#Valas has one drink

[solvicrafts]

I can't wait to start making all the girls and creating cute pajamas for them, too.

Vierna, Yvonnel, Minolin Fey, and Dab'nay are gonna have the BEST sleepover parties ever.

[vioranhyperfixation]

How Tim discover Jason is alive In this au

Rafi, trying to bond with tim. But doesn't understand Tim mind so they decided to just have Tim play a new character in Rafi story.

Tim : her name is valarine, she is a vampire who doesn't want to drink blood but is forced to because of her nature.

Rafi : *rising his voice* oh my god, we encounters another narsistic vampire atla!

Tim : what?

Rafi : ah?

Tim : we're starting now?

Rafi : yeah?

Tim : I just starts describing my character!

Rafi : well we don't do that. The story discover things by their own experiences! So what she did just now is narrating herself, which is a very narsistic thing to do.

Tim : damn it.

Rafi : anyway, *raising his voice* do you think she is related to valamioracartelavonse?

Tim : heh, vala? I would know somebody with the same name as me!

Rafi : *voice raised* no! Valamioracartelavonse! It's all one word! Her name is valamioracartelavonse not vala. I might call her with curses and all but I won't just assigned her a random name couse she has a long name, that's uneducated.

Tim : what else do you call her then?

Rafi : that bitch who's supposed to die long ago but haven't died yet.

Tim : shorter one?

Rafi : oh, villian wannabe.

Tim : like the one from the crime alley kind or government kind?

Rafi : dunno, American guy the one who nickname her that.

Tim : American guy, yees, American guy. Isn't it the time you tell us who he is, like, we are trying to bond here, so I want to know about you as you're about me. Although it's fine if you want to take your time.

Rafi : ah yes, uhhh. Jason! Yes I think his name is Jason! Jason todd is the name you should probably be familiar with, I think that's the name.

Tim : haha, good joke.

Rafi : what? No, it wasn't a joke, that's American guy name. I would know.

Tim : he died years ago.

Rafi : and he got revived somewhat long ago.

Tim : he died by the hands of joker! And his dead isn't a joke!

Rafi : well I know! And he get back to gotham a few years ago!

Tim : that joke is terrible! Don't go around bringing dead siblings to people!

Rafi : well he ain't dying the last time I see him you Bullhead!

Rafi : here!

Tim :

Rafi :

Tim :

Rafi : ...

Rafi : do you.. Not know?

Tim :

Rafi : god I need to say sorry to American guy. God he's gonna nag my ear off. Give me my phone back!

Tim : the fuck. You have his number!?

Rafi : of course I have his number! Why would i not? I mention him multiple time since my first arrival!

Tim : I don't know that's my supposed dead brother at that time!

Rafi : well I thought you know that I know you know that I know and we just don't talk about that!

Tim : then explain it to me!

Rafi : well first of all, he alive now!

Rafi : second of all, it ironic how he call valamioracartelavonse the one who supposed to be dead long ago but haven't yet here there is.

Tim :

Rafi : I'm coming back tomorrow once you are done with your breakdown, good luck🤞

[allkordelia]

Keep Me in Your Thoughts (4)

The day started winding down until stats covered the sky. I dine in the hall of nine with my family, I stayed quiet the whole dinner with my father as he wore a unbothered look on his face, my mother look at me throughout the dinner with a concern look. The childern did most of the talking as they talk about the usual, one of the servant was pouring me my eightth glass of wine since I sat down, when a man rush in going to my father and whispering in his ear.

My father look at me and my mother before giving a curt nod to the man, he push his chair back and stood up straight.

"I am turning in for the night," he said kissing his wife before turning to his childern and grandchildren, "Goodnight, my sea dragons." They smiled and bid goodnight to their kepa and grandsire as he past them, he walk out of the room not sparing me a glance.

I glance away looking back at my plate that was still full of red meat and vegetables, I sigh into my cup downing the wine and feeling the sweet fuzziness that starts slowly consuming me.

"She had enough." My mother said looking at me from across the table with her own cup in her hand, I stare at her as the servant stop midway from pouring me another cup.

"I don't think she has." I held up my cup for servant to pour, only for them to stop when my mother spoke up again.

"I say that you have." She gave me a stern looking making me roll my eyes as I set my empty cup down.

"I am an adult, mother. If I wish to have another drink I think I should, especially with the day I had." I whispered the last bit to myself making her tilt her head to the side as she look at me, she turn her head and told the childern it was time for bed making them moan and complain about how it was still early . She gave them a that look only a mother can conjure up making them sigh, as baelor followed behind his sister and brothers.

"Goodnight." I said watching them walk away up the stairs to their chambers, I turn back in my seat looking at my mother.

"When the last time you and Vala talk." My mother asked, I furrowed my brows confuse.

"What do you mean, like a sex talk?" She shook her head moving from her seat to where my father was previously.

"No, just talk about how she is or how she been faring." I thought about it and I don't think we every really talk in that way, she spends most of her time with her septa or in the library. The only time we talk is during dinner but that just me asking how her day have been.

"I don't think we have, she doesn't really talk to me about anything....now thinking about it, I feel as if we are strangers to one another." I look at my mother with a small frown before asking why, she look at me for a moment and shrug one shoulder, she lean back in the chair before speaking.

"She seems a bit...detached." I furrow my brows, valaena never gave off being distant or off, but than again you didn't spend that much time with her to know.

"Do she?" An unsettling pit nested inside your gut at being so blind to your daughter behavior, I tried to be there for my other childern and keep tabs on them. But, when baelor came along it was hard to focus on the triples, but I still try to be there for them.

"It's probably nothing to fret about, she probably sense something is wrong. She's a very punctilious child, my dear." That only made my frown deepened, if my daughter notice I am not happy than she will expect that something is wrong and will console her brothers on the matter, and soon they start asking questions, I'm not sure I'm ready to answer those quite yet.

"Yes, uhmm..." I nodded before clearing my throat, "I should get to bed, it's getting late." My mother's hand stop me from leaving the table making me look at her in question.

"You shouldn't hold in your thoughts, my daughter. I can see you are in pain, your father told me what happened at the small council." I look away from her ashamed, "I am not angry nor disappointed with you, you were never suppose to be in that predicament. " My mother rubbed my knuckles making me look at her through my eyelashes.

"Especially at such a young age." She mumbled with a ping of sadness and regret as she look up at me.

"Some would say 10 and 2 is a reasonable age to get married, mother." I jest, my mother gave me a look making me squeeze her hand.

"You told me that I should never blame myself for something that was out of my control, so do not do the same, I am grateful that you tried to save me." A small smile tug on her lips at my words, but I could still see she still felt responsible for my misfortune.

"I always thought you didn't forgive me for not trying harder. I thought that's why you prefer to talk to aemma about your troubles than me, " she let out a humorless chuckle, "...even thought you liked her more than me." She said sheepishly looking away.

I look at her in disbelief, "Mother. You know that's not true." She look at me with a sad eyes.

"Isn't it? You never answered any of my letters, you barely visited, it seems ever since you got pregnant with baelor you cut off all communication with us." She sigh as she shook her head, I bite the inside of my cheek out of gulit, I never meant to do that, I was so blind sided with being pregnant again that everything that was happening made it hard to think or do anything.

"And when I did visit you, you look so tired and blemished. Your smile never reached your eyes anymore, your laughs feels forced and empty, I hate what he done to you, rhaelle." I look at my mother and sigh.

"I know and I hate that I caused you so much grief all these years, but it's over now and what me and aemma had wasn't as close as a bond like you and I. She could have never replaced you...never." I look deep in her violet eyes, so she know that I was telling the truth, my mother search my eyes before nodding slowly as she put her other hand on top of mine.

"Will you ever let me inside that sweet little head of yours, my girl." I smiled at her, my lips kissed her knuckles before her cheek.

"In due time, mama. In due time."

I closed the door to Aeron's room, before moving down the hall to Valaenas', since she was close to my old chambers. I quietly walked in looking around, my eyes landed on my daughter's sleeping form on the bed. I further in closing the door behind myself as quiet as I can, before walking to her bed, her back was towards me as I took a seat on the edge of the bed. My hand moved some of her white hair out of her face to get a clear look at her, she looked so peaceful, I smile to myself, she look exactly like me when I was her age. I bite the inside of my cheek at the fact that she looks exactly like me when I married otto, I close my eyes as I felt a sob inside me wanting to come out.

"I'm so sorry, my darling." I sniffled, I leaned in kissing her temple, my lips linger there for a moment before I pulled away.

I left her room shortly going to my chambers, as I open the door, my heart in my chest jump when I saw a figure sitting on my windowsill.

"Pardon for the fright, my lady." Daemon said turning away from the outside world to look at me, I removed my hand from chest and let out a huff. I shut the door before walking up to him, he stood up and met me halfway.

He tower over me like a dark cloud ready to spit lightning at me, "What are you doing here." I asked.

"Your father invited me over, he wanted to talk–" I put my hand up stopping him from continuing.

"No, I meant in my room. What are you doing here in my room." His eyes gaze down at me, he put his hands behind his back before he leaned his weight on his heels.

"I came in here...to apologize." He said sounding a bit hesitant, I raise my brows at him, I cross my arms over each other before motioning for him to go on.

"I am so sorry, rhaelle..." he started, "I was so angry and so–I can not put in words how awful I feel about what happened, I shouldn't have said what i said, it was uncalled for and I'm just sorry. " My body rock as I listen to him, I don't know what I should say, should I say thank him or should I tell him to go to hell. I honestly don't know how to react, on one hand i feel relieved that I am no longer tied to otto or the red keep anymore, but on the other I am in one of the worst position known to woman and my childern may pay for it.

"Rhaelle? Did you hear what I just said." I snap my attention back to him, he look at me waiting for me to answer, I nod my head in response.

"Yes, I heard you." I moved from in front of him to where he was previously, I could see the sprinkle of rain outside as I came closer to the window.

"Good. I just wanted to get that off my chest, just incase." I turn around to find him around already looking at me.

"Incase what?" He took a couple of steps before he was right in front of me, I look away moving my eyes to train on anything but him.

"Incase I meet the stranger in the stepstones," I snap my eyes up to his own.

"You and my father are going to the Narrow Sea," he nod, "You can't...you–your brother said no, you both can't just leave and start a war."

"Actually, your husband said no and my brother aimlessly agreed." I scoff softly moving my hand to move over my mouth at this, I didn't know much of what was happening in the narrow sea, only that it was causing problems for your father's ships and that the king and his hand wasn't doing much to help.

"This is a bad idea, daemon. If you both disobey the king you both can get in big trouble, more my father than you." Daemon moved my hair behind my ear with his fingers, before trailing them along my cheek and under my chin.

"Your father is a grown man and so am I, and my dear brother will do nothing, and wanna know why." I didn't make a move to say anything as he continued, "because deep down he knows that your father is right, and that otto is wrong. That is why I am going." I look at him for moment thinking about what he said.

"Are you two atleast getting help, I heard sellswords are worth a bag of gold each for their services." Daemon smile down at me, I swallow the lump in my throat when his hands came up to my face to caress my cheeks.

"Spoken like a true ruler of diftmark." I roll my eyes at his comment, before I could say anything, he lips captured my own making me gasp as his tongue slip in.

He lift me to sit on the windowsill as he attack my lips, I whimper when I felt his warm hands grip my thighs. I moan trying to will myself to pull away, but his warm body against my cold one made me want to keep him close.

"Daemon, we need to stop." I breathe out finally moving my face away from his addicting lips, but that didn't stop him from kiss my expose neck and shoulder.

"Why? Afraid your father catch his precious daughter in such scandalous position." He mumbled against your neck as he hold you close to his body now.

"Matter of fact, yes. It's bad enough that his daughter just got out of a eleven year marriage, seeing me like this with you of all people will definitely make matters worse." Daemon chuckle after he stop nibbling on my sweet spot, he move to look at me with a lazy grin.

"Who cares let's enjoy the moment we have togther, before I have to depart and you leave back to your reptilian cunt of a husband." He move back to nibbling my neck as I look ahead unmoved and trying to register what daemon just said, I pulled his face back and looking at him to see if he was being serious.

"You don't know." He look at me confused.

"Know what."

"My marriage. It been annulled on the count of my infidelity with you." I watch as daemon took a step back from me, his face was unreadable as he cross his arms.

"When?" He asked.

"This morning." He sigh hiding his face with his hand, I watch as rub his face roughly before removing them.

"I will fix this..." he said determined looking at me, I tilt my head to the side as I leaned against the cold glass window with my legs crossed over the other.

"Why?" I asked, he furrowed his brows at my response, "I mean as much as I hate how this all ended, I am relieved that it happened." He look lost for words as he stared at you a bit muddled.

"But, what about what you said," I shrugged my shoulder before moving off the windowsill and leaning against it.

"I would rather remarry than have my daughter lose her childhood for my mistakes, I will take whatever husband my father gives me to make up for my insolence." Daemon hand went up to the back of his head and rub it, he shook his head and sat at the end of the bed with his head in his hands.

"This is all my fault," He said muffled through his hands, I tilt my head to the side before walking over to him to sit next to him. I put my hand on his back and rub it.

"In what way, my dear." He exhale pulling his face out of his hands and resting his chin on his closed fist.

"I should have never laid with you that night." He said solemy, my hand stop rubbing his back at his words, I pull from him and rest my hand on my lap hurt by his words.

"Are you saying you regret being with me?" I ask with my eyes focus on the driftwood dress in front of me with a wide painting of the ocean hanging on the wall.

"No, of course not. I just...I regret not waiting a bit longer when you were older to start pursuing you," I snorted as I move to sit criss cross on my bed.

"You mean sex." I spoke.

"What." He looked at me.

" You regret not waiting when I was a bit older to have fuck me, Is that why we never did it again after that?" I look at him as he turn his head away from me to look at the floor.

"Part of it." He whispers still not looking at me.

"And the other?" I questioned curious to hear why after that night we never lay togther again.

He sigh, bowing his head looking like he was struggling to get the words out, "Daemon." I pushed as the silence bewteen us was becoming unbearable, he groan exasperating as he got up to face me.

"I do not wish to talk about this." He pique, I look at him wary a bit at his change in behavior, "I should go." I was quick to move off my bed and towards the door blocking his way.

"Rhaelle, move." I shook my head making he glare at me, "Rhaelle," he warned, but I did not budge.

"No, I want to know why and want to know why you left me, I want to understand what I did to make you leave. " He shook his head coming close to me.

"You did nothing–"

"You say that, but just a week after we laid togther you left with no warning...no goodbye." My chest tighten as I spoke, "You thought I would hate you, but I didn't not even after you left, I still...cared about you and when you left again, I couldn't bring myself to hate you even after the horribble words you spoke. "

"You don't know, how you feel about me." He said.

"And you do?"

"No, but i do know that your still too young to understand, I care for you, so deeply, but..." he let out heavy sigh, "I can't be with you...not yet anyways, because when I see you again. I want to see a woman not the lonely young girl that I found in the garden." I clenched my jaw and look away, I shrug his hand away and move from the door.

"Don't bother waiting for me then, because when you get back. I will be long gone and that "lonely young girl" you put it will be grown, and will be doing fine without you." My body hit my bed with my back towards him, my arms wrap across my chest as I stare at the stone wall.

"Make sure no one sees you leave." Was all I said, I didn't hear anything for a moment until the creak of the door and the soft click it made when it closed.

@beggarsnotchoosey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @green-lxght @stormgirlfriendd

[trainofcommand]

Wonder what's going on over at the Stargate Kink Meme? We've got fills and we've got prompts!

First, links to a few fills:

Held, by anonymous: Cam/Vala, nc-17, bdsm, edging, praise kink, leather kink. Holy smokes, this fill is hot hot hot. I may be biased, because it was my (anonymous) prompt, but dang, this fill is amazing.

Untitled, by @chaos-monkeyy: Mature, Evan Lorne/Atlantis, tech-tentacles, Dubcon but like light-hearted dubcon. Okay, this was also my prompt, a sample one, and I'm excited that it got filled. It's fun and Lorne definitely has a good time.

Untitled, by anonymous: Ass Worship, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, E, mild restraint. Looking for a little worship of Rodney McKay's round ass? This one's for you.

There are more fills over there too!

Now onto a smattering of prompts:

Rodney/Carson, medical kink: Rodney gets hard during a routine medical check-up (including prostate exam). Carson is into it.

Elizabeth/Teyla - vampire au, blood drinking: Love the Wraith as energy vampires. Love a good old-fashioned bloody regular vampire AU as well. + Any other vampire tropes you love as well.

Sam/Cam/Daniel, Double penetration: Sam takes them front and back, and they all have a very good time.

Vala/Teal'c - Undercover in a Bar: Vala and Teal'c, undercover in a bar offworld, suddenly they discover they have not been invited to an auction of stolen goods, but are in the middle of an orgy, and there's only one way out.

Weir/anyone - Post-Lifeline: How do you cope after you've lost everything and everyone you've loved? Random pickups. It's Ladies Night at the edge of the universe.

Sheppard/McKay, noncon and aftermath: Give me literally anything where Rodney noncons John. Episode tag to "Irresistible"? Aliens made Rodney do it? dark!Rodney? Deliberate? A misunderstanding? Anything! + for self-victim blaming, + for Teyla, Ronon, or Ford finding out despite John trying to hide how upset he is.

All this and more over at the first prompt post!

[edensrose]

. ˚◞♡ 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕lo, manwë súlimo clad in sapphires, ruler of the airs and wind, is held lord of gods and elves and men, and the greatest bulwark against the evil of melko

. ˚◞♡ 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦◞ꕥ

꒰ he can't help it, you're just so pretty to look at ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬◞ꕥ

꒰ you decide to play the 'I want a baby prank' on him ꒷꒦ texts ꒷꒦ ft. valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬?◞ꕥ

꒰ you're at a party and you ask him to hold your drink ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴?◞ꕥ

꒰ you adore messing with him, so you decide to dodge his kisses ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬◞ꕥ

꒰ seems like he forgot what knocking is and walks in on you changing ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯◞ꕥ

꒰ he really tries not to, alas he can't help but get a bit jealous ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft.ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦?◞ꕥ

꒰ he knows it's silly, but he can't help to see green with your ex around ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴◞ꕥ

꒰ he just so happens to walk in on you crying ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

. ˚◞♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘵◞ꕥ

꒰ manwë's young heart flutters when he sees you in the timeless halls ꒷꒦ drabble ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴◞ꕥ

꒰ he's so comfortable, how could you not fall asleep on his lap? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘵◞ꕥ

꒰ you gift him the news of your successful pregnancy ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ

꒰ manwë can't bring himself to abandon the spawn of his brother and so raises them himself ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴◞ꕥ

꒰ he wakes up to you lost in nightmares and comforts you ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴◞ꕥ

꒰ manwë súlimo is the type of lover to. . . ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩◞ꕥ

꒰ how he acts with his chubby-faced s/o ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

. ˚◞♡ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦◞ꕥ

꒰ manwë finds himself at the foot of utumno, begging the one he calls brother to return ꒷꒦ drabble ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 ◞ꕥ

꒰ it's something that he has always feared, losing you ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶◞ꕥ

꒰ tragedy strikes a day before you can wed the man that you love — manwë. and all thanks to a debt. turns out that in order to pay for their sins, your family gives you up to none other than a notorious name in the business world: melkor, who has taken quite the liking to you. what happens when you're forced to break things off with your fiance with but a text? ꒷꒦ modern au ꒷꒦ 2.5k ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘢 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴◞ꕥ

꒰ what was once a friendly training duel between you and your king has now morphed into a duel of hearts — with none other than the new dark lord ꒷꒦ dark!manwë ꒷꒦ drabble ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘦◞ꕥ

꒰ after witnessing his fall from grace, you take it upon yourself to put a stop to manwë's corruption. the result? going against the vala you've served for eons, in a sword duel ꒷꒦ dark!manwë ꒷꒦ drabble ꒱ ₊˚⊹

. ˚◞♡ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵◞ꕥ

꒰ melkor decides that it's about time he teaches his brother a thing or two about pleasuring a women, what better way to practice than on his doll of a maia? how could you possibly pass up a chance at being bedded by two valar? ꒷꒦ 2.9k ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ

꒰ surely your beloved wouldn't mind a few dirty texts while he's a work, right? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯?◞ꕥ

꒰ you decide to surprise your lover by asking him to join you in the shower ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘴◞ꕥ

꒰ ever wondered what his cum tastes like? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦◞ꕥ

꒰ manwë decides he could spare a few more minutes if it means making you cum all over his desk ꒷꒦ modern au ꒷꒦ drabble ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳◞ꕥ

꒰ your first time with the elder king ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮◞ꕥ

꒰ after what appeared to be another stressful meeting of the valar, manwë seeks you out as a means to let off some steam ꒷꒦ 1.4k ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱?◞ꕥ

꒰ he just so happens to stumble in on you touching yourself. . . and decides to watch ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳◞ꕥ

꒰ you find yourself bedded by the elder king's herald, with manwë instructing him just how to fuck you ꒷꒦ 1.5k ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘶𝘣𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘶◞ꕥ

꒰ you just so happen to accidentally summon an incubus ꒷꒦ multiwork ꒷꒦ ft. valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹

. ˚◞♡ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ

꒰ yandere alphabet with manwë ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ 1k followers event ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘶◞ꕥ

꒰ the ever deadly, ever-charming leader of one of the most renowned mercenary syndicates in arda takes an interest in you ꒷꒦ dark!manwë ꒷꒦ multiwork ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

[anderstrevelyan]

Hey! I’d love to see night orchids and daggerroot 💜

hi!! (answering questions about my WIPs here)

This one's a series of scenes between Valas DeVir, my Dark Urge, and Shadowheart: a pair of amnesiac half-elf clerics who don't yet know they share a mother figure. The title comes from a version of the wine-date scene where they talk about their favourite plants.

And here's a bit I've never shared before (for context: when he wakes up without his memories, Valas is under the false impression he's a cleric of Kelemvor):

“You let him do it again,” Shadowheart says, joining him. He only then realizes, at her not-a-question, that he’s been fingering the skin on his neck—though he’s sure he healed it well enough this morning before gathering his bedroll. She’s proven adept at reading him, as they’ve talked at camp, both shyly admitting to the fog in their minds. He doesn’t bother to deny it, and he’s ready to argue everything he’d said to himself and the rest of them the first time—that they need everyone strong, that he has blood to spare, that it’s no trouble to heal himself at dawn’s light—but she surprises him with how she breaks the silence. “Can I ask about your faith?” It’s occurred to him, too. Everything he should believe, as an adherent of Kelemvor: He shouldn’t have turned a blind eye to obvious signs of the undead. He should have driven a stake through Astarion’s heart the moment he knew for sure. He really, really should not be letting him drink from his neck. If Kelemvor’s truly out there watching him, guiding him, a central part of who he is—he’ll react. He has to. Valas leans against the half-wall of stone and squints against the sun. She settles beside him, facing out to the village, too. “I keep trying to reach out to him, to pray. I don’t remember how it felt before. But it can’t have been so empty. Not like this. Yet—” he brings a small flicker of flame to his fingers, tosses it around, then snuffs it out “—he hasn’t forsaken me. Or so it seems.” “You didn’t feel…anything, consorting with the undead?” “No smiting, no. Not a whiff of divine disappointment.” She makes a thoughtful noise, and he almost wants to ask what she’s thinking, but he’s starting to learn that with her it’s better to wait.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

A father's anger

Day 1 Prompts: The feast | The chase

For: @feast-of-horns

Rating: M

Pairing: Tulkas/Maedhros

Themes: NSFW / NSFT

Warnings: Kissing | Drinking | Some Sensuality

Wordcount: 1.1 K

Summary: Tulkas and Maedhros discuss Fëanor while they eat and drink during the feast.  

A/n: This takes place after Melkor’s release from Lumbi, where he begins to spread strife among the Noldor and encouraged elves such as Fëanor to reject the Valar and return to Middle-Earth.

Minors DNI | 18+

This is also available on AO3

Nelyafinwë waited until his lord and companion finished pouring a measure of fine wine for him. “I fear my father does not take kindly to my feasting with you, my lord.”

Tulkas regarded the firstborn son of Finwë discreetly, even as he served himself a large measure of mead. Fëanáro—his knuckles white against his goblet—was displeased by the sight of his own firstborn seated among the Valar, beings he was coming to mistrust almost as much as he mistrusted his half-brothers.

“Pray what can he do, Nelyo?” The Vala laughed. He drained his drinking horn in one swallow and poured another measure of mead for himself. “You are your own lord now, and your sire can no longer hinder you from acting according to your own wishes.”

“Such may indeed be the case,” Maedhros returned, wishing he could be as sanguine as his lord when it came to the matter of his father. “But you do not know my father as well as you should. He will have many things to say upon my return; I am certain of it.”

Tulkas took his companion’s hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He could never fully understand the intricate ties within elven families, and the undercurrents that ebbed and flowed around those who claimed others as kin by marriage and blood. He could not offer sage counsel either, for he had neither brother nor sister nor mother nor father, and war was his calling, not soothing a father’s baseless anger.

“Pay no heed to him,” Tulkas said, and he emptied his drinking horn the way he did before.  Then, without warning, he leaned forward and kissed the elf’s neck lightly, his arms holding him in a loose embrace. It was a reflection of his exuberant mood, to be sure, and perhaps, it was also unwise. Fëanáro was already murmuring his misgivings about the Valar; he would not think highly of his son conducting himself in such a brazen manner with one such as him. Still, Tulkas delighted in the way Nelyafinwë’s pulse throbbed like the wings of a hummingbird just beneath his skin, the way he gasped softly when his teeth left their mark on the hollow of his throat, and when his hands slipped around his back and tangled themselves in his hair.

“My father—” The prince began.

"Pay no heed to him," Tulkas repeated and interrupted him, before he sought his lips. His kiss was languid and deep, as if he were savoring all that he had found. Then he drew back and rested his brow against his elven companion’s with a satisfied sigh.

“Your father has taken his leave of us,” Tulkas observed. Fëanáro’s seat lay vacant; the elven lord had departed without saying a farewell to his son. “But if it is his anger that you fear, Nelyo,” he added, his long fingers brushing against the splendid necklace—linked horns of beaten red and yellow gold—Nelyafinwë wore in honor of the feast. Tulkas had given it as a gift. “You can always return to Valimar with me. You need not return to Tirion after this.”

“I thank you, my lord,” Maedhros replied, “but I believe that it is best if I return to Tirion after this.” He smiled when Tulkas pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Father’s anger will only grow if I stay away for too long.”

“You allow your father to wield too much power over you, beloved.” Tulkas kissed him harder this time, sending a shiver down his back. Nelyafinwë groaned softly and returned his kiss with equal passion; it was as if he had grown bolder in his father’s absence.

“I know, my lord,” he replied when he was able to speak. “But it does not change the fact that he is my father, and I do not wish to distress him in any way.”

“Very well,” Tulkas told him, and he called for another flagon of mead. Nelyafinwë took a deep, steadying breath. The air was already thick with the scents of wine and herbs and roasting meat. Golden yellow flames licked at giant deer while attendants turned them slowly on great wooden spits. Others basted them in honey and spices until the meat crackled. Fire dancers performed tremendous feats to the music of drums, twirling and spinning lit torches around their bodies. Minstrels strummed harps and viols while revelers sang every vulgar refrain they could think of. Nelyafinwë flushed.

“It still amazes me to see elf and Ainu conduct themselves this way,” he observed quietly. An attendant came forth with a platter laden with gammon pies. His mouth watered at the scent.

“Tis the feast, Nelyo.” Tulkas took two for himself and tore into one with both hands. “It frees us from all that restrains us, even for a little while.”

Another attendant offered a large bowl full of strawberries. Some were as large as an elfling’s fist. Nelyafinwë took one for himself and bit into it. Its juice dripped down his chin. When he reached for a square of cloth to clean it, Tulkas stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“Allow me,” he entreated. Nelyafinwë shivered when he leaned forward and kissed the juice off his skin.

“Save your vigor for the chase, old friend!” Oromë cried from his seat on the dais. “Or your companion may be left wanting.”

“My vigor will not fail me,” Tulkas answered, his eyes bright with good humor. “And do not fear for my companion, my friend. He will not be left wanting in any way.”

Many of the other Valar struggled to conceal their mirth—even the Star-Kindler herself. Nelyafinwë turned a pale pink from cheek to throat, but he smiled all the same. And he was grateful in no small measure for his father not being present to hear it. Fëanáro was a prideful elf. He would not have taken kindly to such talk.  

A breathless hush fell over the revelers, and all who had gathered turned to look when Vána rose after leaning in to whisper to her husband. Her handmaids made haste to follow her when she left her seat on the dais. The others were quick to finish their food and drink, for the Ever-Young left her place to fetch the Valaróma for her lord husband. The chase was almost at hand.

“It is time, beloved.” Tulkas rose as well. He held out his hand and helped Nelyafinwë to his feet. “And I hope you will not mind if I bring you back to the halls after I find you,” he whispered in the elf’s ear. “I would much rather take you in our chambers as always, away from the prying eyes of others.”

“I would like that as well,” Nelyafinwë returned, gratified. Tulkas, as was his wont, would bring him back to the halls after capturing him during the chase. It spared the elf having to explain himself to his father upon his return to Tirion. “But you must catch me first, my lord.”

tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese

[furious-haste-of-malice]

❝ You try being quiet, but rest assured I'll make you scream. ❞

⊱ Prompt: Clit torture ⊱ Pairing: Nári x Uinen ⊱ Synopsis: [Valinor falls AU - in which Melkor's forces manage to conquer Valinor and enslave its inhabitants] Nári has managed to catch herself a pretty water spirit and intends to savour such a rare treat. ⊱ Featuring: Bondage, fire restraints, petting ⊱ Warnings: Balrogs are their own warning, sexual content, captive x captor, non-con, forced masturbation, orgasm denial, burns; also the prompt is its own warning

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Another one for @tolkienpinupcalendar's Dead Dove December, featuring my Balrog OC and poor Uinen. Enjoy!

"It's not fair that you keep all the pretty ones to yourself." 

Nári lowered her head to look down at Thuringwethil. She was pouting, hunger flashing in her eyes. 

"Do you want to drink or fuck?" she asked bluntly. 

"Both." Thuringwethil licked her lips. "Such treats are hard to come by over in Middle-earth, after all." 

Nári couldn't agree more. Occasionally receiving an Elf as a plaything for her troubles was fun, but it wasn't the same as bedding another Aini – most notably when it came to how beautifully they could scream and how durable they were. Incarnates died too fast and too easily. 

"I have one picked out for tonight," she informed the other Úmaia. "But you can take one of the others." With a wink, she added, "I caught one of Varda's that might suit your taste." 

"Mmh..." Thuringwethil chewed on her bottom lip, smiling as if she was already envisioning warm, sweet blood in her mouth. "That sounds wonderful. I'll take you up on this – thank you kindly, dear." 

"Always, little bat." 

Nári watched her leave, then turned towards her original destination. Indeed, there was a special prize waiting for her in her chambers, and she would be sure to savour the experience. 

Bound to a metal chair with fiery threads resembling her whip was none other than Uinen, her hands tied behind her back and her legs secured on top of the armrests, leaving her exposed. Nári smiled to herself; as difficult as it was to subdue a water spirit when one's form was at risk of being harmed by the accursed element, leaving her like this, so beautifully helpless and ready to be toyed with, had been even more difficult. 

It was rather convenient that Uinen had opted to leave her usual fishtail behind to come on land; it would be a shame if she had no legs to spread. 

Her own tail flicked impatiently when Nári circled her new favourite catch. To see one whose element always sought to snuff out the fire nurturing her and her brothers subjected to the burn of her own was immensely pleasing. Uinen's hair normally dripped with water and her skin used to be sleek, cool and wet, but both had long since dried up, leaving her without its protection. Small whimpers fell from her lips when her fiery restraints mercilessly singed her fána, and the endless, wavy tresses of her hair were losing their lustre. 

"It seems as though your husband hasn't come to save you after all," Nári said, leaning closer from behind the other Maia to purr in her ear. "But don't take it personally – I'm sure he's been captured or slain in the meantime."

The only response Uinen gave was shaking her head vehemently. Nári felt a tiny twinge of irritation; as fun as it was to mock the predictable naivety of her enemies, she had grown tired of the blind faith many of her playthings seemed to have in their spouses and partners. Ossë, admittedly, was an opponent she wouldn't enjoy fighting – but he too would have to face the combined wrath of the Balrogs, and only a Vala could hope to survive that. 

I shall have her instead. I will burn his touch from her skin until nothing is left.

Her patience waning fast, Nári knelt down in front of Uinen and between her legs, a gesture of mocking reverence. 

Water spirit or not, her new toy was beautiful – the blue tint of her skin reminded her of Melkor's fires, her long turquoise hair fell down her slender shoulders and her large, dark blue eyes were adorable, especially when looking down at her with such delicious fear. Whatever clothing Uinen had worn had been burned away a long time ago, and Nári lazily reached out to cup her chest with one hand. It was big enough to nearly cover it, and she gave the soft flesh a few experimental tugs and squeezes. 

Uinen averted her gaze in shame and pressed her lips together to force down any noises of discomfort. Her fána was so wonderfully delicate and pliable, as if it had been made for someone else to toy with, and Nári felt the fire inside her burn hotter with every passing second. This was exactly what she had been desiring for a long time now, a pretty little plaything to call her own... and one that would live long enough to entertain her. 

"You try being quiet, but rest assured I'll make you scream," she laughed and punished Uinen for her silence with a sharp tug on one of her nipples before letting her large hand glide down her torso. Only small hints of muscle, mostly soft flesh to dig her claws into – just the way she liked it. For now, however, another part of the smaller Maia's anatomy demanded her attention. 

Uinen's womanhood was the one part of her fána that retained its wetness, glistening underneath the Balrog's covetous gaze. Normally hidden between her shapely thighs, her current position put it on full display, to be admired... and to be used. 

Nári traced her folds with the tip of her clawed index finger and felt her own arousal flare up when Uinen let out a whimper. 

"You like this, huh?" 

"N-no..." Squeezing her eyes shut, Uinen then muttered one tiny, breathy, "Please..." 

"You're cute when you beg. You should do it more," was all Nári said in response. Her grin put her fangs on display. 

She took in the alluring sight in front of her, briefly contemplating her next step – she could find out how Uinen tasted or how much she could fit inside her or... how many more sweet noises she could make. 

All in due time, Nári reminded herself. For now though, she decided on the latter. 

With surprisingly gentle movements, she pulled up the small hood to reveal the rosy pearl hidden underneath, causing Uinen to shiver from anticipation. Nári drew a few teasing circles with her claw, then pressed the pad of her thumb against it and began rubbing it. The heat and rough texture of her skin brought pain and pleasure alike to her lovely captive, as she intended: It was a form of art, blending these two sensations together and watching her playthings come undone. 

Uinen was soon writhing beautifully, her muscles tense, her limbs fighting against the fiery bonds that held her. From her plump purple lips fell moans, gasps and whines alike, though no more pleas for mercy. She had accepted her fate and was trying to preserve her dignity, something that Nári would delight in taking away from her in time. 

The Balrog was relentless in her pursuit of her unwilling partner's pleasure, increasing the speed and pressure of her movements until Uinen's inability to get away from the sheer onslaught and intensity of the sensations she was subjected to had her sobbing. Her release was approaching fast – the tenseness and twitching of her thighs made it obvious – but Nári was not feeling merciful. She might have considered letting the smaller Maia climax if she had begged for it. 

Keeping a close eye on Uinen, she brought her to the very edge only to withdraw and deny her release by pinching her swollen pearl with two claws. She was rewarded with an ear-splitting scream and uncontrollable sobbing, pain and frustration alike rippling through her captive's bound form. 

Nári had to suppress a groan; the view, the sounds, her own arousal rising within her, it all felt exquisite. 

"You didn't think it would be this easy, did you?" she laughed and leaned forward. Her hot tongue greedily lapped up the wetness threatening to drip out of Uinen and teased her sensitive, abused flesh. Her slightly salty taste was addictive. 

"We'll play this game all night," Nári purred between long, indulgent licks. "And if you beg, I might eventually let you cum."

Thanks for reading! ♡

[cilil]

Let us see if Tumblr will continue to thwart my attempts on interacting with my friends🥺

For the summer prompt I'd want to nominate Ice-cold drinks featuring our favorite "Bare assed and Loving it💖" Valar; Melkor and Tulkas🎉🎉

(@melkors-big-tits)

Summer Stories

AN: Here you go~

Prompt: Ice-cold drinks | Melkor & Tulkas Synopsis: Tulkas is trying to get a special favour from his favourite enemy. Melkor is not having it. Warnings: Tulkas has boundary issues and makes unwanted advances

"So," Tulkas laughs and leans closer, his cheek rubbing against Melkor's. "We both know what people are saying about you –"

"I don't care. What do you want?" Melkor hisses and pushes him away. Consequences be damned, he won't let this oaf of a Vala drool all over him. 

Tulkas has never been good at leaving him alone, but the issue tends to be vastly exacerbated whenever he starts drinking. 

The champion of the Valar huffs. "Well, let's just say I know you're always up to something, but I'm willing to let it slide if you... stop pretending and do me a favour or two as well." 

His hand firmly plants itself on his thigh, and Melkor shoots him a withering glare before seizing his wrist to remove it. Of course he knows what rumours Tulkas is referring to; his proclivity for carnal pleasure with male and female partners alike is well-known at this point. But the Mighty One has standards, and his least favourite enemy neither meets them, nor does he wish to inflict anything that isn't excruciating pain upon him. 

And even though Tulkas can be persistent, Melkor has other plans. 

Smiling, he pushes his own drink closer to his enemy. "Well, I might consider it, but unfortunately I still need to drink up –" 

As expected, Tulkas immediately snatches the glass to empty it for him. Eyes gleaming with triumph, Melkor whistles a quick tune to freeze the liquid, causing his rival's lips and beard to become frozen to the glass and its contents in the process, and smacks the bottom for extra emphasis. Tulkas yowls in pain and attempts to free himself with little to no success. 

"I'll never touch you!" Melkor cries and turns into a cloud of smoke, fleeing as fast as he can. 

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

taglist: @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-big-tits @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @wandererindreams

[cthulhu-cat]

I played a thrilling game of Smash or Pass: Drow Ver.. with @lawful-evil-novelist and here are my personal results:

Let's just forget the racism for now, my fellow ibliths

Jarlaxle - most likely Smash, but I'm paranoid he might leave me in the morning without saying anything, so we'd have to go on a date or two so I can gauge his interest and likelihood of him doing that

Kimmuriel - maybe Smash? I like him but he wouldn't like me, so we should go on a date or two so he can ease up and hopefully like me more. He will 100% hear the circus clown meme music playing on loop playing in my head on our date.

Rai'Guy - Pass. He naturally rubs me the wrong way and he's grumpy and not even in an amusing way to me personally.

Valas - Smash, I say as I immediately slam my hand on the buzzer that signals a Yes in this dating show I made up in my head.

Zaknafein - Smash. I get that he has a drinking problem and anger issues but I'm willing to look past that based on how much of a DILF he is.

Beniago - Smash. Seems one of the most friendly of Bregan D'aerthe and seems like a nice guy overall. He also seems entertaining without running the risk of being obnoxious like Jarlaxle.

Drizzt - respectful Pass. He's just not my type. He's a little too serious for my taste.

Gromph - possibly a Smash but he's on thin fucking ice. Probably one of the most insufferable but he's got that classy man appeal. He needs to take me on at least five dates and then I'll make my decision.

I left out some, ofc to make this fairly short. I invite @rukafais @kimmurielscryingmirror and anyone else they want to invite (if at all, I get some people have different sexualities and some do not wish to disclose publicly)

Please add more characters if you want

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Obedience

@cilil - demon-spawn from Hell - has pitched two of my best boys. Of course, I could not resist! LOL 😁

Please be advised, this is a spicy fic, containing the prompt "Cockwarming" from the summerofcum prompt list.

All credit for the composition and elements goes to @cilil too. We have long conversations on discord that nobody must ever read 🙈

So...here we go...Week 2 ("Summer Festival" is still waiting for a claimer! )

Words: 1538

Characters: Eönwë x Gothmog

Prompt: Campfire - Cockwarming

Warnings: NSFW, smut, rimming, anal penetration

Eönwë looked around, scanning his surroundings frantically, as one awoken from a fever dream.

How long had he been walking aimlessly into the wilderness in his attempt to flee the busily milling crowds that he perpetually needed to inform of some Vala's new decree or prohibition?

Dutiful and sober, he did not object to the crushing workload resting on his broad shoulders but—at times—he yearned to spread his wings and feel nought but his Lord’s merciful wind against his unguarded face.

An involuntary shiver ran down his spine—even after all the time that had passed since the death of the two trees, Eönwë still struggled to remember that the silver moon gave much less warmth than the golden sun.

Sighing, he made to turn back; it was outright undignified and shameful how far he had run without noticing and now, he had been surprised by the faltering heat seeping out of the ground underfoot to dissolve in the misty night air.

Just as he took heart at the thought that he would simply hasten back to his post without wasting a single look or thought on this wild, abandoned land outside of the dwelling places of Valar and Eldar, a flicker of red caught his eye.

"It is forbidden to kindle a fire," he started to remonstrate with the delinquent who had apparently thought to counteract the creeping chill by starting a campfire to warm themselves by.

"In the name of Eru and the big bird, yes, yes," a gravelly, raucous voice drawled. "I want to draw your attention to the fact that I did not indeed set ablaze any of the hallowed creations of the high and mighty Valar you seem to serve so diligently."

Drawing closer, Eönwë stopped dead in his tracks.

What he had mistaken for a merrily burning fire was—he could now discern this with humbling clarity—the naked body of a Balrog.

"Detestable foe!" he thundered, lifting his arm as if to strike before he remembered that he had set out woefully unarmed, not expecting to meet an ancient enemy this far from the hubs of civilisation.

The Balrog turned slowly, his eyes gleaming like gems backlit by the fire of Aulë’s forge, and gave a delighted chuckle.

"If it is not the messenger bird, sweet carrier pigeon of the Valar," he purred, sitting up on his haunches without any noticeable consideration or shame concerning his shocking nudity. "You may call me 'foe' if that is your pleasure, but I'd much rather you use my name."

"Which would be?" Eönwë asked with feigned distaste and ignorance.

Of course, it was rather simple for him to recognise Gothmog—Lord of Balrogs—who had been amongst the last to have been returned to this plane of existence and granted a physical body once more.

"Have you come then to demand further penance?" Gothmog asked, a wry smile stretching his lips into something sharp and vaguely threatening. "Or is it a re-enactment of your greatest triumphs that you seek?"

Glowing eyes observed every twitch rippling across Eönwë's face with undisguised curiosity.

"Oh," Gothmog hummed, "it is a defeat you're looking for. Do you want me to take this weight off your shoulders—throw you down and hold you still? I can do that; I am good at it."

It was a bold claim that made Gothmog's tail lash about in an involuntary admission of nervousness.

To his own astonishment, Eönwë paused and considered that offer. He had not expected to find the idea so alluring, but now that he allowed himself to drink in the bulging muscles and iridescent skin of the creature eyeing him speculatively, he had to admit that his body tensed in joyous anticipation.

The thought of handing over the reins to someone else for a while sounded too delicious to be fully fathomed.

Momentarily, he hesitated but the insidious chill that was swirling up from the now damp ground was so wonderfully chased by a burning hot hand setting on his shoulder that he let out a shuddering sigh.

He was well aware of the peril he was in, but the tension between his worst apprehensions and his most depraved hopes only exacerbated his desire to lean into the yet innocent, casual caress.

"Ready to get your feathers singed, little bird?" Gothmog murmured, leaning towards Eönwë in a cloud of soothing warmth and smoky fragrance.

Elegant and elemental as a volcano bursting with veins of liquid fire, he towered over the herald in a way that made Eönwë feel almost delicate and frail in comparison.

Despite the erroneous accounts coursing through the tales of the Children, Gothmog was merely wreathed in flame rather than having actual, functional wings.

Thus, he plucked playfully at the long, white feathers covering the impressive appendages that adorned Eönwë's strong back.

"Beautiful," he whispered and started circling the radiant, immaculate hero of wars long past like a huge, hungry lizard cornering a guileless dove.

"What heinous crimes will you do unto a servant of Manwë?" Eönwë gasped as the seemingly innocuous touch thrummed along his every nerve to set his core aflame.

"Worry not," Gothmog promised, "your defilement will be wrought of pleasure and obedience."

This was a game they both knew only too well and Eönwë knees buckled automatically—he had kneeled countless times in the name of duty, and he felt no humiliation at performing this old-familiar gesture of reverence.

Already, his acute awareness of the despicable identity of the presence looming over him like a nefarious shadow was fading fast, supplanted by a shameful neediness that knew neither morality nor bounds.

"No whips," Gothmog laughed in a muted voice, "just delicious pain."

With a quick flick of his wrist—an undeniable testament to his skills—he wrapped the long, silken strands of Eönwë's hair around his palm and tugged none too gently.

Eönwë's back arched and his wings trembled, but he did not shift from his position.

Heat was flooding back into his limbs, hitherto stiff with cold, and he gave another throaty moan of relief.

"I've not even started," Gothmog jeered and, with a single swipe of his deadly claws, tore his invaluable garments, fashioned by the deathless hands of the most exalted of the Valar, right off Eönwë's pliable body.

Even though his torturer had sworn that his trusty and universally dreaded whip would not be used, Eönwë felt a lash of searing heat against his buttocks and yelped.

Still, he did not pull away as that torturous thread of magma pushed its way into his body, swirling lazily against the innermost walls of his integrity and lapping teasingly at hidden pressure points that made him see his Lady's most cherished creations dance wildly behind his closed lids.

His bones seemed to melt and, when he felt Gothmog shift behind him, he braced for the unleashing of furious violence that would burn him clean of his doubts and misgivings.

Vowing that he would not give Gothmog the satisfaction of quailing and squirming in terror, Eönwë lifted his chin proudly and fixed his eyes upon the horizon.

It was as he braced as inconspicuously as possible, that he noticed how both the cold and the pervasive boredom that had plagued him had dissolved under the ministrations of that hot tongue, opening and stretching him with the diligent, purposeful determination of one who could but obey his natural inclination to do things properly.

Pressure. Heat. Bliss.

Eönwë let out a garbled cry as a pillar of flame seemed to shoot up through his spine—part of him now almost welcomed and craved the anticipated and dreaded pain that was surely to follow.

As soon as he was fully seated within the hallowed herald though, Gothmog stilled.

Staring at the back of Eönwë's head, in a secluded, deserted clearing, he realised that he was free to do whatever he wanted to Manwë's servant.

Recollections of the exquisite works of blood and bone he had wrought in the past flashed through his mind—Gothmog knew that the storm of carnage and devastation he could unleash upon this docile pet bird would be glorious to behold indeed.

His blood sang with covetousness at the thought of hurting Eönwë in ways that would make him beg for the utter dissolution of his own flesh. Yes, Gothmog thought, the choice was his and the power flowing through his veins was intoxicating and corrupting.

To their shared astonishment, it turned out that what he truly desired was to curl around that strong, winged back and shield it from the cutting, cold air biting into their skin.

"Aren't you a pretty bird?" he cooed, carefully dislodging small fragments of twigs from between the shiny, soft feathers vacillating in front of his blurry eyes.

"What..." Eönwë gasped, pressing back into that arousing heat piercing him to the core. "Why won't you move?"

"Penance," Gothmog replied calmly and went on smoothing and petting the shivering wings with tender care while soaking in Eönwë's intimate, sweet heat with self-indulgent abandon.

"Standing still, you know," he added wisely as he pressed a searing kiss onto the nape of that slender, pale neck beckoning to him, "is not always a bad thing."

@fellowshipofthefics Here's the second one for the second week then :)

Thank you @cilil for progressively poisoning my mind! LOL This was a pleasure to write <3

Lots of love <3

[solvicrafts]

One of my favorite recurring themes with the novels (including Legend of Drizzt and War of the Spider Queen) is that we repeatedly see a lot of characters we grow attached to realize just how fundamentally lost some of their closest friends and family are.

WARNING: Mild spoilers for WotSQ/heavy spoilers for LoD below the cut

We see it WotSQ with Ryld and Valas, both of whom are betrayed by someone dear to them (I’m being purposely vague here because I don’t want to spoil anything since I know a few people are in the process of reading WotSQ now). We see it with Jarlaxle and Arathis Hune, we see it with Artemis and his mother, we see it with Drizzt and Zaknafein (although Zak later comes around), we see it with Kimmuriel and Rai’gy, and there’s likely a ton more examples I’ve forgotten.

And each of these characters has a different reason for either failing the person they love or a different way of processing and coming to terms with that disappointment.

Ryld becomes more closed off around Pharaun, but is still capable of forming some attachments later on. Still, you can tell that his ability to trust people is damaged and he has lingering trauma over it. Ryld is definitely uncomfortable with certain aspects of drow life, but overall accepts everything stoically.

Valas is devastated but pulls through it and remains loyal to Jarlaxle and Bregan D’aerthe. Otherwise, he doesn’t seem to develop any close attachments that we know of, but he definitely does still care to a certain extend about Pharaun and Ryld. And in all fairness, he basically disappears after WotSQ and only reappears for cameos in LoD here and there. Interestingly, he’s even willing to try and build a friendship with Zaknafein. I find this *super interesting* because Zak indirectly told him that he killed his grandfather after coldly shutting him down, and while there was some tension for a moment, Valas was the one to attempt to make peace and didn’t take his offer for drinks off the table.

Jarlaxle is... well, he’s interesting and complicated in this regard. He doesn’t tend to be very open about his true feelings on things, and while he’s had a LOT of disappointments in life, we don’t see him really dwelling on them. He knew, for example, that Arathis was threatened by Zaknafein’s growing closeness to him, and initially found it almost entertaining before it got to the level that it did. But where I think this could potentially get really interesting is how it affects his relationship to Valas; we don’t see him interacting directly with Valas very many times, but when we do, they are cordial, and Valas seems to have a preference for Jarlaxle over Kimmuriel and is anxious for him to return as a leader in Gauntlgrym.

It honestly makes me wonder just how Jarlaxle perceives him, and what must have been going through his mind when Valas showed up on his doorstep after seeking out Bregan D’earthe following the fall of his house. We DO see that Jarlaxle is particularly attached to Braelin, and as I’ve mentioned before, he and Valas have a ton of things in common. And Braelin at the very least is aware of Valas, per his introduction in Maestro. He’s also roughly two centuries younger. Could Jarlaxle have had Valas train him as a scout? I think it’s pretty likely, and I wonder if part of his motivation for doing so might have been hope that:

a) Braelin, being “a commoner but of more noble heart” as Jarlaxle described him, might be a good influence upon Valas in the event he turned out more like his grandfather in temperament and morality than Jarlaxle hoped.

b) Valas would be a good mentor for Braelin and keep him away from the city, thereby limiting his exposure to the uglier aspects of their society.

c) History would not repeat itself like it did with Arathis, and he’d get two good scouts to replace the one he lost -- and it makes sense, especially since Braelin was rescued by Zaknafein at one point and probably reminded Jarlaxle of him. Maybe this is his way of making up for his perceived failure to keep the peace between Arathis and Zak?

Drizzt on the other hand does NOT take disappointment well at all. I think RAS and his books get shit on a bit more than they deserve, but one major criticism I do actually agree somewhat with is that Zaknafein’s return was handled horribly where Drizzt was concerned and it made Drizzt look like a petulant child.

I say ‘somewhat’ because Drizzt is still mentally pretty damn young by elven standards, and on top of that, he grew up absolutely idolizing Zaknafein and it never even occurred to him that Zak was STILL a product of his environment and had survived in it for far, far longer than Drizzt. Well... okay, it did, but I don’t think he really understood the full weight of it. I still think it could have been done better, but it does help to show how much more growing up Drizzt still has to do.

Artemis as we know took that betrayal VERY hard, but at least he got some closure in the end. Even better, he’s really connecting with other people now and forming strong friendship -- even with people he once hated! Some people are pissed about this, but I actually like it quite a bit.

And then there’s Kimmuriel... yeah, he doesn’t really acknowledge it AT ALL. But if you read between the lines, Rai’gy’s fall clearly had a major impact on him. He became a lot more serious about reigning Jarlaxle in, took over some of Rai’gy’s roles with magical item creation/duplication, and became even more closed off. Like Artemis, he’s starting to take small but meaningful steps in forming bonds with other people, and he’s finally beginning to open up about the traumas he’s been through. He was genuinely heartbroken over the (likely) loss of Jarlaxle and his friends, but not so much so that he was willing to immediately go for the nuclear option of taking Azzudonna to the hivemind despite fucking everyone getting on his ass about taking her there or torturing her directly.

What I also find absolutely fascinating about his development is that while losing Rai’gy was undeniably hard on him, I think it was also necessary for his growth. The Kimmuriel we saw in Servant of the Shard would have brutally and messily murdered Calico Grimm instead of settling for humiliating and sparing him. The Kimmuriel we have now actually defended Doum’welle to Gromph by telling him that his anger against her was misplaced and that she was, in fact, an undeserving victim. He also called out Gromph on his racist double-standards during their conversation about Catti-brie.

It’s taken a long time (as it should, given how extreme Kimmuriel’s tendencies toward cruelty and perceptions of other people once were), but Kimmuriel has come a long way, and I really look forward to seeing where he goes from here.

Anyway, these are my thoughts. I had no real reason for writing all this down other than the fact that I just love these characters and wanted to talk about them.

[drama-rebellion]

Two souls

(A short story about my two souls, living together. One wants to be healthy and productive, the other self-destructive and addicted to the darkness. A story about what the sides borderline look like in my world)

The sky is covered in dark grey clouds. The soft rain creates little rivers flowing down the window. Vala blows the cigarette smoke into the cold air, while she looks down on the empty street, wrapped in her soft blanket, a steaming cup in her hands. Although the heat is running on full power, it’s uncomfortably cold in the little attic apartment she lives in together with her best friend Noxa. The other girl had just woken up and yawns extensively. “Good morning”, Vala greets her, but only gets an incomprehensible grumble as an answer. “Coffee?”. She nods. In the small kitchen she pours a second cup, black as the night. Noxa mumbles a “thanks” and takes a small sip. Her hair is ruffled and she needs to shower. Empty bottles and cans pile up next to her bed. She had slept 13 hours straight. After she puts the coffee on her nightstand, she reaches down and checks the cans. Once she finds one that still seems to contain some beer, she gulps it down and grimaces, then lights a cigarette. Vala sighs, but doesn’t say anything. She accepts her friend like she is. She wishes there was something she could do to help her fight her demons with something else then alcohol, but didn’t judge her if that was the only solution for now. Also she is most creative when a little drunk. Vala had visited her all the time when she was in the hospital, forced to stay sober and she had been completely miserable. But one day, she swears to herself, they would find a different way.

“We have no more beer”, Noxa states. Vala, who had sat down on the couch, laughes. “I told you not to drink all of it yesterday, but you didn’t listen.” The other girl moans. “Yeah”. “You should take a shower. You smell.” “I don’t care, I don’t want to.” It is always hard to motivate Noxa to even the tiniest actions of human life. Like cleaning, doing the laundry or simply taking care of herself. For the first time that day, their two cats emerge from their hiding places. With demanding meows, they walk up and down in front of their food bowl. Vala gets up, puts her empty cup in the dishwasher and gets a can of cat food out of the cupboard. They are running low. While she puts the meat junks in the bowl, she addresses her friend over the shoulder: “If you shower, put on clean clothes and collect all the trash around your bed, I am gonna go to the store with you. We need cat food anyway and the fridge is almost empty too.” The outlook of more alcohol gets Noxa on her feet. Vala sees immediately that she’s quite shaky already, but pulls herself together. The fresh clothes she gets out of the closet don’t match at all, but Noxa doesn’t give a shit about her looks these days. While her friend showers, Vala cleans up the kitchen and gets dressed herself. It’s almost noon by now. Once done, the other girl looks much healthier already, although she didn’t bother to do anything than the absolute necessary. While she puts on her clothes, Vala can see the countless markigs covering every inch of her body, also her ribs are clearly showing. She basically gets all her calories from alcohol, but that doesn't nurish her body. The scars are the relicts of the war she fights with herself. Most of them already turned white and officially Noxa has stopped cutting, but every now and then she still slips up and Vala has to drive her to the hospital to get stitches. Fortunately the last incident of that kind had been over a year ago already, no comparison to the times, when she would cut on a daily basis. Every morning Vala would clean up the blood from the floor, change Noxa’s red stained bed sheets and take care of her wounds. Right now she might be in a bad place, but not nearly as lost as she had once been. Now Vala helps her to pick up the empty bottles and cans, because it’s clearly exhausting her. She needs a little break before putting on her shoes and jacket. "Don't forget your meds", Vala reminds her. Noxa rolls her eyes. "I'll take them when we get back." "No, now! Otherwise you forget." The other girl gives her an annoyed look, but does as asked. Once the anti-depressants, mood-stabilizers, potassium, and a couple of other unpronouncable meds are down her throat, they get ready.

They take the trash and their backpacks, Vala closes the door behind them. Two flights of stairs down and they step outside into the rainy autumn day. The smell of rotten leaves and wet pavement fills the air. “Damn it, is that cold”, Noxa complains. Her friend actually enjoys the weather, but doesn’t tell her that. Without talking they get on their way to the store. It’s not far. There are barely people around. Only some dog walkers with their canine companions, some kids hurrying home from school, an elderly couple hand in hand. Typical life in a small town.

In front of the store they return the empty cans and split up as soon as they step through the door. Both of them have their own shopping list. Vala gets herself some low fat curd, natural yoghurt, various fruits and vegetables, protein chips, smoked tofu and a big coke zero, plus cat food. Noxa on the other hand, arrives at the check out with a six pack of beer and three bottles of wine, some sweets, a frozen pizza and zero cal energy drinks. It’s her usual purchase, although she mostly doesn’t even eat, only when Vala insists. The alcohol works better on an empty stomach, Noxa had once explained to her. Outside the wind has gotten stronger, tearing at their jackets. On the stairs to their apartment, Noxa has to stop twice due to her lack of stamina and the heavy groceries. She tumbles over the doorstep and immediately collapses on the couch, breathing heavily. Vala saves herself a comment. They’ve had this conversation so many times before. Instead she gets rid of her shoes and carries the two bags into the kitchen, putting the cooled stuff in the fridge. With some curd and half a mango, she prepares her breakfast, or rather lunch. Meanwhile Noxa has gotten out of her jacket too and pulls two cans out of her backpack. Both sit on the couch, Vala with her fruit salad and Noxa with her beer and energy drink. With a fizz she opens both, drinks half of the beer in one gulp, flushes down the terrible taste with energy. Once Vala had asked her, why she drinks it if it tastes so horrible. “I don’t do it for the taste. Beer and wine are cheap, the good stuff way too expensive for wasting it on casual day drinking”. Makes sense. “Wanna watch something?” Vala asks. “Yeah sure.” “And what?” “Don’t care”. That is probably Noxa’s most used phrase, because she actually doesn’t care about anything much anymore. Vala should be offended, but she isn’t. She knows that her friend isn’t doing it on purpose. She has her wars to fight and her demons eat her alive. Vala only tries to help as much as she can, watch over her, sometimes admitting her to the hospital when she really is close to stumble over the edge, but that hadn’t been the case in quite some time. It just makes her sad to see Noxa fading away everyday a bit more. There had been a time she was an actually happy and positive person, but that’s long ago, nothing more than an echo from the past. So often Vala asks herself, what went wrong, what had happened to her best friend and if there had been anything she could have done to prevent her from getting so bad. The guilt is misplaced, but she can’t help feeling this way. Vala gives her best to get her out of her hole every now and then, but barely succeeds. The pull of the shadows on her is too strong. Now Noxa just stares blankly at the TV where a documentary is flickering over the screen. Absently she pets the cat next to her, sometimes taking some sips from her beer, or smoking a cigarette.

In the early evening, Vala prepares her dinner. While cutting vegetables and the tofu, she can hear her friend sapping through the program in the other room. While the oven is heating up, she takes a short shower herself and switches into her comfy sweatpants. Although she knows that Noxa isn’t gonna eat much, she unwraps the frozen pizza and puts it in the oven along with her veggies. In the living room she is surprised to see that Noxa has her I Pad on her knees and is drawing something. She hasn’t done that in days. Her inspiration is very inconsistent, but the results not less admirable. While waiting for the food to be ready, Vala cleans up the room a little bit. Collects empty wrappers, cigarette stumps, empties the ashtray and sweeps through the room with a broom. It’s already quite dark outside, so she lights the dozen candles scattered everywhere as well as a scent stick, and puts on the fairy lights. It’s a pretty cozy ambience. She gets the metal plates out of the oven, piles veggies on one plate, the pizza on another. After slicing it, she puts it in front of Noxa on the living room table. “Eat”, she tells her, like a mother to her toddler. “Don’t feel like it”, she says and drinks some wine instead. “Come on, please. At least a bit”. Noxa sighs, but gives in. After it cools down a bit, she even eats two slices, while Vala enjoys her own meal. The evening passes by without anything special happening. The two girls are even quieter than usual. Sometimes, when Noxa has drunk enough, she gets quite talkative. Then she rumbles about the most unusual facts and drifts away in nostalgia, memories of happier days. At the moment she is still busy with her I Pad and once she’s done she shows Vala her latest work, who had been waiting excited already. The picture shows a faceless monster of some kind with a crown of thorns on its head. It’s disturbing, but also beautiful. “Very good, I love it”, Vala says. She is very creative herself, but more into words than drawing, although she hasn’t written anything in a while now. Her thoughts are too clouded. This dark void hovers over them for days now. There are these times. Every night, when Vala goes to sleep, she hopes that tomorrow will be better, but it rarely is. Noxa is quite drunk by now, puts her I Pad away, mumbles a “good night” and tumbles into bed. Vala smokes one last cigarette. Silently she watches the night outside the window and without even realizing, she starts crying. Hot and salty the tears roll down her cheeks, while she wonders if life will always be this way. If they will ever be alright.

[lightandfellowship]

Do you have any other ‘random and obscure’ headcanons? I’d love to hear them!

Honestly? Not exactly? My head has been pretty stuck in the meta/analysis side of KHDR so I haven't been thinking about fun headcanons as much. But let me see...

There's like zero canon-canon to this but I like to think that Vidar, Vala, and Heimdall all have a simultaneous crush on Hoder. Just based on dialog/behavior/what could potentially be interesting dynamic-wise. Though it can all be read platonically too, of course.

Based on Vala's line about Hoder's honor, her knowing ballroom dancing, and the fact her screen debut is in Beast's Castle, maybe Vala reads a lot of romantic stories about royalty and princesses and brave knights and kinda wants to be a knight herself? (But maybe not a reckless one, since she disagrees with the idea of going after Maleficent and disrupting the world order...so maybe less of a "knight who vanquishes every single villain and saves every single damsel in distress they come across" and more of a "knight who follows a very strict code of conduct and doesn't question the orders given to them by their superiors.") <- all of this kinda goes hand-in-hand with my "Vala has a crush on Hoder" headcanon. Maybe she views Hoder like a princess...

This one isn't new, I've seen it around a lot, but Vali using sign language to communicate like 90% of the time. I like to think that, in addition to whatever would be considered standard Scala Sign language, the upperclassmen have a unique set of signs that only their group knows the meanings of and were created specifically for/by Vali. Including inside jokes but also quick, useful signs for communicating secretly on missions. Scala Sign Language is a required course in all Scala schools, so both the upperclassmen and the underclassmen know it well.

Relating to my "Vidar was meant to be Odin's heir" headcanon, I imagine he and Odin have a close student and mentor, or vaguely dad and son, relationship. Odin shares information with Vidar that he doesn't share with any of his other students, and Vidar is more emotionally open with Odin since Vidar feels like he can't show too much weakness in front of his friends who rely on him to be their strong leader. Maybe Vidar and Odin sometimes hang out in the Scala tower drinking tea together and discussing various difficult subjects. Even though Odin was saddened by all of the deaths of his students, Vidar's definitely hit the hardest, especially since Odin knew in great detail all of the hopes and dreams Vidar had for the future that have now been forever lost.

I have this silly old post about how the KHDR cast would act during a game of laser tag

[anderstrevelyan]

Hi, I have some early durgetash on this fine Wednesday (from my Valas DeVir prequel fic)—

Tagging @potatowitch @sulky-valkyrie @poetikat @milesmentis @spindleweedss @my-dumb-obsessions @mxanigel @effelants @mxkelsifer and anyone else who sees this and wants to share—I'd love to see what you're working on! (And here's the post to be added/removed from the list for future WIP shares from me.)

And in the other meaning of tags: a bit of suggestively consumed blood, a murder trophy as flirting, and implied possible off-screen cannibalism (...you know, Dark Urge things):

DeVir runs his fingers through the blood absently, like it’s a sprinkle of spilled wine. Raises them to his lips, glancing over to meet his eye just as he sucks it slowly off. He’s trying to unnerve him, surely—they’re always creepy little bastards, these Bhaalists, and Enver hadn’t made any efforts to hide his disgust at Orin or any of the others who’d ferried their letters back and forth. He clears his throat, quietly as he can, and tugs at the lapels of his jacket to pull it closed, lest he betray a hint of the gesture’s true effect. “You know,” Enver says, leaning one hip to the railing, his gaze lingering on the host of nobles below, preening and prattling and devastatingly unaware of what’s to come. “Most of those here would consider that incredibly impolite.” He’s silent for a moment, in a way that has Enver scrambling to find something to say, to redirect them toward the plans they need to discuss. But then there’s that voice again, haunting in its melodic depth. “I get the sense you’re not like most.” Enver lets that linger for a moment—his gaze to his eyes, that strong jaw, graceful neck, lower—almost like he’s flustered. Enver doesn’t get flustered. “I have a gift for you,” DeVir says finally. The box he pulls from a pocket could almost be from any jeweller in the Upper City, a gesture that almost forces Enver into laughter at the incongruity. But after he takes it and pries it open, the world starts to make sense again. “A finger? Very funny.” There’s a whiff of blood, brief and metallic, and though it’s missing any accompanying reek of decay, he snaps it shut quickly before the patriars at the edge of his vision might take notice. Still, the details linger in his mind: dirt under the nail, a worn gold ring, the end ragged and rough, clearly not cut clean through with a blade. It almost looks like— Well, he’s not sure he wants to think about that. DeVir dips his fingers into his drink, still flecked with the last of the blood, and gives it a stir before raising the glass. “I think you’ll find it’s whose finger that matters to you.”

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Tulkas NSFW alphabet

A general warning as this post contains many suggestive and explicit themes.

Minors DN I 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume

A/n: this is my first attempt writing a NSFW alphabet for any character, but I hope you all enjoy reading it.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): Tulkas’s preferred methods of aftercare are warm baths, massages, and cuddles. He will always keep a pitcher of water and a small bowl of treats ready, insisting that his partner have something to eat and drink before they go to sleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: His chest and arms and thighs. Tulkas loves it when his partner runs their hands all over his chest, arms and thighs, telling him how strong he feels, how good it feels to have his muscular thighs push theirs apart, and how his arms feel like vises when he holds them.

His partner: Their ass. Tulkas loves grabbing his partner’s butt when he lifts them up. While making out or during the act, he grabs onto their back and squeezes tight, delighting in the intoxicating whines and moans he hears.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…) : Tulkas loves turning his partner’s body into a canvas. The Vala will gladly finish inside his partner if that is what they wish, but if they invite him to finish on any exposed part such as their belly, breasts, face, etc, it would drive him wild. He will also let out a string of the filthiest dirty talk he can think of while he does so.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): The Vala has a fantasy of fucking his partner right in the middle of the empty arena he uses for his sporting contests, while the stars are out in all their glory.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): He is very experienced, and is willing to listen. Tulkas will always put his skills to good use, and his partner will be left a wet, mewling mess by the time he is finished with them.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying): Tulkas does not discriminate when it comes to positions, provided he is not physically restrained. However, he does have a liking for his partner being on top, a position that allows him to grab onto his partner’s hips so he can bring them down on him hard and bottom out inside of them when he does.  

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): Tulkas loves to crack jokes before, during, and after a lovemaking session, especially if it puts his partner at ease. However, he can be very commanding if his partner acts bratty and pushes his buttons.  

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): Besides the thick golden hair he keeps loose about his shoulders, Tulkas is one of the few among the male Ainur to grow a beard that is as thick and golden as the hair on his head. This he keeps well groomed and neatly trimmed, never letting it grow beyond a finger’s breadth beneath his chin. He does not have any other body hair besides this.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect, etc.): Tulkas is not the most romantic amongst the Ainur. Things like setting romantic scenes and long, candle-lit suppers are not his forte. However, he is open when it comes to displays of affection and will have no problem telling his partner how good they feel and how badly he wants them. He is not one for tender sweet-talk during the act either. Tulkas prefers explicit dirty talk instead.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): The Vala sees no shame in pleasuring himself when he does not have a partner, especially if he’s horny. If his partner just likes to watch him get off, he would happily say yes to that too. Showing them how much they’re missing out on is a big turn-on for him.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): He has a thing for degradation, using slurs like calling his partner a slut. He also loves praise, hearing how good he is as a lover and how good he makes his partner feel.

Tulkas will also use his beard for sensation play, running it along the curve of his partner’s throat, their belly or the insides of their thighs, listening to them while they giggle and whimper.

He also has a kink for threesomes, and will say yes if the mood strikes him. The more the merrier is his unofficial motto.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the deed): Again, this Vala does not discriminate. In bed or on a table, against a wall or down a dark passageway, meadow or tent, it would not matter. He will take his partner in or against any of these locations if they let him.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): Seeing his partner in armor. No seriously. Tulkas has a soft spot for women in armor and/or holding weapons. Something about the sight of a woman (or a man he finds attractive) in plated steel, or wielding a weapon of any kind, gets his blood going.

Another aspect that gets him going is a partner that will put a show for him, as in: batting their eyelashes and gesturing for him to “come hither,” whispering suggestive things into his ear, running their hand all over his arms and chest and purring how wonderful they all feel, toying with his hair.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs): Water sports and scat play are turn-offs for him, so while he will respect his partner’s liking for such acts, he himself will never agree to engage in them in any shape or form.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Tulkas enjoys both, but his preference is to receive. Tulkas loves watching his partner struggle to sink their mouth around his cock while they go down on him. He would brush his hand over their hair and encourage them to take him in even deeper, growing drunk on the little gagging sounds they make.

When he goes down on his partner, he wants them to be expressive, telling him where to touch and kiss them, what he should avoid, and encouraging him with deep moans and right there’s and hard tugs on his hair. He has a skilled tongue, always laving his partner's slit before gently tugging, looking up into his partners eyes and grunting with each flick.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): Tulkas is a rough and fast kind of Vala, someone who has been known to rip the clothes off his partner in his need to feel their skin against his. He is one of the last partners to have when it comes to slow and sensual, but he will slow down the tempo if it is his partner’s first time or if they ask for it.  

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): Tulkas has no aversion to quickies and is ever ready to say yes if it is offered.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) :Tulkas is big on experimenting and taking risks, but only after talking it out with his partner and receiving their consent first. He will, however, draw the line if it is an act that would injure his partner in any way.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): Being a fine athlete, Tulkas can go for as many as three or four times (for quick sessions) with little breaks in-between, or for hours (for a one-time session), if his partner insists on him slowing the pace. Either way, his partner will be exhausted by the time he is finished with them.

T = Toy (Do they own toys?) Do they use them? On a partner or themselves? Restraints, and on his partner, when they act bratty and have to be reminded to behave. If he is in the mood he will use various forms of bondage to restrain his partner’s wrists and legs during the act.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): He loves to tease, tempting his partner with shallow thrusts, making them whine and pout while he chuckles and watches them lose themselves in a lust-filled haze.  

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): Tulkas is loud, moaning and muttering sweet obscenities against his partner’s skin without restraint during the act and not caring if anyone else hears.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): Tulkas will smack his partner’s butt in public when he is feeling particularly playful, and grin like anything while his partner blushes furiously.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): Tulkas is a big boy in every way. Length and girth is in proportion to his height and size, all thick and veiny and pale. He is a shower, and his cock is guaranteed to be outlined against fabric if he wears tight fighting breeches.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): Very high. Tulkas is very much a high libido Ainu, and needs a partner who can keep up with him.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): Tulkas will keep awake while his partner needs aftercare. After that, he will be content to cuddle his partner and sleep after that.

Tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese @edensrose @wandererindreams