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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year

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“Something new”

Pairing: Fëanor x Melkor

Themes: Throne room fun times | Smut

Warnings: Kissing | Praise | Nicknames | Some explicit language | Oral

Word count: 1.3k words

Summary: Fëanor and Melkor try something new while alone in the throne room.

Rating: 🔥 🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+

Rules and tag form can be found here.

The High Lord of Angband sighed blissfully before slumping into his throne. "You will be the death of me, little one."

Fëanor flashed that impish smile of his. The throne room was empty, having been cleared of thralls and Melkor’s servants. The moment the others left and the hall’s heavy iron doors closed, Melkor summoned the elf to him. It had become a ritual for them: Melkor seated upon his throne, an imposing monstrosity of black stone and bones, and Fëanor on his lap. Most often than not, they would talk. On other occasions, other diversions took up the chief of their time.

"Pray tell me, sire," he fussed with the clasps on Melkor’s tunic, undoing them one by one. "Who insisted on being in the forge while I worked?"

"I simply wanted to make sure you were not idling about," Melkor said quickly enough.

It was a bold-faced lie, and Fëanor knew it. Melkor did not need to mind him the way a mother did with her babe, and idleness was one thing Fëanor loathed above all else. His lord knew this all too well, having been sent away from the forge on more than one occasion when Fëanor was in the midst of a task. He still went along with it and smiled, saying, "Perhaps. How about the way you insisted on being near me, sire? Coming up with every conceivable excuse to touch me? Came close to fucking me the moment we were alone?"

His cheeks flamed. Melkor had indeed done all the things he was accused of. Ever since the first time they had lain together, Melkor could not get enough of the elf, what he did to him, what he made him feel. And the Vala felt a great deal and wanted much.

This was not always true of him. Once, Melkor had been consumed by the domination of Arda, of seeking the Flame Imperishable for himself. Nothing else mattered save for the total mastery over everything he set his eyes on. Melkor sought no friendship, no brotherly bond, and no attachment of any kind. He considered them all weaknesses, weapons that could be used against him, and he went out of his way to avoid them. All of that changed when an elf swore loyalty to him, one with bright blue eyes and raven hair, one who consumed his every thought and awoke in him feelings he did not even know about.

It terrified him sometimes, the consequences of having such a bond with another. Being vulnerable, showing a softer side to someone else, giving them the power to destroy him in more ways than one. If the other Valar found out it would be their finest weapon against him. More than once Melkor wanted to finish things for good and for all, to put an end to what he shared with Fëanor and send him away, but the mere thought of being parted was hard, and as the days passed, it grew even harder. Once, he strengthened his resolve and approached the elf while he was alone. Yet as soon as Fëanor smiled and slipped a hand into his, his eyes lighting up, Melkor knew he could not do it. He came to a decision. If Fëanor was going to be his weakness then so be it, the consequences be damned.

"Now do not tell me you did not enjoy it," Melkor teased. He moaned when teeth marred his throat, leaving dark patches in their wake.

Fëanor would have grinned had Melkor not pulled him in for a kiss. His mouth tasted of the wine they had earlier, one that was light and sweet. "I will not lie," he breathed. "I did enjoy it. Pity we had to end it so quickly."

"Aye. Such a pity," Melkor agreed, raking his hands through Fëanor’s hair when his lips moved down his throat again. "But there is no one to disturb us now."

"No one indeed," Fëanor kept kissing, moving lower and lower, quietly relishing the trembles he felt beneath him. "But if you still want me to stop, you need only say the word and -"

"If you stop there will be consequences," Melkor murmured. "I give you my word."

A threat that was never a threat. Fëanor no longer had cause to fear Melkor and Melkor no longer gave him one. In the beginning, he thought he was imagining things, that he was caught up in a hazy dream. He expected to wake up and find it was all a sweet illusion, that Melkor’s promises had been nothing but lies, and that he had made use of him like he did so many others before him. Fëanor went as far as to prepare himself for such a fate, strengthening himself for the pain and bitterness that would inevitably follow. Time and the Vala himself showed that was not the case, and Fëanor found his fears were all for naught. He kissed Melkor again, his body pressing heatedly against the Vala's fana.

Fëanor shivered when strong arms slipped around his waist and pulled him even closer. Melkor wanted to take him to bed, but he did not have the patience for it. He wanted Fëanor now and did not want to wait a moment longer. He ground against the insides of Fëanor’s thighs, finding himself already hard. "I want you, little one," he purred helplessly. "I want you now."

Fëanor lifted his head, his lips already puffy and bruised. His blue eyes had darkened, the need in them matching Melkor’s. "What do you want, sire?"

"Something new." Melkor looked at those bruised lips. Idle chatter of those who had indulged sprang to mind and gave him a wicked idea. "That pretty mouth of yours," he said, running a thumb over Fëanor’s lips. "Do you perchance have another use for it?"

Fëanor understood quickly enough and grinned wolfishly. Slipping off Melkor’s lap he set his feet on the ground, pushing Melkor’s thighs apart with his hands. By the time he sank to his knees, Melkor’s gaze was locked on him. It did not take long to undo the fastenings in his breeches.

Fëanor’s mouth felt so warm around his cock. Melkor threw his head back and whispered words of praise spilled off his lips repeatedly.

"You look so good on your knees," he said softly, brushing the hair out of Fëanor’s face so he could see better. On impulse, he gathered all of that thick black hair into his hand and held it out of the way. Fëanor would occasionally flick his eyes at Melkor, triumph and lust burning in them when the Vala writhed and groaned in pleasure. His tongue running softly along the underside of Melkor’s length, his lips lingering over the tip, swirling his tongue around it—all of this made Melkor’s breath come out like a hiss. "And how well you take me. As if you were made for me."

Fëanor easily grew drunk on the praise, and praise he received in plenty. He moaned when Melkor pushed his head down, his hand tight around the elf’s hair. Fëanor felt his cock twitch against his tongue and readied himself when praise slowly turned into desperate pleas.

Melkor’s breath had grown ragged, his hips rocking in erratic thrusts. He was so close now he could feel it in the sweet tension building in his fana. A wave of extreme pleasure rose within him when Fëanor stroked his cock, his hand moving in rhythm with his mouth. Melkor could hold on no longer and fell back into his throne, his fana trembling violently as his orgasm ripped through him. He could not think, he could not breathe; all that mattered was the blissed-out state he found himself in. Sweet words of endearment poured off his lips even as the tide slowly receded and passion had been sated.

When he blinked his eyes and opened them, he found Fëanor looking up expectantly. "Swallow," he commanded, "and come here."

Fëanor did as he was bid and found himself pulled into a tight embrace. They kissed again, softly and more playfully this time, before Melkor rested his brow against Fëanor’s with a sigh.

"You were so good to me little one," Melkor said, kissing Fëanor’s neck lightly. "Now how about I reward you in return?"

Tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese @fictionfordays

#Curelkor #Melkor x Fëanor #Melkor x Fëanor imagines #Melkor smut #fëanor smut #the sil #the silmarillion #💫whimsy's shenanigans #fanfiction #tw: smut #💫a world of whimsy writes #writeblr

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furious-haste-of-malice · 4 months

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❝ "Come, Mulkhêrînim, and do not be shy. The Elf-prince is yours to use tonight, for this is how the Lord rewards his loyal subjects." ❞

⊱ Prompt: Pillory/stocks, free use ⊱ Pairing: Númenórean cultists x Maglor, Mairon ⊱ Synopsis: Mairon captures Maglor and brings him to the Temple of Melkor as a gift to his loyal followers. ⊱ Featuring: The Cult of Melkor is also a deranged sex cult now because Mairon said so, references to past Angbang ⊱ Warnings: Non-con, ritualistic gang rape, sadism & voyeurism (on Mairon's part in particular), the prompts by themselves

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Another one for @tolkienpinupcalendar's Dead Dove December; we're nearing the end (one more regular chapter that I have already written plus a bonus fic I'm currently working on).

Mulkhêrînim - (Adûnaic) - Children of Melkor. Thought it would be a lovely way for Mairon to address them like that as an ultimate affront against Eru. Translation by me with the help of this dictionary (because in the Tolkien fandom even the nasty porn needs linguistics!)

"I have a special gift for you today, oh faithful Mulkhêrînim."

His loyal cultists mumbled among themselves when Mairon presented them with the exquisite treat he had captured.

At first glance, it appeared to be yet another captive, like the innumerable amount he had caught in the service of his lord – a dark-haired man, albeit handsome by incarnate standards, was kneeling on the dais in front of the altar, his head and hands secured by a hastily erected pillory, naked save for a flimsy loin cloth.

The more perceptive among Mairon's followers, however, had already noticed what made this one special: The pair of pointed ears sticking out from the mess that was his hair, almost defiantly announcing his identity as one of Ilúvatar's immortal children.

"Is that an Elf?" one of the cultists gasped, pointing at the helpless prisoner.

"Indeed it is, very good," Mairon purred and stood next to the Elf in question to almost tenderly pull his hair out of the way to show them off. "But not any Elf; I have captured one of royal blood."

The whispering among his followers intensified, and he savoured the tension before the anxiously awaited revelation.

"Meet Prince Makalaurë, also known as Maglor, the last living son of Fëanor!"

Laughing and jeering erupted from the crowd, their faces changing from curious to ravenous within seconds. Maglor, however, remained quiet, merely pressing his lips together and hardening his gaze.

I suppose his dear brother told him what happens to those who talk back, Mairon thought with a pleased smirk.

"Our minstrel's lonely wanderings have finally come to an end, so that he may grace us with his presence instead," he declared with a grand gesture, smugness bleeding into his tone like black ink dripping into water.

"Will he be a sacrifice to the Lord?" a younger cultist asked.

Mairon laughed. Oh, Melkor would be delighted to witness this scene; he could practically hear his gleeful laughter echoing through the temple from beyond the circles of the world, could see his eyes gleaming with dark amusement, could feel his joy – but he swiftly tore himself away from his memories and imagination, lest he be distracted for too long.

"Perhaps he will be in time," he drawled, "though for now he shall serve you."

His mortal followers, while loyal and so very eager to attain the immortality he had promised, didn't seem to grasp the meaning of his words, looking up at him expectantly. None had the courage to ask. Mairon suppressed a sigh of exasperation and the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and stepped aside so they could properly admire Maglor's scantily clad form.

"Have you never dreamed of getting a taste of what we will conquer? Of enjoying the pleasures of immortal flesh?" He chuckled. "Such rare blood is too precious to spill with haste, would you not agree? After all..."

In one swift movement, Mairon raked his claw-like golden nails down Maglor's back, drawing blood and eliciting a piercing scream.

"He has such a beautiful voice, for which he is renowned to this day. What a waste it would be to not enjoy his illustrious company..."

Murmurs of agreement rose within the crowd, and a few cultists came closer, looking up at their high priest as they waited for permission. Mairon stepped back to make space for his followers and beckoned them with an elegant wave of his hands, causing the golden bangles on his arm to clink and tinkle.

"Come, Mulkhêrînim, and do not be shy. The Elf-prince is yours to use tonight, for this is how the Lord rewards his loyal subjects."

A heady mix of lust and greed filled the room, and he inhaled it eagerly, a warm shudder going through him. He was going to enjoy this spectacle greatly.

Had he caught any other Elf, he would have to be worried that their fëa would all too soon flee to Mandos, unable to endure such violation, but the Fëanorion's ill-fated oath would keep him chained to his hröa.

Robes billowing behind him as if moved by an unseen tempest of malice, Mairon strutted around the altar and leapt onto the lap of Melkor's statue with feline grace, taking a seat like a king would sit on a throne.

"Do you see that, precious? Almost like home," he whispered to the statue and pressed a reverent kiss onto the cold marble hand, exactly where his ring would have been.

Maglor didn't scream when his loin cloth was torn off him, nor when greedy hands explored his body and fondled him like a common whore. He didn't grace his captors with any pleas or protests. Only when one cultist knelt behind him and forced his cock inside, he finally cried out.

Mairon smiled. Awaken their lust, and they are reduced to mere animals, as you taught me yourself.

The scene unfolding in front of him was chaotic, erratic and filthy, just like Melkor would have loved it. The Man's coupling with their Elven captive was frenzied and hasty, gripping his hips with his knuckles white, chasing his pleasure. Maglor himself was soon silenced – in spite of his wonderful voice and the lovely sound of his screams – by another cultist forcing his mouth open to shove his cock down his throat.

"Let's see what else he can do with that talented tongue of his," another commented on the act, followed by raucous laughter.

Mairon considered chastising them for not appreciating the beauty of a voice trembling with pain and despair, but instead kept a serene expression as if it had been an amusing statement. He couldn't quite fault them for it; after all, mortals were ever so impatient, and their new toy had many of them to satisfy.

Whenever one finished inside of him, another would take their place. A young initiate was sent to retrieve some oil for additional lubrication and returned with a pitcher containing the very same sacred oil that was used in their ritual sacrifices – another thing too entertaining to be irked by, and thus Mairon remained silent, smiling and nodding along whenever one of his followers looked up at him for encouragement.

"Let us see if they can break him, precious," he whispered to the statue.

Maglor's head hung low whenever no one held it in place, though he had little room to move. The pillory kept him upright even as knees gave in, and seed had begun leaking out of him and down his thighs. Mairon was delighted to see droplets of red marring creamy white and caught the distinct scent of blood. Still, it didn't stop his followers from using their new toy like wild beasts mounting one another during mating season. Some also opted to help themselves before or after their turn, spilling onto whichever part of Maglor they could reach.

Mairon hadn't paid attention to the passage of time, but he estimated a few hours had passed when they were finally done with the Noldorin prince, readjusting their robes and withdrawing from him while glancing up at their master. Abandoning his comfortable seat on the statue – though most unwillingly – he stepped closer to survey the results.

Despite no longer being gagged, Maglor was eerily silent. His entire form was stained with viscous white, his face in particular, his lips were swollen, his legs trembling, his hole loose and leaking.

Mairon graced his followers with a bright, pleased smile as if they had done him a great kindness and placed his fingertips together.

"Well done, Mulkhêrînim. Our Lord shall look down upon you with benevolence and grant his favour to those who stand against his enemies."

Maglor let out a small snort, yet the spark of rebellion was short-lived when Mairon backhanded him across the face with graceful elegance that belied the force of his blow.

"Now take our guest to the King's dungeons and make accommodations worthy of a prince."

The sweet smile on his face then twisted, showing sharp teeth, and his voice darkened as he added, "And make sure he cannot escape, lest you wish to invoke our Lord's wrath."

Thanks for reading! ♡

#⊰✦⊱ non-con #mairon #sauron #maglor #makalaure #numenoreans #cult of melkor #silm smut #minors dni #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing #tw noncon #cw noncon #dead dove do not eat #TPCdeaddovedecember

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cilil · 5 months

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Winter prompts - gift giving - Melkor/Maedhros (maybe Modern AU) (maybe Maedhros giving the Silmarils to Melkor, because he got addicted to fucking Melkor, in his ass and tits)

❅ Prompt: Gift Giving | Melkor x Maedhros ❅ Synopsis: After failing to get the Silmarils from Fëanor, Melkor seduces Maedhros to use him to get what he wants. ❅ Warnings: Melkor's weird sex magic ❅ Triple drabble

» AN: Lovely idea! Hope you don't mind that I ended up writing canonverse, just happened to be what I was feeling and imagining.

It was, quite simply, unfair that the mightiest of the Valar was so unfathomably alluring.

Whenever Maitimo laid eyes on him, as soon as he heard his voice, he was caught in whatever web of magic Melkor was skillfully spinning around him, his all too willing prey. Many times in the past had he then given in, drunk on pleasure and addicted to the feeling of magnificent, once-holy flesh welcoming his manhood, wherever and however he took the wily creature that was now reclining on his bed.

How in Eru's name did his father manage to resist, Maitimo lamented in his mind as he was inevitably, inexorably drawn closer, his eyes already searching Melkor's body to determine how he would like to take him today –

But then his passionate musings were cut short by a cool, naked foot pressing against his chest, pushing him back with the force of an avalanche. He shivered instinctively, knowing that the Vala was holding back and could have broken his hröa beyond repair if it pleased him.

"You want me again," Melkor said, a fey light in his eyes. "But don't you think you should give me something to show yourself worthy of my favour? Is that not how a lover should be treated?"

"What do you want," Maitimo breathed, forcing himself not to run his palms over the wonderfully muscular leg presenting itself to him and to avert his gaze from the part of the Vala's anatomy that lay in-between. "Whatever you want, it's yours –"

"The Silmarils."

"They are not mine to give, my lord."

"But you could find a way, could you not?"

Melkor removed his foot from his chest, only to wrap his legs around him when Maitimo came closer, both daunted and lured in by the power of his gaze.

"You are your father's eldest," he purred. "Whatever he calls his own is already yours by birthright, is it not?"

His voice failing him, Maitimo nodded. Dread grasped his heart, a premonition of evil that would come to pass and a sense of betrayal, but then his worries were swept away when Melkor swiftly drew him into his mighty embrace and acquiesced to his desire, welcoming him inside.

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot

#melkor #morgoth #maedhros #maitimo #melkor x maedhros #drabble #ainur #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing #winter prompts

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aeonianarchives · 2 years

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Take these Broken Wings and learn how to fly

A/N: Reader is a son of Fëanor but did not swear the oath, and somehow survived till the third age, and is reunited with there friend from Gondolin, but he wants him to be more than a friend, this is slightly inspired by animatorwierdo's Imagine being one of the sons of Feanor, but not swearing the oath, go read it if your interested i have linked it, the only difference is this fic is set in the third age. Enjoy :)

Link: Imagine being one of the sons of Feanor, but not swearing the oath Third Age Glorfindel x Male!Reader

T/W: Angst, Flashbacks, PTSD, Anxiety and slight depression

You where half expecting the Lord of Imladris to hate you for what your brother had done, and now you had the audacity to ask him for refuge and a home in his kingdom, you were thankful to Galadriel for letting you stay as long as you did, she recognised you didn't swear the oath and you helped the people your brothers where killing, but not many other elves did, King Thranduil sure didn't, Elrond's kindness came as a shock to you, after all your brother did kidnap him, but that was a long and complicated story.

You also where not sure how you survived to the Third age, after the crossing the Helcaraxë, the Fall of Gondolin, you half expected to die in the last alliance or at lest Morgoth to capture or kill you like he did with your brother.

But once again you where forgotten, you had gotten used to it over time, sometimes people even forgot you where there with them, given most people who didn't know the Kinslayings thought you where one of Fingolfin's children and not a son of Fëanor, most said there where seven sons not eight.

"I hope you can settle in well in Imladris" Came Elrond's voice knocking you out of you thoughts, he had certainly grown from the frail, little scrawny, but brave elfling you tried to protect from your brothers all those years ago.

You just nodded to the Lord in gratitude, as he showed you your room, you thanked him and he left, you set your pack down, and decided to look around, the room was simple yet elegant, like most elvish things in the eyes of humans some of the time, Thranduil was far from an example he was always over doing things.

You tossed the curtains to the windows open, to see the gardens, an intricate rail before a waterfall which flowed into the Anduin, Imladris certainly held beauty, but you always had a love of Himring, it was the last time you saw your brothers, Maedhros had even given you a whole library, you would have to find the Imladris one you noted.

You soon left your room to go for a stroll when you happened upon the Library so you entered it, it was certainly big, and organized? you guessed it was how the person in charge of it had it, especially when you saw the book of the house of Fëanor next to was that Poetry, Murderous elves next to a book of romantic poetry that was certainly something, and something you would never do.

Interested in what elves wrote about your house you took the book and found an alcove, what you did not expect was flashbacks to come with the book, sure you had them before, but it was normally at things you smelt, or saw or even heard, not a book.

the port was on fire, you could see the smoke from where you had gone for a stroll, Tirion was on fire, elves fighting elves, and your father was incharge of the assault? the Valar would of never allowed this, and they wanted the boats, you sighed in annoyance realising what they where doing, the Oath you had refused to swear, the oath you had said was irrational and irresponsible and unnecessary, that your brother had been so quick to swear was happening, you noticed your uncle Fingolfin coming with his men.

Your sword quickly blocked your fathers from killing a Telerin elf "WHAT ON ARDA ARE YOU DOING ADA" you yelled at him, you had always been the more reasonable one, you kept your anger in check unlike your father and brothers, you also never expected Fingolfin to misunderstand the situation

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MELKOR IS ROAMING MIDDLE EARTH, WITH OUR HEIRLOOMS" he yelled back

"THIS OATH IS UNNECESSARY, YOU DO NOT KILL PEOPLE FOR SHIPS, ARE YOU INSANE" you yelled back negotiation was obviously off the table all your father understood in this minute was violence, Melkor was the enemy not these elves but your father wasn't going to understand, his anger and emotions blinded him to the logical truth, hell it wasn't even logical it was the truth.

You knew he only thought about violence that's how he was when he was angry, but you never expect him to raise his sword against his own son, much less slash your face, the pain was unbearable, you couldn't help but shout out in pain, the Twin's, Caranthir, Maedhros where the only ones to show hesitation, when your father ordered you to leave the same moment disowning you as his son.

You jolted at the sudden contact against your arm as you came back to your reality, Elrond was sat the other side with a worried expression, you obviously had kept the mental trauma of your family away from him, but now it was out, Glorfindel was stood besides you, wait Glorfindel, you saw him get dragged off a cliff by his hair by a Balrog, how was he alive, he offered you a strained smile of comfort he was obviously worried, he always was whenever he or Turgon found you like this in Gondolin, he removed your had from your face where it covered your scar

"Mellon-nin, It is alright, they do not live on Arda anymore, they have left" Glorfindel said, you shrugged him off and stood leaving, your stoic face returning, you couldn't show weakness, not to Elrond, not to anyone, not even the poser of Glorfindel, what right did he have to call you his friend, he was a poser, Glorfindel had not been reembodied.

You soon reached your room and slid down the wall, covering your face with your hands as you pressed your knees against your chest, you took a long and unsteady breath, as you threw your head back against the wall looking up to the ceiling, there was a knock on the door.

"Y/N, It's me, would you let me in" Came Glorfindel's worried voice.

"I know your not him, he can't of been reembodied, so stop posing as him" You replied he sighed on the other side of the door

"I'm no poser, I have been reembodied, I can prove it" Glorfindel said

"Then do it, tell me something only that over energetic sunray would know" You replied

"At one of Turgon's receptions, you disappeared into a servant corridor, because you got anxiety over your scar, I found you, in one of your panic attacks and I gave you my cloak to calm down, no one else knows it happened and it was never recorded, only we know about it, you also don't know how to dance because you where never taught, but you find it like fighting, just along to a rhythm of the music your awfully good at it, you used to have a crush on Galdor, just because he was nice to you and complemented your scar, do you need anymore proof, now open the door" Glorfindel said you sighed, and buried your face in your knees.

It was true only Glorfindel knew those things, you told him mostly everything, saved from a few details.

"It's open" You said with a sigh of defeat, Glorfindel entered and turned to you, he knelt down besides you.

"Hey, listen to me, I said i wouldn't leave you forever, and i didn't I came back, You are not your brothers, nor are you your father, you are better than them, stronger than them, you have survived so much, you lived in Arda longer than they did, they died here" Glorfindel said you looked to the blond lord, he offered a warm smile.

"hey i've always been here for you i'm not going to leave you" Glorfindel said.

That was the moment you realised you didn't like Glorfindel as a friend you where in love with him

You offered a weak smile back to the lord, the blond sunk down and sat on the floor leaning against the wall.

"So, are you going to tell me why this always get like this when anything about the Kinslayings or the house of Fëanor or his sons come up, it has something about that scar, all you told me is your brothers and father are bad people and you don't want to be like them, people look up to turgon so i was slightly surprised when you said that" Glorfindel said

"Turgon is actually my cousin, he's only my brother because I got disowned in fingolfin took me in, my father was Fëanor, there where eight sons not seven, I'm just easy to forget about" You replied to the Lord

"How come no one knows that, everyone just knows you as a son of Fingolfin" Glorfindel asked

"Never took part in the Kinslayings apart from stopping my brothers, under Fingolfin's command, Fingon and Turgon treated me like their brother, called me there brother, Turgon, made everyone think I was his brother" You said Glorfindel lay down his head resting on his palm as he looked up at you, you couldn't help but smile at him, he looked so relaxed, and elegant.

the Lord soon left you saw him the next day, he was going on and on about himself.

"Oh Look at me, I'm Glorfindel and my luscious locks outshine Arien herself" You mocked the lord looked at you in mock horror and shock

"You are so mean sometimes" Glorfindel said swinging his arm around you and hanging off you.

"You know, I've noticed something different about you" Glorfindel said you froze, did he know you liked him, no he was to oblivious right, you mean the situation with Ecthelion, wait did he like Ecthelion still, you should of know he would pick the Lord of the Fountain over you, you shouldn't expect something different.

"Hey, Y/n, back to Arda, don't need you daydreaming, that always ends well doesn't it" Glorfindel said sarcastically it a joking way, to bring your attention back to him, it was true it never ended well, given your past.

"Anyway, remember how you always told be to shove off and literally shoved me off, how come you don't do that now, AHHHHHHHH, are you in love with me, no i flatter myself to much" Glorfindel said as he sighed pulling his head back up

"It maybe more likely than you think" You muttered not even stopping the words falling out your mouth as your head hung low, Glorfindel's head snapped to you, you could just see his questioning and surprised look in your peripheral vision.

"do you actually love me, Y/N" Glorfindel asked in no more than a whisper

"It's silly, you like Ecthelion, i accept that, now can we talk no more about this" you said going to walk away but he grabbed you by your wrist.

"No I am not going to leave this, sure I liked Ecthelion a lot but he was fun to annoy, but he liked Egalmoth, did you see him, no that doesn't matter, he was practicing his confession with me, he was my best friend after all, I always thought you would go for someone of higher standing like Duilin or Galdor, never me, I thought you deserved so much better" Glorfindel said

"I don't deserve better, and i don't deserve you, i deserve no one, i deserve to watch the ones i love, die or love someone else" You shot back Glorfindel looked to you, when you where in self hate or self doubt there was little he could do to pull you from it, the blond lord cupped your face in his hands and pulled you to look at him, you reluctantly gave him what he wanted, he smiled and kissed you, your eyes widened in shock, your brain kept on repeating 'he's taking pity on you'.

"I don't want your love if it's out of pity" You said pushing away from him and walking off

"are you really going to spend your life pushing away the good things because you think that's what you deserve" Glorfindel muttered after you, but you never replied, Glorfindel made his way to the Library and slammed the doors open, frightening Lindir who dropped the books he was getting for Elrond.

"GLORFINDEL, STOP SLAMMING THE DOORS OPEN" Came a shout from a angry Erestor, who stopped seeing the look on Glorfindel's face.

"Do you have anything and i mean anything on Lord Y/N" Glorfindel asked.

"I don't have much on him, it seems even if he is a Royal elf, he was forgotten about, in the books, there's rarely mentions of him, apart from a book Fingolfin wrote about his elder brother and his family, it's mostly is about him" Erestor leading Glorfindel to the book he took the book from the shelf, it was large, it was thick and some pages stuck out.

"Try not to break it" Erestor said as the blond took the book, to Elrond's surprise his door slammed open half an hour late, the lord sat in front of him winced at the noise.

"WHAT THE HELL" Glorfindel could manage towards you as he set the book Infront of you making your eyes widened, you really thought that book had been destroyed how come it was in Imladris much less Elrond's Library

"You will have to define your question more Lord Glorfindel" You replied

"Oh no don't pull that, Fingolfin kept this explaining everything about you right from you linage to everything else, Celegorm was a jerk you know that so was Curufin, that is not how they are suppose to treat you, your not suppose to think you don't deserve anything, and be surprised and think it's out of pity when someone offers you something, and that scar" Glorfindel was about to start a rant right into your ear chewing it off, it may of been for love but that book obviously hurt for you to see so Elrond stopped him and took the book.

"We cannot do anything about the past now Glorfindel, even if you do not like it, all we can do is change the present and help him to heal mentally although that may take some time, and that is something I cannot do, I am a skilled healer yes but he needs someone he trusts, and that is obviously you" Elrond said not even stopping you from leaving Glorfindel followed you

"WHY DO YOU HAVE TO POKE YOUR HEAD INTO EVER DAM CRACK, GLORFINDEL, WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE" Glorfindel froze, your eyes seemed different, they where cold yet held fire to them, your whole dementor switch, it was as if you where your father, Fëanorian anger was renowned and now Glorfindel knew why, you had kept it in all through your life being the more reasonable one, but if it helped for you to let your anger out Glorfindel was not going to stop you, it may of broke his heart, but he was going to help you no matter what and all he was going to show you was love.

Even threw you yelling at him, with an anger than scared others away and servants right out of the corridors, he stayed put, he was your outlet and if he didn't it was going to be pointed at an innocent bystander, he watched your voice go horse, and your throat start hurting, he went to help but you wacked his arm away your glare may of been more deadly than your bark and your bite definitely was after all you killed Morgoth with it.

Glorfindel however did not back down, you weren't going to kill him, one thing even with your anger you never let your emotions get the better of you, you may show them but they never guided you in decisions, that was why your opinion was valued.

The Blond Lord Kneeled besides your hunched over body, only now he realised you where in fact crying, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

"I do not love you because of pity, I love you because of how strong you are both mentally and physically, even if you do not think you are, you have survived so much, Elrond's wife sailed to Valinor due to her Truma, and that was only from an orc attack, you show the flight of the Noldor, your where there at the Kinslayings fighting your own brothers, you where there at the fall of Gondolin, you have lost your friends, your family, so much and yet your still here, you killed Morgoth, I wanted to tell you this before but i never found the right time" Glorfindel said laying his head on top of yours

"The Valar told me, when i was reembodied to tell you, that they will not hold the punishments for your family on you" Glorfindel looked down to you to see you had fallen asleep, a smile smile was on your face.

"This must not be comfortable for you" Glorfindel said picking you up, his room was closer but was that really appropriate, who cares he certainly didn't, he took you there and laid you on his bed, he smiled to himself and was going to leave you, when he realised your figures had intertwined with his, you had squeezed his hand.

"don't leave me, please" You asked the blond, he sat on the corner of the bed

"I won't leave you ever again, Y/N" he whispered to your ear pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Gi Melin, Meleth-nin" You said half asleep.

"I love you as well, Y/n" Glorfindel replied

"miqu nin Meleth-nin" Glorfindel looked at you in shock, but did as you said he placed a gentle kiss onto your lips, which you returned tiredly.

"Join me" You asked Glorfindel slowly laid down and you snuggled yourself into him, an arm and leg thrown over him protectively yet your head in the crook of his neck, you hummed in relaxation that you where finally able to let your walls down.

The Blond soon learned you where way to over protective of him for your own good, it took a lot of reassuring from him that he wouldn't leave you for Erestor as he was with the Guardian of Imladris which to your note, you had never seen Gildor before, but he always somehow managed to stop you from spiralling in your own thoughts if he saw you.

Elvish Translations:

Meleth-nin: my love

(Quenya) Miqu-nin: kiss me

Gi Melin - I love you

mellon-nin - my friend

Tolkien Lore/Useful Information:

Helcaraxë - The Helcaraxë or "Grinding Ice" was an icy waste between the lands of Aman and Middle-earth. Its exact nature is left unclear, but it seems to have been an area of broken and shifting pack ice covering the northernmost parts of the Great Sea.

The Fall of Gondolin -The Fall of Gondolin was the battle between the forces of Gondolin under King Turgon and Morgoth, after Maeglin had betrayed the city's hidden location to the enemy. This battle took the lives of most of the Gondolindrim, and of Turgon and his captains.

Glorfindel Re-embodiment - Glorfindel was one of the mightiest Elves of Middle-earth. During the First Age, he was the lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin, and died fighting a Balrog. After his re-embodiment, he was allowed to come back to Middle-earth in the Second Age, acting as an emissary of the Valar, on a similar mission to the Istari (Wizards) who were to come several years later.

Quenya - After the First Age, though, it does not appear that Quenya was used as anything other than a ceremonial or poetic language anywhere in Middle-earth. Sindarin took over as the language of daily use.

A/N: First Time writing Quenya for a Fic I hope I got the Quenya Translation right

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effervescentdragon · 2 years

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Aki. Just answer all the damn question. You want to answer them all and I want go know all of your answers.

I love how you know me so well :D I’ll answer the ones I haven’t covered in the asks before, which is like. Most of them :D :D

2. Favorite Chapter?

The Fall of Gondolin, definitely omfg, you know why, it’s THE chapter for me <3

3. Favorite Character?

ALL OF THEM. But like, canon - Glorfindel, Fingon, Maedhros, TYELPE MY DUMBASS SON <3 Curufin, Feanor, Galadriel, Elrond, Gil-Galad, Cirdan. Fanon - all my fanon of these plus Lalwen my queen, Findis, Elenwe.

5. Elves, Men, or Dwarves?

ALL OF THEM

6. Maiar or Balrogs?

Ugh. I’m indiffferent to Maiar unless it’s Annatar then I love and hate him, and maybe Eonwë, he’s kinda cool, I like heralds. Balrogs killed half my faves (the ones Sauron didn’t) so I don’t know. xD

7. Eagles or Dragons?

DRAGONS!! THE FUCKING EAGLES DIDN’T SAVE THORIN AND YES I KNOW THATS HOBBIT BUT FUCK.

8. OTP?

God. Russingon. (Also Cirdan x Lalwen).

9. What Age of Arda would you like to live in?

First Age, bring on the slaughter baby!

12.You can save one kingdom from destruction, which do you choose?

... fuck idk. Numenor I think. There’s something abt that place.

13. Would you want The Silmarillion to be made into a film or tv series?

NEITHER. FUCK THEM ALL. IT LIVES IN MY HEAD ON A LOOP WITH MY PERFECT CHARACTERS AND ANYTHING MADE WILL JUST RUIN IT BCS IT WOULDN’T BE RIGHT.

15. Post your favorite Ted Nasmith painting.

Oh God. I’m a magpie, or yakno, a dragon. The fucking Nauglamir, definitely.

16. Silmarils or Rings?

I’d fucking burn them all.

17. Are you glad the Last Battle isn't in the published Silmarillion?

I rly wish we could’ve seen how the Professor (re)imagined Ragnarok tbh.

18. What is the hardest name or word for you to pronounce?

Any of the fucking ones that start with “C”. I hate that it’s “K” and not “S” bcs it fucks with all my phonetics, given the translation practices in Slavic languages and just. UGH.

19. You get to save one character from dying. What would they do instead?

I’m cheating :)

I save Tyelpe, my stupidest son and the one I love with the fire of a thousand suns. He spends a month getting drunk about how stupid he was in love, until Elrond and Gil-Galad come to drag him away from Eregion. They dump him with Cirdan, who is a Good Dad, and helps him find his passion again. His passion becomes taking Sauron down. He tricks Sauron, who thinks Tyelpe is still in love with him. Tyelpe wants to seduce him and then kill him. Tyelpe seduces him but doesn’t kill him, bcs HES FUCKING NOT LIKE THAT AND HE DIES AGAIN OMFG TYELPE YOU STUPID FRICK!!!

20. What do you think Tolkien's message is about possession and wanting to possess?

Ugh. This is a smart one, and my brain is stupid atm, and not serious at all. Okay. Yeah, it doesn’t work. You think you own sth, but earthly posessions are so fucking irrellevant. An excuse to do terrible things. An excuse to sequester yourself, to not think on anything but the past. It fucking doesn’t work, and I’m projecting here, but it’s a fucking illusion. Idk how to elaborate atm, but ask me again at some point.

21. Would you have followed Fëanor from Valinor to Middle-earth?

Yes.

22. What is your opinion of Fëanor?

I wrote a whole post abt Feanaro here. Idk how much of it is still relevant, but at least some of it is I think.

23. Do you have pity for Melkor?

Ugh. No. Sorry, I’m working on being a better person, but it’s a slow process tbh.

25. You get to have a conversation with J.R.R. Tolkien. What would you want to talk about?

As I said before in the other ask, here is how it goes.

Jirt: Hello, my dear. What would you like to talk about?

Me, clenching my fists and gritting my teeth: I have but one question, Oh Great One.

Jirt: Ask, child. I am happy to answer.

Me, grabbing Jirt's collar whilst screaming and crying tears unnumerable: WHO THE FUCK IS EREINION'S DADDY JIRT?!?!?!?!?

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS MONSTROSITY, HERES A PIC OF MY BEDTIME READING FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS <3 (I only cried a little when I got it back)

#akira answers #The Silmarillion #silm ask game #russingon #ereinion WHOS YOUR DADDY #sae i love you #tyelpe you stupid frick

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