#silmsmutexchange

[silmsmutexchange]

Signups open!

Signups for Silmarillion Smut Exchange 2024 are now open!

You can find the signup form on our AO3 profile.

The exchange tagset is available for viewing here.

Please don't hesitate to contact the mod with any questions about signups or how to use the form. Signups will be open for the next week. As a reminder, requests will be visible after signups are closed.

[oakenting]

Hello! I was assigned your request for Silmarillion Smut Exchange, and I wanted to ask if there is any one particular paring (or several pairings) on your list you are especially partial to. Thank you!

Oh hi there!

Thanks for asking :) I added the pairings more or less in the order I prefer. I do have a soft spot for Indis/Nerdanel at the moment (because I wrote something for them for TRSB). Also there's never enough fem!slash imo. That being said Celebrimbor/Narvi would actually be higher on the list because I live dwarves, I just found them last.

I hope this helps a bit in deciding :) I know I left my request pretty open. There's just so many things I like.

[melestasflight]

‘You have returned to Middle-earth for Maglor Fëanorion, you said?’ Elrond asks. ‘Yes, I am to beckon him come back to Valinor at last,’ Fingon answers hopefully. Few others had been willing to return to Middle-earth, and Fingon had already saved a Fëanorian cousin before. That made him more qualified for this task than most.

Had a blast writing this Fingon/Maglor for @silmsmutexchange based on @whovianofmidgard fantastic prompts. Shoutout to @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras and @mircallaruthven for helping me spin the Rohirrim worldbuilding. This was a new challenge for me.

[silmsmutweek]

Challenges

Starting Sept 6, we'll be posting a creative challenge every Friday and Saturday to help get your creative juices flowing.

During Silm Smut Week (Sept 30 to Oct 6), we'll continue to encourage engagement with some simpler daily challenges!

We'll update this post with a list of challenges as they are released.

Challenges to Date

Indulge. Set the word ‘cringe’ on fire. Throw that voice of judgement from the Caragdûr. Create a fanwork for pure pleasure.

Collaborate. Co-create a fanwork with someone else.

Give. Fill a smutty prompt (@silmkinkmeme has lots!) or invite others to send you smutty prompts.

Exchange. Create art for someone else’s smut fic or write a smut fic based on someone else’s art. Be sure to credit their inspiration!

Inspire. Create a playlist of sexy tunes for a favourite character or ship.

Share. Create a list of smutty recs. If you like, you can theme your list around a specific Silm Smut Week day or prompt.

Encourage. Nominate tags for @silmsmutexchange, a new mature & explicit fic exchange running Oct-Dec.

Engage. Leave a comment or send an ask to a creator letting them know what you like about their work. Consider asking a question, too

Appreciate. Find a smut fic with fewer than 20 kudos and/or 2 comment threads, read it, and leave a comment.

Discover. Read a smut fic posted on a smaller archive or community. We’ve already started a search for you on the Silmarillion Writers’ Guild!

Venture. Read a kink or trope you’ve never read before (and don’t forget to comment if you liked it!). 

[runawaymun]

Authors are unmasked for the @silmsmutexchange :D so now I get to share the fic I got to write for @senalishia

Coda (E) - Gil-Galad/Elrond/Celebrían

Elrond gets tied up, edged, and fucked within an inch of his life -- all in that order. 🫡

This was a lot of fun to write! Features improper use of Songs of Power and a very healthy dose of Eldritch Peredhel, because of course. Enjoy!!

[silmkinkmeme]

Promptfest Index

The kinkmeme's month-long Promptfest is over! Thank you everyone who followed it, reblogged the prompts and wrote fills for them. The Promptfest was certainly a success as it's seen a drastic increase in the number of prompts and fills during the last month. As of now, there are 351 prompts and 169 works in the collection as well as several new prompts in Prompt Post 1 on dreamwidth.

I will give it a few weeks and sum up the fics that have been written for Promptfest prompts. We already have several. For now, take a look at the Promptfest Index below, maybe you'll like some of the prompts. You can even find inspiration for @silmsmutweek or @silmsmutexchange in some of the prompts.

Day 1 - Celegorm/Orome, Celegorm/many others - gangbang

Day 2 - Gen/optional ships - Shaving

Day 3 - Caranthir/Haleth/Caranthir's Wife - anything

Day 4 - Pregnancy/Breeding kink Curufin/Finrod

Day 5 - Phantom of the Opera inspired orc-elf relationship

Day 6 - Eärwen/Finarfin- gentle femdom, hair kink

Day 7 - Fingolfin gets fucked by Ringil's hilt

Day 8 - Any - Menstrual Sex 

Day 9 - Elrond, the dragon, kidnaps Disa, the princess

Day 10 - Gap Filler - Post-Nirnaeth Wanderings of the SoF

Day 11 - Feanor rides Nerdanel's strap

Day 12 - Tulkas/Fingon, Sexy Times

Day 13 - Turgon and Maeglin

Day 14 - Russingon - Introducing a third/proxy fucking

Day 15 - Maedhros as a werewolf

Day 16 - Finrod/Maglor

Day 17 - Fingon and Finrod Helcaraxe Bonding

Day 18 - Maedhros doms Fingon to trust himself again

Day 19 - Elros seduces Maglor

Day 20 - Rarepair woes: Finrod/Maedhros/Maglor

Day 21 - Nolofinweans should be leashed, sexily

Day 22 - Soft Russingon - comfort fic

Day 23 - Touch-starvation and non-sexual intimacy

Day 24 - Kink-Rape/Noncon

Day 25 - Anthology of female friendship

Day 26 - Maedhros/Maglor, king/vassal dynamics

Day 27 - maedhros and maglor share each other's partners

Day 28 - Maglor time travel AU

Day 29 - Aredhel/Fingon (Others/Fingon), Feminization

Day 30 - Indis doms Feanor

[silmsmutexchange]

Save the date(s) for Silmarillion Smut Exchange 2024!

What:

A gift exchange for mature and explicit Silm fanworks (fic and art), hosted on AO3. You'll sign up to create and receive a work of fanfic of minimum 1,000 words, or a piece of fanart consisting of, at minimum, clean linework on unlined paper featuring a character or ship from The Silmarillion. Either will have a mature or explicit rating.

When:

Nominations: Sept. 30-Oct 7, 2024

Signups: Oct. 8-15, 2024

Works due: Nov. 22, 2024

Works revealed: Nov. 29, 2024

Creators revealed: Dec. 6, 2024

Questions?

Send an ask or email silmsmutmod@gmail.com.

[maironsbigboobs]

For @silmsmutexchange I wrote a little piece of Arafinwë being a dreadful tease, Fëanor being a dashing knight, and Finwë being completely oblivious.

For @a-world-of-whimsy-5 🥰

Favoured

E, 3.6k, Fëanor/Finarfin. No Archive Warnings

Additional tags: Half Sibling Incest, Medieval AU, Jousting, Secret Relationships

Arafinwë provides his brother with some motivation to win a joust.

“Leave us, Netiltamo.”

The silken voice of his brother interrupted the clanking as Netiltamo struggled with the armour. His squire was still a boy, and neither strong nor tall enough to properly help Fëanor into his armour. He would not have taken him on if Maedhros had not reached an age to have squires of his own, and Nerdanel had not insisted on it - he was some cousin of hers, and for her alone would he do such favours.

He hovered hesitantly, looking between the princes. Fëanor rolled his eyes. “You heard him, boy. Go and prepare my horse. I trust you know how?”

“Yes, my lord.” He bowed hurriedly, first to Fëanor and then Arafinwë, and then all but fled from the room. Arafinwë's laugh was smooth and sweet as honey.

“I am surprised you keep him, brother.” Without Fëanor’s asking, he pulled on the strap of his breastplate, strength behind slender fingers. “You were never the type to suffer incompetence.”

His youngest brother had always been a mystery to him. Sent away as a ward as a boy, Fëanor recalled he had gone from infant to man in what seemed like an instant - and what a man he had become, willowy and golden and always arrayed in riches. His wife’s riches.

Fëanor’s heart grew cold. Since Arafinwë's wedding almost a year ago, they had not been alone together. His brother was likely no longer interested in their game - and yet, here he was, tightening the straps of the armour, and his fingers seemed to seek any small inch of exposed skin. Fëanor frowned. He disliked how Arafinwë toyed with his words; he never said what he was thinking, and Fëanor, usually so sharp, always found it hard to perceive his mind.

“Why have you come, Arafinwë?”

“Why do you think I have come?”

“I do not know.” Envy sparked. Why did he think Arafinwë had come? What kind of a question was that - how was he to know his brother’s thoughts, when he had so suddenly declared he was to be married, and left Fëanor cold? “Why should you come to me, when you have a wife now, and by all accounts you have hardly left her side since your wedding day. No doubt she gives you something you enjoy far more than my company, since I have not even had a letter, never mind an invitation to Alqualondë.”

Arafinwë's pale eyes had darkened, and his laugh was husky. “Your envy compels me so, brother. Fear not. You are not forgotten.” His hand cupped Fëanor’s cheek, brushing his thumb over the arch. “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but mine has grown... hungrier. I wondered if you still thought of me. Of us.”

He held his face still, leaning close. Fëanor could smell his expensive perfume, crisp and fresh as the sea air. His lips were pink, full - they were so close that Fëanor could see the faint wine stain on them.

“I have missed you. Of course I still desire you, Arafinwë. Your kisses haunt me.” Fëanor closed his eyes, leaning to kiss his brother sweetly.

But he found instead cold metal, as Arafinwë raised his helm, laughing. “Not here, brother. Anyone might see.”

“Is it not scandalous enough that you dismissed your squire so tersely?” Fëanor countered, flush with wounded pride. “There will be questions.”

“Questions?” Arafinwë laughed as he lifted the helm. “What questions should there be, of a man helping his brother prepare to joust.”

“You have a different kind of jousting on your mind.”

He set the helm on Fëanor’s head, and Fëanor lamented the loss of his touch. It had been too long since he had felt an intimate touch; Nerdanel devoted more time to her craft than their marital bed these days, and, after seven sons, he did not hold it against her - but as much as he still enjoyed her companionship, sometimes he still longed for more than his own hand.

“But if it is rumours you want, dearest brother, perhaps this will cause them.”

Arafinwë's long hair was bound into a crown with white ribbons, and with nimble fingers (and enough ease that Fëanor suspected this had been his intention all along) unthreaded one of the outermost ribbons. He pressed it first to his lips in a tender kiss, and then tied it around Fëanor’s upper arm.

He kissed the cold metal, but Fëanor would have sworn to all the gods that he felt the warmth of his lips through his armour. “A favour, for my princely champion.”

“You will raise Father’s eyebrows.” Fëanor thought of their father, seeing the white ribbon fluttering around his arm, and the conspicuous absence of it in Arafinwë's hair. A pity he would not see his expression from the field.

“Be serious, brother. He would simply be pleased we are, ah, how does he say it? Playing nicely.”

Fëanor laughed. Arafinwë was right; their father would overlook many transgressions if he could pretend his sons were getting along. Perhaps he already knew, and turned a blind eye to it. That would not surprise him.

“Now.” Arafinwë pressed another kiss to the cold metal over his cheek. “Win a golden laurel for me, my prince, and I will give you the sweetest prize.”

Then he was gone, without another word, the tent flap blowing the breeze behind him. Fëanor sighed, collecting himself before he followed. He had a tournament to win. As he followed his brother out of the tent, Netiltamo brought his horse over, and Fëanor led it to the waiting grounds while the young man struggled to carry his lance.

A lesser man than Fëanor might have found such stimulating thoughts a distraction, but as he mounted his horse and readied his lance, he felt only intense focus. He had dismissed this tournament initially as dull pageantry; now he had a reason to win.

The first joust was easy, against an adolescent grandson of Ingwë. It took only a single round to knock him off his horse, to wild applause. He glanced at the royal box and smiled beneath his helm.

Arafinwë was there, and over the field their eyes met. Arafinwë lifted his drink to his lips, taking a long, slow drink, and as he lowered the goblet Fëanor could see the drops of purple wine still on his lips. Never breaking eye contact, he watched his brother’s pink tongue dart out and lick the drops.

Wretched man. He gripped the lance tightly. He could not afford to lose focus. If Arafinwë’s taunting led to his defeat, his brother would be insufferable.

He waited as the rounds continued, defeating another three knights with relative ease. His mind kept turning back to Arafinwë, and the prize he had promised if he won. It made it easy to drown out the rest of the rounds - he had never found watching as entertaining as competing.

Finally, it came down to him, and one other competitor.

Across the field, his next opponent — a pale haired Telerin man, with a trio of pink seashells painted on his breastplate — was having his saddle adjusted. The man had already proven himself in the earlier jousts, unseating two princes and a lord’s son in the preceding rounds.

But Fëanor was certain he would be his match. The white ribbon on his arm fluttered in the breeze, fueling his confidence. He looked over at the royal box again. His father was leaning forward, gripping the edge of the box. Arafinwë was relaxed, whispering in his wife’s ear.

Once more, envy twisted in his gut. How unfair, that she could touch him how she pleased, kiss him when she desired, how she could demand his fidelity. He could do all those things better, in her place, and yet Arafinwë was there mooning over her like he had not taunted Fëanor only an hour ago.

A horn’s sharp call. Fëanor snapped back to attention.

A second call, and then the sound of thundering hooves as both knights charged. Fëanor’s lance was steady in his grip, his eyes sharp as flint beneath the gleam of his helm.

The impact came hard and fast. Fëanor felt the jarring shudder of his lance as it struck true against his opponent’s shield, but the angle was wrong, too steep, the blow too glancing. The lance splintered, shards of painted wood scattering like embers into the air.

He reined in his horse sharply, tossing the shattered haft of his lance aside with a casual flick of his wrist. His squire darted forward to offer another, but Fëanor did not take it straight away.

Instead, he looked again to the royal box. He could not see Arafinwë at first. Then he emerged from behind a curtain, flushed with the wind, or perhaps the wine. Eärwen was still beside him. Fëanor reached up and felt the smoothness of the ribbon between his fingers, and thought of Arafinwë’s tender kiss, of the sweetness victory would bring.

He took his lance and faced the field again.

The second pass was faster, more brutal. Fëanor’s new lance struck the knight’s breastplate with enough force to crack the painted design that adorned it, like splitting open the middle seashell. The blow sent the other knight reeling, his balance faltering, but he managed to stay astride. Fëanor felt the force of the other knight’s lance against his shield, the impact ringing through his arm like a hammer strike. It would ache for days afterwards, but in the moment the pain was meaningless. The winner’s laurel was all that mattered now.

He swung his horse around for the third turn, another fresh lance hurriedly pressed into his hands. He did not look at his brother, or anyone else. He could not afford a lapse of focus.

As the third horn blew, Fëanor’s horse leapt forward, the knight’s heels driving it to almost reckless speed. His lance was steady this time, his aim true, and as they closed the distance, he adjusted at the last possible moment, shifting the angle ever so slightly.

The Teleri knight’s lance came forward—but Fëanor was faster, stronger, spurred on by the thought that Arafinwë was watching. The tip struck his opponent’s shield with an almighty crack, the sheer force of it ripping the shield from the knight’s arm. Fëanor drove the lance upwards, catching his opponent square in the chest.

The knight toppled, his horse rearing in protest as he crashed to the ground with the sound of clattering steel.

Fëanor reined his stallion to a halt, lowering his lance slowly as he turned to regard his fallen foe. The knight was being helped to his feet by his squire, his helm askew and his pride in tatters. Fëanor grinned.

I must ask Arafinwë to compete next time. He would take deep pleasure in seeing him sprawled in the dirt.

The crowd erupted. He could see his father cheering, even his stepmother clapping from her seat. But as he approached the box to take his victor’s laurel, he only had eyes for Arafinwë. By the gods, he looked beautiful there, cheering and laughing. Fëanor was seized by the urge to kiss him.

In another life, it would be Arafinwë he knelt before, hair tumbling in inky waves down his back as he tucked his helm under his arm. It would be Arafinwë’s delicate hands that placed the golden laurel on his head, not the Queen’s. It would be Arafinwë’s honeyed voice that declared him the victor.

But that life could not be. Fëanor rose to the crowd’s raucous applause, tall and proud. His father clapped him on the shoulder, his hand just above the white ribbon. If he thought anything of it, he said nothing, but Fëanor was certain his gaze lingered on it a moment too long.

“Congratulations, my son!” Finwë beamed, “An excellent performance, as ever! You had even Arafinwë on the edge of his seat, and you know how he finds jousting dull.”

“My brother wields his lance so boldly,” Arafinwë said, dryly. “I found myself trembling with excitement.”

“See, he even admits it.” Finwë did not seem to find his comment strange, only laughing. “Go and get yourself out of this dusty armour, son, and then we can truly celebrate! Steward! Bring out the best wine!”

Fëanor bowed his head to his father, and, with a pointed glance at Arafinwë, excused himself to his tent.

It was warm in there, and he discarded his helm, shaking out his hair. The silence felt heavy, the outside world muffled by the fabric walls.

“There is my bold and shining knight.”

Arafinwë had slipped in behind him, and now pressed himself to Fëanor’s back, his arms slipping around his waist. Fëanor heard the click of a buckle, and then felt his greaves fall away and clatter to the fall. So much for silence.

“You rode so well today.” Arafinwë laughed as he continued to strip Fëanor of his armour. “If only I were a horse.”

Fëanor was silent, drinking in Arafinwë’s words. Desire consumed him; it burned like flame in his gut, turning him to ash from the inside out. Twisted desire, almost sickening in its strength, for his own brother. It was a force he reckoned with every time he saw Arafinwë, since that first stolen kiss. Sometimes, on lonely nights, he entertained the fantasy of taking his brother to wife and keeping him, adorned in naught but gold, away from the sight and scorn of other men. It had only ever been a dream, and yet now it felt more impossible than ever, with Arafinwë wed and far away. It only made the desire burn hotter.

His brother turned to stand before him inside, pressing a feather light kiss to the curve of Fëanor’s jaw. Pulled back into the present, Fëanor smiled, cupping his cheek. Oh, how he longed to devour him.

“We will be heard here. There are people just outside.”

“You had best stay quiet, then, if you want to enjoy your prize.” Arvo sank down to his knees, elegant as ever. With deft fingers, he freed Fëanor’s cock from his breeches, curling his hand around the girth of it. “I know that is a challenge for you, brother.”

“You have such an attitude today, brother.” Fëanor sighed, soft and content, as Arafinwë took him in his mouth. It was blissful; the warm, soft heat of Arafinwë’s mouth around his cock, and it took all his willpower not to spill there and then.

Arafinwë did not make it easy for him. What he could not fit in his mouth he stroked with a feather light touch. As he pulled back to catch his breath, he teased the head of his cock with his tongue, flicking over the silt, looking up at Fëanor as if daring him to lose control.

“If you are trying to impress me, you will have to try harder.”

Arafinwë said nothing, but took that as a challenge, sinking down on his cock until he gagged, coughing around him - but he did not stop, only slowing, until his nose was pressed against the soft curls at the base of his cock. Fëanor studied him - Arafinwë’s eyes closed, his cheeks hollowed, the watery tears on his lashes.

“This is what you were made for, brother. Forget your diplomacies and paintbrushes; you were born to swallow my cock.”

He felt Arafinwë moan around him, the vibrations sending a piercing bolt of desire through him. Since this was his prize, he let Arafinwë do the work, as he slowly bobbed his head back and forth, laving his cock with his tongue as he did, and raising one long fingered, graceful hand to stroke his balls, knowing exactly how Fëanor liked to be touched.

“Perfect, little prize. You are wonderful.” he praised, closing his eyes and relaxing, his cock twitching in Arafinwë’s mouth. As much as he wanted this to last, the thought of forcing his brother to swallow his seed was deeply appealing. “Take all of it, brother, you are a perfect royal slut.”

Arvo sat back on his haunches. His lips were pink and swollen. Fëanor's cock throbbed at the sight, but he scowled, disappointed at losing the heat of his mouth.

“You talk too much.” Arafinwë’s gaze was overflowing with desire. Fëanor knew what he was pushing for - and, well, he saw no reason to deny him today.

“Brat.” Fëanor hauled him up the collar of his shirt, shoving him against the table. It rattled dangerously, but for now it would hold firm. “You are fortunate I do not have the patience to teach you a lesson.”

As Arafinwë laughed, Fëanor pulled down his trousers and pushed up his long tunic, running his hand over the smooth skin of his ass. Even (especially!) here, Arafinwë was beautiful.

He slipped his fingers to his hole, thinking of how best to tease him, when he found Arafinwë had already thought ahead. His fingers came away slick.

“Whore. When did you do this?”

“While you were jousting.” Arafinwë’s face was pink, and Fëanor noted with pride how lust had turned his pale eyes to deep sapphire. “‘Twas Eärwen's idea.”

If he had been of a clearer mind, he might have questioned that further. But as it stood, he knew they had little time, and his lust threatened to overwhelm him - besides, he wanted Arafinwë thinking of him, not his wife.

“Please, brother.” Arafinwë moaned as Fëanor ran his finger over the rim of his hole, just barely slipping two of them inside. Arafinwë squirmed.

“Now who is making too much noise?” Fëanor taunted, but he gave in, burying himself deep within Arafinwë. For a moment, all was still - there was nothing in the world but the two of them and the ecstasy of their union - Arafinwë seemed made for him, drawing him in, welcoming him. Fëanor leaned over him, smothering his body with his own weight. The movement elicited another needy groan, louder and more desperate.

“Perhaps you need some help keeping quiet.” His gaze landed on the ribbon on the floor. Fëanor withdrew, leaving Arafinwë whining at the emptiness, and retrieved it, running the silk through his fingers.

“Hush now, Arafinwë.” He balled up the ribbon and shoved it into his mouth. Arafinwë glared at him, but the indignant noise he made was well muffled. Much better.

With a single rapid thrust, he was inside him again, and Arafinwë’s head lolled against the table as he rocked his hips back to meet each of Fëanor's thrusts. He fucked him hungrily, nails digging into his hips where he held him, the only sound in the room his soft panting, Arafinwë’s muffled moans, and the slick sound of flesh on flesh. He had intended to draw it out, savour Arafinwë’s body, but the intensity of his lust consumed him, chasing all thoughts from his mind except his desire.

Arafinwë was no less eager. Fëanor watched him, clumsy in the haze of arousal, slip his hand between his legs to relieve the burning need for touch, watched his head press against the desk in an effort not to cry out. Fëanor chased his climax, pounding ever more fiercely into Arafinwë’s pliant body.

Arafinwë gave a muffled cry of his name and arched, every muscle of his body tight and clenched. He was beautiful as he climaxed, nails scrabbling for purchase on the desk - if he were ever to paint a portrait of Arafinwë, it would be in a moment like this.

Fëanor could hold back no longer. He fucked Arafinwë through his climax, leaving him limp and whimpering, until the pressure building in his gut reached a breaking point, and he spilled inside him with a long, drawn out groan, biting his own sleeve to silence it.

Panting, he leaned down, savouring the comforting feeling of being inside his brother until he became too sensitive. He pulled out, then kissed his shoulder softly before gently taking the ribbon from his mouth. Arafinwë grinned lazily at him.

“You’ve made a mess of me, brother.”

“It is never your fault, is it, Arafinwë?” Fëanor snorted, retrieving one of the rags used to polish armour, and wiping himself with it. Ever the gentleman (or, at least one in his own mind) he cleaned his brother up too, before casting the rag aside. Not the best solution, but there was something tantalising knowing that Arafinwë would return to the celebrations with the evidence of their deed still inside him.

Arafinwë laughed, standing up and fixing his clothes. Thankfully, his tunic was long and thick enough to hide anything suspicious, and Fëanor was beginning to suspect that Eärwen would not be questioning him about it - or rather, her questions would be of quite a different nature. Perhaps he had been hasty in writing her off as just a pretty, young, princess.

“Thank you, brother, for the reunion. I had truly missed you dearly in Alqualondë.” Arafinwë checked his reflection in a polished shield, tucking in some loose strands of hair. “I must invite you to come and stay with us there at some point. I am sure Eärwen will be thrilled to host you.”

He did not wait for an answer, slipping out of the tent and disappearing.

Fëanor looked down at himself. While he was sure his father would sing his praises even if he turned up in his sweat-soaked tunic, he decided it was not quite fitting of the tournament’s victor, and turned to his trunk to change, the golden laurel still gleaming on his head.

Some prizes could impress even a prince.

[oakenting]

Feeling love all around me

My submission for @silmsmutexchange written for @that-angry-noldo

Summary: Eärwen and Arafinwë make love to Eönwë who has never tried incarnate pleasure before. Rating: Explicit Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Relationship: Eärwen/Eönwë/Finarfin Characters: Eärwen, Eönwë, Finarfin Tags: Smut, Touching, First Time, Vaginal Sex, Love, Threesome - F/M/M, Slow Build, Interspecies, Maia Otherness, Scars, Tenderness, Tender Sex, these three care for each other and it's beautiful Word count: 2.6k

Read the story on AO3.

I had a great time writing about these three and I hope it shows :D

[fanwork-exchange-promos]

Silmarillion Smut Exchange

Posted by: silmsmutexchange Link: Dreamwidth,Tumblr, AO3 Description: A gift exchange for mature and explicit Silmarillion fanworks (fic and art), hosted on AO3. You'll sign up to create and receive a work of fanfic of minimum 1,000 words, or a piece of fanart consisting of, at minimum, clean linework on unlined paper featuring a character or ship from The Silmarillion. Either will have a mature or explicit rating. Schedule: Nominations: Sept. 30-Oct 7, 2024 Signups: Oct. 8-15, 2024 Works due: Nov. 22, 2024 Works revealed: Nov. 29, 2024 Creators revealed: Dec. 6, 2024 comments via The Fandom Calendar https://ift.tt/PGIJp6D

[silmsmutexchange]

Nominations open

I know it's Sept 29 (in my time zone, anyway) but I have decided to go ahead and open up the exchange tagset a day early for nominations!

If you click on the above link, you'll see a button on the top right of the screen that says "Nominate" - clicking on that link will take you to the nominations form, where you can nominate up to 10 relationships. You can check the tag set for which ships have been approved already.

Please allow up to 24h for nominations to be reviewed/approved. As a reminder, threesomes and moresomes, canon character/OC and character/reader ships are allowed.

If canonical ship tags exist on AO3, please use them to the best of your ability.

Signups will open a week from Tuesday, 10/8/2024, so start thinking about your requests, offers and prompts if you haven't already!

[silmsmutexchange]

Exchange Rules and FAQs

Please familiarize yourself with exchange rules before participating. The goal of this exchange is to be fun and to foster enthusiasm for M- and E-rated works in Silmarillion fandom. Questions can be directed to the mod email account, silmsmutmod@gmail.com, to the exchange’s Tumblr askbox, or as a comment on Dreamwidth.

2024 Schedule:

Nominations: Sept. 30-Oct 7, 2024

Signups: Oct. 8-15, 2024

Works due: Nov. 22, 2024

Works revealed: Nov. 29, 2024

Creators revealed: Dec. 6, 2024

Eligibility:

You must be 18+ to participate in this exchange. One signup per person.

This exchange is hosted on AO3. You must have an AO3 account to participate. If you don’t currently have an account and would like one, the mod has a limited number of account invitations available; please contact them to request one.

Expectations:

You will make and receive a work of fanfiction or fanart focused on one or more Silmarillion characters, with a Mature or Explicit rating. For fanfiction, the minimum wordcount is 1,000 words. For fanart, works should be at minimum clean linework on unlined paper.

Nominations:

Nominations will run for one week, beginning Sept. 30.

Exchange tagset is located here. When nominations are open, you will see a button at the top right of your screen that says "Nominate." Clicking on this will take you to the nomination form. You can nominate up to 10 relationships via the form.

Why nominate?

Nominating helps you ensure the ships you want to create for are present in the tag set, particularly if they are not already canonical tags for The Silmarillion on AO3 (e.g. your rarest rarepairs, Character/OC ships etc). You can nominate up to 10 ships. Nominating helps potential participants get excited about the exchange and get ideas for what they might like to request/offer, which is important in a fandom with so many potential combinations of characters.

Do I have to nominate?

No. Before you submit your nominations, feel free to take a look at the tagset to see if your ships have already been nominated. If so, your work here is done, unless you feel like nominating other ships you don’t yet see in the tagset. If you’re a major multishipper you can even coordinate with your friends to make sure all your rare ships are included in the tagset.

What about threesomes/moresomes?

Threesomes/moresomes are eligible to be nominated.

What about ships with original characters?

Original characters are eligible to be nominated as part of a ship. (Ex. Maedhros/Original Male Character)

What about individual characters?

If you are interested in characters by themselves, this will be an opt-in you can include on your sign up.

What if I forgot to include a ship?

Ask someone to add it to their nominations, or email/send an ask to the mod and they will accomodate you as long as we are not too far into signups.

Signups:

The signup form will be located on the sidebar here. More specific instructions to come when signups open.

Keep in mind you MUST include some details of what you'd like your gift to contain, either in the Details section or in an optional linked "Dear Creator" letter that is complete and unlocked by the time signups close. These can be general likes, specific prompts, or a combination.

DNWs: if you have DNWs, these MUST be listed in the Details section. For the purposes of this exchange, please be specific in your DNWs - "DNW kink" is too vague. "DNW breathplay" or "DNW watersports" (for example) are easier for your creator to understand and work around.

Treats:

Requests will be visible throughout the exchange. If you are interested in writing or drawing treats/extra gifts, you can go ahead and post your work to the collection, check the "this work is a gift" box, and designate your recipient. You do not need to be signed up for the exchange to create treats.

Defaults/Pinch Hits:

Sometimes life happens and you are unable to complete your assignment. That's ok! If you know you will need to default, please do so as soon as possible to give us time to find an alternate creator to take on your assignment. If you default, you are not necessarily guaranteed a gift.

Calls for pinch hits will be posted on the exchange Tumblr and DW. If you are interested in being a pitch hitter, please let the mod know.

[silmsmutexchange]

Assignments out!

Please check the inbox associated with your AO3 account!

As a reminder, requests are now public! If you are interested in writing or making art treats (extra gifts), check them out now.

Works are due Nov 22, 2024.

[silmsmutexchange]

Last day for nominations!

Friendly reminder that nominations close tomorrow, Oct. 7! Signups will open on Tuesday, Oct. 8. We already have a whopping 151 ships in the tagset, so there's sure to be something for everyone.

[silmsmutexchange]

poll: request visibility

Hammering out the exchange FAQ/rules and hope to have those posted shortly, but I wanted ask for community input into one aspect.

For AO3 exchanges, there is an option for requests to be visible as people sign up and then throughout the exchange period. I see plusses to both keeping requests visible and keeping them hidden (of course you will be able to see your recipient requests). Visible requests are fun because you can see what other people are excited about receiving, you can tweak your offers to have a better chance of matching a given request, and people have the option to create treats whether or not they are participating in the main exchange.

On the other hand, part of my goal for this exchange is for people to ask for the smutty fanwork their hearts and loins desire, and I get that the idea of requests in this kind of exchange being visible to the public might inhibit that. Also, it can be fun to be totally surprised when you receive your assignment. A third option is to make requests visible after assignments go out to facilitate treats.

I can see the benefits of all 3 options! Hence, this poll.

[silmsmutweek]

Thanks for a bangin' Smut Week!

The week is officially over, but late contributions to the collection are always welcome.

Round-Up posts of all 73 works (!!) will be shared later this week. In the meantime, check out the tags on the blog and the 50 works in the AO3 collection.

If you haven't had enough, sign-ups for @silmsmutexchange are open until Tues, Oct 15 (unaffiliated with SilmSmutWeek, but enthusiastically endorsed by it!).