#first request for maglor

[eunoiaastralwings]

Hello 👋 and good day. Congratulations on your 100 followers 🎉🥳.

May I request a Maglor x reader fic? Something a bit angsty where reader is contemplating on leaving him because they don't see a future with him focusing on the oath? Maglor is in a state of understanding the reader, but he also doesn't want to let then go. You can choose how it ends if you choose to write it. - either reader stays or Maglor let's them leave.

Thanks you in advance 🥰😁🙏 - @doodle-pops

featuring maglor x reader

fandom tolkien- the silmarillion

a/n thank you so much hun! good day! I hope you like this

warnings angst

“I have sworn to the oath. . .”

You didn’t know what to say when Maglor— you beloved ellon said this.

For a moment you felt yourself swaying and he quickly wrapped you safely in his arms.

He whispered soft nothings— sweet, beautiful and enchanting words.

Maglor always used the right words and his words grounded you.

But right then, you didn’t want to face him and when you retired to your chambers Maglor didn’t stop you— nor did he follow.

He was being respectful— something you always admired about him. 

Maglor let went beyond words and soft kisses if you were uncomfortable.

The ellon also maintained a small sufficient space between himself and you if needed.

But right now the longer you spend alone the faster your thoughts spiralled like a sandstorm.

Maglor swore himself to the oath— the oath of Feanor — his father.

A part of you understood— but the other part you wanted to hate Maglor for this.

But even then you knew— it was impossible for you to hate that musical ellon.

You felt hurt and betrayed.

He chose the oath over every thing you had dreamed of together— the future—getting married— the little adventures alongside each other.

Maglor had promised you would move to somewhere it vast fields— where you would lie on the ground together as he played his harp or sang softly to only you.

A world where just the two of you would be concerned.

Was that future now reachable? 

Didn’t you not deserve a future where your beloved would choose you over anything or anyone?

But did Maglor suddenly change himself— change from caring and romantic ellon you loved just for three little gems?

Didn’t you not mean more to him?

How could he swear under the name of Ilúvatar that himself, his father and brother would not rest until the three Silmarils were in their hands again— and cast aside your dreams.

You deserved better than that.

There was no future for you here— not anymore.

You had to leave— before your heart caught up with your thoughts.

Just as you stood up the door to your chambers opened after a light knock.

Your eyes locked with his deep blue eyes— that hint of grey in them too.

“Melda. . .”

He said and pulled at the strings of your heart— beating it to the way he wanted.

When Maglor crossed the distance between you and softly held your hand a shaky breath left you.

You should have been he would come looking for you sooner or later— because even though there was a distance he would sneak himself beside you and wrap his arm around your waist.

“Will you not speak with me?”

He asked when he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on.

You sighed and shut your eyes.

“I can’t do this. . . you— you chose those 3 gems over me? Over us? Do I really mean that little to you?”

He froze with his lips still lingering on the soft skin of your hand.

You forcefully pulled your hand away from his hold.

The look of ache that flashed over his beautiful eyes broke your heart.

“Can’t you see, Maglor? There’s no future for us anymore! You put your father’s silmarils in between us— you cut us off!”

You started to cry— tears streaming down your face like a waterfall as you spoke to the ellon you loved and treasured.

“I can’t— there’s no future for us so what am I to do? I deserve better than this!”

When you said those words Maglor had snapped his eyes shut and looked away— he felt his heart crack under the weight of it all.

So this is how his mother felt— like something invisible was slicing through his chest and stabbing his heart over and over again.

Oh, how he desperately wanted to yell no and pull you into an embrace.

You were his light— his safe haven— his joy— you were the harmony to his every song.

You sobbed and tried to meet eyes with him.

“Will you not fight for me?”

You whimpered.

“I cannot force you to stay with me, Y/N. . . but— but if I ask you to stay, will you?”

You rested your forehead against his.

“I really want to Maglor. . . but how can I blindly stay with you when there’s no future for us?”

With those words, you left a final kiss on his lips and slipped away— drowning him in loneliness forever.

tara's taglist: @middleearthsweetheart

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

@i-did-not-mean-to fuck safe me! — her favorite silm character is maglor and I wrote angst! Keep Shalini away— she will murder me lmfaooo

#maglor x reader #maglor #feanorians #the silm #the silmarillion #maglor angst #tears #heartbreak #eunoiawrites #answered #first request for maglor #the poor baby— I hurt him #bit personal in some standards

[doodle-pops]

Think You Can Warm Me Up

[Elves and Cockwarming x reader]

Request: What elves do you think would like cock-warming? - anon

A/N: This was a lot of elves to think for since I've added more over the months gone by. Enjoy!!!

Warning: smut, cockwarming

More: Brat Taming

Loves it – sometimes when they’re too busy to have sex with you but you want to feel them, they’ll suggest you sit on their lap, only to feel them raising your body slightly to slide themselves into you. When you lift your hips to move, their hands will be planted firmly on your waist with a stern look on their faces warning you to stay still. They’ll keep their hands on your waist, using it to pull you closer to rest against their chest and hold you down. Some use it for punishment when your bratty side comes out. They’ll rile you up by making out with you, having you grind on them feeling as though you two are about to have sex, but then when you’re about to ride them, they’ll lean in to whisper, “Not so fast love, no moving, sit right there and stay still or I’ll leave you empty. You thought I’d just give in and give you what you wanted, my poor confused little one” Other times, they’d use it to literally warm themselves up. When you two are relaxing as such, they’d throw the suggestion out to you and once you agree, the two of you will just be lounging about with their cock buried in you, staying warm. There are times you’ve fallen asleep with them buried in you. “You feel so warm and tight love, stop shifting so much, just stay still. This feels good, now we can cuddle.”

MAEDHROS, Maglor, CELEBRIMBOR, FINGOLFIN, FINGON, Finarfin, FINROD, AEGNOR, GLORFINDEL, GALDOR, BELEG, Rog, Elrond

Hates it – the first time you suggest the act, they were down to try it, but once you sank your warm hole onto their cock, it was over for them. Their hands would immediately shoot out to grab your waist, urging you to move but you’ll simply push it away and lean into their chest informing them that you’re not supposed to move. “It’s called cockwarming for a reason. Now stay still. Don’t get mad, remember you agreed to this, so sit and enjoy it.” This was absolute torture for them, they couldn’t take it anymore. Knowing that if they moved their hips right then, you’d probably hop off and that wasn’t part of their plan. Waiting till you were settled in and comfortable, with ease, their hands would sneak around your waist holding you firmly to their chest and without any warning, begin thrusting into you. You’d admit that this was not how you planned the session to go but with the way the tip of their cock was brushing against your soft spot, your moans gave it away. Now whenever you suggest it to them, they’d smile at you saying that they’ll behave, only to abuse your heat as soon as you sink down on their cock. The longest they’ve ever lasted was five seconds. “If you really thought I’d sit through all that torture, you’re absolutely wrong. Now be a good girl/boy and enjoy my cock.”

FEANOR, CELEGORM, Curufin, Turgon, ARGON, ANGROD, EGALMOTH, ECTHELION, MAEGLIN, ELLADAN

Mixed feelings – one minute it’s torture for them the other it’s blissful. It just all depends on their mood not so much yours. If they’re tired and just want to be warmed or you want to feel them, they’d let you go ahead without interrupting you. They’d simply wrap their arms around you and pull you in closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and drifting off to sleep. Other times it’s when they’re busy doing paperwork and could do with a little relief. Letting you sit on their lap with the table hiding their cock buried deep in your heat, they’d let you lean into them so they could continue their work. “This feels good, didn’t think I’d be needing this, but after I’m finished here, I’d bend you over this table for a good fuck, hmm.” When you’re teasing them all day and acting up and then decide it’s time to kick it up a notch by making them feel you were about to ride them after your tedious torture only to sit still on their cock, now you’re just asking for it. They’d be grinding their teeth the entire time when you tell them not to move while pretending to do something important, informing them that when you’re finished then you two can go at it, they’re not going to listen, not when you were suffocating their cock. They wouldn’t care at that point, so say goodbye to whatever it was that you were doing. “Don’t you think this is a little too much love, don’t you think this has gone on for too long because I think so as well. How about we change that by having me fuck you, now.”

Maedhros, MAGLOR, CARANTHIR, Amrod, Fingolfin, FINGON, TURGON, FINARFIN, Finrod, AEGNOR, Glorfindel, GALDOR, Egalmoth, ROG, ERESTOR

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @lilmelily

#reactions #silm smut #maedhros x reader #maglor x reader #celebrimbor x reader #fingolfin x reader #silmarillion x reader #fingon x reader #finarfin x reader #finrod x reader #aegnor x reader #glorfindel x reader #galdor x reader #rog x reader #elrond x reader #feanor x reader #celegorm x reader #caranthir x reader #curufin x reader #amras x reader #amrod x reader #turgon x reader #argon x reader #angrod x reader #ecthelion x reader #egalmoth x reader #erestor x reader #elladan x reader #maeglin x reader #doodlepops writings ✨

[absynthe--minded]

Hello! Can I respectfully request the promised lecture and Powerpoint about Fingon/Maedhros? I'll be honest here... I just do not see it, and I truly do want to understand. There are other relationships in the Legendarium that I really do think Tolkien deliberately and unequivocally coded as queer, and I've used all those same examples you list to back up my arguments. And I do see the parallels with Luthien and Beren (just as Sam/Frodo has parallels with that). But otherwise, I don't see a lot of queer coding. Which is not to say that I think it's a bad ship, just that I don't really see much in the text to support it or see much indication that it's what Tolkien intended. I would love to be convinced, though! I swear I'm not trying to bash Russingon or provoke anything. It seems like you have put a lot of thought and research into this, and I'm honestly curious, because this is a ship that has always puzzled me a bit.

First, thank you for asking! It’s always a pleasure to talk about my boys and my OTP to end all OTPs

I want to start what’s probably going to be a long series of self-reblogs by saying something that’s going to be important in the long haul: there is a difference between “I personally interpret this in a way that enhances the story, and it’s canonically compliant” and “I think and will seriously argue that Russingon is supported canonically by things that explicitly exist to point toward it being more than friendship”. The line can get kind of fuzzy, but it does exist, and the foundation of any good queer analysis is recognizing that.

So before I get into Sarah Waters, Mary Renault, and what the British legal system has to do with any of this, I’m going to make three lists.

Stuff That Probably Doesn’t Mean Anything, But That Is Fun To Examine From A Shipping Perspective:

Maedhros wears a copper circlet, Fingon wears gold in his braids

Maedhros abdicated the throne in favor of Fingon entering the line of succession

Maedhros stepped into a position of military authority after Fingon took the throne, working closely with him specifically to attack Angband after the Bragollach

Fingon is stated by Tolkien himself to have never married nor had biological children, and Maedhros never married nor had biological children either

Stuff That Is Ambiguous In Intent, But Is More Significant Than The Above:

Fingon clearly still cared enough about Maedhros that despite probably not knowing whether or not he burned the ships, he set out to rescue him alone in a display of loyalty to the rival royal line that put his priorities firmly in the “this nér whom I love” camp. It’s worth noting that Maedhros’s family are the reason that his sister-in-law is dead, the reason many of his own people froze to death, and the reason his brother is dead. Maedhros’s rescue, and forgiving him, is more important to Fingon than any of that. Why?

Morgoth’s battle plan for the Nirnaeth Arnoediad (as relayed in the Grey Annals in The War of the Jewels) involved forcing Maedhros and Fingon apart and trying to take both of them down simultaneously. Fingon was of course ultimately killed by Balrogs, and Maedhros avoided being killed by allies-turned-spies, but the goal was to keep them apart and incapacitate them both. Why?

Maedhros’s mental stability, willingness to exist in a society, passion for fighting Morgoth, and desire to curtail his brothers’ worst impulses all evaporate after Fingon’s death and Fingon’s death specifically. Why?

Maedhros and Fingon maintain a relationship with each other that is significantly more important to their actions than similar relationships between Finwëan cousins. Aredhel is never recorded as prioritizing Celegorm to the same extent, and Finrod only goes on a hunting trip with Maedhros and Maglor after things between their families are patched up. Why are they different from others in this way?

Stuff That Actually Matters In Analysis:

Fingon and Maedhros, Beren and Lúthien, and Frodo and Sam all share very nearly the same story at a crucial point. All three feature a situation where a rescuing party feared the one they loved was dead, discovered they were actually held prisoner by Sauron, went alone into peril, and used a song to find who they searched for successfully. Both Maedhros and Beren lost a hand in the course of their journey. Frodo lost a finger, and Sam cut the hand from the orc whipping him. All three pairs were rescued by at least one of the great eagles. Sam and Frodo have on-page declarations of love. Beren and Lúthien are the self-inserts of the author and his wife. This connection is not accidental; the author explicitly compares Frodo and Sam to Beren and Lúthien on the Quest for the Silmaril in the text of The Two Towers. If Maedhros and Fingon are being linked thematically with the central romantic relationship of the Legendarium, there is a reason why.

The Grey Annals tells us that Fingon rescued Maedhros “and their love was renewed”. That’s a direct quote from the text, not an exaggeration. This is more canonical proof of love than we get for some married couples (notably Fëanor and Nerdanel, who are never stated to love one another in the text).

Laws and Customs Among the Eldar explicitly states that half-first-cousins are allowed to marry without it being considered incestuous, so long as their parents aren’t close. That seems like an extremely odd standard, until you remember that there is an unusually close pair of half-first-cousins whose parents don’t get along.

(Obligatory note: the published Silmarillion does state that Idril and Maeglin are too close to marry. The published Silmarillion’s treatment of Maeglin is also almost certainly invented by Christopher Tolkien - Maeglin in the drafts written by JRRT himself is wildly different than how he appears when Chris writes him. Tolkien himself avoided making any such statements about cousin marriage and Turgon opposed Maeglin marrying Idril because he didn’t think it was a love marriage.)

The Grey Annals also discusses one of the histories of the green elfstone that Aragorn receives from Galadriel as a wedding gift - in this draft, it was made by Fëanor, and Maedhros gave it to Fingon. When Aragorn receives it, it’s been set in a brooch in the form of an eagle. Here we have another thing that passed between Maedhros and Fingon that is explicitly linked to romantic relationships between two characters echoing Beren and Lúthien. This is once again not accidental.

Fingon’s harp is almost certainly a reference to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, which also heavily inspired Lúthien pleading for Beren in Mandos. Yet again, we have deliberate intent by the author to position this relationship in a light that reflects romance above all else. You could even go further and point out that there are parallels between Thingol’s hostility toward Beren and Fëanor’s distrust and hatred of the Nolofinwëans. Túrin and Beleg, who get to kiss on the page, are also echoes of Russingon - early bliss marred by a kinslaying, a hopeless quest alone armed with a bow, an injury that results from freeing the captive party.

The fact of the matter is that none of this is accidental. Tolkien was deliberate in his worldbuilding, his parallels, his setups and his plot choices. There is a reason that Fingon and Maedhros are linked to so much romance, a reason that they are positioned on equal footing with other more clearly queercoded ships, a reason that it’s their relationship that shapes the First Age. When you accept that none of it happened accidentally, that allows you to broaden your scope, and look at Tolkien’s inspirations, his life, his friendships, cultural influences, and why he might have been so cagey about his M/M ships when they aren’t just important but vital to the text. (After all, Sam and Frodo’s happy ending comes after Sam’s time in heteronormativity, and Túrin and Beleg fall apart in a similar fashion.)

It’s just - it’s not crazy or insane or Shipper Goggles to say “these relationships matter, and the stories actually don’t make sense without them”. That’s all.

(Next time, if you like, we’re going to talk about historical fiction, and there will be lesbians.)

#RUSSINGON #silmarillion #silmarillion meta #absynthe’s meta #replies #tolkien #anon replies

[sotwk]

I was wondering who are your fancasts for your headcanon world?

<33

Hiiii Quickie! @quickslvxrr

Am I right in guessing that your question was prompted by my reblog of your reblog of Charlie Hunnam's gif set? XD

Because if so, I will just say that I am very excited to have selected Charlie as my fancast for Théodred of Rohan! (Excited because I hope to start writing chapters of my Eomer x OC fic soon, which actually co-stars dear Théodred.)

I have a growing fancast list for the SotWK AU! I still need to get around to making an official and complete list, but since you seem curious, here is majority of what I have so far.

Apart from Reader Insert stories I write in response to requests, all fics and characters I create are grounded in the SotWK AU, so these characters exist consistently across and crossover between my stories.

SotWK AU Fancast List (a work in progress)

The Royal Family of the Woodland Realm

Elvenking Thranduil - Lee Pace

Elvenqueen Maereth - Jennifer Connelly

Crown Prince Mirion - Henry Cavill

Prince Turhir - Sam Heughan

Prince Arvellas - Rupert Friend 

Prince Gelir - Sam Claflin

Prince Legolas - Orlando Bloom

Crown Princess Itarildë  - Teresa Palmer

(later Crown) Prince Aranion - Bradley James

Princess Anariel- Gabriella Wilde 

Elvenking Oropher - Jason Isaacs

Greenwood Elves

Darthol (Gelir's birth-mate) - Dan Stevens

Olondir (cousin of the Thranduilions) - Jake Gyllenhaal

Rivendell Elves

Elrond - Hugo Weaving

Celebrían - Connie Nielsen 

Nimeithel (oc cousin of Celebrían & mother of Itarildë) - Rebecca Ferguson

Elladan - Richard Madden

Elrohir - Sebastian Stan

Silmarillion / First Age Ancestors

Glorfindel - ???? -still searching!-

Elemírë (oc wife of Glorfindel & sister of Elenwë) - Vanessa Kirby

Maglor/Kanafinwë - Ben Barnes

Velcálë (oc wife of Maglor) - Zendaya Coleman

Círdan the Shipwright - Iain Glen

Eäriel (oc wife of Círdan) - Olivia Hussey

Eärondir (oc son of Círdan & father of Maereth) - Alexander Skarsgard  

Laurinwen (oc mother of Maereth) - Lily Collins

Dwarves / Line of Durin

Durin III, King of Khazad-dûm- Hugh Jackman 

Frerin, son of Thrain - Gerard Butler

Gondorians

Aerdis (oc love interest of Boromir) - Freida Pinto 

Anarlas (brother of Aerdis) - Oscar Isaac

Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth - Eric Bana

Ivriniel - Isabella Rossellini

Finduilas - Monica Bellucci

Erchirion - Adam Driver

Lothíriel - Gal Gadot

Rohirrim

Théodred - Charlie Hunnam

Signyr (oc shield-maiden & Éomer's love interest) - Katheryn Winnick

Léodor (oc in Éomer's Éored) - Chris Hemsworth

Héothain (oc in Éomer's Éored) - Will Poulter

Haradrim

to be revealed OC - Pedro Pascal

YUP. I almost didn't want to insert that little spoiler of my upcoming fic, but I'm just too excited about fancasting the widely adored Pedro Pascal in my AU. It will be one heck of a character, too! I am SO VERY excited to create Harad OCs (Pedro's will be the main one)!

Thank you for the Ask! Although this list is still messy and incomplete, answering it puts me one step closer to getting an official fancast list done! :)

Just tagging people whom I think/hope might be interested in this:

@hobbitwrangler @scyllas-revenge @ass-deep-in-demons @emmanuellececchi @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @konartiste @hippodameia @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @entishramblings @heilith @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @quillofspirit @stormchaser819 @g-m-kaye @mirra-kan @alwayssevvy @marsharmonicorchestra @laurfilijames @coopsgirl @jane0error @jezzibee @lathalea @cuarthol

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

SotWK HC Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

#sotwk answers #sotwk oc #sotwk headcanon #sotwk fancast #lotr #tolkien #tolkien oc #lotr oc #lord of the rings #greenwood the great #thranduil #thranduilion #mirkwood elves #gondor #rohan

[actual-bill-potts]

Wow congratulations on 2k!! Can I be very predictable and request some Maedhros and Maglor – maybe post-Dagor Bragollach? Thank you!

With many many apologies for how late this is, thank u very much and I hope you enjoy beloved <3

Maglor was lying on his front.

His back had been badly burned during the last frantic leg of his flight to Himring. Maedhros, over and over, had thought he could have turned - if he’d turned at the wrong moment he could have been blinded, or worse. Sometimes he was so overcome by this thought that he, very carefully and quietly, breathed a prayer of thanks to Varda.

She was not listening, of course. But - but if she was. Just in case. For Maglor.

Himring had not had much burn salve when the Long Peace came to its sudden and abrupt end. Maedhros - fool that he was - had not anticipated the dragon, and had seen no need for a large store of such. Besides, it was difficult to grow plants with the required soothing properties on his windy hill. So they had had very little to treat the injuries of Maglor’s people, and of Maglor himself. Many had died. Maglor himself had almost died; he had screamed himself hoarse, crying out, "Nelyo, make it stop - make it stop please" until Maedhros had fled the room. He had defenses to mount, rations to assign, guards to discipline. He could not spend all day in his brother’s room, and his burning presence could not help: only harm.

But Maglor’s fever had at last broken, the burned skin on his back beginning at last to knit itself together. Though it was still dangerous to apply any pressure to his back, the healers had lost the strain about their eyes when they spoke to Maedhros. And so he felt that it was safe enough now to sit in the same room with Maglor, and hold his hand, and feel the rhythmic flicker of his brother’s spirit.

Beside him Maglor stirred. "Lindessë?" he asked, muzzily.

Maedhros held in a wince. Maglor’s wife had been lost in Dagor Bragollach. There had been few who were not soldiers at the Gap in the first place, and they had been sent out to seek safety at Himring with a company at the first sign of attack - or so Maedhros had gathered, from one of Maglor’s few lucid periods and the reports of his commanders. Not a one of the civilians had reached Himring, and Lindessë was dead. His guess was that they had run into the dragon, and he could only hope that it had been quick.

"Not Lindessë, Lauro," he said gently.

A pause. "Oh," Maglor said at last, dully. "Yes. She is dead."

"Yes," said Maedhros. There was nothing else to say.

"But you are alive?" said Maglor. His fingers were cool within Maedhros’ own.

"Yes," said Maedhros again. "I live - and you live, and I am glad of it."

"It - hurts," said Maglor.

"I am sorry," returned Maedhros, wishing that he could do something - anything! - to help, instead of delivering useless platitudes and standing beside Maglor’s burned body with a spirit that was constantly afire with agony. "We have not much salve and the healers are stretched thin."

"No," said Maglor, voice muffled by the pillow. "Not - that. Her."

"Ah," said Maedhros. He did not know what to say. This was one of the rare pains he did not intimately know. The thought of it made him quail.

I told you so, Curufin might have said. They had all warned Maglor, again and again, about the danger of marrying in Beleriand: and marrying one who could not fight and did not wish to! She had been indispensable in the Gap, it was true, for her way with horses was unmatched and her Songs beautiful - but she was no warrior. And Maglor was so close to the Enemy.

Maglor had not listened, and now Lindessë was gone, and Maedhros did not have the heart to say anything about unwisdom. Not anymore.

"I know it hurt," Maglor said. "I felt it. She was surprised. She reached out to me. But I could not reach back."

"I am sorry, háno," said Maedhros, squeezing Maglor’s fingers, trying to imbue them with some of his own warmth. "She is safe now."

"Is she? Or do you think she is Doomed along with us?"

"She was Sindar," said Maedhros, "and has shed no blood. Námo is not unjust."

Maglor laughed bitterly. "Is he not?"

Maedhros could think of nothing to say to that; and they sat in silence for awhile.

Finally Maglor said, "Do you think there are horses, where she is?"

"I do not know," said Maedhros. "Perhaps. There are horses in Aman, after all."

"Yes," said Maglor, "yes, you are right." He turned his face towards Maedhros. His cheeks were wet.

"I want to go home," he said. "I am so tired."

"I know," said Maedhros. He stroked the short ends of Maglor’s hair carefully. "I am here. I am sorry."

"Do not be sorry," said Maglor. "It was not you who led us here. I am just - tired."

"Then you ought to sleep," said Maedhros, "and I will be here when you wake up, if you wish it."

"I do," said Maglor. His voice cracked. "I do wish it."

Maedhros hesitated. "I am not Atar, not yet Amil, but - I - I will take care of you, dearest. As long as I can."

"I know," said Maglor, squeezing Maedhros’ hand in turn. "I know."

His hitching breaths evened out soon after that, and Maedhros sat with him long into the night, banking the blaze of his spirit as best he could, breathing in time with his brother.

#Maedhros #maglor #asked and answered #sorry this took forever ghosti I hope u like beloved #sorry it’s messy also #silm fic #my writing

[lamemaster]

The Glorious One

Request: Hi. I was wondering if you could write a fic, where Maedhros comes back from Angband and finds the female elf reader with a child and assumes she had given up on him and moved on. He decides to stay away from her life. The reader comes to him with their son, but he keeps his distance and still believes he ( son ) is someone else's son. Their son decides to participate in the war. Only for him to find out that the boy is his, after his death in the war. The reader and Maedhros had a heartfelt moment in the end.I hope you can understand this and it doesn't sound too confusing and complicated.

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: Angst (caution- 100% concentrated angst)

Word Count: 3k

AN: Thanks for the request I loved writing it. Also, Baldur has been a long-time OC of mine so lmk if you would like to know more about it.

Part 2

The peaceful shores of Nevrast offer little comfort to your heart. The unease that hasn’t left you for the past months has followed you there.Yet, you wander these shores looking for the last hope. Your only hope.

Turgon had become your last resort. It was nearly a year since Maedhros’ capture and you were close to exhausting your options. The only remaining option now seemed to be Turgon. 

Related to you by your aunt Anaire, your mother’s sister, you believed Turgon to be the only one who could help you find Maedhros. You had begged Maglor and pleaded to an unrelenting Celegorm. You tried everyone but none answered.

But now that you find yourself closer to Turgon’s averting eyes, where lingers no love for his once half-cousin, you wonder if it were to be you. You would have left long ago, had there not been kicking signs of life in your belly. Yours and Maedhros’ child. 

You found it no later than when you first received the news of your beloved’s ambush. And now it became the only tether that kept you away from Maedhros. Maybe you had expected him to be back, for someone to care for him, for anyone of his extensive kin to go look for him. 

You desired for him to be here for the news. You wanted him to witness your growing belly or be there for the mornings of your sickness. You never talked about having children of your own but you knew how much it would have pleased Maedhros. How much he would love his child. 

So, by the quiet shores of the Nevrast, you wait for a time when you will be able to go look for your Nelyo. When you would be able to reunite the father of your child with them. 

The pains of your labor pass in the halls of Turgon. The day that you wished to spend by Maedhros is spent alone in pain. It seems unending and there is no one to hold your hand as your body tears itself. But that too passes away when you hear his first cries. 

Baldur, your son enters the world with shrill cries that drown yours. And just like this hope springs back into your life. He has come and Maedhros would as well. 

It is that day you start counting the time that you would be allowed to go look for Maedhros. One day when your son would be old enough to be by himself and you could bring Maedhros back. 

You spend years raising Baldur, who inherits your hair but glimpses of Maedhros reflect from his face. Cherishing every moment of his little life. Writing every passing moment down for when you will meet Maedhros.

So, it comes as a surprise when you hear the news of Maedhros’s return. Fingon rescued him from the cliffs of the Thangodrim. Holding your son Baldur’s little hand you make your way to Hirming. And on your way, you tell your son all of his father’s tales, his valor, his speech, his kindness, everything you remember your Maedhros as.

What greets you in Hirming is not a warm welcome…you did not expect that but a sense of hostility fills the air. Something that you did not expect to encounter. Not on the occasion of Maedhros’s return.

In your arms, Baldur excitedly whispers the name of each of his uncles. At least he tries to from whatever he can remember. Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curfin, Amrod, Amras, you have told him of all his uncles. Every single one of the big family he belongs to, even the ones separated by the sea.

“I must meet Maedhros,” you ask of Maglor who stops you outside of Maedhros’ door. Despite burying his head in your shoulder you can feel Baldur’s curiosity towards his uncles. The merry swing of his legs betray his excitement but your son has promised for Maedhros, his father to be the first one to be the one who he looks at. So, your darling waits with the patience of the most obedient elfling. 

You, however, unlike Baldur face the disdain on Maglor’s face who does not budge from the door. “Brother is unwell,” your heart drops at his words but Maglor continues, “Please leave.” Curt words grate on your nerves. There lingers a dangerous edge of Feanorian rage hidden in your brother-in-law’s voice. 

A dreadful sorrow fills your entire being as you re-adjust Baldur in your arms. 

“You don’t unde-”

“I understand well enough and so does Maitimo. We have all honored your wish to choose another so leave. Do not burden my brother with any more grief. Do not make him witness your child with another,” words that leave Maglor’s mouth leave you numb. 

“I would not…you know that Laure,” you try to explain to the ellon who does not believe anything that leaves your mouth. 

“My brother has honored you enough to offer you a home in Hirming but nothing more. So honor him in return and stay away.” Yet your mind focuses only on the slight wetness on your shoulder. Your son’s tears dampen your gown. Little hands that clutch your fabric close in a fist. How could he, who you shielded from every hurt, how could he be bared to such cruelty?

Your truth and your son’s truth go unheard. And you let it be for the prince you once knew to be your husband. The one who escapes your every sight. 

Maybe it is your last favor to him. A mercy of sparing him of the bond he seems to deny so vehemently. You do not burden him, who has suffered enough. 

 Concealed behind the thick curtains of his room, Maedhros observes you leave. His heart drowning in what seems the most painful of hurts. Moments ago, what had been his unconcealed joy now turns into despair.

He had felt the familiar flutter of his heartbeat your voice albeit strained but it had been your voice. The one he had craved for years of his capture. The voice of love from Valinor, the voice who stood by even in the hour of their dreadful doom. Your voice.

But the reality of the present comes crashing down. His brothers had told him of your choice. Your binding to another who lived in Nevrast. And despite all that happened, despite your betrayal, Maedhros could not blame you. It was for better that you remained away from the Maedhros of middle earth. It was better that for you he will always be the Nelyafinwe of Aman. Unscared ellon you loved. Not the broken husk he had become. And maybe just the act of your care of coming to visit him was enough. It was enough for Maedhros. He could not ask more of you.

He watches you leave his tower, it is then that he notices the mass on your shoulder, and his heart skips a beat. Resting on your shoulder is a mop of hair similar to yours. A tiny squished face and dazed slightly reddened eyes of an elfling. Your son. Yours and someone else’s, who wasn’t him, who he could never be.

Years later as Maedhros walks the paths of his celebrating soldiers, he for the first time feels the thrum of joy run through his veins. Dagor Aglareb, the glorious battle had been glorious indeed. A win against the dark lord.

The air feels fresher and the walls of Hirming more welcoming than they ever did. Maybe there was hope for them. With a thousand future plans forming in the eldest Feanorian’s brain, the victorious battalion made their way to the fortress. 

Yet, despite the joy that fills the party, the first night of the return is mellow. It is spent to honor the ones lost for the cause. There is a small number of them but that makes it even more important to honor those who took the fall for the cause of this world.

Heroes in their own right. It is members of a small segment led following an onslaught of a chunk of the orc army. Numbers smaller than the ones surviving. It is what most would call not a heavy loss. 

Carrying the list of departed, Maedhros spends the night comforting the families. He sits next to grieving wives and lamenting daughters. He does that earnestly. Their tears become his and their burden his. But he does not stop.

So, the world falls silent when his steps land him in front of your door. The one he has ignored for so long. And Maedhros’ heart thunders and an ominous feeling haunts him, leaving goosebumps lining his arms.

Baldur, Captain of the guard. Died following a party of orcs. The words written on his list haunt him. The handle to your door is cold. There is a solitary chill that creeps through the wooden door. 

Pushing open the door, Maedhros pauses as he takes in the scene in front of him. The entire room lies in disarray and in the middle of the broken glass pieces, a sea of cloaks, coats, pieces of paper, are seated you. 

With your hair undone, your hands bleeding onto the floor as pieces of glass dig deep into your skin. Maedhros finds you. Your face is full of blood, for a fleeting moment it alarms Maedhros only for you to smear it further as you wipe your tears.

“Baldur,” your voice is a whisper as your hug a cloak close to you. “Baldur,” you repeat and Maedhros notices how hoarse your voice is. He steps closer but you do not notice him.

“I am sorry for your loss,” formal words feel awkward on his tongue. “He was a great soldier. A captain worthy of his title,” Maedhros strings sentiments that do not come easy to him. He tries to imagine the captain he cannot remember. A distant face, he had not known to be your son. “Your son’s body is retrieved. You may ask his father-”

“His father will not come,” you interrupt him. Your voice so distant. Maedhros aches to hold you. Even through this, a sense of rage fills him. The unfairness of the ellon who left you to bear this alone. “Why not?” Maedhros questions back. 

“He does not know of his son. His father never knew how much his son cherished him. How much that child wished to be with him.” a cold seeping fear fills Maedhros. But he does not stop his next question. He cannot stop himself from asking you, “Who is it?” In some sense, he knows the answer.

You do not answer him. But Maedhros does not need words to know. He gingerly picks up one of the papers littered around you. It is written in a handwriting he has never seen but it feels hauntingly familiar nonetheless. 

Silence hangs heavy between you, the unspoken truths and the untold years of longing stretching out in the space. The ache in his chest grows unbearable as he takes in the sight of you, battered by grief and loss. His voice trembles as he finally speaks the words that have been lodged in his throat for far too long.

"I am sorry," he whispers, his voice laced with regret and a pang of profound sadness. “I am sorry,” he repeats as his soul seems to be ripping itself.

Dearest Father,

The day I meet you, I shall immediately demand my Ataresse. You must name with pride. Every day I work hard for that day. For that fated day when you will recognize me as your son. I know it will come and how proud you will be of me. I will work hard for it.

I wonder about you a lot. All of you. I have heard your tales from Mother, from your soldiers who seem to admire and respect you more than the Valar themselves. Father, your strength, your kindness, your valor, I admire them all. I hope that I too can become likes of you one day.

Your empathy for trying to save the boats, your humility in passing the crown to grand uncle Nolofinwe, your strength in remaining unyielding to the enemy. I love them all. Mother tells me that I am as tall as you and that I speak just like you. You must tell me if that is true when we meet.

My mother loves you intensely. She speaks of you with such fondness that even I cannot help but be endeared to you, who I have never met. I too wish to find to love like that once in my lifetime. But I shall only do that once I unite you and Mother.

And when that happens I will meet all my uncles and ask them more about you and them. I am writing this letter as I wait for the Hirming guard to respond back to my recruitment. I hope this step brings me closer to you. 

Until then father, I will pray that you will love me. 

With all my love,

Baldur

Dearest Father,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. It has been some time since I last wrote to you, and there are many things I wish to share with you.

I have recently been appointed as a squire to one of the knights of Hirming. It is a great honor, and I am learning a great deal from him. He speaks highly of your prowess in battle and your strategic brilliance. I strive to emulate your skills and make you proud.

Mother often tells me stories of your adventures and the battles you fought. She speaks of your unwavering courage and unwavering loyalty to your kin. I am in awe of your bravery, and I long to be a warrior like you.

Father, I have been practicing my archery skills diligently. I can now hit the target from greater distances, and I am improving my accuracy. I hope that one day, I will be as skilled as you were with a bow and arrow. I know you would be pleased to see my progress.

Sometimes, I sit beneath the stars and imagine what it would be like to have you by my side. To learn directly from you, to hear your words of wisdom, and to feel the strength of your embrace. I yearn for that day, Father, when we can be together as father and son.

I often wonder if you think of me, if you know of my existence. I hope that one day, you will hear of my achievements and be proud of the son you have. I dream of the moment when we will finally meet, when I can look into your eyes and see the love that only a father can give.

Until that day comes, Father, I will continue to train and strive to be the best version of myself. I will carry your name and your legacy with honor. I will make sure that the world knows of the great Maedhros and the love he has for his son.

With all my love and longing,

Baldur

Dearest Father,

Guess what?! Something amazing has happened! I can hardly contain my excitement as I write this letter to you!

I am thrilled to share with you that I have been chosen as the Captain of the Guard in Hirming! Can you believe it? I get to lead a whole group of brave warriors and protect our people. It's like a dream come true! I'm walking on air, Father!

Every day, I put on my shiny armor and hold my head high, just like you would. I feel so important and strong, just like the great Tulkas himself! Everyone looks up to me, and I make sure to lead with courage and honor, just like you taught me through Mother's stories.

Oh, Father, I can't help but imagine the day when I will finally meet you face to face. I'll run up to you, all covered in armor, and say, "Father, it's me, Baldur, your son!" And we'll hug and laugh and talk about all the adventures we'll have together.

I'm training harder than ever, Father. I want to be strong and skilled, just like you. Every swing of the sword, every strategic move, brings me closer to you. I can almost feel your presence guiding me, cheering me on. I'll make you proud, Father, I promise!

I have so many questions to ask you when we finally meet. I want to hear about all your epic battles, your wise words, and the lessons you've learned. And I can't wait to share my own stories with you too! We'll have the grandest adventures together, just you and me.

Until that magical day arrives, Father, know that I carry you in my heart always. Your spirit fuels my determination and gives me the courage to face any challenge. I'm counting down the days until we can be together, to laugh, to fight, and to create memories that will last a lifetime.

With overflowing excitement and love,

Your enthusiastic son, Baldur

Cheers of victory fill the empty field where Baldur lies. A smile creeps on his face. They made it. They had won. His father won. 

The sword that impales him seems to pin him to the ground but Baldur cannot care. Even as shreds of his soul are ripped from his body, the ellon is full of pride. 

The world blurs as his breaths come uneven and maybe he is indeed lost in a trance when he sees a blurry outline come walking towards him. He squints his eyes but it is hard to distinguish the battered armor that seems to be heading his way.

“Father,” he calls but no one replies.

Alcarinque, Maedhros names his son. The glorious one, who died in the glorious battle. 

#the silmarillion #tolkien elves #noldor elves #silmarillion x reader #angst #maedhros x reader #maedhros

[silmawensgarden]

Only an ocean away

Maglor x reader

Prompt: Sending you a request for Maglor x reader where reader finally brings him home from his millenia of wanderings on the shore? (Home could be to Rivendell or Valinor or where you think would fir best!)

Requested by: anonymous

A/n: I really liked this idea of coaxing Maglor back home to Valinor through Rivendell. I decided on a chance encounter for reader & Maglor. I really hope you enjoy it and thanks so much for your request!

Word count : 1,8k

Warnings: none really

Today was a strange day, there was something in the air that felt heavy and familiar at the same time. Nevertheless you continued on your way back towards Rivendell. You had gone out for a few days to collect herbs in the nearby forest. The evil of Sauron had been subdued a small while ago. A small while for elves that is. The forest had once been filled with horrid creatures, nowadays surprisingly some incredibly rare herbs grew there. Despite some dangers from the remaining wild animals, the trek through was worth it. Your heart felt heavy at some point on your way back so you decided to change direction for a little while. Making your way towards the sea shore you finally felt yourself relax a little. It's been a while since you came here. The salty air reminded you of your home far away. Your home was in Valinor, not far from the shore. In your youth you used to come to the sea shore to play with your friends. The salty air made your heart yearn for those days with your friends.

You sat down by some rocks on the shore. The sand on this beach wasn't nearly as pearly white and gem like as in valinor, but it has it's own beauty. You've come to see Rivendell and it's surrounding environment as your second home. Out of nowhere a strange creaky sound came from behind you. Your breath hitched and you carefully turned around, ready to fight off whatever might be preying on you. However when you looked behind you, you saw nothing. You looked around with a confused look on your face. Then the sound came again. This time you saw something scuttle away into a cave. The last bit you managed to see was something that looked like torn clothes. Your curiosity got the better of you and you slowly moved towards where you had seen the muddy red cloth.

As you stepped forward behind the rock you sat on you saw a crude little cave hewn into the rock formation further back. It looked like something moved in there. It could be a child... you thought. In that case it might've been lost for some time judging by the poor condition of the piece of cloth you saw. You walked closer to the cave to inspect whether you were right. Just before you managed to get to the entrance an incredibly hoarse and creaky voice shrieked at you from inside. You could still manage to understand that it was likely a male, but nothing else. Taking up all your courage you stepped into the cave entrance and were met with a rusty dagger in front of your face. Behind the dagger sat what appeared to be a malnourished and traumatised elf. The elf had no strength left in him as even trying to keep the dagger pointed at you cost him so much energy that his arm was shaking uncontrollably. He had dark eyebags under his incredibly blue eyes and his features were sunken. You caught a few scars on his arms while you took in his appearance.

You wanted to get him out of the cave and maybe even manage to get him some help in Rivendell. Poor man has been through it it seems. You decided to sit down and see if he understood any language you knew.

You tried Sindarin first, he seemed to respond to it but did not speak it. Instead he spoke back to you in a mix of what you could only guess was first age Quenya. At this point you regrettably had to thank your tutors from when you were young for forcing you to sit through Quenyan literature classes. Seeing no other option besides attempting to speak to him in Quenya you gave it your best shot.

"Hello?...Not fear me, I am friend, not bad. Who are you?" You managed to wrangle out some poorly formulated sentences. The grammar would have sent your old tutor in to a shock induced coma if he had heard it. It appeared to be the same for this elf. The expression on his sunken face couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than displeasure. So much for trying to be nice...

However despite his initial displeasure he decided to attempt to speak to you. You were having an awful amount of trouble understanding him. Not just because he was barely audible but also because you had slept through most of your literature classes. He spoke with a specific dialect that you couldn't place. Seeing how much trouble you were having he gave you a small smile and started speaking to you like you were a small child. Word for word, to see if you understood.

Now you felt like it was you who had been hiding in that crude little excuse of a cave.

After a little while of throwing words around with each other he had calmed down enough to understand that you weren’t going to hurt him. Slowly he came out of his cave and stood in front of you. It was immediately clear to you that this elf was much taller than you. By quite a considerable amount. It was a mystery to you how he managed to fit into that tiny space.

The two of you made your way back to Rivendell together. Walking slowly and taking many breaks as it appeared that your new companion could not walk very far for very long periods of time. He was so malnourished that his legs gave out frequently during the journey back.  During the journey you got to know each other better. The language barrier was still a big problem but you found creative ways to communicate with each other regardless.

After a full two and a half days of walking you finally arrived in Rivendell. You now also knew the name of your companion. Maglor. Maglor Fëanorion. It was surprising to say the least. But you dwelled little on the matter. By the looks of it, Maglor had already been through sufficient punishment. No need to lay any more on him. The healers rushed to take him to the infirmary so he could rest and gain some of his strength back. You promised him that you would visit in a few days once he is a little more stable.

A few days have passed and both you and Elrond have visited Maglor a few times. There’s been a rumor floating around Rivendell that Elrond could be related to the elf that was brought to the healers at the start of the week. You wanted to ask Maglor about it but weren’t sure if he’d tell you anything.

Things started to quiet down again as the weeks went by. Weeks turned into a few months and something started to grow between you and Maglor. At first it appeared to be a deep friendship but now it feels like it may one day be more. Only time will tell whether something could be between you.

Maglor was starting to make a speedy recovery now that a few months have passed. He no longer looked malnourished and could walk for a considerable amount of time again. His hair had grown fuller too. It pained you to remember how matted and gross it had looked when you first saw him.

However as time passes and seasons change so do our wishes. Your soul wanted to go home. So it became clear to you and a handful of others that you would be boarding the next available ship at the grey havens. You had talked this over with Elrond and a few of your other friends, one of which was Maglor.

He felt sad about your upcoming departure be he refused to let it show.

And so the day of your departure finally arrived.

It was early in the morning, the sun has just barely come out of hiding. You stood still on the docks, taking in middle earth for what would likely be the last time. You wanted to go home, but a tiny part of you was having trouble letting go. Maglor had promised to meet you before you left. The majority of elves had boarded the ship already, you were the only one stalling the departure. Finally you saw a figure in the distance that appeared to be Maglor. He ran towards you, pushing through the crowd of people to get to you as best as he could.

“I am sorry for making you wait y/n! I tried to come here as fast as I could. I overestimated my ability to run….I am unable to run as much as I once could.” He said, smiling sheepishly.  

You smiled back and stepped a little closer to him. “It is fine, do not worry. We still have time before the boat leaves.”

Despite Maglor smiling warmly at you he was being torn apart internally. One part of him wished desperately to come with you, but a voice in his head told him he wasn’t worthy of returning to valinor and that he should forever remain in isolation.  “I am not certain that I can go with you Y/n….I…I must remain here in Arda.”

You were saddened by his words but decided not to push him. After all it wouldn’t be the last boat to leave for valinor.  “Maglor, no matter what or where if you decide to leave to valinor one day, know that I’ll only ever be an ocean away.” You smiled the best smile you could muster. It was in this moment that you came to the realization that you loved him. Yet you now would never get the chance to say it. It was now truly time for the ship to sail out towards valinor. There was no way that you could stall it any further. You said your goodbyes and boarded the ship. A coldness came over your heart and a tear slipped from your eye.

Maglor watched as the ship sailed out, boring holes into your back with his gaze. And then right at the least expected moment something took hold of his senses and he threw himself into the sea. The coldness of the sea forced him to swim forward as he called out to you. The elves on the boat saw him struggling to swim and threw out a fishing net to catch him up onto the boat.

He was drenched to the bone and shivering, but his smile was warmer than the sun on a summer afternoon.

He didn’t care anymore about people’s judgements and what the valar would say of his return. All he ever needed was you, and now that he had you…nothing else mattered.

#feanorians #maglor x reader #maglor imagine #maglor #silmarillion oneshots #oneshot #silmarillion imagines #tolkien #silmarillion #sons of feanor #makalaure #kanafinwe #silmarillion fic

[i-did-not-mean-to]

The curse of being loved

This ficlet is my peace offering to @sortumavaara.

I have not forsaken your blorbo. I swear... I'm just not good at writing him lol

@elanna-elrondiel you wanted to be tagged. @cilil this is your fault for enabling and encouraging me!

Characters: Elrond, Elros, Elwing, Maglor, Maedhros

Words: 1,5k

Warnings: Sadness, Eldritch powers, kids are creepy, self-realisation, murder, canonical slaughter, canonical kidnapping

The first language Elrond had ever heard was the breathless cries of amazement and captivation at perceiving, and he’d understood it at once even though he didn’t yet comprehend the power inherent to that instinctive reaction of bone-deep awe.

As was expected and natural, he was loved and cherished by his parents, and, if he noticed that their level of watchfulness went beyond that of others, he did not think anything of it.

Why would he have? He’d never known any other way of being treated.

Likewise, he’d never really questioned the strange appeal he and Elros seemed to hold for almost any other adult in the dismal camp of refugees. They were twins, a two-pronged beacon of life and hope, and it made sense that those who’d previously suffered such pains and deprivation would feel inexorably drawn to the soft, open faces of young children.

Elrond was aware that—in a world full of lurking danger and dark doom—he was vulnerable and precious to the adults in his life, not least because of the importance and wisdom of his genitors who were still utterly besotted with his charming smiles and pleading glances.

As time went by, though, he soon learned how to capitalise on that undeniable weakness in that self-forgotten, profoundly selfish way that was typical for toddlers.

Thus, he observed the reactions of those surrounding him with dispassionate curiosity, adjusting his mannerisms and voice in a myriad of discreet, nigh-imperceptible ways to consciously exacerbate the strange, alluring, corrupting effect he had on people.

In time, and almost despite himself, he started to tilt his head in a way that made his eyes gleam and his skin appear fragile and translucent like the finest porcelain, having ascertained through trial and error that this made it patently impossible for anyone looking at him to avert their eyes or deny him even the most outlandish request.

Barely out of infancy, he was continually perched on someone’s arm like a wondrous bird wrought of unconfessed wishes and stardust—back then, he was blessedly ignorant of his own lineage and the terrible might it conferred to him, and he shamelessly basked in the attention and admiration with which he was unceasingly showered.

Slowly but obdurately, all his motions grew thoughtful and elegant long before other children his age had outgrown the phase of rambunctious chaos, and yet, neither he nor his brother was ever truly ostracised or mocked by their peers for their peculiar charm that invariably turned rational sages and ferocious warriors into blabbering fools.

They were loved by all they met, and they hadn’t yet made any experience that would push them to worry about something as self-evident and wholesome as the simple fact that people seemingly never grew tired of watching them play or listening to them talk, no matter the subject and its relative importance.

Growing older and fairer with every passing day, Elrond before long was overcome with the unshakable sensation that the people around him drew an unfathomable, indescribable sense of soothing and even healing from their every interaction with him, and so he pushed aside his nascent qualms at having praise and gifts bestowed upon him without measure or restraint.

Still, he felt adored, respected, and valued in his community, and he began to feel responsible for those who had taken such generous care of him in return. When he grew to his full strength, he vowed, he’d prove himself worthy of all the affection that had been heaped upon him for as long as he could remember.

One fateful day, though, their mother—in their father’s absence—threw herself into the arms of the sea, desperate tears channelling her bright gaze into a deadly beam of cutting devastation that would sunder her from her sons forever.

Elrond was too stunned to even cry out—he didn’t understand. How could a woman whose very purpose in life had been to coddle and adulate her sons do something so cruel and reckless?

Of course, he did not get the time to further muse about these confusing, contradictory truths in peace, though, as a stranger approached him, his long-fingered hands extended as if to promise with his whole body that he meant him and his brother no harm.

Was it instinct or habit, Elrond would never be able to determine later on, but, abandoned by his father and bereft of his mother, he shamelessly angled his face upwards to catch the flickering light of his childhood being put to the torch in his wide, wet eyes.

Robbed of all his anchor points, he fell back on the hitherto unquestioned, flawlessly reliable magic that coursed through his veins—pushing Elros behind him, he moulded himself into the most appealing version of himself to cow the ominous, looming threat by innate enchantment alone.

The stranger chuckled softly. “I used to do that,” he confessed in a soft, melodious voice that seemed to chime like a thousand golden strings. “Nelyo was always the pretty one, but I was ever able to coax and coerce people by a mere glance or a whispered word.”

Elrond flinched back as if struck. Why did this atrocious confession echo through his whole being, sending nauseating waves of shame and guilt crashing into his soul?

There was something so callously, insultingly veracious in that careless quip that Elrond felt his mask of puerile purity slip, revealing the deep-felt shock and sudden fear lurking underneath to the merciless stare of the murderous intruder.

“You truly are of Melian’s blood.”

Frowning, Elrond shook his head in a vain attempt to dispel the gossamer threads of dark and dangerous magic the man’s voice wove around his frantic mind, choking all sense of self-preservation and caution out of it mercilessly.

“Who are you?” he asked, feeling Elros’s cold hand press against the small of his back as if to encourage him or hold him back.

The fearsome foe hesitated for a heartbeat. “Maglor,” he then sighed. “Call me Maglor.”

At once, Elrond pounced on that minuscule mellowing. Stepping forward fearlessly, he put out his slender, tiny hand and conjured up his most enthralling, hypnotizing smile. “I’m Elrond, and this is my brother Elros. You wouldn’t harm us, would you?”

Wearily, Maglor—who was drenched in blood and covered in mud and miserable memories—let go of his blade and wiped his pale, empty palm across his sweat-sheened brow. “No,” he finally grunted. “I know not whence the spell you’ve put upon me has issued, and I like it not to find such power in one so young, but I admit that all bloodlust has drained from my heart. Come away, there is nought here for you but death and starvation.”

“You hexed him,” Elros whispered as they were led out of the camp. “There comes another one, can you do it again?”

In truth, Elrond was shaken to his core. After a bountiful childhood at the bosom of his parents’ people, he now came to understand that he wielded a fearsome and potentially perilous power.

He yearned to seek out his mother’s wisdom or his father’s stalwart support, but he knew not where they were, and he doubted that he’d ever be reunited with them.

Too many epiphanies—much too weighty and woeful for a mere child to fully fathom—hit him at once, and he longed to curl up in the warm, protective arms of those who’d gathered around his bassinet and his naïve games to cheer and comfort him at every turn.

From the foul fumes of burning wood and smouldering stone emerged a figure—tall and stiff as a moving tree—and Elrond closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall every single instance in which he’d tricked someone into giving him an undeserved treat or forgiving a careless trespass upon their peace and property.

“Káno, what do you think you’re doing?” the newcomer rasped impatiently.

“Speak to the child,” their new minder, already half won over, replied in a clipped voice that turned his words into a hailstorm of icy shards. “You’ll see that I had no choice in the matter.”

With a scoff, the red-haired demon turned and stalked away.

“He’s afraid of your talents,” Elrod cheered under his breath, and Elrond let him believe that the battle he was about to fight without even knowing his weapons was already won.

He’d have but little time to become consciously aware of his skills and hone them sufficiently to save their lives, but he’d not burden Elros with the devastating knowledge that they’d be on their own and at the mercy of their parents’ enemies henceforth.

When Maglor turned to lift his orphaned captives into his unyielding arms, Elrond leaned his soft cheek against the worn, dirty fur collar of his cloak in a gesture reminiscent of a defenceless kitten, seeking shelter and warmth.

“Leave it to me,” he whispered. He’d not only make these murderers spare their lives—he’d make them love him.

Again, this was an attempt at breaking me out of my writer's block, so there is no event, no Masterlist, no context...

Lots of love from me!

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #sortumavaara #NSFT server #text prompt #Eldritch Elrond #Elrond #Elros #Elwing #Maglor #Maedhros #Sirion #kidnap fam #creepy kid #strange powers #loss and love

[polutrope]

For the holiday prompts:

26. Accidental drunkenness with Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin! Thank you, love your writing 🤍

Amazing prompt Anon, and thank you! This is also for @melestasflight who requested Caranthir with the same prompt and @grey-gazania who requested Caranthir + Ugly sweaters. 1.5k words, Rated T for a lot of swearing and drunkenness. These guys are awful. Posting these to AO3, here. Prompt list (prompts closed). Little context: Curufin owns a craft brewery and Celegorm works for him. Maglor's referenced boyfriend is Daeron. See Beleria Cast of Characters for the full scoop!

Curufin cleared their empty glasses and wiped a wet cloth over the bar. He didn’t usually like to drink at work, even after closing, but they’d tapped a keg of the new Red River Winter Ale to sample.

Curufin had been wound tight all month worrying that it wouldn’t be ready for bottling in time for Yule gifting — and it barely was. But it had turned out perfect: not too heavy, with a warm spice. He’d use the late release to his advantage, slapping plain handwritten labels on the bottles and marketing them to panicked shoppers as a limited release last-minute gift. They could sell the rest of the batch under a new label in the New Year.

That weight off his shoulders, combined with the loosening effect of the alcohol, had put Curufin in a light mood. But not so light that he fell for Celegorm’s suggestion to have another pint. It was a Tuesday, and while that might make no difference to Celegorm, he had to get Celebrimbor to school in the morning.

“How did you get here?” he asked Celegorm, who was mopping the floors.

“I rode the bike. Why? You need a ride?”

Curufin shrugged. He’d hoped his brother would say he’d taken the bus. He wouldn’t have minded the company on his commute tonight. A ride would be nice, in theory, but Curufin hated being crammed on the back of Celegorm’s motorcycle.; he hated being forced to cling to his brother like a limpet as Celegorm careened around the corners… but it was a cold, and late…

“I can take transit,” he said.

“Yeah, I know you can. But you just asked me how I got here, sooo.” Celegorm dropped the mop in the bucket and crossed the floor. “You’re obviously looking for a ride. I can drop you off, bro-nut, no worries.” His hand came down hard on Curufin’s shoulder and he jolted forward.

“I’m still your boss until your shift’s over, Tyelko,” Curufin grumbled. “So you can’t hit me.”

“Oh? I assumed my shift was over when we poured the brewskies.”

“It wasn’t,” said Curufin. He sighed, considering the pros and cons of accepting a ride—

—when the front door banged open.

Curufin shot daggers at Celegorm. “What the fuck, you didn’t lock the—! We’re closed!” he shouted at the intruder.

He was cut short by the entrance of a tall, black-haired man with an unmistakable red mark on his left cheek, currently dimpled by a broad grin. Caranthir gave a throaty laugh at the look of shock on his brother’s faces.

“Moryo!” Celegorm bounded across the room and smothered him in a hug. Curufin twitched sympathetically. “When the fuck did you get into town? Didn’t think you’d be here until the twenty-fourth. How you been? ”

Celegorm might as well have been Huan, yapping and bouncing around his brother as if they hadn’t just seen him two weeks ago.

“Never mind that,” said Curufin, “what the fuck are you wearing?”

He sneered, indicating the heinous sweater his brother had on: a chunky red knit that looked like someone’s first disastrous venture into a new hobby. Too short in the sleeves and too wide in the torso, with an awful depiction of a light-garlanded cat (orange, clashing terribly), snarling in what might have been intended as a smile but which looked like an oddly anthropomorphic grimace.

“Oh yeah,” Caranthir said, spreading his arms to display the garment. “It’s hideous isn’t it? It was free, though. Don’t get rich saying no to free shit, Curvo.”

Curufin rolled his eyes. “You’re absurd. So why are you here?”

“Got some freight I can’t take to the port until the morning so I’m here for the night. Then it’s back east and time to replenish my social arsenal before I hunker down in the trenches for the battle of Yuletide.”

By which he meant spending three full days with their family. Many (Fëanor chief among them) were baffled as to why Caranthir, who had been offered scholarships to pursue a PhD fully-funded by some of the best economics programs in Endor, had instead taken up a career as a long-haul trucker. Curufin wasn’t. It wasn’t about the job, which he hardly needed with his investments. It was about the solitude. Curufin could relate. Curufin resented him for it.

“Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?” Curufin asked.

“Hell no, and don’t you dare tell them. ’All’s they know I’m not here until the twenty-fourth like I said. Anyway stop being such a dick, Curvo — you should be honoured that I chose to spend this precious evening off with you.”

He, too, slammed his hand down on Curufin’s shoulder. Curufin withdrew behind the bar to shield himself from any further assaults.

“As if.” Curufin snorted. “You’re only here because Cáno wouldn’t let you stay with him. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.” Caranthir perched on a bar stool and grunted. “But fuck Cáno. He has a whole spare room now that he’s fucking his roommate, but do you think he lets anyone use it? Nope! He’s ashamed of us, you know. Doesn’t want his environmentally-challenged boyfriend knowing his brothers are capitalists.”

“I’m not a capitalist,” said Celegorm.

Curufin and Caranthir both looked at him incredulously, then silently agreed not to respond.

Caranthir slapped the bar counter. “What’s on tap, brewmaster!”

“Nothing, we’ve closed up. Tyelko and I were just about to leave. I have to get home, it’s late, and—”

“Nope,” said Caranthir.

“Nope what?”

“Nope, you’re not leaving.”

“Nope!” Celegorm seconded, and jumped onto a stool beside Caranthir. “Come on, Curvy Scurvy, pull out some glasses, just one more round.”

Curufin frowned. He worked hard not to let on, but he felt as much the baby around any of his older brothers as he had since he was— well, an actual baby. He’d been seven when Amrod and Amras were born: it was too late to rewire the psychological violence inflicted growing up with four (gifted, brash, adored) older siblings. And now Celegorm and Caranthir leered at him from across the bar with those taunting smiles, and his resolve buckled under the desire to please them.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” he said, pulling out two glasses.

“Nah nah nah nah.” Celegorm wagged a finger. “You’re having one, too.”

“No, I’m not,” said Curufin. “I have to wake up early to take Tyelpë—”

“Oh boo-hoo-da-loo,” said Caranthir. “I have to be at the port at six a.m. Drink, Curvo. It’ll be no fun if you’re just sitting there watching us.”

Curufin ground his teeth. “Fine. A small glass. And then I’m kicking you out of here.”

*

“… and then she says: ‘Yeah okay, thanks dude. You can leave now. I know how to replace a tire.’”

“What a bitch,” Celegorm slurred.

“What?” Caranthir said. “No, man, that’s hot as fuck.” He tipped back the last of his beer then reached across the bar and refilled it directly from the tap, sloshing more of it on the floor than into his glass.

“Yo, careful!” said Curufin, then laughed. He looked into his own glass, which was disappointingly still empty. Had he had a third? He didn’t think he’d had a third. No, he’d only had two. Or it might have been three. Well, he’d just have half to be safe. He dumped half of Caranthir’s pint into his.

“Hey!” Caranthir grabbed for the glass, but Curufin had already chugged most of it down.

“Sorry, gone,” he said, then gripped the edge of the bar as he felt himself swaying backwards.

“You know what’s funny,” Celegorm said, staring at the wall. “I have no idea why Aredhel is with me.”

“Oh god, please don’t be a sad drunk,” Curufin begged. He dropped down and rested his head on the bar. “I’m so tired,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “So fucking tired…”

“No, but really, you guys. I’m such a loser. Why would she be with me? You know, I almost told her I love her the other day. I mean, I’ve told her that when we were together before, but I haven’t said it again since we got back together and what not and— damn it fuck, you guys, I do love her.”

“So tell her,” Caranthir said, then barked a laugh. “Or at least don’t tell me— I don’t give a shit.”

“You think?” Celegorm asked earnestly. Curufin groaned. “Yeah, I should tell her. Why hide?”

Curufin’s eyes squinted open just long enough to catch Celegorm picking up his phone. He flung his arm across Caranthir to smack it from his hand. It crashed to the floor.

“Hey!” Celegorm yelled.

“Don’t tell her now you dumb bag of dick rockets!” Curufin shouted, and sputtered over his lacklustre name-calling efforts.

As he stumbled to retrieve his phone, Celegorm said, “Fuck you, you broke the screen.”

“It was already broken,” Curufin lied. He snuggled against the crook of his elbow and closed his eyes. “Guys,” he muttered, “how we gon’ get home? I’m so sleepy…”

“Agh, hold up.” Caranthir bumped Curufin’s shoulder as he reached for something. “I’ll call Nelyo to come get us.”

“Good idea…” Curufin said, "Nelyo'll fix it..." and fell asleep.

#anon #celegorm #curufin #caranthir #holiday prompts #modern au #beleria au #my fic

[jhelenivarsimae]

Day 1 of Doodle December - Maglor Kanafinwë Post First Age Shenanigans

Requested by @auntieaugury !!! Thanks for the suggestion. I absolutely love this feral elf.

I'm back everyone! Please send more character requests to my inbox! I've got plenty of room in my to-doodle list!

#maglor #silmarillion #Jhelen's Doodle December #tolkien #jhelen's art #pleaseeeee send requests!

[lovefairymina]

Lord Maglor, can I ask you something ?

Maglor (with a cheeky smile): Anything for you little human ☺️

You (not expecting that response، blushing) : could you please play that music again? The one you played at the gathering last week? It reminds me of home, where I wish I could go back …

Without wasting a second, he reached for his harp and plucked the first chord that began the requested melody. His face bore an ear-splitting grin at your now relaxed state as his fingers danced across the harp strings, serenading you into tranquillity.

#♡{sweet.hugs} ~ {maglor} #maglor #maglor x y/n #maglor x you #maglor imagine #makalaurë #macalaure #kanafinwë #house of feanor #silm imagines #middle earth imagine

[doodle-pops]

Maglor NSFW Alphabet

Request: I'd like to request a SFW or NSFW alphabet for Maglor, please! - anon

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you desire a malewife, Maglor is the perfect person to have at your beck and call after you have both finished a tedious activity. Once you have both finished and no other round is being initiated, Maglor will first draw you closer to lie atop him or halfway. One hand rubs your back while the other is massaging the knots and cramps out of your thigh. His voice has returned to its normal octave capacity, becoming mellow and tender. He’ll ask if you demand any specific requirements to be met apart from his normal routine. Should you desire a meal, more massages or a bath? He isn’t going to sing any songs given his also tired state, if anything, pillow talks will transpire before either one of you falls asleep.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Maglor is great love for your neck, breasts and legs. As someone who adores the songs you make, his lips are always attached to your beautiful, biting and kissing. It’s as though he wants to devour the songs you make and feel them as they resonate. As for your legs, as one who has an oral fixation and enjoys spending hours between your legs, he has no issue with you wrapping them around his head. In fact, go right ahead and suffocate him, he finds the rush of pleasure exhilarating. The growing tightness of your thighs around his head signals to him that you are close, and the pleasure is phenomenal.

On himself, it’s self-explanatory that it’s his skilful fingers. As artfully he plucks his harp strings, he enjoys using them to pull all the songs he possibly can from you. His favourite hobby is spending time fingering you in a serene location, near a lake or in his music room.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He isn’t messy but he enjoys releasing on your body, preferably your breast or lower stomach whenever he doesn’t release inside. As he gets closer, he’ll breathlessly ask you where he should release and once you direct him, he’ll take his time and pull out before cumming on your skin, thighs or your breasts if you decided to treat him well. Káno understands that he’s under an oath and bringing children, your very own, into the world during such times is a trial. He wouldn’t take that risk to release his cum inside you all the time knowing that pregnancy can occur.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Anytime he has to masturbate, he steals your underwear and uses it to glide up and down his cock to aid him in getting off. He knows that if you ever caught him, he’d be embarrassed to be known as someone who steals your underwear. So, he waits until you’ve left the house to freely use them without any suspicion or being caught.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

As a performer and singer who writes his own songs and music, Maglor knows about writing erotica in many different forms, from vulgar to flowery languages. With that said, he is mentally aware of what must be done, where his hands and lips should go and so forth. However, he is also aware that every person is different, so the basic knowledge might not work on you; sensitivity would be different. This grants him the opportunity to explore and develop his confidence and experience with your body. He is semi-aware of the basics upon your first time and then graduates into a professional after learning your body.

F = Favourite positions (this goes without saying)

Missionary is his go-to and has the highest preference for all the different types of sessions he wishes to conduct. Whether it be rough, sentimental, your first time or last, he sticks to missionary as his number one position. Being able to get close and witness every micro-expression on your face to know whether he’s being too rough or he’s just enough, is a joy to experience. The sensation of having your bodies that close and being in your personal space will make love fill him with delight.

Cowgirl for when he’s in a cheeky or relaxing mood. Mostly on days when you two are basking in the calm ambience of nature or the tranquillity of the moment, he’ll suggest that you ride him. Of course, there are moments when you request to be in control, he’ll sit back and watch you do your thing. Regardless, he fancies the position since it surrounds a more peaceful ambience with him being cheeky and playful. He’ll pull you down for kisses, run his fingers across your skin, squeeze your thighs and so forth.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is capable of expressing humour during the activity and seriousness when the moment calls for them. Humour would always be displayed on his cheeky and light-hearted days when both your spirits are high. Laughter during either of your slip-ups, maybe he was a bit clumsy, and you accidentally bumped heads; share a moment of laughter and enjoy the moment as it brings you closer and fills the intimacy with more pleasure and joy.

Maglor rarely displays his seriousness during an intimate moment, and it majorly occurs when you’ve been acting up and being all bratty or he’s stressed out and requires a route to blow his steam. In this case, laughter is off the book otherwise he’ll view that you aren’t taking his authority or stress seriously. During these moments, he is rougher, firmer and sharper with his thrusts. They are either calculated or random to dismiss all the tension he’s facing.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As normally mentioned, elves don’t have bodily hair, so Káno is completely clean. This means the carpet doesn’t exist to match the drapes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

The musician and performer of the family is the most romantic person of them all. Maglor will lay the rose petals out for you, the scented candles, wine and the music, all to set and keep the mood. But his most treasured form of romanticism is his words and voice during the build-up and moment. Soft kisses and caresses upon your kiss are accompanied by his flowery words and ocean voice. Fleeting touches that weigh a ton against your skin and words that shower you with an avalanche of unconditional devotion and appreciation.

His skin and lips will be attached to yours the entire time for missionary would be his preference on this occasion. He wants the eye contact to know that your stomach is performing somersaults and you’re weak in your knees. Show him how much he’s giving you through your eyes and he’ll reward you with praises and more.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I would consider him a bit low on the urge to masturbate before and after you entered his life. He isn’t sexually depraved and needy for your touch to constantly require your attention and care, nor is his appetite sky-high. However, when the urge kicks in, consider it a rare moment when you’ve been away from each other for a lengthy period and a thought of you ran across his mind. Maglor considers it wrong to pleasure himself without you being around due to his idea of intimacy being conducted between two individuals, but once he does get into the idea of pleasuring himself, it would be during your relationship. In his room, preferably in his own house and not surrounded by his nosy siblings, he’ll sit in a bath and relax his mind to images of you or your voice and work his way to his release.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Voice kink should not come as a surprise considering his beautiful voice. He loves nothing more than to put it to use when making you cum or riling your senses up. Light whispers against the shell of your ear while nibbling your lobe, whispering all the things he wishes to do to you and how he wants you to react for him. With the addition of his voice kink, he uses it for body worship to sing praises upon your magnificence and watch as you crumble under his gaze.

Bondage because he enjoys the moment when the rush of power gets to his head and you’re squirming around helplessly dependent on him. Just seeing you blindfolded with the beautiful ropes around your wrists and ankles, pinned to bed as he ghosts his lips across your body or as he drives his hips into you. All you’re able to do is squeal and cry out his name, begging for him to let you touch him.

Voyeurism is one kink he adores greatly, especially when he’s in a worshipping mood. He wants to look upon you as you learn to appreciate and love your body; grinning from ear to ear as your own touch brings you to great heights. His words will be in the mix telling you where to touch and how much pressure to add while he leisurely strums his harp as background music to set the mood. That, or he walked in on you touching yourself and decided to peep the show.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

In Valinor, he prefers the comfort and safety of his house. To him, his house is where all the intimacy and private affairs between couples occur, thus, he would like to keep it that way. You are very lucky IF you can convince him to have sex outside the house, perhaps on a picnic far away from civilisation and closer to the forest where it’s easier to conceal yourselves.

In Beleriand, it is always behind closed doors and only within the privacy of his premises. You aren’t getting him to sneak around outdoors or in the woods when orcs are lurking about and he’s literally the closest to Angband’s front door. For any romantic activity, he’ll ask you to politely conduct it behind closed doors since his entire life is on display for the world. At least allow his privacy to remain private.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Hearing you sing, moan or groan (even if it’s non-sexual). When you crane your neck and it elongates, he has the desire to sink his teeth and lips into your skin. Seeing hickeys from your previous session or inability to walk (he’ll joke about knowing how to treat your incapacitation). Wearing dresses with a sweetheart neckline accompanied by a necklace resting between your cleavage (for the females), fitted trousers that elongate your legs or his shirts (for both).

If in Valinor, he would become turned on whenever you played with children and cared for them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No extreme BDSM, branding or causing you to bleed. Nothing extreme to cause pain and actual tears.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Maglor has an oral fixation. Let that settle in so you’ll know exactly the good damage he can do when he goes down on you. Once he starts, he chooses when he’s ready to stop, and it isn’t anytime soon. He has no issue with spending hours down below, whether you’re sitting on his face or he’s on his knees, Maglor is enjoying his favourite part of his day. It is a mixture of the moans you’re able to produce when he’s eating you out that gets him into a headspace, refusing him to give up and allow your reprieve.

As for receiving, he isn’t denying your request to return the pleasure and will sit back and let you do your thing. At most, his hands will gently cradle your head, fingers weaving through your hair while you’re between his legs. He doesn’t guide you or anything, instead, you are left to go at your own pace. Mind you, approaching his high, he gets twitchy, hence his grip on your hair becomes tighter.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Káno can be everything all at once in the same session and it will always blow your mind because in the end, you are usually breathless. The power he contains as son of Feanor is outstanding, though he may not display it in the manner of his other siblings. However, for most of Maglor’s sessions, he is slow and sensual. His desire to express the devotion and appreciation he holds for you every day is dire. Maglor wants to show you in every way he can, that he loves you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is not subject to the topic at hand and welcomes the gesture when it arises, however, he does not engage in it often. Given the situation with the oath and war, his attention is at the forefront so thinking about sex and intimacy comes from your end. You are the one to approach and request for a quick moment before you depart and return to your dutiful duties. Quickies always happen in his studies and the majority of the time; this is where he hands over control and offers you the reigns. Maglor will sit back in his chair while you ride him till thy kingdom come.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The biggest risk I see him willing to take is indulging in threesomes and exhibitionism. For threesomes, he’ll partner with certain individuals he’s close with and whom he can get along with easily, preferably his older brother, Maedhros or a close cousin, Fingon or Finrod. As for exhibitionism, it’s usually done out of claiming you as his. His hidden possessive nature may spring out all of a sudden and his desire to ensure that a family member witnesses the dominating aura of him as he makes you scream and wright in pleasure would ensure.

 S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He doesn’t believe in the need to make love all night long to show you his devotion and passion. A simple three rounds, if you provoke him, he’ll give four for the entire night. This is as time passes and your relationship develops. In the earliest as newlyweds, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other and would spend nights into mornings making love like two horny birds. His stamina was otherworldly since you were discovering each other’s body and let’s also say that you were back in Valinor when the world was at peace, and he could spend forever in your arms.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not a big fan when his voice, fingers, and mouth are considered your playthings. They do the job far better than any contraption created since nothing could replicate the texture and sensation of his touch on your skin. But let us say there were a few toys around. Maglor would relish in a vibrator for when he has you strapped to the bed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This is the Kanafinwё Makalaurë, the most skilled and beautiful fair voice of all, who is mighty and the son of Mr Feener. He isn’t doing anything half-assed and if teasing ensures that his performance is sold and enjoyed, he’s teasing too until the very end. With his phenomenal strength, you WILL be pinned under his body as he drives into you with everything that he has, but always keeping you on the edge and begging for more. Edging is a kink of his I didn’t mention, so he’s going to constantly keep you on your toes, yearning. His favourite time to tease is whenever you’re being a brat. You give him all the excuses in the world to lay down his weapon.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Maglor is vocal, however he prefers to keep his notes on the low so yours can outshine his. Even when he is approaching his orgasm, he softly moans into your neck or ear. He is aware of how loud his voice can be, hence his name, so he does his best to keep it at bay, not wanting anyone to overhear (trust me, if he truly moaned, it would outshine yours and everyone would hear).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Maglor once allowed you to be dominant which led him to being tied to the headboard and earning the same treatment he normally gives to you when he’s in a teasing mood. For the first time, he had never been so aroused at your confidence and power as you took control in a new light over his body. It’s not something that occurs very often because you have a tendency of bragging about it to him which leads to you being shut up…very quickly.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

As a son of Feanor, he has a nice-sized package going on in his pants. Not too big and not too small. It’s just the right amount of thickness, length and weight that it rests within your walls, it moulds your insides just right. However, I must say that he has a slight curve closer to the head which makes excellent use when aiming for your sweet spot right off the bat and he’s also a grower. Nevertheless, he knows how to put his dick to good use and make you experience the best time of your life.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

During his years in Valinor, it was midway. Two to three times a week and as newlyweds, it upscaled. However, as the years rolled on by and a couple of duties came in, it decreased to twice a month as Maglor always ensured in other ways that you never felt unloved.

In Beleriand, it plummeted drastically once war entered the picture. Sometimes for months into years you two don’t sleep together, but when you do after such period, you can bet that it’s going to be a long night of reuniting with one another.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Maglor is what I’d like to consider, a daydreamer and thinker in one, thus his mind is brimming with thoughts after he’s finished a session. Firstly, he’ll ensure that you’ve been taken care of, speak with you until you’ve fallen asleep and then lie awake thinking. It takes him a long time before he dozes off to wonderland even if you’re snuggled up beside him. Sometimes he doesn’t sleep, and you’ll meet him in the same position wide awake. The times when he does drift off, he becomes cuddly and chooses to become the little spoon.

Masterlist

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

#silm smut #maglor #maglor x reader #maglor imagine #maglor smut #maglor headcanon #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion headcanons #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanons #middle earth smut #house of feanor #makalaurë #macalaurë #feanorians #sons of feanor #x reader smut #x reader insert #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[thelordofgifs]

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo: Round 1

Daeron vs Andreth

Daeron:

The minstrel of Doriath, noted for his invention of the Cirth and his friendship with (and betrayal of) Lúthien.

Daeron propaganda! If I had to sum it up in a few words I’d say “tragic sad musician! imagine the banger songs he’d write!” It pains to say this, but the Silm does say he was better than Maglor. And we all love Maglor and his song possibilities. So, Daeron here can upstage the Nolodantë—if we aren’t taking that as bias! How cool! Wandering off on your own and composing sad and beautiful songs is an artist MOOD. The Luthien thing was a little weird but at least sympathize with the sad unrequited.

The mans was an amazing musician and would have been giving our man Maglor a run for his money anyday. I think he's awesome and I would vote for him and his big heart 100 times over. I love that he's one of the characters with the obscure "deaths" where he simply disappears. I always love to dabble in the "what ifs" of their survival. But anyway, I might be (am) super biased because of ancient roleplay.

He is the greatest minstrel from the elven tribe distinguished for its musical talent. But the best part is he's Sindarin. He’s the one precious example of an elf who never saw the light of the Trees being extraordinary. Also, Tolkien gave him the honour of inventing an alphabet, the Certhas Daeron. Not just anyone gets to be a linguistic inventor in Tolkien’s mythology. As far as I’m concerned, his musical skill combined with his linguistic ability make him a JRRT-approved blorbo. As for his obvious fault (betraying Lúthien), in the Lay of Leithian, he, repenting for forgiven, helps Lúthien escape. She requests a loom (that she will use to weave her hair into her magic cloak) and he, despite fearing ”the fell purpose of her art” says nothing. He lets her go. And then he removes himself from the story, because it’s no longer about him. He invented the wandering, despairing, repentant minstrelsy lifestyle while Maglor was still happily kinslaying. He’s so misunderstood. He deserves this.

Andreth:

A woman of the First Age, one of the central characters of the Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth. In her youth she had a romance with Finrod’s brother Aegnor.

She's wise, she's angry, she's bitter, she's everything to me. Blorbo to end all blorbos.

Old philosopher woman who challenges elves about their understanding of reality

Round 1 masterpost

#obscure tolkien blorbo #queue #daeron #andreth

[sotwk]

hello! you mentioned before how Maereth is a descendant of one of Feanor's sons but you haven't revealed it yet and no one has guessed it yet either

in a spur of the moment (and adrenaline from lack of sleep and too much work) 🤣 i would like to take a guess... is it Maglor? I did some searching and it seems he is the only one among the sons to have been married and live long enough for Maereth be born around 553 years of the sun (based on the end notes of last chapter, greenleaf's day out)

(I hope I spelled the names correctly 😅)

I know this reply is a bit late, my Anon friend, but you have to believe me that I was MASSIVELY EXCITED so receive your message! I haven't been in a huge rush to make a big reveal about Elvenqueen Maereth, though a couple of other friends have shown interest in her "hidden identity". But it's been a year since I first started writing about her, and you are the first one to come forward with a guess about her lineage.

YOU ARE CORRECT! Mostly. Queen Maereth, beloved wife of Elvenking Thranduil, comes from the line of Fëanor through his second son, Maglor. But Maglor is not Maereth's father, but rather her maternal grandfather.

From her father's side, Maereth is actually half-Teleri, and is the granddaughter of another renowned elf-lord, Círdan! (In the SotWK AU, Círdan wed one of the granddaughters of Olwë, a Falmari who had done the unthinkable and crossed the Helcaraxë, following her cousin Galadriel.)

Ever wonder how Legolas (seemingly randomly) turned out to be a shipwright in the Fourth Age? There is your headcanon explanation. It's in his blood!

This also means the last ruler of Eryn Lasgalen, Thranduil's grandson and heir, Aranion, son of Mirion, carries the blood of all three groups of Calaquendi. (He has Vanyar blood from his mother, Itarildë.) Just one of my favorite bits of SotWK HC lore.

I would have to make a very long post (or several) to fully explain the lineage of Maereth. That's quite a project that will take some time. So for now, please enjoy the quick summary of her ancestry, along with my fancast for the OC and canon characters. <3

The Ancestry of Elvenqueen Maereth, wife of Thranduil: Fancast Visuals

MATERNAL GRANDPARENTS

Maglor, son of Fëanor / Velcálë "Vanandur", Noldorin Servant of Vana (oc)

Fancast: Ben Barnes as Maglor; Zendaya Coleman as Velcálë

PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS

Círdan, Lord of the Falas / Eäriel, granddaughter of Olwë (oc)

Fancast: Iain Glen as Círdan; Olivia Hussey as Eäriel

PARENTS

Eärondir, son of Círdan (oc) / Laurinwen, daughter of Maglor (oc)

Fancast: Alexander Skarsgard as Eärondir; Lily Collins as Laurinwen

ELVENQUEEN MAERETH

Wife of Thranduil, mother of Legolas, and Elvenqueen of the Woodland Realm

Fancast: Jennifer Connelly as Maereth

Please free to send me any Asks about these characters! Thank you again for the wonderful Ask and for your interest in the SotWK AU!

Elves HC Tag List: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @auttumnsayshi @blueberryrock @conversacomsmaug @elan-ho-detto-elan-15 @entishramblings @freshalmondpandadonut @fizzyxcustard @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @glassgulls @heilith @heranintomyknife23times @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @lathalea @lemonivall @LiliDurin @quickslvxrr @ratsys @scyllas-revenge @stormchaser819 @talkdifferently6 @tamryniel @tamurilofrivendell @spacecluster

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

#sotwk headcanon #sotwk fancast #the hobbit #thranduil #lotr #elvenqueen maereth #tolkien #thranduil headcanon #greenwood the great #sotwk oc #thranduilion #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #woodland realm #lord of the rings #maglor #silmarillion

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine being like Newt Scamander and showing your creatures to the elves.

(I had to do some research to get the names right, and I only managed to come with this three so no fourth one unfortunately, I hope you like it)

Requested by @a-contemplation-upon-flowers​

Warnings: None really, some wizardry and elven stuff and mystical creatures. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maglor

-He thought you were odd upon your first meeting. The bag you carried was oddly shaped, and he wasn’t sure what you would carry in there. 

-You called it a briefcase and a special kind too. Maglor was curious, but you did not elaborate further on what was inside – saying it’s a secret. 

-You were strange, the way you spoke and dressed was nothing he had ever seen, and he was curious about what was inside your briefcase, so he decided to befriend you. 

-You turned out to be a kind-hearted person despite your odd habits. He felt ashamed for thinking lowly of you. 

-You told him you had a task and wrote a book on how to live beside mysterious creatures and even care for them. 

-And that you were a sorcerer of a kind. 

-Maglor found the subject of your book peculiar, and he had seen you do magic with your wand, so he believed the latter even though it was unbelievable a human was capable of magic. 

-However, he was not ready to witness what was inside the mysterious briefcase when you finally said you trusted him enough to show him. 

-He was expecting you to show him an item of some sort, not you suddenly walking in and disappearing into the briefcase. When he hesitated, you showed your arm through and gestured for him to follow you. 

-Maglor looked in and saw stairs leading down, which was unbelievable, but when you called out to him. He cautiously went in and walked down the stairs.

-He found his way into your hut, where you prepared food of some kind and even scared him with a flying creature for shit and giggles. But when he stepped outside the next door – the shock arrived like a slap in the face when he saw the vast world of your briefcase. 

-He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around, looking at the several mysterious creatures, small and big, mysterious and beautiful. He roamed into every habitat to take a look, and you even allowed him to pet most of them. 

-It was like everything a little kid would dream of in one place. It was beautiful, and he finally understood the meaning of your book. 

-He could not help but smile and laugh when you allowed him to feed the Mooncalves, hold an Occamy, and even pet the strange Graphorns.  

-He even enjoyed watching the little Bowtruckles play around the tree. 

-It almost felt forbidden for him to be there. 

-He came up with several new songs when he was there — among your creatures. 

-He promised to help you find the creatures you lost in an accident and never said a word to anyone so your animals could be safe, and you were forever grateful for that. 

-He found your little performance odd and funny when you two were trying to capture the giant Erumpet, but — he did not like when he accidentally spilled the concoction upon himself and got the giant’s romantic attention. You had to save him on that part. 

-He will never get involved with Erumpets ever again. 

Fingon 

-He most likely met you after encountering one of your creatures. He had an unpleasant encounter and saw you chasing it with your briefcase. 

-Miraculously, you captured the beast and used magic which he thought was impossible for humans unless you were a sorcerer of a kind. 

-None of less, your meeting was accidental, and it was hard to brush him off when he became fascinated with you and wanted to know what you were hiding in your briefcase. 

-He also had some unfinished business with your Niffler as the creature had stolen something important from him, his father’s ring. 

-You agreed to help retrieve his ring if he helped you find the Niffler so you could return his father’s ring. 

-When you showed the inside of your briefcase, his reaction was like Maglor’s, full of wonder and amazement. 

-He would try to befriend most of your creatures, even the dangerous ones, so you had to watch him so he wouldn't accidentally get killed. Some of the creatures you saved were still aggressive from the hardship of the outside world. 

-He would be an eager listener when you tell all the stories about your creatures and how you rescue them. 

-He admired your resolve trying to save and find a way to teach people to live beside these creatures, so they wouldn't have to kill, and the latter wouldn't have to go to extinction. 

-You had even tamed a couple of creatures of Morgoth. Dragons and other creatures he thought were nothing but mindless beasts. 

-He adored the Bowtruckles and even allowed them to climb and play around his body. 

-When you went to look for your creatures that escaped, he was determined to help you and followed all the instructions to raise the success of each capture. 

-When you two finally found the Niffler, the capture turned out tricky as even you had some problems catching it.

-The little bugger even managed to steal one of his golden ribbons. 

-So, Fingon ends up using a little force out of frustration. He would never harm your creatures to upset you, but with your Niffler, his tolerance dropped low. You honestly didn’t blame him. 

-It was thanks to Fingon that the little troublemaker got finally caught.

-He was surprised how the little thief could fit so many valuables in its stomach when you grabbed its leg and forced the thing to empty itself. Your creature dropped enough pieces of jewelry and gold to fill out a treasure chest.

-He got his ring back, so it was all good in the end. 

Finrod 

-Human visitors were ordinary in Nargothrond. Finrod did not want anyone to feel ridiculed or alone, so he tried to make his kingdom for all types of people. 

-He thought you were just one of the commoners with a very peculiar bag. 

-He was curious, so he welcomed you and asked about it, and from that, he learned it was a briefcase. 

-He thought it was an ordinary encounter, but then he began to notice your odd absence. 

-Although he knew you had a room, you were nowhere to be found, neither among your people nor anywhere else.

-Some say you rarely came out of your room, and when you did – you would run away somewhere only Eru would know. 

-He became curious. But when some began to report you for suspicious activity. He took it upon himself to investigate because he believed there was a reasonable explanation for your behavior. 

-He did not expect to find your briefcase wide open and see stairs leading down, which should be impossible because there were no stairs under your floors. 

-He began to get suspicious, so he took a step to investigate where the stairs would lead him. 

-Finrod found his way to a hut filled with herbs and food that would not suit the mouths of ordinary people. It was strange. 

-He then found a door. He wasn’t sure what else he would find, but he decided to go for it and see what was behind it. 

-The world behind the door made his eyes widen with wonder and amazement. He found several strange yet beautiful creatures in habitats, and the noises made by the creatures sounded like songs to his ears. 

-He found you standing in rain, holding a wand that allowed you to create a parasol made out of magic, and above you flew a glorious golden bird with six wings. 

-The mighty bird let out beautiful sounds before it landed on the rocks upon your calls, allowing the rain to disappear and fill with sunlight. 

-He watched as you talked to the beast, letting it eat from your hand and affectionately petting its head. 

-It was beautiful until the bird saw him and screeched, alerting you of his presence. 

-You panicked when you saw the king of Nargothrond and tried to come up with an explanation. 

-Finrod calmed you down and assured you he was not a threat to you or your creatures, but he did demand an explanation of your visit and the meaning of your briefcase. 

-You told him everything. He listened and didn’t mind helping you feed some of the creatures while you told him why you came to Nargothrond. 

-He found joy wandering your mystical world. He was frightened by the giant two-headed snake, and he wasn’t much fond of the Niffler, who tried to steal the jewelry on him, even mistaking his hair for gold.

- He was awed by the giant two-winged horses, the Abraxans. They were simply humongous, and he did not know flying horses were possible. You were surprised when they allowed him to pet them because they were usually very proud creatures. 

-You were trying to find a couple of creatures that wandered into his kingdom. They were harmless, but people were not so much if they found them. Most people do not see your creatures in the brightest light. 

-Finrod offered to help since there had been strange happenings lately and thought maybe they were connected with your lost creatures. 

-The first thing you found was the demiguise.  

-It was surprisingly an easy capture because Finrod decided to befriend it, and it worked. He strolled back to you with the white-haired creature in his arms and asked what was next on the list. 

-The next thing was one of the occamy that inhabited one of the abandoned rooms. 

-Finrod was startled when he learned the beautiful blue-winged serpents could grow their size to fit the space of the current room because the occamy was massive. 

-The capture was tricky because of the occamy’s size and defensive nature. Finrod then concluded a plan when you told him occamies fall effortlessly asleep with songs. 

-So – he sang with his beautiful voice, and the occamy fell asleep, shrinking into the size of his hands. 

-It was a strange capture, but it worked, so you didn’t complain – but it was hard to convince Finrod to let you take the occamy because he didn’t want to disturb its sleep. 

-You were grateful for his help and thanked him for keeping the creatures safe from people. 

-Finrod was happy, but he wanted to try and befriend the rest of your creatures and pet them – so you had to stay in Nargothrond for a little longer.

#maglor x reader #fingon x reader #finrod #finrod x reader #silmarillion x reader #tolkien #silm fic #maglor headcanon #fingon headcanon #finrod headcanon #wizard/witch reader #middle earth x reader #middle earth #middle earth headcanons #silmarillion #maglor #fingon

[lamemaster]

The Silmarillion Elves Finding My Mutual's Blog

AN: why am I doing this? Lack of brain cells, I tell you. But here we go (lmk if you would like to be removed...I don't intend to offend anyone). A small gift for mutuals and feel free to add more blogs if needed.

Summary: How would characters from the Silmarillion react to finding my mutual's blogs. Purely based on my interpretation which may or may not be messed up.

@asianbutnotjapanese: the loremaster with all the records. Elrond and Finrod. Do I need to say more? This trio would sit together to appreciate all the writings together. A group that thrives together as they compare their findings.

Finrod's appreciation might originate in the form of odes complimented by the notes of his harp.

Kings and queens of reblogging stuff for easier access.

@doodle-pops: There's going to be a crowd here. But the chief guest of this gathering can be none other than Fingon. Accompanied by Glorfindel and Fingolfin (because I see you with that sugar daddy fic Mina).

I completely expect Fingon to encounter the blog, binge-read everything and then create his own the very next day (and yes, he will write the most cursed ships). This elf will create multiple other accounts to comment on the Fingon fics...Will jokingly compare the note count of his fic with that of Maedhros'.

Glorfindel is just another golden retriever. He will meticulously thank you and the rebloggers (celebrates humbly at his popularity). And he will be the one to send super sweet 'you're amazing' kind of asks to the writer.

Fingofin will become an established annon on the blog. No one knows it's him. His online personality is 180 from his real life. (He's got some ships and opinions and mans won't stop from stating them *aggressively*.

@a-world-of-whimsy-5: The Ainur. Sauron, Namo, and Irmo (Manwe and Eonwe are lurking) are here and they will read everything. Don't be surprised if you get a bunch of passionate Sauron requests by an 'annon' the next day. Very specific requests.

Irmo on the other hand reads even the spiciest fics with a poker face late at night. I can just imagine him laying with his phone in his hand as he scrolls through the blog. A quiet existence but don't be surprised when you wake up with 50 notes and a new followers.

Namo will start by restraining himself to the sfw fics but somehow ends up reading nsfw and goes down the rabbit hole. Next day the he can't look anyone in the eye (especially Manwe). Decides never to do that again only to come back for more (don't even bring him close to hurt no comfort, this Ainur cried for Luthien. He can't handle angst).

@wandererindreams: Ulmo, Manwe, Eru, and The Void. Just a merry group having existential conversations. You all would be sitting there with your copy of texts and believe me Eru will pull out receipts to prove shit.

The sight of the Void being hyped by all the extensive headcanons...chef's kiss. Literal black hole feels included in the fandom for the first time.

Manwe and Ulmo would be there with wisdom and appreciation for your deep contemplation. Both commenting their piece and views about the subject in lengthy comments.

Eru will be taking notes. I can envision Iluvatar, playing devil's advocate (ironic) and arguing against anything and everything. Eru likes hooman who challenge him (ask Numenorians).

@animatorweirdo: Maglor and Sauron. The second eldest Feanorian will be found blushing as he reads your works and he will revisit the blog in bouts of day-dreaming of his true love. Leaves adorable emojis in the comments.

Believe me, Sauron would get some pretty interesting ideas from all your sci-fi fics. Now he really really really needs a vampire plus werewolf SO so bad. This maia will flourish under all the attention given to him. Follows fervently but will like sparingly (he's got an image to maintain).

I would also spy a lingering Maedhros but he's got the tired mom energy so he'll be a flickering presence who remembers Tumblr once every 3 months.

Lamemaster: dead. Feanor or Finwe will smite me the second they see my blog.

#the silmarillion #writers and their muses #tolkien elves #we're fucked if this happens #Feanor will smite me #treat for mutuals