ON HIATUS

— ♛ MAIRON ♛ MOBILE VERSION ♛

— ♛ MELKOR ♛ MOBILE VERSION ♛

— ♛ RULES ♛ MOBILE VERSION ♛

— ♛ VERSES ♛ MOBILE VERSION ♛

— ♛ PROMO ♛

I hope life is treating you all kindly. I’m hopping on here to make a quick announcement out of respect for all of those who currently have threads with me or with whom I had stuff planned.

I am putting my blogs on hiatus. Life right now is quite hard and I don’t have the motivation to write here anymore. I won’t deactivate, but I am not sure when and if I will ever be back.

I’m sorry to leave you hanging like that, but this is supposed to be fun and once it becomes a chore, then it’s a sign that something is wrong.

If you wish, I can give my discord to you so as to keep in contact!

Take care!

I have been taking advantage of the holidays to unwind a bit and now I have an assignment coming up soon so I’m focusing on that.

I’m also not feeling very motivated to write lately.

“Yes, my lord.” The praise made his face light up, his distress forgotten for now. “Perhaps I could infuse the metal with magic, so that you may use it to supplement your own power,” He knew, but did not say, that this form that Melkor had been limited to, was not his most powerful. “And any creature foolish enough to try and strike you will feel the blow reflected on themselves.”

Melkor had a thoughtful expression on his face, clearly considering and picturing Mairon’s various suggestions in his head. He’d always valued his lieutenant’s imput and this time was no different.

“M-master.” Melkor knew his body too well, and relaxing his mind had been like opening the floodgates, and it did not take long for him to descend into mindless moaning and whimpering. His head fell back, exposing his throat, waves of red hair covering his face.

“M-more…”

More, he asked. And Melkor wanted to give him just that. It wasn’t enough to simply touch him that way, no matter how skilled he was, how he perfectly knew how to please his Maia. Mairon wanted more and Melkor was ready to give it to him.

“Listening isn’t my strongest trait.”

The elvenking was quiet for a moment- long had he and his people stood against the darkness in Dol Guldur.

He shook his head.

“I decline your… offer. I do not strike deals with the enemy of my people. We would rather fight against your forces than lifetimes of servitude.”

“So I have noticed,” the Dark Lord said, arms crossed over his chest and one red eyebrow lifted. To say that it did not annoy him would have been a lie.

It was an order. He did not refuse, but he did not move to help his Lord walk either. Mairon was in no mood to be kind now, even if he knew deep down that it was only because Melkor cared that he was so harsh. He refused to let his anger go, clinging to it in place of his pride.

“Do you have a task for me, instead, my lord?”

Melkor slowly turned towards the Maia. As much as he loved him, he did not like it when his servants questioned his orders and, in this moment, he was even less willing than usual to put up with Mairon’s stubbornness.

“Yes, my lord.” The Lieutenant had already looked into his mind. He was sure he knew of all his experiences and Beleg did not want to disappoint him.

It was a little easier with Gorthaur’s eyes closed; Beleg touch gained confidence, teasing the head of his cock with his thumb.

“May I use my mouth, my lord?” Eru, this was humilating.

Mairon let out a low moan, his sharp nails digging in the flesh of Beleg’s shoulder. He did not care whether the other was enjoying himself or not, all he wanted was to take his pleasure. And the elf proved to be quite good at giving it.

His eyes fluttered open when he heard the question and, for a few instants, he stared right into the Sinda’s eyes. Truthfully, he had not expected him to offer that just yet. He smirked, clearly pleased.

He relaxed, patting the Man on the head lightly and smiling. What a good little pet he was; it was almost a pity he was so well behaved. The good ones became boring quickly, but if Mairon was in a benevolent mood, he might even let this one live once he had had his fun.

A flush of heat went through him at the title; he so loved it when his master said it like that.

“I am your most devoted servant.” he began,  “I would be on my knees before your throne, yours to command. You know, my lord, of the skill of my tongue. I would thank you for my gift most thoroughly..”

The Man tensed when he heard what the Maia said to his Master. Although he had not said it explicitly, he was no fool and he knew what he truly meant. He suddenly felt sick at the thought of witnessing such an act or, worse, be involved in it.

Melkor smiled at Mairon’s words, clearly pleased by them. He was already savoring the image of his beautiful Maia on his knees before him, serving him like he was born to do. His fingers tapped on his thigh as he let his mind wander.

Caught mid step, the shove sent Mairon to his knees, and in his surprise he couldn’t stop the shocked yelp that left him. Looking back up, and seeing the anger in those eyes, he did not rise. His Lord had never been so angry at him - a cold terror swept over him, fearing what his master would do if he could not placate him.

“My lord,” The insult stung worse than any wound could. his eyes landed on Melkor’s hands, then the gems, and back up to his face. Oh. Now he understood. The appreciation he had felt for the Silmarils twisted and darkened into hate. Anything that cause his Lord to act against him was his enemy. He crawled forward, at his Lord’s feet. “I did not mean to touch them. I only seek to soothe your pain. Look into my eyes - you will find no desire for anything but pleasing you.”

Melkor watched his servant crawled towards him and, at first, his instincts told him to strike him, to kick him far away from him as he could not believe his words and believed the Maia wanted his gems. His eyes were unfocused, probably due to a combination of extreme pain and anger. And then, all of a sudden, Melkor blinked and soon crumbled to his knees. It was as if he had woken up from a trance.

“My Lord,” Gothmog tried, keeping a distance as seeing Mairon being so badly rejected had put fear in him. “Those gems belong to you and we, as your loyal servants, know this well. Please, let us serve you.”

Mairon’s jaw clenched. He detested it, but he could not - would not - disobey an order. But if the projet fell apart in his absence, then Melkor would have to be the one to put up with his inevitiable, irritable mood.

“As you wish, my lord.” he said, cold and withdrawn; as much as he loved his lord, he was angry, and no one could nurse a bad mood like him. “Am I dismissed?”

He knew Mairon was probably very annoyed at him right now, but in all honesty he did not care: if he was so reckless to put his own life at risk for the sake of a project, then Melkor was going to make sure to keep him safe. Had it been any other of his servants, he would have expected them to lay down their lives for the greater good. But not Mairon. Mairon was precious to him.

“Me?”

But of course, who else? It was not as if Melkor could go to the hospital.

“Get into the kitchen. On the table.” He switched from panicked to calm in a moment, rushing ahead to sweep everything off the table, setting the kettle to boil and then returning to help Melkor.

“Yes, you,” he said. He was aware of what he was asking of him, but he had no other choice if he wanted to come out of this alive. “I’d do it myself, but ... I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay awake much longer ...”

He had to heavily rely on Mairon to get to the kitchen, only half aware of his own legs moving to take him there. He collapsed over the table, but when he tried to climb on top of it, he let out a pained moan.

“I am sure I cannot compare to… to Lord Melkor, my lord.” he answered, really not wanting to think about Morgoth while he was here. He was terrified that even the thought of him would bring torment on him. “But I will do my best to be pleasing all the same.”

He bit his lip, curling his hand around Gorthaur’s cock, fixing his eyes on a point over his shoulder as he concentrated on the movement of his hand - he had clever hands, though rough and calloused from work and bow-string. If it had been someone else, he would have showered them with kisses, but did not dare assume he was permitted to be so intimate.

“Of course you can’t, silly,” Mairon said with a chuckle. Seeing the fear in the Sinda’s eyes at the mere mention of his Master’s name was exciting to him. “But you’re still cute ... and I’m sure you know how to please someone.”

With long more desperate look at his master, Mairon gave in, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply; he closed off his thoughts with supreme effort,  focused only on how his Master’s hand felt on him. He whimpered, and this time it was in pure pleasure.

“My lord…” he gasped, eyes fluttering open again, pupils blown wide with lust, “Oh…”

That’s it, Melkor thought, a satisfied smile on his lips as he heard the sounds coming from the Maia’s lips. After all, he knew exactly what to do to have him completely lost. He stroked him with a gentle and steady rhythm at first, wanting to slowly build up his pleasure.

I could make that for you. Mairon wanted to say, but held his tongue. Anyone with eyes could tell that Melkor was in a dark mood, and Mairon liked this fana. He did not wish his lord to destroy it in sudden rage.

Mairon stepped back a little to listen to Gothmog, eyes flickering over his Lord. A deep unease settled in his stomach. His hands. Ungoliant could not have caused them, but what could have?

“Let me speak to him,” he urged, then spoke up, stepping forward to reach for Melkor’s hands, and the gems within them. “My lord, you are hurt. Please, let me tend to you; the crown can wait a few more moments, surely?”

As soon as Gothmog saw Mairon reaching fot the Dark Lord’s hands, his eyes widened and he reached out with one hand, although he was too far to stop the other Maia. “Mairon! Wai–” he tried to warn, but it was too late.