whichofsummer

[whichofsummer]

"average elf uses 3 brain cells a year" factoid actually statistical error. average elf uses 0 brain cells per year. Braincells Elrond, who lives in Imladris & uses 10,000 brain cells every day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.

[whichofsummer]

"Forgiven." Without hesitation or a waver in intent. Chosen kindness and hoped proper delivery. Elrond motioned to one of Celebrimbor's bandages, trying to guide his attention there. "You're healing, but as soon as you're ready and well, we can plan on going to Eregion."

Returning his hold to his hands, he let moments of silence settle.

Then, with a squeeze of hands, he tried to get his attention once more. "If guessing the thoughts of a maia wouldn't be helpful, would you tell me of them instead?"

"In your eyes and no one else's…" A brush of his thumbs on Celebrimbor's knuckles. "What are they like?"

"I wish I knew, but who am I to guess at the thoughts of a maia?"

Tyelpë frowned gently, wondering if he ought to laugh or not. Had he intended to make a joke of it? Or was he truly lost for what Annatar may recommend in the moment. As his mind twisted like reeds in the wind, his thoughts as ephemeral as clouds on a blustery day... he lost the thread of what he had meant in the first place.

It was then that he laughed. A small, uncertain noise perhaps more akin to a whimper than any sound of joy or mirth. Something was wrong. Why was he here, with Elrond? Where was Annatar? What had happened?

Panic rose in his chest, and Tyelpë looked to his friend with urgency. "Perhaps I ought to return home. I do not feel well-" When had he last felt well? Why could he recall little but Annatar and the forge? (Because that was where he wanted to be, not this Imladris... and who he wished to be with, not Elrond who would distract him from his purpose-)

"Forgive me, friend, I am not..."

@whichofsummer

[whichofsummer]

A moment of stillness with that last word, where everything within him took pause. New threads of possibilities weaved, to support what could come and strengthen all that came before. Priorities shifted once more. Presentation following such decision.

As that last word took its time and space, swallowed by the world in a slow relish.

"In love?" Mischief sparked a gleam in his gaze, stained his next actions as he hopped to sit on the railing he leaned against. Feet swinging like a youngling then, he chuckled. "That could explain some things."

His ever there smile widened in a way that puffed his cheeks. Undeniable curiosity carrying a lightheartedness of its own kind. As if all the weight of before had faded from within him. As if the truth of the past and the unknown of the future were unimportant.

"With who?"

Threads. Strings. Knots awaiting. Goblet fully forgotten. To loosen. To tighten. Weaving. Weaving.

"What are they like?"

His mind was in turmoil, second and third-guessing every thought.

Are you happy?

Of course he was! How could he not be, with Annatar guiding him and his apprentices to new heights? Ost-in-Edhil had never been more productive, more in sync... more... divided...

No.

Not divided- no, it was healthy to have disagreements, to spend time apart. The smiths who had departed would return when they came to realise the vision.

Are you happy?

Yes. He was. Why would he want naysayers around anyway? They would simply distract him, hinder progress. He was content to work in a smaller group, or alone, or with only Annatar for company.

Are you happy?

"Of course I am... what an odd question, cousin. Why wouldn't I be? My work was a success, our people will not fade... I'm in love..."

So why did he sound hesitant?

@whichofsummer

[whichofsummer]

the PC has survived a week after repair. now working on getting back to the usual routine, and catching up to the deliverables that got affected by the whole thing. i'll try to chip on the stuff slowly.

[whichofsummer]

what are you the deity of ?

wisdom and knowledge

intelligent and trusted, there is rarely a soul who doesn’t hear and value your voice. you act as a guiding light in an array of situations. calm and wise, you offer the deepest and sincerest insights regarding the world’s problems.

Tagged by: @celevrian Tagging: whoever wants to do this

[whichofsummer]

i am still alive. PC just got fucked twice in two weeks, wiping my OS and files both times. So now I'm in my second bout of reinstalling and setting up. And also have an anxiety of "hold on doing anything outside of this focus for a week, just in case our PC fucks up this week. too" So brain is pretty much on that lane.

[whichofsummer]

the situation when you have a potato pc but 3, flipping 3 games that you adore from across the genres board are released/releasing. and said potato pc is down.

[whichofsummer]

Acknowledgement came with a nuzzling of her neck. A mere moment in the torrent that would come after. The blood licked and licked until the wound could give no longer. Even with that limit hit, he sucked greedily, tasting the salt upon her skin, the earth and the breeze.

Her limbs and body freed, he then lifted her with ease. Talons digging into the meat of her thighs, with the other taking hold of her bottom's soft cheek. Wings wrapped around her, brushing whatever debris and wood clung to her back. And in the same breath, caging her to him

His lips moved to the other side of her neck, and he clamped his teeth on the flesh there too. In contrast to breaking skin, he nibbled and chewed at the flesh instead.

Take a part of her with you. Tie her up. Trap her down. Take a part of her within you.

A low, guttural hum clawed its way out of his throat.

Clamp down. Clamp tighter. Take a chunk. Take another. So she would always remember. So you would have her forever.

She'd pushed him too far it would seem, he did not change but stayed as he was, and there she was at his mercy. She shuddered beneath him, biting her lip as she attempted to nuzzle him, every nerve strung to awareness of him. He was so close, yet not close enough, and she trembled as she tried to guess his next move.

His claws kept her still, but made her wiggle in anticipation. Is this how he would take her? Half lover half beast? She couldn't say she minded in the least--

Then he was teeth, and she cried out in pain, fingers clenching and unclenching seeking to grab him. She writhed against him, legs tightening around him, caught between his teeth and his fingers toying with her breast. "Elrond!" She whimpered. "Elrond please--" please . . .what? She tried to finish, but could not find the word. Wood painfully dug into her back, and his teeth pinned her down. "Move me at least. The wood."

[whichofsummer]

Talons trembled in a tenuous attempt for gentleness as it took hold of her arms. A screech trapped within his warped throat and his mouth filled with words he couldn't utter. A roar unending in his mind, unsatisfied.

Win?

He pulled away and trapped her wrists over her head. Sharp tips digging enough to feel like needle pricks. The weight of his hold heavy and shy bruising. The other pressed against her torso, pinning her to the ground.

Win?

His wings twitched. His hold tightened before it maintained.

Win?

He brushed his nose against hers, then her cheek, then her ear, down the side of her neck. How many had disappeared? How many he failed to tie down to this realm with him? How many had slipped through his fingers? Threads snapped too easily, however tight he gripped.

Win?

He wouldn't let her disappear.

Upon the junction of her shoulder and neck, he bit. Teeth clamping with clear intent to further pin. Fingers plucked at her nipple and pulled, as those teeth clamped down even harder, breaking skin. The moment her blood marked his taste buds, he started licking.

The log was split, and there Nimrodel lay in her normal form, nude and beneath him with heaving breaths and wide green eyes. He had terrified her in those moments, and had she not known that beneath the talons lie her lover she might have run again to never return.

But he was there, and it was for him that she reached, fingers burying at the back of his head with a soft song which sought to bring him back to her and from the form he'd taken. "You win." She whispered, pressing kisses to his face and pulling him to her breast. Her legs opened to accommodate his closeness and she held him tight.

"You win, meleth. As terrifying as you are."

[whichofsummer]

Annoyance flickered for a moment before it was swallowed by all-consuming need. Nuances existing, but united by a single sentiment still:

He wouldn't let her disappear. And under every good will, rationale, kindness nurtured and chosen—

How dare she imply she would be allowed? How dare she think he would even give her a chance?

How dare— How dare— How dare—

Elrond whirled midair over the log Nimrodel ducked into, kicked the ground, then shot himself up past the canopies and into the sky. Senses pushed further and further, past mortal, past elven, past whatever limit previously carefully danced on, because—

How dare—

A screech erupted from his throat, nary any elegance or grace due to mismatched mouth and warped throat. Unimportant, for it was all declaration.

Mine.

All warning.

[ Vilya called upon. ]

With a burst of wind, Elrond dived. Talons shattering the log on both sides of Nimrodel with eerie precision. His mastery of such limbs obvious, with how nary a splinter or a shard touched her form. How he hardly cared however thick, big, old or young the log was.

Part screech and part word came as he loomed over her. Whatever of the log still intact, her only shield from him at the moment.

"…Enough."

He didn't stop running toward her, the only sign that he even acknowledged or understood what she did was the widening of his gaze. The man and the lover would've faltered, would've taken the moment to appreciate. Everything else though?

His body lowered to the ground even more with each step. Feathers continued to sprout from his skin, the collar of his tunic filling out until it couldn't contain it. His hands warped into talons and lower, his body curved even more.

His talons hit the ground in a beat, now in all fours, and in the next—thud, thud—

All the feathers around his head and neck disappeared.

Then on his back, ripping through clothing, large wings burst free. There, a suspended moment, those wings gave a great flap as he lunged for her.

[whichofsummer]

Speaking of vibes, the one I always associate with the whole Elwing, Ulmo, Elrond and the Sea/Oceans:

Also, the song? I linked it to them too: Children of the Sea No matter how far, our hearts beat for each other Let's make it known that this is happiness And the most important things need no words Just let these feelings melt into the light

[whichofsummer]

He didn't stop running toward her, the only sign that he even acknowledged or understood what she did was the widening of his gaze. The man and the lover would've faltered, would've taken the moment to appreciate. Everything else though?

His body lowered to the ground even more with each step. Feathers continued to sprout from his skin, the collar of his tunic filling out until it couldn't contain it. His hands warped into talons and lower, his body curved even more.

His talons hit the ground in a beat, now in all fours, and in the next—thud, thud—

All the feathers around his head and neck disappeared.

Then on his back, ripping through clothing, large wings burst free. There, a suspended moment, those wings gave a great flap as he lunged for her.

Laughter echoed in the trees, red hair blowing carelessly in the wind. "Elrond~" she sang, teasing and inviting, smiling widely at the sight of him. There was nothing more attractive than him using his gifts, he felt more like herself then. Then he was moving toward her, and she leapt from the branch to the forest floor.

There she stood, smirk on her lips and challenge in her gaze, daring him to take another step. Fixing him with that unyielding gaze, she reached to her shoulders and pulled her dress off her arms and let it pool at her feet.

There were two reasons. It would make her next plan easier, and would serve to put a look in his eyes she enjoyed immensely. Kicking the pooled dress aside, she stood there on display, seeing if he'd move first. If he did, she would run. Her brow rose.

[whichofsummer]

PUPARIA (2020) — SHINGO TAMAGAWA

[whichofsummer]

Me, and the vibe in my brain, whenever I write Elrond as Unblinking:

Video for eye movements too: Puparia

[whichofsummer]

Thoughts were filtered with ruthless efficiency, the goal over it all repeating unceasingly.

He wouldn't let her disappear. [ Vilya's prowess loomed close and enticing. ]

Advantages. Disadvantages. Resources. Strategies. Considered, laid out, then set aside faster than the crunch of leaves beneath his feet.

He wouldn't let her disappear. [ Vilya teased how many ways it could make this easy. ]

He was almost crouching and in all fours when he slowed down and noticed. Outsmarted for the moment. The goal louder, its demand bringing this past play and onto hunting territory.

He wouldn't let her disappear. [ Vilya's there. But all of Elrond was too, his own cacophony and myriads deeming the trinket unneeded. ]

Elrond straightened and there, for the next moments, just stood still. And to the next moments, Nimrodel would bear witness.

A bird call piercing loud through the space, heard clearly, and the breath of silence after. Then one after the other, bird calls came in reply, from the farthest reaches of the wilderness closer and closer to the center that was he.

Lord of Imladris. Lord of Imladris. He wouldn't let her disappear.

When his head whirled to where Nimrodel hid, feathers had sprouted; framing his unblinking gaze, and crowning him.

His head tilted. Another bird call from his lips.

All the surrounding birds fled, and he was moving.

@whichofsummer redirected from here

There was no transition of playfulness, only thudding beats; awareness, understanding, instinct. Elrond used the tree and launched himself to the direction of Nimrodel's laughter. Everything else, abandoned.

Senses spread, with the maia in him opening the gates of possibility to push even more. Imladris' allegiance, called upon by its lord.

[ Vilya's prowess loomed close and available. ]

The cacophony of the wilderness turned soft as the land's aid, each sound out of place then magnified—her laughter, her steps, swish of clothing—her.

Once his feet landed to the ground, he was off.

Blood pumped in heavy thrums through her veins, every nerve singing in excitement. Her legs moved as swift as a deer, over grass and rock, feeling his pursuit quickly behind her. It was only a matter of time before he caught her-- but she would not make it completely easy.

But this was what she wanted. Yearned for. Her equal.

The wind rose up at her request, stirring leaves enough before him to obscure his vision, carrying her voice to him to distract. Just a moment, enough for her to duck behind a tree and double back giving him a wide berth as the leaves continued to dance forward as if following her. The ground itself was his servant should he want it, and so she scaled into a tree.

And waited to see if he would notice. . .

[whichofsummer]

her fingers thread through his curls, sneaking up upon him from behind as he writes something in his tree. she runs her nose down the side of his neck and purrs into his ear.

""You better sink your teeth before I disappear.""

Then with a light and airy laugh she runs, waiting to see if he'll pursue her.

There was no transition of playfulness, only thudding beats; awareness, understanding, instinct. Elrond used the tree and launched himself to the direction of Nimrodel's laughter. Everything else, abandoned.

Senses spread, with the maia in him opening the gates of possibility to push even more. Imladris' allegiance, called upon by its lord.

[ Vilya's prowess loomed close and available. ]

The cacophony of the wilderness turned soft as the land's aid, each sound out of place then magnified—her laughter, her steps, swish of clothing—her.

Once his feet landed to the ground, he was off.

[whichofsummer]

from: @maedhros-feanoriel + original thread "Me? A little," Maedhros agreed, the scar carved into her cheek by Morgoth's hand looked deeper as she smiled at the boy. "Are you tired, vinimo?"

Ever since Fingon rescued her, she felt constant pain and never felt fully rested, as if something was constantly sapping at her energy. Yet another thing that foul creature took from her.

...perhaps a snack and some fruit juice was needed, something to distract herself from the dark thoughts that often plagued her. Elrond looked as if he needed a snack too.

"Perhaps we should get some snacks and juice, hm?"

"Bit tired...played with Elros." Words faded as he considered what was before him. "It was fun. We found feathers..." His brows furrowed even more before the prospect of snacks was brought up, his brows reflecting that too.

"Sweets?" And the shine was back.