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haladrielprompts.bsky.social
haladrielprompts
@haladrielprompts.bsky.social
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word prompts for haladriel/saurondriel/annatariel/martanis
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haladrielprompts.bsky.social
haladrielprompts @haladrielprompts.bsky.social · Jan 27
"Haladriel Prompts"
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cozyships.bsky.social
No one’s happy at the Noldor farm these days.

Send good vibes, I’m soooo close to finishing this next chapter of meet me.
Black and white photo of someone using an axe to chop a log set on top of a stump. White text on a black background that reads: She finds him out by the barn — naturally, where else would he be? — chopping firewood with swift, brutal swings of the axe. For a moment, at least, her worries and frustrations fade as she simply watches him, tucking herself away in the shadows cast by the barn, appreciating the raw power of her lover's body in motion. The way his muscles bunch and release with each arc of the blade over his head. The last glimmers of light fading on the horizon line his body in a halo of soft gold. There's something very domestic in the scene despite the violence of the act: standing in the yard of their home, watching the man she's given herself to chop the wood that will feed their fires. "You coming inside?" she asks at last. "Sun's set. You'll hurt yourself if you keep at this out here in the dark." Halbrand makes no move to stop his work. "I'm good." "You missed supper. And lunch." "I'm not hungry." He pauses mid-swing, just long enough to cast her a strange, dark look. "Leastways not for whatever you've got in there." "Halbrand…" White text on a black background that reads: "I said, I'm good." Thunk, the axe strikes true again. "Fine. You can go back to sleeping in the barn, then," she snaps, turning on her heel to head back to the house. She may have been worried about him after his day-long absence, but she never stopped being mad, too. She hopes the coarse straw he usually sleeps on chafes his ass tonight. "Typical." "Excuse me?" Galadriel whirls around to find Halbrand glowering at her. The axe hangs loose at his side, but even in the growing dark she can see his fist wrapped tightly around the handle. "You threw your cat out easily enough when he became an inconvenience. Can't say I'm surprised you'd do the same with me." "What on earth are you talking about?" "The cat. Your little Princeling. I saw how easily you chucked him out today." "You did?" she asks, caught off guard by the direction of the conversation. "Wait, no, that's not what happened." White text on a black background that reads: "Oh? How would you explain it?" Halbrand stalks toward her, still clutching the axe. At the fury in his expression Galadriel takes an unintentional step back. "What is this? Since when do you care about my cat?" She can't think of a time that Halbrand has ever shown any interest in Prince, a single time he's even given the little creature a scratch behind the ears. Come to think of it, she can't recall them ever being in the same room as one another, but surely that can't be true. Regardless, nothing about Halbrand's reaction makes any sense. Halbrand looms over her, and even in the dark his eyes seems to spark and burn as he attempts to stare her down. "If it's so easy for you to set your beloved little pet aside when his presence becomes an inconvenience, what will you do with me?" Galadriel glares right back, though she has to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. "No, that's isn't fair. First of all, I did not set him aside. I put him outside, which is a vastly different thing when you're talking about a farm cat as opposed to a man. Second of all, when have I ever given you reason to doubt me? I'm inviting you in now. You're the one keeping yourself out."
January 8, 2026 at 5:51 PM
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geographygem.bsky.social
I have something for this cooking 👀

"Can you be my monster, as I am yours?"
October 16, 2025 at 7:29 PM
haladrielprompts.bsky.social
21 | return
"Return"
January 3, 2026 at 12:22 AM
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cozyships.bsky.social
Manipulative Galadriel my beloved…

I’m still chugging along on the last two chapters of meet me at the edge! 🤞they’ll both be done by Halloween.
September 4, 2025 at 3:51 PM
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shady-swan.bsky.social
Seawater

🔗: archiveofourown.org/works/56550520
August 18, 2025 at 4:20 PM
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myrsinemezzo.bsky.social
My first go at a/b/o had me cranking out almost 5k this weekend. I don’t know where this is all coming from but damn is it ever fun
Two nearly empty whiskey glasses on a tiled counter in a dimly lit room.
August 18, 2025 at 3:21 PM
haladrielprompts.bsky.social
20 | monster
Monster
July 21, 2025 at 5:20 PM
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catherloki.bsky.social
Again, it's for Inferno so it's technically Annatariel, but just go with it.

(Usual "I literally just wrote this please forgive any mistakes" disclaimer!)

#Haladriel #Annatariel
“Celebrían!” she calls, desperate, her fingers snatching at the air as she runs. Her daughter, in a dreamlike trance, paces barefoot several steps away, her silver hair and shimmering gown floating in the moonlight. Celebrían reaches with a small hand, drawn toward dark thicket of crooked branches, their spindly limbs swaying and greeting her in turn. Panting, Galadriel finally catches up, falling to her knees at Celebrían’s side. She closes her fingers over her daughter’s, squeezing tight and pleading “stop this at once!” “All will be well mother,” the child replies, her tone laced with a cold maturity beyond her years “we are expected.” “I don’t—” Galadriel hears it then, the low rumble; a supernatural growl echoing around the clearing and rushing past her ears. Between the trees two blazing slits appear, narrowing above a great maw of sharp white teeth. Celebrían turns her face toward her mother, her eyes glazed and unfocused “he’s here,” she sings, swaying on her feet. “Run!” says Galadriel, gripping her daughter’s shoulders “run and do not look back, no matter what you hear!” “Mother…” Celebrían replies with an eerie grin “do not be afraid.” A large, black paw emerges from the shadows, claws flexing over the leafy detritus covering the forest floor. “Listen to me now!” Galadriel yells, shaking Celebrían until the film clouding her eyes falls away, a look of terror flickering across her young face. “Mother?” she is unsure now, her voice changed. “Run!” Celebrían wrenches free from Galadriel’s grasp and, after one last glance over her shoulder, she disappears among the trees, running as fast as her little legs will carry her. Another paw slams into the earth, the huge bulk of a wolf finally revealed before a defiant Galadriel. She rises to her feet and stands her ground, light emitting from her palm, her white gown swirling in an unnatural breeze. The wolf snarls but shrinks back, seeking refuge in the darkness. “You will not touch her,” Galadriel affirms, lunging forward. His voice slithers between the cracks within her mind “sh‹e is mine,” he hisses “I told you she would be, and you dared to keep her from me.” “For too long I have succumbed to the web you have woven for me,” replies Galadriel, fair face illuminated by the golden glow of her hair “I claimed a part of it for my own.” “You cannot keep her from me, even now I see her, I am by her side as we speak!” Galadriel smirks, her radiance burning fiercely, beating back his snapping jaws “and yet in physical form, you can only chase one.” Turning on her heel, she runs. The burn in her lungs is almost euphoric, her thighs straining beneath her as she propels forward, his mind pressing malignantly into her own. She can feel it, his rage, his passion. Pursuing his alleged progeny remains secondary to his unrelenting need to possess. Even as her pulse thunders in her ears, even as the agony spreads within her bones, she smiles in triumph. Warm breath tickles the back of her neck, acidic spittle splashing against her skin with each futile pump of her legs. She leaps across gnarled roots and pushes through flexing branches, and still he follows closely, his shadow surrounding her with every step. Eventually she falters, stumbling, her palms pressing into the dirt. With one, booming strike his talons reside either side of her head, his snout brushing the tip of her ear, a hot snort bursting across her hairline. She closes her eyes, resigned. Celebrían is safe she repeats over and over within her mind, welcoming the sharp scrape of fangs at her nape.
July 20, 2025 at 11:33 PM
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thatsouthernanthem.bsky.social
Im gonna regret staying up until three to finish this. And the only “bite” I got in there is the evidence on her ass 🤣 @haladrielprompts.bsky.social prompt was BITE.

I guess she could be biting his fingers but she’s not 🤣
A naked blonde woman is tied up, rope around her chest, neck, legs and hands. A hand presses her head into the bed, a man’s fingers in her mouth. He stands over her, one leg on the bed, the other foot on the ground. His penis is in her ass and his thumb in her vagina. There’s a bite on her ass cheek
July 13, 2025 at 6:45 AM
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mirroringdust.bsky.social
Closest I have for the prompt. From my vampire fic "The last shreds of light" (M)
Cover for the fic a collage in black and white and with Galadriel and Sauron from the raft, lips, candles, fog and hands reaching out
July 12, 2025 at 12:29 PM
haladrielprompts.bsky.social
19 | bite
Bite
July 11, 2025 at 1:49 PM
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catherloki.bsky.social
Well, I DID threaten it...

After days of being stuck, Inferno called me back.

(Very unhinged/Dead Dove-adjacent NSFW snip btw...)

(Also yes, technically Annatariel but non-shippers/toxic antis argue with the wall - he's the SAME person/character.)

#Haladriel #Annatariel #fanfic
Phantoms of what truly happened blaze behind her quivering eyelids; she perceives their twin selves, both clad in armour, their swords clashing, that same vindictive look of satisfaction upon his face as he thrusts and twists. Now, he grips her thigh, his hand scorching her skin. Now he wields no sword of iron, his master’s crown working in tandem with the hard column of flesh snug inside her. With each cruel roll of his hips between her legs, the blade bites deeper into her shoulder and the same single tear, an echo of a different life, rolls down her cheek. She wonders, through the pain, through the pleasure, if this is what she is - an exposed nerve. She feels too much, delighting in it; and the barrier between agony and ecstasy presses closer until the each sensation is indistinguishable from the next. “Look at me Galadriel…” he commands, remaining inside her even after he halts his movements, the crown still piercing her breast. Her eyes are heavy, fluttering. The heated point driving into her chest floods her body, merges with the euphoria surging in waves between her legs: the notes she sings wrap around both, a soft whimper spilling from her lips and meeting the beat of his breath at her cheek. She tries to focus on him, not to obey but to defy - to prove her will is mightier. The way his hungry gaze consumes her is arresting, the black of his eyes drawing her closer to oblivion, sex and death both reaching to claim her. Smoke from nearby fires prick at her eyes and she whimpers, nearly collapsing once the blade tears backwards through her muscle, the crown finally releasing her. Annatar holds her firm, rolling his hips against her until she begins to tremble; she feels cold, so cold. He doesn’t relent, thrusting into her so hard that her skin scrapes against the stone at her back. He surges forward and seals his mouth over hers, forcing his tongue past her lips, the slide of it a violent mirror of his actions below. She wishes she had the strength to deny him, laments that even now her inner walls clench around the velvet ridge of him. He nips at her lip, scrapes his teeth along her skin and bites at the hinge of her jaw, the hand at her leg enough to keep her pinned while he arcs Morgoth’s Crown over her body and places it gently upon her head. 
 Her spilled blood trickles in warm rivulets down the dark spear above and pools beneath the rim before it rolls past her brow, a crimson stream dripping over her eyelids.
July 4, 2025 at 11:54 PM
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geographygem.bsky.social
Have a sneak peek of my fic "Poor Unfortunately Souls" ahead of the Haladriel Summer Bash! @haladrielweek.bsky.social
With both hands on the hilt, Adar swung the sword down towards the small figure of the sea witch before him.    But the blade never hit its mark.    Galadriel's arms came up in a crossed defensive stance and white light blazed from her palms. The sword struck the light with a defending clang that reverberated through the cavern, as if it had hit something solid. From where he was lying, Halbrand could see her pushing back against Adar with all her might.    For a moment they seemed locked together, Adar trying to force the sword downward through Galadriel’s barrier of light, but suddenly she twisted her hands upwards to seize the blade.    Her fingers closed around it, seemingly immune to the sharp edges, and in one quick motion she wrenched the sword from Adar’s grasp, flipping it high into the air before she seized the hilt. Her actions knocked Adar off balance and he stumped backwards, but managed to remain on his feet.     She approached him, dragging the tip of the blade across the pitted surface of the rocky platform, making an ominous scraping sound. 
July 3, 2025 at 7:51 PM
haladrielprompts.bsky.social
If you ever have ideas or requests for prompts, feel free to shoot me a message!
And if you haven't seen me post a prompt in a month, come poke me.
June 28, 2025 at 12:09 AM
haladrielprompts.bsky.social
18 | fight
Fight
June 28, 2025 at 12:08 AM
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formerlyir.bsky.social
Snippet from the next chapter of Reforged in the Making. Haladriel afterglow is different from most couples.
June 27, 2025 at 9:31 PM
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eyeofacat.bsky.social
It's been a while since I wrote Haladriel, and then this 'just a really short promptfill' rapidly got too long to fit so here it is on AO3.

archiveofourown.org/works/66347020
Screenshot of text: "Every broken thing washes away by eye_of_a_cat." Summary: She interrogates her memories as if they were soldiers returning from a campaign. It has been long years since she led anyone into battle herself - she has commanders of her own now who carry out the orders she gives from within her gold-wreathed forest - but at these times she remembers it all. Snow and camp-fire smoke, exhaustion, answers. How ruthless she’d been. How she hadn’t been ruthless enough."
June 9, 2025 at 11:32 PM
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geographygem.bsky.social
And you're wrapped in my memory like chains

archiveofourown.org/works/661388...

As I couldn't between the two versions of the poem, you get both 👏🏻👏🏻
June 2, 2025 at 8:32 PM
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shady-swan.bsky.social
Hero Complex

🔗: archiveofourown.org/works/339936...
May 27, 2025 at 9:46 PM
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geographygem.bsky.social
Snippet from a new poem 😁
Memory is a funny thing, even for immortals, Centuries can pass, days bleeding together Until nothing is distinct anymore, The only reminder of time passing Seems to be the changing position of the river As it carves a new course across the land. But sometimes, other things, Other events, will be seered into the memory And will never ever leave He will remember her voice calling out To the tiny draft adrift on the waves As the flowing tides of fate brought them together
May 27, 2025 at 7:48 PM
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catherloki.bsky.social
Got to lure you all in before I start roasting that dove...

Aka. Well what if *I* wrote an alternative episode 6-8?

(As ever I've not really edited these so there may be typos and weird phrasing - I was doing some writing before dinner and remembered what the latest prompt was!)
An elixir of flavours bursts in her mouth, sweet soft flesh pushing between her teeth and she feels disorientated, unable to focus on the figure seated to her left. Without thinking she bites, certain that nothing untoward could possibly befall her in such a serene atmosphere. A trickle of strawberry juice gathers upon her lower lip and she swallows, barely suppressing a contended sigh. The warmth of the evening sun is at her back, the golden hour of late summer bathing the room with its light. She peers over her shoulder and observes sheer drapes fluttering across a balcony, guided by a gentle evening breeze. She is perched upon a chaise, her knees together and feet planted on the floor, presumably to accommodate her companion. A low table adorned with bowls of fruit is directly in front of her, the centrepiece a large bucket brimming with ice and an uncorked bottle of wine leaning against the rim. Two glasses, half drained of their contents, are spaced within arm’s reach. The strawberry remains insistent at her mouth and she bites again. It has been dipped in sugar, small crystals falling onto her green dress as more liquid gathers on her chin. “Oh dear,” she hears beside her, the tone playful but lacking warmth. She bristles but doesn’t resist his touch, leans into it when he withdraws the fruit and sweeps his thumb over the seam of her lips “look at me Galadriel.” Hesitating, she lifts her head and blinks the world into focus. She recognises him, this yellow-haired Elf raking his gaze from her chin to her eyes, unblinking while he smiles. He gathers the juice from her chin and slips his thumb between his lips, exaggerating as he noisily sucks his own flesh. “Where—” “—you are in my rooms,” he answers after dropping his hand “remember? We always enjoy these little gatherings after toiling in the forge all day.” She stiffens “I arrived yesterday.” “What are you talking about Galadriel?” he says, his fingers now grazing the side of her face and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear “you’ve been here for weeks, you’ve been keeping me company for weeks.” “I shouldn’t be…this isn’t proper,” she replies. He pouts a little “why?” “Because I am married.” “We have discussed this before,” he gently grasps her chin between his thumb and fingers and forces her to keep looking into his eyes “your husband is lost.” “Yes,” she concedes sadly. He shuffles closer to her, taking her hands in his and squeezing gently, thumbs stroking her knuckles “then there is no harm in meeting with a friend like this, is there?” “I—” she considers the wine, the fruit, the wooden screen that she knows obscures a bed. She tries to remember; she has been coming here for weeks. 
Something flashes through her mind, fleeting and potent. There’s a weight above her and lips fastened to her throat, her fingers digging into heated skin. She sees golden strands out of the corner of her eye, feels her thighs burning… And then she is back in the room, his hands over hers and a reassuring smile upon his face. “No harm at all,” she mutters.
May 27, 2025 at 7:17 PM