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cilil · 1 year

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Chandelier

AN: A gift for my darling @edensrose, inspired by another fun discussion on our server🖤

Characters/relationships: Námo/femMaia!Reader Synopsis: Námo ties you to a chandelier and tests how well-behaved you are. Featuring: BDSM, dom!Námo, light bondage, wax play Oneshot (~1k) PWP/smut, minors DNI

"Hold still."

The calm authority of Námo's voice sends a warm shiver down your spine, yet you do your best to follow his command. After all, your lord has made it very clear that you will only receive your reward if you behave; and you know how strict he can be.

Your wrists are bound over your head and chained to a chandelier, every movement causing a small symphony of metallic clinking and tinkling sounds, and you are completely naked, your robes pooling around your feet.

Obedient as always, you disrobed when he told you to and patiently waited for him to tie you up and secure the chains. Now you are looking up to him through your eyelashes, silently pleading him to touch you.

Námo is wearing a dressing gown made of black silk with silver ornaments, loosely tied together with a sash around his waist, and his hair is open, flowing down his back and shoulder like a river of night. His face isn't covered by a hood or a veil and his viridian eyes study you impassively as he beholds your nude form.

"Beautiful," he says and caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

"Will you touch me... sir?" you ask, lowering your gaze to show respect.

"Perhaps."

Námo reaches for the chandelier and picks up one of the candles, as if plucking a flower from a bouquet. He inspects it for a while before turning his attention back to you, only the faintest hint of a smile on his pale lips.

"Will you be a good girl for me?"

"Yes my lord," you reply. You don't know what he's planning to do to you yet, and the thought causes a pleasant mixture of excitement and nervousness to warm your fána.

"Excellent."

The Vala's mien is unreadable as always, but his smile widens a little.

"I know you will, dear."

He meticulously collects every stray strand of your hair and tucks them behind your ears before bringing the candle closer to you.

"I want you to keep standing still while I play with you. Can you do that for me?"

You swallow. "Of course, sir."

Námo trails his free hand down your torso, letting out a small chuckle.

"It will be in your best interest as well. After all, if you move around too much you will only make it worse..."

At first you don't understand what he means, yet it becomes clear to you as soon as he tilts the candle just enough for a single drop of wax to land on your chest. You flinch, though more out of reflex than because of any pain; the wax is hot, but pleasantly so, not hot enough to burn your skin. It leaves an exciting sort of heat in its wake, sending shivers down your spine.

"Relax, dear. The more you struggle, the longer it will take," Námo says and you glance up at the chandelier, realizing that he has a lot of candles at his disposal in case he chooses to toy with you for an extended amount of time.

He proceeds to slowly drip more and more wax onto your upper body, like an artist painting on a new canvas. Your fána twitches whenever a droplet hits your skin and leaves small trails of warmth. Unfortunately for you, the Vala is merciless, completely unimpressed by your helpless little gasps and moans, and continues until he seems his work to be complete.

Looking down, you can see thin strings of wax covering you like a frozen spider web, its pattern resembling a lotus flower. One of his symbols. A claim of ownership. Your heart flutters.

"You did well, darling," Námo praises and puts the candle back into the chandelier before leaning in to kiss you.

His hand dips between your legs, and his lips muffle your gasp of surprise when two fingers push inside you. You are ready for him, wet and aching to be touched after waiting to receive his attention for so long. The sensation is intense, both your skin and your insides feeling you're heated, melting under the Vala's careful ministrations, yet Námo's touch is cool, almost soothing. He fingers you with calm expertise, delighting in your noises of pleasure and how you squirm and tremble in his arms.

"You would like a reward, hm?" he asks between kisses.

"Y-yes, please–"

"Please what?"

"Please, sir."

"Good girl."

Námo withdraws his fingers and breaks the kiss, leaving you empty and wanting. You whine in protest, prompting him to shush you by placing his index finger on your lips before slowly and deliberately kneeling down in front of you. His hands take hold of your thighs and he looks up at you with a strict, yet loving expression.

"Your task remains the same. If you move around too much I will stop," he warns.

"Mmh... yes–"

You barely have enough time to answer before he kisses your lower lips, swollen and dripping with arousal, and you realize holding still will be rather difficult. His tongue finds your clit and chains rattle despite your best efforts, causing the Vala to stop moving until you regain control of your writhing fána.

It is as if Námo knows you better than you know yourself, knows exactly what he has to do and how to make you melt in his capable hands and submit to him. Perhaps he's already seen through you, you think while you are trying to control yourself and fulfill your task to the best of your ability.

You almost wish to have your hands free so you could touch your lord, run your hand through his silky hair and bring him closer to you, hold on to him while his divine tongue drives you insane–

Námo is relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, his tongue tormenting your little pearl without mercy, and you receive a few warning slaps on your thigh whenever you struggle too much or make too much noise. The game continues until you can't take it anymore and cum with a soft cry, your juices dripping all over his lips.

He rises to his feet as dignified and elegant as ever and licks himself clean.

"Well done, dear," he praises and rewards you with another quick kiss.

"Will you take me now, my lord?" you can't help asking, looking up at him with pleading eyes, yet Námo merely chuckles in response.

"Maybe next time–if you behave, that is."

#namo #námo #namo mandos #namo x reader #x reader #reader insert #silmarillion #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion fanfiction #ainur #valar #tolkien #cílil writes #my writing

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daywillcomeagain · 5 years

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Sixteen, thirteen, twenty nine?

16. What do you think of Fingolfin going to attack Melkor?

I think it was… something between brave and suicidal. I think it was a beautiful last stand, and I think that it’s a really clear example of a lot of my thoughts and feelings on martyrdom. He could never have succeeded, and he had to have known that. But… that’s not really the point, to me? From the moment the Doom of Mandos is set, all the Noldor have to know on some level that they cannot succeed. But they go on anyway–the deeds that we do shall be the matter of song, and all that. And Fingolfin’s last stand… it certainly is the matter of song, you know? It’s epic and great and heroic in this really intense way, and while of course it doesn’t succeed, it proves that the enemy is not invincible. And that’s a hope that was… probably sorely needed, after almost 500 years of war.

13. A character you don’t like and why.

I’ve talked about this before, but: Mandos/Námo. The reason why is basically “have you read LaCE”, but to get more specific: the fact that it is deemed inherently evil to not want to submit to him (even though lots of those who refuse his summons are explicitly stated to be Avari who are afraid of the Valar!); the vaguely mind-control-y vibes of “Because those who have been under the correction of Mandos will not speak of it, and indeed, being healed, remember little of it”; his ruling that nobody can have two living spouses; “it was held that the refusal to return to life, after repose in Mandos, was a fault”… and the fact that this is all portrayed as correct and good to a point where many of the fans see no issue with this. Like… idk maybe this is the psychiatric trauma talking but no thank you, I do not want to have my mind corrected and all my memories of being suicidal (or otherwise ~sinful~ from the perspective of Tolkien/Mandos) removed on the basis of it being “unnatural and perverted”.

Also, the Doom of the Noldor. To declare that you will not show them the slightest bit of sympathy even if every single person they have ever wronged begs you to, that even those who did not participate in the kinslayings (or even those who aren’t born yet and so obviously cannot have done anything wrong) are banned from ever returning to their ancestral home, and that you will not even give them the kindness of listening to the faintest echo of their screams… The reason I like Nienna (and Gandalf, who is–not a coincidence–her maia) is because she has empathy and pity and compassion for everyone (see also: “it was pity that stayed Bilbo’s hand”). The Doom takes that whole concept of mercy and spits on it. Lots of it is later reversed–in the pardon of Galadriel, for example–but I’d be willing to bet that it wasn’t Mandos that did that reversing.

(Seriously, fuck Mandos.)

29. If you were an elf in Middle-earth after the War of Wrath would you sail immediately to Valinor or wait a little more in Middle-earth?

I like to think I would wait in Middle-Earth. I’m, uh, a little unimpressed with the Valar (see previous answer) and there would be a lot more work that needed doing in Middle-Earth than in the blissful paradise of Aman. If my friends were still alive, I think I would be able to stick to that!

But… if my friends had died and were reborn in Valinor, I would want to see them again, after having grieved for them. And as much as I like to think I would want to do work to help a flawed word, “paradise where you don’t have to do work” is genuinely tempting. It also probably depends on whether I was Calaquendi or Moriquendi–I think I’d want to be able to see my home, which could go either way. So… I don’t know. It depends a lot on my circumstances.

I would probably wait at least a little, though, to make up my mind: if I decided to stay, even as late as the Fourth Age I could end up changing my mind and deciding to go to Valinor, but as soon as I step foot on Valinor… That’s permanent. I can’t change my mind anymore. So I’d have to be absolutely sure before I left.

ask meme here, feel free to send me numbers!

#shut up þornwë #and death was his reward #deserve has nothing to do with it #Anonymous

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