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#mairon x eonwe
cilil · 2 months
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And here's my fic for @myslashyvalentine, written for @maironite:
Herald, Hero, Muse
Was this what desire felt like? Did he desire the proud fire spirit who was currently sculpting his likeness? What would happen if his fantasy by some miracle became reality?  Though deep down Eönwë knew the answer to that already. Too easily could he imagine himself giving in to Mairon's touch, kneeling on the ground and presenting himself to him in whichever manner he wished, inviting him to explore all of his fána and use it for his own pleasure. 
ʚ Pairings & characters: Mairon x Eönwë, some miscellaneous mentions of other Ainur
ʚ Synopsis: Mairon tries his hand at sculpting and is looking for a model and muse. Eönwë is happy to help.
ʚ Featuring: Eönwë is inexperienced and a sweetheart, pre-corruption Mairon, posing & sculpting
ʚ Warnings: Nudity, sexual content (explicit)
⪼ Read on AO3
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wormedeye · 4 months
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i thought much about maionwë with russian-musical-raistlin/crysania dynamic lately...
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urwendii · 2 months
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Pairing: Eönwë x Mairon
Wordcount: 4k
Rating: E
Summary:
Mairon has always outshone most of them, always aimed higher, always surpassed. Eönwë can’t help himself to feel curious about the fire Maia, can’t help the attraction, can’t keep away. As Mairon attracts the attention of another one, Eönwë sets himself to keep his friend by their sides. What he does not know yet is that to prevent the corruption of another soul, he might pay a heavy price for his own. 
Written for @myslashyvalentine for @cilil 💝 in which this year's matching was ICONIC 😂
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doodle-pops · 5 months
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“How Much Do You Love Me?”
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A/N: This was originally planned for the underrated character event and ended up being scrapped at the last minute. Enjoy!
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I’D DIE FOR YOU…in a heartbeat, if you ever asked them to choose, they would instead give their lives so that you can continue living. They preferably die, even if the act was selfish, which meant leaving you alone for the rest of your life. It would pain them to leave you behind to suffer and grieve their deaths, but it was better than staining their hands with blood while continuing to live. It simply wasn’t a part of their nature. It felt more heroic to give their life to save the love of theirs.
Celebrimbor, Fingolfin, Fingon, Argon, Finarfin, Finrod, Angrod, Aegnor, Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Egalmoth, Rog, Galdor, Beleg, Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, Erestor, Gil Galad, Manwë, Irmo, Námo, Eönwë, Tilion
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I’D KILL FOR YOU…and there’s no joking around when some got on their knees and swore to remove anyone and anything that threatened to harm or take you away from them. They have no issue in removing the enemy with their hands—getting them dirty was all a part of your protection. The act of taking someone’s life never or no longer bothers them so long as you remain safe and alive.
Feanor, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, Amras, Fingon, Turgon, Maeglin, Thingol
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I'D BURN THE WORLD FOR YOU…and they would do it in a heartbeat if that was the only way for the both of you to live in peace without any enemies and threats. A guaranteed method to sustain both your happiness and forever. A world without anyone to obstruct your love and steal either of you away. They would set the world on fire to remove everything so long as you remain at their side, and from the ashes, they’ll merely create a new world for you both to live in peace.
Feanor, Thingol, Melkor, Mairon
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Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819
If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link to join.
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Ainur as Aesthetics: 
Melkor  —  eye-rolls, either sleep for the week or sleep is for the weak, great music taste, extremely passionate, smarter than you'd think, abandoned cities, alcohol, doesn't care about opinions, midnight hours, black coffee, hates humanity, cold hands, barely-there eyeliner, sharp smiles, lace-up boots, doesn't like to be told what to do, anger so blinding that you forget where and who you are, staring at the mirror until your features start to disappear, bad decisions, their words can hit you like a gunshot, the chilling sensation of metal on your skin, sharp claws ready to slash anyone they encounter, shattered antique mirrors, long dark scarves, dark and tousled hair, swallowing hard, a little broken.
Manwë  —  pale white snow, red cheeks, dried flowers that used to be the colour of the sun, quiet half-smiles, sunlight coming through an open window in the morning, hair tucked behind ears, gives the most thoughtful gifts, always neat, sparkly jewellery, beautiful poetry, comforting hugs, light footsteps, kisses on cheeks, a laugh like wind chimes, thunderstorms that you feel in your chest, intelligent eyes, collector of small objects, windswept hair, loves their friends with almost an unhealthy amount of loyalty, the colour of the sky at dusk, a crisp autumn breeze, soft hair, gold-flecked souls, the one who is there for you even when you think you don't need them, singing under their breath, smiles as the rain falls down and laughs as their hair lifts in the breeze.
Varda  —  cracked spines of leather-bound classics, sharing pieces of your soul with the world, starting revolutions with simple words, rosewater, cherry blossom petals floating through the wind, making promises, midnight conversations, writing into abysmal nothingness, stargazing, knowing smiles, doesn't open up easily, soft skin, crystals, a night where the clouds hide the moon, stories swirling in your mind, cursive letters, piercing eyes, whispers filled with secrets, studying things that do not exist, bright flashes of light outside your window, silk bedsheets, mysterious, handwritten notes, stays up so late it's early, plays quiet music for ambiance, fingertips stained with ink.
Ulmo  —  bodies full of stories, a will that ebbs and flows, lazy smiles, no real devotion to anything but existence itself, wordless lullabies, glassy blue eyes, moves with grace and rhythm, late night swims, blue tie dyed sheets, flowing outfits, the rough ocean at night, tall waves and bitter winds, salty hair, long limbs, kind of sad and tired but you've never see them cry, goes with the flow, quiet voice but loud meaning, walks with purpose, always looks their best, very kind and giving, seashells, loud laughter, perfect posture, habit of overthinking, bare feet, ice-cold lemonade, laying on the ground to soak up the sun, sand in the air, intricate designs, high ceilings, dim lights, bitten nails.
Aule  — confident, likes to perform, acts cool but is secretly emotional underneath, bold/dark colours, loves challenges, gets mad and forgives just as quickly, wouldn't change for anyone, laughing so loudly that strangers stare at you, running around like crazy person with your lover, compliments a stranger's crazy hair colour and feeling so good when they smile, unhealthy amounts of candy, fiery red sunsets, getting back up after being knocked down, they know that their friends are right behind them wherever they go, the burn in your lungs after chasing something you'll never be able to catch, always does their own thing.
Yavanna  —  warm days, soft smiles, making sure everyone is happy, walking barefoot, falling asleep in the sun, wishes everyone would be kinder, mugs of too-sweet tea, the person who screams don't kill the spider, adores animals, covered in freckles, one can never quite tell exactly what their eye colour is, pointing to the stars as they peek out from behind the clouds, large yawns early in the morning, a question left unanswered, honey, one hand catching another, tea that is swallowed for its warmth and not the taste, faded patterns on well-loved t-shirts, dew beading on flower petals, the imprints tight socks leave behind, wanderlust's yearning pull.
Orome  —  long hair, loves nature and animals, mist, sharp features, dirt under their fingernails, very down to earth, always willing to help, the strong friend, always has new, interesting facts to tell, tough as all hell, doesn't love easily but always loves deeply, walking barefoot everywhere, wildflowers threaded into messy braids, laying in the afternoon sun, big adventures, crisp air, deeply opinionated, climbing the tallest trees around, muddy feet, toothy smiles, accepting of everyone, follows their own path, stargazing off mountain cliffs, running through tall grass, folklore stories of fairies and dragons, a child at heart.
Nienna  —  honeyed and sulky dark summers, pomegranates, thunderstorms, magnolias, unkept promises, cinematic and shadowy, existing in a trance of melancholy, feels passionately though feigns detachment, slightly off-putting, their presence is announced but even if it wasn't you'd still know they were there, constantly underestimated, desperately afraid of silence, red-rimmed eyes, always appears serene, broken handwriting, short hair, foxes, dead leaves, large coats and scarves, numb fingers, old stone walls, steaming black tea, tears, gazing at a past lover down the hall, the smell before rain, old songs, nostalgia.
Námo  —  set features, eyes the color of dead souls, candles melting wax atop a piano, tragic smiles, an inexplicable sense of sharpness, hot tears, decaying cores, irreversible tornadoes, infectious whispers, heart is always pounding, doesn't like to be seen, nightmares, dark circles under their eyes that they can't hide, doesn't know their limits, slightly self-destructive, the silent one, bitter coffee, quiet observation, black eyeshadow, knows a bit of everything, no-nonsense, cold fingers and colder gazes, being misunderstood, sitting alone in a hard wood chair late at night, dead roses, losing a loved one too soon, moss covering broken gravestones, shattered glass, the taste of melancholy. 
Irmo  —  glows when they talk, dewy eyes, radiates with a blessing from the sun, gentle hands, dandelions, white clouds, the shy warmth of the first days of spring, afternoon naps, soft pillows, carefree laughter, fields of reeds, basking in the moonlight, flower crowns, sunbathing in creeks, gloriously alive, hours among the leaves, kind soul, often lost in their own thoughts, nights spent watching the river, dancing in a circle, holding hands, soft clothes, sun kissed skin, always listening to music, either works too hard or not at all, warm smiles, dancing in the rain, catching fireflies, wanting to do everything and nothing all at once, innocent hope, paper stars in glass jars, bittersweet goodbyes, looking for beauty in everything, water-coloured skies. 
Estë  —  dried orange garlands, snow on green tiled roofs, a bit in love, quills dipped in metallic ink, daydreaming, angelic singing, very fond of cuddling, homemade bread, constantly buying gifts for people, talkative, will hold your hand whenever and wherever, friends with almost everyone, convinced that sleeping at 10pm is late, strawberry ice cream, calming eyes, telling old stories, rosy cheeks, wanting the best for everyone, sunrises, loves nature, passionate about dreams, self-made flower crowns, will stay up late to comfort you, unexpected hugs from the back, not afraid to tell people they love them, humble.
Vairë  —  silver knitting needles, velvet skies filled with twinkling stars, red embroidery thread, hot black tea with spoonfuls of sugar, ballet shoes, hearts carved in birch bark, denim jackets, distant bells, foxgloves, rain moving over hills, cheek caresses, a bedroom left alone, walking in the mud and rain at dusk, resisting change, dead ends, unspoken feelings, finally coming home, looking up at the stars in hope of something more, simultaneously brimming with hope and lifeless, wiling the hours away, staring at the ceiling, wanting to write but not knowing the words, hiding from the world, afraid of the future, a sense of dread.
Vána  —  soft features, the smell of lavender, long walks in the sunshine, singing in a choir, sincere laughter, pastel colours, reading poetry aloud, baking cookies and sharing it with friends, kind gestures, painting on random objects, flower print clothes, lacy socks, handwritten love letters, forgiving people, graceful movements, writing poetry, roses, standing up for those who can't defend themselves, walks through nature, positivity, white lace, long hair, very graceful, always there for you, nostalgia of a time that you never knew, undeniably beautiful, the sweet breeze of a spring morning, slowing drifting off while laying on a green meadow, calm and collected, the best friend you could ask for.
Tulkas  —  loud laughter, hammocks, doesn't know when to stop, can't sleep, jacket with so many fixed holes it has been reduced to patchwork, flashing smiles, living on the edge, free spirit that will rip you to shreds if you dare to try and tame it, bloody knuckles, the moments of silence after a loud screaming match, riding into the sunset, dogs barking in the distance, the smell of fire on the air, running from person to person, unbridled chaos, aimless wandering, on the verge of greatness, call of the void, empty avenues, walking between worlds, wanting to hold the planets, melancholy nights, seeing things that aren't really there, wishing for more, overgrown unkempt gardens, bright colours against dark greens, tripping up on vines and logs, scraped knees.
Nessa  —  can go from laughing to serious fast if necessary, little bits of dark humour, staying up late, they do the little eyebrow thing when they get insulted, doodles, everybody else thinks they have friends but they don’t, red lipstick, lively, can be implosive, forgotten, mood swings like crazy, but very calm when they are happy, regrets decisions they made in the past, affectionately called a little brat, out until late in the afternoon of the next day, does not let anyone kill their vibe, seeing their escape in a person, the echo of your own steps on a tile floor, the sensation of being the only one left, a way that seems to have no end.
Eönwë  —  intimidating, has a soft side but only a few people see it, loves the forest, natural beauty, combat boots, deep thinker, false formality, a chord of music that breaks the silence, clouds rolling in, doesn't get angry but instead just fucking glares at you until you crumble, loves thunderstorms, mind like caverns, hands like stone, to hold or to hurt, heavy irises, earthquake tempers, unrequited love, soft voice, they know you whether you know them or not, lingering touches, people watching, the smell of old books and rain, faint music in the distance, won't let others break their friend's hearts, clearing their throat as a type of warning, moral righteousness, faith in humanity, towering buildings.
Mairon  —  sarcastic comments with a smile, glares that could kill, speaking in such a pretentious way that no one even understands you, obsession over studies, being a good person but getting corrupted, setting fire to the city, eyes like flames, heeled boots, soft aching hands buried in messy hair, ancient ruins, cups of tea gone cold, flawless eyeliner, impulsive decisions, false pretences, sickly sweet smiles, daunting realisations, masquerade masks, too stubborn to admit their regrets, waking up from a nightmare, hands cold to the bone, chest pains, the sharp cold of winter, rotting apples, dark circles under the eyes from not sleeping for days, hands stripped from over-washing.
So! Still trying to work out my masterlist and first few posts I have pre-written. In the meantime, please enjoy this messy aesthetic thingy.
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saintsilmarillion · 3 days
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Our Antlers Tangled Interlude 1
Feathers & Fire for @feast-of-horns
Mairon stumbles across Eönwë
Follow the full fic on AO3
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Mairon runs. He runs until he is clear of the chaotic boulders and some semblance of order returns to the forest around him. He keeps running still, as if with enough speed he might leave his thoughts behind. That he might outrun what has occurred. What he himself chose to bring about.
He is so focused on inattention that he almost collides with the other maia suddenly in his path. He stops just in time and falls back against a rockery, dislodging small succulents from their placement as he scrambles to regain his feet.
‘You will not find much prey so far from Oromë’s halls.’
Eönwë stands before him, offering an unneeded hand. He withdraws it at Mairon’s look and returns to his seat on the low curving branch of a silver sycamore. His plumage is deep, dark brown - a far cry from his usual bright feathers.
‘Cheat.’ Mairon says, gesturing at them.
‘I did not have the advantage of flying.’ Eönwë smiles ruefully. He tilts his face up, searching the gilded skies.
Mairon stands, brushing himself down and trying to appear less disheveled than he feels. He looks at Eönwë properly; the defeated slump of his shoulders, the restlessness and longing that clings to his spirit.
Eönwë is turning a crystal in his hands, something shimmering between red, purple and blue, and quickly disappearing into his belt pouch when he notices Mairon’s eyes on it.
Mairon climbs up next to him and lays himself back against the crook of the white branches' curve, nudging Eönwë’s thigh with a toe.
‘Who do you await, this far from the others?’
Eönwë sighs, his gaze turning inward to memories.
‘Someone who I no longer think I can call friend.’
One who turned traitor for Melkor then. Mairon tries not to understand what could attract a maia to the fallen vala. He fails.
Mairon does not want to think about what just happened. He wants it gone from his mind, from his fána, from his ëala, everywhere where it still lingers.
He sits forward, smiling playfully.
‘Their loss is my gain,’ Mairon says, taking Eönwë’s collar in his fist and drawing the maia from morbid thoughts. ‘I claim your catch.’
‘What do you ask of me?’ Eönwë’s breath flutters against Mairon’s mouth, filled with the airy promise of rain and light.
‘A kiss.’ Mairon replies, brushing close enough that they almost do.
‘Only a kiss?’
‘I only demand a kiss, if you wish to offer more after you may do so.’
Eönwë smiles softly and leans in to grant him a sweet kiss. He is gentle but confident. A comfort between friends. So different from the last lips that touched his.
Mairon pours himself into the other maia, seeking Eönwë’s arms with his fingertips. They are sculpted with hard muscle from his constant training, still retaining his lithe, flight-ready delicacy.
Eönwë groans, his own hands finding Mairon’s thighs with assured passion.
Mairon grips at his wings, hard enough to tear feathers loose. There is nothing for Mairon to ground himself with here.
The taste of chaos still lingers in his mouth.
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edensrose · 1 year
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ㅤㅤㅤ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 ❜࿔ 
( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ ainur⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔
· ⊰ synopsis. what happens when the ainur catch you indulging yourself? ( minors dni ៸៸ sexual content ៸៸ explicit descriptions ៸៸ dirty talk ៸៸ fingering ៸៸ cunnilingus ៸៸ penetrative sex ៸៸ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ៸៸ overstimulation ៸៸ edging ៸៸ use of aphrodisiacs ៸៸ nicknames ៸៸ orgasm denial )
· ⊰ note. oh this has been awhile in the making, enjoy<3
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.°୭̥ ✿ˎˊ˗ the admirers. 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 
𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆 , 𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒐 , eönwë, 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏
ㅤㅤㅤ���ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆.
he's absolutely taken aback by you. the way your head hangs, the way your back arches so that your breast jutt out and give him the perfect view of your body overall. how you play with your little clit and breathe out for him. the second he hears his name he's inching closer and revealing himself to you. shushing your embarrassment and pleading that you let him help — let him touch you, adore you, worship you. how could you refuse?
"You're so beautiful, my little dove." He croons, bringing a thumb to replace your trembling fingers. He flicks the pad over your clit, rubbing in motions he knows damn well will have you whimpering for him. 
"And to think you were doing all this by yourself? Why not ask me to take care of you?"  Manwë dips his head to press kisses along your jawline as he fondles your needy pearl. He chuckles at your meek bucks into his hand. "Aren't you a darling little thing?" That is all it takes before he's joining you upon the bed. Face buried between your legs. Eating you out as though you were the finest of delicacies to his divine lips. Having you cum on his tongue until you are squirming from overstimulation. “Can you give me another?” He groans, burying his face deeper and moaning against your sweetness as he grinds his own hips against the sheets. “One more princess. One more for me.’’
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒐.
he could practically feel your desire before he even entered the room — but oh, nothing prepared him for the sight of you. your desperate little rutting into your pillow, the quiet, breathy moans. he could sense it all: your need, your heat, and most of all. . . how it was him that you desired. he couldn't help but find himself over you, pressing kisses to your neck to let you know it was just him before whispering to your ear all the things he was going to do to you. 
"Such need, my petal. You are practically dripping." Irmo's lips feel hot on your skin as his fingers trace small patterns. Seeking to worship your body. He begins with your chest, his tongue circling your nipples. He'd chuckle at your little whines and begs for more — but he wouldn't let up. Not until your desire was pouring from you. 
"You want me to touch you? Hmm?" His croon is soft as his kisses trail down, pressing against your quivering thighs. Two delicate fingers swipe up along your slit, and he smiles at your eagerness. "That's it, my pretty petal." His tongue nestles against your clit and he groans at your taste as he pushes both fingers into your quivering walls. "Give in to all those filthy desires. . . And all for me." 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒘𝒆.
admittedly he was quite surprised when he came home after a long day of work to find you sprawled out and playing with your needy clit. after he got over the small guilt of leaving you waiting, arousal brimmed within him and he couldn't help but watch your little show. something cruel within him loved the way you whined and struggled to find your release. knowing good and well that just a few of his touches would send you off the edge. you needed him. which is why he made himself known — by replacing your hand with his. 
"I suppose my dawn grew too desperate, hmm?" Eönwë smiles at the way you gasp his name and wastes no time in rubbing his calloused fingers along your trembling slit. He joins you on the bed, kneeling beside your bare form and gazing upon you with the eyes of a hawk. Hungry, lustful, as he leans over you to bring your faces closer. 
"Oh sweetheart, you know that only I —" he bites back a groan as he pushes a finger into your heat and feels your wetness. " — can fuck this needy little cunt just right," his whisper fans against your lips and rewards you with both a carnal, fevered kiss and another finger that curls right into your sweet spot. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏.
nothing is better than coming home after a long shift of steering the moon, only to find you all desperate and riding his pillow with meek little moans and hushed gasps. he knew good and well how needy you could get with his shifts, and it sparks excitement within him like no other. he watches you, knowing that he is the reason for your state, before eagerly taking your thighs into his large hands and giving them a squeeze as he grinds his clothed crotch against your ass. whispering to your ear about how he's back to ruin this needy little hole. 
"Fuck, you're amazing," breath fanning your heated ear, Tilion muffles your mewl but shoving your face into the softness of the pillow that you once chased your release upon. It is rendered a mere object for you to cling to as your lover ruins you as promised. Back flushed to yours, lips worshipping your skin and of course — his pounding cock that splits you in two and has your body thumping against the bed with each of his overly eager thrusts. 
"Mm, that feel good, dear?" He pants as the arm loops around your waist brings his hand between your legs to abuse your clit. " — fuck," he groans against your ear, his deer ears twitching as he buries his head into the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. "Gonna. . . nhh, fuck this needy little hole until my next shift, eh? Gonna leave you dripping with me." 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
.°୭̥ ✿ˎˊ˗ the sadists. 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒚 𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒎 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎
𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓, oromë, 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐.
oh, he is so mean. he doesn't even seem the least bit surprised when he finds you in such a state. chasing after your high aimlessly as you buck and grind into the pillow below you. whining his name, pleading the fantasy-him for some kind of relief. it certainly was a daydream, he notes. for if it were the real him — he would have had his fun with you in this state first and foremost. 
Your little complaint is greeted by a brief spank to your thigh, causing you to whimper and limp further into the doomsman — your little ruts faltering in the slightest. "Now, where's all that enthusiasm? You'd rather a pillow over me?" Námo clicks his tongue, grabbing your chin so that you face him whilst you meekly grind into his lap. 
"You can do better than that, little one." He notes, eyeing how your fluttering slit soaks the material his robes — perfectly pressing against his tent. "What's that?" His voice lowers, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as he chuckles and grabs your hips, digging his nails into the softness of his flesh. "You wish to cum? Grind faster then."
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓.
the dark lord has a particular rule that he would rather you follow. only he is allowed to touch you. but he knows well that you engaging in this sort of pleasure is merely a ploy of getting him to prove who your body belongs to. to fuck you into a state of devastating bliss. so you know what? that's not what he'll give you. oh no, all you will be left with is regret the second his voice found your ear and you registered the tight grip on your hair. 
"What's that?" Is all your whines are met with as you curl your fingers further into dark robes. Burying your face into his chest and inhaling his scent. Every stutter of your hips is greeted by a harsh smack to your thigh, causing you to limp further into him as he leans against the iron throne. You sit in his lap, full of his cock, yet no friction at all. And unable to take it for yourself either.
"Aww," Melkor croons, stroking a tear away from your cheek as you cry out to him in need. "What's that? My needy little slut wants to cum?" Icy lips ghosting yours, he breathes a chuckle before leaning back and placing his arms on the throne's rests. "Too bad. You're gonna sit there full of my cock until I say so. And not a second sooner."
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆.
you were doing this to spite him, he knew. he had denied you in favour of his hunting trip, so of course you would sprawl yourself out on his bed, on full display should he walk through the door whilst you finger yourself. mess his sheets. oh, he won't let you get away with it. he'll take his time, bring you to the edge only to leave you whining and clinging to his hair as he devours you like a starved animal. 
The ceiling became a mixture of blurs and hazes as your eyes threaten to loop back into your head. Lewd noises from below are exaggerated, stirring your arousal even further. Your head limps, you gasp, pant, squirm — all whilst tugging on white hair and begging for the high that you tittered the edge of. His tongue alternates with his fingers between your clit and slit. Your legs are tossed over his shoulders as he brings stars into your very vision. 
"Close, little deer?" He groans against your cunt, his slitted pupils glancing at you through his white lashes as his nails dig into your thighs. You nod, beg, clinging further onto his messy tresses in hopes that he'll give you what you want. But your teary eyes are met with a smirk as he pulls away at the last minute, spanking your thigh as you whine out your disappointment. "Did you think I'd just give you everything, little deer? Bad little sluts don't get to cum." Before returning once more.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏.
he'll just use it as an excuse to punish you. anything to have his way with you and get you squirming for him. calling his name as you desperately try to coax him into letting you cum. begging him to use you as he pleases if it means getting what you want. especially after he's left you tied up with one of his newest aphrodisiacs wrecking your body. 
"Can't hear you, precious." Dark nails curl your hair into a fistful as his hips continue their onslaught. Refusing to let up even as you squirm on his lap or limp into him and plead for his mercy. Plead for a break from the endless orgasms he's pushed you through. 
"Tired already? Wasn't it you that begged me to let you cum?" Mairon grasps your jaw in his hand and twists your head so that you are forced to look up at him — all whilst ramming into that devastating spot again and again. "Oh no, precious. We had a deal. I get to use this body until you can't take anymore." He leans into your ear with a cruel smirk tugging to his lips. "Now shut that pretty little mouth of yours and cum for me again."
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would you write a headcanon of how valar and maiar fall for darling and start to be obsessed with them? (did I do it right?? I'm so nervous lol)
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❪ ♡ ❫ ── 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰, 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 - 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 . . .
  ♡. 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕
they remember it so vividly. the day that you walked into their life. passing by them in all your perfectness. your beauty, your demeanour, the small little smile that you gave them once you caught their unintentional stare. many would call it just a chance encounter. the gardens, a banquet, a mere passing interaction - but oh, you will scorn their mind for all eternity. did you feel it too? the connection that they felt? the song of your fëa, surely it was singing for them? it will drive them mad and they will be eager to meet you again. when you recognise them, their heart would sore. so you did feel the same? oh, if only you knew what you had gotten yourself into. they'll make it their life's mission to learn every little thing about you. stalking, you say? no, they're just lovingly learning more about their soulmate. now they are convinced that you are meant to be theirs. and it certainly would be unfortunate if you didn't think so too
𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆, 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒌𝒂𝒔, ulmo, vana, 𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒂, yavanna, 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏, aiwendil, 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒆, luilire
♡. 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔
you were most likely one of the few people outside of their family to show them true kindness. it felt like they were on air. that day that you aided them with something, or defended their name from others. they remember how fast their heart beat, how their song shifted to a thousand symphonies as they gazed at you with wonder. to think. . . that someone actually cared. from that day they grew hungry for your affection and favour. eager to seek you out and hope that you would continue to show them the kindness and attention that they were greedy for. you made them feel so. . . complete. they've never loved someone so wholeheartedly, so completely, until the day your touch grazed their hand and you smiled at them so warmly. they hope that you feel the same and will do just about anything to gain your attention, even if it's subtly. and should you place your attention elsewhere? you'll regret it.
𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓, aule, nessa, 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏, curumo, gothmog, osse, 𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏, almion, 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒆 
♡. 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆
they have known you for the longest time. it feels like they've loved you for even longer. they are one of your closest companions, the person that you turn to when in need of aid. the one that you cry on when you're sad. the one that has been with you through every good and each bad. they boast in such a fact - that they know you so intimately and that they are the person that you rely on. . . but there is a deeper sense of longing within them, a yearning for something more. they feel possessive over you. after all, aren't they your everything like you are to them? why can't you see that the two of you are meant to be together? every time you bring up someone else they feel a bit of their sanity chipping away. they'll make you see how much you need them. how much they love you. after all, if you didn't feel the same, why did you lead them on? you have to take responsibility. they'll make sure of it, make sure that you know who you belong to.
𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒐, orome, 𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒂, este, 𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒘𝒆, ilmare, arien, melian, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒆, 𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆, erulisse, 𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒆
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Since we established Mairon and Eönwë being besties, I now very much want to be sandwiched between them, because there is no way that they didn't share women in their "youth".
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another pair that you would most likely get whiplash from if between them. while both can be rather strict in the bedroom, mairon is far less fair than eönwë is. he takes every opportunity that he can to make your life harder, edging you and bring you to tears. he loves how you splutter out his name, cling to him too.
and then there is eönwë, whose words are gentle, soft, contrasting mairon's degradation with praise. but do not be fooled, while he appears more merciful to you, his movements are far from it. where mairon edges you, eönwë overstimulates you. he is not opposed to touching you in the gentlest manner, only to quite literally fuck your lights out along with mairon.
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cilil · 9 months
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In a way the whole Númenor arc was an extended argument between Eönwë and Mairon - which becomes even spicier if you hc that they used to date
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wormedeye · 4 months
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i will just dump everything i have with eönwë because i’m the normallest about him (feat one single griffith)
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eggxeggxegg · 1 year
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Eonwe had proposed to Mairon many times while they were in Almaren, with Mairon coyly delaying the engagement each time. Mairon had no ill feelings towards Eonwe, but their explanation was that they weren’t ready to be his wife. Mairon is gender fluid, and marrying Eonwe would have cemented their title as officially a lady, to which they didn’t yet wish to commit.
Melkor never made such formal advances. He and Mairon had become close friends in secret, and Melkor didn’t want to lose what they had by asking for more. Melkor was terrified of rejection, and didn’t wish to get his hopes up in the first place. It was Mairon who asked Melkor to be his lieutenant, so as to to have the title of lord.
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urwendii · 6 months
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🔥Fuel to Fire - Mairon x Arien x Eönwë
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rating: nsfw 🔞
wordcount: 2.3k
summary:
Arien was too impulsive after all to put restraints on her desires. She wanted Mairon and he was willing to offer. Eönwë wanted her, and she was willing to share. It did not even factor in the equation to ponder if one of them would not.  What she had not expected was the eagerness that curled like a small shameful thing behind Eönwë’s eyes when Mairon approached them. Oh. Well it suited her perfectly.
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doodle-pops · 2 months
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The Ainur | With A Short Reader
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Request: Can I make a request for headcanons for how the Ainur would be with a short human reader? Around 5 foot tall? Like an elf of about 6 feet would only reach up to some of their chest or lower still, considering they’re like 7-9 foot tall. Would they be cute, teasing, protective, frustrated by the height difference? P.s. I love the way you characterise all the Ainur, it really feels like their personality, you do a fantastic job. - anon
A/N: Happy to fulfil this request and learn that you enjoy my characterisations of them anon. I tend to envision the Ainur as nothing less than nine feet since they are deities and display their power through their heights. So you’re going to appear super short next to them. Nonetheless, Enjoy!
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Manwë
The bird was too stunned to speak. Are you a child or dwarf, certainly that could not be your final height at the end of your growth? Unfortunately, it is your complete height which makes you appear as a little bird before the great King. Now his nickname ‘little bird’ makes more sense.
He cannot fathom how you can be the same size as a bean and packed with all that sass whenever he mentions how tiny you are. You require a ladder if you ever reach his head for a ‘level-headed’ talk.
Has no issue picking you up with one hand and carrying you around like his personal comfort toy when he’s having a bad day. Anyone commenting or teasing gets a look that speaks about them receiving a bolt of lightning.
Let us not forget his avian side which is going to fawn over how adorable you are. You’re tiny and squishy, perfect for belonging in his nest where he can shower you in affection all day long.
The size difference is outstanding. Just picture a baby lying in their parents' bed, looking like a little nugget among the pillows…that’s what you appear like anytime you snuggle in his bed. On numerous occasions, he didn’t see you and almost squished you under the sheets.
With your size, it means wearing his robes and marching around his room or Ilmarin pretending to be him while he silently watches from afar. You are drowning in his robes, don’t even wear his shirt, it’s a gown on you.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Irmo
Your size doesn’t change the way he’s going to shower you with ultimate love and affection. Apart from the minor teasing he’ll conduct for the fun of the situation, Irmo loves you the same way if you are tall.
A gentleman who enjoys using the opportunities when granted to lift you over puddles or streams so he can fawn over how you fit in his arms. He (and the others) can lift you with his pinkie and has done it before.
You are authorised to always sleep on his chest—you look like a kitten sleeping on his chest in his eyes—mainly because you like to roll and so does he and nothing good has arisen from you both rolling together.
Gets lost in crowds and he panics. He’ll be walking around asking if anyone has seen his little lover and he will give descriptions. “They’re about 5 feet, this short and very tiny. They look like an elfling…”
Saw children’s clothing on a walk with you in a boutique, did not know they were for children and excitedly stated, “Oh look! I believe these would look lovely on you! They even have your colours.”
Do not be upset with him, he didn’t know that it was children’s clothing. Irmo only wished to share the moment of shopping with you. But worry not, he gathers the best seamstresses and tailors to fashion you the finest wear that looks nothing like children’s clothes.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Námo
Has a smile on his face anytime you take the lead and walk in front of him, hence his reason for always telling you to lead the way. He’s a simple Vala, he wants to watch as you waddle like a duck with your short legs as you take him to Eru knows where.
Pretends to complain when you ‘borrow’ his robes because you missed him, but gushes mentally at the sight of how you’re drowning in his forever monochromatic black robes.
His viridian eyes were soft at the sight of you walking around, dragging his robes all over. The idea of complaining about getting them dirty has disappeared, and all he is thinking about is how you look like a penguin.
Your feet running across his halls are the equivalent of tiny pitter-patter and it’s how he can easily distinguish your presence; just listen for the tiny footsteps. But it never works out well when you’re among elves and lost in a crowd.
The first time you met his brother, Irmo mistook you for a child Námo adopted and congratulated his brother on softening up to the idea of children. To make matters worse, you played along—much to Námo’s annoyance—and clung to his arm, calling him ‘atar/daddy’.
Irmo was elated, you were dying of laughter and Námo was contemplating his life. He couldn’t believe this was the humour he signed up for the moment he fell in love with someone shorter than most individuals.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Ulmo
Mistook you for the child wandering the shores the first time he saw you in the distance and scolded you for playing in the deep waters without parental supervision. That was until he learned you weren’t a child and your permanent height for a lifetime.
‘Pebble’ was the most suitable nickname he gifted you since pebbles were small and cute…like you. Plus, he brings you pebbles, seashells and pearls from the ocean floor as a token of affection.
Because you’re smaller, your strokes as you swim alongside him are slower, so he’ll call the seals, dolphins or whales to swim alongside you for assistance. You’re even allowed to ride them anytime you two are swimming out in the depths.
Since Ulmo’s true form is staggering, he opts to appear around the same height as you are anytime he has to walk the earth. His favourite place to have walks would be the beach obviously.
Hand holding while watching the sunset and he’s quietly staring at your short fingers holding his larger hand. He loves holding your hand to fawn over the size. He would even slip on a cute ring with a pearl one day.
Because Ulmo is known for having no resting place as he wanders the waters of the world, he enjoys visiting your home. It’s even better if you live near a lake for him to have easier access to seeing you frequently. Cue Ulmo marvels at how small your household items are as he picks them up.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Oromë
Congratulations, you are the perfect size to sit on all of his creatures (and him) to ride through the forest with him. He cannot get over your tiny figure because he knows that you’re about the same size as an elfling and all his creatures are larger than you.
Roughhousing is a thing that occurs between you both and he gets caught up in the experience to forget how easily he can send you on a trip to Estë for healing…because it has happened multiple times.
Picks you up like a sack of potatoes and slings you over his shoulder when he has to carry you somewhere and you’re being troublesome, or he wants to randomly surprise you. You’re as light as a feather as he runs with you through the forest.
Swinging from his muscular arms anytime he flexes his muscles for you? Yes, yes you do, and he loves it. Fuels his ego to know that he’s strong and his lover can climb him like a tree. Clinging to his muscular physique and probably biting him? Yes, you do that he calls you a tiny beast who needs to be tamed.
Not the type to underestimate the size of a creature you can ride because of your size but is also cautious at the same time. Wanted to gift you a Shetland pony because you were small enough to ride one, but back out last minute knowing that he would receive an earful. Gave you a giant-sized tiger or dog as a companion.
You wear his pelts and pretend to act like him, attempting to wield his bow—sweetheart, you couldn’t even draw the strings—as though you were hunting.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tulkas
No different from Oromë and will playfight with you using the strength in his pinkie finger and you’d still have to bandage some body parts because accidents happen all the time. No worries though, he praises your injuries and makes you feel as though you fought a great battle with him.
He has no doubts, dismisses your strengths and associates them with your size having seen many great warriors display outstanding strengths and feats despite their size. Instead, he encourages you to take pride in your size and all the greatness you can accomplish.
You got a workout buddy, or rather he got a new dumbbell to lift or someone to sit on his back for push-ups. Your weight is inconsequential, but it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the fun in the moment.
Also picks you up like a sack of potatoes and carries you around the place, introducing you to all his close friends and elves. Anytime you need to speak ‘eye-level’ with him, instead of going to lengths to climb tables or a tree, he’ll kneel to your level.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Melkor
Getting called dwarf, child, or both the first time you meet will result in him changing the names and calling you a critter if you attempt to attack him for calling you short. Probably ‘ankle biter’ might be your new name because he denoted that small things have the most rage.
You’re a ferocious ankle-biter in his eyes whose nerves he enjoys getting on because your responses are hilarious. It’s all in jest…or maybe not.
Nothing of his will ever fit you, that also means trying to wear his crown with the Silmarils. It’s currently sitting on your neck as we speak. All you can do is make versions of his outfits tailored to your size.
You’re smaller, so his hands can cover your entire face. Know what that means? Squish your cheeks as you speak to admire how soft and dough-like they are. “Hm, ankle biter, you have remarkably soft cheeks,” he says while squishing your face.
There’s nothing you can climb on to meet his height because he makes sure that there isn’t anything around. He wants you to break your neck looking up at him (bite his ankles and he’ll reach your height).
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Eönwë
“You’re like a hummingbird minus the speed,” he chuckled upon the first sight of your tiny figure. You were lucky he didn’t consider you a lost child who wandered before him in search of help because he was ready to call you ‘child’.
I have to say, Eӧnwё is the best person to try the same ‘daddy’ prank on when you’re walking through the streets of Valimar but clinging to him and acting like a child for the elves to fawn over how adorable the interaction is. There is always an elf who inquires for you to look them in the eye and say, “This is my atya!”
His avian side adores your tininess; and makes you all the more delicate and squishable. You are never again going to leave the nest…just joking, but his protective side goes up a notch because you are TINY.
I mean, he loses you in a crowd easily and you can’t even jump high enough to show your location. You can climb a table or chair but still have to get past the sea of heads before Eӧnwё spots you.
Gets you the smaller version of everything so you don’t have to struggle with holding the larger objects. He once watched as you climbed a chair as if it were a mountain or fought with a glass of wine because the glass was too big to hold.
At least going on flights doesn’t change whether you’re extra small or bigger. Visits in the morning and takes you to watch the sunrise over the mountain from a bird’s eye view.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tilion
Doesn’t matter if you’re tiny or tall, you still look the same from his view in the sky as he guides the moon. But he does melt at the sight of you looking up at the moon.
You are forever his ‘little deer’ even though you’re probably feisty and love to bite or nibble on his arms all the time. Similar to Oromë, carries you around like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder, but more for the fun of watching your short legs dangle.
Doesn’t alter the size of any furniture so he can observe your legs dangling over the edges and sway, or the size difference between you and the table designed for a nine-foot entity.
Roughhousing is a constant must-have between you both because he adores pinning your smaller body under his and making you fight back. Tilion just wants to watch you struggle and wiggle like a worm. Bite him.
Puts you to sleep on top of him because it is the safest option unless you want to be crushed under a giant nine-foot Maia, and you look like a tiny kitten curled up on his chest. The only thing he hasn’t done is pick you up by your scruff.
He’s such a tease when it comes to you both riding through the forest. Tilion will purposefully place you behind him so you can’t see a thing and then tease you about being too small. But it’s all in jest because he’ll have you ride an elk or reindeer or even a pony that was handpicked to match your size.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Mairon
He also assumed you’re an ankle biter as well because he called you short and you were ready to attack. Please, do not release him from your tyranny because he will make fun of your height and pat your head or rest his arm atop your head when he’s resting. Again, bite him.
Complains about your short legs and how slow you are when you’re walking side-by-side but comes to you later to ask for assistance because some tool of his fell into a small hole and you’re tiny enough to get it.
Tells you that he’ll feed you to his wolves if you don’t stop clinging to him when in truth, he loves it. You’re small enough to not be a distraction as he moves about his forge or the fortress, but it’s just Mairon being a tsundere.
Doesn’t see you lying in his bed because his bed is huge and you’re extra small, so he almost lies atop your body. It’s turned into a staring match like how children stare you down without blinking.
Has a tendency to carry you around, for funsies, by holding onto your belt or grabbing the back of your clothes so you dangle as he powers through the corridors until he arrives at his Lord holding you like a briefcase.
Deep down, as much as he teases your size, he enjoys the differences. Watching you fight to lift an object made for his size or dress in his clothes—if you’re brave enough to try this—is entertaining.
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Masterlist
Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster
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gerardspuppy · 1 year
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♡☮♦ any/all of those you feel like for Mairon/Sauron 🤗
- olorinestel
Hell yeah!
♡- romantic hc
so I have to admit, I do hc Mairon as being very close to aro. I think he had three romantic-ish relationships in his life, and they were with Eonwe, Melkor, and Tyelpe. For Eonwe it was very onesided- basically Mairon thought they were close friends but was really hiding a lot from him, meanwhile Eonwe really liked him. With Melkor depending on what mood I'm in it's either more like devotion than romance, or it really is the one genuine relationship he had as a kind of exception (which would explain why he was so immediantly loyal, imo). I like angsty brutal angbang but I also like when they're sweet. Then for Tyelpe it was like very close friendship/borderline romance. It probably made Mairon feel guilty as hell since he'd only ever felt like this about Melkor, and he kind of panicked and did things he later regretted. He's not a big fan of romance unless it involves some kind of eternal devotion overtones, I'm afraid.
☮ - friendship hc
In Valinor, I think his only friends were Eonwe, and to a lesser degree, Olorin. He put up with them but preferred to be alone and was generally quiet and withdrawn. In Angband, he was close with Gothmog and Thuringwethil, but there was kind of the border of professionalism there, as well as Mairon's general refusal to talk about his personal life, and there wasn't usually much time to have fun bc of the war. Maybe in the earlier days. They probably had the most fun when they got drunk with each other. After Melkor was defeated he had no real friends until he died :)
There are two AUs I have though, one where Tar-Miriel becomes a Nazgul and sort of befriends him through their shared Numenor trauma, and one where Frodo can communicate with him through the Ring/in dreams, which kind of counts I guess? He's mostly just lonely though. ♦ - quirks/hobbies
Ok here's a list of random stuff:
his favorite thing to do is solve maths/science problems with melkor. they're total opposites and their ideas bounce rlly well off of eachother
his hair is naturally curly but he straightens it, and he has freckles but he hides them with makeup. why doesn't he just change his fana, you ask? melkor says he prefers it like this
theres always blue eyeshadow under his eyes
he love love loves strawberry jam
bdsm is pretty much his only coping mechanism. he has issues.
when he's around close friends he's super quiet. doesn't like to talk much. he's actually a kind of shy person but whenever he's playing the part of Sauron/Gorthaur (or later annatar) no one can tell
he likes to dance but thinks it's unprofessional. will only do so if ordered to (so he can claim he was just following orders)
(tw body horror) his favorite flower is the rose because he used to hide in a rosebush in yavanna's gardens where no one would dare go. yavanna later makes roses grow out of his flesh during lotr as punishment
he invented clocks!
he's always busy with The War which leaves very little time for hobbies. he has a list of things he wishes he had the time to do, hidden in his room cause he feels guilty that he's betraying melkor's cause. by the time melkor is defeated its an entire notebook long, and he burns it, vowing to never long for anything other than his master's will again
he gets very giggly when stressed or angry (which is kind of canon?)
he has cried exactly three times in his life. hated himself for showing such weakness all three times.
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ruiniel · 9 months
Text
“The pardon… is not mine to give,” he finally breaks the pre-dawn silence with the words Mairon knew would doom him, voice hoarse against his ear and skin gliding softly along his own ember bareness. 
He says nothing, his elation at this last success, however meager, drowning all else. Instead, he runs his fine-boned finger along a bicep, glimmering gold on silver. Strands of fiery hair sleek around his enemy’s neck, over the claw marks; in their madness, they held nothing back. 
His enemy. His enemy. All he has left, after...
Manwë’s herald lifts his chin, a curl of lip betraying unease—or perhaps, regret. It's been an Age and more.
Mairon looks away. He idly observes the muscled leg slung over a naked hip, focusing on the scarred body: winding, crooked paths, a map of strife engraved in flesh. Secrets revealed. He finds himself recalling the wounds he’d dealt over the years, wondering about the ones he hadn’t. “I’ve not asked it of you.”
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