#Curumo x Aiwendil

[cilil]

rare pair bingo

AN: For @i-did-not-mean-to🤍. If you'd like to see some Almaren designs for these two I highly recommend @neldeathstar's art - their Aiwendil is the cutest thing ever!

⸙ Prompt: Blushing | Curumo x Aiwendil ⸙ Synopsis: Aiwendil is not shy about admiring his favourite Maia. ⸙ Warnings: / ⸙ Drabble | AO3

There he was, his favourite forge spirit, so smart, capable, tall and proud. 

Aiwendil flopped down in the grass with a huge, dreamy grin on his face and observed Curumo who was currently cleaning his tools with an expression so serious that one could think Aulë had entrusted him with the tremendous task of reconstructing Illuin and Ormal. 

His bird friends, perched on his head and shoulders as always, chirped eagerly. They could sense how excited Aiwendil was, though their voices alerted Curumo to his presence. 

Unbothered, the younger Maia waved at him.

Curumo, for reasons inexplicable to him, blushed. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @saintstars @singleteapot @urwendii @wandererindreams

[i-did-not-mean-to]

YOTP - July

Ah, I've forgotten to finish and upload this. Forgive me!

Pairing: Curumo x Aiwendil

Prompts: Vacation together, Power Swap, Enemies to Lovers, “Batman won’t like this”, Stars, Coffeeshop AU

Words: 2 015

Warnings: Hostility, a lost wallet, 1 bed trope, Aquarium, a kiss

Aiwendil pursed his lips but didn’t object when the rooms were assigned.

Curumo looked as if he’d bitten into a lemon, which was not exactly edifying either.

“All right?” Mairon asked impatiently.

“All right,” Aiwendil muttered. What else was he to say? He couldn’t very well tell his imperious top manager that he was afraid that Curumo might be unhappy.

Since he’d started working at the little, cosy coffee shop, he’d constantly found himself at odds with the tall, imperious, heart-wrenchingly alluring junior manager of the establishment.

At first, the tension had been distinctly hostile, and Aiwendil had suffered profoundly under the devastating certainty that he was loathed by his handsome superior when he’d done nothing to deserve such instant dislike as far as he recalled.

“We should go—I want to freshen up,” Curumo hissed without looking over and strode away.

Aiwendil followed him wordlessly, trying hard not to think of that hazy night of the last company Christmas party. Someone had spiked the punch, and they’d ended up making out frantically in the establishment’s impeccably clean backroom.

It had been an unexpected, cataclysmic event, and—to his knowledge—nobody else was aware of what had transpired.

Unfortunately, at least from Aiwendil’s perspective, such a thing had then never happened again.

On the contrary, from that incident onward, Curumo seemed to despise him even more; he could barely look at his young colleague without his thin-lipped mouth curling into a cruel, disgusted line.

They were, of course, much too professional to let the fraught enmity between them have any negative repercussions on the shop, and thus, the little business had known record figures this year around.

It had been generous of Melkor, the owner, to invite all his employees to a trip to the seaside during their obligatory off-season, and Aiwendil was far from ungrateful, but he now wished that he’d declined the offer, nevertheless.

Probably, it had all been a subterfuge to get Mairon, who managed most of the day-to-day affairs for Melkor, alone while wearing a skimpy bathing suit.

A sharp sting of envy shot through Aiwendil’s heart at the realisation that others fared much better with their workplace romances, and he vowed that he’d at least try to clear the air before he spent a whole weekend sharing a room with someone who seemed to hate him.

“Which bed do you want?” Curumo asked as he pushed open the plywood door, only to freeze mid-movement with a small but deep groan. “Never mind!”

Perplexed by this sudden change of stance, Aiwendil poked his head into the room and suppressed a low exclamation of distress of his own.

The point was moot because there was but one huge bed, looming like a pool of quicksand in the middle of the cosy room.

“Ah,” Aiwendil said indecisively because he felt that he needed to say something.

His intense desire to melt into the worn carpet, never to be seen again, remained mercilessly unfulfilled, though.

No matter how often or frantically he blinked, his unfortunate situation—condemned to spend his holiday perched up with someone he’d neither call an enemy, a friend, nor a lover confidently—didn’t change.

“This will absolutely not do,” Curumo grunted, his face ablush with righteous anger.

Aiwendil’s heart sank; he’d never considered the other a rival or even a foe, despite his outright inimical behaviour, and he’d secretly hoped that their inebriated folly would eventually have a positive impact on their strained relationship.

How bitterly disappointed he’d been in that regard. He hoped that it wasn’t too late to change that.

“I’m sorry,” he said automatically as if he’d purposefully booked the room they’d been assigned randomly. “Maybe we can swap with someone else?”

At that, Curumo frowned. “I highly doubt that any of the others would be any more comfortable sharing a bed than us.”

His eyebrow quirked expressively, telling Aiwendil that he’d not forgotten about his fall from grace either.

For a long moment, the only thing in the room was awkward tension and the wheezing of the old air conditioning.

“Maybe we should rejoin the others?” Aiwendil then said dejectedly—as much as he’d hoped that this little get-away would be the perfect opportunity to mend fences with Curumo, he wasn’t the kind of man who willingly, consciously imposed his prolonged presence on someone to whom it was visibly loathsome.

Unfortunately, their streak of bad luck didn’t end there.

When they’d made their way back to the lobby, having been delayed by an uncoordinated, fat woman trying to get all her suitcases out of the lift before the doors could close, their party had already left.

The snooty young man behind the reception desk wordlessly shoved over a glossy flyer, advertising a marine biology museum.

Curumo’s eyes lit up—he’d once dated a half-mad surfer who’d liked to wax poetic about various sea creatures. After the seemingly countless hours he’d listened to Aiwendil talk about local and exotic critters, he felt that it was only fair that he’d for once be the one to bore the other to tears with utterly irrelevant factoids.

“The next bus comes in 5 minutes,” the receptionist informed them before turning to the very same rotund lady from before who was now in tears because her AC unit was not working properly.

“Oh, that sounds fun…If you want to go, I mean,” Aiwendil muttered miserably, picking up random brochures and stuffing them into his very unattractive fanny pack haphazardly.

“Do you think I want to spend the day alone with you?” Curumo hissed. “Let’s go!”

To his surprise, his unwelcome companion’s choices had been much less random than he’d originally thought. As a matter of fact, Aiwendil was able to locate the bus stop and work out a shortcut that might get them to the museum in time to rejoin their group.

Uncomfortable and embarrassed, Curumo launched into a long diatribe about the sexual habits of dolphins—it soon turned out that Aiwendil was a much more gracious listener than his cranky colleague had ever been.

That much could have been predicted, but Curumo found himself nevertheless bemused by the evident swap in roles and powers.

Usually, it was Aiwendil who was chattering away while he tried to keep things running smoothly. He was also astounded by how relaxing it was to, for once, let someone else worry about the applicable minutia and rules while he could simply prattle on and on with gusto.

“No! Really?” Aiwendil exclaimed, proving that he’d been listening carefully, as they got out of the last bus. It had been an unbearably hot and uncomfortable ride, but Curumo almost regretted its inevitable end.

He even grimaced when he saw his bosses and colleagues standing around aimlessly in front of the wide-open glass doors.

“Melkor lost his wallet—again!” Mairon snorted. Their manager wore his white linen suit with the enviable elegance of a black widow squandering her inheritance at the French Riviera, and his designer eyewear flashed in the merciless sun as their chaotic boss crawled on his hands and knees under benches.

“I had it when we left,” Melkor swore and narrowed his eyes at his employees in a silent bid for assistance.

“At once,” Aiwendil exclaimed and dropped to his own knees readily.

Curumo watched him scurry this way and that, and—behind his own sober sunglasses—he shamelessly ventured a few lingering looks at his colleague’s small, firm behind poking out from behind a massive flowerpot.

Finally, when the renegade wallet had been located and retrieved, they all shuffled into the blue penumbra of the museum obediently—it was uncomfortably hot and muggy inside, and people soon split up into smaller groups so as to not overcrowd the displays.

When Aiwendil looked up from an explanatory plaquette about the conservation efforts made by the local government he’d been perusing with earnest interest, he was startled to discover that Curumo was still hovering at his side, evidently patiently waiting for him to finish.

“Would you like to go see the tunnel?” he asked sheepishly. From where he stood, he’d seen his colleagues rush through the hallway that cut right through one of the bigger aquariums, and he’d been irrationally dismayed by their lack of patience and admiration for their unique surroundings.

“The glass is solid, right?” Aiwendil mumbled. “I’m not a superb swimmer.”

“If it should collapse, swimming would be least of your worries,” Curumo assured him in what he only realised had been more of a threat than a kindness when Aiwendil’s eyes widened in sudden alarm. “Nonsense, the glass is perfectly safe. Come!”

Since that night when Curumo’s thin, firm lips had driven him half to distraction, Aiwendil had never received another invitation of any kind, so he was not about to forego this one. He lurched into motion.

Standing in the flickering darkness, he felt his heartbeat quicken and his cheeks warm up as he listened to Curumo explain the different species that were gliding past them with majestic equanimity.

Aiwendil was a creature made for verdant forests and muddy ground, so—between the ever-shifting hues of dark blue and sea green and Curumo’s intense gaze—he felt as if he was floating through a foreign, not entirely soothing world.

“Oh, look at that school!” Curumo suddenly exclaimed softly, his long finger pointing at a silvery cloud of tiny fish.

“They look like stars,” Aiwendil mumbled, awe-struck, and then immediately ducked his head in anticipation of the harsh reprimand for having spoken such a silly, unnecessary observation.

“They rather do, yes,” Curumo mused.

“Is that a ray?” Aiwendil asked breathlessly to distract himself from the surge of unbidden, yet indomitable hope.

“So it is,” Curumo whispered. He was mesmerised by the way the light, reflecting off the innumerable bellies of passing fishes, danced upon Aiwendil’s gently smiling face. Why did he always have to look so enviably happy?

For months, Curumo had more or less consciously tried to dim that fierce light of compelling optimism and pure joy lest it break down all his walls and overcome his cautious reservations.

Standing here felt oddly intimate—he was used to seeing Aiwendil under the bright, flickering lights of the coffee shop, his hair tied back and his best customer service smile plastered across his cute face, but this dreamy, undeniably private smile inevitably awakened something dark and dangerous in the depths of Curumo’s heart and soul.

He leaned forward ever so slightly.

“Batman, I mean Sea Batman, won’t like this,” Melkor hooted from behind a corner and was promptly shushed by Mairon who dragged him away to look at a fearsome octopus instead.

“Sea Batman,” Aiwendil chuckled nervously, his eyes darting to and fro between Curumo’s intense expression and the majestic ray hovering above them like a living parasol.

“Don’t listen to him,” Curumo laughed. “We’re on holiday—he’s not our boss right now.”

“He’s always our boss,” Aiwendil started to protest but his display of unconditional loyalty to his place of work and his superiors was silenced by the brush of blessedly cool lips against his own.

The featherlight touch was silken and smooth, just as Aiwendil imagined the sleek bodies floating around them to feel under his twitching fingers.

The oppressive, damp heat of the tunnel seemed to grow inexorably, but that long-awaited kiss nevertheless felt like a soothing caress of cool water and fresh air against Aiwendil’s burning skin.

As from far away, they heard their colleagues declare that they’d seen enough.

“Let them go,” Curumo murmured. “They won’t miss us. We’ll find our own way.”

The thought of having dinner alone with his most cherished foe made the tall man grin sharply. “You’ve proven that you can steer us safely through the city, haven’t you?”

At one, Aiwendil nodded proudly.

They waited for another 5 minutes, giggling and kissing like schoolboys under the motionless, expressionless gaze of thousands of aquatic spectators before they left, breathing in the clean, cool night air greedily.

“Let’s not switch rooms,” Curumo laughed, took Aiwendil’s arm, and started walking towards the city centre.

Thank you for reading and sorry for the delay!

-> Masterlist

[cinemairon]

(via Make a GIF)

For my dear partner @loonylovers  which gave me a request that ended up to a whole story~

In mermaid AU Yavanna and Aule make a nice family that grows bigger until Mairon follows Melkor.

[cilil]

The bittersweetness of Curuwendil

Just some thoughts about Curumo's and Aiwendil's relationship and why it's stuck in my brain.

Curumo and Aiwendil are a great example of opposites attract and two people who balance each other out. Aiwendil brings joy and whimsy into Curumo's life, while Curumo provides stability and a calm, rational outlook on things.

Their relationship involved some growth, especially on Curumo's part. I like to imagine that he was very drawn to Mairon while they still served Aulë together, be it because he was attracted to him or because he wanted to learn from him or be more like him, and Mairon often expressed disdain for Aiwendil and other Maiar like him.

Aiwendil, however, kept being kind to Curumo and wasn't bothered by his quirks and mannerisms, and after Mairon left, Curumo developed a soft spot for him and grew to appreciate his company.

Despite being known for being skilled in speech and persuasion, Curumo was actually never good when it came to voicing his feelings or needs, so it was often up to Aiwendil to make the first step.

Thankfully for both of them, Aiwendil may be a bit of an airhead, but he can be very direct and honest. He was also supported by Yavanna who kept encouraging him.

After ages of slow burn and growing closer, they were both sent on the Istari mission which involved their memories of their lives in Valinor being suppressed (cf. Unfinished Tales). This led to them going their own ways and drifting apart, especially once Curumo started talking to Mairon again and was corrupted by him. Mairon likely worked to isolate him from his peers and plant paranoid thoughts in his mind.

We all know how the story ends. But Aiwendil never gave up on Curumo; he searched for him after his hröa was slain and brought him home with him. He also refused to return to Valinor without him.

If Curumo was conscious enough in spirit-form after his death, he soon started regretting his deeds and that he fell for Mairon's lies (again) because his ego and ambitions blinded him and made him receptive to his influence. This may then lead to a genuine desire for redemption which Aulë in particular would support and Yavanna as well, so one day Aiwendil and Curumo may be allowed to return to Valinor together.

All in all, I see a story of growth and failure, of learning and falling back into old patterns and of two very different Maiar who become each other's unlikely companion. Maybe this is why Yavanna wanted Aiwendil to accompany Curumo. Maybe she thinks it's cute too.

[cilil]

✧˖° Day 2: Craftsmanship | Curumo x Aiwendil ✧˖° Synopsis: Curumo made a special gift for Aiwendil. ✧˖° Warnings: / ✧˖° Drabble

"I made this for you." 

Aiwendil's warm brown eyes widened and lit up when Curumo presented a birdhouse to him. After days of meticulous sketching, woodworking and painting, he had crafted what he believed to be the ideal home for the younger Maia's many feathered friends. Alas, his experience with this particular material was still lacking, but he had tried his best – and Aiwendil seemed to find no fault with it. 

"It's so beautiful," he chirped and held it up against a tree, then paused and glanced over his shoulder. 

"Umm, how do I...?" 

Curumo laughed. "Let me help you." 

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[i-did-not-mean-to]

can we get some Curumo x Aiwendil for the pride bingo?💕

I'm thinking gay rep/coming out/first date, maybe demisexual or demiromantic Curumo, also proud parent Aulë and/or Yavanna🏳️‍🌈☺️

Of course, my dear friend...

The Burning Bush

Words: 2.3k

Characters: Aiwendil x Curumo (Yavanna x Aulë), Background Angbang

Warnings: I have no experience with writing a demi-character, so this is a shot in the dark...

The first indication Curumo got of how different this day was going to be was the broad, knowing grin on Aulë’s face as he stormed into the forge, uncharacteristically late and a little flushed. His apprentices guessed—quite correctly—that it had been his revered wife who had kept him and avoided making any comment that might have ruined his mood.

The next clue was the insistent chirping of birds just outside—usually, the stench of fire and the loud ringing of hot steel being hammered into shape made the sensitive beasts flee as fast and as far as they could.

Nevertheless, he was entirely focused on his work and on the delicately interwoven design he had been working on in secret for so long; this time, he was sure, he would surpass Mairon and impress their master with the undeniable genius and quality of his craft.

“Curumo,” Aulë called as he walked along the workstations slowly, inspecting every single object his apprentices were working on. “I think someone is waiting anxiously to speak to you.”

Instantly, the young Maia’s eyes flitted to his rival—Mairon was a beguiling and annoying mystery to him—but his peer didn’t waste a single thought or glance on someone he deemed to be so woefully inferior. Rumour had it that he had found someone who had intrigued and interested him enough to get him to drop his haughty façade and invest a little more than his usual sneer into their communication.

Curumo could not deny that the mere thought made him feel weak and nauseous with envy—had Curumo himself been different, he would readily have believed and accepted that he was infatuated with Mairon, but, as things were, he was not sure if it was not merely his own pride and insecurity that drove him to desperately crave the approbation, admiration, and even affection of the Maia Aulë treasured and respected the most.

In a way, Curumo didn’t want to have Mairon or even be him—he wanted to surpass him, he yearned to humble him, and a wicked part relished in the idea of making the proud, arrogant, aloof bully bow to his skill and authority.

“Curumo?” Their master tapped a pair of heavy pincers against his workbench impatiently. “Don’t you want to go out and check on this? I’d rather not have you distracted at work.”

Bristling, Curumo wanted to bring to Aulë’s attention that he had had no prior knowledge of any interviews he was meant to attend and thus could not be discountenanced by their imminent occurrence, but he simply nodded and kept his peace as the whole forge had turned to him in curiosity.

Curumo liked being the centre of attention; of course, he would largely have preferred to awe his fellows with the supremacy of his output in the forge, but he was not above taking this moment in the spotlight when it was handed to him and so, he held his head high as he strode out of the workshop at a steady pace to deal with this unwelcome interruption.

“I am going,” Aiwendil muttered, half-heartedly swatting away the birds and other critters that dogged his every step to make sure that he could not turn around and dash off to hide in the deepest parts of the forest.

He had sought the counsel of his Lady Yavanna who had encouraged him warmly to seek out a private conversation with the object of all his desires.

For many cycles of the flourishing shrubs in their care, Aiwendil had been nurturing a seedling of stubborn hope and fragile affection within his own heart, sheltering it from the blazing fires of the forges and the icy winds of the turning seasons.

True to his nature, he watched and waited, unsure whether the tender sprout would find fertile soil, enough sun, and clement rains to keep it thriving and growing.

Many a time, he had almost hoped that adverse conditions would stifle it or that it would wither on its own. This state of nervousness and anticipation was embarrassing and distracting, and it would surely have been best for everyone involved if it just faltered and dissolved like premature blossoms nipped in the bud by a sudden cold.

Much too quickly though, that nascent crush took over more of his conscious thoughts than he wanted to admit.

Moreover, he couldn’t deny that the constant worry sapped him of all energy which made him feel excessively guilty as he owed it to Lady Yavanna to pour his heart, soul, and essence into their tremendously important work.

How humiliating it had been, at first, when she herself had called him to her side so she could investigate why one of her favourite Maiar had seemed so distracted and mysteriously saddened to her lately.

In halting words of intermingled apology and confession, Aiwendil had ultimately taken heart and had entrusted his most shameful and yet most cherished secret to her benevolent wisdom.

“These smiths always have their heads in some sulphurous cloud,” she had joked while pruning a young tree that—much like Aiwendil’s love—had grown too fast and too recklessly. “You have to lure him out of the forge and ask him directly whether he wants to accompany you to Manwë’s celebration.”

She had shrugged indulgently. “Being a smidgen oblivious to these things is, unfortunately, more common than you would believe—even amongst the most powerful and wise.”

Far was it from Aiwendil to doubt his Lady’s words or refuse her sage counsel and so, he had summoned all his courage and asked her leave to walk over to where Curumo was certainly absorbed by his daily tasks to offer him that fragile, tender-leafed heart of his without subterfuge or flowery dissimulation.

In spite of this decisive burst of initiative, doubt still gnawed at him from the inside like the pervasive rot that some dark power had implanted into the roots of their most beloved trees to weaken and fell them without a single blade having to be lifted against them.

While Aiwendil loved with all the reckless fervour of ivy sprawling across every space it could encroach upon, Curumo had always struck him as distant and even cold.

His favour was given reluctantly and to a chosen few only.

Even though Aiwendil could hardly understand how such a thing could be possible and what tremendous control over mind and body such a stance must demand, he could respect and accept the reticent nature of one who seemed so fair and honourable in his starry eyes.

Great, imperious, and often impatient, Curumo had indeed proven to be a good friend and a wise counsellor—he knew many things and enjoyed the confidence and the trust of the Valar and did not hesitate to share his knowledge and insight with even the least articulate and studious of his peers.

Lately, Aiwendil had been able to make a few remarks that had been witty and pertinent enough to win him a fond smile or a conspiratorial wink from Curumo and—shameful as it was to admit as much—these rare moments of complicity had been enough to coax the hesitant buds of his own infatuation into full bloom.

Every kind word, every approving smile, and every shared joke watered the frail growth until its vines constricted Aiwendil’s heart almost painfully.

“You can do it,” his faithful friends chirped and rumbled beside him, “you can fan those dignified embers into roaring flame. Your patience and benevolent modesty must prevail upon his own secret misgivings or doubts. Worry not, we are with you.”

Thus encouraged and supported, Aiwendil stopped outside the forge just as Curumo strode out, his face a mask of scowling disapproval and haughty impatience.

“Hello,” Aiwendil squeaked, betraying his nerves by the way his voice cracked in the middle of the word.

“Good day to you,” Curumo replied with a minute frown, “has something happened?”

He knew the small, furtive Maia to be exceedingly discreet and unobtrusive, so naturally, he was worried that some major catastrophe or emergency had brought him so far from his Lady’s sphere of influence,

“No…” The reply was slightly delayed and definitely hesitant. “It’s about the festival.” “What about it?” Even as he spoke the words and saw Aiwendil’s sweet face fall drastically, Curumo became aware of how harsh and querulous his question must have sounded. “Is there a problem? Do you need help with anything?”

“No.” This time, Aiwendil’s answer was fast and hard as a stone cast with all his might against an unyielding wall. “I…I wanted to ask you whether you would like to accompany me.”

“We are all expected to appear,” Curumo commented uncertainly, “and I’d surely never neglect my duties by not showing my face at such a momentous occasion.”

A pained groan escaped the other, making Curumo all the more anxious—he should have been in the forge, working on his project, instead of making a fool of himself by entirely missing the point if Aiwendil’s indulgent distress was anything to go by.

“Verily, it surely is so,” Aiwendil conceded, “but I wanted to invite you to spend the day by my side and share a meal with me, apart from our peers and friends maybe?”

Curumo had heard of such meetings—Mairon, it was said, indulged in them quite frequently—but he had never expected to partake in that particular kind of unnecessary folly himself. As he looked into the huge, hopeful eyes of someone who only knew selfless care and patient kindness, he found that he was not categorically opposed to the idea after all.

“Do you know what you are insinuating, little one?” he inquired, just to make sure that he had not, yet again, misinterpreted the situation by letting his own doubts and desires override his better judgement and knowledge.

Blushing, Aiwendil nodded slowly. This was the first time that he had ever dared to make such a request and he was terrified of the implications and potential consequences, but, now that the moment of truth had come, he stood his ground stubbornly.

He was very aware of the risk he was taking by petitioning someone whose form was too similar to the one he had chosen for himself while their essence was just a smidgen too divergent from his own sweet, gentle nature.

If Curumo was to react negatively to this invitation, Aiwendil might well be ostracised, punished, or worse for his trespass against the customs and unwritten rule of their kind—it followed quite naturally that, with everything that was on the line for him, he desperately hoped and wished that this would not be the case.

“So be it then,” Curumo heard himself say; a ripple of surprise and discomfort disturbed the calm self-control of his mien as he realised that he had not consciously decided to accept this invitation before the words had left his tingling lips.

Maybe this was a petulant attempt to show Mairon that he really didn’t care about the secret rendezvous the dismissive fire spirit apparently attended, or it was a despairing effort to overcome the natural disinterest that was as much part of his innermost truth as his sharp, calculating mind or his powerful, persuasive voice.

Either way, he had agreed to spend the day with one he thought of with a strange, melancholic mix of unfair disdain and unbridled envy more often than he let anybody, least at all Aiwendil himself, know.

Aiwendil caressed where others struck and his kindness was as enduring and steadfast as rock and iron—at first glance, his effaced, nervous way of comporting himself might make anyone believe that he was weak-willed and charmless, but that was not so.

Curumo was ashamed of how long it had taken him to realise just how precious that little wood creature was; as a matter of fact, that initial realisation had only led to a slew of others—all of them humbling and none of them humiliating—which he earnestly treasured and recalled whenever he felt his own pride and vanity get out of control within his untameable breast.

Far from being dull, Aiwendil—once he had gotten comfortable with another soul—could reveal and share fascinating secrets about the world they lived in and his benevolent awareness of all things living and thriving had oft nourished Curumo’s uninterrupted musings about existential questions for many a mingling.

“I…Oh, all right,” the young Maia now stammered, his face lighting up with a glow that seemed to combine the familiar light of the Trees and yet sublimated it into a unique gleam that could not be found anywhere else.

“You are aware that I am not…I am not used to this kind of togetherness. I do not want to disappoint you,” Curumo exclaimed passionately—how could he clothe into words those elusive skills, demeanours, and instincts he suspected were underdeveloped or even entirely lacking in him if he had no way of knowing what the presence of those traits would even feel like?

“Worry not,” Aiwendil promised, laying a comforting, reassuring hand on Curumo’s shivering forearm. “All things grow according to their season, their kind, and their own undisclosed destiny—I know, respect, and welcome that. I’ll let you return to your work, and I’ll see you very soon, I hope.”

As if he was afraid that his courage would fail him, he sauntered away quickly, blending into the bushes surrounding the forge like one of the critters that followed him everywhere he went.

There were too many things Curumo didn’t know and couldn’t predict to count them, but—as his eyes followed Aiwendil until he could no longer make out anything other than the softly swaying leaves of the distant trees—he felt warm and comfortable and that had to be enough for now.

@fellowshipofthefics Here is my first entry for the June Pride Bingo :)

As always, lots of love from me and special thanks to @cilil for submitting this beautiful prompt!

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Speak or forever hold your silence

This first request was written for @cilil who is not only a cherished friend, but also a dangerously inspiring author.

Here we go with another Curuwendil prompt LOL

AU Prompt: Poorly timed confession

Dialogue Prompt: Why are you looking at me like that?

Words: 803

Characters: Curumo x Aiwendil

Warnings: Nothing, pure fluff

It had taken half an eternity to get to this point, but—as he walked up to the forge—Aiwendil felt a little more confident that Curumo would actually be glad to see him.

They had spent vast stretches of time together lately, talking about their work and their passions, and Aiwendil no longer wanted to crawl into the nearest foxhole whenever the silence between them stretched out a little.

Of course, his heart was like the flowers and furtive beasts he tended so lovingly—all they needed were a little rain, a dash of sunshine, and a bit of time.

Curumo—on the other hand—needed blazing fire and heavy hammers to coax even the tiniest sliver of emotional ore from the unyielding stone that was his mind.

As he walked, Aiwendil became so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely noticed that he had already arrived at the foot of the mountain where he was supposed to meet his friend.

"Are you dreaming again?" Curumo laughed, extending a staying hand to prevent Aiwendil from barrelling straight into him.

"What? Sorry!" the other muttered, visibly embarrassed. "It is so lovely a day, and I had such joyous thoughts that I was not paying attention."

The bright, intelligent eyes of Aulë's Maia zeroed in on the gentle, friendly face before him with burning curiosity.

"Would you care to share those musings with me?" Curumo thus asked in his most compelling voice.

He knew Aiwendil not to be a secretive person—a welcome change amongst their peers, who habitually relished in keeping their secrets close to their chest.

To his astonishment and dismay, Aiwendil shook his head though, blushing beautifully even as he pressed his lips together stubbornly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked bashfully, his mud-stained hands lifted as if in a wordless plea for lenience. "It was nothing mean, I promise."

"Of course not," Curumo barked, more deeply vexed by his refusal than he cared to admit. "Even among the good and the virtuous, you are particularly exempt from malice."

Aiwendil flinched—even though the words themselves had been kind, he couldn't help but feel that there had been a hard, angry edge to that hypnotic voice he so admired.

Unable to bear the thought that he had ruined the fragile friendship and the trust they had built, he launched into an uncharacteristically wordy apology—if necessary, he decided in a fit of despair, he would lay his heart and all its desires bare.

No matter how painful it would be, he preferred that Curumo derided and pitied him for his hopeless crush rather than let distrust and resentment take root between them, choking the tender growth of affection he had been nursing so lovingly for so long a time.

"I like you," Curumo declared gruffly, rudely cutting off Aiwendil’s lengthy explanation.

Silence.

Aiwendil blinked in confusion—the avalanche of words pouring out of him had drowned out all other things, the song of the nearby woods and the echo of Curumo's steady heartbeat, and he was not at all sure whether he had heard those three words or if it was just his addled mind playing tricks on him.

"This is not how I wanted to tell you," Curumo groaned, lifting a slender hand to his dark brow in self-loathing. "I have prepared a picnic for us. You've been so kind to me—patient, supportive, and just overall lovely—and I wanted to do something nice for you in exchange."

"Oh, you don't have to," Aiwendil said quickly, but he drew closer, nonetheless. "I am inconsolable, but it seems that I have drowned out your words with my inane rambling."

"I like you," Curumo repeated, enunciating every syllable painstakingly. "I truly do."

A sheepish, but candid smile spread across his face.

"I did not mean to frighten you," he then added in a soft tone. "It seems that I was rather nervous about telling you—so you see, you're by far not the only one to have burst into impassionate speech at the seemingly wrong moment."

It was clear that Curumo did not fully trust his feelings, his words, and himself, but he straightened his spine and lifted his chin defiantly.

"Well," Aiwendil muttered after a long moment of tense quietude, "that is very fortunate, because—as you surely know—I have a lot of affection for you too. It is my honour and my pleasure to be good to you."

Scoffing to mask the surge of overwhelming weakness within his every bone and muscle, Curumo turned to the steep slope of the mountain, looming above their heads like a benevolent witness to their clumsy declarations.

"It certainly is harder for me," he then admitted, "but I am willing to give it my best shot. Let's go."

@fellowshipofthefics: Here's the first for this month!!!

Thank you, @cilil for being such a darling to me!

[cilil]

🍂 Prompt: Acorns 🍂 Synopsis: [Post-canon, 4th Age, Middle-earth] Curumo is still adjusting to his new body. Aiwendil does what he can to help. 🍂 Warnings: / 🍂 Triple drabble

AN: A gift to @i-did-not-mean-to because I wrote sad Curuwendil last time. Based on these headcanons, but the TLDR is that Aiwendil picked up poor Curumo after his wizard hröa was destroyed and - since he doesn't have the power to restore him fully - decided to turn him into a hedgehog that he now keeps as a pet.

"Curumo?" 

Aiwendil reached into the basket filled with freshly gathered acorns, only to be met with a hiss – which sounded more like a sneeze and not at all dangerous – and raised spines. It seemed as though his Maiarin companion was finally adjusting to his new form and even enjoyed exploring and eating, though he was certain this particular meal might be a little too much; these acorns were supposed to last for several days. 

Despite Curumo's best efforts to hide, Aiwendil scooped up the little hedgehog in his hands and walked over to his armchair to sit down. 

"You've taken a liking to acorns, hm?" he chuckled. 

Curumo continued to sniffle angrily and curled up, refusing to face the other Maia. 

"It's alright to get comfortable with this new shape of yours," Aiwendil said, carefully rolled him on his back and reached out with his index finger to give his nose a gentle, playful boop. "You know you'll have to stay like this for a while. I'm sorry I can't restore you fully or give you anything better, but maybe you can enjoy yourself a bit? Let loose and have fun?" 

A few acorns had fallen out of the basket when he had fished out his companion, and Aiwendil picked one up, an apologetic smile on his face. Curumo uncurled just enough to sniff it, then decided to accept the treat.

"They're for you if you want them, but you can't eat all of them at once or you'll get sick," Aiwendil said. 

Curumo still didn't deign to respond via ósanwë, but it seemed as though he understood. Smiling, Aiwendil placed a handful of acorns on his lap and watched him eat. It wasn't always easy, being stuck in incarnate forms as Maiar, having failed their mission and wondering if they had been forsaken by their peers and their lord and lady at home, but it was in moments like these that he was calm and felt like everything would be well in the end. 

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

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taglist: @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot @wandererindreams

[cilil]

Summer Stories

AN: These two just came to mind when I saw the prompt. @i-did-not-mean-to this is for you. Apologies in advance for a bit of angst XD (I swear it was an accident)

Prompt: Fireworks | Curumo x Aiwendil Synopsis: Aiwendil is excited about Olórin's fireworks. Curumo wishes he could make something like it as well. Warnings: /

"Curumo! Curumo, look!" 

Aiwendil kept tugging at his sleeve and pointing at the sky above them, prompting a sigh from Curumo. 

"Yes, dear, Olórin's fireworks. Very pretty," he said tonelessly, continuing his sketch. If only he could figure out how – 

"Don't you like them?" 

Unfortunately for him, Aiwendil wasn't as easily fooled after all, and the disappointment in his voice made his heart ache more than he would like to admit. 

No, Aiwendil, I don't. Because Olórin is creating another meaningless spectacle, yet those make you happier than the things I build, and I wish it was me who is making you smile like that.

But Curumo kept these thoughts to himself. As strong as his voice could be, expressing his feelings had never been his forte, nor did  candidness come easily to him. 

And so all he did was shake his head, averting his gaze to hide his shame, but he reached out with his free hand to place it on top of Aiwendil's. 

Don't worry. I like you a lot. I like being here with you.

Curumo hoped he would understand the silent message – and perhaps one day, he would have the courage to say it out loud.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging! ♡

taglist: @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot @wandererindreams

[cilil]

Day 2 Melkor ⋆⛧⋆ Mairon

Synopsis: Things seem perfect on Almaren, yet Mairon isn't as happy as he perhaps should be. Melkor waits for another chance to talk to him.

Warnings: /

Author's Note: Day 2 ficlets coming right up. Hope you enjoy!♡

The Maiar of Almaren were spending a quiet afternoon together, relaxing in the warm light of Illuin and Ormal and blissfully unaware of the Dark Vala watching them from the shadows. Yet Melkor hadn't come to spy on any of them, no, he was there for Mairon and Mairon only. 

His little flame was sitting cross-legged in the grass, idly toying with a small golden trinket as he watched his fellow Maiar's interactions with an air of indifference. Next to him, Eönwë was busy preening the fluffy white feathers on his wings, diligently checking and cleaning every single one of them; it appeared as though the brave herald had finally given up on trying to converse with Mairon after his previous attempts to do so had failed. Arien and Ilmarë were laughing and chatting while braiding flowers into each other's hair. Curumo was attempting to read a book, only to be interrupted time and time again by Aiwendil who was holding a tiny baby bird in his hands and kept showing it to him. Olórin and Melian sat together in silence, though their expressions made it obvious that they were engaging in avid conversations via ósanwe. 

The trinket Mairon was holding seemed to be a circular band of gold, shimmering in the sunlight as he beheld it from all angles. More pieces of jewellery like it adorned his lovely fána, several chains, bangles and bracelets encircling his ankles, thighs, wrists and upper arms, as well as a necklace with an amber pendant that matched his fiery eyes. Truly, it seemed to Melkor that his favourite Maia had turned his entire self into a work of art, framed by long, luxurious copper and golden curls. 

Unfortunately for Mairon, his peace was disturbed by Aiwendil's bright, lively voice as the smaller Maia attempted to convince both him and Curumo–though his big brown eyes remained fixated on the latter for the entire duration of their rather one-sided conversation–to go birdwatching with him later. Curumo seemed unsure at first, then he and Melkor alike saw how Mairon pursed his lips in thinly veiled disdain and declined the offer, stating he had more work to do, and the younger forge spirit quickly claimed he would do the same. 

The two Maiar of Aulë left soon after, Curumo following his colleague as soon as Mairon gracefully rose to his feet and walked away, and Melkor wasn't sure whether to be amused by this behaviour or angry that this silly little Maia was–unwittingly–ruining his chances to talk to his little flame alone. Eönwë chose not to comment, though the way he glanced at the two over his shoulder could be described as the polite version of a dirty look, and he offered to accompany Aiwendil instead; but Melkor was no longer interested in watching their conversation unfold and left before he could hear his response.  

He kept following Mairon until his favourite Maia finally managed to get rid of his unwanted companion and retreated to a hidden grove inside Yavanna's gardens where he proceeded to lounge on the cool, shadowy grass. 

"Do not think for a second that I am blind to your presence, Mighty One," he called out to the hidden Vala. "Surely you wouldn't believe that I have forgotten your song so easily?" 

"How flattering," Melkor mused, shadows coalescing in front of the undaunted Maia to form his accustomed fána. "Yet in the Great Music it didn't seem to be to your liking."

"I told you before that my feelings on such things never mattered. How do you propose would my voice make a difference while you compete with the Elder King and the One himself?" Mairon countered, but the dismay in his tone betrayed a feeling of defeat rather than true conviction.  

"And I told you it is a matter of choice first and foremost." Melkor smiled, knowing he had already won. "Are you happy with your choice, little flame? Are you content with your place in the grand symphony and the fate that others have assigned to you?" 

"Not really."

Mairon's response was surprisingly candid. 

Melkor sat down in the grass next to him so they were on eye level and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Well, perhaps we can still change that..." 

taglist: @angbangweek @asianbutnotjapanese @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @floraroselaughter @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot

angbang masterlist | main masterlist | tag list form

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Kinktober 2023

Ladies and Gents, here is the Masterlist for the Kinktober Challenge, brought to you by @cilil

Body worship & virginity - Caranthir x Finrod

Roleplay/role reversal/CNC & bondage - Thorin x OC/reader

Intercrural sex & wings - Day 1 - Gothmog x Eönwë

Bath/shower & incubi/succubi - Manwë x Ulmo

Cam & temperature play - Daeron x Maglor

Knotting & frottage - Finrod x Wolf-Sauron (dark)

Dirty talk & lingerie - Angbang

Voyeurism & dub-con/non-con - Gríma

(Pseudo) Incest & torture Fëanor x Fingolfin

Orgy & Predator/prey - Day 4 - Celegorm x Oromë x Aredhel

Size difference & friends/enemies with benefits - Glorestor

Breath play & humiliation/degradation - Maglor x Glorfindel for @maglor-my-beloved

Masturbation & massages - Ori x OC

Authority kink & oral - Russingon (for anon)

Somnophilia & impact play - Day 7 - Nerdanel x Anairë

Fingering & aphrodisiacs - Bagginshield

Blood play & wet dreams/dream sex - Nightmare!Irmo x Curufin

ABO & praise kink - Day 3 - Melkor/Maedhros for anon

Telepathy & sex worker/stripper - Gondolin ot3 (for @jaz-the-bard)

Crossdressing & pegging - Day 2 - Námo x Vairë (for @cilil)

Clothed sex & blindfolds- Finwë/Thingol

Electrostimulation & pet play - Finrod/Celegorm/Curufin for MoonLord

Knife/Sword/Gun play & cock warming - Fíli x OC/reader

Hand kink/gloves & toys - Celebrimbor x Narvi for anon

Daddy/Mommy & edging/OD - Théoden x OC/reader

Hate fucking & Emotional/therapy sex - Day 5 - Manwë x Melkor

Glory Hole & breeding kink/creampie - Maeglin x Gondolin (lol) for anon

Boots/feet & intoxication - Beleg x Mablung

Public & Biting/Marking - Day 6 - Curumo x Aiwendil

Tentacles & nipple play - Silvergifting

Extra: Monsterfucking, claustrophilia, mirror play, hypnosis/mind control, dumbification, oviposition, dacryphilia, voice kink, mistaken identity

ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ: Voyeurism, Virginity, and Sex Pollen - Gothmog x Eönwë, Thuri x Ilmarë, Russingon

I will try to write short ficlets for all of these ("try" being the keyword).

Please give it up for @cilil who has compiled this lovely list -> ✨post!✨

The original graphic is under the "read more" <3

And, as if this was not suicidal enough, I'll integrate the 7 days of @silmsmutweek into the roster (in green).

[cilil]

Summer Stories '24

⊹. Week 1 ⋆𖤓 ˚

𖤓 Reflections ~ Tilion x Írilómë (OC) 𖤓 Splash ~ Caranthir x Haleth 𖤓 Camping ~ Amrod & Amras 𖤓 Heatwave ~ Mairon x Khamûl 𖤓 Unexpected ~ Dior x Nimloth

⊹. Week 2 ⋆𖤓 ˚

𖤓 Storms ~ Maedhros x Fingon 𖤓 Exploration ~ Navëquen (OC) 𖤓 Ice ~ Melkor x Mairon 𖤓 Waterside ~ Ulmo x Manwë 𖤓 Dreams ~ Amarëa (OC) x Írilómë (OC)

⊹. Week 3 ⋆𖤓 ˚

𖤓 Fields ~ Glorfindel x Mentelossë (OC) 𖤓 Lost ~ Mairon x Witch King 𖤓 Starlight ~ Thranduil x Rauwen (OC) 𖤓 Gathering ~ Nerdanel x Nienna 𖤓 Feast ~ Gothmog & Nári (OC)

⊹. Week 4 ⋆𖤓 ˚

𖤓 Music ~ Airilin (OC) x reader 𖤓 Garden ~ Arien 𖤓 Sweets ~ Gothmog x Eönwë 𖤓 Critters ~ Caranthir 𖤓 Love ~ Ar-Pharazôn

Summer Stories '23

⋆. Week 1 ⋆☀︎ོ ˚

☀︎ Fireflies ~ Calamórë | Manwë x Námo ☀︎ Seaside/evenings ~ Námo x reader ☀︎ Beat the heat ~ Melkor x Gothmog ☀︎ Postcards ~ Bagginshield ☀︎ Evenings ~ Navëquen

⋆. Week 2 ⋆☀︎ོ ˚

☀︎ Ice-cold drinks ~ Melkor & Tulkas ☀︎ Summer festival + money shot ~ Angbang ☀︎ Campfire ~ Melkor x Maedhros ☀︎ Picnic ~ Fingolfin x Fëanor ☀︎ Shade ~ Eöl x Aredhel

⋆. Week 3 ⋆☀︎ོ ˚

☀︎ Grassy hillsides ~ Finarfin x Eönwë ☀︎ Summer storms ~ Manwë x Eönwë ☀︎ Roadtrip ~ Daeron x Maglor ☀︎ Cocktails ~ Gothmog & Irmo ☀︎ Suntan/freckles ~ Ossë & Círdan ☀︎ Suntan/sunburn ~ Angbang

⋆. Week 4 ⋆☀︎ོ ˚

☀︎ Poolside ~ Melkor x Nienna ☀︎ Stargazing ~ Glorfindel x Thranduil ☀︎ Dandelions ~ Mairon x Arien ☀︎ Fireworks ~ Curumo x Aiwendil ☀︎ Frozen treats ~ Ulmo x Manwë

Have fun ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[cilil]

rare pair bingo

Here's an overview of my progress for the TPC rare pair bingo!

So far, prompts have been combined with prompts from other series (and I might do that again if I start another drabble challenge), but I'm also open to suggestions for pairings and/or prompts as standalone pieces!

⸙ Hand Holding: Winter drabbles, Oromë x Vána

⸙ Staring from across: Femslash February, Galadriel x Amarië

⸙ Blushing: Curumo x Aiwendil

⸙ Getting lost: Femslash February, Uinen x Tar-Míriel

⸙ Gift giving: Femslash February, Lótelissë x Litsaiwa

⸙ Cultural misunderstanding: Winter drabbles, Manwë x Varda

⸙ Soulmate goose of enforcement: Anairë x Eärwen

⸙ First snowfall: Femslash February, Aredhel x Elenwë

⸙ And they were roommates: Míriel x Nerdanel

⸙ Flowers: Winter drabbles, Findis x Elemmírë

⸙ Candle light: Winter drabbles, Námo x Vairë

⸙ Hand feeding: Femslash February, Ungoliant x Thuringwethil

⸙ Free space - righteous fury: Mairon x Arien

⸙ Who did this to you: Femslash February, Arien x Ilmarë

⸙ Sparring practice: Winter drabbles, Eönwë x Arafinwë x Ingwion

⸙ Twinkle in their eye: Femslash February, Varda x Yavanna

⸙ Exploring a new place: Uinen x Elwing

⸙ Spin the bottle: Finrod x Caranthir

⸙ Horseback riding: Femslash February, Vána x Éowyn

⸙ Annoyances to lovers: Femslash February, Nári (OC) x Thuringwethil

⸙ Picnic: Winter drabbles, Irmo x Estë

⸙ Climbing a tree: Winter drabbles, Aulë x Yavanna

⸙ Workplace rivals: Winter drabbles, Maglor x Elemmírë

⸙ Hanahaki disease: Winter drabbles, Mairon x Arien

⸙ Drinking game: Tulkas x Oromë

𓆸 Prostate stimulation: Hador x Fingolfin

𓆸 Deep-throat: Fëanor x Manwë

𓆸 Body shots: Vána x Éowyn

𓆸 One-bar prison: Gothmog x Eönwë

𓆸 First time: Dark romance, Melkor x Mairon (x Arien)

𓆸 Leather: Mairon x Maeglin

𓆸 Fuck or die: Fingolfin x Maglor

𓆸 Strap-ons: Haleth x Caranthir

𓆸 Overstimulation: Dark romance, Glorfindel x Erestor

𓆸 Mutual masturbation: Screw Yule, Nienna x Nerdanel

𓆸 Humiliation: Turgon x Caranthir

𓆸 Predator/prey: Melkor x Ungoliant

𓆸 Free space - ritual: Dark romance, Mairon x Witch King

𓆸 Knotting: Screw Yule, Mairon x Finrod

𓆸 Phallic gags: Maglor x Imladris crew

𓆸 Medical kink: Fëanor x reader (2nd person)

𓆸 Glory hole: Fëanor x Finarfin

𓆸 Angry sex: Melkor x Manwë

𓆸 Masks: Maeglin x Lords of Gondolin

𓆸 Interspecies sex: Dark romance, Melkor x Maedhros x Fingon

𓆸 Naked sub/clothed dom: Ar-Pharazôn x Mairon

𓆸 Hypnosis: Elrond x River Spirit

𓆸 Messy sex: Glofindel x Erestor x Ecthelion

𓆸 Pet play: Dior x Amras

𓆸 Feet: Maglor x Lúthien

𓆸 Extra - handjob: Arien x Eönwë

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Luminous rebellion

Thanks to @cilil, I sink deeper and deeper into the pit of despair of this ship...

Nevertheless, it was a joy and an honour to write this for my friend for the July Summer stories :D

Words: 785

Characters: Curumo x Aiwendil, Aulë

Prompt: Evenings

Warnings: Sweaty man?

Curumo shook his head impatiently, sending tiny drops of perspiration flying in a haphazard pattern onto his cluttered workbench.

"Why are you still here?" Aulë asked, confused. He had encouraged his apprentices and workers to take the day off as it was a particularly glorious one.

"Why are you not paying homage to my wife's work by strolling through verdant meadows and observing long-legged deer graze peacefully?"

Barely taking the time to give his master an impatient look, Curumo rolled his shoulders and focused on this last, vital part of his work.

He could hear Aulë's heavy foot tapping the plain flooring of the forge impatiently.

"I have something to finish," he grunted and turned his attention back to the task at hand.

If Mairon had not made a major fuss by arriving late and dishevelled, he would already be done, Curumo thought, fighting down the flutter of nerves that made his stomach roil uncomfortably.

"There is someone waiting for you, I think," Aulë added in a muted tone. After having observed the handiwork of the young Maia for a time, he had finally understood what tremendously important work had kept him inside when their very essence was inexorably drawn to the wild outdoors.

"I know," Curumo moaned. He was late, he was so terribly late. He had promised Aiwendil that they would go down to the stream he so loved, and he had planned every moment of this day so meticulously that impuissant rage threatened to choke him as he realised how much of a mess he had made of things.

Undoubtedly, that nervous, endearing bundle of insecurities and sweet affection was already declaring him a lost cause. He would not leave though, Curumo knew, because Aiwendil was nought if not steadfast and patient. He deserved better!

This thought spurred Curumo on more than all the bright light and warm air in Valinor could have—he would not let Aiwendil doubt his word or his own worth!

When he had finally finished, his master gave him an appreciative nod. "That is well executed," Aulë praised, "now, go!"

All but running out of the forge, Curumo forgot about the deplorable state his hair and clothes were in; all he could think about was that Aiwendil was waiting unwaveringly and that he himself had solemnly promised not to desert him.

"Oh dear," Aiwendil cried out when he caught sight of the harried, wild-eyed expression on the other's face as he slithered into the clearing where they usually met. "I didn't want to keep you from important work. I am sorry!"

"Don't," Curumo barked breathlessly. "It is I who should be sorry for being so unpardonably tardy. Where are we headed then?"

When Aiwendil didn't move but only stared at him, nervous and visibly undecided, Curumo confessed that he had been looking forward to this outing all day.

He would never have admitted as much out loud, but nothing quite compared to seeing Aiwendil in his element—peaceful, calm, and enchantingly happy—and Curumo couldn't wait to witness that profound change in the usually so fretful and scurrying demeanour once more.

"Here," he said gruffly, pushing his brand-new creation, still hot from the welding, into Aiwendil's shaking hands. "I've made it for you, because...I don't want you to get lost."

It took a moment until Aiwendil managed to pry his admirative gaze from the strong, imperious Maia in front of him, but when he dropped it to the surprisingly heavy present, he couldn't swallow down a gasp of astonishment and deep-felt emotion.

"Oh," he whispered, tracing the intricate lines of the small lantern tenderly.

"I know that you follow your feathered and furry friends deep into the woods," Curumo explained awkwardly, "and I think that it's rather dangerous."

He could see that Aiwendil initially wanted to object and then thought better of it.

"That is ever so kind," he squeaked instead, "let me grab a candle and we can take it down to the stream, so we don't have to be back quite so early."

Curumo cocked one eyebrow—as far as he was concerned, they could stay out all night, watching the light change and the fireflies dance, but he had not expected Aiwendil to be willing to so blatantly disregard the rules of decency and the prescriptions of their respective Valar.

"I will send someone to let Lady Yavanna know," Aiwendil smiled patiently. "She'll understand."

Throwing a puzzled gaze back into the direction of the forge, Curumo nodded absent-mindedly. Yes, he thought, maybe she would.

"Well," he then said, pulling a candle out of his trouser pocket, "if Mairon can come and go as he pleases, I don't see why we couldn't. Lead the way."

@fellowshipofthefics here's the next one.

Lots of love and all my gratitude to @cilil 💖💖💖

[cilil]

cílil's sweet & spicy bingo

Here's an overview of my progress for the FOTFics sweet & spicy bingo!

The tldr: I'll try to include the themes on the squares in my current projects. Alternatively they can be attached to requests. For more information on current requests and details, please refer to this post.

‪‪♡ Flowers: Winter prompts, Melkor x Mairon

♡ Meet-violent (free space): Winter prompts, Thuringwethil x Lúthien

♡ Hand holding: Winter prompts, Nerdanel x Nienna

♡ Lace: Winter prompts, Vairë x Míriel

♡ Love at first sight: Winter prompts, Melian x Arien

♡ Love letter: Winter prompts, Tauriel x Arwen

♡ Soulmate: Winter prompts, Míriel x Indis

♡ Romantic dinner: Winter prompts, Nerdanel x Anairë

♡ Secret admirer: Femslash February, Galadriel x Melian

♡ First kiss: Femslash February, Nerdanel x Indis

♡ Sunset: Femslash February, Arwen x Éowyn

♡ Chocolate: Femslash February, Ilmarë x Nilmírëa

♡ Confession: Femslash February, Ncharr (OC) x Tar-Míriel

♡ Dance: Femslash February, f!Glorfindel x Mentelossë (OC)

♡ Stargazing: Femslash February, Varda x Uinen

♡ Moonlit stroll: Femslash February, Lalwen x Haleth

♡ Bubble bath: Femslash February, Varda x Nienna

♡ Candles: Femslash February, Nerdanel x Anairë

♡ Cuddling: Femslash February, Vairë x Míriel

♡ Strawberry: Femslash February, Vána x Nessa

♡ Proposal: Femslash February, f!Melkor x f!Mairon

♡ Blind date: Femslash February, f!Manwë x Indis

♡ Homemade gifts: Femslash February, Uinen x Elwing

♡ Secret relationship: Femslash February, Thuringwethil x Ilmarë

♡ Jewelry: Femslash February, Míriel x Indis

♥︎‬ Double penetration: Dead Dove December, Melkor x Varda

♥︎‬ Scent kink: Femslash February, Lúthien x Thuringwethil

♥︎‬ Outdoor sex: Femslash February, Yavanna x Melian

♥︎‬ Temperature play: Femslash February, Nári (OC) x f!Fëanor

♥︎‬ Praise kink: Dark romance, Arien x Eönwë

♥︎‬ Breeding: Dark romance, Míriel x Finwë x Indis

♥︎‬ Body worship: Dark romance, Írilómë x Amarëa

♥︎‬ Cuck (free space): Dark romance, Eönwë x Arien x Mairon

♥︎‬ Somnophilia: Dark romance, Glorfindel x Ecthelion

♥︎‬ Strip tease: Dark romance, Telimektar x Ingil

♥︎‬ Impact play: Dark romance, Melkor x Mairon x Maedhros

♥︎‬ Blindfolds: Screw Yule, Gothmog x Eönwë

♥︎‬ Size kink: Screw Yule, Mairon x Finrod

♥︎‬ Shibari: Screw Yule, Vairë x Caranthir

♥︎‬ Omegaverse: Screw Yule, Curumo x Aiwendil

♥︎‬ Dirty talk: Screw Yule, Eönwë x Arien x Mairon

♥︎‬ Edging: Screw Yule, Melkor x Mairon x Maedhros

♥︎‬ Lactation kink: Screw Yule, Aulë x Yavanna

♥︎‬ Orgasm control: Screw Yule, Irmo x Fëanor

♥︎‬ Cockwarming: Screw Yule, Ingwë x Manwë x Varda

♥︎‬ Sounding: Screw Yule, Melkor x Fëanor x Gothmog

♥︎‬ Voyeurism: Screw Yule, Maedhros x Fingon x Manwë

♥︎‬ Sex pollen: Screw Yule, Melkor x Sons of Fëanor

♥︎‬ Nipple play: Screw Yule, Ar-Pharazôn x Mairon

♥︎‬ Marking: Screw Yule, Gothmog x Fingon

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Survival/Wilderness Fic & Hair Brushing/Braiding

Happy New Year everyone! It's me, same as yesterday, no rest for the wicked!

@fellowshipofthefics is back with a new monthly event...so here I am <3

Thank you kindly to @cilil for always indulging me <3

Prompts: Survival/Wilderness Fic & Hair Brushing/Braiding

Pairing: Aiwendil x Curumo

Requester: @cilil, my beloved

Words: 1 100

Warnings: sexual innuendo, tension

At first, Aiwendil didn’t want to say anything—he was so happy and proud that Curumo had agreed to accompany him on a foraging expedition that he was afraid that any criticism he might have expressed regarding the outfit and general demeanour of his friend would only end up dismaying the prideful Maia.

Even worse, Curumo could decide that this whole enterprise was too silly for him and return home to his forge and hardy companions, leaving Aiwendil heartbroken and alone.

Usually, Yavanna’s devoted, soft-spoken Maia would not have thought of himself either as a coward or as a disingenuous creature, but—when it came to Curumo—he had to admit that many of his best resolutions and most solid moral principles were insidiously amended and corrupted by the overwhelming desire to please and impress one so accomplished and masterful in his own right.

As they made their way through an increasingly dense patch of wild underbrush, though, Aiwendil’s soft, compassionate heart was no longer able to bear the muted grunts of discomfort and pain his diligent companion uttered time and again.

“Dearest,” he said very softly, lifting a tender hand to express his benevolence and controlling his face to erase even the last vestige of patronising indulgence. “I should have warned you that it would not be an easy trek—forgive me for being so thoughtless!”

Turning around to Curumo, he caught sight of a multi-coloured array of twigs and leaves, deeply enmeshed in the silken strands of his fellow’s unbound hair. Indeed, Aiwendil could retrace their whole path by analysing the entangled layers of greenery and nought else.

“I’m quite all right,” Curumo declared haughtily, but—in a moment of weakness and vanity—he tried nevertheless to extirpate a particularly pesky branch that was dangling mockingly from a lock falling messily into his dour face. “There is no need to change anything to your habits on my account!”

“I am not,” Aiwendil cried immediately, waving his sensitive, soft hands to and fro. “Nevertheless, allow me to take care of your beautiful hair."

Curumo’s face froze into a mask of unequivocal vexation.

“We’re halfway there, and the weather will hold. Surely, you would not deny me a break? Remember, unlike you, I am not used to strenuous physical exertion,” Aiwendil cooed and started moving again, leading his beloved friend, for whom he harboured the most tender, vulnerable, and laughably hopeful affection, to a sunny clearing within a ring of benevolent old growths.

Uttering a deep sigh of feigned fatigue, he let himself drop to the soft grass and looked up at Curumo expectantly. “Join me, please!”

“If you so say so,” Curumo muttered under his breath—his face was high in colour, and Aiwendil would have loved to know whether it had been his offer or the tiring trek through the foliage that had painted that stern, angular visage such a gorgeous shade of sunset pink.

It was not customary for Maiar of different vocations to touch one another in so intimate a fashion if there was no immediate, pressing need for such an intervention, and they were both painfully aware of that fact when Curumo wordlessly slotted himself between the other’s spread thighs.

His back was straight and tense, and his long-fingered, skilled hands were folded neatly in his lap as he waited for the unspeakable to happen.

Overhead, a few birds chirped their alarm.

“You have such a beautiful voice,” Aiwendil whispered into Curumo’s ear. “Compelling, mighty, enchanting—would it be too impertinent of me to ask for a song? My friends are surprised to find you here, and they would certainly love to hear you sing.”

Unseen—for he still had his back resolutely turned to those soft, pleading eyes—Curumo gave a low grunt of annoyance; he was hardly the kind of being who easily countermanded his dignity by warbling to foolish, feathered creatures.

Before he could make his refusal known, though, warm fingers slid into the hopelessly knotted strands of his hair. With the skill and delicacy of a small critter foraging for berries, Aiwendil had begun the arduous task of freeing Curumo’s head from the manyfold mementoes of their forest walk.

The silence—only disturbed by the demanding chatter of the birds and the muted rustle of discarded greenery—soon became unbearable, so Curumo resigned himself to his unseemly fate of serenading the avian inhabitants of the idyllic meadow while his most cherished friend carded his diligent digits through his messy hair.

Every time Aiwendil’s blunt nails raked across his scalp, Curumo’s harmony faltered a little as he had to bite down a visceral moan of pleasure and illicit greed—Aiwendil, he thought, was far too seductive for his own good.

No doubt, the little fellow thought of himself as being a good, helpful friend even as Curumo battled the least amicably pure thoughts he had ever conceived.

“Will you permit me to braid your hair?” Aiwendil asked, a little breathlessly, when he had finally finished fishing out the last debris. Curumo’s hair ran like a magical waterfall—warm but dry—across his palms, and his heart broke at the mere thought of having to let those smooth locks fall to bony shoulders never to be touched again.

“Braid?” Curumo mused aloud, astonished and discombobulated. He had always admired the intricate hairdos Mairon favoured, and—admitting that Aiwendil probably knew best what lay ahead of them yet—he ultimately agreed.

“I think we’ll take the scenic view,” Aiwendil babbled as he started plaiting with calm, rhythmical efficiency. “It will take a little longer, but at least the path is wide and mostly clear.”

“Thank you,” Curumo croaked throatily. “I think I’d like that. How did you enjoy my performance then?”

He was desperate to distract both of them from the heat flaring in his cheeks and gnawing on his insides.

“I loved it,” Aiwendil admitted with unashamed enthusiasm. “It was beautiful, as everything else about you. There—I am done. If I may say so myself, this is quite a successful tress.”

Fingering the thick braid falling over his shoulder now, Curumo smiled to himself. His hair smelled like verdant plants and wildflowers, and he would relish the scent for as long as he could.

Reconciled and merry, they took up their wandering once more.

“Oh, I just remembered,” Aiwendil then said when they reached a plateau, overlooking the vast valley at their feet. “We’ll soon pass a hot spring…Do you care to take a bath to soothe those sore muscles?”

Curumo pondered an instant. “Will you redo my braid after?” he grinned.

@fellowshipofthefics Here's the first one. 01/01/2024 - I am punctual!

Lots of love from me!

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