#silm fanfic

[cilil]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

𓄌 Characters/pairings: Caranthir & Fëanor, hints at potential Caranthir x Turgon 𓄌 Synopsis: Fëanor offers to craft accessories for his sons to wear at the next Feast of Horns. Caranthir has what he believes to be an unusual request. 𓄌 Warnings: / 𓄌 Oneshot (~1.2k words)

Carnistir had both dreaded and looked forward to this moment, though the former outweighed the latter. 

His father had announced that he would be crafting accessories for all of his sons for the next Feast of Horns, celebrating that the entire family would be in attendance for the first time, and promised that each of them could pick whatever they wanted and he would make it. 

For most, if not all of his brothers, it was an easy choice and they knew exactly what they wanted, or so Carnistir believed at least, but for him, it was more difficult. Not the choice itself, if he was honest with himself — he had an idea what he wanted — but he grappled with it regardless and disliked the idea of having to explain himself to his father. 

It wasn't Carnistir's first time participating in the Hunt. His brothers had dragged him along once before, with Tyelkormo in particular claiming that he couldn't miss it, and as was tradition for debutants, he had been among the Hunted. The greater battle had been with himself rather than the Hunters, finding himself strangely enchanted by the idea of being desired and pursued, while unable to admit it to anyone else and acting aloof to hide his inner turmoil. 

In the end Carnistir had successfully hidden in the woods of Oromë — no small feat as he liked to think, especially with Ainur participating in the Hunt as well — and rejoined his brothers at the end of the night. Nobody had bothered to inquire about his whereabouts after his declaration that everything had gone well, and he preferred it that way. Even so, the aftermath had left him with a sour taste in his mouth, his mind ever wandering to all the possibilities he had denied himself out of pride, shame and, as much as he hated to admit it, cowardice. 

But this Feast of Horns would be different. Carnistir had promised himself that it would. 

And then he had also learned that Turukáno would be a Hunter. 

I could hunt as well. Maybe alongside him, if he agrees to it.

Though perhaps I should be hunted instead to rectify my mistake. Any other choice would only be further cowardice.

Turukáno could hunt me. I think I would like it if he did. 

But why would he? Especially if Findaráto joins in as well. And he most likely will.

Such was the back and forth between the two warring forces in Carnistir's mind, unfulfilled desire raging against what he believed was his better judgement, yet his perceived lack of courage and bravery was what eventually tipped the scales in favour of the former. He was a son of Fëanáro after all, he couldn't hide in a corner while his brothers participated in the Hunt. 

Even so, choosing the Hunted meant that he would have to ask his father for a necklace or even a collar instead of horns or antlers, and Carnistir dreaded having such a conversation. 

Thus he made his way to Fëanáro's forge reluctantly when Nerdanel told him that it was his turn. He announced himself with a short, sharp knock and entered in tandem with his father's invitation to come in. 

Fëanáro was sitting at his workbench and bent over an elaborate sketch he was working on. A quick look confirmed that it was most likely Tyelkormo's gift, and Carnistir tried not to let his mien sour too much. Of course he's still busy with someone else. 

"Ah, Moryo," his father greeted him and looked up with a smile. "Do you already know what you would like or do you want to take a few more minutes to think?"

"I am ready," Carnistir replied curtly. It hadn't escaped his notice that Fëanáro appeared to be in good spirits, and he was about to ruin it all; but it was too late for second guessing himself. A plan of action had been made, and he would stick to it, come what may. 

"Very well. What are your ideas?" Fëanáro asked and finally reached for an empty sheet of paper to place on top of the sketch, ready to take notes. 

"I want a collar and I don't want gold."

Silence fell between them for a brief moment. 

"So you wish to join the Hunted?" 

"Yes." Carnistir pressed his lips together, ready to defend his choice, but his father took notes without further inquiry.

"Do you know which materials you want instead if gold is not to your liking?" he then asked conversationally. 

Carnistir gave a light shrug. He had thought of everything, every complaint or counterargument that might be brought against him for making what could be considered a strange choice for a Noldorin prince, but not the gift itself. 

"Something practical," he said eventually. 

Fëanáro smiled. "I hope you will allow me to craft a silver one then. I think it would look lovely on you." 

"Fine by me." 

More notes were added. 

"And what kind of details and ornaments do you want? Maybe some jewels or gemstones?"

Another shrug. "Plain." 

"You know you can choose freely, Moryo?" 

"Yes." Picking up on the hint, Carnistir thought about it again. "Lots of people have little charms attached to their collars, like antlers or spear-tips or arrowheads. I think I would like that too."

"Anything in particular?"

"A dagger." Inspiration came spontaneously, but for once Carnistir allowed himself not to overthink it. 

"And what about the gems?" 

"No gems. They sparkle too much." 

Fëanáro grinned at him. "Ah, I see. You don't want to make it too easy for the Hunters to spot you."

"Of course not."

"And you are right. A favour from one of the princes of the Noldor should not be won too easily after all." He wrote down more notes. "Anything else?" 

"No." Carnistir paused for a moment, then added, "I leave the rest to you, Father." 

"I shan't disappoint. If you like, you can have a look at my sketch in a few days — I will take some time to think about it." 

He nodded. "Thank you." 

They fell silent again, but no further words were needed. An unspoken understanding that the conversation had concluded hung between them, and Carnistir turned to leave. 

On his way out, he spotted another sketch at the very edge of the workbench, slightly crumpled as if it had been hastily swept aside in favour of Fëanáro's tools and the other notes and sketches he had made. To his surprise, this one depicted a collar as well, not too dissimilar from what he had asked for and imagined for himself. 

Unable to resist, he stopped and pointed at the sketch. "Someone else is joining the Hunted as well?" 

Fëanáro looked up to meet his inquisitive gaze, and his eyes sparkled with the same sort of mischief Carnistir would normally see in Tyelkormo and the Ambarussar. 

"That one is for me," he said, lips twitching as if he had to suppress a bout of laughter when he saw his son's shocked expression. 

Carnistir left the forge without another word, his cheeks flushing bright red. He needed a moment to process what he had just learned, only to decide that he neither needed nor wanted to know the implications of Fëanáro's words regarding his parents' relationship.

Well, he thought to himself, if I was wrong about Father, maybe I was wrong about Turukáno as well and he may hunt me after all. 

taglist: @blauerregen @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars @urwendii

#feastofhorns #caranthir #carnistir #feanor #fëanor #silmarillion #oneshot #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #cílil writes #my writing #again sorry i'm late

[sotwk]

About This Recommended Fics List:

All the Tolkien fanfics in this list meet the following qualifications:

Fandom: All-inclusive Tolkien (LotR, Hobbit, Silm, RoP) Type: One-shot Length: approx. 1,000-6,000 words Ship/Pairing: Any, including OCs and Reader Inserts Rating: G or PG-13 Content: No excessive angst, violence, or death. No unresolved stress. Happy endings only!

Disclaimer: I (@sotwk) have not personally screened all of these fics for their content. There may be triggers. Please read descriptions, take responsibility for your own media consumption, and observe the Golden Rule: Don't Like, Don't Read!

Link sources are either Tumblr or Ao3. Some Ao3 works are locked to registered users only.

This list of comfort fics is a collaboration and compiled through the recommendations of Readers. Thank you to everyone who contributed!

This remains a work in progress, and I will continue to accept recommendations. Please send them via DM, Ask, or Reblog. We need more, please!

Last updated: 1/23/2024

THE LORD OF THE RINGS

Aragorn

Hush Now by @entishramblings

Mirage @sileastral

Boromir

You’re the one who’s calling me to heaven by @cauliflowertree

A Shield Against the Snow by @scyllas-revenge

A Thief in the Night by @scyllas-revenge

The Floor Is Molasses by @scyllas-revenge

Anything But This by @minaturefics

Elrohir

Just a Little Longer by @theelvenhaven 

Elrond

The Weft Between the World by Antarctica_or_bust

Eomer

Alive and Alight by @minaturefics

Fair Enough by @middleearthpixie

Wildest Dreams by @scyllas-revenge

Blue Moon by @epilogue-and-prologue/@absentmindeduniverse

Eowyn

An Idiot's Guide to Gift-Giving by @scyllas-revenge

Faramir

Wrong Conclusions by @minaturefics

Frodo

Arda University by @lady-of-imladris

Over Joy by PurpleProsaist

Gandalf

Days for which they sit and wait by BloodwingBlackbird

Gimli

Mahal's Gift by @lemonsprite

Haldir

Unfairness by @errruvande

Serenade by @glassgulls

Three Weeks on the Nimrodel by @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras

Legolas

Sending Memes by @ironmandeficiency

Elucidative by @shrubdaddy

Winter Forest by @wordbunch

The Cruel Nature of the World by @entishramblings

What Haunts Your Heart by @entishramblings

Lindir

Bottled Up by @heilith

Merry [Seeking recommendations!]

Pippin [Seeking recommendations!]

Samwise

Better Company by @wordbunch

Let Met Take You Dancing by RaisingCaiin

THE HOBBIT

Bilbo

Primary Sources by bunn (@cycas)

Why Hobbits Eat So much by Madkat89

Fili 

Sweets by @blairsanne

Lost My Way by @lathalea

Kili

Sapphires by @lathalea

Catch Her by a_daydreaming_writer

Porridge by @fili-urzudel

Insecurities by @bookworm-with-coffee

Tauriel 

Royal Jar Opener, Reporting for Duty by @unendingwanderlust

Heavenly Inferno by midearthwritings

The Pairing Ceremony by dumbassunderthemountain

You Are My Happy Place by SmartassUndertheMountain

Liantë by WritingsOfAHobbit

Thorin

In The Woods of Ered Luin by @enchantzz

A Long Lost Home by @babe-bombadil

Dead End by @fizzyxcustard

The Arrival by @lathalea

Strong by @lathalea

Thranduil

Nothing by @entishramblings

Goodnight by @heilith

Under A Starless Sky by My_Marvel_Musings and RinzlersGhost

THE SILMARILLION

Finrod 

here, at the end of all things by Dalliansss

Glorfindel 

Warmth by @on-a-hill-by-the-sea

Stay the Night by @theelvenhaven

Golden by molerein 

THE RINGS OF POWER

Elrond

My shadows by @thesolarangel

Dating shy Elrond by @thesolarangel

Perfectly Proper by @wordbunch

Haladriel 

Stay by @scriberated

Covered in Colours by myfavouritelunatic

It’s the Last Thing I Wanted (It’s the First Thing I Do) by Helholden

Stay by @scriberated

Covered in Colours by myfavouritelunatic

It’s the Last Thing I Wanted (It’s the First Thing I Do) by Helholden

Divider credit: @saradika-graphics

Please remember to Support Your Writers and consider leaving a kudos/like or comment/reblog!

#tolkien fanfiction #fanfiction #comfort fic #fanfic rec #fic rec list #tolkien fic rec #lotr fanfiction #lotr #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #silmarillion #silm fanfic #rop #rings of power #rop fanfiction

[potatoobsessed999]

Finrod Felagund. "Philosophic discourse regarding the enmity of Orcs with Elves." The Philosophy of Finrod Felagund. 2nd ed., edited and translated by Vardamir Nólimon, Armenelos, S.A. 130.

[Ed. note: Private papers of Finrod Felagund. Written in his own hand. Dated to the season of Firith in the year 455, shortly before the Dagor Bragollach.]

Fact: According to the lore of our people from the days of Cuiviénen, the Enemy fashioned Orc-kind by his torture and slow corruption of Elven captives.

Question: How did our people learn this lore? Can it be that any ever escaped from the depths of Utumno to serve as witness?

Fact: In the lore we got of the Valar there is to my knowledge no teaching regarding the origins of Orc-kind.

Conjecture: It may be that our lore is not reliable on this point.

Fact: There are a few among us who dwelt at Cuiviénen, and others of their number abide yet in Aman; none of them have to my knowledge disputed the accuracy of our lore on this matter.

Fact: The fëar of Elves and Men have their differences from one another, but none so fundamental as the distinction between the fëar of the Eruhíni and the spirits of the non-speaking creatures. The spirits of non-speaking creatures cannot properly be called fëar, as the distinction in question is one of kind and not of degree. (Indeed fëar cannot be spoken of at all in terms of degree or size, as each fëa is itself indivisible.)

Fact: The lore we got of the Valar tells us that the fëa cannot be destroyed by any means.

Fact: Also of that lore, we know that the Enemy cannot truly create, only twist in mockery what has been created.

Fact: Also of that lore, we know that the Dwarves have their fëar of Ilúvatar alone, and not of Aulë. Before the granting of their fëar they could not speak, nor had they any will of their own, but could only obey the will of Aulë.

Fact: Orcs speak, and there is sense behind their words.

[continued on Ao3]

#finrod #finrod felagund #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silm #silmarillion #the silmarillion #tolkien #tolkien fanfic #tolkien fanfiction #my writing #my fic #in which finrod is a NERD and also a very good heart #in-universe philosophy as angst is after all his Thing (as well as andreth’s) #finrod is my son and i give him my orc emotions. i do this because i love him

[dalliansss]

“We need to dispose of this creature,” Curufin says, mirroring Celegorm’s sentiment.

“Do you think we can eat it?” Finrod wonders out-loud. “Steaks.”

Curufin rolls his silver eyes so hard, Turko briefly worried they might pop out of his head. “Ingoldo, do you remember when you first encountered potatoes? Yes? You ate them raw and food poisoned yourself. We are not eating anything wrought by Morgoth’s foul sorcery. Away with the idea!”

Finrod pouts mightily and harrumphs. Then Edrahil calls the King for an urgent matter, and the golden one flounces away to follow his captain. Turko shakes his head.

“Only one elf mad enough to suggest to try eating a godsdamn dragon,” Turko says, bemusement in his tone.

Curufin crosses his arms. “I’m dumbfounded you hadn’t suggested it first, hanno.”

“Are you shitting me? With the stink this creature has? Not even my most rabid dogs will want a piece of it.”

[Dragonsmoke / AO3]

#silmarillion #silm #silmarillion fanfiction #silm fanfic #finrod #curufin #celegorm #celebrimbor #finrod felagund #tolkien #my drabs #frogpiss and ugly

[sillysistersusi]

Because they loved us so

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Celebrimbor & Elrond

Summary: Elrond and Celebrimbor braid each others hair and talk about the family they have lost.

Celebrimbor laughed as he continued to braid Elrond's hair. "Uncle Maglor did what?"

Elrond wiped a tear away from under his eye, for he had laughed so hard that his eyes had begun to water. "Yes, Maedhros was anything but enthusiastic about it, but in the end even he could not help but grin."

"I really did not think Maglor would be so bad at baking, because he is not bad at cooking at all," Celebrimbor said gently. "Atya was actually marvellous at baking, even if he did not do it often." He fell silent.

Celebrimbor hadn't wanted to talk about Curufin at all. It was the one subject that was taboo in his mind. He almost never spoke of his father anymore, as much as he felt the need to. Not after everything that had happened.

His hands became still in Elrond's hair.

Like every time he thought of his father, Celebrimbor was overcome by this incredible surge of emotion.

His mind always thought briefly of the beautiful moments. How Curufin had taught him how to forge, how he had cuddled him in the evening until he fell asleep or how he had put a protective arm around his shoulders.

But then his thoughts always drifted to another time. A time when his father was under so much pressure to please Fëanor that he only worked and hardly had any time left for his family. Then came the memories of the battles and how his father had sometimes returned covered in blood and just sat there staring at the ground for a while. Once Celebrimbor had gone to Curufin at such a moment, hoping to help him, and Curufin had pressed his face into the side of Celebrimbor's hair and cried. Celebrimbor had never seen his father cry before.

After that came the memories where Curufin was... was different. Meaner. Celebrimbor had decided then to stop blindly trusting and following him.

But to this day, he wondered if that had been the right decision.

"It is all right." said Elrond, who was still sitting with his back to him, obviously to give him some privacy, something Celebrimbor was very grateful for, because as always when he only thought about Curufin, he had started to cry.

Carefully, he leaned against Elrond's shoulder from behind and buried his face in his neck. "Sorry. I- I should have known not to mention him, and now I have ruined everything."

"No, my friend. It is all good. "Elrond gently placed a hand on Celebrimbor's knee. "If you want to talk about it, that is fine. He was your father and you loved him incredibly. And I am sure he loved you too, always."

"I just miss him so much, you know?" Celebrimbor stammered softly and Elrond nodded. He understood all too well. He also missed Maglor and Maedhros. Sometimes, when he lay in bed at night and couldn't sleep, he thought he could hear Maedhros' rough voice saying goodnight and Maglor singing a lullaby. He always fell asleep immediately afterwards, with a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes.

But he also missed Elwing and Eärendil, even if his memories of them were few and hazy, he felt a longing in his chest for them.

"Sometimes I think about whether I could have saved him if I had gone with him," Celebrimbor whispered softly and sniffled. "Maybe it would have been all right then."

But Elrond knew that probably wouldn't have happened. "I have seen the effects of the oath on Maedhros and Maglor. No matter how much Curufin loved you, the pressure of the oath would have destroyed him sooner or later. And I am sure he would have pushed you away before that happened, precisely because he loved you so much."

"But if it is so clearly the truth, why does it hurt so much?" Celebrimbor pressed himself tighter against Elrond, because whenever he felt so helpless, all he wanted was to be surrounded by the warmth of someone he cared about.

"I guess it hurts because you loved him as much as he loved you," Elrond replied softly. He wished he could do more to help his friend.

"I am really sorry for crying all over you." Celebrimbor said quietly and full of shame. He lifted his head slightly.

"As long as you need me, I will be here to catch you, just like you do for me and all our other friends. You cannot always be strong, Tyelpë," Elrond whispered. "I am the last person who would tell you not to cry."

So Celebrimbor pressed his face back into Elrond's neck and wrapped his arms around his waist to press himself even closer to him.

#silm fanfic #silmarillion #silmarillion fanfiction #elrond #Celebrimbor #tyelpe #tyelpë #telperinquar #fanfic

[isilwhore]

For @maedhrosmaglorweek Day 6, an AU that fixes nothing and makes everything worse (sorry)

****

“…but less evil shall we do in the breaking.”

Maglor knows his argument has been lost. Still, one final plea is cast upon the night’s wind:

“Please.”

But Maedhros does not stop, nor look back. He only answers, “I need you.”

Maglor swallows back a response. His brother has seen the Darkness. He carries a piece of it with him. It usually lies just beneath the surface, under his control; lately it has shown itself more frequently, more fiercely than ever.

And Maglor understands. He pities him, defends him, loves him. He always has. But he can no longer follow him. It pains him to think it and now to speak it, and it only comes forth with every bit of courage and strength he can muster.

“I cannot do it.”

He collapses to the ground, weeping. His cries are not deep and piercing like his singing, but weak and pitiful, barely registering in the silence.

Maedhros turns to him with a fiery stare. Maglor recoils from this wretched, familiar flame. He has seen it many times; it takes them all, eventually.

“You are bound by our oath. Our brothers died for this.” His voice is powerful yet empty.

“Then let me fail, as I failed to save them.” Maglor chokes over these words; he will never forgive himself for it, even though they were doomed to their fates. “I am ready to face judgment. I want to go back.”

When he feels the blade press against his neck, Maglor knows his brother is gone. The madness has finally claimed him, and soon he too may become no more than ash in the wind.

“Please, Nelyo,” he shivers. He thinks briefly of their father and shakes the memories away. Then he recalls the boys he raised as sons; how he loved them and sent them out into the world with everything he could teach them, sent them far away from his weary heart. That is how he saved them. But saving Maedhros may be beyond Maglor’s power.

Maedhros lowers his sword and stands completely still, save for the rise and fall of his broad chest. His eyes are ablaze. And empty.

“Nelyo, you are broken, we are broken. Nothing may mend you now but I love you still. Come with me, or let me go. I beg you.”

He reaches out to touch him, to graze his scarred cheek or smooth back his hair, which has grown wild during their roaming. But Maedhros pulls away in agony, as if his brother’s hand is a torch.

“It will be over soon. We shall end this! Together.”

“No, please no! Come back to me, Nelyo!” Maglor fears the madness will overcome him now too. He wishes for it to come quickly; perhaps this would be easier if he had already lost his mind. He lets out a wail and leaps at his brother. He grabs for his once fine cloak, now weather worn and ragged, a last desperate effort to shake sense into him, or hold him or…

It is a mistake, for Maedhros has quick reflexes and the flame sparks and overtakes him. A flash of silver, a flash of red.

And now it is too late to save either of them.

Although it takes no time for Maglor to fall, it feels like centuries. An indescribable sound escapes Maedhros, like a terrible roar, deeper than the ocean and darker than the Void.

Maglor realizes he is dying and it is a strange relief. His mouth moves quickly, silently, one last song upon his lips.

“Thank you.”

His eyes open wide and catch their final sight: his brother, his Nelyo as he once was. Maglor had pitied him, defended him, loved him. He always had.

“I never meant to hurt you. Some peace for you now, I hope.” Maedhros holds him and sobs and it feels like centuries.

“But no peace do I deserve. Now you will meet your judgment, and I shall never face mine.”

#maedhrosmaglorweek #cw character death #maedhros #Maglor #the silmarillion #silm fanfic #been a loooong time since I wrote anything over 100 words! #I was actually nervous to post this lol

[ettelenethelien]

During his lifetime, Isildur had always been hailed as a hero. It started very early, that, with the theft of the sapling, and this was never forgotten. And later, after his death, legend added to legend; his prowess in battle, the bravery of his youth, the kingship he wielded, merging into one foundational myth. The Isildur who had once lived might have been glad rather than embarrassed at the statues and songs, but he might have wondered at the long lasting of legend. He might have felt unease at how his failures were all but forgotten. But the dead do not worry about their legacies, though they might know of them.

Near the end of the Third Age, one of his failures was brought out from the depths of history, and suddenly, learned men begun to wonder and rewrite their histories. They did not forget the White Tree, they did not forget the Dagorlad, but the tale they now told became a cautionary tragedy of pride. Not merciless, pitying rather, in most of their mouths, but with the center of weight firmly fixed on that one decision no mortal man could have avoided.

They never painted Isildur as he was, child of the land of mortal dreams that turned to nightmares before his eyes, almost rashly daring youth, leader and king in exile, and all the same man. One who could be obnoxiously proud, but who would have overcome this fault had he not had the misfortune to find the Ring; one who sought to amend this at last -- and who would not have, likely, succeeded in giving the Ring up, but who died with the wish to do so. One who, unlike other characters of legend, regretted the dragging of his own into his mistakes; one who had a lucky end and died terribly, and ignobly, and well. But a king must resign himself to becoming a legend, and he was a king who was a man.

#my post #my fanfic #Tolkien #Silmarillion #lotr #tolkien fanfic #silm fanfic #Isildur #númenor

[lvsifer]

the sweet & talented @cilil tagged me on WIP Wednesday, so have a lil snipped from the next chapter of my Paul x Feyd fic <3

Feyd-Rautha lies down on the bed, closes his eyes and thinks of the boy. Reflected red light slashes the tenebrous room in half, a laceration that cuts Feyd-Rautha off by the chest. He touches where the light warms his skin just above his seventh rib and dips his fingers between his costal arches. Here. He imagines Paul’s blade push inside. He moans. “Come to me, Atreides,” Feyd-Rautha murmurs into the empty room, then throws an arm over his face, bites at his own skin enough to bruise while his free hand sinks between his legs. What if the secret door opened and the boy came to him now? Feyd-Rautha imagines Paul’s lesser weight on top of him, spreading Feyd-Rautha’s thighs.

And ALSO, this super old angbang wip from...2016..........that I will finish...some day:

Yet in gloaming Melkor had once more returned, gargantuan and of-augury. A light had shone in his eyes, both fiery and frore. Naught of offering or promises foul, only this: his hand extended, and crackling along the whiteness of his skin, power. And Mairon had taken it. For what Mairon wants is not to serve. He wants to make. Suddenly he needs not pledge himself. Nil binds him, but his own will to power. Torn from slumber, he for the first time sees, and stares into the depths of the world. And deeper than woe or servitude, cradled in igneous rock, lie his own blackening desires, clamouring for eternity. And eternal shall they be.

tagging: @sauron-kraut (i know cilil also tagged you but still <3), @jamlocked, @liesmyth, @saintstars, @crackinthecup, @curufiin @theskeletonprior

#wip wednesday #feydpaul #paulfeyd #paul x feyd #paul atreides x feyd rautha #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #paul atreides #dune #dune fic #dune fanfic #angbang #melkor #mairon #seduction of mairon #silmarillion #silm #silm fanfic #also yes absolutely referencing Nietzsche in my angbang fic. what about it.

[sauron-kraut]

Summary:

He remembers the labour and pain of creating a body. Of giving birth to himself when the world was new.

Mairon and Thuringwethil visit Melkor in Angband, a good time ensues. Mairon thinks back on his creation.

Yes, I went there and let them have a threesome.

Hey, for once (almost) everyone is having a great time, which nearly never happens in my fics.

How did they end up like that, you ask? I have no idea. I'm taking suggestions.

Not beta'd!

Warnings: explicit, child death, mild gore, they're their own warning

#mairon #sauron #melkor #thuringwethil #angbang #mairon x thuringwethil #my writing #m writes #silmarillion #the silmarillion #silmarillion fanfiction #silm fanfic #tolkien fanfiction #tolkien fanfic #ficlet #not beta'd

[furious-haste-of-malice]

AN: I promised to write a little something for @sortumavaara a while ago, so here it is! Based on and inspired by this artwork.

dark romance prompts

♡ prompt: taboo & overstimulation (rare pair bingo) | Glorfindel x Erestor ♡ synopsis: Glorfindel wants - needs - Erestor and hatches a new plan to make it happen, even if it means breaking a few teeny tiny rules and taboos ♡ warnings: highly dub-con/non-con, aphrodisiacs, obsession, unhinged horny & delusional Glorfy ♡ short oneshot (~800 words)

The thought that he shouldn't do this had crossed Glorfindel's mind. 

But the voice of reason had, in time, been drowned out by his desire, no, need to bed Erestor again, a feeling that had taken over his very mind and every waking thought. 

It was perhaps, as Glorfindel had also considered, not entirely right to feel this way, yet such a notion again did little to dissuade him; in fact, he had always found it rather arousing to break rules and taboos. 

And his favourite lover would enjoy it, he was certain. 

Erestor's cheeks were flushed bright red and his breathing was heavy. An empty tea cup sat in front of him, nearly getting knocked over as he sluggishly attempted to prop himself up and rise from his chair. 

"Glorfindel... not this again..."

He was slurring his words and sounded almost petulant, causing Glorfindel to smile, endeared by the display. 

"Yes, beloved. I promised we would try again, didn't I?"

Instead of waiting for a response, he picked up the smaller ellon and carried him over to the bed to begin undoing his robes. Erestor mumbled a few words of weak protest, but Glorfindel opted to stroke the growing bulge between his legs to soothe him. 

"I know it's not easy," he said softly. "After you were so tense last time, I prepared this tea for you. It should make it easier for you to take me. And I'll be careful, I promise." 

All Erestor managed was a groan while his remaining clothes were removed, and Glorfindel quickly discarded his own as well. Despite not having consumed the stimulating beverage himself, his cock was already hard as well, standing between his legs with the pride and poise expected from an accomplished warrior like himself. 

Erestor gulped and tried to rise, but Glorfindel swiftly moved to sit behind him and gathered him in his arms. 

"Let me show you how good it can feel when you're relaxed and ready," he cooed, grasping his lover's thighs to spread his legs wide open. 

Two fingers made their way in-between before Erestor could attempt to close them and gently prodded his entrance. Glorfindel found that he was indeed wet, as was the intended effect of the concoction he had slipped into his tea, yet not quite leaking. The amount of lubrication might still be insufficient to fit his entire length inside that tight little hole, but he was certainly willing to try. 

Placing his hands on the underside of his thighs, he lifted the smaller ellon up to place him on his lap and align his cock with his entrance, and Erestor squirmed in his grasp. 

"No, please," he protested weakly. "Please, my lord. I-I can't. And I promise I won't tell anyone – ah-!" 

Glorfindel attempted to shush him with a kiss, but his lips brushed against his cheek instead as Erestor turned his head to the side. His breath came in heavy gasps upon being breached, taking the warrior's large cock inch by inch. 

"Ssshhhh. You're doing so much better already," Glorfindel praised, holding him in place when he felt resistance. "Look, you managed to take half of me this time!"

"Stop – ngh – please... ah..." Erestor tried once more, but his pleas were soon reduced to small moans and gasps as Glorfindel began to move inside him. 

"We'll up the dosage next time," he reassured him, whispering in his ear. "Then it'll feel even better and you'll be able to take all of me. Doesn't that sound good?" 

He received no reply, but that suited him just fine. With every thrust, his world shrank more and more until it was reduced to the wonderful feeling of hot, wet tightness around his cock, exactly like he had imagined it. Glorfindel barely noticed that Erestor came soon after, and it didn't deter him either; he was simply too sweet when he tried and failed to beg for reprieve and could do nothing except take his cock over and over and over again. 

He loves it, he reminded himself, and one day he'll admit it too. 

Letting out the occasional indulgent moan to inform his lover of his boundless enjoyment, Glorfindel continued to bounce him on his lap and fuck him open until he'd had his fill. 

"You always feel so wonderful, Erestor," he breathed when he released inside him, accentuating his words with a gentle, almost chaste kiss on his cheek. 

Erestor was silent, and his chest was heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. Glorfindel placed him on the bed and lay down as well, admiring him. 

"Do you even know how beautiful you are? How cute and precious and delicious?" he continued and leaned down to pepper his face with more kisses. "I can never resist you, beloved..." 

Thanks for reading!

#glorfindel #laurefindele #erestor #glorfindel x erestor #glorestor #lotr #lord of the rings #lotr fanfic #silmarillion #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #cílil writes #my writing #smut #dark romance prompts #tw noncon #cw noncon #dead dove do not eat

[cilil]

It comes in Threes

✍ Prompt: Throuple + veni vidi vici | Arien/Eönwë/Melkor x Mairon ✍ Synopsis: On Almaren, Mairon finds various lovers; in his hubris, he wants them all. ✍ Warnings: Mairon is a little shit ✍ Triple drabble ✍ SWG archive

The first time Mairon acquires a lover, it is purely by happenstance. 

It is Arien who seeks him out, who comes to him when he is by himself and makes the effort to get to know him. 

He is the only fire spirit left beside her, and she desperately craves a companion who understands her, Mairon knows. But he too grows fond of her — her grace, her pride, her temper, her nature that is so similar to his own. 

And it's a comfortable position to be in, to be sought after by one of Almaren's most admired and desirable Maiar.

Eönwë has been watching them, both him and Arien. Mairon has long since seen his longing glances and observed his attempts to be near either of them, visiting Vána's meadows and Aulë's forges to talk to them under some pretence. 

His attention, too, is flattering, much like Arien's, as he's the chief of the Maiar and renowned for his strength in battle. 

Arien thinks of him as a cute little toy. Mairon agrees. They decide together that they want him. 

Eönwë is overjoyed when they embrace him, having expected rejection; yet now he's a part of the love he desired. 

Melkor has little consideration for Mairon's Maiarin lovers and thinks himself the victor of any competition before it has even begun. 

At first Mairon is irate and rejects him, but later he begrudgingly sees a strange wisdom in his stance. For would he not be a fool to trade a Vala for a few Maiar, lovers he so easily acquired no less? 

To become Melkor's would be effortless, Mairon thinks, but to claim him on his own terms would be a challenge. 

The willful Vala has his own plans, but in his hubris, he wants him for his collection still. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @angbangbaby @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @destinyeternity1 @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @melkors-defense-attorney @saintstars @sauron-kraut @singleteapot @stormchaser819 @urwendii @wandererindreams

#mairon #sauron #arien #eonwe #eönwë #mairon x arien #mairien #eonwe x mairon #melkor x mairon #angbang #maiar #ainur #triple drabble #silmarillion #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #cílil writes #my writing #swg challenge #swg it comes in threes

[demonscantgothere]

(You and I) Drink the Poison from the Same Vine. Morgoth | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon. Explicit. 6.9k | 3.6k chapter [2/4]

From Almaren, to Utumno, to Angband, to Tol-in-Gaurhoth — all of his life, Mairon has been running.

“I’ve always been that,” Mairon shot back. “Do not mistake simple ignorance for innocence—” “Yes, you have,” came the softer agreement, “but now you are mighty. I would have hardly called you ignorant in those days—” “—Yes, you would have,” Mairon snapped, grasping Melkor’s chin in a way that mimicked the hold the Vala had on him during their first kiss, digging his nail into the flesh of his lover’s cheek. “You were forceful.” “Yes, I was,” Melkor agreed in a mere whisper, his usually bright eyes quite dark this time, absorbing in all of the shadows instead of the light. “I had to test your mettle,” the Vala then murmured. “See what the Admirable was truly made out of . . . ”

Keep Reading

#angbang #melkor x mairon #mairon x melkor #silm fic #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #melkor #mairon #my fic

[who-needs-words]

I’ve got a proposal? Challenge? Experiment? For russingon shippers.

I’m fairly ambivalent towards the ship. They’re such a common ship that they slip into a number of the fics I’ve read- but rarely if ever the focus. I’ve reblogged art and read the meta. But I never seek out content.

What fic recs will change my mind from ‘eh’ to ‘oooh’

#eli rambles #russingon #maedhros #fingon #russandol #findekano #findekáno #silm #maedhros x fingon #the silmarillion #silmarillion #maitimo #the silm #tolkien #silm fic #silm fanfic #I tagged as much as I could I really want to see how this goes #to be clear: while I dislike that they’re half cousins I’ve come to accept that in this fandom #I don’t hate the ship #not really #it’s just isn’t my jam #this is an experiment to see if that can be changed

[elficially-done-with-life]

Forever Together

Pairing: Argon x Reader

Summary: You and Argon share a quiet moment together while travelling over the Helcaraxë.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You felt like your skin was on fire as Argon's warm hands stroked over your exposed skin. It seemed so long ago since you had last felt his warmth.

It had been a long time. You had set out on the ice several weeks ago, but you had rarely rested, and when you had, Fingolfin had assigned your husband some sort of task. Of course you understood that this was important for your survival, but you still felt cold and abandoned sometimes.

Argon seemed to notice that. While you continued to fight your way through the snow during the day, Argon, who always walked in front next to his father, fell further back to take your hand for a moment. His fingers clasped yours and the ice no longer seemed so cold to you.

After a while, Fingolfin had decided that you would have to take a longer rest, as all of you were getting slower and slower due to your exhaustion, making you even more vulnerable on the open road than you already were.

So you put up some tents to protect you from the cold and you tried to get some sleep.

When you fell asleep you were freezing, but when you woke up you could smell Argon's familiar scent and feel his hands gently rubbing every bit of skin they could find to keep you warm.

You kept your eyes closed for a moment. You had missed his gentle touch so much.

The warm days in Valinor when you had picnicked or gone swimming in the lake together seemed centuries ago.

"I know you are awake," he whispered and kissed you gently on the forehead. You could hear the smile in his voice. He pulled his hands away and let himself slide under the covers behind you.

You whimpered softly and snuggled back against Argon. "Please do not stop."

He laughed softly. "Do not worry, my love, I will prevent you from freezing to death." He wrapped his strong arms around you and turned you round so that the tips of your noses were touching.

His warm breath brushed over your face and drove away any feeling of cold. "Do not worry, Melda." Argon whispered and kissed you softly. His hands gently stroked down your body, from your cheeks to your hips, where he pulled you even tighter against him. "Tonight I am all yours."

He winked.

"Arakáno!Turukáno, Elenwë and Itarillë are right in the tent next to us. So we won't be doing anything like that." you said, but you had to smile.

When Argon saw your smile, he let out a pleasant sigh. One of his hands travelled back up to your face and gently stroked your lips to trace your smile.

Then he leant forward and kissed you again. At first his lips brushed only lightly over yours, but soon his kisses became firmer and more passionate. He pushed himself off the ground a little and carefully rolled onto you.

Your hands stroked through his hair and soon found their way to his cheeks.

You let out a surprised noise. "Arakáno?" You broke away from him. "Oh, why are you crying."

His cheeks were full of tears.

Argon's fingers gently stroked your cheek as he looked down at you.

"Because you are only here because of me. You deserve better than a tiny tent in the cold, wet snow. I am so sorry that I cannot give you more."

"Oh Arakáno." You gently took his face into your hands and began to brush away his tears with your thumbs. "Do not blame yourself."

"But it is true." His other hand found its way to your hair and stroked softly over it.

"Yes," you said softly, "I am here because of you. I am here because I love you anb because I cannot bear to live apart from you. I would make that decision again if it meant having you by my side. Because Valinor would be colder than the Helcaraxë without you, Arakáno."

He looked at you from his gentle eyes as more tears ran down his cheeks. "Thank you," Argon finally said, "Thank you for being by my side."

"Let us always stay together, no matter where we go," you said softly, wrapping your arms around him.

Argon lowered his head onto your chest, a position you don't normally lie in as he was so huge, while you gently stroked his hair.

"It will be all right, my dearest Arakáno."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#arakano x reader #argon x reader #arakáno #arakano #argon #tolkien x reader #x reader #elves x reader #tolkien #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #nolofinwëans x reader #nolofinwëans #silm x reader #silm fanfic #underrated elves of the silmarillion

[dalliansss]

From behind them stepped out three elves, all of them looking worse for wear than her Beren, but their individual beauty remained undimmed despite their matted, tangled and bloodied hair. There is her kinsman Finrod, who beamed in recognition upon seeing her. A brown-haired and green-eyed Noldo behind Finrod looked at her in awe, but then offered a bow. Then, behind the two of them stood a very tall Noldo with fiery red hair the likes of which Luthien had never seen before. He was bloodied all over: his face, his chest, his hands and arms. But Luthien knew the blood was not his own, but that of a werewolf, or perhaps a vampire. This Noldo was scarred everywhere: shoulders, on his middle, by the sides of his hips. Luthien knew then that this must be Maedhros, eldest son of Feanor, whose fury against the Enemy and the enemy’s forces were sung by minstrels, even Daeron. All the elves were as naked as Beren, but they were unbothered by it.

“My lords,” Luthien briefly touched her right hand over her chest, then held it out to them in a gesture of greeting and friendship. “My heart sings that Huan and I reached this place before it was too late, and though I mourn those whom we can no longer help, I sing for them also, for they will suffer no more. I am glad you are alive with Beren, and that you have aided him. I am Luthien of Doriath.”

“Princess Luthien,” Finrod returned her greeting. “I would be embarrassed meeting you like this, but we make do.” He laughs. “This is Edrahil mine captain—” here he gestures toward the brown-haired and green-eyed Noldo. “And this is mine cousin, the former Lord of Himring, Lord Maedhros Feanorion.” Maedhros simply bowed at her, avoiding looking her in the eye.

-- There and Back Again || available on [AO3] Or, an AU take on the Quest for Silmaril, where Maedhros joins Finrod and Beren -- and against all odds (with the help of mutant sorcery that confounds even Gorthaur the Cruel), they manage to rescue one of the gems, and Finrod survives all the way until the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. High King Fingon, in turn, reigns well until the War of Wrath and possibly well into the Second Age.

--

Super gorgeous artwork I commissioned from the lovely @sauroff. I adore their design! Look how beautiful Luthien is!  They have commissions OPEN, so do check them out! ✨❤️

#silmarillion #the silmarillion #lay of leithian #quest of the silmaril #silm #silm fanfic #silm fanart #maedhros #maitimo #finrod #finrod felagund #edrahil of nargothrond #edrahil #huan the hound of valinor #huan #beren #beren erchamion #luthien #luthien tinuviel #my writing #my fanfic #commissions

[sillysistersusi]

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Fëanor x Nerdanel

Summary: When Nerdanel woke up and the other side of her bed was cold, she panicked. Or: Nerdanel is afraid to lose the people close to her again.

When Nerdanel woke up and the other side of her bed was cold, she panicked.

Since Fëanor had moved back in with her three weeks ago, her bed had not been cold when she woken up. Instead, she had felt his gentle fingertips on her cheeks, his breath on her neck or she had opened her eyes to his warm smile.

It had taken a long time before Fëanor had dared to speak to Nerdanel again. He had been reembodied months ago, but he had been afraid she would hate him and he had told her he couldn't bear it if she had hated him.

The truth was that Nerdanel had never hated him. She had been angry. Very angry, in fact. But she hadn't hated him.

And now he was back and she had always woken up to his warmth, but this time it was different. Fëanor wasn't there.

Had she perhaps just dreamed it all? Had Fëanor never really returned? Had these dreams only arisen out of her desire to have her beloved husband back?

Panicked, she sat up, slipped out of bed and ran through a house that was far too big for her alone. She had thought all these years that she would drown in the sheer size of the home that once was filled with love, now that the laughter of her sons and the warmth of her husband were gone.

As she turned a corner, she bumped into someone.

"Fëanáro!" she gasped. Fëanor stood in front of her, a cup of steaming tea in his hand.

"Nerdanel? What is wrong dear?" He carelessly placed the cup on the nearest cupboard and turned to her.

"Fëanáro." she whispered, because she was so relieved to see him. She felt so light that she wouldn't have been surprised if she had suddenly been able to fly.

It was only when Fëanáro's fingertips gently touched her cheek to wipe away a tear that she realized she had started to cry.

"I thought- I thought you were gone," she whispered and sniffled.

He frowned worriedly. "But my dear, why should I be gone?"

"I- I was afraid I might have dreamed it all." she whispered softly. "That you had never really returned."

Fëanor placed his hands gently on her cheeks and then leaned forward to kiss her eyelids. "I am here." Then he kissed down the bridge of her nose. "And I will never leave your side again." He pressed his lips to hers and and wrapped his arms around her to pull her tighter against him.

"I am yours forever, Nerdanel," he whispered against her lips. "And I will never leave unless you ask me to."

"I never want to be without you again, my dearest Fëanáro." she breathed and kissed him again. "Why are you up so early?"

He rested his forehead against hers and rubbed their noses together. "I made you some tea to wake you up. You were still fast asleep when I woke up and I thought it would be nice."

"But why so early?" she asked gently.

Fëanor pulled her closer and kissed her again, harder this time, which was exactly what Nerdanel needed, because the feeling of his kiss lingered on her lips after he had already pulled away. It was a reminder that he was there. "We were supposed to visit Maitimo and Findékano today. And they live a bit out in the country, so we have to leave early."

In her panic, Nerdanel had completely forgotten.

"I am sorry," she whispered quietly.

Fëanor shook his head. "My dearest." He kissed the corner of her mouth. "You have done nothing wrong. Never. It touches me deeply that I still mean so much to you after all this. But rest assured, I would never make the mistake of leaving again, because you and our children are what give my life meaning. You are the true treasures I should have fought for, and I know that now."

"Oh Fëanáro." She gently stroked his cheek. "Let us put the past behind us once and for all and be happy that we have each other again. I love you."

"I love you too, Nerdanel." he whispered against her lips before kissing her again.

#cross posted on ao3 #fëanor x nerdanel #fanfic #fanfiction #nerdanel x feanor #feanor #fëanor #nerdanel #feanor x nerdanel #silm #silmarillion #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction