They seemed completely unafraid to defend Maglor against any and all slander to his person. They (especially Bilbo) seemed to give absolutely no care that he was talking fairly rudely to Galadriel.

At first, it angered her that Bilbo would defend such a repulsive being, but in the end, she found it amusing that Maglor would never defend himself, but someone more than half his size would. Maglor was very surprised when she started teasing him, like when they were still young and innocent elflings in Valinor. He didn’t mind the change.

~~~

Maglor was very surprised that the trip to Valinor did not have any difficulties. He had expected to at least be taken by the waves from the boat. No such thing happened.

The more they approached Valinor, the more Maglor’s stomach twisted in on itself. He was nervous. Extremely so. He dreaded the moment he would set foot on land, only to find no one waiting for him, except for Námo. Surely he would be thrown into the Void.

Apparently, Bilbo heard him say something about that particular thought process and was affronted. He assured Maglor that Námo would have to pass over his dead body to do such a thing.

Maglor laughed. It was a bright and clear sound. His throat had healed much since the time he spent on the beach. He realized that while he was not happy, he was on his way there. He wondered if you would be proud of him for going from a shell of himself to whatever he was now. He promptly stopped smiling.

~~~

When Maglor set foot on Valinor, he was surprised to see all of his brothers. He also saw his mother and his father. He cried. He cried and cried and cried. In their arms. He felt safe and he felt at home. He got to introduce Elrond to his family and see them interact with each other.

He saw a woman with beautiful silver hair and recognized her from old portraits in his parents’ house. He met his grandmother that day. It was one of the most joyful moment of his whole life.

He learned that Maedhros and Fingon had gotten married (finally) and that Celebrimbor had come out of the halls to heal more in the gardens of Lórien. He and Curufin had started working together on a project again.

Caranthir was at peace and seemed much more relaxed than even before they left Valinor, which brought tears to Maglor’s eyes. Amrod and Amras acted like children, running around and screaming in joy, but no one said anything, for they deserved to enjoy small things after everything that had happened.

To see his family so happy warmed Maglor. It was also heartwarming to see them so happy to have him back.

~~~

Maglor felt good. He had met Celebrían and found out that together they had a very good chemistry. In fact, it was almost too easy to tease and embarrass Elrond when they teamed up. Elrond seemed mortified, but it was very amusing for all parties involved when Galadriel joined them. Celeborn (Galadriel’s husband, Maglor had learned) was still extremely unhappy to have Maglor near him. Maglor found that he didn’t mind the glares and suspicious looks thrown his way, for his son was here. On top of that, it seemed that Elladan and Elrohir had appointed themselves as his personal guards while he was close to Celeborn, for they would shield him from their grandfather, much to his amusement.

Erestor and Glorfindel seemed determined to annoy him to death, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he enjoyed their relentless teasing a lot, for it was a fun way to not think about you.. not that he’d ever admit it, of course. Learning that they were married was not a great surprise, but was a magnificent subject he could use to tease them.

Olórin was still as annoying as ever, but it was all in jest and made Maglor’s mood better, for what it was worth.

Maglor had seen Celebrimbor again and most of his cousins. He had been extremely surprised when Finrod had basically thrown himself in his arms. Apparently, he had no one to sing duets with and had been extremely lonely without Maglor around. Maglor was happy, if not astonished, to agree to sing with Finrod sometime.

Maglor met Gil-Galad, who was Fingon’s son and Maedhros’ adopted one. The last time he had seen Erenion, he had been but a babe, practically eating Maedhros’ hair. It was refreshing to see him, for he was all smiles and jokes.

Maglor was embarrassed to admit that he had cried when he had seen Fingon again. Maedhros, while amused, comforted his brother, while Fingon tried to cheer him up. They had eaten together and Maglor had been convinced to admit that he had cried because Fingon remade his brother. He made him happy, but most of all whole. Fingon had started crying too and Maedhros had sighed, exasperated.

~~~

Maglor had not seen you since the day he arrived in Valinor and found himself sad. Even if he knew he deserved it, even if he did not deserve you.

That day, he found himself asking his mother why no one was screaming at him when he walked in the streets of Tirion. Nerdanel explained that while no one had forgotten what happened, they were all forgiven. His father had properly apologized to every victim of the First Kinslaying and he and his brothers had done charity work for a few centuries. His mother also explained that his exile had been long and Elrond had advocated for him shortly after he arrived. His son had explained to Tirion that not even Morgoth had spent so much time alone as a punishment. It hadn’t taken long for people to feel for him and forgive him.

Maglor still didn’t feel worthy of such forgiveness. His father and his brothers had worked for forgiveness and he had only moped around for thousands of years. He went to bed feeling like trash.

~~~

Maglor spent most of his days with his brothers, cousins and son, but sometimes, he went to see Bilbo, Frodo and the wonderful new arrivants; Samwise and Gimli. Samwise was a joyful chap that never failed to bring a smile to Maglor’s face. Gimli was bombarded with questions from Fëanor, Curufin, Celebrimbor and Maedhros, much to Maglor’s amusement and Gimli’s delight. A budding friendship was developing between all of them and it was a beautiful sight to Maglor’s sore eyes.

They were wonderful company and were arguably the most wise in all Valinor. On top of Bilbo, Frodo and Samwise’s company, another amazing plus was their weird but extremely cozy and charming home. It had been constructed in the ground, kind of like a hole, and had a chimney and a round door. Bilbo had expressed the wish to have a Hobbit home in Valinor once and when prompted, had explained to Maglor how it looked like.

To express his gratitude and to thank Bilbo for all that he had done for him, Maglor had asked his father to build a Hobbit home. To say Fëanor had been delighted would be an understatement. With Curufin and Celebrimbor’s help, they designed a comfortable Hobbit home. They built it in record time, for they were all excited to build something new and foreign. Nerdanel had even insisted to give Bilbo and Frodo a gift for making her last missing son come home. She had sculpted a magnificent set of tea cups with mushrooms on them. Bilbo and Frodo had been delighted and thanked them by throwing a small feast for them.

(Celegorm had been laughed at for he had drunk too much and made a fool of himself, but that was a secret that no one would ever discover..if he kept his promise to Caranthir to wash his dirty dishes.)

One day, when he knocked on the round door of their Hobbit house, Maglor was pensive. He was still extremely sad that he had not seen you, but he was coming to accept that you were out of his life. It was probably better for you anyway. Maglor wondered if you had married someone else when he was gone. Did you have any children? Were you happy?

Maglor was startled out of his thoughts by the door opening. He was invited inside by a smiling Bilbo (whose smile was entirely too mischievous to be unsuspicious) and guided to the dining table. Maglor froze in his tracks at the view before him. There you sat, on a small chair inside a Hobbit house, looking even more beautiful than ever. Maglor almost didn’t register Bilbo saying he was going for a walk before leaving abruptly.

Your wonderfully pretty eyes looked at him. Him. He gaped like a total idiot at you. You seemed to take pity on him, for you were the first one to talk.

“Welcome home, Makalaurë.”

Your sweet voice was a delight to his ears. He looked at you, tears brimming in his eyes and sniffling a little. You got up and calmly walked towards him, before stopping.

“I-… (Y/N)..” he said, unintelligently.

“Yes…?” Your tone seemed to be teasing, yet he couldn’t understand why.

“What-…what are you doing here? I thought you hated me..?”

Your eyes visibly saddened and you made a hurt noise.

“No melmë, I could never hate you. I tried at first, and I hated the fact that I couldn’t help but love you, no matter what you had done. My anger rapidly fizzled out and I was left empty and aching, for I was so accustomed to your presence and love that without it, I was lost. I was a shell of myself, for you bring out the best in me, darling. I loved you then and I love you now, with no intention of ever stopping.”

Your words made Maglor’s tears fall down his cheeks and you made a mournful noise at the sight of them. You gently took his cheeks in your hands and wiped his tears away. His defenses were crumbling rapidly. He still thought you would be better off with someone else, even if he selfishly wanted you all for himself.

“I am broken beyond repair, aurë. You should not waste your beautiful self on me.” He said, the last word being accentuated by the disgust in his voice.

You frowned sadly and went to take his damaged hand in yours, kissing it reverently.

“I love you, melmë. I love all of you. The broken parts, the angry and sad ones, the ones that are joyful and playful, the ones full of resentment and hurt, the musical and socially pretty ones. I love you.”

You were the one who kissed him and Maglor found himself grateful for you. Grateful for all that you had done for him. Grateful for your love and patience.

~~~

Your wedding was full of emotions. At one point, Fëanor burst into tears, making Fingolfin shed a tear and in turn, everyone seeing the normally stoic Fingolfin cry, wailed out. It was kind of embarrassing for Maglor, seeing his side of the family weeping while yours looked faintly amused, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was seeing his father clinging to Míriel that made you laugh. In turn, Maglor laughed too and it was a wonderful experience to kiss you again while laughing.

~~~

Your son was born in a world full of love and happiness. Maglor had healed mentally and was proud of it, with reason. You named your son Elmaion; Son of a Miracle. Maglor gave him the ataressë Felminfinwë; Passionate Finwë. He was a joy. Especially to his grandparents, for Nerdanel almost immediately wanted to hold him, as did Fëanor. They fought often over whose turn it was to hold your son. Meanwhile, all of Maglor’s cousins (at least the ones who had forgiven him, which excluded Turgon, much to Finrod’s dismay. Finrod wanted to gush about Elmaion but couldn’t do it to Turgon for he was a ‘stick in the mud who couldn’t overcome his misplaced anger’) and brothers argued over who would be the best uncle or aunt (Maedhros and Fingon were currently winning, which was why Finrod wanted Turgon to meet the child, surely he could become one of the favorites if the child saw Turgon’s scowl).

Erestor and Glorfindel were appointed as The Babysitters, for Elmaion seemed to love Glorfindel, specifically his golden mane. Elrond was the healer that would take care of his baby brother if anything happened to him and Míriel was delighted to have another great-grandchild.

Bilbo asked for Maglor to remember him when he left, for he was the one who reunited you both, wasn’t he? The reminder that Bilbo would die one day hurt, but Maglor stayed in the present, for he wanted to enjoy Bilbo’s presence while he was still alive.

Life was full and Maglor had everything he could have ever wanted and more. Yes, the years where he was only yearning and aching were long behind him. He looked forward to the future instead of back in the past.

@theladyvanya

#the silmarillion #fluff #writing #x reader #maglor #maglor x reader #makalaure #makalaure x reader #angst #love #happy ending #this is from Maglor’s pov #jrr tolkien #tolkien #fanfic #the silm fandom

42 notes · View notes

thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 1 year

Text

Plenilune

Haldir x reader - NSFW!

Fun fact: in Tolkien's legendarium the Moon is male since it is guided by a male Maia, Tilion, while the Sun is guided by a female Maia, Arien, and is therefore female.

*****

The murmuring of the wind through the leaves is almost comforting to your ears, as if the forest wished to hearten you against the danger you have deliberately put yourself in for the thirteenth time, as you spur your mare towards your destination galloping among woods and meadows. The moon and the stars illuminate the path enough to keep you and your mare from falling, and no evil that you ought to fear has ever entered Lothlórien; but yes, you are in peril, and you don't even want to think about the consequences if he found out what you are doing.

It is late, you sadly reflect as you cover your head with your hood in the remote case someone sees you, and obviously you cannot help it, since you couldn't leave until he had gone to bed and it would take the fastest horse almost an hour to reach your destination, but still you feel yourself trembling, your heart beating twice as fast as normal with haste, and fear... and another emotion, much more pleasant, that makes you wish you had wings.

A few minutes later, you and your mare have finally reached your destination: the gates of Caras Galadhon are a stone's throw from you, the high trees surrounded by talan standing out, solemn and majestic, against the hilltops behind them. You tie your mare to the trunk of another tree, leaving her to rest after the ride and graze pacefully, and walk towards the gate, your pace slow and your arms spread to show you carry no weapon and are therefore not a danger to the city and its people: you lived here for many years and most of the guards know you, but you know how seriously they take their duty to protect the borders, and it is better for all of you to avoid an incident.

You are now close enough to discern the shapes of the two Elves on duty, both fitted with one of the great bows of the Galadhrim and a quiver full of arrows; one of them softly calls your name.

"Orophin?" you answer in the same tone, not bothering to hide your relief, even more because next to him you have recognized Rúmil, his braided hair easily identifiable in the soft moonlight; after more than a year you must have met most of the guards, who serve on rotation, and none of them has ever tried to forbid you from entering -you are pretty sure they all sympathize with your predicament and are willing to help, even if it means turning a blind eye on your visits, but still, the fact that every single marchwarden is aware of your tryst is more than a little embarassing- but you are happy to be welcomed by the only two Elves in Caras Galadhon who have been personally informed of your visits... and of the reason behind them.

The moon is full; perfect in his circular shape, he shines above you, surrounded by the stars as a lord by his courtiers. You smile as you look at him, and then step across the high gate in white wood and iron that Rúmil has opened for you. "Hannon le" you thank him softly, and he simply smiles in return, while Orophin looks around you anxiously; the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien know you personally and know you pose no danger to their people, but strictly speaking they are failing in their duties letting you in after sundown, since the gates are closed during the night, and the fewer people know you are there, the better.

There is so much at stake for them, for you, and for the one who you know is anxiously waiting for you at his talan; you don't even want to know what would happen if you were discovered, but you persist, month after month, each time the full moon rises in the sky. And one day, soon you hope, your efforts will bear fruit, and you won't have to hide anymore...

"I thought you had decided not to come." Rúmil jokes as he closes the gate, and you wink in response. "Not even if the Valar themselves attempted to stop me."

"Stop wasting time, both of you!" Orophin hisses "The sun will rise in a few hours, and (name) must have left by then; you should go now, and be careful!"

If someone heard you, they could think you are plotting some heinous crime; at first the thought amused you, since the reason that brings you to the city every plenilune goes against no law, but by now, after a whole fruitless year, bitterness has grown inside you, a vague sadness and a sense of helplessness that make it almost impossible to joke about it. You would never give up on your hopes, and you would never renounce him, but sometimes you feel trapped, powerless against the will of the Powers and that of your own body, as if your dearest dream will never come true...

You would never express those doubts in front of your friends, who promised to help you in any way they can and are deliberately failing in their duty to do so; because of this you thank them both and proceed, quickly leaving the gate behind you.

The high Mallorn trees rise up all around you, the sight of the starry sky blocked by the talan built around their trunks; large oil lamps hang from the branches, most of them dark as it is normal during the night, but another lamp is lit, a lamp whose handle is grasped by someone who is waiting at the base of one of the trees, a tree you have reached without hesitation, moving among the maze.

You see him, you see his deep blue eyes in the noble face, a joyful and relieved smile breaking over his lips as he sees you, and it is as if you are finally able to breathe after a month spent struggling for air.

"Haldir..." you murmur, breathless for much more than just the speed of your pace; he almost lets the lamp fall from his hand, and a moment later you have started running towards each other.

*****

You still remembered the day you met Haldir; he was the guard on duty at the gate, you the new handmaiden lady Galadriel had just admitted in her entourage. As he walked you to the main talan, you were immediately struck with his noble beauty, the solemn face with the hint of a smile on his lips; you spent only a few minutes together since he had to return to the gate, but in the following days, when your path crossed as you were both busy with your duties, he never failed to offer you a smile and a nod, as if you were friends. With time, you learnt to appreciate him beyond his loveliness and a quiet friendship had started developing between the two of you, but you never thought he would be interested in you, until leaving your room one day you found a folded piece of parchment waiting in front of the door, under a niphredil flower: Haldir invited you for a walk, that very night; if you accepted, you were meet him at the gate at the end of his shift.

You felt your heart bursting with happiness when, that night, you walked to the gate wearing your favorite dress, your hair brushed until it shone, and the niphredil flower behind your ear; you couldn't wait to be alone with him, and you smiled at Haldir, busy talking to the guard who had come to take over from him. He smiled back, but you didn't notice how perplexed he looked when he saw you.

"Thanks for your message, I couldn't wait for our walk. Shall we?"

"... Yes. Oh course, let us go."

You spent two lovely hours together, walking along a trail in a beech wood just outside the city and sitting next to a stream; you talked, freely as you had never done before, about your families and your dreams, your pasts and your fears. You enjoyed Haldir's company and he appeared to appreciate yours, and for you it didn't matter what would have happened after that day, if that pleasant evening would be the beginning of something special or would remain a single event to think back to wistfully, and in the end, you didn't care: those few hours under a clear blue sky, when you didn't have to worry about duties and responsibilities and were free to be simply yourself, were a treasure in their own right, and whether Haldir's invitation was extended out of friendship or something else, in the end it didn't matter: simply being with him made you happy.

In the end it was only when Haldir insisted on walking you to your room, that he confessed the truth - simply because he felt he had to, being too fair and honest to take advantage of a scam, even though it hadn't been his fault.

"I must admit... I never invited you on a walk; the message that you received was probably sent by my brothers." he confessed, too ashamed to look you in the eyes, his long hair barely covering the flush that had spread on his fair face. He told you that Rúmil and Orophin, who you knew well and had noticed him staring longingly at you, had tried to convince him to approach you. Haldir had refused, both because he was sure you wouldn't be interested and simply because he would have rather faced Melkor than tell you about his feelings, and in the end his brothers must have decided to take the matter in their own hands.

"You are lucky to have brothers who care so much about your happiness." you said, your back pressed against the trunk of the tree, the talan you shared with two other of the Lady's maidens high above you; the night was falling on Caras Galadhon, a gentle breeze caressing your hair and dress. You would have flushed, and even perhaps run away in embarrassment, but apparently Rúmil and Orophin's intervention was due to their brother's indecision, not to his lack of interest, and because of this you stayed where you were, ready to reassure him that you were happy to have spent the evening with him nonetheless... and that if he wanted to invite you again, you wouldn't have said no.

"You think? At the moment I sincerely wish my parents had stopped after having me. Please don't misinterpret, I am very happy you came and I couldn't think of a better way to spend an evening; but they shouldn't have meddled."

You almost asked him if he would have ever confessed his feelings for you, had his brothers not intervened, but in the end, what difference would it have made? Despite everything, you were grateful to Rúmil and Orophin for what they had done, but now, and from now on, the two of you would have walked at your own pace.

"I am supposed to wait on the lady Galadriel at the banquet tonight." you said in the end "Shall we have dinner together before that? If you have nothing more important to do."

Relief was clear on Haldir's fair face as he answered that no, of course not, nothing on all of Arda would have been more important than spending more time with you. Expressing his feelings didn't come natural to him, at least not before he had spent some, or a long, time with someone, which could have made the other person -namely, you- interpret that reticence as indifference, even disregard, but you didn't; you were still learning to know each other, and as any other couple you would have your misunderstandings and disagreements, but in that moment at least everything was perfect, as if you just needed to share a look to understand what you were feeling. You cared about each other, more that you could express, and that was enough.

It was beautiful, and it made you happy.

"May I take your hand?" he asked, and the question was deeper than it appeared, since friends didn't walk holding hands, but a couple who was courting did; he seemed uncertain, even shy - quite a difference from the steadfast, capable soldier you had learnt to know. That sight filled your heart with affection... and an answer you couldn't have given to him faster.

"Of course. I would love to."

You let him take your hand, you took his, and since then neither of you has ever let go.

*****

Neither of you speaks as you climb the slim rope-ladder to reach the talan Haldir shares with his brothers, identical to the many others where the guards live, in groups of two or three; wooden screens, carved in shapes of trees and animals, separate the communal area from the smaller ones reserved to each of them. As soon as the door of the large chamber, built all around the tree trunk, closes behind you, Haldir takes your hands once more, brings them to his lips, and kisses them devotedly. "You came." he murmurs, his eyes full of affection and relief; he knows your feelings, he knows that you will never give up on him and nothing, not even Melkor himself, could forbid you to go to him on a full moon night, but you know that every time he fears he will never see you again, and you will never have the family you both wish for.

He is so afraid, your Haldir, but so gentle and reverent as he holds you against him, his hand caressing your hair as you rest your cheek on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He doesn't ask whether someone saw you, after you passed the city's gate, along the way or, worst of all, as you left your village; he knows you are as careful as you can be to slip away unnoticed and to ride along hidden paths, but you both know the risk, and accept it, because being together once more, one more night, even just one more hour, is worth the most dire consequences.

"I am sorry, I am late." you tell him in the end, after you part just enough to look at each other; so many years after you have shared your first kiss he is more handsome than ever, so handsome you feel yourself shivering as his warm hands find your shoulders under your cape and run along your naked arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them. He is wearing a grey tunic with a brown leather belt, his long hair spread on his shoulder and chest; many Silvan Elves have blonde hair, but no one's is as beautiful as his, and sometimes, as you lie next to each other, your passion dormant but not forgotten, you like to play with it, braiding and running your hair through it, or rubbing it against your skin.

Maybe you will do it once more, tonight; before you have will to go.

"I had to stay until he went to bed, and he had some friends visiting, so..."

"It it all right, don't concern yourself." he reassures you, and you love him for it, because every moment you lose during those nights is a wasted opportunity, a loss you could pay dearly if you were discovered, but still he cannot stand to see you upset "I am just glad you came. Eru... you are so beautiful..."

"You have seen me wear this dress at least ten times."

"True, but I wasn't talking about the dress. My darling, my beloved flower... how I have missed you..."

Maybe the distance plays a part in it, as well as the fact that you haven't laid together often, even through you have been courting for years, or maybe not; maybe it is just that you love him desperately, with all your heart and your mind, your fëa and your hröa harmonius in desiring him, the warmth of his body, the soothing sensation of his embrace. No one could ever call you naive, and after a year you know your beloved's skin as well as yours, but, and maybe because of this, your heart is pounding in your chest as you offer Haldir your mouth, that he claims in a kiss as he holds your face in his hands.

You kiss avidly for a while, your hands moving from Haldir's strong shoulders to his back and chest to caress and stimulate and revere; he moans in your mouth, the sound lurid and heavenly at the same time, as he takes off your cape and let it fall on the floor - which betrays the state he is in, since he would never leave something, especially clothes, lying around instead of finding an appropriate place for them, tidy and even fastidious as he is. Evidently you really have an effect on him, you think pleased, so much that you make him forget himself...

"Why are you smiling as we kiss?" he asks, feigning a contrariness he is physically unable to feel; a moment later his kisses move to your neck, and the goosebumps are no longer limited to your arms.

"I am simply -oh yes, right there!- happy we are together, that is all."

"I am happy as well, my flower. And I wish... we didn't have to wait the full moon..."

You would like to jest that the moon is a capricious master, who only allows you to meet once every twenty-eight nights, and you should ask him to assume his most complete form more often, but you can't; you cannot joke about it, not anymore. This night coincides with the most fertile moment of your cycle, and this is why you have chosen it to meet; often enough to give you a realistic opportunity, as well as to alleviate the pain of your separation, but at the same time your visits to Haldir would be sufficently sporadic not to arouse suspicion - you hope. It is not much, but you make do. It seemed a good compromise when you decided on it, since you make the most of your time together, clinging to each other until you are both panting breathless, and you thought you would have achieved your goal by now.

You haven't.

You often feel as if time itself works against you, but nonetheless you take your time, savoring the intimacy and the joy of being together once more before you can taste each other's flesh. Haldir's hand has guided you behind the wooden screen that separates his area of the room from those of his brothers'. Rúmil and Orophin are on duty until dawn, and since they both respect your privacy they would never interrupt you in any case, but your beloved doesn't feel at ease laying with you if you are not as hidden as you can be: he is such a modest, demure person, and you love him for it... as well as for everything else.

"How I have missed you..." you murmur as you once more find your beloved's mouth with yours; he moans into it, his hands moving hungry and greedy on your body as those of a sculptor molding a block of clay, and this is exactly how you feel, as if you are nothing, raw, shapeless, aimless, if you are not close to him, able to touch and be touched.

Neither of you speak as your clothes start falling to the floor. You free Haldir of his tunic, and his skin is like marble in the semi-darkness around you, smooth and cool and made for you to touch and caress; he moans, his head bent backwards, as you hold his hips in your hands and fill the distance between the two of you to kiss his neck, his chest, and his stomach. You feel, as well as hear, the rumble of pleasure escaping his lips as you close yours around his right nipple, licking and sucking as you stimulate the other one with your fingertips. You love Haldir like you have never loved anything and anyone, you love his kindness and his intelligence, his sense of duty and his wit; you love his stubborness and his rigidity and melancholy. And you love his body -strong, agile, so deliciously masculine, a source of warmth and pleasure and life; you cling to it, exploring and stimulating it until he is moaning and whispering your name and his desire is presses against your belly, hard and warm.

"Please." he begs; Eru, how you love hearing him like that "Please, my darling, let me have you..."

You don't answer, but you smile, and you break the kiss to turn and offer him your back; Haldir's agile fingers make quick works of the knots of your dress, and soon the cloth is sliding down your body, and you are naked under it, no shift or undergarments, because you have so little time to spend together and you don't want to waste it taking off your drawers.

That, and he tore your favourite shift six months ago, in his haste to take it off you; mortified, he apologized and promised to replace it, you simply told him he would have to make your loss worth it.

There is awe on his face, as well as desire, as he admires you, his fingertips barely brushing against you but leaving a trail of fire behind them. "Come." he invites you taking your hand once more, and his bed -the only element present in the small area behind the screen, apart from a chest and a chair- is only three steps away, but you like being led, being welcomed to it just like he has opened his heart to you.

You have already started kissing as you lower yourself on the bed, Haldir's arms keeping you close enough that you can feel his heartbeat matching yours, your hands fiddling with his belt; you brush your hand against his hardness, and your beloved has the audacity to snigger.

"Have patience, my love; it is yours, you know it, and you can have it any time you want."

You pout. "I want it now, Haldir..." you tell him, and he kisses you once more, and tells you to "Take it, then."

Getting undressed while one is laying is not easy, but finally your beloved is as naked as you are, his fair skin pressed against yours; you take his hardness in your hands as he moans, fondling and kissing it, and in the end he asks you to stop, because it is not on your hands that he wants to spill. You let him push you on your back, and a moment later Haldir's strong body is above you, his golden hair spilling all around him; you pass your fingers through it, mesmerized, and you brush them against your breasts, and there is something so alluring, so enticing in that sight, that when your eyes met his, you know that his desire has taken over - he cannot think clearly, he has forgotten everything that is not you, and what you share, and what he will feel once he is inside you. He is the most rigorous and even-tempered person you know, devoted to his duties and able to keep his composure in times of danger and hardship, but when he is with you... especially like this... it is as if another Elf takes his place, an Elf who would be ready to forget his responsiblities and his honour for the opportunity to lay between your thighs, once more.

It is beautiful, and terrifying; and it should be a source of pride for you, but instead it humbles you, and fills your heart with awe, because you feel the same. Haldir is your intended, your future husband, your lover, your best friend, and one day he will be the father of your children; you promised him, and you promised yourself, and you will do whatever you need to make that dream come true.

You have opened your legs for him, Haldir's fingers gently caressing them as you cross your ankles on his back, giving him full access; you have surrended yourself, offering your body and your soul and your love to the one you know deserve them and will always cherish them, and that is why you don't feel it as a loss. You moan as he lowers his mouth to suck on the side of your neck, murmuring your name as he would with that of Varda, and you groan when his fingers brush against your mound, eliciting a jolt of pleasure through your body. Please, you tell him, and you don't know whether you are actually articulating the words or just thinking them, your moans and sighs betraying your desires, please take me, I need it now, I need you...

And a moment later you have him, fully and perfectly like so many times before. You are clinging to his shoulders, his name blossoming again and again on your lips as a litany, as a prayer, as the sinuous movement of his hips makes stars explode behind your eyelids. He moans your name, fierce and greedy and so loving, and you could almost cry with emotion, were you not too busy simply feeling, and you love all of it - his love, his passion, his reverence, the promise you have shared years ago and that you renew every time, without the need for words.

The fire is burning inside and all around you; and it is the kind of flames you are happy to be consumed by.

*****

It is all your father's fault.

It is not nice to say, but it is true. Your current predicament, the need for secrecy and to meet on full moon nights, everything is due to the fact that your father didn't approve of Haldir as your intended, and he explicitly stated that he would never give his consent for you to marry. Not because he dislikes Haldir, or because he considers your beloved unable to take care of you and make you happy; the reason is way more personal.

Your father and his dearest friend have always planned to have their children marry, so as to unite their families in one. As fate would have it, your father's friend has a son who is exactly the same age as you -was it deliberate, a pact that they made and that also involved their wives? Two years ago you would have considered it absurd, but now you would not put it past him- which, in the two fathers' opinion, made things easier and ensured the continuation of both of their lineages.

You knew the pact with his friend was important for your father; you just hadn't realized the lenghts he would go to see his dream come true. His friend lived too far away to make frequent visits possible, and the few times you had met, his son seemed nice enough, a good company for a walk or to sit next to at dinner; you never talked about your fathers' plans, simply trying not to bore each other. Marriage prospects were the last thing on your mind, at least until you moved to Caras Galadhon to serve lady Galadriel, you met Haldir, and he stole your heart.

You never thought your father would oppose your relationship with Haldir; you only mentioned him in your letters as a friend, since you didn't want him and your mother to come and make sure his intentions were pure and serious -they were, obviously; but you didn't want your beloved to feel he had to prove himself- but you were sure that when they got to meet him, they would love him, just like you did.

They didn't. Well, he didn't; when you, radiant with joy, returned home with Haldir to introduce him to your parents and announce you were engaged, your mother was ready to welcome your beloved in the family within ten minutes after meeting him; your father, unfortunately, was a whole different matter.

"What? Surely you are joking. You cannot pledge to marry him; you are already engaged and you know it. I was going to write you about it next month: my friend and I decided it is time for the two of you to wed. His son was going to move with you in Caras Galadhon, but since I don't want you to be... distracted by your friend here, you better leave the service of the Lady and go live with him in his village. Now, do not argue with me; I am your father and I know what is best for you."

He clearly didn't, but try as you might you couldn't change his mind, or convince him to relent. Your father was determined to get his own way, no matter how much you cried -and it was a lot, so much that it filled you with shame, particularly because it was all in vain- argued, locked yourself up in your room and threatened to hurt yourself; he had decided to have you marry the son of his friend, and that he would do, even if it meant forbidding you to leave home until you relented. Poor Haldir had to return home alone, because your father forbade you to return even just to say goodbye to your friends; he was too honourable to challenge your father's authority under his roof, or to kidnap you from your home, and your mother begged you to obey your father as a good daughter should. You grudgingly did... but still, you were determined to marry your beloved, whatever the price.

Your only real ally in the family was your sister, who sympathized with your and your beloved's plight and promised to help; in front of your father she feigned disinterest in the whole matter, so as not to arouse suspicion, but secretly she was the one who sent your letters to Haldir and received his for you, pretending to be corrisponding with her friends in other villages.

Deciding what to do was painful, and at the same time surprisingly easy. You dearly loved your father, and since you were little you had only wanted to make him proud; likewise, Haldir respected him and only wanted to be accepted in your family. But since all your hopes had been dashed, you were only allowed to leave your home if escorted by one of your parents and he was struck in Caras Galadhon, there was only one thing you could do.

Elven marriages are usually conducted in front of families and friends, and include the exchange of rings and a blessing imposed by each pair of parents on their new child-in-law. On the other hand, your people's oldest tradition has it that the union of the bodies symbolizes the union of the soul, and that the birth of a child is enough to consider a couple married on a factual, and as a consequence formal, prospective, just as the first Elves who awoke at Cuiviénen wed each other. So, you agreed as the letters were sent and received between the city and your village, this is what you would do; you would get pregnant, and then your father would be forced to recognize your relationship, for the sake of his grandchild if not for yours... and because at that point his friend would hardly accept you in his family. And if your father decides to repudiate you, throwing you in the streets and forbidding you from ever returning... you will accept it. It would break your heart, because you love him, and your mother, and you never wished to cause a rift between you, but Haldir is the husband you have chosen, the other and the better part of you, and you are willing to sacrifice it all to be with him. You knew Lady Galadriel would welcome you back among her maidens, not caring about the shame you would have brought to your family, and you and your beloved would then marry and move to a talan of your own.

It would be a nice life; a perfect life, with your husband and the first of the many children you had already planned on having. And it will be, one day, hopefully soon. It was exactly thirteen moon cycles ago that, once more with the help of your sister, you ran away during the full moon to visit Haldir in Caras Galadhon, and even though this is supposed to be your most fertile period and you make at least two attempt per night his seed still hasn't taken root in your womb. You are sure, since it is known that Elf women are able to perceive a pregnancy as soon as it begins, the first tiny sparkle of life inside them making itself known not by voice or movement, but with a peculiar sensation that nothing else in Arda can compare with; a new entity making itself known to the world, too small and young to have a gender and an appearance and a personality, but that exists... and that would be enough to change your life forever.

You and your beloved are waiting for it; dreaming it; praying for it, even, although until now your efforts have been in vain. Laying with Haldir is lovely, passionate and sweet, and you would be more than happy to keep doing it every single night until the end of the world; to share his bed has allowed the two of you to reach a new level of intimacy, to experience each other as you had never done before. It is not that you love Haldir more now that you know the pleasure his body can give yours; you have found a new way to love him, in addition to those you already knew, which is different, and more precious. For him, you know, it is the same; he awaits your visits with trepidation, already happy and excited and looking forward for when you will be unclothed, in his arms, and moaning with his flesh in yours, but you know that he would be equally satisfied if you spent those nights walking in the woods, or sitting in front of the fire talking and exchanging stories.

You would never say that for more than a year you have wasted your time, especially since these are the only moments you are able to spend together, and you miss your beloved so much; but still... why haven't you gotten pregnant already?

*****

You sigh, happy and satisfied, as you turn on your back, sharing a smile with Haldir, panting by your side. "It was... it was absolutely..." you begin, but the words fail you, because even after a whole year, you cannot describe exactly how you feel, how he makes you feel, the joy and the pleasure you experience and that you know no one else could ever give you, because no one is like him, no one is him, and you are blessed to have met him, and earned his love.

"It was." Haldir agrees, as he once more takes you in his arms to hold you close; he kisses your brow "And it always will be, I promise."

You should leave soon, since you need to be at home before your parents awake and notice you are gone -and unfortunately your father is the earliest riser you know!- and you both know it, but you don't move, your cheek resting on Haldir's chest as his fingers gently run through your hair. You don't need to be as close as the two of you are to know the same thought is filling both of your minds, the same thought that has tormented you for a whole year now...

"Do you feel... something?" Haldir hesitantly asks in the end, and you sigh; he doesn't blame you, and the guilt and the disappointment weighting on your heart are probably even worse than what he feels, but still, in that moment, despite all the joy and the pleasure still warming your body, you feel so ashamed you cannot even look him in the eyes. You don't know exactly what you are waiting for since you have never been pregnant before, how it will feel to know that you have conceived, but of one thing you are sure: that right now, satisfied and happy and aching in the most pleasant way as you are, you feel exactly as before, exactly as you did at the end of the previous twelve attempts: empty.

You have failed. Again.

A sob escapes your lips, a sob that Haldir is too close not to hear, but you still try to hide your face against his shoulder. "I am sorry. Haldir, forgive me, I don't know what I am doing wrong..."

"No, no... It is not..."

"I started drinking a tea that is supposed to render a maiden more fertile, it tastes disgusting but I drink it every day, I swear, I don't know what else..."

There is no accusation or resentment in your beloved's bright blue eyes, only understanding and sadness, and that is enough to make you feel the worst Elf on Arda, undeserving of his love, undeserving of the joy of motherhood.

"Maybe the fault is mine." Haldir whispers in the end, his hand on your cheek "I know these things require time, and we have only one night every moon cycle to try, but if I were able to... if I had to rest less... maybe three times is not enough..."

"My darling, you have to rise at dawn to go on patrol; you need rest. What we do cannot hinder your duties as marchwarden."

"I know, I know..."

He looks so dejected, so guilty and disheartened, that you find yourself forgetting your sadness to try and alleviate his.

"Listen to me; we have no reason to feel guilty, since we are doing everything we can; as you said, it takes time to conceive a child, and we cannot let disappointment and bitterness make us forget how lucky we are. We love each other, and we are together, albeit just for a few hours; just for that, I am grateful."

"If we had a child, though, we could be together without having to hide." Haldir points out; but then he smiles "But you are right; we will keep trying for as long as we need to, and in the meantime we will enjoy the time we can spend together. I cannot wait to give you a child, to raise a family together... but I just need to be with you, and to know that you are mine, to be happy."

"I am, Haldir; and I always will be, I promise."

In the end you are forced to leave your beloved's bed and get dressed; Haldir needs all the rest he can get, but as always he rises with you to walk you to the gate. You don't talk as you leave the talan behind you, your hand in his, the quiet murmuring of the night holding you in a gentle embrace. You love moments like this, when words are not needed, a simple moment is a treasure, and every little gesture speaks about you. You would stay here for hours, just enjoying your beloved's company and the beauty of the night, but the full moon has already started his descend towards the horizon: it is time to go.

Rúmil and Orophin look at you expectantly as you reach the gate, but they are quick to pretend to be otherwise occupied when they notice the lack of joy and relief on your faces. You smile, and

"We will try once more." you tell them, as Haldir kisses your temple.

"We will try for as long as we need to."

You and your beloved say your goodbyes with a long hug, and a last kiss. "Be safe." he tells you, and you nod, too busy committing his face, his scent, the feel of his arms around you, to memory, to talk. A minute later you have passed the gate, alone once more but not lonely, disappointed but not sad; you had a night with him, and you will have another on the next full moon, and that is enough.

You wave your hand in farewell, and he responds in kind, before stepping away and letting the darkness of the night surround you.

TAGGING @starlady66 and @elvenenby. Hope you like this!

#The Lord of the Rings #The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings #The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers #Haldir of Lorien #Haldir #Craig Parker #Bellona's stuff

28 notes · View notes

animatorweirdo · 2 years

Text

Imagine Mairon manipulating you to his side.

(So I might have slightly turned this into Celebrimbor x reader x Mairon. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted, but the idea expanded a little. Also, sorry, I might have turned this darker than expected, but I hope You still like it. Be aware of the warnings thought,)

Requested by Anonymous

Warnings; Please be warned! There might be triggering things in the end which includes manipulation, stalking, creepiness, gaslighting most likely and a bit violence. Sauron is a brick in this. So read on your own accord.

-------------------------------------------------------------------- -You thought you could forget the past, leave it all behind and forget it ever happened.

-Why would you linger in the past? Your master was gone, and everything got destroyed in the war of wrath.

-Angband was no more, and you had no idea what happened to others.

-There was nothing for you, so you decided to leave and live among the people as a nameless nobody.

-You were just another elf, going on with their day, doing work and sleeping whenever Tilion shone brightly in the night sky.

-You were just a silent weird neighbor nobody thought about much.

-You were happy with it because no one would then try to pry into your life and discover you used to be a servant of Morgoth.

-It would most likely end up badly for you.

-You sometimes wonder when things were peaceful, and you willingly served Irmo in his gardens.

-Irmo was never a terrible master like how Melkor made the Vala appear to others.

-You wonder if he was still angry for what you did or disappointed when you deserted the blessed realm and became one of Melkor’s servants.

-You didn’t know, and after everything that happened. You didn’t want to know.

-You were too afraid to face Valar's judgment for your actions.

-You were a coward. You have always been a coward and honestly not proud of it.

-You tried to move on with your life. Go to work, go home and occasionally meet people.

-It was boring at first, but you soon learned to find beauty in things and appreciate the peace. It was better than the metallic bangs of hammers and screeching of orcs you used to hear in Angband.

-Interacting with the children of Illuvatar was troublesome at first because you couldn't stop thinking about how you were used to killing them upon your master’s request.

-Honestly, you never thought lowly of them like many others of your kind. Elves were troublesome during the first age because of the Silmarils. Everyone went crazy for them. However, they had their qualities. Humans were not much like the elves, and you pitied them when they were easily swayed by false words, but at least some of them were good. You don’t have much opinion about dwarves, but you admit they were a talented bunch.

-You didn’t make many friends, and you didn’t have any motivation to befriend anyone. You did manage to befriend a human child who was a neighbor at your place. You technically started looking after them since the parents constantly fought.

-You never understood why humans were so careless toward their younglings.

-One day, during a little walk with your little human. You were doing nothing but talking about life.

-You came to a garden and dozed off for a moment before hearing something fall into the water and the little one yelling for help.

-You quickly went to help them out, then another elf appeared and helped the child out of the deep fountain.

-When the child was safe, it didn’t take long for you to recognize Celebrimbor and awkwardly stumble with your words as you tried to thank him and apologize for the trouble.

-Celebrimbor just smiled and wanted to make sure the child was alright.

-You two chatted for a while since he was curious about an elf with a human child.

-You tried to keep the conversation casual, but you were sweating inside because you knew his family too well and knew what kind of things happened to one of his uncles.

-You hoped it was just a one-time encounter. However, that didn’t seem to be the case because fate seems to bring you to him even from work.

-He sometimes made small talk, and the conversations lasted because you didn’t want to be rude to him.

-He was pleasant company, to say at least, and gradually you started looking forward to interacting with him.

-However, the human child always decided to invite him to join your little hangouts

-They said it was to help you get close because it was clear that you liked him.

-You did not understand till you forced yourself to think about it.

-Celebrimbor’s beaming smile was like a ray of Arien’s light, and he seemed eager to meet up and spend time with you and your little human friend.

-He didn’t even think it was strange that ravens and crows followed you or how you sometimes talked with them since they were your favored companions.

-He asked if he could pet or feed one of them.

-And he sometimes opened up about his past to you and the regretful things his father and family had done.

-It was maybe the last straw because you wanted to comfort him, but you were scared because he shared the same feelings for you.

-You sensed it from his fear.

-The thought of love was frightening. It was a sign of weakness, and you would have been mocked for falling so low, especially with one of the Eldar.

-You were afraid because of your past, but since the past was long gone. The future looked brighter, so you tried to embrace the feeling.

-You wondered if Melian felt the same when she decided to marry that Sindar elven king.

-You weren’t sure how to reciprocate the feelings, but you tried. You end up listening to Celebrimbor’s voice most of the time when he spoke about things. His voice was soothing and always managed to bring a soft smile to your face.

-Oddly, you started having dreams about life with Celebrimbor. They were bright and filled with good things and love. It felt like they were encouraging you to go forth and confess your feelings for him. It was strange, and you wondered if lord Irmo was behind them.

-One time, the little human bugger decided to tell how you and Celebrimbor were like parents they always wanted. You felt embarrassed, but Celebrimbor smiled it off and described how it did feel like you two were like family to him.

-It warmed your heart, and it was just a moment when you realized how you fell hard for this elf.

-You didn’t like to admit it, but you now needed to thank your little human friend for bringing you two close.

-Until he arrived.

-He took a fair form and called himself Annatar, the lord of gifts. He claimed to be sent by the Valar to assist the Noldor and grant them forgiveness, but you knew the truth the first time you saw him.

-You could recognize those golden eyes everywhere, and there was a shadow that followed his fair appearance.

-You were frightened, especially, when he laid his eyes upon you.

-You tried to avoid him because you knew you held no power against him and Celebrimbor already deeply trusted the Maia.

-You hoped he didn’t come for you. You were a mere spy and an assassin. You had nothing against Mairon, the lieutenant of Melkor.

-Except for that one time when you rescued him from being killed.

-Mairon almost died until you used your powers to turn every living creature who looked at you into stone.

-The power of your gaze might have made you different from others, but you left everything behind after that.

-You didn’t want to know what he was planning.

-You stayed home most of the time. Celebrimbor often came to check since you started feigning illness to avoid going out. It pained you to worry him like that, but you deemed it necessary.

-He talked a lot about Annatar and all the great things he helped him to create.

-You were scared to tell him the fair messenger of the Valar was in reality, the cruelest servant of Morgoth, but you tried to convince him to be weary. You attempted to tell him all the possible dangers and lies Annatar might have told him.

-Celebrimbor being the lovable fool was sure things were okay but promised to consider your worries.

-You decided to come out because you couldn't hide forever. There was a slight chance Mairon did not remember you since he often preferred to be held above others. It proved to be a grave mistake because he or Annatar turned his attention on you.

-He spoke softly and like you two were old acquaintances, which was a painful truth.

-You two never spoke like friends, but he did acknowledge you whenever you returned to Angband to deliver reports or trophies of your kills.

-You remained polite but tried to keep things short whenever you interacted with him.

-But, he was like a snake. Slithering close to you and talking sweet and casual things to bring down your guards, which you luckily didn’t.

-However, he started interfering with you and Celebrimbor during your time alone and when you try to avoid showing him your relationship with Celebrimbor.

-You almost cursed Celebrimbor for referring you as a dear friend and technically giving it away to the pretender.

-Annatar seemed amused and looked at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

-The charade continued, and now Annatar started calling you little raven when he saw you interact with your birds.

-He continued to unnerve you, and the way he interacted with Celebrimbor worried you, so you sent a couple of your ravens to keep watch if he tried something with Celebrimbor.

-You should have been more careful. You managed to avoid the pretender most of the time and stayed at a safe distance, but this time he had managed to find your home and put you in a critical situation.

-You found him reading a story to your little human friend, and the child was too invested to realize they were in danger.

-Mairon hated humans. He always gave worse punishments to human thralls in his possession. He wouldn't even hesitate to harm a child.

-Luckily, you managed to convince your little human friend to go home while keeping your eyes on the Maia in your house.

-When you were alone, he showed his true nature, and you two started talking.

-You remained silent and respectful since he was still your superior.

-Mairon asked what your plans were, and you told him you didn’t have any plans. You just lived among the elves like one of them.

.-He knew that and told you it would be a waste and asked you to join his side.

-It caught you off guard, but you tried to keep your guard and questioned what he would gain from you.

-Your mind couldn't catch up when he kept talking, but you wished you escaped while you had the chance because the one in danger was you.

“I do not understand,” You said, almost in a whisper. “Why are you so adamant to have me on your side?” You asked.

“Because I can see the bad end for you,” Mairon started. “You will face suffering if you decide to take this path,” He said. You frowned. “What?” You questioned.

“I wish to save you like you once saved me from those vassals of the valar,” He said, making you remember the moment when you uncovered your eyes and turned those soldiers into stone to save his life. You now silently regretted the decision. Two of your ravens watched the confrontation from the closed window.

“I…” You started. “I can assure you that I do not need to be saved,” You explained while hopelessly trying to control your fear. “But why hide among people?” Mairon asked. “Why hide your true form and powers? Why so afraid to show them who you truly are?” He questioned. “I’m not…” You tried to find the words, but the questions caught you off guard that you weren’t sure about your answer. “But you are afraid, aren’t you?” He asked, looking into your eyes.

You remained quiet because, in your mind, you knew he was right.

“You shouldn't be afraid to show yourself. Our master favored you for your loyalty and work, so don’t you think you deserve better than what these elves can offer you?” Mairon asked, walking around you like a predator. “I was not… his favored. I only did what he told me to do,” You explained with a surprised tone for a moment. “Oh, but you were, out of all spies and assassins in his army. Your ravens and you were the most efficient,” He said. “So, you should think more highly of yourself than you do now;” He finished. You thought about his words for a moment.

“If you join my side, you don’t need to hide, and I can offer you better things than this little elven city can give you. Do not stoop to their level because our master is gone,” Mairon said softly. You mustered the courage to look at him. “Why? I have never put myself above anyone, and I never thought lowly of any children of Illuvatar,” You explained. “And…” You struggled for a moment. “I know they made some troubling things during the first age, but they can learn. And they’re not that bad,” You said.

“Not that bad, you say?” Mairon questioned. You shrank when you sensed the lowering tone in his voice and noticed a hint of disappointment in his eyes after what you said.

“Tell me, is this about your feelings for that elven lord?” Mairon asked. Your heart started beating anxiously, as you knew he meant Celebrimbor. You felt frozen that you didn’t know how to answer. Love has always been seen; as a sign of weakness.

“I have seen how fondly he looks at you, so is it love you crave from him?” Mairon asked. “Have you forgotten what you are and how you used to kill his kind without hesitation?” He asked. “No, I don’t!” You shook your head. “What will he think when he finds out you used to serve the dark lord who killed and enslaved his people? And how you watched when we tortured one of his family members?” He asked, coming dangerously close.

“Do you think he will accept you and all will be forgiven?” He asked with a demanding tone. “No, I-!” You didn’t get to finish when Mairon suddenly grabbed you by the throat and pushed your back against the wall. Your ravens cawed anxiously.

You winced when your back slammed hard against the wall. “Do you think that elf would love a murderer?” Mairon looked down upon you. He always stood taller than you or anyone, so your body almost started to shake with fear.

You snapped your eyes open and stared right back at him with deep blue eyes with slit pupils. Heavy breaths escaped your lips as you tried to stand your ground. Mairon’s expression softened. “There they are. That unique gaze that would have turned me to stone if I was weaker than you,” He said, bringing your chin up to have a better look at you. He then chuckled and looked down at his wrist around your throat. You had a grip on his hand with black claws that went through his skin, making him bleed onto the floor.

“This is what I am trying to save you from,” He said, freeing his hand from your throat. “Denying yourself and dooming yourself on a path that will only lead to a painful rejection from the world,” He explained, stepping back. “I’m afraid Celebrimbor will have second thoughts if he saw you like this and that human you, so adore. How do you think they would react when their favorite elf is someone from the nightmares?” He asked. You tried to keep yourself steady. Even though; it felt impossible.

Mairon leaned down to your ear. “I can protect you from all that, little raven. I can protect you from the world that will eventually turn its back on you because the past is not dead to them. They will unjustly punish you for your crimes even when you tried to redeem yourself,” He said softly. You silently sucked your breath as his words lingered in your ears. “Of course,” He pulled back. “That is your decision if you still think they aren’t that bad,” He said, then walked toward the door.

“My doors are open for you because I’m not someone to leave my rescuer in trouble, but I hope you think about my offer. The world is harsh, so think what is truly best for you,” Mairon explained. “I will see myself out till next time, little raven,” He said, then walked out of the door.

After the door closed, you fell along the wall on your knees. Your eyes turned back, streaming with tears as you tried to control your sudden breathing. You clawed your hair, unable to control the sudden burst of emotions that caused nothing but pain.

Your two ravens opened the windows by themselves and landed beside you. They cawed, trying to offer their comfort.

Mairon’s words lingered in your mind, taking effect on you. He sounded like Melkor when you accidentally murdered one of your fellow maiars with your gaze. He convinced you to join his side because he was the only one who could protect you from the harsh punishment of the Valar. You were frightened, so you said yes because you wanted protection.

You wanted to be safe. You want to refuse the offer, but you could not stop thinking about how things would turn out badly when Celebrimbor learned the truth about you. The hate is justified, but you fear it would be too much to handle since you had feelings for him.

You stared at the ceiling for a moment, the voices in the back of your mind telling you to take the offer and save yourself from hurt. You were a murderer. You don’t belong among the people of middle earth. You have followed orders all your life, so why refuse them now?

You took a deep breath, despairing how your future would turn out.

Mairon has always been a ferocious wolf, and you were afraid. He had already ensnared you into his teeth. You couldn't escape him.

#silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #silmarillion headcanon #celebrimbor #celebrimbor x reader #celebrimbor headcanon #sauron #mairon x reader #mair'on headcanon #maia reader #morgoth #tolkien #silm fic #silmarillion scenario #middle earth x reader #middle earth

142 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 2 months

Text

The Ainur | With A Short Reader

Request: Can I make a request for headcanons for how the Ainur would be with a short human reader? Around 5 foot tall? Like an elf of about 6 feet would only reach up to some of their chest or lower still, considering they’re like 7-9 foot tall. Would they be cute, teasing, protective, frustrated by the height difference? P.s. I love the way you characterise all the Ainur, it really feels like their personality, you do a fantastic job. - anon

A/N: Happy to fulfil this request and learn that you enjoy my characterisations of them anon. I tend to envision the Ainur as nothing less than nine feet since they are deities and display their power through their heights. So you’re going to appear super short next to them. Nonetheless, Enjoy!

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Manwë

The bird was too stunned to speak. Are you a child or dwarf, certainly that could not be your final height at the end of your growth? Unfortunately, it is your complete height which makes you appear as a little bird before the great King. Now his nickname ‘little bird’ makes more sense.

He cannot fathom how you can be the same size as a bean and packed with all that sass whenever he mentions how tiny you are. You require a ladder if you ever reach his head for a ‘level-headed’ talk.

Has no issue picking you up with one hand and carrying you around like his personal comfort toy when he’s having a bad day. Anyone commenting or teasing gets a look that speaks about them receiving a bolt of lightning.

Let us not forget his avian side which is going to fawn over how adorable you are. You’re tiny and squishy, perfect for belonging in his nest where he can shower you in affection all day long.

The size difference is outstanding. Just picture a baby lying in their parents' bed, looking like a little nugget among the pillows…that’s what you appear like anytime you snuggle in his bed. On numerous occasions, he didn’t see you and almost squished you under the sheets.

With your size, it means wearing his robes and marching around his room or Ilmarin pretending to be him while he silently watches from afar. You are drowning in his robes, don’t even wear his shirt, it’s a gown on you.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Irmo

Your size doesn’t change the way he’s going to shower you with ultimate love and affection. Apart from the minor teasing he’ll conduct for the fun of the situation, Irmo loves you the same way if you are tall.

A gentleman who enjoys using the opportunities when granted to lift you over puddles or streams so he can fawn over how you fit in his arms. He (and the others) can lift you with his pinkie and has done it before.

You are authorised to always sleep on his chest—you look like a kitten sleeping on his chest in his eyes—mainly because you like to roll and so does he and nothing good has arisen from you both rolling together.

Gets lost in crowds and he panics. He’ll be walking around asking if anyone has seen his little lover and he will give descriptions. “They’re about 5 feet, this short and very tiny. They look like an elfling…”

Saw children’s clothing on a walk with you in a boutique, did not know they were for children and excitedly stated, “Oh look! I believe these would look lovely on you! They even have your colours.”

Do not be upset with him, he didn’t know that it was children’s clothing. Irmo only wished to share the moment of shopping with you. But worry not, he gathers the best seamstresses and tailors to fashion you the finest wear that looks nothing like children’s clothes.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Námo

Has a smile on his face anytime you take the lead and walk in front of him, hence his reason for always telling you to lead the way. He’s a simple Vala, he wants to watch as you waddle like a duck with your short legs as you take him to Eru knows where.

Pretends to complain when you ‘borrow’ his robes because you missed him, but gushes mentally at the sight of how you’re drowning in his forever monochromatic black robes.

His viridian eyes were soft at the sight of you walking around, dragging his robes all over. The idea of complaining about getting them dirty has disappeared, and all he is thinking about is how you look like a penguin.

Your feet running across his halls are the equivalent of tiny pitter-patter and it’s how he can easily distinguish your presence; just listen for the tiny footsteps. But it never works out well when you’re among elves and lost in a crowd.

The first time you met his brother, Irmo mistook you for a child Námo adopted and congratulated his brother on softening up to the idea of children. To make matters worse, you played along—much to Námo’s annoyance—and clung to his arm, calling him ‘atar/daddy’.

Irmo was elated, you were dying of laughter and Námo was contemplating his life. He couldn’t believe this was the humour he signed up for the moment he fell in love with someone shorter than most individuals.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Ulmo

Mistook you for the child wandering the shores the first time he saw you in the distance and scolded you for playing in the deep waters without parental supervision. That was until he learned you weren’t a child and your permanent height for a lifetime.

‘Pebble’ was the most suitable nickname he gifted you since pebbles were small and cute…like you. Plus, he brings you pebbles, seashells and pearls from the ocean floor as a token of affection.

Because you’re smaller, your strokes as you swim alongside him are slower, so he’ll call the seals, dolphins or whales to swim alongside you for assistance. You’re even allowed to ride them anytime you two are swimming out in the depths.

Since Ulmo’s true form is staggering, he opts to appear around the same height as you are anytime he has to walk the earth. His favourite place to have walks would be the beach obviously.

Hand holding while watching the sunset and he’s quietly staring at your short fingers holding his larger hand. He loves holding your hand to fawn over the size. He would even slip on a cute ring with a pearl one day.

Because Ulmo is known for having no resting place as he wanders the waters of the world, he enjoys visiting your home. It’s even better if you live near a lake for him to have easier access to seeing you frequently. Cue Ulmo marvels at how small your household items are as he picks them up.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Oromë

Congratulations, you are the perfect size to sit on all of his creatures (and him) to ride through the forest with him. He cannot get over your tiny figure because he knows that you’re about the same size as an elfling and all his creatures are larger than you.

Roughhousing is a thing that occurs between you both and he gets caught up in the experience to forget how easily he can send you on a trip to Estë for healing…because it has happened multiple times.

Picks you up like a sack of potatoes and slings you over his shoulder when he has to carry you somewhere and you’re being troublesome, or he wants to randomly surprise you. You’re as light as a feather as he runs with you through the forest.

Swinging from his muscular arms anytime he flexes his muscles for you? Yes, yes you do, and he loves it. Fuels his ego to know that he’s strong and his lover can climb him like a tree. Clinging to his muscular physique and probably biting him? Yes, you do that he calls you a tiny beast who needs to be tamed.

Not the type to underestimate the size of a creature you can ride because of your size but is also cautious at the same time. Wanted to gift you a Shetland pony because you were small enough to ride one, but back out last minute knowing that he would receive an earful. Gave you a giant-sized tiger or dog as a companion.

You wear his pelts and pretend to act like him, attempting to wield his bow—sweetheart, you couldn’t even draw the strings—as though you were hunting.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tulkas

No different from Oromë and will playfight with you using the strength in his pinkie finger and you’d still have to bandage some body parts because accidents happen all the time. No worries though, he praises your injuries and makes you feel as though you fought a great battle with him.

He has no doubts, dismisses your strengths and associates them with your size having seen many great warriors display outstanding strengths and feats despite their size. Instead, he encourages you to take pride in your size and all the greatness you can accomplish.

You got a workout buddy, or rather he got a new dumbbell to lift or someone to sit on his back for push-ups. Your weight is inconsequential, but it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the fun in the moment.

Also picks you up like a sack of potatoes and carries you around the place, introducing you to all his close friends and elves. Anytime you need to speak ‘eye-level’ with him, instead of going to lengths to climb tables or a tree, he’ll kneel to your level.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Melkor

Getting called dwarf, child, or both the first time you meet will result in him changing the names and calling you a critter if you attempt to attack him for calling you short. Probably ‘ankle biter’ might be your new name because he denoted that small things have the most rage.

You’re a ferocious ankle-biter in his eyes whose nerves he enjoys getting on because your responses are hilarious. It’s all in jest…or maybe not.

Nothing of his will ever fit you, that also means trying to wear his crown with the Silmarils. It’s currently sitting on your neck as we speak. All you can do is make versions of his outfits tailored to your size.

You’re smaller, so his hands can cover your entire face. Know what that means? Squish your cheeks as you speak to admire how soft and dough-like they are. “Hm, ankle biter, you have remarkably soft cheeks,” he says while squishing your face.

There’s nothing you can climb on to meet his height because he makes sure that there isn’t anything around. He wants you to break your neck looking up at him (bite his ankles and he’ll reach your height).

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Eönwë

“You’re like a hummingbird minus the speed,” he chuckled upon the first sight of your tiny figure. You were lucky he didn’t consider you a lost child who wandered before him in search of help because he was ready to call you ‘child’.

I have to say, Eӧnwё is the best person to try the same ‘daddy’ prank on when you’re walking through the streets of Valimar but clinging to him and acting like a child for the elves to fawn over how adorable the interaction is. There is always an elf who inquires for you to look them in the eye and say, “This is my atya!”

His avian side adores your tininess; and makes you all the more delicate and squishable. You are never again going to leave the nest…just joking, but his protective side goes up a notch because you are TINY.

I mean, he loses you in a crowd easily and you can’t even jump high enough to show your location. You can climb a table or chair but still have to get past the sea of heads before Eӧnwё spots you.

Gets you the smaller version of everything so you don’t have to struggle with holding the larger objects. He once watched as you climbed a chair as if it were a mountain or fought with a glass of wine because the glass was too big to hold.

At least going on flights doesn’t change whether you’re extra small or bigger. Visits in the morning and takes you to watch the sunrise over the mountain from a bird’s eye view.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tilion

Doesn’t matter if you’re tiny or tall, you still look the same from his view in the sky as he guides the moon. But he does melt at the sight of you looking up at the moon.

You are forever his ‘little deer’ even though you’re probably feisty and love to bite or nibble on his arms all the time. Similar to Oromë, carries you around like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder, but more for the fun of watching your short legs dangle.

Doesn’t alter the size of any furniture so he can observe your legs dangling over the edges and sway, or the size difference between you and the table designed for a nine-foot entity.

Roughhousing is a constant must-have between you both because he adores pinning your smaller body under his and making you fight back. Tilion just wants to watch you struggle and wiggle like a worm. Bite him.

Puts you to sleep on top of him because it is the safest option unless you want to be crushed under a giant nine-foot Maia, and you look like a tiny kitten curled up on his chest. The only thing he hasn’t done is pick you up by your scruff.

He’s such a tease when it comes to you both riding through the forest. Tilion will purposefully place you behind him so you can’t see a thing and then tease you about being too small. But it’s all in jest because he’ll have you ride an elk or reindeer or even a pony that was handpicked to match your size.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Mairon

He also assumed you’re an ankle biter as well because he called you short and you were ready to attack. Please, do not release him from your tyranny because he will make fun of your height and pat your head or rest his arm atop your head when he’s resting. Again, bite him.

Complains about your short legs and how slow you are when you’re walking side-by-side but comes to you later to ask for assistance because some tool of his fell into a small hole and you’re tiny enough to get it.

Tells you that he’ll feed you to his wolves if you don’t stop clinging to him when in truth, he loves it. You’re small enough to not be a distraction as he moves about his forge or the fortress, but it’s just Mairon being a tsundere.

Doesn’t see you lying in his bed because his bed is huge and you’re extra small, so he almost lies atop your body. It’s turned into a staring match like how children stare you down without blinking.

Has a tendency to carry you around, for funsies, by holding onto your belt or grabbing the back of your clothes so you dangle as he powers through the corridors until he arrives at his Lord holding you like a briefcase.

Deep down, as much as he teases your size, he enjoys the differences. Watching you fight to lift an object made for his size or dress in his clothes—if you’re brave enough to try this—is entertaining.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster

141 notes · View notes

cilil · 11 months

Text

Hope you enjoyed the recent possessive!Valar x reader headcanons and imagines! I thought it might be cool to focus on the Maiar for the next one, so:

Note: I will pick 3-5 total, with your top choices plus the ones I chose myself. And yes, Eönwë is not on this list because he falls into the latter category <3

#polls #my polls #cílil's quick queries #silmarillion #ainur #maiar #tilion #arien #ilmare #ilmarë #osse #ossë #uinen #mairon #sauron #gothmog #do note that the latter two especially will cause the rating to go up and accumulate a couple of content warnings

25 notes · View notes

edensrose · 1 year

Note

hi darling <3 could I request vamp! Tilion with the "you're not just the friendly gentleman/lady, are you?" prompt and a mortal reader who's managed to get into where Telperion is kept? (whether she's a spy, is there for personal reasons or straight up lost lol, Tilion finds her) 👀👀

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ tilion ⠀〳 human!reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. long have you awaited this day — where you would reach your goal and avenge your loved one. but it seems that a new friend of yours has other plans. ( blood mention ៸៸ biting ៸៸ mentions of humans used as blood bags ៸៸ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌! 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 )

· ⊰ note. to kick off the vampire au we have a request from my darling writing wife<3 hope you enjoy!

˙ ˖ lore post ៸៸ character sheet ៸៸ masterlist

Humans and vampires were like oil and water.

Never mixing, and sure as hell not friends.

Yet on the rare occasion, humans would mingle in the affairs of night crawlers. Rather, vampires in the Royal Court would prefer to have a walking blood bag than venture out into the world to feast on the son of man. Smaller villages that were well aware of their existence and feared them most, eventually came up with a solution: to offer a handful of young, healthy, sons and daughters — to not only live in the Court and be their breakfasts, lunches and suppers — but to also aid vampires in the more mundane, tedious affairs of the human world.

When you turned the appropriate age of adulthood your village had roped you into the decade’s next supply for their blood-thirsty overlords and shipped you off to the palace. Ebony stone and lavish, candle-lit hallways awaited you. Paintings of old, sculptures of the talented and decorations of the rich adorned the interior of their domain. You expected something large, of course, but this was on a whole other level. Magnificent in every right. A part of you even began to believe that this was a hoax, a mere underhanded arrangement for your village to sell off a few of their own every ten years for wealth. Now that you stood before the red carpets, silver accents and crimson, beady eyes; you knew in your heart that this was reality.

Perfect.

You would merely bow your head and curtsey before the vampires — yet as you face the spruce-wood floors, your smile would remain inconceivable.

Never, you promise.

Never will these demons know of your true intentions here.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⊱· ❀ ·⊰

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You certainly took your time.’’

A voice dripping honey and laced with playfulness tickles your eardrums. You glance up from your ink and parchment briefly to force a smile onto your lips. Or at least, you tell yourself it is forced as you discreetly slip a note into the drawer of your desk.

“Tilion,’’ you sigh with jesting exasperation and turn back to your quill. “You know, for a royal guard, you certainly have too much time on your hands. Slacking off, are you?” You could feel the roll of his eyes and his chuckle brought forth a swell of warmth in your chest. Goosebumps rise on your skin when cold arms wrap around your shoulders and silvery strands tickle your cheek. “Is it a crime to check up on my favourite human?”

Favourite human. A title you had earned throughout your stay here. Tilion was different from his kin. Looney, comedic relief and far from the stern faces and constipated looks that other vampires around the palace wore like silver jewellery. You quickly gained favour from the higher-ups due to your ability to read and write, thus, you were sent on various tasks and missions into the human world. Documenting what you saw and relaying important information — apart from your default blood bag status.

The first time you were bitten was absolute agony. Unfortunately for you, you caught the eye of a pureblood because of your pretty face and demeanour. You would quickly learn the difference between the fangs of a pureblood and their lesser selves: halfbloods.

Perhaps you should be grateful for the title of favourite human to Tilion. You rarely faced the threat of his fangs. Initially, you assumed that his friendship was merely a ploy. A small game with his food before he sunk his teeth in. Needless to say, you were pleasantly surprised when the bubbly, sometimes goofy vampire only sought your companionship. It lessened the load of your ‘duties’.

And made your job so much easier.

“What brings you here today?’’ You question before turning back to your note-taking. Scribbling down accounts of your short time in the human world. From the corner of your eye you observe his mannerisms, hoping that whatever it is that he was here for, it wouldn’t take too long. Let alone result in him plopping himself onto your desk and rambling on for hours. Whilst most nights you would entertain him, today was different. You had other work to attend to. Free from the watchful eyes of any vampire.

A sacrifice, that is what you and the other humans were dubbed. Little did they know that one particular sacrifice would lead to spilt blood, and ironically, not that of the blood bags.

Long had you been aware of the existence of vampires — and long have you craved vengeance for their reign of terror on the mortal world. Especially after the passing of your beloved friend to their powerful, cruel clutches. You worked hard to ensure that you were the main pick of the village for that decade’s batch of humans. Wormed your way into the palace and sucked up every ounce of pain that you were put through in order to make it to where you sat now. A map, that you deciphered, in your drawer that would lead you to their most revered possession: Telperion

Tilion was not apart of the equation. An unknown variable that threw your plans into disarray. Not that he ever discovered your true intentions, rather, you could not bring yourself to hurt him. A conflict of interest. You wished to curse yourself until you were blue in the face.

Maybe there is a way, you keep telling yourself as you allow him to chatter on about anything and everything interesting that occurred within the palace walls that week. ‘Maybe he is different.’

“Well, let me not take up too much of your time, seems like you are quite dazed.’’ Those words snap you out of your mini monologue and you habitually bite your lip. “Forgive me,’’ you sigh. “Suppose you can say I am far from energetic after today’s outing.’’ His smile tells you that all is well and he unwraps his arms from around you. Even if he was colder than ice, the absence of his touch left you chiller. Much like the ravenous winter that struck the land around the palace.

“Rest today. If all is well, I will pay you a visit tomorrow.’’ His lips purse. “Well, if Eönwë has nothing planned for me. You know what a pest he can be.’’ Silver eyes roll to the chandelier strung from the ceiling. You give him a faint smile accompanied by a wave before he leaves you alone in your room once again.

‘He is different.’

You already feel the headache settling itself between your nerves and you groan with fingers rubbing at your temples. Perhaps this is why vampires often got the job done without fail. They never grant themselves the luxury of forming meaningful relationships, at least from what you have observed. Unlike humans, who rely on their signature trait for survival: community.

Curses fly from beneath your breath as you fish out the intricately drawn map and splay it over your desk. Bringing a candle nearby to ease the strain of your eyes, you follow the path that you can only hope will bring you one step closer to your goal. First, Telperion — and soon, the downfall of all vampires.

‘East-wing, stay centre. The guards should be controlling the west once the moon is three-quarters through its course. Time it right and it should lead the way.’

Praying to whatever holy being might be listening, you once more fall back on your greatest strength: intelligence — before rolling up the map and burning it to ashes with the very candle in your hand.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⊱· ❀ ·⊰

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You would thank your lucky stars, but you knew that this was far from luck. This was skill. Skill that you sharpened like a blade. Knowledge and intellect were your weapons as you discreetly slink your way through the palace.

Dawn would soon break through the sky, a sign for most vampires to call it a day. Even with their advanced energy and disregard for sleep, many enjoyed taking a few hours between the onset of dawn and morning to give themselves a break. A schedule you had memorised like the back of your hand. As you did the guard routine.

Following the last shine of the moon that decorated the stone walls, you mind any creaking tiles and keep to the shadows. Avoiding windows that might send a breeze and cast your scent to the nearest guard in the vicinity. Many months had you planned this, and you would be a fool to let any possible contingency slip through the cracks.

You could already catch glimmers of its shimmering leaves from the arch of an opening that lay before you at the far end of the hallway. Wouldn’t they guard it well? Many would ask. Vampires worshipped the tree, regardless of their rank. However, this specific wing of the palace was forbidden to humans such as yourself. Were you to be spotted, one can only assume a bloody outcome. Favoured or not.

Heart in your throat, hands trembling at the taste of victory on your tongue — you approach the stone arch and slip out into the mini courtyard that awaited you. A ceiling was missing from above, allowing the power of the moon to shine down onto the area. Your lips purse for a moment. Was that the use of masking magic? You have never seen an opening from outside of the palace. After that brief spout of curiosity, you lower your gaze at last.

Lo and behold, the legend was true. Rooted at the centre, tall, mighty yet beautiful in every right stood the tree from the tales you read of in story books. Your eyes dazzle with the magnificence of silver that shimmers before you. Leaves, fruit, blossoms and trunk — all were blessed by the moon and shone with its pride.

Telperion, the silver tree.

Whether the gleam on your face was from the tree or the overwhelming sense of accomplishment that overflowed from within, you know not. After all this time, you are one step closer to your goal. Your friend’s name is sweet on your tongue for the first time in years as you whisper it into the air. Renewing your silent vow of avenging them.

“Far from energetic, you say? Might I assume that you are sleepwalking, then?”

Nerves tensing. Hair standing. Your heart plummets into your stomach when a voice graces your ears. The same honeyed voice of the one you held dearest. The light of the tree means nothing to you anymore. Overtaken by the shadow that consumes the pebble floor beneath you and renders your body frozen.

Unknown variable. . . No.

A miscalculation.

Nails dig into your palms as the presence that once brought you comfort finds itself in front of you. Seering dread throughout each of your nerves. Any warmth was now replaced by the chill of realisation — and the frostiness of failure. Betrayal.

You sight those silver strands that you adored despite your gaze fixated on the ground — even so, you refuse to glance up. Whether out of fear or shock.

“Will you not look at me?”

The pebbles melt to bronze and you soon face pools of grey. The warmth that you sought was still there. Familiar even. But now you could see past its facade and into the truth of malice. Staring back at you like a predator staring down its prey. The fingers beneath your chin that raised your head slip upwards. Caressing the underneath of your jaw as Tilion basks in the glow of your expression.

“What is wrong? You are usually so happy to see me.’’ His thumb brushes at your cheekbone, a habit that you fell in love with. Despite it all, your mouth runs dry — and you can all but stare at him in a dumbfounded state. “Could it be. . .” he trails, before nails bite into your soft skin and his arm yanks you nearer. Flushing your heat against his iciness.

“Is that fear in your eyes?”

Was that cruelty in his?

For the entirety of your stay here, Tilion was the one that chipped away your general view of vampires. Beating down the notion that all of them were merciless, sadistic beings of the night. With his silly smile and shimmering eyes. Oh, he still smiled. Yet it was filled with malevolence; and while his eyes shimmered, you knew well that it was not from kindness.

“You. . .’’ Your throat wishes to bleed. Still, you power through — gaze locked onto his.

“You are not just the friendly gentleman, are you?’’

His bark of laughter answers your question if not for the stone that met your back after he slipped his hand down to your throat and collided you into the nearest wall. Instinctively, your fingers shoot to his wrist and claw at his tanned skin as your body kicks into a struggle. Alas, you are no match for a vampire. Let alone a pureblood. The rose petals in your pocket would do so much as tickle him.

“That is what I love about your kind.’’ Tilion grins, bringing his face closer to your frightened one. “You are all so trusting. So eager for companionship. Even if you try to remain aloof or indifferent. Tell me, did you think we were friends?”

“N-N. . .o!” your pride attempts to choke.

“That look in your eye tells me otherwise.’’ His devilish hum rings through your eardrums and you gasp at the tightening of his grip that nearly cuts off your air supply. “Ah, that is right. You saw me not as a friend. . .” Tears spill into your eyes at his next spout of cruel laughter as he beholds your wriggling form. He needn’t finish his sentence. You knew the truth — so did he. All along you thought you were fooling him. Little did you know that it was you who was played like a harp.

“As the Guardian of Telperion. . .’’ Your eyes widen at the start of his words. The bishop!? You absolute fool — how couldn’t you piece it together sooner?

“I should report you to the royals. After all, analysing your research would tell even a dunce of what you have been up to. However. . .’’ Holding your breath, your heart pounds against its ribcage. Eager to tear through your chest and run from you. Save you from the agony that you knew would come.

“I must say, I believe I deserve a reward for this.’’ You catch a glimpse of his hungry gaze directed at your pulse. No doubt it is ringing through his ears just as much as yours. To make matters worse, the digging of his nails into your flesh cuts into your skin and allows a trickle of blood to drip down your neck. “I have held back all these months. . . And believe me, it was far from easy.’’

His hair tickles your face as his tongue flushes against the crimson; trailing it along the thin streak on your skin. You feel his tremble, his shudder — you hear his groan. Even a speck of your blood left him ravenous. Yet summoning all the patience he could, he parts in the slightest. So that he can behold your fearful expression once more.

“I should have my fun with you first.’’

It is the only clarity you will receive before a cry is ripped from the depths of your throat. As though hot metal tore through the softness of your flesh. His fangs reminded you of the true prowess of a pureblood.

It mattered not how much you protested. Struggled. Screamed — or begged. His hands found your wrists like chains and his bite left limp against the wall. A slave to your own ambition and at the mercy of his hunger.

·⊰ masterlist.

·⊰ tip jar.

·⊰ get tagged for my writing. @kiatheinsomniac @m-shade @flowerchildishere @bugnug @algae-rave @qwerty-19923 @momoewn @tinkywinky27 @weird-addiction @yonjisu @doodle-pops @noldorinpainter @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @floraroselaughter @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ please consider liking, reblogging and / or commenting if you enjoy my work! all feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

#— ꒰🌺꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐬 ៸៸ tolkien ❜‧₊#tilion #tilion x reader #reader insert #vampire!tilion #the silmarilion #silm #tolkien #ainur #maiar #vampire!ainur au #vampire au #writing

65 notes · View notes

theelvenhaven · 2 years

Text

Bobbing for Apples

Rog x Reader

2.4k Words

* * *

Costumes were everywhere in Gondolin, elves dressed exquisitely. Mostly taking their inspiration from the Valar or from the human tales that you and the other humans residing there had taught them. Though a few of the elves even dressed as the Maia from Valinor that they ran into, or took inspiration as well from Tilion and Arien in beautiful seas of silvers, blues, golds and oranges.

They certainly knew how to dress, and by the Stars did they certainly impress. You and the other humans here, had somehow convinced and indulged the elves to share in Hallow’s Eve traditions. And all of Gondolin was teeming with an air of celebration and excitement when you and your cohorts had brought this forth. Pumpkins decorated up the steep hills and at front doors, with other spooky motifs of ghosts, black cats, and even bats.

The King’s courtyard was no less done in an elvishly spooky way, with glass ornaments in spooky shapes, and places for intricate face paintings, and pumpkin carving places, and at your station was bobbing for apples. Three big bowls were filled to the brim with water, with apples floating atop in each bowl.

There had been some confusion from a couple of the elves in regards of what your station was for. Some wondering what it was, or if it were a place to quite literally fetch an apple to snack on. Yet when you explained you had only found that they retreated at the idea of getting their face wet all for an apple.

You sighed sitting down in the chair just at the table, relenting to the fact that there was no one in all of Gondolin who would take interest in this activity. Try as you might to sell it to anyone else, no one seemed to budge, especially as word spread about what the table was actually for. You fiddled with the intricately embroidered hem on your bright colored robes, having taken on a costume akin to Yavanna. Or at least in reverence to her, with your crown of ivy and flowers.

The theme certainly fitting your fruit bobbing station. You watched as many other elves passed by, shooing their young elflings from the table who tried to swipe or steal the apples out of the bowls. You were almost tempted to let them have one, seeing that no one else was going to be diving into them for one.

Yet a cacophony of amused and chattering voices met your ears, and bringing you to look up from swirling bowls of fruit and water. Seeing that it was the Lords Rog, Glorfindel and Ecthelion who were approaching, you felt a heat of a blush rise on your face as Lord Rog’s eyes met yours. Your heart stuttering in your chest at the sight of the ellon who had captured your heart and affections.

“Y/N! There you are!” Rog began joyously, with a warm grin pulling at his lips, “I’ve been searching everywhere for you so we can celebrate all together!” Your friend continued, and you couldn’t help but smile despite the fact that your nerves were alive and jittering at the moment. You could scarcely believe that he wanted to spend time with you,

“Believe me when I say it is all he has talked about.” Ecthelion said with feigned annoyance, you could see the way his lips turned slightly into a smile as he cast his eyes to look at his giant friend.

“Yes! Come, are you ready for dancing?” Glorfindel chimed in with a sunny and cheery smile, as the trio stopped before your table. Yet despite your excitement to join them- Rog especially- for the dancing and other festivities within the Kings Hall, you couldn’t help but feel disappointment. You had been here for several hours and not a single person wanted to partake in your activity you had set up. Rog could clearly see the way that your face fell at Glorfindel’s words.

“Is everything alright Y/N?” Rog asked you, before you shrugged some as your fingers came to rest on the edge of the table. Piddling with the table cloth on it, and releasing a sigh.

“I suppose so… But it is just that I haven't had much success with tonight's activity. So I am disappointed that it is coming to a close with no one to have participated.” You explained to him honestly, glancing between the three of them. All looking at you with surprise,

“No one has participated?” Glorfindel reiterated to you, and you shook your head no as you looked at the blond who raised his brows high. He had expected that the human activities would be the most participated in seeing as the elves did enjoy trying something new.

“Well then we must remedy this. Tell me how do you participate in your activity?” Rog pressed suddenly, folding his arms over his chest. You couldn’t help but begin to smile at the fact that he wanted to do so.

“I’ll maybe participate, do not lump me in yet.” Ecthelion said hesitantly, while he certainly had a love for water, he had heard the murmurings around what this activity was. Like everyone else, he wasn’t partial into dunking his face into a bowl of water.

“What about you Glorfindel? Surely you will play too!” Rog pressed, and the blond only smiled giving a shrug.

“I suppose I will join. Now how do we play?” Glorfindel conceded happily and with ease. You couldn’t help but wear your own giddy grin that your friends would really put in the effort to actually give in and play the human activity that had thwarted so many. Even if Ecthelion wasn’t interested in it, Glorfindel and especially Rog was good enough for you.

“Alright!” You said clasping your hands excitedly, “The object of the game is to get as many apples out of the bowl as you can using only your mouth.” You explained, and you watched as Rog and Glorfindel looked between each other. A tense competitiveness sparking up in the air from the ellons,

“Whoever gets the most wins.” You said,

“Wins what?” Rog asked, and Ecthelion watched as you suddenly grew sheepish at Rog’s question.

“I’m sure bearing the only title of King of Apple Bobbing is a prize enough.” Ecthelion noted, trying to spare you from being so shy and flustered that there was no real prize. He was sure the apples or perhaps even something confectionary might be the prize. Nothing that would usually entice grown elves into wanting to play.

“How about we wager a kiss!” Glorfindel said turning to face Rog, only bringing him to laugh aloud at his words.

“From who?” Rog asked,

“Oh I’m sure Rog would love a kiss from you Laurefindil.” Ecthelion pressed with his own impish smirk, only making the blond huff out. You snorted out at the remark unable to contain your amusement, though you were curious as to who was going to kiss Rog.

“Not from me, from Y/N!” There was something sly in Glorfindel’s little plan, and both you and Rog knew it as it grew quiet all of the sudden. Staring at the blond, who turned to look at you for confirmation. You only watched to see the knowing look in the blond’s eyes and it was as though he could see right through you. That and your lack of protests didn’t help your case.

Had you been Rog you would’ve seen the flourish of emotions that filled him, the heat of a blush burning so hot it went up to his ears. The nervousness, that even the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath experienced, filling his stomach in the form of fluttering. He had longed to kiss you for quite some time and now Glorfindel had presented him with an opportunity. Rog tried not to focus on the fact that you too didn’t protest the wager.

“Alright, the wagers on.” Rog said winking to you, trying to play off his nerves in turn for something far more lighthearted and fun. You too felt the fluttering of butterflies in your belly, you only smiled.

Rog and Glorfindel took their places before the bowls while Ecthelion moved to step off to the side of the table so he could watch the ordeal. That air of competitiveness sparking again as both ellon’s looked between one another and then back to you.

“Hands behind your back, remember you can only use your mouth. When I say stop we will count the apples and see who won.” You said keeping your smile, trying not to let your gaze fall longingly back on Rog and stay there.

“Ready,” You began, the ellons placing their hands behind their back,

“Set,” Rog and Glorfindel both leaned over their respective bowls,

“Go!” You said quickly, and as expected with Glorfindel he began to partially put his face into the bowl and began snapping and biting at the apples. Trying to strategize how to get one into his mouth, while there was a splashing coming from Rog. When you turned your gaze to the Lord, all you could see was that the ellon had his whole head in the bowl.

You couldn’t help but begin to laugh aloud at the sight, even bringing Glorfindel to pause and look over before he and Ecthelion both were cackling alongside you. But no sooner than you three started laughing, did Rog come up from the bowl with a shiny bright red apple wedge between his teeth.

Slinging water everywhere as he came up, wetting you and Glorfindel who began to go right back to work chasing after apples in his own dish. Rog only set his apple down quickly before he went right back to the bowl, dunking his head back under the water going right after another apple.

You were in stitches you were laughing so hard watching the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath be so aggressive with something like bobbing for apples. It was supposed to be such a fun and gentle game in comparison to this, though you and passerby’s were no less amused.

Water was everywhere from Rog’s enthusiasm.

On you, the ground, Glorfindel, the table was certainly soaked, and even Ecthelion had water splatters across his nice silvery robes.

“Alright! Stop! Stop!” You laughed out in hysterics, wiping the tears from your eyes in your hysterical laughter. Rog barely heard you, only pulling his head out of the water dish with another apple in his mouth, bringing you to continue laughing as you saw that his whole head was drenched.

Water running down his face, and neck, the high collar to his burgundy tunic was saturated in water with his hair dripping down his back and shoulders. You knew Rog was competitive and enthusiastic, but you didn’t think it would’ve gone like this.

Glorfindel only stood trying to contain his own laughter as he now got a good look at his friend, seeing the mess he had created. All in a bid to get a kiss from you, knowing Rog would’ve been a little less enthusiastic were it not for the fact your kiss was on the line.

“Okay.” You laughed out, wiping your eyes again, looking over to the apples. “Lets see.” You mused out, counting Glorfindel’s meager three apples. Which truly wasn’t bad with the softer and more gentle approach. Before you turned over to Rog’s pile of apples. It was truly quite a feat as you began to count them out.

8 apples were piled on the table around the bowl, and that didn’t include the two that had fallen from the table. You didn’t understand how such an aggressive approach got him this many apples, but you were nonetheless impressed by his skill to accomplish and win in this task.

“It would seem Rog is our King of Apple Bobbing.” Ecthelion mused out, still chuckling softly and shaking his head at the sight of his friend. You watched as a big grin spread across his lips, before he rather sheepishly turned his gaze to you. Again you felt the familiar fluttering in your stomach at the sight.

Only barely did you two notice that Ecthelion and Glorfindel both had quietly scampered away from the two of you. Leaving you to move gently from around the table, making sure to bring a small towel with you. Nothing that was truly appropriate in size to actually help dry him off.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Y/N.” Rog said in a rather soft voice, giving you the opportunity to back out now. He didn’t want you to feel forced into something you didn’t want to do, and he’d rather be without a kiss than make you do anything you didn’t want too. He watched with hopeful eyes as you paused just in front of him, holding out the small towel for him as you tried to gather your words.

“I… wouldn’t mind.” You said bashfully, glancing up at him from beneath thick lashes, bringing such elation from Rog. But he restrained himself as he took the towel from you, taking the time to dry his face, before looking back down at you.

Gently Rog leaned down, tentatively turning his head enough to bring his lips to yours. Ever so softly and gently, you met back his lips with an equal amount of timidness. Feeling his hand come up gently to brush your hair away from your face, his knuckles gently caressing against your cheek.

Your lips pressed a little more firm against his, Rog melding his lips with yours more affectionately. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips, overjoyed with such affections being shared.

After another moment it was then Rog parted his lips from yours grinning widely. His hand still moving to cup your face as he held it tenderly. Rog opened his mouth to speak, but was only interrupted,

“Hey lovebirds! Come on! Let’s go to the Halls.” Glorfindel said impatiently, leaving you both to laugh out softly at his bid to get the two of you to join them again. You both wanted to say something more, but you knew you had the whole night together, there would be more time to say what you needed too.

Though he may not have said anything more, Rog reached down for your hand. Lacing his fingers withyours, before gently he pulled you along.

“Yeah yeah! That's King of Apple Bobbing to you, peasant!” Rog grinned out mischievously bringing you to laugh.

You couldn’t wait for your night to go on! This was going to be the best Hallow’s Eve yet.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @anunexpectedsideblog @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss

42 notes · View notes