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#eönwë
cilil · 4 months
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Eru: Behold, children! I created the first of the Maiar!
Manwë: Oh! How cute!😍 (taps Eönwë's crib)
Eönwë: (starts chirping, full hungry baby bird mode)
Ossë: (starts violently shaking his crib while imitating storm noises)
Mairon: (signature look of superiority)
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batsyforyou · 2 months
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Mini Headcanons for Squishing their Cheeks Elves Addition + One Maia
Tags: Dramatic kisses, Squishing faces, crack?
Author's note: I already stated in my cod part of this but random nonsense is todays order lol.
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Squishing and kissing Glorfindel’s cheeks.
would do the same to you. Squish your cheeks and return your kisses. The affection makes Erestor sick lol 
Squishing and kissing Lindir’s cheeks
equals red tomato. He is embarrassed but loves it. Prays Elrond isn't around and that Erestor doesn't hear of it. Eventually he does grab a hold of your hands and kisses them.
Squishing and kissing Feanor’s cheeks
would equal in Dot. Dot. Dot. Blink. Would let it happen for like five seconds if it's in his office but if you try that with him in the forges your affections will get rejected a bit rudely. But don't take it to heart the forge it his main love lol
Squishing and kissing Celebrimbor’s cheeks
Would include baby melting into your touch. Giving you his best doe eyes + heart eyes while listening to your giggles. If it's in the forge he drops everything and freezes before he gets a hold of himself. Though his first reaction is freak out and get you away from what he’s working on. Because it's hot and potentially dangerous. But after that he kisses you with the passion only a feanorian can have.
Squishing and kissing Fingon’s cheeks
he pouts cutely and after getting his lips kissed he’d grin and move to tickle your sides. 
Squishing and Kissing Eönwë cheeks
You curl your finger and gesture for the tall maia to bend down to your height. Curious he raises a brow and accommodates you. Is shocked and surprised when you squish his cheeks and begin kissing him so dramatically. He flushes red embarrassed. Might even spot a judgemental Mairon peaking over his shoulder. “My love please.” Despite his 'disapproval' he lets you do what you want. His wings melting into the floor while listening to your happy giggles.
Squishing and Kissing Finrod's Cheeks
you tug on his hair and give him a good deep kiss to entice him closer before squishing and kissing his cheeks with vigor. He laughs and squeezes your hips and lifts you into his arms to set you on his shoulder. Showing off his strength and then it's his turn to laugh as you go bright red in the face.
Overall most of them can do without their faces getting squished lol.
Masterlist
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welcomingdisaster · 2 months
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tfw when your elf falls asleep on you mid poetry discussion & chill and now you can't get up to do your important maia business
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myceliumelium · 5 months
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Eönwë during the years of the trees, before anything too shitty happens!
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auurea · 3 months
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Indeed for a while mishap fell even upon bright Urwendi (Arien), that she wandered the dark grots and endless passages of Ulmo's realm until Fionwë (Eönwë) found her and brought her back to Valinor - but the full tale is called the Tale of Qorinómi and may not be here told.
Book of Lost Tales - The Hiding of Valinor
aka Eönwë's epic self-insert 200k friends to lover epic fantasy
Illustration for an oncoming Eönwë x Arien fanfiction (Vairë said she could not tell the tale and I took it personally)
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that-angry-noldo · 4 months
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The raven ponders if he enjoys the gore, while he takes the frontal lobe and eats some more
the king and the herald having a late night chat... or a hunt, maybe.
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verecunda · 4 months
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We all really need to spare a thought for Eönwë's stress-levels by the end of the War of Wrath, because they must have been off the charts. To wit: 1. Okay, so we've overthrown Morgoth and put an end to his vile reign. Cool. But now there's the logistical problems of keeping him bound and quiet for the duration of the trip back to Aman, and I highly doubt he's a passive, subdued kind of prisoner. Also he can't walk by himself any more, so there's that. (Probably should've thought twice about that hewing the feet from under him thing, but hey-ho.) 2. Due to the epic, apocalyptic nature of the WoW, Beleriand appears to have sprung a leak. Actually, a few leaks. Actually, quite a lot of leaks. Shitshitshit, time to organise the evacuation efforts! Also need to round up the Edain so they can be gifted that new island. 3. Got back the last two of Fëanor's problem gems (see point 1), but now his sons are still agitating to get them back. NO. No, you can't bloody well have them. And now, oh dear god, now they've decided they're going to commit Kinslaying... #4? #3.5? in order to get them back. Ugh. You know what? Have them. Fucking HAVE THEM. You'll get no fucking joy out of them but that's your look-out. .....Yeah, stings a bit, don't it? Well, I did try and warn you. 4. If that's not enough to be going on with, here comes bloody Sauron crawling out of the woodwork, batting his eyelashes and twirling his hair all like "oh I'm so sorry, I've been so naughty but if you forgive me, I promise I'll never, ever do it again." (Shit, forgot how pretty Mairon could be when he put his mind to it oh no oh no.) Oh God, this is so not my job description. Um... well, why don't you come back to Valinor and submit yourself to the Valar's judgme— oh, he's gone. Oh no.
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wormedeye · 3 months
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my new favorite art genre called eönwë covered in blood
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sorry for the art being too dark👉👈
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urwendii · 2 months
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It is time to reward the bravery of the Ring Bearers and Bilbo is summoned to the Forges of Aulë.
A little tribute to the @fellowshipofthefics discord, I'm not exactly a Hobbit girlie but writing Bilbo is always a delight and you guys are always so kind.
Some Bagginshield flavours. Taking some liberties with canon because I can.
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Bilbo had a very confusing day. If one could say so. It all started after his second breakfast when the Lady Galadriel came to visit him and Frodo- oh and what a breakfast it had been, Bilbo could not prove it but the quality of food in the Undying Lands really was outstanding. Frodo had even said so last time when they had taken a stroll in their garden. It had been a beautiful day with a blue sky and a crisp autumn wind. Bilbo loved the golden trees so very much.
But he was saying, ah yes. A very confusing day indeed. The Lady Galadriel had been accompanied by her husband the Lord Celeborn, a kind fella who answered a lot of Bilbo's questions about the technicalities of one of his Sindarin translation of a poem he had found in the library in Rivendell. Bilbo might even finish his work on this before the moon came full again. The Lord and his Lady had drank tea with them but refused any food - elves were strange like that, even so he might have to clarify they were indeed less strange than the others inhabitants of said mystical Lands. And indeed Bilbo had met some of them, as strange as they were. Looking like Elves or Men for most but Bilbo was no fool and could see the very much established otherness shining through their raiments.
Oh he was very fond of Gandalf indeed, and so glad his friend was there even though he was called Olórin here and that sounded too strange to Bilbo and so he kept calling him Gandalf because that was what his friend's name was for him.
So well today he was meeting another ! Ah yes for it was the purpose of the Lady Galadriel's visit. He was told to meet in Valmar - the city of many bells! Oh Bilbo was very excited indeed, Tírion he had visited often and often remained in the Palace's library - so many books ! So much knowledge. He felt a young hobbit again. Looked like one for that purpose too. Strange Lands indeed.
It had been peculiar that Frodo's presence was - if welcomed - not strictly mandatory and his nephew informed he would not mind staying home. Sometimes Frodo would simply stay and sleep. Ah, Bilbo could not blame him.
So he had gone. With the Lady and the Lord. To Valmar. The city of Maiar. The beings that were like Gandalf. And like another one whose name was not to be said too much because it seemed to greatly vexed many. Bilbo still had questions about his ring though. Ah well. He had packed a healthy elevenses and lunch (as well as other snacks, one could not be too cautious after all.)
Valmar stood proud and glorious, even outshining his most anticipated imaginings. The Lady and her husband seemed to know their way and up they went to a hill where a large building stood, decorated with many banners Bilbo recognised as Manwë's heraldry. The Elder King. Bilbo had never met him in person.
But it had not been the King awaiting him but his Herald. Standing tall and proud, Eönwë always seemed vexed, to Bilbo's humble opinion, there was a solemn expression on his face but the corners of his eyes had that tightness that Gandalf sometimes had with him in their younger years, when he seemed particularly exasperated by something Bilbo would do or say. Which was unfair because Bilbo had always been a delight. According to his good opinion of himself at least.
Eönwë was slightly intimidating though, in the way Ainur were - well aside Gandalf, but he was weird. He had been the one welcoming Frodo and Bilbo when they had reached the White Shores, making a grand speech with fancy words Bilbo had tried to pay attention too - he had been very hungry at that time! Now Bilbo wanted to ask him all sorts of questions.
This time and because he had been chewing on one of his snacks just before, he heard the words said and nodded when he was asked if he understood.
Well Bilbo was not stupid thank you very much. He was told to go with Eönwë to Aulë's forges - the Elder King had ruled on a decree, it was to be a formal thank you to the Ring Bearers, Frodo and Bilbo and Bilbo's award was different than his nephew and so he had to go to the Forges.
Why? He asked and asked again but every answer was similar to the way Gandalf would sometimes answer his queries, riddles that only made sense if you were a strange wizard.
Eönwë said not much actually, he monotously told Bilbo he would fly them here, the Lady and Lord were met with a polite bow and to pass his greeting to the Lady's father. And then off they went.
Flying! Oh Bilbo had once flew on the back of a Great Eagle! How amazing it had been. Ah. He missed these times. Now gone with the long years of his life but never regretted once.
He inquired on the method of transportation, to which the Herald wordlessly replied by opening large silver wings attached to his back. Bilbo had seen many wonders in his life but being carried by a winged person - not a great Eagle! Oh what a joy to be alive! The trip did not take long but it certainly made Bilbo hungry again and he told Eönwë so when they landed in front of a towering building where a cacophony of hammers hiting metal could he heard.
That seemed to confuse the Maia as he stood awkwardly by Bilbo's side while he sat down on the stair to unpack a loaf of bread, some honey, nuts, cheese and berries.
All better he decided after finishing eating. The polite thing to do had been to offer some to Eönwë but that seemed to make the Maia even less at ease. Strange strange creatures indeed. Ah well. More for him then.
Eönwë informed him they didn't eat - there was no need apparently and Bilbo thought that maybe that was why he looked not exactly really happy. Maybe Sauron would have been less evil if he too had some food once in a while. Bilbo could not imagine living his life without and would have certainly shared some of his snacks in exchange for seeing his ring once more.
The Halls were immense, even by a tall person standard but Bilbo could not help but stare at everything, there were wonders hung on the walls, resplendent armours exhibited, swords of ancient times, mundane objects, fountains, ingenious mechanism, clocks. What a lively place!
An imposing shape came to them, bushy red beard and golden eyes, a sturdy leather apron tied around his waist. Aulë welcomed both of them, his voice booming in the high ceiling.
"Welcome!" And said other things to them to Eönwë in what he learned to be Valarin. What a delightful language to try learning! So complicated and challenging. The Lady Galadriel had told him only one Elve ever mastered it and Bilbo was confused to learn he was not there. Oh yes he needed to finish the records of the First Age about the House of Fëanor and his sons.
That reminded him Frodo had mentioned something interesting the other evening during dinner. They had had a delicious potage from the gardens' vegetables - carrots, butternut, potatoes and garlic.
Oh, but he should focus on the conversation.
He asked Lord Aulë - or Lord Mahal if he knew the engineering behind Sting, his and Frodo's beloved sword.
"It grew blue when orcs were near."
Aulë seemed delighted with Bilbo's following questions, so many new things to learn that Bilbo did not immediately register when they entered a smithy, and another person was standing there.
A discreet cough had been what refocused him on his surroundings, finding Eönwë standing near...a dwarf.
Bilbo blinked. Once. Twice. Oh. Almost swoon.
Oh.
"I see you haven't lost your constant chatter." Thorin remarked and Bilbo would possibly need a seat soon if he could have one, yes thank you, ah.
"A prerogative of mine own creations." Aulë said. Eönwë explained this was Bilbo's gift. From the King.
Bilbo possibly would have said something if he had not been busy gaping and then sniffling and then- ah a hug felt nice, very nice indeed. He hadn't had such a nice hug in so long.
"You need to meet Frodo." He said amongst other things and "Oh Gandalf will be joyful to see you again." And "I need to tell you about the Ring I found." And "I'm so happy." And so many words that would take too long to record in pages for some feelings could only be felt. He would write them down though.
There and back again. Ah yes, very nice indeed.
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naarisz · 1 year
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I doodled some Maiar again! <3
Eönwë, Mairon and Ilmarë, Curumo and Mairon again, Olórin and Curumo again
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cilil · 11 months
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I feel like Eönwë hanging out on Númenor has underrated crack fic potential.
His War of Wrath buddies convincing him to go bar hopping with them
So many people shamelessly hitting on the poor bird boy. at least half of the time, he doesn't get it
Getting stuck everywhere due to Maia size and wings until Eönwë finally adjusts his fána
People asking him to fly around and let them ride on his back
Someone's grandma not knowing/not realizing who he is and calling him "young lad"
Everything just being so much more hectic compared to Valinor
All the #justmortalthings he doesn't get and all the #justbirdthings and #justainurthings they don't get
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doodle-pops · 5 months
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The Delicacy of a Dove
Eonwe x reader
Kinktober 2023: Corruption Kink
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A/N: Not gonna lie, I struggled to stay on board with this kink. I just needed to perfect the dialogue in order to get the ball running.
Warnings: fem!reader, corruption kink, outdoor intimacy, fingering, making out, groping, a bit of Eӧnwё’s avian side appearing, innocent reader
Words: 3.1k
Synopsis: Tapped in a furry of desiring you the moment you became his devotee, Eönwë never lost sight of doing everything in his power to have you under his control, no matter the cost.
List of Requests
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His two fingers lifted and beckoned you over to the stand at the edge of the pool where he sat, washing off after a vigorous tournament. Weariness sat in his eyes despite the darkened appearance it took the moment you walked through the glass doors after being summoned. Even his wings appeared wilder and frantic, frizzled and puffier than usual whenever he was committed to a match. You knew after the numerous occasions spent assisting him with washing his wings—the most delicate act and he chose you to aid. There wasn’t anything you took of the gestures besides him trusting your ability to ensure maximum care and affection to his most prized features.
Now you stood with your hands cupped before you, knees and feet touching together and an inch away from the edge of the pool. Your eyes were bright and cheery, eager to fulfil any of his requests with diligence and satisfaction. However, to Eӧnwё, those were not the first features he took in the moment you appeared before him; if it were not for the flustered appearance and the shift in your scent, he would have gone about his day like any ordinary person, but he wasn’t. Those were never the signs of an ordinary eager person willing to please their Lord; you were his exceptional devotee who did whatever it took to satisfy his needs. And he was sure you found the idea of being his servant thrilling just as he did, the only problem was the lack of visual gratitude.
“You called my Lord Eӧnwё,” you answered with readiness in your tone and slightly bouncing on the tip of your toes. He drank in the sight of everything you did, from the soft smile and eyes to the bouncing on your toes to the aroused state your body was left in. The roundness of your nipples was peeking through the thin material of your dress.
Satisfied with his observations, he rocked back against the wall and hitched his left foot upon the bench, his lower body still submerged beneath the water. His elbow rested upon his kneecap, allowing him to leisurely rest his head into the palm of his hand and gaze hungrily. He could feel his inner self snapping and chastising him for taking forever to make the move, though Eӧnwё was most reasonable and aware that coaxing was required to get you right where you should be for taking.
“I did, and I require something from you, little one,” he assured with the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “However, I am concerned this request may be too far–reaching for your lovely self to handle.”
“Too far–reaching, my Lord?” You were stunned at his assumption; never before has he ever doubted your capabilities. “Forgive me, but I find your statement a bit insulting given my dedication when it comes to ensuring satisfaction is achieved even if I must go to great lengths.”
The frown that formed was eye candy to Eӧnwё and only urged him to push you further. Arching his brow in contest to your frowning, his chin jutted outwards with the expectation of riling you further, and in gratification, he was successful. Following the frown, your eyes grew glossy with tears threatening to overflow as they were summoned rapidly. “Great length you say. Tell me,” he began, shifting his body so that he was now standing waist–deep in the shallow waters and giving you a view of his warrior’s appeal, “how far are you willing to go in order to prove your capabilities?”
His question once again stunned you. Your Lord had never been judgemental or sceptical of your devotedness, always a pleasing smile and warm ‘thank you’ being bequeathed. Had your most recent performance lacked passion and devotion? Perhaps this was his reason for summoning, a test of how far you were willing to prove your gratitude and appreciation.
“Permission to approach?” you requested and waited for his nod of approval before carefully shuffling over to the three threaders at the entrance to the pool. As your posture changed from hands before to attention, so did Eӧnwё. Facing you head–on, your eyes swiftly took in the droplets of water which clung to his skin like a fragrance, his semi–wet hair and gorgeously tanned body, though, it was the lack of the electrifying blue in his orbs that alerted you of his other avatar present. A message to be cautious with your response. “As your devoted follower My Lord, it pains me to learn of your disappointment towards my performance. It is my responsibility to ensure absolute happiness in my servitude. So, to answer your question—whatever I must do.”
You were smart to understand he was displeased, but not enough to be aware of his faux goading. You were dancing in the palm of his hands to his every word and tune.
Poking the tip of his tongue to kiss the corner of his mouth, he then ran it over his lips with his focus like a hawk on your expression. He was delighted such a casual interaction would ignite a wonderous outcome with the probabilities in his favour, and with the change in his disposition, his forefinger lifted to beckon you over.
“Come,” he commanded, voice laced with compulsion and honey and eyes full of seduction. They darkened further with a ring of gold and eyes becoming slits; features you had seen before and understood, yet the pronunciation of them in this predicament was strange. “Treat with me.”
Your body was compelled before your mind was able to react, foot in front of the other, you stepped down the threader until your feet were emersed in the water. The rest was easy as your dress became soaked the further you waded until you came to stand before your Lord, tall and magnificent as the dawn. His wings fluttered and flapped at your approach, more ruffled prior to the beginning of the night. There was the instinctive urge to reach out and brush your fingers across his plumage as you were normally granted, but your hands were tied, waiting patiently for his chain of command in order to prove your great lengths.
His right hand was the first to move between you both, sloshing through the water and collecting enough droplets to let them fall against your dress. The thinness of the material was no warrior to fight against the transparency the water provided to access your skin. More specifically, he doused the water over your bosom for a better view of your chest, ensuring that droplets fell directly onto your erected nipples. Listening to your astonished gasps and noticing the motions of your hands gripping the ends of your dress goaded him on.
His left hand soon joined him, however, instead of splashing more water, he gave a sudden tug to your body and pressed you against his chest. In an instant, both arms encircled your waist, followed by his wings cocooning you both. The proximity brought unhinged thoughts, being pressed against his bare body and feeling the outline of his manhood bumping against your thigh like another arm. Your indecorous thoughts were getting the better of you for you were unable to look him in his eyes.
“Are you alright?” he mused before dipping his head into the crook of your neck and ghosting your skin with his lips. “You’re trembling like a frightened little dove.”
“I do not believe—ah!” you gasped as your words were cut–off by the suddenness of his teeth sinking into your flesh before his tongue swiped over the area to soothe the ache. “My Lord!”
“Hmm,” he mumbled, deaf to whatever you were about to say while his lips worked their way across your neck, tasting your skin and groaning at the fulfilment of how sweet you tasted after longingly fantasising. His arms instinctively tightened around your waist eliciting a sharp gasp from you, but also allowed him to be closer and feel your warmth and erratic heartbeat. His favourite sound in the world, and he knew it from the soft lub–dub sounds it echoed—a melody that enticed him easily.
Lost for words on your end, you didn’t know where to place your hands as he ravished your neck in a litter of kisses. Were you permission to touch him while he donned great magnitudes to pleasure? But it should be the other way around?
“M–My Lord,” you managed to stutter out, yet unable to gain his attention. It wasn’t until your hands found the confidence to lift and press against his chest with as much force to capture his attention, that he stopped. However, his silence was questioning as he stood menacingly, waiting for your speech. “Should it not be I, who should be condoning the pleasure given the declaration to prove my great lengths?”
Suddenly, he laughed. He laughed an amused laughter at your innocence. Even his wings shook at the adorableness of the proposed inquiry.
Unravelling his hands around your waist, you were abruptly spun around, encouraging your back to collide with his chest. Once again, you were ensnared by him, left with no choice but to allow your Lord to have his way and remain obedient. Unfortunately for you, when his lips returned to your neck, they parted to answer your question. “Your great lengths of devotion will be proven by allowing me to have my way,” he groaned.
Finding his hands, you gripped his wrists as they glided upwards and over your bosom to tug against the sleeves of your dress. “But firstly, these must come off before we truly indulge.”
His words of confirmation triggered your ability to willingly serve without complaint, knowing that your form of satisfaction with the pleasure he condoned was all that mattered. It was appalling that your Lord wished to achieve pleasure through you when so many other followers governed the grounds. Truly, you must have done something astronomical to obtain such commendation. All that was required was your devotion towards showing him how diligently he performed.
The desire to get the show on the road surpassed the wait for your verbal response as you reached for your own sleeves and pushed the material over your shoulder. Though Eӧnwё was impatient and had no desire for a seductive undressing, he ripped the now tattered material apart and left it to float in the pool. Unable to contain himself any longer with the spectacular view of your naked body, his eyes and hands roamed in coordination, unsure of where to focus on first.
“Long have I waited for this moment,” he announced, hands finally finding purchase on your breast, tugging and rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “Long have I desired to have you, little dove.”
From his point of view, your body moved too naturally against his own as he groped your breast and rubbed his erection against your butt. The slip and slide of your sweaty and wet skin, fumbling to stay together and in rhythm pursued in the privacy of his domain. He groped and squeezed your chest while his lips created fresh designs across your shoulder and neck. There was barely any ability to contain himself, wanting nothing more than to bend you over the edge and take you until you could bear no more. To no longer watch from the distance and imagine himself all over you but having you in his arms like this was peak imagination.
When he had grown tired of touching your breast, he dropped his left hand to the most sacred place of yours while the other travelled to cup your neck. Teeth grazing your earlobe and breathing fervidly, your high–pitched cries were better than his groans as he rubbed your clit. You were so damn sensitive and soaked with every swipe of his fingers through your fold. He should have claimed you from the start instead of building the anticipation.
Barking instructions for you to carry out, curious to see whether or not his calculations were correct. In the end, he was. There wasn’t the faintest idea on your end of the spectrum when it came to the understanding behind the reasons for his actions. He felt partially horrible for taking advantage of you, but your eagerness to prove your worth and those honeyed words from your lips every time you smiled. He would have ripped his own wings out due to frustration instead of touching himself off every night to your sweet smiles and softness.
Placing a tighter grip around your neck and squeezing the sides, he tilted your neck backwards to meet your shut eyes and parted lips. “You touch yourself, don’t you dove?” Your reply was a whimper before your hips began rocking against his fingers as they slid in and out. “Do you think of me when you cum?”
“M–My Lord!” you yelped as his fingers grazed the tip of your sweet spot.
Contented with the responses, he leaned in to kiss your cheeks and then looked up to continue observing your expressions. Priceless is what he would classify them; no other follower, whether they be as innocent as you could make him feel so devoted to willingly serving and gaining pleasure for his and their benefit. You broke him into wanting you, however, when he was through, tonight would surely not be your last.
So focused on your pleasure, loving the sensation of you gripping him and the warmth encompassing, he was overcome with the urge to be merciful and unmerciful at the same time. Push you to see how far you could take pleasure like a good devotee.
“I want you to remember the feeling of me fucking you whenever I’m not there. Feel my touches and unravel yourself as though I was. Always come back for more because you’re my good little follower,” he chanted, bewitching your body, mind and soul with every whisper and enunciation. “Can you do that for me?”
Fighting for your life, you found it impossible to believe a godly like him could destroy the very fabric of your mentality with his words, body and actions. It was damn near impossible to squeeze out ‘yes’ the way you wanted to. The grip around your throat wasn’t even the cause of it, simply his presence suffocating yours and alluring you like bees to honey. God, you wanted more than your body could handle—it didn’t matter if he ruined you. You were pleased to have at least served him properly one last time.
“Good girl,” he praised and pushed his fingers with more fervour against your sweet spot. “Going to give me your sweetness? Come on, you’re almost there.”
The sheer volume of inconsequential power you felt against him as he took control of your orgasm and showed you who was in charge, humbled your view on how far his power reigned. This was what it felt like to be in the favour of an ethereal being, not just being praised and offered gifts, but having them serve you to show gratitude. The thought of never giving yourself like a sacrificial orifice to a being used to be your number one motto…until you began serving the Herald of Lord Manwë. His duty and sacrifices were worthy more than fetching water and preparing a meal of food. You now understood it meant warming his bed at night and keeping his stamina efficient.
With the release of your neck, Eӧnwё allowed for the violent thrashing of your body against his as your orgasm took over and consumed you. The high–pitched squeals you sang with broken syllables of his name were euphoric. He’d kill to hear you cry out his name again. Holding you in place while you shivered uncontrollably in his arms, his hands resumed their roaming, mapping out all your bodily features to remember for lonely times. From your thighs to your hips to your stomach and back to your breasts, he groped every inch of you. Long gone in his mind was his prominent erection weeping against your ass, but the time was coming to place him out of his misery, and you were the solution.
Therefore, turning you in his embrace and avoiding your body collapsing, there was the fluid shuffle of him throwing your arms around his neck and his arms hooking under your thighs. You weren’t aware of his body contorting about the place while you still suffered the effects of your climax, but you became when you suddenly felt airborne. Wading through the water and ignoring the confused looks you threw, he returned to his bench with you now resting in his lap.
With the gain in a new form of comfort, allowing him to move not only himself but you, he retracted his forearms from under your thighs to immediately cup your face for a kiss. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t the first thing he hadn’t done from the very start. But with the opportunity presented, he wasted not a moment to pry your lips apart and slip his tongue inside for a heated kiss. Filled with his visceral nature, the aggression was skyrocketing and snatching away your ability to keep up. It was he who led the kiss, and dictated its pacing. The catering of your noses and teeth colliding was the least of his worries as he pried moans and mewls, and the gentle rocking of your body against his erection.
Lust was in the air the deeper you gravitated towards him, allowing your very fibre to be consumed. From cupping your neck, his hands slithered to your waist to aid in your gyrating. You almost thought with the occupation of kissing you, he would forget about focusing on praising and guiding you. “Take your time, dove. Move nice and slowly for me—just like that,” he hissed as he broke the kiss to look down to where your lower lips were running over his cock and dribbling it in your arousal. The sight ceased to restrain the feral urge to become unapologetic and take you with aggression. Growling, the deep reverberations caught you off guard.
“I don’t think I can hold myself back any longer.” A warning was emitted once his hands ceased your grinding and one slipped in between to grip his member to run the tip through your folds. “I need you right now!”
Understanding the weight of his words and necessities, with an eager and obedient nod of your head, you gave him acceptance without hesitation. “Do as you please, My Lord, for my body belongs to you.”
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Masterlist
Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @lilmelily @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @aconstructofamind @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @wandererindreams @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @asianbutnotjapanese @justjane @justellie17 @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou
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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 17 days
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Little Prince
Day 1 for @manweweek
Prompts: Family | Breath & Air
Pairing: BoLT version of Manwë/Varda with baby Fionwë Úrion (Eönwë)
Themes: Soft
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 500+ words
Summary: Baby Fionwë is taken outside for the first time so the others could see him.
This is also available on AO3
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A deep but welcomed hush settled within the lofty halls and vast chambers of Ilmarin. Heralds went forth to the furthest corners of the Almaren and beyond, carrying with them the words of their lord and lady to all who wished to hear them.
“Perfect in every way. And already strong,” Manwë declared heartily, cradling the still-amorphous spirit of his firstborn in his arms. His eyes filled with awe when his son stirred, alert and curious. “And I wager it would not be long before he could weave an earthly vessel for himself.”
His queen came to him, her star-speckled skin already holding a glow of renewed vitality. Varda found unspeakable joy in light for as long as she could remember, and the orbs that burned bright in the sky were once her greatest creation. Then she and her lord husband came together and created a new life—a little prince that would be their joy. The very notion of it was enough to leave her humbled and overawed.
“Little Fionwë,” she lilted, smiling when their son reached up and caressed her cheek. Warmth radiated from his touch, as did love. Varda believed he was smiling at her. “As brilliant as the stars and destined for great things, I can feel it in the very depths of my spirit. Come, my lord. It is time our child saw something of the world we all fashioned with our song.”
Her king agreed, following her onto a balcony open to the sky. Fionwë took his first breath of cool mountain air and laughed. It echoed sweetly across the still, star-filled night. Vivid, sparkling orbs of golden light—a visible sign of his delight—burst to life all around him when he laughed, floating in the air like great puffy heads of dandelions gone to seed. Then music flowed forth from all over Almaren and the Timeless Halls, all harps and lutes and viols, filling the star-filled night like Fionwë's laughter did before. The others of their kind sang to welcome the little prince, their voices arising as one and joining the music in a sound of interwoven melodies of indescribable beauty and harmony, and glory that filled the heavens and the earth to overflowing, and the echo of that music caused the very stars themselves to burn brighter, their light increasing and increasing until it seemed like a million brilliant lamps flickered against a never-ending field of indigo and violet and lilac. 
“Eru is pleased, my darling. And so are the others," the king remarked while the music of the others went on, filling him with great joy. "Our son has been blessed.”
“Indeed. Now we must go back in,” said Varda, “and prepare ourselves to receive the others.”
They returned to their chambers, and Fionwë began to fuss. He could not understand why they could not tarry a little longer. He wanted to see more of the stars and hear more of the others singing. And since he could not still form proper words, he made his displeasure known in another way, with short, breathy grunts and the tightening of little fists that had already begun to take form. Light burst into life again; this time, it showed itself as orbs of dark red. 
“I think we have a warrior in this one,” his father observed, laughing.
“We do indeed,” the queen replied indulgently. “Be patient, little one, and do not fret. Your father and I will take you out again.”
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tags@asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou
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fissart · 3 months
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I rise from the dead and called back to my roots, I bare gifts of Mairon X Eöwnë for funsies 💖
I have missed this fandom and all the characters 😭
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i-did-not-mean-to · 14 days
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FireBird - March
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Ah, my dear friend @cilil was so good to send in a couple of requests!
It's my joy and honour to present the first fic to you tonight :D
Prompts: “The worst part is you didn’t even notice” – “I don’t need a gentleman right now.” – Responsibility – Knight in shining armour
Pairing: Eönwë x Gothmog
Words: 1030
Warnings: Injury, blood, sadness, bad elves, good Eönwë
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“Let him be, I’ll take care of it,” Eönwë called, feeling the back of his neck heat up as the despicable half-truth crossed his dry lips.
Nobody had expected the co-habitation of once inveterate foes to be easy, and Eönwë even secretly believed that Manwë could and should have been more discouraging when it came to the outright hostile behaviour towards the reformed former denizens of Angband.
Unfortunately, the reality turned out to be much worse than anything the kind-hearted herald had ever imagined.
“Milord,” the group of reembodied Elves muttered and withdrew reluctantly.
It was forbidden for the Balrogs to travel in groups, and much too often resentful, unforgiving members of the High Houses liked to corner Melkor’s fallen servants and harass them cruelly.
“Away with you,” Eönwë called sternly. “Leave it to me!”
Of course, Eönwë did not doubt that any of the fearsome Maiar could have defended themselves against a few puny incarnates, but he took his role as a keeper of the peace very seriously.
Moreover, he was eager for this one Balrog in particular to understand that he was on his side, as much as that was even possible anymore.
“Bird,” Gothmog purred, leaning heavily against a boulder, and trying to angle his body so as to dissimulate the minor wounds the group of pesky troublemakers had inflicted upon him. “Have you come to chide me? I swear upon my honour that I’ve not laid a single claw upon your precious Children.”
At that ludicrous declaration, Eönwë let his frown deepen disapprovingly.
He knew Manwë’s stipulations only too well—after all, he had been the one tasked to convey them to the unfortunate souls they concerned—but, in his heart of hearts, he nevertheless much regretted to see his friend and lover hurt because of a set of cold, unfeeling rules.
“You’re allowed to defend yourself against those who’d seek to harm you,” he murmured insistently.
“And risk your displeasure, beloved? From your sweet lips came the ordinance to renounce my evil ways, and I shall do so, no matter the cost to my health and heart,” Gothmog replied calmly.
Unfortunately, his efforts at clumsy gallantry were considerably hampered by the fact that he was by now slowly slumping under the strain of desperately pretending that he was perfectly hale and happy.
“You look particularly appetising today, bird,” Gothmog tried to assuage the worry in the bright, sky-blue eyes of his most cherished enemy. “I mean, you look handsome.”
Eru’s long-haired pet meat bags might never have understood it, but there were truths and affinities sung into creation that far transcended their very limited interpretation of beauty and affection.
Thus, it had come to pass that these fierce warriors—having fought ferociously on opposite fronts in a seemingly eternal war—had ultimately found well-deserved peace in one another.
As all star-crossed lovers were wont to asseverate, they naturally were willing to selflessly die for the other.
Living, they’d soon found out, was a much more arduous and treacherous challenge.
Ever diligent to the point of undeniable stubbornness, Gothmog had decided that he’d use his new-found freedom to give Eönwë what he clearly yearned for so desperately: a proper romantic courtship.
“Could I interest you in a leisurely stroll by the river then?” the Balrog asked in a forcibly level voice.
“Don’t be silly,” Eönwë exclaimed. “You are injured! This is hardly the moment for pleasant walks by the water. Let me see!”
Indeed, the herald’s heart ached as he glimpsed the superficial but undoubtedly painful gashes marring Gothmog’s precious, gleaming hide.
“I shall have words with them,” he grumbled, gnashing his flawless teeth.
“Do not trouble yourself on my account, my sweetling,” Gothmog assured him quickly as he tried to squirm away from the inquisitive fingers ghosting across his skin and threatening to undo his carefully constructed façade of good manners and gentle words.
“They are my responsibility,” Eönwë opined. “And so are you, you foolhardy creature! If you will not defend yourself, will you at least promise to call for me if this ever happens again?”
His stern gaze softened, and his pursed lips relaxed into a charming smile. “I quite like being your knight in shining armour.”
As if embarrassed by his own confession, he drew his wings up defensively.
“Keep talking,” Gothmog drawled. The cocky, teasing grin he flashed Eönwë now was genuine, despite his tangible discomfort.
“You’re not the only one who’s trying to impress by putting his best foot forward, and the worst thing is, you didn’t even notice…” Eönwë complained softly, rubbing a blood-stained hand along his chiselled jaw shamefacedly.
“What do you believe has escaped my notice? How competently you’ve handled this situation, getting rid of these unwelcome intruders with aplomb and grace? Or your indescribable beauty as you arrived on the scene like an avenging entity made of summer bliss and autumn storms? You underestimate me, my winged wonder, for I am humbled by every awe-inspiring detail of your appearance and demeanour!”
“Humbug,” Eönwë mumbled, flattered despite suspecting that he was being lovingly mocked. “I don’t need a gentleman right now, Gothmog. Tell me how bad it is…Should I bring you to Estë?”
“Pah! Estë!” Gothmog guffawed. “What for? To be fussed over endlessly? ‘tis but a scratch, I tell you.”
Lifting his arm slowly, he cupped Eönwë’s cheek tenderly. “Please, believe me when I say that neither your entirely unnecessary preoccupation nor your gentle care has gone unnoticed.”
Beneath the soothing, healing caress of the one he loved against all odds and despite the bitter feud engraved into their very souls, Gothmog finally relaxed.
“When you arrived, I couldn’t help thinking how marvellous it is to see you appear like a ray of sun cutting through the blinding, burning mist of battle and to know that you’ve not come to smite me.”
“I am on your side, you know?” Eönwë whispered, curling up against the living heat of the terrible fire demon.
“There are no sides anymore,” Gothmog reminded him, quoting the announcement that had allowed them to meet and reconnect once more.
“Nevertheless…”
“Yes,” Gothmog yawned, slinging his arm around his beloved hero. “Thank you!”
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-> Masterlist
Lots of love from me! (I shall be busy this weekend, but I theoretically am still willing to write something for this <3)
@fellowshipofthefics You didn't think that I'd skip this one, did you? LOL
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batsyforyou · 3 months
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Eönwë Sleep Headcanons
Pairing: Eönwë x reader
Tags: A bit of a ramble in the beginning, sleeping, wings, turning like a Rotisserie chicken, 
Warnings: Can’t think of any 
Author’s Note: I’m not back yet. I just wanted to post something before I lost it in my docs.
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Depending on my mood I either Headcanon that Eönwë has long shimmering white hair or long warm brown hair, both with piercing blue eyes. 
Which means that in my brain the color of his wings are usually brown and cute in a birds coloring more than the rare coloring white gives him 
Don’t ask me how that works I don’t know either 
But considering that Maia and Valar are capable of changing their appearance it could be both. Like on days he spends besides Manwë he makes himself white? 
Though considering that white is actually a significant color to the Maia we can probably guess that between the two, he'd be white most of the time to establish rank. 
Why is this detail important? 
It isn’t really. But it depends on how glittery you want your cuddle bug, to be fair 
With the white I can easily see him shimmering more but with the brown I can see him being like a normal person. 
Sleeping with him can be a bit of a challenge as he normally doesn’t require sleep
He just lays down with you for the night simply for the excuse to hold you and for the intimacy of it 
He does struggle on finding ways to be comfortable though 
I don’t really headcanon that he is able to remove pieces of or reshape himself drastically 
So, his wings are the major problem factor and also the best factor 
Because of his height (me headcanoning that he is at least 13-15 feet tall) he is always concerned about hurting you somehow 
And while he would prefer to hold you while you rest on his chest his wings get in the way 
And laying on his side is also bothersome some times 
So he mostly just wraps you in his arms and turns on his different sides if he stays to still on one specific side 
He also does find enjoyment in cuddling with you while you sleep on your stomach 
He’ll curl his arms around you and lay his head on your lower back and rest over your bottom half 
That way he isn’t on his wings but he also isn’t crushing, he’s just sitting there like a weighted blanket 
Sometimes with how tightly he holds you to him or if he is wrapping you in his wings like some kind of feathery cocoon. You can sometimes wake up in the middle of the night with a feather or two poking at your mouth or tickling your bare skin.
But one of your favorite things about waking up in the mornings is that when you wake up well rested or not you always find a stray white or brown feather in your hair and that makes you smile. 
You usually keep such prizes and when he teases you, smirking up at you for collecting his feathers. You just playfully take the feather you found and tickle his nose with it. 
He runs at the perfect temperature never to cold or to warm 
Just like the feeling of being curled up in the grass as you lay in the sun 
Overall other than the constant movement Eönwë is an 8/10 sleep buddy
Masterlist
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