“I’ve learned that our choices always matter to someone, somewhere. And sooner or later, in ways we can’t always fathom, the consequences come back to us.”
Celebrimbor is wearing Holly leaves, he wore them in s1 already🥰 (I don't have better pictures, sorry, but maybe @queenmeriadoc? Brimbys outfit from the last ep of s1 I mean)
Now Celebrimbor was not corrupted in heart or faith, but had accepted Sauron as what he posed to be; and when at length he discovered the existence of the One Ring he revolted against Sauron and went to Lórinand to take counsel once more with Galadriel. [...] When Sauron learned of the repentance and revolt of Celebrimbor, his disguise fell and his wrath was revealed.
— THE UNFINISHED TALES: THE HISTORY OF GALADRIEL AND CELEBORN
-> in which Annatar blinds you to the invasion of Eregion by giving you a taste of what you desire
Warnings: reader is manhandled and kissed on the lips and neck while under heavy mind control, having false feelings put into her head, basically no romance in sight, just Sauron being his dark creepy self
Sighing deeply, you strike out yet another flawed design for one of the Nine Rings of Men. It’s too similar to one Lord Celebrimbor has already rejected, but your mind seems to have been drained of all original thought after days on end of tireless labour.
At the very least, you have retired to your own study, away from Lord Celebrimbor’s sour mood. He has grown strange of late, distant at best and ill-tempered at worst. You doubt you would have been able to go on toiling as you do if it weren’t for the Lord of Gifts to lift your spirits with his words of encouragement, kind gaze and—on occasion—his soothing touch. He has a way of cradling your hand in his with such gentleness and warmth that it feels like a balm on your calloused skin, making any amount of strenuous work well worth the sacrifice.
You cannot deny, however much you would like to, that you have begun to harbor some measure of infatuation towards him. You try to put it out of your mind most of the time, but you must admit how much it motivates you in your work—the desire to fulfil his desire, as well as the fear that you might disappoint him.
Now, unfortunately, you feel the latter is a more likely possibility. You hate how utterly uninspired you feel, even though it’s to be expected in your state of exhaustion. You groan, leaning on the desk as you rest your head in your hands when a sound distracts you from your own frustration.
It’s coming from outside, you realize, from within the city. A distant clamour, muffled voices, and a distinct, harsh sound that has you standing from your seat, turning towards the door and—
—and finding yourself nose to nose with Annatar.
“My Lord!” you exclaim, hand flying to your suddenly rampant heart as you stumble backwards, bumping into your worktable. “Forgive me, I—I had not heard you come in.”
“Did you not?” he asks, quite puzzled. “I called your name. I was beginning to fear I had somehow offended you when we last spoke, since you seemed so intent on ignoring me.”
“Oh, no, of course not! I did not mean to—” You shake your head, stumbling on your words. Your cheeks feel as hot as the forge itself. How lost must you have been in your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed his presence? “I was quite absorbed in the work, I think,” you admit apologetically. You mean to ask him what he needed of you, but then the same noise from before catches your ear, and you remember why you stood in the first place. “Is that the siege alarm?”
Annatar regards you with a slight furrow in his brow.
“You are tired,” he says softly. “Your senses deceive you.”
That may be true, to an extent. You had failed to hear him earlier, after all. But unless your senses have taken full leave of you, you are certain what you’re hearing is true.
“No, I can hear it,” you insist. “Can’t you?”
You don’t wait for his answer as you walk past him—or at least, you mean to. With a step to the side, he is in your way, causing you to halt in your tracks and blink up at him in surprise instead.
“All is well in the city. Your concern lies here.”
He’s smiling as he says it. The same gentle lift of the lips that you’ve come to consider a sweet reward for your efforts in making the Rings, helping you get through the long days. Now, however, it sends a shiver down your spine. And, for the first time, it is not the pleasant kind.
“Still,” you say carefully, “I am tired, as you said. I wish to go outside—for a moment’s respite, if nothing else.”
You try to step past him. This time, it’s his hand around your wrist that stops you.
“Rest, if you must,” he says, leaning ever so slightly closer, “but do so here. Then, focus on your work, as you are meant to.”
He doesn’t raise his voice, yet the order in it is unmistakeable. And his grip on your wrist is rigid, nothing like the calming touch you’ve known from him so far. You’ve displeased him, that much is clear, and the thought churns in your stomach—but for some reason, your urge to get out demands to be obeyed.
“I shall return to my work,” you press on, “once I come back inside.”
Again, you mean to walk away. You mean to put distance between you, to pull your hand from his.
He won’t let you. The moment you take your first step, his grip tightens and he pulls you back, bringing your hand between your chests and keeping you trapped against your worktable.
“My Lord, please!” you say in disbelief, frantically searching his eyes for any trace of the warmth that was once there. “You are frightening me.”
“You need not be frightened,” he says, a sharp edge to his tone, “so long as you do as I tell you.”
“I—” You stare at him, dumbfounded. You don’t know what’s come over him, but you want no part of it. “Release me at once.”
You try to wrench your hand away from his, but all that does is worsen the pain in your wrist as he keeps it in his iron grip. And yet he looks so eerily calm as he does so, as his other hand suddenly cups your cheek.
“Shh,” he cooes softly, “none of that.” Your heart trembles in your chest, painfully confused as he seems to contemplate you. “I thought you’d have let me in by now,” he muses. “But perhaps I should have done this sooner.”
“Done what—?”
His lips meet yours.
It stops. All of it. The confusion, the alarms—those outside as well as those within you. A wave of calm sweeps through the very core of your being, removing in its wake all traces of distress and leaving nothing but sweet surrender. A sound escapes your throat, something like a yelp that turns into a sigh, and...
How is this happening? What came before? You can’t remember, and you don’t care to. All you know is you have imagined this before, desired it deep within your heart, and that desire is being fulfilled. There’s an ache in your wrist, but the pain is dull and you pay it no mind as he tastes your mouth languidly. Your hands come to rest on his chest, his pulling you to him by the waist. And just as you melt into him, weak with desire, he parts his lips from yours.
“Forgive me,” he says softly as your dazed gaze meets his. “Did you mean to go somewhere?”
Your brow furrows as you try to muster enough coherent thought to speak.
“I... I believe I was coming to find you,” you find yourself murmuring. You don’t quite remember, but the words come as naturally to you as the act of breathing. And they feel true, once you’ve spoken them.
The tiniest smile blooms at the corner of his lips.
“I see,” he says, satisfied. “What did you need from me?”
“I... I needed...”
The answer eludes you. You only know what you need now, and the craving is so great you cannot put it into words.
Sure enough, he knows. His eyes hold a teasing glint, almost mean, as he leans down, pressing his lips to a tender spot beneath your ear before whispering into it, “This, perhaps?” His mouth travels lower still, kissing your neck as you tremble in his arms. “Or this?”
“Annatar,” you breathe out, uncaring of his title. Surely, you are beyond formalities now.
“Yes?” he says, awfully innocent, pulling away to look you in the eye once more. “Name your desire, and you shall have it.”
Your skin sizzles where he has touched it, and the hunger in his eyes leaves you breathless, and you are beyond merely voicing what you desire as you press your lips to his once more. He returns your kiss, matching your greed and swallowing your moan, and you think you might become reduced to ashes if he were to let you go.
It’s painful when he pulls away once more. You find yourself chasing his lips, craning your neck for just one more taste, but he cups your cheek to hold you still.
“Easy,” he says softly, yet the sole word feels like a command. You do settle down, though your heart is still rampant in your chest. He seems pleased by it, and that is enough to hold you still. “Now, I’m afraid there is an urgent matter I must discuss with Lord Celebrimbor. But I shall return to you, and...” he trails off, fixing you with a gaze full of promise which stokes the fire in your belly. “Remain here. Speak to no one. Wait for me. Will you do as I tell you?”
The words hold a strange echo. You can’t place it. You only know what the right answer is.
“Yes,” you agree quietly. And mean it.
“Good.” Annatar smiles, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. “That pleases me greatly.”
The praise continues to warm your heart long after he is gone. You’re painfully aware, somehow, that you could never live without that feeling, or without him, again.
Imagine Halbrand (Sauron) visiting you in your dreams…
Your eye caught the split lip and swelling bruise on his cheek. The drying blood did very little to quell the unease growing in your chest.
You were warned not to speak with him. It was explicitly requested that you alert Galadriel or Elrond should Sauron venture into your dreams again… but your heart loved too fiercely. Maybe it was as Galadriel had feared, that you had fallen in love by the allure of his darkness but you had fallen.
“Are you in pain?” You asked.
Halbrand seemed surprised by the question. He had visited each night for the past week speaking of adventures, whispering apologies or reminiscing over stolen moments and you had not uttered a single word - until now. 
“Physical pain can be endured. The ache in my chest, however, echoes more greatly.” He answered.
You turned away briefly in an attempt to wash away his implication of lingering emotions. Instead, you focused on another thought that plagued your mind.
“You are a being of great power.” You stated and looked at him once more. “Why have you subjected yourself to this?”
“Perhaps it was the only way to have you speak to me again?” Halbrand teased. When you chose not to comment he continued. “Or perhaps it is my penance for causing you such hurt?”
“That is no answer.” You told him sternly.
Halbrand softened his gaze and smiled lovingly like he had on so many occasions. “It is not but there are some secrets that I must hold on to. Surely you understand?”
“I do not hold on to secrets as you would assume.”
“No? Then why have you not yet awoken and called for the guards to report my appearance? Why have you chosen to keep Galadriel in the dark about my visits?” He questioned.
You remained silent. He was right. But you had no desire to confess that to him and you had a feeling that he knew it too.
“The hour is growing late. I will leave you to your dreams.” Halbrand said. “I do hope we speak again soon.”
He waited for a few moments. You had wanted to tell him to stay safe but that was far too complicated with what has unfolded. So you said nothing and watched him vanish, leaving you to dream of an empty room.
Request: by anon – “I have a Halbrand x reader request/idea. Where the reader is an elf and she and Sauron fell in love in the really early days of middle earth. Because of this Morgoth killed her because she made Sauron soft. She then goes through the whole elf reincarnation thing and reincarnated to be alive during the rings of power. She’s now Galadriel’s friend and jumps off the ship to Valinor with her, meaning she ends up on the raft and numenor with Halbrand and Galadriel. She doesn’t remember her previous life but falls for Halbrand still. The rest is up to you 👀”
Thanks for the request, anon! ❤️
Warnings: Mentions of death. Injury and blood (nothing major). Lots of pining. Maybe a little ooc, but he’s in love, and she makes him soft.
I have almost finished the second (and final) part of this. This one was getting too long, and it felt right to split them. Been a while since I’ve done this much writing, so hopefully it’s not completely awful. Also, not my gif – credit to the creator!
You do not anticipate returning to Aman so soon. Námo had been clear when you awoke in his Halls – you have a greater role to play in the shaping of Middle Earth. For whatever reason, the fate of the one they call Sauron is inextricably tied to your own, and it is that fact that brings you and Galadriel together in the beginning and keeps you together long afterwards.
Galadriel herself is a guiding light in this unfamiliar world. Beleriand, you learn, now rests beneath the sea, and your home along with it. Your memories of the place have yet to return – after all this time, you doubt they ever will – but the thought brings with it a sense of longing for all you have lost. Even if you don’t remember what that is, you know it is much.
Imagine knowing the truth when Halbrand visits you for the last time…
At sundown, Elrond had visited you in the guest quarters. It was a short exchange. He wished to know that you how you were coping before he retired for the night. Once he was satisfied with your reply, he bid you farewell and descended the steps.
In truth, you did not know how to process the news of Halbrand’s identity so you gave a response that Elrond was willing to hear, hoping that a nights rest may help you think clearly the next day.
You blew out a candle by the bed and settled onto the mattress. You had wished for silent dreams but there was only one face that showed - a memory that you shared with Halbrand in Numenor when he came to you with injuries after a street fight.
You had sat him down and cleaned his wounds, lightly scolding him for not walking away. He was bitter about what had happened but thanked you for the aid nonetheless. His eyes captured yours and in that single moment of distraction you had accidentally grabbed a scalding metal pike that was sitting on the bench beside the bandages.
The burning in your hand forced you awake. Sitting up with a gasp, you looked into your palm and saw the fading scars from the incident. That’s when you noticed something in the corner of your eye - the outline of a person standing behind the curtains.
Straightening your shoulders, you sent a hard stare at fabric before making a demand. “Show yourself.”
Imagine Halbrand keeping up appearances and gifting you a token…
Distance was crucial in this moment - especially when your whole body desired nothing more than to cross the space and seek comfort in familiar arms.
“You do not seem pleased to see me.” Halbrand noted, his tone curious. He took a step forward but halted immediately when he saw you tense and move backwards by the same measure. “You are most certainly not pleased to see me. May I inquire the reason for such hostility?”
Unsure of his intentions, you couldn’t believe that the man who stole your heart was capable of the danger that Galadriel had claimed.
“You were seen at the Forge without permission. What is your sudden interest in Celebrimbor’s work?” You asked.
Halbrand smiled and then nodded in understanding.
“Ah, so my unapproved presence has caused a stir. It is true, I sought out the elf. He is a famed craftsman and I was curious about his techniques.”
You frowned at him. “What ever for?”
“Well, I had hoped to keep this a secret but...” Halbrand reached into a pocket and fished out a small glimmering band of metal. “I was hoping that you would accept a humble gift from a simple man who works at a forge.”
As he spoke, Halbrand had closed the space without you realising until you could the details etched into the beautiful metal.
You took in a sharp breath. “Rings are no small token to be exchanged, Halbrand. There is always a purpose when they are forged and friendship is commemorated differently.”
“Who said this was created for friendship?” Halbrand questioned. You looked up and finally met his warm eyes as he spoke. “You fought on my behalf and helped stake my claim upon a cursed land. This ring is my asking that you continue to stand at my side.”
Halbrand used his free hand to trace a line down your arm until the clasped around your hand. He brought it up and turned your palm to face the ceiling before he placed the cool band to rest atop the skin.
“You need not make a choice in this moment. I will wait and hope that you say yes.” He told you kindly.
“And what if that is not the answer I chose?” You asked, looking up at him. It had to be asked.
Halbrand eyes did not dim for a second, the glimmer was constant. “If that is what you choose then it will be respected. And you may keep the token regardless, consider it a gift.”
~ More imagines here ~
A/n: One scene is all it took to throw me back here…
think of Astarion at the beginning of your journey. he's restless, looking for someone he could effortlessly manipulate—someone who could be of use to him
some silly little creature like yourself, delightfully naive, shy, with cheeks that turn crimson every time he says something even slightly wicked
one of the first nights, Astarion was feeling so weak and sooo thirsty...he simply had to taste you. he needed to sink his fangs into your lovely skin, but you caught him and his body froze for a second shit
yet, instead of killing him (or at least trying to), you gave him a hesitant permission to drink from you. as he knelt before you, sinking his fangs into your delicious neck, he realised for a sweet, little moment that you were perfect—so good for him, your body beneath his, at his utter mercy
it did things to him, things he didn't yet understand
from that moment, Astarion's gaze was firmly fixed on you. he began to test the waters, offering playful flirtations, and your responses were utterly endearing...you were shy, deliciously shy, but it was clear you wanted him. everyone desired him, naturally, and you were no exception
or maybe you were?
as the two of you conversed more and more, he found himself increasingly drawn to you, though he wouldn’t admit it, not even to himself. he took pleasure in how effortlessly he could provoke you, especially when your eyes darted away under the intensity of his lustful gaze
it was clear you hadn't had much experience, so he took his time with you, careful not to scare you, as he needed to keep you close
or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself—an excuse, really. the truth was he truly enjoyed the slowness of it all
he gave you small but very deliberate touches, soft smiles, sweet words. oh god, he was really good with his words
Astarion felt a thrill when you were dancing around each other like this, clearly desiring one another, yet hesitating to act on those desires
it felt incredibly liberating to take his time with you, moving slowly. it felt so different from the hellish existence he once knew, of fucking senselessly
one night, when you were particularly lovely, nestled in his arms and slightly tipsy from wine, you told him you were a virgin
"a virgin, you say?"
well, as it was said before, it wasn't hard to tell you lacked experience, but Astarion surely didn't expect you to have none at all
if he didn’t already have such a strong feelings for you, he might have laughed. instead, he found your innocence endearing and oddly hot?
questions filled his mind: how did you manage it, why had you remained untouched, what was it like? and pondering these questions like that made him unexpectedly melancholic
mindfull even
so his touches were gentle, his kisses soft and reassuring. you were holding your hands a lot—an experience as new for you as it was for him
truthfully, it seemed that you both were discovering your sexuality together for the first time
Astarion would find his feelings for you deepening, and though it was complicated, and fucking scary, he couldn’t imagine being without you, although it might seem somewhat pathetic it was the truth
and he wanted to keep you safe, as you kept him
when the moment felt right—ideally after Cazador—his longing for you would be undeniable, and his neediness would be more apparent than ever
he would press his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss...then moving to your neck...then down to your collarbone, exploring every inch of your lovely skin
Astarion would took his time, making sure you felt every sensation, every touch, every kiss, every hooded look
he genuinely wanted to make this feel just... right, for both of you
his fingers would work wonders, his voice husky with desire
"so perfect. do you feel good, darling? tell me, does this feel good?"
he was very attentive to communication, eager to hear that you were enjoying every moment
his fingers would found your core, sliding in and out with a rhythm that made you go completely feral
after, what felt like a lifetime, he would slowly push the tip of his cock into your wet insides, stretching you gently
"Gods, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with lust
and then more of the same questions would occur; "do you like this? does it feel good?"
and then; "you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?
oh my
his hips would move with a skilful rhythm, each thrust precise and perfectly timed. and as you reached the peak of your pleasure, he would bite your neck so beautifully displayed by you, his fangs sinking into your willing body
Astarion had fantasised about this moment for so long you see—being inside you while drinking your warm, delicious blood. it was undeniably erotic and felt indescribably amazing
after a few more of his tender thrusts, accompanied by sweet words and eager hands, your climax would overwhelm you, making you see star
as you clenched so deliciously around him, he felt an overwhelming urge to quicken his movements. he yearned to thrust harder, but he held back, mindful of it being your first time
yet! as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer and encouraging him to move harder, he found it impossible to resist. your touch spurred him on, making him lose himself a little in the overwhelming pleasure and that's exactly what you wanted
his rapid thrusts, the feel of your warm blood flowing in his body and your tight wetness around him made his own release inevitable
he came with a deep groan, his eyes shut tight, his cock throbbing inside you
it felt so good he was literally trembling
despite his attempts to hide it, he was clearly touched by its intensity of it all. he held you tightly, wrapping you in an affectionate and soothing hug and for once he didn't utter a single word, there were no need to
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
you can find more of my works about astarion ♡here♡
also! my halsin x shy!virgin headcanons are right here...
andulkaphoto
prguitarman
yousharknotpass
germansingergirl
titsay
gummygunk
janainaart
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
