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doodle-pops · 3 months

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The Ainur | With A Short Reader

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Manwë

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

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

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Irmo

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

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

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Námo

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

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

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Ulmo

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

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

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Oromë

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

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

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tulkas

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Melkor

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

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Eönwë

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

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

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tilion

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

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

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

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

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

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

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Mairon

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

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

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

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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year

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So, if you would prefer not to provide Sweeter Than...grrr...Perhaps headcannons for Melkor, Mairon, Thranduil, Legolas with a S/O modern day writing about them....

☾ ⋆ﾟ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: a chapter of Sweeter Than Poetry and headcanons request back-to-back for the writer of my fav fic ♡ Also this is sort of an AU I guess?? With the modern reader being isekai'ed into Middle Earth?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Thranduil, Legolas, Melkor | Morgoth, Mairon | Sauron

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: suggestive headcanons (3rd for each character)

｡･:*˚:✧｡thranduil

♡ he won't let you know it but when he first finds your writing about him, he's flattered. Is this how you see him? You describe him like an ethereal being and a part of him thinks it's deserved. He's beyond happy with how you capture him as a character.

♡ it's touching to read about you falling in love with each other over and over again and it really gets to his heart and he truly does find himself falling in love with you all over again.

♡ he finds himself moved by how you've created so many heart-wrenching stories with him as the reader's love interest and how many other people have read your work and enjoyed it too! (Please come humble him a little tho bc it's really feeding his ego sobs). Oh but if you write those fics about the reader still loving him when they can see his scars? He'll love you for eternity, it might even bring tears to his eyes to know that he can still be loved not only despite it but because of it.

♡ nsfw edition: it really strokes his ego to find all the smut you've written about him. Are these your fantasies? He'll keep them in mind and try them out on you and only afterwards will he tease you for having written such things about him

｡･:*˚:✧｡legolas

♡ he's a blushing mess, right up to the tips of his pointed ears. All of this about him? He has this dreamy smile on this face the whole time he's reading through all your fluffy works about him.

♡ like Thranduil, he's enamoured by all these stories of the two of you falling in love over and over again in all sorts of scenarios, it makes him feel like you truly do love him no matter what situation the two of you find each other in

♡ he's so caught up by the AUs!! He's quite confused by all these words he doesn't know but it's like a glimpse into your world!

♡ nsfw edition: he can't read the whole thing. The room feels too hot and he's a blushing mess and stumbling over his words and, oh valar, please help him when you find him in a state with your phone in his hand.

｡･:*˚:✧｡melkor | morgoth

♡ now I could go down a basic route and say that Melkor's ego inflates to an astronomical size because that's exactly how he acts when he confronts you about it but inside? The only things written about him have always been how evil he is and how terrible and irredeemable he is. You don't shy away from his worse traits and yet you write about loving him without trying to redeem him too?

♡ he honestly finds it strange (not weird strange, just unfamiliar strange) that you've depicted him as he is and yet you're writing about loving him? He's not sure how it feels (surprise, Melkor, this is how it feels to be loved, I know it's been a while since you've felt it-)

♡ his favourite parts about the AUs is that it's a world where Eru doesn't exist- no, jokes aside, he really likes the ones where not only are you ok with all his plans, you're actively encouraging and participating in them. Loyalty, obedience and utility are all important to him so these sorts of plots are his favourites.

♡ nsfw edition: will 110% tease you about your fantasies. Awe, this is what you want him to do to you? Beg. Beg as desperately and prettily as you can and once you're pleading for him through frustrated sobs and tears, maybe he'll consider fulfilling all of these filthy fantasies of yours (the begging is just because he knows how badly you want it now, he's more than keen yourself and it's a test of his own patience to hold back).

｡･:*˚:✧｡mairon | sauron

♡ he's reading everything with a big cat-like smirk on his face. You really are obsessed with him, aren't you? Good. He likes to be adored. He also likes knowing that you truly do love him and you're not just using him for something. Like Melkor, he especially likes how you write about loving him without redeeming him.

♡ he lives for any valar slander and he feels really validated by you admiring his perfectionism instead of criticising him for it. Really, he never thought he'd find that validation from anywhere other than Melkor so it's pleasantly surprising.

♡ he gets too confused by the AUs and ends up just skimming them out of frustration, sorry. He really likes the ones where he's in command of everything around him (he's slowly beginning to realise how much he likes your admiration and validation lol) bc he thinks you've characterised him well there

♡ nsfw edition: he'll initiate all of your fantasies without telling you that he knows. Then, halfway through he'll start teasing you about how all these dirty things are exactly what you wanted and you're nowhere as innocent as you make yourself out to be? You could have been writing love letters and yet you chose to write about him fucking your lights out instead. Cute. He thinks you're adorable.

☾ ⋆ﾟlike my work? why not:

∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

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the-angband-confessional · 8 months

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Y/N: Hey Melkor, wanna hear a joke? Silmarils

Melkor: I don't get it

Y/N: I know you don't

*sprinting faster than light*

Melkor tilts his head and stares after y/n, thinking and thinking about their little joke and what it actually meant.

"I don't get it?" He began. "I don't get it?!? What did they mean by I don't... Oh!"

The meaning finally dawned on him. Melkor silently seethed, his left eye twitching even as he mutters heatedly, "I see. I. Don't. Get. It."

#blossoms-of-darkness #confessional-sfw #the-angband-confessional #melkor #melkor x reader #morgoth #morgoth x reader

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edensrose · 8 months

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. ˚◞♡ 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 ◞ ₊˚﹕

now that I have finally got the blog revamp out, I think it's time I get back into writing. I've decided to open up my requests, please make sure to adhere to the slots per fandom! ( I have a lot of tolkien requests in my inbox so their slots will be significantly less )

˚◞❀˳ tolkien ( 5 / 5 )

˚◞❀˳ spiderverse ( 2 / 10 )

˚◞❀˳ kamisama kiss ( 4 / 6 )

˚◞❀˳ k project ( 7 / 7 )

˚◞❀˳ mo dao zu shi ( 5 / 5 )

don't forget to check out my guidelines before requesting as well as the characters I write for on the fandom specific masterlists

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animatorweirdo · 9 months

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Unexpected companionship

Melkor had been yearning for something else for a while, tired of his duties and responsibilities. So, one day, when he noticed a group of young dragons leaving Angband, he decided to follow but what he found was not what he expected.

(I was roleplaying around in chatgpt with this concept and it turned out rather wholesome in the end that I wanted to write it. hope you enjoy it too.)

Warnings: Mentions of abandonment, blindness, and living alone in dangerous woods. Melkor surprisingly does not do anything evil this time.

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Melkor was brooding in his darkened halls. Overseeing his conquest of Middle Earth and defeating his enemies gave him a certain amount of relief and pleasure, but nowadays, he was yearning for something else. The Silmarils weighed heavily upon his crown, and dealing with everyday affairs involving his subjects, captains, and lieutenants had grown into an arduous task. He yearned for something new, a temporary respite from his responsibilities.

It was not often he would desire something else than reaching his goal to conquer and become the true ruler of Arda and claiming all rightfully his, such as the silmarils that laid upon his head and now he had such a feeling, which sometimes frustrated him as he could never tell if he was tired or simply bored. He was also never sure what he should do to fulfill that desire.

Unexpectedly, that day arrived sooner than he had anticipated, as he began to observe an unusual pattern unfolding among his dragons.

A group of hatchlings have been leaving the nesting grounds each day in a strange group. It was strange because his dragons are solitary creatures, so seeing them depart and return together was odd. Usually, he does not care what his abominations do, but since this had been happening for some time he got curious, so one day – he decided to follow them.

He took up his disguise as a dark cloud and followed the hatchlings when it was time for them to leave for their next trip. They led him away from Angband to a dense forest. There was a human village which left him curious as there were no mountains where the hatchlings could hide their treasures, and the human village had been left untouched, so what in Illuvatar’s name could they be doing here?

Melkor continued on foot and followed the hatchling’s sounds of shrieks and what seemed to be… purring.

He found himself watching a lonely cottage, and to his surprise, he found the hatchlings surrounding a lone mortal woman, huddled up close to her and purring affectionately while the woman only smiled and petted them like children.

It was such a strange sight. His dragons, typically born wild and scarcely malleable, weren't inclined toward affection or submission by nature. Yet, before him, they stood unusually gentle and tranquil, treating this woman as though she were their own mother. How on earth was this maiden capable of such a thing? And not only that, she didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by the sight of them.

He contemplated if he should confront the woman, but he could not contain his curiosity and decided to appear as a mere stranger to avoid alarming the woman. He then stepped out of the shadows.

The hatchlings noticed his presence immediately and watched him cautiously. You stared at them, feeling confused until you heard footsteps. Turning your gaze towards the direction from which the sounds emanated, you saw him.

“Good evening, my fair lady,” Melkor began, his voice carrying a pleasant tone. “Forgive me for disturbing you, but I couldn't help but notice you are surrounded by these splendid creatures. I am intrigued, for they are renowned for their aggressiveness. I wonder how you have achieved such a remarkable thing?” he said.

“Oh— hello, good sir,” you greeted with a smile.

“Uhmm…well… I do not know about them being aggressive. They can sometimes be a bit sassy to me, but other times they’re nothing but sweethearts to me,” you smiled softly as one of the dragons pushed its head against your palm, purring in delight. “Fascinating…” Melkor uttered as he watched you. “And you’re not afraid of these creatures?” he questioned, and you softly laughed. “Of course not. They have done nothing to harm me. On the contrary, they have kept me company and sometimes helped me find food,” you explained. “Even though I’m not quite certain what they are… All I know is they’re big lizards with wings. Do you possibly know what they are, good sir?” you looked up to him.

“They’re known as… dragons, my fair lady. Fierce creatures of fire and destruction. They have a quiet reputation outside these woods,” Melkor answered.

“Dragons…?” you said curiously. “Oh, I think I have heard about them, nothing nice thought,” you answered. “But honestly, they don’t remind me of anything I heard in the passing rumors. They actually kinda remind me of oversized cats with scales and wings,” you giggled, making him crack a rare smile. He then remembered what you said earlier. “They keep you… company?” he questioned.

“Yes. It can get kinda lonely in these woods. I don’t often get visitors, but one day I encountered one of these little fellows— they have been visiting me ever since.” you smiled fondly. “May I ask how that happened?” Melkor asked.

“Well… one day, I was gathering some berries and found this one trapped in a cruel hunter’s snare,” you said, gently scratching beneath the dragon perched on your shoulder. “I couldn't bring myself to leave him there; he would have become easy prey for predators or hunters,” you explained. "He did snap at me for a long time and bit me, but when his wing got better, he turned into the most affectionate cuddle bug in the world. Then, he brought his friends along, and they have been keeping me company ever since,” you said.

“Honestly, they have been treating me better than most people. Not even my own family come to visit me this often,” you said, gaining the dark Valar’s attention.

“And why is that, If I may ask?” Melkor tilted his head in curiosity.

“Well – if my eyes and raggedy appearance were not obvious enough. It's because I’m blind, good sir,” you confessed, making Melkor look at you with surprise. You looked so normal that he didn’t take you for a blind person, but now that he looked at you – he could see some strange mist behind your eyes, and your clothes did look very poor. It explained a lot to him, like why you didn’t seem afraid of his creations or him in fact.

“My apologies. I wasn’t aware you were incapable of seeing,” Melkor apologized. “It’s fine. I got told many times that I don’t look blind, so I’m used to people assuming,” you softly smiled with a dismissing hand.

“I was born blind, and my family did not want to take extra responsibility for me. Unfortunately for people like me, it's rather common to be left to live alone in woods like this, and that is what my family did to me,” you explained with a saddened look. “They tried to explain that I would be much safer if I lived here, but I guessed their true intentions when they stopped visiting me so often and got used to the sounds of wolves howling each night,” you took a deep sigh.

“Sometimes I think they wish that I tragically end up getting eaten by the wolves, taken by how surprised they always sound when they visit,” you said.

“That sounds…rather cruel. To put into a situation like that, especially for something you couldn't control since birth,” Melkor thoughtfully said. “Indeed… but I learned my way around here, so it's fine,” you replied.

“You know, being blind is rather interesting in a way. You focus so much more on your sense of hearing and smell that it feels like it's a totally new world,” you explained. “And since you cannot see, nothing truly looks pretty or ugly to you,” you giggled.

“And also…” you looked down upon the hatchlings with a fond smile. “I stopped being lonely when these little friends started visiting me, so I’m happy,” you said while petting one of them.

Melkor sensed an odd feeling of warmth within his chest after listening to you talk and watching you look at his creations with such a fond expression. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and oddly he liked it.

“Oh, sorry for rambling. You most likely do not want to hear my sob story,” you glanced apologetically.

“It's fine, my fair lady. I asked, and you answered,” Melkor said sweetly. “On the contrary, I find your resolve to find positivity in things despite your rough predicament admirable and your ability to navigate the world without eyesight remarkable. And you possess a gentle heart even for creatures hated by others which is a rare thing in this world,” he explained smoothly. “Oh— you flatter me too much, good sir,” you said with a flush which made him smirk.

“If my fair lady permits it — may I join you for a chat? I would love to hear more about your time with these creatures,” Melkor asked.

“Oh— certainly!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together. “I would love for you to join. I’m afraid I do not have any refreshments to offer, though,” you said.

"Your company is more than enough," he said politely.

“Ah… if you say so,” you smiled at him. “Perhaps you could share stories and news of the outside world. They rarely come around here,” you suggested.

“Of course, a fair exchange,” Melkor answered as he sat beside you, and you both talked and shared stories. You were completely unaware of whom you were conversing with, but Melkor did not mind as he found his remedy for his yearning for something else.

#melkor x reader #melkor #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #tolkien #melkor x blind reader #dragons #middle earth x reader #middle earth #silm fic #melkor oneshot

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

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A Lord’s Proposition

Prompts “bite me” ”if you insist” and “each of my thoughts about you are improper”

Pairing: Melkor x Fem. Reader (Elf / Finwë’s daughter with Miriel and Fëanor’s twin| second person POV)

Themes: Slowburn | Smut (lemon-ish) | Soft

Wordcount: 4.9K words

Summary: Melkor had kidnapped you and kept you confined to a tower while he travelled to Utumno. He has now returned, and asks for you.

Rating: 🔥🔥 Minors DNI | 18+

For rules and tag form, read here.

To the person who requested this, I hope you like it.

You looked out a barred window, your heart aggrieved by the sight that befell your eyes.

There was no starlight here. None could be found in Angband. The sky was murky black from the thick smog of smoke from the keep’s many furnaces. The air was damp and cold and foul. The scent of ash and smoke and worse crept in through the windows and clung to your garments. Some days, the smell was so strong that it made your eyes water and bile rise at the back of your throat. You had no choice but to bear it all in silence. You were a prisoner, utterly dependent on the favor of the one who held you captive.

Still, you supposed, it was a better fate than most. You turned your attention from the sky and peered into the gloomy courtyard. Thralls scurried to and fro like mice desperately trying to escape the talons of an eagle. They were like wraiths, mere shadows of the fair and glorious beings they once were. That was how your captor liked to see them: fearful, half-starved, and brought down to the lowest point of their existence.

Not just them, you realized with great dread. I am one of them. The daughter of a race he loathes with a murderous passion, so the poets and singers say. How long will it be before I am made to sip from the cup that was forced onto them?

Your skin prickled out of fear. You closed the shutters of your window and sharply turned away as soon as a wretched scream carried through the courtyard. You did not want to dwell on that sound or from whom it came. There was no need to feed your nightmares with fresh fodder.

You studied your chambers like you always did, ever since your capture. The walls and floors were bare black stone, the pelts were thick, and the rushes were new. Besides the old hearth, there was a basket filled with blocks of peat instead of wood for a fire. The bed was small but comfortable. You reflected on the remnants of your last meal. The bread and roasted meat had been fresh, the water was clean and cool.

Mine may be a wretched lot, but it is still better than theirs, you reminded yourself. Much better than theirs.

Someone knocked on the door. It was loud and insistent. You made haste to answer it, your shoes clicking over the floor. You expected to find a thrall and came face-to-face with her instead.

Thuringwethil, they called her. Woman of the secret shadow. Herald for the Dark Lord. The first vampire. Her eyes gleamed like new rubies. Her wings dragged behind her whenever she walked. A gown was draped over one arm.

"My lady." You quickly dipped to your knees even as the words stumbled out of your mouth. Anything to not anger her.

A gale of laughter greeted you. It was shrill and painful to the ears, like nails over brittle glass. You had to stop yourself from physically wincing.

"You certainly have good manners, little elf," Thuringwethil replied, and looked over you critically. "That will serve you well with him, I think."

"With him, my lady?" You sputtered in disbelief. "Which him?"

Your mind was a roil. There was more than one him here in Angband, and each one was as mercurial as the next. Was Thuringwethil speaking of Mairon, Melkor’s most favored advisor? Or was she speaking of that Balrog high general? The one who could change from a creature of great beauty to one that inspired nothing but sheer terror? Or was it the Maia who found great joy in changing into a giant cat and tormenting everyone who crossed his path?

"Him," she said, and moved around you in an elegant flourish. Her wings trailed behind her over the floor, all black and deep crimson. You took a deep breath and sighed wistfully. The very air around her smelled like a meadow in full bloom. It did not surprise you. Thuringwethil used to be Yavanna’s Maia after all. "Lord Melkor, no less. He has returned from Utumno and wishes to dine with you."

You gave her a measured look. You were a prisoner, captured and carried off after a daring raid in the heart of Valinor itself. And now you have been invited to dine with your captor, the Lord of Angband, no less. The prospect frightened you.

"I… I hope I will not offend Lord Melkor," you blurted out, and hoped this invitation was not a ruse to heap unspeakable agony upon you.

"I see you truly are nothing like that heedless, foul-tempered brother of yours," Thuringwethil observed, not unkindly. "And I promise, he will not be offended by anything you do."

She did not give you time to think or frame a reply. She went on to add, "Thralls will see to your bath now. An orc will come to fetch you once you have finished."

You shivered and nodded in fright. Thuringwethil took her leave of you, practically floating out of your chambers in a swirl of wings and lace and night-blooming roses. You walked over to your bed and ran the flat of your palm over your new dress. It was soft to the touch and dripping in gems, and finer than any gown you possessed before.

So lavish, you mused. What does he want from me?

There was another knock on your door. This time it was hesitant and timid. "Come in, please," you said, and moved away from the bed.

Thralls walked in carrying pails of clean, warm water. Another pair brought with them a small copper tub and a towel. A thrall filled the tub with water before adding fragrant oils. Another helped you out of your robes, her eyes downcast. Her fingers fumbled with the sash; it was as if they had all turned into thumbs. You wanted to talk to her, to ask how she came to be here. All you did, in the end, was bite your tongue.

I must take care of what I say to them. It may cause more trouble for them if I do.

The sweet-smelling water was a welcome relief from the smells of the outside world. The thralls sluiced water over your hair before gently brushing out any tangles. One of them went to work on your nails and feet. It felt strange, to have them wait on you in such a manner. It was stranger still, given the cause for such pampering.

She said nothing I do could offend him. I am certain now that he must want something from me. What is it?

You had seen Melkor before. He had come calling on your brother; his words like honey. You were by an upstairs window, looking down on the gardens where they stood. Fëanor had been furious with the Vala’s intrusion. He grew even more enraged when the Vala glanced up and caught you looking, his lips curling up at the corners. Their exchange grew heated. Fëanor sent Melkor away, but not before Melkor managed to steal a second glimpse of you. That was all you saw of him until after your capture, when you were presented to him like a prize, your arms and feet bound in iron, your clothes reduced to rags. He said nothing. All he did was sit on his lofty throne and look down on you, his eyes roaming over you in a way that made a flush creep up your throat.

You never saw him after that. Melkor kept you confined to the tower you now lived in. No one was allowed to see you save for the thralls that had to tend to you and Thuringwethil. The other Maia were allowed nowhere near you. Even the orcs were allowed nowhere near you, until now.

It is as if he does not trust the others with me.

A thrall held out their arm, to help you out of the tub. You stood still while they toweled you dry, your cheeks ablaze when they first helped you into the wisps Thuringwethil brought with her. The garments were so soft, you did not even notice them. Next came the dress, an airy confection of lace and silk that clung to your body. Then came a pair of soft slippers and finally a perfume, one that was dabbed on each of your wrists and behind your ears. The thralls wanted to style your hair, but you declined, insisting on wearing it loose.

"The master calls," insisted the orc that came to escort you to Melkor’s private chambers deep within Angband. "Come."

You followed him silently, walking through lofty corridors and vast halls, each as empty and dimly lit as the next. Your footsteps echoed all around you even as you sunk deep into your thoughts. Melkor had insisted you be brought to him alive. He had kept you in a tower, apart from the thralls and other prisoners. He had provided you with decent food and drink, even new garments. No one was allowed to harm a hair on your head. And the way he looked at you when you were presented to him, his eyes dark with hunger. The memory alone was enough to give you pause.

You shook your head. No. It could not be. Melkor desired nothing but the complete dominion of Arda. He treasured nothing but power and causing pain. That was what the songs said. That was what your father and brother said. And yet…

And yet…

He kept me safe. Made certain my needs were seen to. Did nothing to cause me harm. Were they all wrong?

The orc stopped by large wooden doors, each more than twice your height. "Let her in," he snapped at the guards. They obeyed and opened the doors for you. "Get in," he mumbled almost in politeness.

You meekly stepped over the threshold and made your way into a chamber as large as the halls you had passed. There was a soft thud. That was the sound of the doors closing behind you. You were truly trapped now.

The room you were in was nearly as silent as a tomb. And poorly lit. There were no lamps, or torches. Just a dim fire sputtering away in the hearth.

"Come closer, little elf," a deep voice called from behind you.

You gulped in fright but turned in the direction of that voice.

"Closer," it called. "Come closer."

One measured footstep followed another. You walked on hesitantly, not stopping until you reached a smaller chamber filled with the light of several candles. There was a large bed in one corner, and a small table at the far end. This room, too, was empty. You were confused now. Where did that voice come from?

"Does this please you?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the voice behind you. You turned on your heel and found yourself looking at your captor. Melkor was studying you with a quizzical gleam in his eye. "My lord," you murmured, and gracefully dipped to your knees, remembering your courtesies.

He laughed merrily. "Thuringwethil was right. You do have nice manners."

You looked at him, shocked. She spoke to him about me. Why would she do that?

Melkor smirked and looked at you approvingly before walking over to the table. He pulled out a chair and gestured for you to join him. It confused you even more. The table was devoid of food and drink.

"The food…" you breathed out and struggled for words. Melkor was as glorious as the day you first saw him. The image of him standing there and watching you was enough to muddle your mind. "There… there is no food, my lord."

"There will be food," he replied, "for later. For now, sit."

You obeyed and made your way to the table, your skin prickling the entire time. You glanced at Melkor and found his eyes following your every move. There was something dark and primal in his eyes, something you could not quite describe.

"I will not mince words,” he said. “The reason why I summoned you," Melkor waited till you made yourself comfortable before moving to the chair opposite yours. "Is because I have a… proposition to make."

"Proposition?" You repeated, baffled. Melkor was one of the most high. There was no need for him to ask anything of anyone when he could simply take whatever, and whomever he desired, without so much as a "by your leave."

“Yes." Melkor studied you before saying, "A proposition. I wish to make you my companion. I made this offer to your brother. I was hoping he would put a word in where your father was concerned…"

The day he called on your twin. He had asked for you. You kept asking why and Fëanor refused to explain the cause. He grew angry whenever you asked. Your father finally forbade you from broaching the topic.

"But the fool refused," Melkor snorted in derision. "Now that I have you here with me, I would like to ask this of you myself. Will you be my companion and bind yourself to me?"

You swallowed and wrung your hands. His companion, he said. You did not even know what it would mean. What little you knew of intimate relations between elves came from the books you read while the others were away. "Your companion, my lord. What would I have to do? Read to you? Play the harp?"

Melkor laughed again, softly this time. "Your family has kept you ignorant of many things, I see. I do not wish you to merely read to me and amuse me with music, little elf. To put it in simpler terms, I want you to share my bed."

Your cheeks were aflame. To share his bed. You had read enough books to know what that meant. "To share pleasures with you…" you sputtered, "but if I go back, if the other elves find out what I allowed you to do to me, I will be ruined."

"The other elves will not find out.”

“Why not?”

“Because your brother is not coming for you," Melkor said simply.

"He is coming for me!" you insisted. Your eyes stung with hot tears threatening to break free. Melkor was the prince of lies. That was what they all said. You refused to believe him, thinking he was lying to you even now. "Fëanor is coming for me!"

"He is not, little elf," Melkor replied gently. "Fëanor is not coming for you. His hunger to create the silmarils has consumed him."

Despair of the acutest kind settled over you like a thick fog. The creation of hallowed jewels, each containing the light of the two trees, was all your twin talked about. He would think of nothing else until such priceless treasures rested in his hands. You knew him well enough for that.

"And your father’s thoughts have been consumed with the new family he is creating with his second wife. No one is coming for you." Melkor reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "Say yes, little elf. Take my hand, and every comfort imaginable will be yours. I will be yours."

You sat there, feeling alone and wretched. Your brother was not coming for you. Your father was not coming for you. Days had bled into weeks and weeks into a wholly different season, and no one had come for you. There had not even been a whiff of an elf seeking you out. Your kin had abandoned you to your fate, and the knowledge of it was too much to bear. It made you want to cry, to scream and tear out your hair, but such acts were useless. They would not set you free, and they would not make your kin search for you. You turned your attention to Melkor. He offered a life you were once accustomed to. Perhaps he was not lying. Perhaps he was telling the truth. But still, to say yes to him and take him inside of you…

"The others… your servants…" you whispered, "What will they say?"

"Nothing." Melkor smiled and spread his broad hands. "Life in Angband is different. You can be with whomever you wish, whenever you wish, and however you wish. No one will say a word in protest."

"No one?" You glanced at him, trying to get a sense of him. "Not even you?"

Melkor ground his jaw and growled. His eyes narrowed to thin slats. "You are mine, little elf. All of you belong to me."

Goosebumps rose all over your flesh when he said it. The sheer possessiveness in his tone was enough to make you forget your sense of dread and excite you to the point of actually considering his offer.

"Before I say yes," you licked your lips nervously and confessed, "I… I must tell you I have neither the… skill nor the… experience… in such matters. What little I know has come from books."

Melkor’s lips tugged at the corners. "I thought as much. But first, you must say yes."

To say yes. To take his hand and bind yourself to him for all time. You thought of your suitors, how all of them bowed their heads and walked away without a second glance the moment Fëanor denied them. Then there was Melkor, who willingly risked war and doom to bring you here. You knew what your answer would be.

"Yes."

"Come."

He rose and took you by hand, helping you out of your chair and leading you straight to his bed. You eyed the silk sheets and the soft pillows. To just lay in that bed was temptation enough. Melkor did not give you time to think of much else. He grabbed your arms and kissed you before you could say another word.

The books spoke of kisses that were sweet and soft, like feathers. Melkor’s kiss was none of that. It was all heat and wildness and hunger. His tongue glided over the seams of your mouth before pressing against your lips. You sighed helplessly and parted them for him. His mouth tasted like some dark spice you could not get enough of. Melkor smirked in triumph, his breath heating your flesh.

"How easily you yield, little elf!" he cried when you tugged on his tunic to pull him closer. "And how fortunate I am to have you in my grasp!" He laughed again and placed his hands over your shoulders, pushing you down onto the edge of the bed. "Tell me," he cooed softly, "What else did you read in these books?"

You looked at him, your eyes widening when he undid the buckle of his belt. "I…" You glanced at him, then at what he was doing. He was loosening the drawstrings of his breeches. "I have read about certain acts, but…" Your cheeks heated when he tugged it down just enough to free his cock. "But…"

"It was not enough?" Melkor asked and caressed your cheek. "Then I will guide you. Open that pretty mouth for me, little elf."

He waited, neither forcing nor demanding that you obey. A thumb glided over your lips, making you look at him. "Open little elf," he insisted gently, "Go on."

The sight of him all exposed and hard proved too tempting. You opened your mouth, eager and willing and curious, struggling to breathe while he sank his length. Melkor moved slowly and gently, his hands delving into your hair and keeping you steady. He groaned and shivered when you ran your tongue along his shaft and let curious hands skim over his thighs. His hand glided over to cup your cheek. You opened your eyes and found his fixed on yours; his mouth parted in a silent moan.

"I have been thinking about you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, little elf," he confided, whimpering when your tongue brushed over his tip. "Each of my thoughts about you have been improper."

Melkor was gentle with his instructions. "Loosen your jaw, little elf." He caressed your cheek again to catch your attention. "You clench it too much."

It was easier after that. You reached up and clutched the edges of his tunic, your mind going hazy with bliss. Everything you felt, from the hands brushing over your hair to the little ridges brushing against your lips to the soft grunts you heard, was dark and sinful. You had often wondered what such acts would be like while reading books forbidden to you, but no words could describe what you were feeling now, all feverish and wanton.

Melkor drew back and pushed you onto the sheets. You gazed at him, surprised, and more than a little disappointed. "Move further up, little elf," he chuckled, running his thumb over your swollen lips. "I want to claim you as mine."

Again, you did as he asked, even more eager this time. You moved further up the bed, trembling whenever you felt the wetness between your thighs. Melkor undid the clasps of his tunic one by one. You expected to find vast parts of him withered and deformed, as the songs said. What was slowly revealed instead was the stuff of a maiden’s dreams: a fana that was all supple muscle and devoid of flaw. His skin was the color of new steel, and his arms were large and strong.

Not once did he use that strength to force me, you mused, flushing when the mattress sank and he crawled into bed with you, boots on and all. Melkor pushed your thighs apart with his. His hands slid under your skirts.

"I…" You found yourself trembling with growing need when the flat of his palm glided over your leg. "I thought we must be undressed, my lord."

"Next time," Melkor promised. He hiked your skirts up to your waist and shoved his hand down your undergarments, ripping them apart with one tug. "For now, let me do this."

His fingers grazed your slick heat. The friction was delicious enough to make you see stars. Melkor trembled. He actually trembled. His touch was gentle, almost worshipful in its exploration. He propped himself on his free arm, just so he could watch you while he slipped a finger inside of you. It made your breath hitch when that finger slid deeper and deeper.

"My lord," you moaned without even realizing it. He dipped his head and ghosted his lips over yours.

"I am here, little elf," he purred softly, brushing his hand over your hair. He dipped his head again, nibbling your earlobe and sighing when your arms circled his back.

He had been thinking of me since he first saw me, you remembered. When was that?

"M-my lord?" Your back began to arch with each thrust of his finger. He inserted a second as carefully as the first, groaning whenever your warmth clenched around them. "W-when did you first see me?"

"When I was allowed to return to Valinor," he confessed softly against your neck. "I saw you with your father and brother near the Ring of Doom. I stayed in the shadows and watched you. Even then, I knew I had to make you mine."

The Ring of Doom. When your father was called to hear the Valar’s verdict on his appeal to remarry. That was a full century before Melkor approached your brother for you.

A hundred years was but the blink of an eye for an elf. Lesser still for a being such as him. But still...A hundred years. He had been seeking me out over a hundred years. Your hands brushed over his hair while he nibbled at your earlobe. The thought of him marking you with his teeth was enough to make your pulse scramble. You grew a little bolder.

“M-my lord?" You mumbled shyly. "W-would you c-consider marking me?"

“Bite you, little elf?"

"Y-yes. B-bite me."

Melkor raised his head, his dark eyes darkening even more. You heard a low and otherworldly growl. The sound inflamed you. "If you insist," he said, leaning in and running his tongue over the hollow of your throat. "Turn your head to the side, little elf."

He peppered the soft expanse of your throat with kisses that were bruising and almost violent. Every time his teeth grazed the curve of your neck, your nails would dig into his back. "Melkor," you sighed again. "There. Right there. Oh."

"Now everyone who sees you will know you are mine." He lifted his head and admired the canvas he had made out of your body. When he drew his fingers away, it made you feel strangely empty. "Rest your legs over my hips, little elf." Melkor hovered over you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. "And do not tense. Can you manage this?"

He wanted to claim your maidenhead. You looked up at him, trying to decide what to do. If he did, if you said yes to this, you could never go back. The other acts you could hide in lies, but not this. Never this. No elf would stay married to you once the truth came to light. Your family would never welcome you back. Your father would not wish to ruin the prospects for any child born to his second wife, and your brother… you shivered. You did not want to even think of what Fëanor would do to you.

Why am I fretting over what others will say, when those others have already turned their backs on me?

Melkor’s knuckles drifted over your throat. He may never ask for you again. He could send you away and carry on like nothing happened. It would would you deeply if he did. But the memories would feel so sweet.

You made up your mind. You moved your legs over his hips, the insides of your thighs rubbing up against the supple leather of his breeches. It felt strange but wonderful. "I am ready," you whispered.

“I will be gentle," Melkor promised, trembling again. His kiss was soft and so very warm. He kissed you until you were breathless, kissed you until you moaned, and your hold around him tightened. He guided his shaft inch by slow inch into your slit, stopping whenever you whimpered to give you time to breathe. His hand glided over your thigh, your belly, his words a sweet melody in a tongue you had never heard of in your life. It put your entire body at ease. He would move again, now slowly, now gently, filling you in ways you never thought possible. He stopped again, this time after claiming your maidenhood. He looked at you with questioning eyes, as if asking for permission.

"Yes," you assured him, sighing when he moaned and started to move.

He was so big, and it felt uncomfortable. And he was gentle, just like he promised. Pain and discomfort slowly gave away to a pleasure that had no name. Every time he moved, every time he found a place that sent jolts of deep ecstasy licking up your spine, you clung to him, moaning his name shamelessly. Melkor’s lips crushed yours in an all-consuming kiss. At your own urging, he went a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster, growling when his hips slapped against the insides of your thighs. It was too much. And not enough. And intoxicating all at the same time. Melkor knelt up and dragged you with him.

"Kiss me," he demanded, "and make it count."

His fingers dug into the back of your dress, his nails ripping into the fabric the moment your mouth opened over his. His tongue tasted like wine when it pressed against yours, and his hair felt like silk when it slipped around your fingers. A tension that was sweet and drugging grew in your belly.

"So-something is ha-happening," you mewled, not knowing what it meant. "I... d-do not understand…"

You may not have known, but Melkor did. "Soon, little elf," he whispered, latching onto the curve of your neck. A mixture of kisses and nips of the teeth skimmed over your throat. "A little more. Just a little more."

That soon came faster than you could have thought. Your muscles coiled and tightened, and snapped, like your body was splintering into a million different pieces. You could not think. You could even breathe. You were lost in a sea of untold rapture. You barely felt it, Melkor’s hold on you tightening even as your nails raked over his skin. You barely heard it—a deep grunt of satisfaction when he thrust one last time, and a torrent of his spend filled you.

The world had gone still, so very still. Your thoughts were still muddled when Melkor laid you on your back. You were silent while clarity slowly crept in.

Melkor had claimed all you willingly gave, and so much more. He made you experience joys you had never experienced before. And now you braced yourself, your heart gripped in agony, thinking he might prove the tales told about him true and send you away, never to seek you out after that. The books did not prepare you for the pain of his rejection. You prepared yourself anyway, your body still shaking when the featherbed sank again under his weight. Melkor threw an arm over your waist and drew you to him. Both arms encircled you now, even as he buried his face in your hair.

"I will have your possessions moved to my chambers. Rest for now, little elf." He mumbled and pressed a chaste kiss over your shoulder. "When you wake up, I will bathe you, and we will dine together. Perhaps you could even read to me."

tags: @lemonivall @cilil @edensrose @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese

#Melkor #Melkor smut #Melkor x reader #Morgoth #morgoth smut #The silm #The silm imagine #the silmarilion #melkor imagine #morgoth imagine #x reader #Reader insert #reader insert request #writeblr #fanfiction #The valar #The ainur #💫a world of whimsy writes

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luna-redamancy · 2 years

Note

I see that requests are open! I'm going to keep this one simple. Morgoth and Sauron sharing a female reader. Interpret that as you will.

You see...When I first read this... My brain went: Smut. SMut. SMUT. Straight-up spiciness. But no, we are wholesome tonight! Enjoy:

The morning air was crisp, but you could only feel it on the tip of your nose as you woke up, eyes blinking to adjust to the bright room. You were warm, surrounded by heat.

Melkor had his head on top of yours, his chin resting on the crown of your head with his hand holding yours, his other under the pillow.

Mairon was behind you, face buried in your neck with his one arm looped around your waist to keep you to him- like a child hugging onto a stuffed bear at night. His legs were tangled with yours while Melkor’s right leg was up and over the two of you, trapping you in.

Shifting slightly to roll over, it appeared that you awoke Melkor.

Making a sound mixed between a groan and a sigh, Melkor lifted his head upwards for you to move freely.

Mairon stayed asleep, grip loosening ever so slightly as you shifted before he scrunched his brows in his sleep, pulling you tight against his chest once more.

Chuckling to himself, Melkor pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he lowered himself to hold you from behind. His eyes shut with a blissful expression as he inhaled your scent. The lingering smell of your body wash and shampoo infiltrated his senses as he nuzzled his nose against your flesh.

Now that you were awake you couldn’t fight the urge. Mairon was so so pretty, his long eyelashes kissing the flesh of his under-eyes, expression peaceful and content now that you were flush against him again.

Licking your lower lip, you glanced from his eyes down to his lips, soft and plush looking. Leaning up, you pressed your lips to his own, feeling his body slowly awoke by your ministrations. He stiffened before relaxing, hand changing positions from holding onto your waist to cradling your cheek to tilt your head back and deepen the kiss. It was loving, strong, and for a moment you could feel his love for you that nearly reached obsession.

As you two separated, you laughed at his dazed expression, kissing his nose before relaxing against the pillow.

“Now, now, that’s not fair,” Melkor tsked, kissing your shoulder again. “He gets all the kisses this morning,” Early in your relationship with these two you’d assume he was jealous, angry at you for sharing your lips with another, but in reality, it’s just his coded way of requesting his own kisses without outright saying so.

“Big baby,” You huffed, but the amused smile on your lips told the two of them that you were anything but angry.

Twisting to lay on your back, you carefully held Melkor’s face in your hand, guiding his lips to yours. Melkor’s kisses were softer, less demanding, but still had that obsessive passion emitting from them like his other lover as he adjusted to holding himself over you.

When he pulled away, it was you in a daze, making Mairon's laugh grace your ears as he leaned over you to capture Melkor’s lips in his own.

Your heart felt full and nearly bursting as the two also exchanged morning kisses.

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autumnshighlady · 4 months

Text

IMPORTANT QUESTION!

are you guys comfortable with dark fics?

i’d love to write some dark!azriel x reader as well as some even darker sauron and melkor x reader but i’m not sure how well it would be received. now don’t get me wrong i will not be writing g0re, r4pe (altho consent could be quite dubious with sauron and melkor for obvious reasons), forced pregnancy, or anything extreme. i am a survivor of SA so will ensure things are as least triggering as possible

but i really enjoyed writing dark!azriel in the “carving their name into you” prompt and would like to do more.

please reply or send in an ask with your thoughts on this :)

#azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #azriel x reader #dark!azriel #dark!azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #sauron x reader #sauron #melkor #melkor x reader

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ainur-confessions · 1 year

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melkor & fem!lover with ‘ one more time? for old times’ sake. ’ <3 pretty please <3

❪ ♡ ❫ ── melkor, "come on, for old time's sake?" prompt

"you should not be here.''

"oh, how cruel can you be?"

"cruel? such a word should be reserved for you.''

the warm presence against your back prompts you to spin on heel. lips pressed in a thin line and your gaze unfaltering in its icy stance. rivalling the warmth that emanates from his own violet stare.

dark and terrible, the lord of corruption and lies stands before you. tall, mighty - yet his face held a certain softness. one that no other being has seen for aeons, other than you. his love, his soul-bound, who chose to part with him upon his fall. even after all this time, he finds himself here in valinor's shadows to see you.

"have I truly lost your favour?"

you turn away from his question and place your hands onto your marble balcony railing. "what do you think?" you mutter after drawing a brief breath to quell the suffocating feeling that begins to rise in your lungs."I will not humour you, dark lord.'' from the corner of your eye you catch his frown before directing your gaze to the horizon once more. "leave in me peace.''

silence fills the air and for a moment you consider the possibility of his departure, but you knew him well. you knew him most.

which is why all you can do is sigh when that same warmth wraps around your middle and your back is engulfed in the familiar flame that now makes you frown. however, you do not part from him, you cannot will yourself to for the moment.

"what is it that you want, melkor?" your whisper mimics the softness of his face nuzzling your neck and his dark hair tickling your skin. "you of all people know what it is.''

"I cannot give it to you.'' you counter, finally turning to him. as if your arms knew where they belonged, they hook around his neck and he instinctively loops his tighter around your waist. "then at the very least indulge me before I am to let you go again.'' such gentleness would have been considered out of character to most. but you knew him, more than anyone.

melkor pulls you to the centre of the balcony and takes your hand in his larger one, his gaze never leaving yours. "dance with me.''

your gaze softens, yet you still attempt to shake your head. "melkor, I c-''

"oh, come on,'' the vala cuts you off and leans down, dark strands brushing your face as he brings himself a mere inch away from you. "one more time, for old time's sake?"

starstruck, is what you were. staring into the eyes that were once your world, that still are. the curl on your lips is faint, and slowly you nod your head as you lean closer to him as you always have.

"alright,'' your whisper brushes his lips as he twirls your body with his beneath the moonlight.

"for old time's sake.''

#·⊰ ꒰🎐꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 ៸៸ melkor ─ ♡.#melkor x reader #melkor #morgoth #morgoth x reader #the silmarillion #silm #tolkien #fluff #imagines #writing

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ainur-interactions · 2 years

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*Eyes melkor and Mairon*

"Well, you two fucked my moral compass so might aswell fuck me too. At this point itd be rude not too"

a smirk finds its way to the dark lord's lips as he takes your chin between his fingers and raises your head. “is that so? are you certain that you aren't biting off more than you can chew, dollface?”

it is then that you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind and warm lips against your neck. “I believe they are, my lord.” croons mairon against your ear.

#·⊰ ꒰🌸꒱ 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ៸៸ mairon ─ ♡.#·⊰ ꒰🌸꒱ 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ៸៸ melkor ─ ♡.#mairon #mairon x reader #sauron #sauron x reader #melkor #melkor x reader #morgoth #morgoth x reader #the silmarillion #silm #tolkien #ainur #valar #maiar #smut #minors dni #interactions

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doodle-pops · 9 months

Text

When You Fake An Orgasm | The Ainur

A/N: I realised that I haven't been posting any Ainur content which is bad. Just the usual bunch, no Oromë, Ulmo, Ossë and Tulkas. Perhaps in a separate post, I'll write for them.

Warnings: fem!reader, bondage, rough sex, edging, overstimulation (multiple orgasms), orgasm denial, temperature play, asphyxiation, pet names (princess, dollface, doll), reader passing out, impact play

༻¨*:·Manwë

This Vala doesn’t play when it comes to you faking something he’s passionate about, and it was perhaps your worse mistake because he’ll keep you up all night to tire you out. Manwё doesn’t have a problem fucking it into your mind, so you never make the mistake again. It’s more pleasure for him.

For a moment, you felt smaller than normal under the scrutiny of his glare when you faked your moans and trembled your legs, acting all tired and sleepy. His thrusts slowed and his arms that gripped your thighs dropped them. One hand snaked easily up your torso and gripped your chin, forcing you to look him in his eyes while the other snatched your hands and pinned them above your head. In an instant, his pace picked back up but with more vigour and power, rocking the bed and trembling your bones. “Faking your orgasm with me princess…when I know exactly what this cunt feels like when it cums?” He laughed and scoffed.

Pulling himself off your sweaty body and straightening himself to prepare for the onslaughter he was about to deliver, it was alright if he ran late to his little meeting with Lord Námo. He had to teach you a lesson first. “If you wanted me to fuck you better, you simply had to ask. But for you little stunt, I’ll make you beg me to cum.” You couldn’t help but widen your eyes as the power of his thrusts increased making your eyes roll in the back of your head. The loud, whiney and pathetic moans that left your lips, begging him to slow down make him laugh. “M-Manwё…p-…please slow d-down, I’m s-sorry…ngghh. Won’t do it…again…” Kissing his teeth, he repositioned him, releasing your chin and pushing your legs over his shoulders, folding you into the bed. “Don’t complain, love, you asked for this, or would you rather me deny you?” Shaking your head frantically at the second option, you whined and begged him not to. “Good girl, consider this mercy with a warning…don't attempt this again.” With that, he kissed your lips and went to work with delivering all his promised overstimulation, sending you to sleep earlier than usual.

༻¨*:·Irmo

You are playing a dangerous game with his Vala who basically has a hand in manipulating sexual pleasure. Irmo isn’t going to let your little game go so easily, he’s holding it to his heart. So, tell me, why fake it? Do you like punishment?

“P-Please…I’m s-…sorry…” you hiccupped with tears streaming down the sides of your pretty face. You were tied to the bed after your little stunt while Irmo sat between your leg, torturously rubbing your clit, fingering and eating you out all that the same time, yet never giving you your release. Edging your for more than an hour, you were covered in a bucket of sweat, tears and hickeys. All the while, Irmo appeared pleased and smug at his artwork. His eyes glittered with affection the longer he stared at how desperately you were searching for your orgasm while he dangled it over your head on a string, out of reach.

“I’m s-…sorry,” he mocked with a laugh, “you sound so pathetic, princess. I thought you didn’t want an orgasm?” He shuffled closer, keeping his finger languorously rubbing circles on your clit, to kiss your forehead. He withheld four orgasms from you, and this was your fifth he was about to deny you. The silver-haired God who hovered over you with a sickeningly sweet and sadistic smile dragged his finger lower and slunk it into your hole and snickered when your eyes rolled back. For a moment, you assumed he was being merciful after the torturous hour he punished you for, but he was attempting to set a record. How long could he edge you for? “I-Irmo, please. I won’t do it again…p-promise,” you whined.

“Oh, I know you won’t because when I’m through, your pretty little brain will remember.”

༻¨*:·Námo

This man has patience, unlike any other being that exists. If you want to play that game with him, the challenge is accepted. I hope you know what you are getting yourself into because your pain is his pleasure.

Gasping and pretending to come down from your high, your body shook and trembled to display your orgasm washing over you. The soft moans that escaped your lips were still a sign of your lover’s cock thrusting deeper and moulding your insides. However, your lover who observed with judging eyes said nothing while you continued your performance. As a being of higher powe, it meant having proper control over his body, and Námo had no problem with showing you how skilled he was. Sighing, he easily gripped your hips, slid himself out to shuffle off the bed and stood at the foot of the bed. With confusion in your eyes, you whined at him, demanding that he returned to finish what he started. “Námo, come back! I still need you!”

It was a lesson to remember when he brought out his ropes, tied you up and then relieved himself before your eyes. He was silent the entire time, enjoying the whines and cries for him to release and continue fucking you. Turning his head to silence your complaining, his viridian eyes bored into your frustrated ones and arched a single brow. Peace had settled over the room which allowed him the time to freshen up and redress. The entire time, he passed up and down your tied-up figure without batting an eyelash and focusing on himself. You looked like a spectacle tied to the bedhead, immobilised. Finished dressing, Námo headed to the door, not before giving you a warning. “Since you didn’t want a real orgasm, you can stay like that and enjoy your time without one until I have finished my duties. Contemplate on your wrongs.”

༻¨*:·Melkor

One word, incapacitated. Seriously, don’t play with something he’s passionate about, but then again, this is all gameplay for him. Something like foreplay, so he’ll consider this a warmup for the real course. However, he still wouldn’t take it lightly because he’s putting effort and time into making you cum.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” his deep voice rumbled throughout the room and shook your very fёa. Eyes widened and form trembling, you realised the mistake you made by playing a dangerous prank on him. He wasn’t going to take ‘it was just a joke’ as an excuse for something he was persistent and dedicated to achieving. You were insulting him, an absolutely disgraceful act to commit. Your stutters and words were stuck in your throat when he leaned closer and hovered watchfully as his hips stilled their motion. Melkor waited patiently for some justification for your little stunt—being benevolent just for this one moment. “I’m…I’m sorry—” your apology was cut off, him not wanting to hear the rest of the excuse.

“Of course you are sorry. My little one would never fake an orgasm, huh? Isn’t that so? Yes…” His words were patronising but his hips that regained their momentum and now pistoned in and out your heat were diabolical. Your legs went into a frenzy and began trembling while your nails dug deeply into his biceps. Whimpers and squeaks flew past your lips and incoherent mumblings floated through the air. His laughter at your pathetic state, drool everywhere, eyes rolled into your head and head lulled, echoed deeply in your mind. It screamed at you to never attempt such a challenge again. “Get it in your head dollface, you accept what I give you with gratitude or you get nothing at all,” he whispered against your cheek before dipping his head to attach his lips to your neck. Before the night was over, Melkor had stolen orgasms and given you so many, your body was sent into overstimulation until you passed out.

༻¨*:·Eönwë

He really couldn’t believe that you would go to great lengths and refuse to inform him that he isn’t fucking your right. Like why couldn’t you just tell him he wasn’t doing something right? Was communicating so difficult?

Gripping the sheets for dear life, a sharp moan slipped past your lips when a firm hand came down on your ass, leaving it bright red. Your body was being tossed around like a ragdoll and there wasn’t anything you could do or say. All you had to do was lie there and take all the rough fucking that Eӧnwё was giving. You could feel the anger and pain in his grip and voice when he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Is this enough, or am I still not fucking you right? Hmm? Don’t run from me Y/N…” he growled when you arched from a powerful thrust he sent your way, sending your body jerking out of his hold. He was feral and his avian side was acting up at the fact that his mate was lying for a serious matter. “What’s the matter, can’t talk like earlier and tell me I’m fucking you right?!”

Your eyes rolled at the same time your head dropped into the mattress to hide your whimpers, but he wasn’t having any of that. His right hand reached out to snatch your hair and yank your head upwards so he could hear your cries. “Is this what you wanted?” you could hear the faint traces of his avian side slipping into the mix. If it did, you were in trouble. Eӧnwё’s avian side never took these things for granted, and you were sure from the rate his thrusts were developing, it was there. Pressing his body against yours, his left hand wedged itself between your legs to rub your clit, pinching the little nub and laughing at your pleas. “I’m feeling to deny you right now, but I want to fuck you senseless at the same time for using me. I bet you would love that, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t cum tonight while I get my fill.” Seems like his avian side was surely there and you weren’t getting any sleep.

༻¨*:·Tilion

He’s angry at himself for not being able to realise that he wasn’t pleasuring you right to the point you had to fake it, but…he isn’t entirely your himbo who’s going to cry in a corner about it. Tilion will take matters into his hand and make you remember to never pull that stunt again.

Looking up at his face when you decided to open your eyes after pretending to suffer the effects of an orgasm, Tilion’s eyes were sharp and narrowed. “You really think that after all these years of fucking this cunt, I won’t know what it feels like?” A hand had snaked its way up your body to wrap around your throat and apply pressure while the other came down to slap the inner of your thigh. His hips ceased their thrusting, and his cock stilled its movement in your cunt, though he could feel the desperation of your walls fighting to clamp around him. The little flexing of your muscles to retain what little pleasure you could find to satisfy your cunt caused him to look down and tauntingly laugh. “You want my cock so badly after your little stunt? Brats like you don’t deserve my cock or to cum.”

Flashing a look of apology and whining, you pleaded with him to have mercy and cried even moving when he slipped out. In a flash, you were on your knees with your ass high in the air and a loud smack echoed. You could barely comprehend the next round of actions since everything happened so quickly. The feeling of his weight pressing on top of you, immobilising you while driving his cock into your deeper was euphoric, but he found it better to deny you your orgasms. Refusing to rub your clit, and using your body to get himself off, he wanted to teach you a lesson. “Til-…Tilion please, let me c-cum!” He enjoyed listening to the sounds of your begging, the desperation in your cries, but he wasn’t giving in so easily. “Are you sure about that? You didn’t want to earlier. Be a good little girl and take what I give you.”

༻¨*:·Mairon

He’s gonna do the same thing as Námo and Irmo. You are really in for it and was simply setting yourself up for torture. You’re not going to be getting released because he’s evil like that.

You couldn’t say or do anything as you found yourself tied up and dangling from the chandelier in your shared chambers. Not too high off the ground, but just low enough for your toes to touch and fight to grip the carpet. The flaming red-headed Maia stood before you no longer naked but dressed in simple trousers and robes leaving him shirtless for you to marvel at his lithe physique. There was an increase in the room's temperature, more heated than anything leaving a sheen of sweat to coat your skin which Mairon took advantage of. Ice. He ran the light cube over your erogenous zones, close enough to gain whiny, high-pitched squeals and pleas from you. “Why should I stop? I’ve been wanting to experiment for a long time—I’ve found the perfect moment to practice. Don’t interrupt me!” he warned.

Clearly not pleased with your stunt earlier. Your orgasms were an art form he described to be perfection to the highest degree. Something that took care and time…and then you faked one before the eyes of a perfectionist. Nothing ever went without punishment, and what better way to punish you than to give you what you were demanding. “Don’t cry, you asked for this. If you had only been a good little doll for me, I would have spoiled you tonight… Now don’t squirm, I want to see how long you can take being denied before you learn your place.” His hands were chilled from gripping the ice and now running over the expanse of your skin, tickling, rubbing and touching everywhere far too light to relieve the ache. “Are you going to be good and let me have me way after your little stunt? Of course, you are, it’s the only way to cum.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @cilil @edensrose

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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year

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(not me being so quick to send a request, i cannot sleep right now) hi, kia! ꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ u know i had to kindly send in a request for my little meow meow — so, imagine: melkor’s vala!lover feeling his cold fingers touching her soft skin as he presses his lips on hers while she sleeps, which leads to both of them, you know, fucking ∗´ര ༝ ര`∗ and, well, melkor feeling his heart flutter and soar when he hears her whiny confession about how she loves him very much as she cums so prettily around him ˶•~•˶ i am soft, and if you do write it, tysm! take care! —🕊️

──── 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: AWWWW I'm a sucker for writing either merciless sadist dom Melkor or sleepy soft Melkor and no in between dhfgkdfag 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Melkor | Morgoth x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, sleepy sex, creampie

You had been stirred awake by cold lips pressed to your mouth and even colder fingers skimming across your exposed body. Oddly enough, one of your first thoughts upon waking was one that you had regularly: it was so very ironic for permanently burnt, blackened hands to be so cold – a part of you expected them to always hold the searing heat of the glittering jewels that had forever deformed them.

A sleepy moan slipped past your lips and was quickly swallowed by his mouth as you groggily reached up to cup his face in your hands, feeling the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones like the faces of the harsh mountains surrounding his home, your home. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake you like this and so, when the two of you finally pulled away, you brushed his hair back gently, tucking those sheets of midnight silk behind his pointed ears as you gazed up at him.

Your eyes were so beautiful to Melkor, especially when you gazed up at him like this. Your eyes were big, bright, kind and he could spend eternity wandering their depths.

“What’s wrong, hm?” You murmured as you leaned up just enough to peck the corner of his mouth. “You’re tense…” You pulled him down and turned your body so that his face was against your chest, your arms wrapping around him to play with his hair and slightly scratch your nails over his shoulder blades.

“It’s just been a long day of commanding production in the forges… We lost a lot of orcs in the last battle and now the armoury workers are falling behind. We cannot arrange a counter attack without the necessary provisions…” There was an edge to his voice by the end of his answer and you simply dipped your head down to press a kiss to his hairline before pulling him in tighter, wishing to soothe him with your embrace and grant him a break from the stresses of being the Dark Lord. You softly shushed him as you steadied out your breathing in the hopes that he would mirror you and relax some.

“Well you can worry about that in the morning, it’ll do you no good to keep on stressing in your own time now.” You assured him, “You’re an excellent leader and you have a brilliant lieutenant helping you out too… everything will be fine, dearest.” You assured him and were met with a groan in reply that you knew would be followed by a list of reasons as to why he was sure everything would not be fine. So, to curb said list of reasons, you distracted your lover with one of the best ways that you knew how.

Your hand on the back of his head that had been threading through his hair now pushed his face into your chest, your boobs pressed together with how you were laying on your side and any protest that he might have had was shut up when anything he tried to say was muffled within your cleavage. However he showed no signs of retaliation and instead wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer, tangling your legs as he let out a content moan into the plush skin of your breasts.

“Because there are better ways to spend your time than fretting, aren’t there?” You suggested with a seductive lilt to your tone and Melkor, in turn, squeezed you before you felt his lips begin to trail open-mouthed kisses across your plush flesh. You simply let out a pleased hum and buried your face in his hair as little shivers danced through your body to the sensation of his intimacy. You held him even closer and could feel the rumble of his laugh and some muffled words before you eased up your hold just a bit.

You were rolled onto your back, your nightshirt bunched up in his large hands and pushed to just beneath your breasts as his lips pressed earnestly to your sternum.

“And I suppose that smothering me is the better pastime?” He mused, pale grey eyes rolling up to meet your gaze.

“You didn’t seem too opposed.” You teased back and you could feel the curved smile upon his mouth as he kissed down your body, hands cupping your hips to coax you to lift them.

“Hm… I think I’d rather be smothered elsewhere right now…” Your hands flew down to tangle in his silken tresses when his mouth made its way between your legs and he wasted no time in lapping at your arousal as though it were a delicacy. He ate you like a man savouring the sweetest dessert right up until you felt yourself on the cusp on an orgasm and you pushed him away by the shoulder with a shaky palm.

“No, want…” Your chest rose and fell rapidly with your panted breaths as you tried to take in a breath deep enough to get your words out, “Want to come with you ‘nside me.” He let out a moan at your words, a proud smile on his slick-coated lips before he made a show of licking them clean.

His arm hooked beneath the arch of your spine to tug your body closer to his in one swift motion so that your chest was pressed to his and the sensation of your plush breasts pressed against him only sent heat further pooling beneath his belt that he was pulling open in impatient, jerky motions.

He wasted little time in sinking into you, slowly, observant of your facial expressions to ensure that he wasn’t hurting you. Melkor knew how to hit all of your sweet spots and so he wasted no time in grinding into your mushy cunt, repeatedly rubbing against a place that had you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body with your arms looping around his neck as your back arched up to press your chest against his.

“There you are, pretty…” He cooed once he heard the sweet moans you were muffling against his neck. You whined as he pulled out right to the swollen tip of his cock before crying out as he suddenly plunged right back into you. He then set up a slow but hard pace, groaning and sighing at the pleasurable sting of your nails in his back.

You let out the sweetest noises as his hands on your waist slid down to your hips, pausing briefly to squeeze them, before wandering further down to your thighs. He squeezed your soft flesh as though you were a being to be revered by all. You soon found your knees nearly on either side of your head and your head fell back against the bed as he could now reach even deeper into you and as you were still completely waking up, all you could think of was just how full you felt.

“M’kor…” You stuttered out his name between quick, panted breaths and increasing moans, one of your hands on his back gliding over his shoulder and to his jaw which you cupped in your palm, fingers tangled in his midnight hair so that you could pull him down into a messy kiss. “So good… so good to me.” He muffled a moan against your neck as your pussy squeezed around him tighter but you didn’t allow him to keep his noises quiet like that, instead swallowing all of his moans with desperate, clumsy kisses as your body seemed to tense up with the coil in your abdomen that was on the very verge of snapping. “Love you… I love you, I love you so much!” You rambled out as you came around his cock, keeping your legs locked around him so that he couldn’t pull out of you as his hips continued to piston against your in wet paps, your arousal and orgasm now slicking his abdomen. Oh how you made his hardened heart flutter when you said such sweet things while he pounded your little cunt.

You clung to him as though your life depended on it, fingers tugging on his hair as you felt the warmth of his load spilling into you, your legs trembling at the small rolls of his hips as he began to grind into your cum-filled cunt. The two of you were panting as he collapsed onto your body, peppering your neck in kisses as you buried your face in his dark hair, holding him close to your body.

After a few minutes of silence, you were the first to speak up: “Feeling better?”

“Much, my love.” He breathed out, resting his head upon your chest, “I love you.” He melted further into you at the sensation of your fingers gently detangling his hair, running over his scalp, “Oh, I love you…”

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me?∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@clumsycopy @edensrose @augustwithquills @involuntaryspasms @eunoiaastralwings @spidergirla5 @hiddenflowerx @singleteapot @noldorinpainter @cilil @yourfamilyfriendsatan @firagirl

#✎ kia’s 2k event ༉‧ ♡*.✧#🕊️ anon #melkor x reader smut #melkor smut #melkor x reader #melkor #morgoth smut #morgoth x reader smut #morgoth x reader #morgoth #silm x reader #silm smut #silmarillion smut #silmarillion #silmarillion x reader

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the-angband-confessional · 8 months

Note

Melkor: *sleeping peacefully on his throne*

Y/N: *stealthily sneaking up to him like a ninja and removing the silamrils* YOINK

*Runs faster than toupee in a hurricane*

The Vala opens his eyes when something topples over in the outer corridor. He reaches up to touch his crown.

"Not this again." Melkor sighs and waits for the inevitable high-pitched yelp. "I wonder how long it would take for y/n to drop the jewel this time."

#blossoms-of-darkness #the-angband-confessional #confessional-sfw #melkor #melkor x reader #silmarillion

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edensrose · 1 year

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Do you have any headcanons for Mairon and Melkor (separate) accidentally killing their s/o, bonus if they are human and they are just gone for eternity.

I just need some angst to function

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ mairon, melkor ( sep. ) ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. accidents happen, unfortunately, this is not something that the dark lords can ever fix ( death of reader ៸៸ blood mention ៸៸ war mention ៸៸ descriptions of death )

· ⊰ note. oh this was absolutely heart-clenching to write but I loved every second of it. hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏.

ʚ He never thought that his efforts to finish what his master, the former dark lord, had started would cost him his very heart. Perhaps he would have rathered that. His heart being ripped from his chest rather than the sight of your pupils dissipating and your eyes dulling, the scream that wrenched from your lungs and the way your body collapsed to the stone floor

ʚ Mairon was well aware that the power required to form the one ring would be immense and he was willing to sacrifice everything to ensure its creation. What he didn’t know was the one ring would not only drain him of his power — but yours as well. And unfortunately, you were not as powerful of a maia as he was.

ʚ Whilst he forged the final touches and encrypted those cursed phrases along its underside, he ignored your little peeps and soft calls of his name. When you told him that you had an easy feeling. In fact, he went as far as to tell you that you were simply overreacting

ʚ But it was only when he finally uttered the spell that would pour his power out into the ring that he realised the horrifying truth — your strength, the little power that remained within you would be snatched up as well. Despite his weakened state and trembling knees he tries to push himself to you, only just managing to get his arms around you when your legs had given out

ʚ Mairon was frantic, clinging to your quickly disappearing warmth as he watched the life drain from your eyes. He was desperate, muttering a horrified ‘no’ over and over again as he watched your life be taken by that damned ring. Even when you stared up at him with such soulless eyes, he could not bring himself to accept what he had done

ʚ “Y/N, no, please — please.’’

ʚ Had he truly lost you too? The last being that he had any sort of connection to? The last person who he felt anything for?

ʚ Mairon could do nothing but hunch over your form that day with a harrowing cry that tore through each and every crevice of Orodruin. He cradled you in his arms for hours, lips against your hair and promising that he would ensure your death was not in vain. Perhaps that’s what further drove him to accomplish his goal

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓.

ʚ It was a fit of rage. One he couldn’t quite overcome. But when he finally pulled himself from the storm of rage that clouded his eyes and he now witnessed a familiar crimson on his palms — his claws. Not to mention the look of utter horror on your face before you fell into him, a hole torn through your clothing just as one had been ripped through your very chest. He knew that there was no going back

ʚ Melkor always considered himself to be slow to anger. While he does seem to have quite the temper, the majority of the time it is quite the act. He pretends to exude anger so that he frightens those before him. But to genuinely drive the dark lord to anger is a fool’s ploy. Nor has he ever genuinely been angry at you. Perhaps irritated or possessive, but never rageful towards you. And even the incident of your death was not brought on due to the anger he held for you

ʚ It was during the war of wrath, towards the end of it. Melkor was well aware that his army outside the iron barriers of Angband was quickly depleting, that his defeat was nigh. What wasn’t helping his already gruelling mood was your worry. Of course, you were anxious. Should the Valinor’s Host succeed you knew that your lover would be dragged off and flung into the void. There would be no more trials, no more appeals, he would be gone forever. Which is the very reason you attempted to coax him into admitting defeat, in hopes that the valar would take mercy on him should he show remorse for his actions

ʚ It seems that it was all it took for him to lose it and before you knew it a cry tore from your throat, just as his clawed hand tore through your chest and impaled your heart. You looked up to see the storm in his eyes and the look of hatred on his face. You couldn’t even process what it was that he shouted at you, only that you would die here. With not so much as a gentle embrace but rather a look of utter hostility

ʚ When Melkor eventually came to, he foolishly ripped his hand back out in shock — causing blood to gush from your wound further as you fell forward onto him. He was in shock, to say the least, as he held you. The music stopped, the dissonant tune that was associated with his presence. Everything went silent, deafening. He could say no words. He could shed no tears. Instead, he merely felt your warmth fade and listen to the beat of your wounded heart come to a standstill

ʚ When the host tore through Angband, all they found was Melkor on his throne. Without his crown, without the prideful stature, he wore like a medal. All they found was a broken vala clinging onto the lifeless body of his beloved.

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#— ꒰🌺꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐬 ៸៸ tolkien ❜‧₊#mairon #mairon x reader #sauron #sauron x reader #melkor #melkor x reader #morgoth #morgoth x reader #the silmarilion #silm #tolkien #tw death #angst #ainur #valar #maiar #headcanons #writing

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yandere-ainur-confessions · 1 year

Note

Here to show my support cuz I LOVE dark stuff and the creators who have the balls to create it <3 So without further ado;

FUCK ME UP, MELKOR!!! <3 <3 <3

(male reader and the darker the better, don't let something as silly as death stop my favorite dark lord from having his fun >:3)

❪ ♡ ❫ ── 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒕 , dark themes ៸៸ torture ៸៸ possessive behaviour ៸៸ manipulation ៸៸ death ( always a pleasure with your asks<3 )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

♡. you have always been the object of melkor's desire. as a maia of varda, you knew that his interest stemmed from not only wishing to covet the true power of the stars, but also corrupt something pure

♡. he tried wooing you at first. tempting you to the other side in hopes that you would reign alongside him. and when you refused? he took matters into his own hands and stole you right from valinor

♡. he loved how naive and innocent you were. frightened at what he might do to you — but it also angered him. could you not see that you held his favour over any other being in arda? he found you ungrateful, and thus you must be punished

♡. every time you resisted both his love and superiority he would ensure to engrave it into your mind why he was the only being you should care about. endless torture sessions in which he quite literally burned his very being into you. mark after mark, scar after scar

♡. would actually take it upon himself to take care of you directly after. no matter how bloodied or bruised you were. melkor wanted to give you whiplash — to see that he really was the only one you could rely on. luring you into a false sense of security to show you how much he cared

♡. makes you stand in front of the mirror. tracing his fingers along every scar and making you recount why you earned it. or thank him for marking your skin. even though you 'didn't deserve his touch'

♡. you would be treated as a pet for years to come. unable to do a thing unless he permitted it. suffering at his hand for each and every transgression. he'd even get you a collar with a chain if he was bored. he adored seeing you absolutely reliant on him

♡. you were his beautiful pet. and his alone. on your knees beside him while he sat on his throne. satisfying his every need. every time a passerby got close, he'd grab your hair — press his lips to yours. make out with you messily or bite down onto your lip so that he could make you bleed

♡. he'd always make sure to remind you of your insignificance. 'if you were really important to them, wouldn't they have found you by now?'

♡. the final straw was when you attempted to escape. melkor took your life that day, albeit unintentionally. yet even in death, you would find no peace. he'd place a spell over your body that kept you from rotting and pull you around like a puppet on a string. desecrating your fána even whilst your fëa had long escaped. keeping you in his clutches for all eternity

#·⊰ ꒰🥀꒱ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 ៸៸ melkor ─ ♡#melkor x reader #melkor #morgoth #silm #the silmarillion #tolkien #ainur #valar #tw yandere #tw dark content #yandere #dark themes #possessive behavior #torture #tw: torture #death #tw: death #imagines

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 2 years

Text

ʚ Pairing: Melkor x Fem. Reader

ʚ Summary : You were taken as a prisoner of war after you left your father’s camp. You’re treated well, but you complain about your captor, and he hears of it. You’re taken to him, and you finally see him for the first time since your capture.

ʚ Themes: Soft | Slow burn | Smut

Minors DNI

The gale had hit the land without warning.

Wind and water hammered at stone like an angry beast, as if demanding entry. You peeked through the bars of your window. The world outside was all slate grey mist and curtains of rain, the sheer gloominess of it all broken by bright flashes of lightning. You looked about your room again.

A pitiful fire burned in the hearth, the air around you cold and damp. The stone windows had been cannily cut, letting in the fresh air, but no rain. It was a blessing, you thought. Bad enough you were held captive in this dreary place, you didn’t need a rain-washed room on top of everything else.

The door being thrown open made you jump out of your skin. “The master orders your presence.” One of your orc jailors comes forth and slaps on a pair of shackles around your wrists. A thick chain connected to it, allowing them to keep a safe distance from prisoners. “Come.”

You sighed, and your shoulders drooped. You knew why he wanted to see you.

During the past few days of your captivity, you had complained about your captor, insulting him at every turn. One of his minions had clearly heard and now you were neck-deep in trouble.

There was a tug on the chain. Your jailors were quite impatient to get going. “Come along, we haven’t got all day!”

“Oh all right,” you mutter and shuffle your feet.

The walk was long, and tiring, taking you through one gloomy corridor over to the next. The passageways were dark, and even the torches proved to be of little use. What is this stone, you muse, as you follow along. The walls were made of a black stone, polished to a high sheen. They seemed to absorb the very light around them, making everything gloomier than it was.

It certainly suits him well enough.

There was another tug on the chain. “Hurry up!”

What kind of trouble have I gotten myself into now?

You’re made to walk until all of you stop in front of doors as black as the walls surrounding it, and more than twice the height of the tallest elf you had seen. Impressive, you think, as your eyes drift upwards, to the high, vaulted ceilings, barely visible in the torchlight. You catch signs of what looked like intricate scrollwork.

I wonder what this place would look like with moonlight streaming in through the windows. Or sunlight. Does he tolerate sunlight?

The doors were pulled back with barely a sound. One of the orcs looked back to see where you were. “Come along now! The master hasn’t got all day!”

“Fine,” you mutter, and follow them to what was starting to look like a throne room. A thick carpet ran under your feet, muffling your footsteps. There were more torches, their light somewhat succeeding in pushing back the darkness. You thought you would be taken right up to the throne, but the orcs made a sudden turn to the right, to a passageway leading beyond the throne room.

Where are they taking me?

This time the walk didn’t talk nearly as long, and the rooms you were shown into were airier and had more light.

And that was when you felt, more than saw him. A sense of gathering darkness, the sudden chill in the air. One of the orcs stepped forward, bowed, and said, “The prisoner, my lord.”

“Bring her closer.”

His voice was rich, like a deep red wine, and sweet, like honey. You shook your head in disbelief. This cannot be possible.

You were taken into another room, this time a large parlour of sorts. The fire that burned here was bright and warm, with a heavy brocade, high-back sofa pulled in front of it. You heard wood creaking, of leather crinkling, as if someone had just moved. He’s here. Seated on that sofa.

“Unshackle her,” came the order, sharp and quick. “And leave us. We’re not to be disturbed.”

You gulped as the orcs looked almost apologetic when they released you. They scurried away quickly enough, probably to get out of the line of fire.

Lucky bastards.

He only waited till the door to his rooms was shut. “Come here.”

You take a few inches forward.

“Here.” A gloved finger tapped the right armrest. “And do not make me repeat myself.”

I’mdoomedI’mdoomedI’mdoomedI’mdoomed.

The words echoed again and again.

You steel yourself, raise your head high, and walk right up to the sofa, flinching a little when the sofa creaked again. This time, he had stretched his legs, his eyes never leaving the fire. “So.” He waited till you stopped right by him, your eyes facing forward, not wanting to take in what was sure to be a withered and disfigured countenance. “You’re our prisoner.”

“Yes,” you quickly correct yourself when you heard a sharp cough. “My lord.”

“And you have been complaining. About me. And very colourful, I might add.” You kept your eyes forward, although the scent coming off of him made it next to impossible to do so. Night phlox in full bloom, you thought immediately. Night phlox, your favourite flower.

You shook your head again. No. This cannot be possible.

“My orcs tell me your words could make the most hardened corsair blush. Naturally, I needed to know the cause for such ire.” He leaned forward, to get a better look at you. You kept your gaze on the fire the entire time.

“Look at me, pet.”

Pet? He calls me pet? Fury took over you. Fury threatened to boil over, made you want to grab the nearest weapon and lunge at him, to try and kill him. Even if you failed, you could still go down in a blaze of glory.

Then you rest your eyes on him. Fury vanished as quickly as it came, while you struggled to stop yourself from gaping.

The very shock of his beauty took your breath away. His skin glowed and his hair was as black as a raven’s wing. His eyes were black to the centre, with gold irises that gleamed and radiated power. You expected someone repulsive and vile, yet here he was, tall and strapping, sharp-jawed and fairer than any creature you had ever beheld. A hum escaped your throat.

This is him? The one they all call Melkor?

Melkor leaned back into the sofa, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Tell me, pet. What is it about me that displeases you so?"

"You’re keeping me prisoner here. Is that not enough of a reason?" You lower your gaze and stop yourself from gawking. What was it about that devilish smirk that made your heart race? "I want to go home."

"Send you home? And why must I do that?" Melkor murmured as he went back to looking at the fire, his smirk slowly growing into a grin. "You are a prisoner of war, and it is custom to keep hostages till a suitable ransom has been paid. That is what your kind does, yes?"

He had you there. "Yes, mortals do keep captives hostage, but--"

“Then how am I any different?” He said. “And I have treated you well, yes?”

“Yes, but--”

“Then you will stay here until your lord father has paid your ransom. If he pays, that is.”

“No, I will--”

“Arguing is useless, pet.” He folded his arms behind his head and studied you. “You are my prisoner, and you must do as I bid.”

You narrowed your eyes to slits, while he simply arched an elegant eyebrow and smirked. “Do not fear, my pet.” Melkor crooned, his eyes on you the entire time. “I will not bite, not unless you want me to, that is.”

“Bite me?” You squeak. “I would want you to bite me?”

“Why yes.” Melkor crooned again, his eyes closed, his mind going over the memories of you getting off your horse, your cheeks flushed from the long and dusty ride to his fortress. By all rights, he should have just dismissed your presence, and yet, the sight of you in the courtyard, breathless and nervous, more than just a tad angry, roused his curiosity, made his skin warm, made him want. Seeing you being taken on rounds around the fortress courtyard didn’t help matters. It made him want a great deal, kept him up at night, and plague him with dreams of you. Dreams that left him breathless and wanting more than just the fantasies of his mind.

Melkor gave nothing away. He kept his tone perfectly calm, not wanting to do anything rash and scare you off. “I hear some people like it being done to them when sharing pleasures.”

Now your cheeks burned. Why did it thrill you, to hear him talk of pleasures?

Wait, can he even feel pleasure?

“I can feel pleasure, pet,” Melkor said quietly, making you jump, and curse yourself. What was supposed to have been just a thought was said out loud enough for him to hear. “And in many ways.” He turned to you, eyes locked on yours the entire time. He slipped off his gloves and tossed them to the side. “I could show you now if you like.”

Your cheeks burned again, and this time they turned several shades of red. You catch Melkor’s eyes going over your body before they flicked back up to yours. He was incapable of feeling passion and desire, all the myths and tales said so, but that look in his eyes… it left you a little breathless. Goosebumps spread over your arms when a large hand reached out and velvet-like fingers traced their way down your own. Melkor’s touch should have felt like ice, but it was warm instead. Visions filled your head, parts nightmare, parts dream. The nightmare was of him using that hand of his to strangle you, to make you beg for your life. The dream was of him using that same hand to make you beg for other things while he hovered over you. His fingers laced around yours, his thumb brushing over your skin. You felt a flush of heat and trembled when dream beat back nightmare.

You flushed again, this time when a drop of pleasure took root. It must have shown on your face, for Melkor tightened his grip and made your breath hitch. "My lap." He ordered. “Pet.

You squirm, unsure if you should comply or not. "Go on," he ordered again, gently this time.

You find yourself wanting to say yes. Instead, you force yourself to refuse with, "No."

He grinned. "Are you sure, pet?"

The opposite of it. You wanted to say yes to him, to a fallen Vala. It would be scandalous if word got out. You would not hear the end of it when you got home. You would be ostracized for even associating with one such as him, and still, the need for him grew.

When I go home. You hummed when his eyes drifted over your body again, drinking you in, leaving you weak and spellbound. Wait. Do I even want to go home?

You quickly lowered your gaze and shook your head. No. He will not see it. He will not see it.

He did see it, just before you looked away. "Aww," he crooned again. "Are you positive, pet?"

Why did he keep calling you pet? And why did you like it so? Then there was that dream again, of him putting his hand to better use. You wanted to say, No. What you end up saying was, "Yes."

“Your lips say one thing, my pet, but your eyes say something else.” Melkor chuckled. “As does that ragged breathing of yours.” You winced, utterly embarrassed with yourself, at your body for giving yourself away. "On my lap, pet." There was a gentle tug on your hand. "You know you want to."

That drop of pleasure only grew. Comply you finally did, and very willingly. Melkor groaned when you straddled him and made yourself comfortable. The need to make his night-time fantasies a reality grew stronger with each passing second. "Is this what you wanted?" You asked haltingly, your eyes skimming over his chest plate, all ornately decorated and broad. Was the body beneath it as broad as well?

While one hand rested on your waist, the other found its way to your hair. "Not exactly," Melkor groaned again when you squirmed to make yourself more comfortable. He could already feel his trousers straining, his pulse racing. Lust was hammering away at him and he had to get things going, and quickly. Despite his order, someone could still barge in at a moment’s notice. "But it is a start."

A start? Why would he say such a-- That’s when you felt it. His cock was already hard. You licked your lips, anticipation building up inside you. "A start to what, my lord?"

Melkor simply smiled and twirled his fingers through your hair, the gold of his irises gleaming even more now. "You will see, pet. But first, my armour has to go. It will only get in the way."

Undoing the straps and cords was easy. Taking off his armguards was easy, but removing the chest plate itself was not. It felt like it weighed a ton, but when Melkor took over, he made it look like it was about as heavy as a feather. The under-tunic was next, leaving his chest bare. "Do you like what you see?" He asked.

His chest was as broad as you thought it would be, and he was right.

You very much liked what you saw. His was a body without flaw, his muscles sculpted, their perfection broken only by the strange yet beautiful symbols and ancient texts all over his skin. You think to yourself, This one has Vala written all over him.

Your cheeks flushed again, much to Melkor’s delight. "It is quite enchanting," he murmured slowly. "The way you blush. I should find ways to make it happen more often."

What’s going on? This was Melkor talking like this? It was all very unseemly, and you grew suspicious. "Is this a trick, my lord?"

He chuckled and shook his head, one arm sneaking around your waist while the other gripped your chin. Melkor wasn’t playing games. He wanted you. "No tricks pet. Especially this."

He pulled you in, kissing you hard on the lips and drawing out a soft purr. His kisses were sweet and exuberant, his mouth was one to savour. Pleasure hummed in your throat when his tongue licked past your parted lips. Feeling your very breath being sucked right out of you made you dizzy, and you braced yourself against his chest to keep steady. His own breath came out warm and felt so sweet. When your hands splayed over his skin, Melkor growled into his kiss, his hands going to the hem of your skirt to hike it up.

A blast of cold air against your exposed thighs made you shiver. "Here." He leaned to the side and picked up his mantle, throwing it over your shoulders to keep you warm. It was of thick velvet, and nothing in the world felt finer to you. You didn’t have time to thank him as he crushed your lips with his again, making you whimper when his fingers raked their way up your thigh. Your skin felt soft to him and his hand went up higher, not stopping until he reached your undergarments, tearing them easily so he could feel your slick heat. "Already wet for me." He chuckled breathily, his grin growing when he heard a soft cry while he played with your wet clit. When you moaned and ground yourself into his hand, he grunted and pushed a finger inside, going as deep as he could, and then--

"I am not your first, am I?"

Your trysts with a stable hand in your father’s employ, one you knew would keep your secrets. Well, your secrets were out now. “You’re not.” You mumble and stare into your lap. “I-I hope you’re not disappointed.”

Melkor simply shook his head. “I’m not disappointed. Not in the least.” He relished your gasps as he kept thrusting, his finger hitting a sweet spot of yours, again and again. "Come here."

Every time you moaned, every time you asked for more, Melkor would croon, “That’s it my pet, beg for it,” and not let up until he felt your walls clench and tighten around his finger. Your thighs trembled as you met his thrusts halfway, earning a growl of approval from him. You could feel your muscles coiling, your world growing hazy. Melkor was far from satisfied. His body craved more. You whined when he pulled his finger out and wiped it against his cloak. "My trousers," he said and bit your lower lip, making sure to leave it swollen and bruised. "Undo it, pet. Now."

His belt came apart easily enough, and you quickly undid the clasps, pulling at the material frantically and reaching inside. When you stroked and caressed his cock, his hips rose slightly and his breathing became shaky and frantic, his head rolling back, his mouth half-open, moaning deeply when you found a rhythm he liked. You felt like you were throbbing between your thighs. Lust got the better of you and you moved again, this time not stopping till his cock was inside of you. Wanting to feel the warmth of your cunt, Melkor gripped onto your hips and plunged hard, something that made you cry out and arch your back. He scrambled to pull your hair to one side, his teeth mouth latching onto the soft flesh of your neck. Melkor didn’t wait this time. He started with quick, shallow thrusts, his teeth scraping over delicate skin every time you moaned and pulled on his thick black hair. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. It felt like you were gazing at molten gold against black velvet. "Did that pathetic male make you feel like this, hmm, pet?" A flash of jealousy washed over him. Melkor had a problem with sharing, and he didn’t want to share you with anyone else, not even in memory. "All hot and wet and needy?"

Every time his teeth scraped over the crook of your neck, your tugs on his hair grew rougher, which encouraged him even more. "No, my lord," you choked, trying to hold on for as long as you could. You wanted to cum at the same time he did. "He didn’t make me feel like this."

He ran his tongue over bruised skin, taking in the beads of sweat that had formed along the way before nipping again. "Did he fuck you like this, pet?" He mumbled against your neck. "Take you to the point where you could forget your own name?"

Not even close. "He didn’t.” you purred when his thrusts deepened, leaving you empty one second and so full the next. Your breath came out in shallow pants every time he filled you. “He never could."

"Good." Melkor hummed when you moaned when he found that sweet spot again. "Your moans are like music to my ears, pet," he whispered and bit on the crook of your neck. "Please let me hear more."

You stopped caring at this point. Every time his hips slammed into you, every time his cock hit that spot deep within you, you cried out, your muscles tightening like a coil with each passing second. When your chest pressed against his, he slammed into you harder, and faster, sending shockwave after shockwave over you, sending you tumbling over the edge. Your body went still for the briefest of moments before it splintered completely. Your cries echoed through the room while he continued to fuck you. Melkor didn’t stop until he felt his cock throb and tense inside you. With a deep grunt, he thrust one final time before his body snapped, and his seed spilt out into your cunt. He refused to let go until he was completely spent.

You could feel his breath on your shoulder. You became aware of soft kisses gliding over your skin. "My pet," he tilted your chin and pressed his lips to yours. This time there was tenderness and warmth, instead of just raw passion. “Do you still want to go home?”

“But I’m your prisoner,” you say. It was the truth. Despite what just happened, you were still a prisoner of Utumno.

He made an offer he would never give to anyone else, not unless Eru forced him to do. “What if you’re no longer a prisoner, my pet, what then? Will you still stay here and be my companion?”

His companion. No Vala, not even him, could make such an offer and take it back. If he swore the oath, he’d be bound to you. “Swear it,” you insist. If you were going to stay, it would have to be worth your while. “Swear the oath, and I will stay.”

Melkor went quiet, and you thought he’d changed his mind, just like you suspected he would.

He then surprised you with what he did next.

With one of his own fingernails, he scraped an X right over his heart, said the words. The scar gleamed for a second, then faded into a thin pink line. “So, little pet,” He looked at you again, hopeful this time. “Will you stay?”

You gave him his answer. Melkor was pleased. “Now, go get in bed,” he gestured to a room to your right. “I’m not done with you as yet.”

#melkor #melkor smut #melkor x reader #melkor imagine #LOTR #the silmarillion #fanfiction #creative writing #writing #writeblr #am writing #a world of whimsy writes #smut-tober #morgoth #morgoth smut #morgoth x reader #kinktober

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