#Amral

[alraunedrow]

Sketches of the Atantaw clan

Just silly sketches of members of Atantaw clan:

1. Shi'rin is dancing special dance - before the Cold the tribe goes hunting for replenishing supplies for "winter" (remember, there are no winter in Pandora - it's a tropical satellite, Atan'taw live in demiseason region - well, demiseason like on Earth)

After the hunt they feast - the best hunters dance with their weapons - The celebration in honor of the Great Hunt

P.S. Atan'taw have shurikens

(Thanks to this world for Hans Giger and his fleshy art style who inspired others)

2. Ri'oto te Atan'tirea Mistx'ite - the mother of Shi'rin and the tsahik of Atan'taw clan

The skull (the "horns" to be specific) on her chest is used for the same reason as the Ronal's shell or Mo'at's spike

3. Pet'ro te Atan'tirea Sewar'itan and his daughter Amral te Atan'tirea Khta'ra'ite - he's wearing traditional Tum'nan clothes (one-handed robe - it was very useful back then when Tum'nan - their ancestors - prefer to hunt in the daylight and ride a "horse".

[fantasyinallforms]

To preface this, I am not trying to start drama or belittle anyone's personal tastes just trying to get others opinions. I personally do not like when people have Bilbo be called little one from a romantic partner and I was wondering if it's just me or maybe if it's authors whose first language is not English. To me it reads as a term of endearment for a child, first and only language is American English. How do you feel about that term? Is English your first language? What's your favorite term of endearment for Bilbo or do you not like any?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

I am always, and forever will be, a firm believer in don't like, don't read, especially given some of the tropes I have written and/or plan to write in the future. Whatever floats your boat as long as it harms no one.

In my personal opinion, no, I don't like that term for Bilbo even a little bit. I don't like any term that infantilizes non-child characters, and anything that even remotely does that squicks me out. Now, if that amounts to a transition error, I get it that happens, but I still don't like it.

My favorite terms of endearment are Khuzdul ones like Amral, Ghivashel, or Kurdel. Other ones are My Love, Dear Heart, and My Gem.

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @miaulady​​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Rating TBC

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Prophecy Bound

—

Dis was crying. And Thorin had no way to console her.

“It can’t be,” she sobbed. “Please, don’t- make it not so.”

It was supposed to be a joyous day for the Mountain, for Dis and her husband. The birth of their child. And yet everyone in the room was devastated.

A steady breath, a steady heartbeat and eyes staring at the world.

Dis’s son was alive and healthy. It should be a reason to celebrate. But they only felt dread.

“That is my wife in there!” A voice outside the room boomed and then the door swung open, Hrili falling in and slamming it shut behind him. “Stuffy nobles,” he grumbled and then flew to Dis’s side. “Amral! I am here, I am here.”

Thorin watched as Dis clung to Hrili’s shoulders, sobbing and begging for it all to be different.

Hrili held her, sadness falling on his face. He looked at Thorin, Dis still in his arms, “The little one, it didn’t make it then?”

“Oh, he is alive and healthy,” Oin stepped forward and presented the bundle that was the cause of this.Hrili’s mouth opened. And unlike each one of them before he did not break into hysterics or devastation. Wonder and Love shined out of his eyes. Quickly to be replaced with absolute confusion.

“What is everyone crying about then?!” He carefully peeled Dis out of his arms, mumbling to her that he has to greet his son but he will be right back with her.

Dis had stopped crying at this point. Which made it worse in Thorin’s mind. So much worse. He knew how to handle his little sister when she was crying and yelling. He had no idea what to do when she got this quiet.

“Welcome to this world,” Hrili took the baby out of Oin’s hands, smiling at the child and his fingers shaking when he touched the stubby nose. The child blinked back at him, a small hand trying to grasp his fingers and Hrili’s smile widened. “What wonder you are,” he whispered to the child as if it was a secret.

When he turned around to Dis, holding their child, their was a deep frown on his face.

“Why are you sad? Tell me. What is wrong?”

Dis shook her head, turned to the side and away from her husband and child.

Hrili’s head snapped around to Thorin, accusation written on it.

Thorin sighed, “You don’t know?”

“Obviously I don’t,” Hrili sneered. “My son is born. My wife is healthy- She is healthy right?” Oin nodded. “She is healthy. He is healthy. I see no reason that the world is ending, the exact opposite actually. And yet everyone here is looking like they just heard that mountain broke and is lost forever.”

“Because it is,” Thorin whispered. “I am sorry, Hrili. But-” he couldn’t even look at the little bundle, least of all say that this was his sister’s son. “He is, well. Not good news.”

“He is my son,” Hrili stated firmly. “What else could he be but good news. Dis!” he turned to his wife. “Dis, Amral, why can’t you look at your- at our son?”

She shook her head, pulled at a pillow and started to cry again.

“Please, understand,” Thorin started.

“How?” Hrili raised his voice, “How am I to understand?”

A small whimper came from Hrili’s arms.

Dis stopped crying, her head came up and turned around, looking at the small and now crying child.

“Oh,” Hrili looked at the small face and Thorin wanted to turn back time. “Oh, shhhh, little wonder. I am sorry, don’t cry. Your uncle just upset me, shhhh.” He rocked the child carefully. “It happens more often than not,” he went on. “He is a very upsetting man.”“Hrili,” Thorin sighed.

“You know, if you cry everytime I get upset with him, you will run out of tears far too quickly,” Hrili ignored all of them.

Oin, who was busying himself with clean up. Dis, staring at him like he was a creature she had never seen before. Thorin, who was now reaching the point where he was about to boil over.

“Hrili!” he stated louder.

“What?” Hrili didn’t look up and continued to rock the child, that was still upset but at least not crying anymore.

“You are holding the child of demise.”

Hrili looked up at Thorin, a very unimpressed glare directed at him.

“What did you just call my son?”

“He is the child of demise. I know you are aware of the prophecy.”

“Of an old hag that your grandfather believes spits Mahal’s wisdom in his teapot. I am aware of his existence.”

“Master Agar,” Oin grumbled. “Is a reader of the signs. Oracle work is not easy.”“It is alright,” Hrili’s shoulders went down a bit. He always had a soft spot for Oin. Being saved by him after several wars did that to you. “But not that Prophecy,” he might as well have cursed with how he spit the word. “Oin, you have the talent as well, don’t you?”

Oin mumbled something, shifting uncomfortably around.

“Ready my sons,” Hrili held the baby to Oin. “Look at him, See how bright his eyes are.”

Oin sighed and stepped closer, looking at the child intently.

For seconds there seemed to be a staring match between the healer and the child. Neither blinking. Until the child blinked and looked back up at Hrili.

“And?” Hrili asked.

“I don’t know,” Oin waved him off.

“Oin,” Hrili laughed. “You saw something. Tell us.”“Yes,” Dis whispered. “Tell us, what did you see in his eyes?”

“Love,” Oin said. “Love so strong it will be destructive.”

Hrili smiled, “Well, not too bad then.”

“Not to bad,” Thorin echoed. “He said destructive.”

“You are destructive,” Hrili shot back. “You killed thousands of orcs who dared come close to our home. Is that not destruction out of love? How dare you.”

“Hrili,” Dis whispered. He looked at her, but his face only changed minimal. “You have to understand. The prophecy, we never thought it would come about in this way.”

“So afraid,” Hrili mumbled. “Since when are you too afraid to love, Dis? He is your son. Our son. The one you sung to about the world while he was growing in your belly. How could you have turned your back on him?”

“I-” she hesitated, her voice unusually quiet. “It wasn’t easy.”

“And yet you did it,” Hrili frowned at her. “Must be a strong conviction you have that carried you through that decision.”

“Hrili,” tears started to form in her eyes again. “Please, don’t shun me.”

“You stood against your father for our love. But not against a superstition for our son? You shun him, Dis.”

Thorin sighed and sat down, burying his face in his hands. It wasn’t like they could do something to help the child. When Grandfather found out about it, and he surely would, there was no saving the child.

“I don’t even know you,” he heard Hrili whisper. “What happened to my heart? What happened to my friend?” Hrili had turned to him.

When door closed Thorin looked up. Hrili was gone. And so was the child.

Dis was staring at the wall, Oin at his feet.

It was the last time any of them saw Hrili and his son.

———

“Kili!” Thorin shouted. “Kili, come down from there! What if you fall?”

“I won’t fall!”

Thorin watched the little dwarf climb yet another statue.

“Kili, I mean it. Come down there this instance.”

“Fine,” Kili groaned and dropped down from the statue, giving Thorin almost a heartattack. Only to grin sheepishly up at him.

“Rascal.”

“Boring old man.”“You are the heir of Erebor, Kili, act like it.”

Kili looked down at the ground and Thorin felt shame rise up in himself. Not only was he lying to Kili but also taking away the joy of a child.

“I am sorry, uncle.”

“I am too,” Thorin kneeled down and put his hand on the little shoulder. “Let’s go and buy some of those delicious cookies you like, mh?”

“Yes!”

Years had passed since the night his sister had given birth a second time. Kili’s father was not in the picture, he was only Dis’s husband on paper and never would be more than that.

He wished the damn prophecy would have never been uttered.

It still echoed through his mind, just like the empty place that Hrili had left behind like a stain.

‘When the sister is the mother to the gold haired child,

The One of Gold brings the coldest of dark.

The Mountain weeps, the Mountain trembles.’

He had gone over it a thousands times. Trying to see another way he could have read it. But it stayed the same. The golden one, the gold haired child… Hrili’s and Dis’s son.

And now, there was Kili. Dis’s second son. Her only reason for a smile. If anything happened to Kili, she would not continue on to live. And Thorin could understand. Her heart was broken and Kili had all of what was left of it.

“Come, pick the shapes you want,” Thorin gestured at the display of cookies. He saw a star, a snowflake and a diamond shaped cookie.

Kili pondered for several seconds, looking at each shape carefully.

“Do you think Amad wants one too?”

“I am sure she would love it if you brought her one.”

“Then I have to pick the best,” Kili looked up at him. “Maybe that will cheer her up. She is so sad lately. Why is she so sad, Uncle?”

Durin damn it, but the boy was perceptive.

“She is sad because the days aren’t that long anymore. Like you are. Just a bit more,” he lied again. Lying had become an awful habit by now.

———–

Fili tried to hide under the knitted blanket from the cold.

“Uncle Bilbo?”“Yes?”“When is Adad coming home?”

“I am sure he is already on his way back from work,” Bilbo placed some cookies on the table. “Now, how about you get out of that little blanket and help me organise this mess.”“But you made it,” Fili scrunched his nose up. “I don’t get help when cleaning my room.”

“Yes, you do,” he was thrown a glare. “I helped you last time.”“Because I couldn’t lift it!”

“I helped.”

“Alright. But I get five cookies,” Fili placed his cold feet reluctantly on the carpet.

“A fair price, I think,” Bilbo agreed. “Now let’s get started.”

Books, ink pens and paper.

Their home was full of it and Fili loved it. Except when he had to clean it all up.

Uncle Bilbo was a bit odd with where things had to go and be, unless he was moving them. But his father always said that they had to help and that it was very kind that they were allowed to live with Bilbo.

He never explained to Fili why they lived with Bilbo Baggins, who wasn’t related to them in any way. But he liked his uncle, even when there was no blood connection. What did it matter, if he got the cookies and hot milk from him? That was what uncles provided as far as Fili knew.

He looked at the paper he held in his hands.

It was a map. A very pretty one.

“Uncle, where is this?” He held it up.

Bilbo looked at it. “Odd, just one mountain? Normally they form chains or clusters. Like the Misty Mountains, remember? One is very rare,” He took the map from Fili’s hand and inspected it. “I don’t think I know this place. Must be a map of your fathers.” The map was placed on the table for later.

They continued the clean up until the door of the Smial opened and shut, announcing the return of the last member of the household.

“Adad!” Fili ran out of the living room and jumped into the strong arms of his father.

“Hello, my little wonder,” his father lifted him easily up. “Where you good while i was gone?”

Fili nodded eagerly, “I helped Uncle to clean up. He made a mess.”“I did not,” Bilbo called out. “That is slander, that is!”“And we made cookies.”

“Ah, cookies,” his father sighed and kissed his forehead. “I hope you haven’t eaten all of them.”“No, but I do get five cookies as payment.”When his father entered the living room he whistled, “Must have been a mess, Bilbo.”“Not a mess,” he was corrected. “Just a bit unorganised.”

“Right. My apologies.”“Also,” Bilbo went to the table and picked up the map Fili had found. “I think this is yours.”

Hrili took it and looked at it, “Yes, that would be mine,” he mumbled.

Fili placed his head on the wrinkle forming between the eyebrows, “Why are you frowning?”

“Ah, my little treasure, just memories.”

“You were there?” Fili asked excited.

His father nodded and sat down heavily on the couch, stretching his legs out, “I lived there. And you were born in this mountain.”

“Was it sad?” Filii wondered.“What? Why would you ask that, lad?”

“Well, Uncle Bilbo told me that Mountains normally are together. Huddling and cuddling, like we do when we are outside and it is cold and windy.”

A smile formed on his fathers face and he looked at Bilbo, “A lovely picture. And yes, they do.”

“But this one is all alone,” Fili pointed at the single peak. “I am sad when I am lonely. So is the Mountain sad too?”

His father blinked at him with surprise, “I never thought of that.”

Fili waited for his father. He knew there would be a reply if he was just patient enough. Sometimes his father needed time to get his thoughts sorted.

“Yes, it is sad,” his father settled on. “When I left with you it was already a very lonely place.”

“Right,” Fili nodded. “Can we go there? Make it not lonely?”

“No, Fili,” his father went through his hair. “They don’t want us there. They want to stay sad.”

“No one wants to stay sad,” Fili argued.

“Not true,” Bilbo handed a cookie to Fili. “Remember Lobelia.”

“She is not sad,” Fili said. “She is ghastly.”

“Who taught you that word?”

Fili pointed at Bilbo, “He said that she ghastly.”

“Bilbo! She is your cousin.”“What?” Bilbo squealed. “She is! And I have every right to call her that. You said yourself she is a silver spooned nuisance.”

———

Hrili looked at Fili, sleeping on the couch.

“Long day for him, wasn’t it?”

“I made sure of it,” Bilbo handed him a cup of tea. “Baking and cleaning up. Tomorrow we will decorate everything.” He looked at the map. “So that was your home.”

“Yes. Born there, raised there, fell in love, got my heart broken and left with Fili.”

“You never did explain the circumstances of it all. And Fili’s birthday is right around the corner.”“What are you getting at?” Hrili had taken the map along as a way to navigate away from the mountain, to find a good spot for him and Fili to live far far away from those dark halls. When he had reached the Shire it had been perfect. And the Hobbits were kind people. If you did not count the sharp tongued Lobelia and even she never had lashed out at them differently than to the others. He had first wanted to burn the map, destroy any connection that would bring up that place. But he couldn’t, as Bilbo said, it had been his home. And then he had forgotten the map. Until now.

“He will want to see it. One day.”

“One day,” Hrili agreed. “But that should be far in the future, when he is older. Less vulnerable to the cruelty there.”

“Not a nice place, is it?”

“It was. Once. But it changed. And I only noticed when the damage had already been done.”

“Will you ever tell me the story?”

“One day,” Hrili echoed. “You will hear it together with Fili.”

———

Kili groaned and moved his shoulders.

Being a prince was awful work.

It did something to your back. He called it chronic tenseness in his shoulders.

Since then he understood why Uncle Thorin was the way he was.

But today he was sneaking out. He would lose his mind if he had to listen to Balin drawl on over proper etiquette and what it meant if a person bowed a few centimeters lower or what else he thought was important to do around the holidays. Which didn’t even come close to what Kili thought of as important.

“Listen, it is going swimmingly, alright?” he heard a voice say and he quickly scooted into a dark corner.

“It is getting worse, I tell you!”“Nonesense. The king is putty in my hands. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut about that blasted prophecy.”

“But- But it isn’t a sin to Mahal to keep it from them? And the Princess is getting suspicious.”

“We aren’t keeping it from them, boy. Just not giving the full one. Do you want Prince Thorin to get mad at us? Now? When it is clear that the king won’t make it for far longer?”

Kili’s mind was racing.

Prophecy? The King? His uncle? His mother?!

“And anyway,” the person kept going. “It isn’t like the princess can focus for very long on the topic before she crumbles and dissolves into tears.” There was a snigger in that voice. “The royal family is ours to steer now. Don’t lose your nerves and we won’t lose our power.”

“If you say so, Master Agar.”

The steps went past Kili and vanished.

What the- What had that been about?

His excursion had to wait. He had to talk with his mother!

——

“Amad!”

“Mahal, Kili,” his mother grabbed at her heart. “Knock, would you?”

“I–” Kili started and stopped. How was he to explain what he had just overheard? “Is there a prophecy I don’t know about?”

Her face turned pale and she sank down on a chair, “Who told you?”“So there is!”“Kili, please, who told you?”

“No one. Not directly, at least,” He kneeled down in front of her. “I overheard Master Agar and someone else. They were talking of a prophecy and … it sounded not good.”

She sighed and reached out for his hair.

“If it just had never been spoken,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you, Kili. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would break me fully,” she looked at the wall. “All I can tell you is that it is the reason why I get sad in winter and why you never met my love.”

“He left because of a prophecy?” Kili snorted.

“No,” she looked at him sadly. “He left because your uncle and I could not get over the prophecy.”

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all. Especially considering that they didn’t knew the full version of the prophecy.

——–

Fili picked up another branch from the ground and continued the sung, stumbling only over a few words he wasn’t sure of.

Finally, when he had reached an age his father found appropriate to travel long distances, they had left the Shire. Not far. And not to the lonely mountain, not even close.

But Fili could see the Misty Mountains from Rivendell and Bilbo was as happy as he could be here.

“That is a nice song.”

Fili dropped all his collected branches and turned around.

Another dwarf stood there, between the trees and smiled at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to drop those,” he bowed down and started to pick up the branches.Fili bend down to, grabbing the few and throwing the stranger glances when he could.

He had never met another dwarf that wasn’t his father.

Who was this? There was no way he was older than Fili. Younger, probably, maybe.

“I am Kili,” the stranger smiled at him. “At your service.”“Fili,” he replied and wondered about their matching names. “At yours and your families.”

“I didn’t know other dwarfs were staying at Rivendell.”

“Neither did I.”

They started to walk back to the houses.

“Well, I am glad to have someone in my age,” Kili said. “Especially someone with such a nice singing voice!”

He laughed and Fili found it the most beautiful sound on earth. If the elves laughed like small bells, Kili laughed like a waterfall. Loud, deep and like no power could stop him from continuing.

“Where are you from?” Fili asked.“Erebor. It is far way over the Misty Mountains.”

“I know.” Fili thought of the map from years ago. The lonely Mountain, close to a lake and a huge wood. “Why did you take the journey to here, then?”

“Ah, I need advice. And with Lord Elrond being so wise, I figured he could help with my issue of a prophecy.”“A prophecy?”

“Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

“My father says prophecies are superstitions that don’t have much ground to stand on.”

“I think I like your father.”

———

“Well, this is all Erestor could find, Master Kili.” Elrond handed Kili a scroll.

He took the scroll, opened it without any hesitation and read the prophecy.

Well, it was more than what he had before, which was nothing.

He had gotten what he had come for. And yet, was unwilling to leave Rivendell to return home.

Fili had told him that he would stay for whole summer here with his uncle and father. Neither of which Kili had met yet. And Fili was fun to be around with. He had no idea that Kili was a prince, and Kili wanted to take full advantage of that as long as he could.

——–

Hrili stared at the young dwarf.

It was like looking at a memory of the past. A young version of Thorin, just with a more ready smile and laugh.

“Who are you?” He had to know.

“Kili,” the boy bowed to him. “At your service. You must be Fili’s father.”

“Yes,” he still stared the boy. “Are you from Erebor?” Maybe he was wrong. He had to be wrong.

“Yes.”

Shit.

“Who is your mother?”

“What?”

“Answer the question.”

The name… was it a coincidence? He doubted it with how much he looked like them.

“Dis,” came the quiet reply. “Please, don’t tell Fili,” he hurried along. “For once someone isn’t tiptoeing around me because of my birth. And what is the harm?”

What is the harm indeed.

“She remarried,” Hrili sat down on the floor.

“Not really,” Kili looked at him with concern and sat down as well. “I never met my father. She says the one she would call my father left before I was even thought of. But she never explained that.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Kili was still looking at him with deep concern. The frown was definitely that of a Durin. “I overheard something of a prophecy and no one would tell me anything, except that it is awful. So I came here to find a copy of it. And i did.”“Really?”“Yeah, do you want to hear it? The full version?”“Sure, why not.” Those blasted lines were etched into his heart so deep anyway already.

But what he heard was a lot more than the lines he knew.

“When the day of wonder becomes a day of despair,

When the heart is broken and the father banished,

When the sister is the mother to the gold haired child,

The one of gold brings the coldest of dark.

When laughter finds his song,

Broken bonds and darkest lies are brought to light. 

The Mountain weeps, the Mountain trembles,

the lost will bring light to end it all.”

Hrili took the time to take it all in.

He knew only part of the lines. Other were new.

“Well, that is like being hit over the head.”

“Do you know it?” Kili asked and stared at him. “You are very pale. Should I get Lord Elrond?”

“Oh, no. Just. Some things are starting to make a lot more sense to me. That is all,” Hrili stood up again, the world swimming a bit for a few seconds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now, let’s go find Fili and Bilbo. Because it is time for an explanation.”

——–

Kili was holding Fili’s hand while he was being hugged by their mother.

Fili was throwing him a face that screamed ‘Help!’ but Kili only grinned.

The journey to Erebor had taken a long time and Bilbo had complained the whole way there but was unwilling to not come along as well.

The Hobbit was an absolute delight, in his mind. Especially with how he was waving an accusing finger under Thorin’s nose for several minutes and Thorin was watching it like it was about to explode in his face.

Hrili was watching the scene and then took pity on his son, removing Dis from him. Which only led to her hugging him and saying sorry over and over again. Over her head Hrili looked at Dwalin and asked him to please go and arrest Master Agar for lying and for treason of the royal family. The proof would be shown soon, when he had his hands and mind free to care about it.

Kili pulled at Fili’s hand and smiled.

“Come, I want to show you my favourite spot.”

Fili followed, looking back on occasion to check if anyone was noticing them leaving.

Kili knew that it would be a problem with them being half-brothers but he could not help his heart, calling out to Fili. In the months of travelling they had gotten closer and closer. And it definitely wasn’t brotherly what he was feeling. And the way Fili was looking at him, he knew as well.

But they had all the time in the world now.

[444names]

Names generated from Quenya names and Quenya names written backwards, plus Irish forenames

Abendorp Abhán Abmairotárd Abmendúnuon Adablis Adnamre Adnussiled Afinn Agnacron Aiginyart Aitiadlaräe Aitnoider Alagolyaly Allav Amari Amorom Amralic Amriondë Amíric Anindloit Anlauqal Anluct Annap Annilallurw Annór Antairiel Anyar Aratnil Armac Arnam Artoople Artún Arudno Aráthri Atanwë Ataynir Athghach Atimól Atsor Attatal Auqam Avalang Aylerif Aytar...

Barmorildón Beachán Begdenil Beleinë Belic Bendol Birmar Blámë Bodastain Brictows Béannéy Béaoir Calaolop Calava Calindë Callohc Camastira Camianivina Canala Caretsin Chorim Cilasus Cildil Coifiono Coláma Coren Corut Crincán Damanatsus Daream Deano Deavyh Deept Derght Deroc Dessal Dlein Dnatheatan Dnoiw Docileán Dredlo Drinrut Duruts Eagni Eatretlen Ecalameld Ecoiruows Eiliard Eiratarusta Eldautuoh Eldónë Elenol Eleyb Elmac Elocabmain Elwodh Emlugnar Eranaëf Erinauc Erlegelufer Eruoy Eróiróna Estin Evanalindo Eälómë Eälórel Eärnav Eärniv Eärrevic Faitro Falannatnul Falirodno Farthfhla Feibards Feiril Felped Fiamow Finayrissë Fingsli Fingwa Finihchinn Finya Fireanih Flaimachal Flandonemól Folma Forins Fornë Frame Frinyë Fëang Fíongast Gendë Gnand Gnieht Gnielo Gniumnarb Gnuadh Gobley Graytir Greav Hainnán Haltsi Hilín Hingin Hröani Hsafts Htang Htraclinírë Htronnait Idarayni Idhröa Idnifted Ilantirús Illodnack Ilvel Imarda Inatant Inquen Inquibhem Inulessar Irran Iryadnatar Irávandrow Islicalo Jeronde Khalaundur Knalnion Knorambë Lafiak Lamlac Lasac Lavalc Lehtneuq Leniondo Lerut Letil Liack Licklundil Lidna Lidnahs Lidno Lidnuaira Lilauren Limhísë Limór Linivnelen Lionám Lionón Lirit Lisín Liter Litsam Livin Llandubhán Lliefinë Llotreh Loarólick Lochlanail Lodlis Lognis Lohtnern Lufrisso Látsi Lómil Madnoi Madrap Magánar Maitnanólë Majohtel Maltál Manam Mandow Margeri Marniefion Maynacramak Mbastoldaeb Mento Methe Migín Milbar Minwol Mirbhlatsin Mirican Muinór Muirep Nachord Narnë Navagnid Naëvírë Negeb Nemeródnap Nemranwë Nemratiahán Nermë Nerudnewd Neulemion Nevae Niahtaw Ninnalómë Niryards Nisnraver Nithyar Nivic Nocamba Noiluma Noinaira Noiran Noiry Nolindë Nomeful Nosir Nácureldë Néimadha Númirwë Obhaniantë Odahk Odnew Oiplein Oliallion Omámacholám Ondeemindë Oreftark Orghs Orlal Orothnadh Oscam Ostoron Othín Ottolán Otárë Partsar Pilin Praghta Priednist Profyella Puramo Pádron Quendih Raciaght Rambeala Ramingae Ramrap Ramylkcon Rannáv Rannín Ratari Rathe Rathgirial Ratië Ratsed Rearair Reassendav Relat Relch Releánair Renat Rendecith Rendë Rentól Reren Rerutalë Restem Rewinail Reytserom Riatper Ricary Rokure Rualma Ruata Rudner Ruivirace Ruthnestoc Rátaírë Réaoi Salótë Samba Sandië Sarma Sarnor Sawloh Sdned Sdneniquet Sdnoidle Sdrathemórë Sdrindo Sealafinam Sellidniv Sgimos Sgnips Sidlidrampa Sifalapa Sighs Sillan Sinwë Sirian Slings Snegilín Sondilín Sorontól Soutarer Spalayh Sreldalav Srondiley Sseruleivás Ssusaht Stanólië Strom Stsew Swormaol Taitalanm Talquen Tandussor Tanirgire Tavae Tedna Terohtirp Teron Testaitna Teugnik Thghtayneim Thnait Tnungollac Touniba Tramlinna Trellog Tsaelgamar Tulion Tummeach Turealviéno Turesaptang Tyeluat Ualendië Uiratritë Ulkcandie Undil Unúmerta Vaeldonds Vaerut Vaglo Valachamo Valloh Vatarya Vatneards Vawgnuseár Vieniter Vindo Vinques Váynahy Wester Wiahs Wodna Yattaul Ytian Ytirmë Áriondo Éiléideaca Ëdlet Ëdnad Ëdnanah Ëdnel Ëdnifaoda Ëdnolo Ëdnorá Ëilande Ëildar Ëilileh Ëilíonácnul Ëinúlidna Ëirind Ëitso Ëlach Ëlatelcal Ëmleilk Ëmronórabm Ëmrornoindo Ëmúnaf Ënódlen Ërudnulets Ërunáhalië Ërólisrimen Ëssecnaxa Ësser Ëssourcar Ëssout Ëthanorow Ëtiar Ëtnairandë Ëwlav Ëwlië Ëwnaval Ëwniar Ëwnirs Ëwniródle Ëwniseál Ídetornallë Óseleivilín Úroniviadna Úvand Ānrial

[trinugroho]

https://syehhakediri.blogspot.com/2024/08/kisah-prabu-batara-dewa-amral-pandu.html

[siyurikspakvariisis]

EA-NASIR???

Complaint Tablet to Ganneth "Tell Ganneth: Ol-Amral sends the following message: When you came to the City, you said to me: "I will procure fine quality, pure Ahamkara bone for your armory." You then left, but you did not do what you promised. You put brittle bone chips before my Ghost and said: "If you want to take them, take them; if you do not want to take them, go away!" What do you take me for that you treat me with such contempt…?! …you who claim to be the mightiest of wish-dragon hunters? You have withheld my Glimmer from me in enemy territory; it is now up to you to restore it to me in full. Take notice that I will not accept any bone, fragment or otherwise, from you that is not of the promised quality or higher. Should you bring me this worthless dust again, I shall exercise against you my right of rejection because you have treated me with contempt."

[aticky]

Briani Amral. Selalu jadi igauan

[pusakadunia]

Bros Baju Raja Solo

Bros Baju Raja Solo Bros Baju Raja Solo adalah pin bros dengan desain yang mewah dan elegan, pin tersebut jaman dahulu dipakai oleh raja keraton solo ketika ada pertemuan penting dan acara-acara kerajaan tertentu, dengan pin bros ini siapapun yang memakainya akan terlihat gagah dan berwibawa, pin bros ini juga dapat dipakai pada saat acara resmi / formal maupun acara non formal. Desain yang elegan dan dihias mata zircon semakin menambah mewah serta elegan pin bros tersebut. Nama Produk : Bros Baju Raja Solo Model : Pin Bros Kerajaan Estimasi Bahan : Tembaga Ukuran : 57x57x2 Milimeter Stok Produk Bros Baju Raja Solo Sangat Terbatas dan Cepat Terjual. Harga Bros Baju Raja Solo sangat terjangkau bukan karena murahan, melainkan kami jual eceran dengan harga grosir yang terjangkau, silahkan membandingkan dengan penjual lain, Insyaallah dari segi kualitas, pelayanan, harga mahar kami yang terbaik. Produk Bros Baju Raja Solo berkualitas, indah, menawan, bagus dipakai, dan sangat cocok untuk menambah koleksi atau bisa juga dijual lagi karena harganya yang sangat terjangkau. Bagi Penjual Yang Mau Kulakan Bros Baju Raja Solo dengan pengambilan jumlah yang banyak atau partai besar juga bisa kami layani. Jika anda berminat dengan Bros Baju Raja Solo ini sebutkan pada admin Kode Produk P2854. JIKA ANDA MENGINGINKAN PRODUK PUSAKA DUNIA YANG BERTUAH BISA LIHAT DISINI Pusaka Dunia Menjual Bros Baju Raja Soloberkualitas dan bukan Bros Baju Raja Solo murahan sehingga jangan samakan dengan produk Bros Baju Raja Solo yang dijual di pasaran. Kasunanan Surakarta Hadiningrat Kasunanan Surakarta Hadiningrat adalah sebuah kerajaan di Jawa Tengah yang berdiri tahun 1755 sebagai hasil dari perjanjian Giyanti 13 Februari 1755. Perjanjian antara VOC dengan pihak-pihak yang bersengketa di Kesultanan Mataram, yaitu Sunan Pakubuwana III dan Pangeran Mangkubumi, menyepakati bahwa Kesultanan Mataram dibagi dalam dua wilayah kekuasaan yaitu Surakarta dan Yogyakarta. Kasunanan Surakarta umumnya tidak dianggap sebagai pengganti Kesultanan Mataram, melainkan sebuah kerajaan tersendiri, walaupun rajanya masih keturunan raja Mataram. Setiap raja Kasunanan Surakarta yang bergelar Sunan (demikian pula raja Kasultanan Yogyakarta yang bergelar Sultan) selalu menanda-tangani kontrak politik dengan VOC atau Pemerintah Hindia Belanda. Latar belakang Kesultanan Mataram yang runtuh akibat pemberontakan Trunajaya tahun 1677 ibukotanya oleh Sunan Amral dipindahkan di Kartasura. Pada masa Sunan Pakubuwana II memegang tampuk pemerintahan keraton Mataram mendapat serbuan dari pemberontakan orang-orang Tionghoa yang mendapat dukungan dari orang-orang Jawa anti VOC tahun 1742. Kerajaan Mataram yang berpusat di Kartasura itu mengalami keruntuhannya. Kota Kartasura berhasil direbut kembali berkat bantuan Adipati Cakraningrat IV penguasa Madura barat yang merupakan sekutu VOC, namun keadaannya sudah rusak parah. Pakubuwana II yang menyingkir ke Ponorogo, kemudian memutuskan untuk membangun istana baru di desa Sala sebagai ibukota kerajaan Mataram yang baru. Pembangunan Keraton Surakarta Bangunan Keraton Kartasura yang sudah hancur dan dianggap "tercemar". Sunan Pakubuwana II lalu memerintahkan Tumenggung Honggowongso (bernama kecil Joko Sangrib atau Kentol Surawijaya, kelak diberi gelar Tumenggung Arungbinang I), bersama Tumenggung Mangkuyudha, serta komandan pasukan Belanda, J.A.B. van Hohendorff, untuk mencari lokasi ibu kota/keraton yang baru. Untuk itu dibangunlah keraton baru 20 km ke arah tenggara dari Kartasura, pada 1745, tepatnya di Desa Sala di tepi Bengawan Solo. Untuk pembangunan kraton ini, Pakubuwono II membeli tanah seharga selaksa keping emas yang diberikan kepada akuwu (lurah) Desa Sala yang dikenal sebagai Ki Gede Sala. Di tengah pembangunan Kraton, Ki Gede Sala meninggal dan dimakamkan di area kraton. Surakarta Nama "Surakarta" diberikan sebagai nama "wisuda" bagi pusat pemerintahan baru ini. Pembangunan keraton ini menurut catatan menggunakan bahan kayu jati dari kawasan Alas Kethu, hutan di dekat Wonogiri dan kayunya dihanyutkan melalui Bengawan Solo. Secara resmi, keraton mulai ditempati tanggal 17 Februari 1745 (atau Rabu Pahing 14 Sura 1670 Penanggalan Jawa, Wuku Landep, Windu Sancaya). Perjanjian Giyanti Berlakunya Perjanjian Giyanti (13 Februari 1755) menyebabkan Surakarta menjadi pusat pemerintahan Kasunanan Surakarta, dengan rajanya Pakubuwana III. Yogyakarta menjadi pusat pemerintahan Kasultanan Yogyakarta, dengan rajanya Sultan Hamengkubuwana I. Keraton dan kota Yogyakarta mulai dibangun pada 1755, dengan pola tata kota yang sama dengan Surakarta yang lebih dulu dibangun. Perjanjian Salatiga 1757 memperkecil wilayah Kasunanan, dengan diberikannya wilayah sebelah utara keraton kepada pihak Pangeran Sambernyawa (Mangkunagara I). Gambar Foto Bros Baju Raja Solo Gambar Foto Produk hanya di resize dan tanpa editan sama sekali Kkami tampilkan jarak dekat sehingga anda bisa melihat tanpa ada yang di sembunyikan kekurangan dan kelebihannya. Karena bagi kami kejujuran dan kepuasan anda yang utama dan bukan mengutamakan keuntungan semata. Hak Cipta Gambar Foto. Gambar Foto Produk Bros Baju Raja Solo merupakan foto asli dari Pusaka Dunia sehingga jika ada penjual online dengan foto yang sama tanpa ijin, dipastikan penjual tersebut telah melakukan pencurian gambar foto hak cipta Pusaka Dunia. 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[babilano-celentano]

“psychedelic bedroom dj”

ugh

https://hearthis.at/babilano/o-perse-o-kitara-ravache/

tracks by konstruktivits, mother tongue, brian harnetty, david toop, miguel flores, lia kohl, eli keszler, angkanang kunchai& ubon pattana band, amral's trinidad cavaliers, dirty melvin, vicone, kanding ray, pzg & dubsknit, mental sin & disrrr, baxter, cstacks, distortion six, metal urbain, boris ginyrya

[amralimesoti]

Kiss Meme Week!

@alasmaghilana‘s Drudwyn Surana @seablrd‘s Seabird Lavellan @inquisitorialbusiness‘s Haleir Tralinson @ethadahlen‘s Cerise Lavellan @sternenstaub28‘s Bella Surana @theweepingstar‘s Orel Lavellan And the ever lovely Idrial Lavellan

[fantasyinallforms]

17 + Bagginshield 👀

Thank you for the ask!! Alright, 17- to Distract

~~~~~~~~

Bilbo was sitting in his armchair. One hand was clutching the armrest. The other was squeezing Thorin's fingers. When he agreed to get a tattoo, he had VASTLY underestimated how much it would hurt. It ached, not at first but with every new tap to his previously unblemished skin. He had let Thorin and Dwalin talk him into getting a tattoo to commemorate the journey. All of the company had gotten something at this point except himself. 

"Bilbo, will you sit still for Mahal's sake! We're almost done. And don't clench your fist; it tenses your shoulder." 

"Dwalin, I've been sitting still for hours!" Bilbo complained. He relaxed his firsts as best he could.

He had agonized over what to get for weeks. It was his first tattoo, after all, and it would be very permanent, so it needed to be something he liked. He thought about a small red dragon, like Dwalin had gotten but shivered at the thought. Dwalin had not faced down said dragon. He needed no permanent reminder of that.

He thought maybe a barrel like Dori and Nori had gotten. He thought better of that too. He had no barrel of his own on that river and almost drowned, to boot. Not memories he wanted affixed to him. 

He gave serious consideration to a likeness of the key that started the journey as Thorin himself had chosen but decided against that as well. It suited his handsome, wonderful dwarf very well, but it did not mean the same thing to himself as it did Thorin. He finally settled on the symbols that truly started his little adventure. Three runic marks on his door. Burglar. Danger. Reward. 

He hears Thorin try and stifle a snicker and pass it off as a cough. He was looking at him amusedly. 

"Wats so amusing then?" Bilbo huffed 

"You've been sitting here for barely 35 minutes.” He pointed out. Drat! Had so little time passed! The pain was messing with him. He had never had a very high pain tolerance, as this experience was reminding him.  

“Done!” Dwalin shouted. Bilbo looked over to admire his work, but Thorin’s hand laid heavy on his chest. 

“He has to disinfect it first, Amral. So you don’t get an infection.” He watched Dwalin take a damp rag out of a shallow sweet smelling bowl. 

“This might… sting a bit, laddie.” Bilbo tensed and braced, but all of that was swept away by the feeling of Thorin’s lips on his. He barely noticed the sting of the cloth on his skin. All he cared about was that wonderful dwarven mouth on his. He was released a moment later, blinking in the afterglow of being so thoroughly snogged. 

“I thought it might be a pleasant distraction.” Thorin’s eyes were full of affection, and it was always a joy to see. 

“You should distract me like that again… right now.” Bilbo cooed. 

“At least let me get out of the room first,” Dwain grumbled.   

----  

Fun kissing prompt game to be found here!

[curly-italian]

Amral's Trinidad Cavaliers Steel Orchestra - Oye Como Va

[soulmusicsongs]

Funky Stuff - Amral's Trinidad Cavaliers Steel Orch. (Heat, 1975)

[official-lucifers-child]

attention nerds and gaymers i have a shitton of new terms of endearment for y’all so if i’m calling you some seemingly-made up word like mimkhi or amral just know it’s basically like hon or babes or dear, just a more casual term of endearment. and like with all of my other such habits, please tell me if you are uncomfortable with it and i will cease

[thotinshield]

If you're still doing the kiss prompts, 42 for Bagginshield?

Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.

“Bilbo.”

“Mm.”

“Bilbo.”

“I’ll be there in a moment, Thorin,” Bilbo says distractedly, waving his hand in the general direction behind him where he thinks his husband is. He just has to finish this page and then he can attend to whatever it is that his dwarf thinks is so urgent. 

Just one more page. 

Bilbo startles, almost knocking over the pot of ink to his right. Thorin presses a second kiss to the side of his face. 

“Thorin--”

Thorin cuts him off, tilting his head back slightly and pressing their mouths together fully. Bilbo huffs, letting his eyes fall shut as he momentarily loses himself in the kiss. It is rather nice, but his thoughts draw back towards the book laid out on his desk. 

He pushes at Thorin’s chest and Thorin pulls away. 

“Lovely at that is, I just have to finish--”

“One more page?” Thorin finishes wryly. 

“Yes,” Bilbo says, and he moves to turn but Thorin catches his chin in a gentle grip. 

“You have been saying that for the last hour, amral, come to bed with me. Your story can wait a night’s sleep to be written.”

It is hard to argue with a determined dwarf like Thorin, Bilbo thinks, winding his arms around his neck when Thorin kisses him again.