#turgon x finrod

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Abominations of the flesh

Day 5 Prompt: New companions

For: @feast-of-horns | Requested by MoonLord

Rating: E

Pairing: Celegorm/Curufin/Turgon/Finrod

Themes: NSFW | NSFT

Warnings: Kissing | Incest | Celegorm and Curufin are up to no good

Wordcount: 3.2k words

Summary: Celegorm and Curufin are convinced there is something more than friendship between Turgon and Finrod. Turgon and Finrod think otherwise. Their cousins are determined to show them there is more to their bond than they think.

Minors DNI | 18+

A/n: A big thank you to @cilil and @urwendii for their help with Turgon's pre-Alqualondë personality and the idea that inspired this fic.

This is also available on AO3

The feast was a riotous affair. Many ate and drank their fill. A few ate and drank more than they ought to. Some sang bawdy airs. Others laughed. Many and more prepared themselves for the chase that was to follow. Turukáno was scandalized as he observed everything taking place around him. 

“Do all of the Valar conduct themselves in such a debauched manner during these feasts?” He whispered to his cousin in disbelief. 

“Not just the Valar, cousin.” Findaráto was as taken aback as he was, but his curiosity remained undiminished. “The Maiar and their attendants, and even our fellow elves.” 

Turukáno, his cheeks aflame, touched the crown sitting amidst his hair. Gold horns inlaid with brilliant white enamel gleamed as they rose from a thin gold band full of diamonds. A hunter’s crown, it was, and it was only proper, the others had said, for a high prince of the Noldor to take on the role of a hunter. 

I should not have agreed to this, he thought when he found himself yearning for the comfort of Tirion’s great library and the fragrance from its many tomes and stone tablets. I do not belong here. I should have remained in Tirion.  

He glanced at the others. His sister, Írissë, stayed close to the Great Huntsman and his lady, whispering. Oromë was in a high mood, as was Lady Vána. The Ever-Young was particularly taken with his sister, and on more than one occasion, she uttered something that made Írissë laugh.

“My sister is by herself,” he said, and he drained the last of his wine. “I must see to her.” 

When he tried to rise, Findaráto grabbed his arm by the wrist. “Leave your sister be.” 

“I must tend to her.” 

“Chicks and elflings need tending, cousin. Your sister, on the other hand, does not. Leave Írri be. You will only draw unwelcome attention to yourself and to me if you do not.” 

Turukáno scoffed softly, but he heeded his cousin all the same. He made himself comfortable in his seat and called for more wine. Someone laughed. It was thunderous and carefree at the same time. That laugh came from none other than Tyelkormo. Turukáno dared to look his way. His uncle Fëanáro’s sons were seated at the same table, though not all of them lingered after their plates and goblets were taken away. Nelyafinwë rose to speak with Findekáno, and Makalaurë took his leave of his brothers when Laurefindelë invited him to join him and his companions. Morifinwë kept to himself, brooding as always, and the twins teased each other over their choice of adornments. Then his gaze cut back to Tyelkormo. His cousin had been studying him with a shrewd leer while his brother, Curufinwë, whispered something in his ear.    

“Pray what happens now?” Turukáno—flustered—asked when Tyelkormo winked at him and looked away. 

“Now we must make our way to the gathering field,” Findaráto replied, rising with the others. Lady Vána arose from her place on the dais, to fetch the Valaróma for her lord husband. “It is time for the chase.” 

The chase was as rowdy as the feast, if not more so. Turukáno and Findaráto were hunters; the latter’s circlet of silver horns glinted amidst his golden hair. Findaráto took part because his curiosity would not let him be at peace. Turukáno took part because his kinsman and dear friend convinced him to, and he was not one to go back on his word after he had given it to someone he treasured. Oromë sounded the Valaróma once, and hunters silently chose their prey even as they raced into the forest. Moments passed, and the air around them thickened, feeding the anticipation that had been building since the feast began. 

“Hunters!” Oromë's cry boomed across the field, startling the nearby horses and compelling the great hounds he bred to stand to attention. “Are you ready? 

The roar that followed echoed through the gathering field. Then the Valaróma sounded a second time, and the hunters gave chase. Turukáno caught brief glimpses of many of those who ran alongside him. A few others he saw quite clearly. Varda’s handmaiden ran down a twisting path away from them, her robes a swirl of indigo wisps, her starlit skin and pink and molten silver hair shimmering in the starlight. He heard a sharp gasp, then a lusty laugh. He stopped for a moment to look. Ilmarë was ensnared by none other than the Elder King himself. She squirmed and giggled in his arms while he cooed barely heard words of endearment to her. His queen emerged from a thicket of trees, her dark hair falling around her like a waterfall full of little stars. They embraced each other. Turukáno turned to his cousin, dumbfounded.

“As long as there is no cleaving of the spirit, no ill-will ensues.” Findaráto grasped his hand and led him away. “Come. There is a clearing not far ahead.”

The clearing was full of flowers and new grass and large rocks thick with moss, and little else. No one could be seen. The others preferred the trees and forest floors covered with soft leaves over the open field. Turukáno made himself comfortable on a moss-covered stone and looked at the stars. His cousin sat by his side on the grass.

Turukáno said, “Do you remember the times we made our way to the highest balcony in grandfather’s palace?” 

Findaráto looked at him, smiling. “We would sneak into the kitchens first and fill a basket with little cakes and sweets. Then we made our way to that balcony and tried to name all the stars. The one who could name the most stars won the right to eat most of the cakes.” 

His cousin’s reply was interrupted by another who found them. “Well, well. What do I see before me?” 

The voice that called to them was thunderous and carefree at the same time. They rose to face their intruder, an elf that was well known to them. Tyelkormo stood by the edge of the clearing, garbed only in hunting leathers, with horns of bone and ivory adorning his silver-gold hair and ears and waist and wrists. He held a length of silvery rope weighed down at both ends with smooth, stone balls in his hand. He had another length of rope and a sheathed dagger at his belt. Findaráto swore his cousin looked very much like one of the Valar on the hunt—glorious, savage, and otherworldly at the same time. Then he chided himself for even thinking such a blasphemous thought. His cousin was but an elf, and nothing more than that.  

“So this is where the two of you fled to.” The third son of Fëanáro regarded them with a sly smile spreading its way across his countenance. “And to talk of stars on a festival day such as this, when so many delights await you beyond these trees! I confess, dear cousins, that I am quite disappointed.” 

“Tis not only you who is disappointed, brother mine.” Curufinwë emerged next, dragging a delicate silver net in his right hand. He too had a length of rope and a sheathed dagger at his belt. “We are here at a festival that frees us to be with whomever we desire, and these two prefer to gaze at the sky.” 

“Or perhaps, stargazing is not the reason why they are truly here.” Tyelkormo’s smile was a vicious thing. His shrewd, hunter’s gaze pinned his kinsmen to where they stood like they were nothing more than moths pinned to a board. “Perhaps they came to this place because they wished to do more than just admire the heavens.”

Findaráto understood his cousin’s insinuation well enough. “You assume incorrectly, Tyelko,” he sputtered, mortified. “There is nothing untoward between Turco and myself. We are friends and kinsmen, no more, no less.” 

“Nothing untoward, you say.” Curufinwë’s smile was as calculating and vicious as his brother’s, perhaps even more so. And yet, it did little to mar the finely-formed beauty he inherited from his father. “But, my dear Ingoldo, what else are we supposed to think when the two of you seek only each other for company and when one of you is always coming to the aid of the other, even when there are others more skilled at the task at hand?” 

Turukáno finally understood what his cousins were implying. “Ingoldo and I have never committed abominations of the flesh!” 

Tyelkormo turned to face him. “Truly?” He said. “Why do I struggle to believe it?”

“Peace, brother. Perhaps they speak the truth. Perhaps they have not violated taboos between kinsmen, and what we have observed thus far is wrong,” Curufinwë told him, his crafty eyes shining wickedly in the starlight. “Or perhaps, they do not see what we see.” 

“Perhaps we should help remove the scales from their eyes.” 

“Indeed, brother. Indeed.” 

Their cousins each took a step back, startled. “We have taken on the roles of hunters!” Findaráto cried protest. 

“There is no prohibition against a hunter chasing after another hunter,” Tyelkormo remarked with a casual air. 

“And we are bound by blood!” Cried Turukáno as he prepared himself to flee. His cousin could be as determined as a wolf chasing a hare when the urge to hunt was upon him. He had to be ready to turn on his heels and run as soon as Tyelkormo made a move to come near him.  

“That is of little consequence,” said Curufinwë, his knuckles white against his net. “And no one will ever know, so long as we do not talk to the others. Come, now, Turco. There is no need to be frightened. We merely wish to help; that is all.” 

“We will not consent!” Turukáno snapped at him. 

“Ah!” Cunning gray eyes shone again. “That is where you are mistaken, cousin,” he countered serenely. “You will consent.” 

Tyelkormo loosened his hold on the rope, preparing to throw it as soon as the opportunity to do so presented itself. “Remember what I taught you, brother.”

“I will, brother.” Curufinwë had eagerly listened to all that his brother had to say, for the chase was a first for him, as was the feast. “I will remember all that you told me.”

“Good.” His brother’s voice was as stern and commanding as the Vala he served when he said, “Run.” 

Turukáno took hold of Findaráto’s hand and pulled him along as they ran around the thick trunks of trees that crowded too close together, barely evading twisting, low-hanging branches and gnarled roots that protruded out of the earth. He dared to stop for a moment to look over his shoulder. Tyelkormo and Curufinwë had melted into the surrounding darkness, and nothing but darkened trees and a thin, swirling mist remained in their wake. 

“We must not tarry.” Findaráto tugged gently on his cousin’s arm, urging him forward. “We cannot linger here for too long. They will find us!” 

They ran again, and for how long, neither could say. They ran, and they ran, and they did not halt until they reached another clearing. There was no being to be seen. There was no being to be heard. They had gone further than they had ever gone in the forests of Oromë, and they had to stop. To keep running meant to lose their way, and that was something they could not do, not while rumors of a dark creature dwelling beyond the southern borders of the forests flourished. 

“Have we lost them?” Findaráto asked and stopped near the periphery of the clearing with his back to the trees. All around them stood graceful pines, mighty oaks, and giant sentinels, their leaves and branches rustling in the wind. 

“I do not know,” Turukáno said. He turned and studied the trees behind his cousin, and he saw nothing but dappled starlight flowing through the thick canopy. “There is no sight of them, at least. No sound. Perhaps we did lose—”  

He was interrupted when a whirl of silver flew toward him with such force that it knocked him to the ground. Turukáno could not move his arms. The rope had entangled itself around his torso He turned to his cousin for aid, but his cousin was also writhing against the forest floor in a vain attempt to free himself from the strange silver net that had enveloped him.

“Tyelko!” He called out in anger. “What is the meaning of this?”

Tyelkormo was the first to step out from among the trees; his brother followed him. Their boots fell against the forest floor with barely a sound made. 

“What do you think, cousin?” He helped Turukáno up to a seated position before going down to his haunches to bind his cousin’s legs at the ankles with the other length of rope that he had. “We are going to remove the scales from your eyes.”

Turukáno did not even deign to reply. He knew he could not fight his cousin and win. Tyelkormo may not have had his great stature, but he was as strong as him, and he was the better hunter by many a league. He stole a glimpse of his other cousin. Curufinwë bound Findaráto's hands and legs, and he brought him to where Turukáno sat, his back to an old pine tree. Turukáno could only watch while Tyelkormo rose, satisfied that they could not free themselves. His cousin moved to sit apart after that, regarding them the way he would a fine meal that was ready to be devoured. 

“They make such a pretty picture together.” Curufinwë dusted his hands and moved to sit cross-legged next to his brother, to better admire the sight of their captive kinsmen. 

“They do.” Tyelkormo rested his hand on the small of his brother’s back. Findaráto believed it was merely a protective gesture, and nothing more. “And they believe that there is nothing besides friendship between them. How shall we help them see, brother mine?” 

“With this,” said Curufinwë, before framing his brother’s face firmly in his hands, and pulling him in for a kiss. 

This is not the first time they have indulged in such acts. Turukáno watched, horrified, while Curufinwë and Tyelkormo embraced each other like experienced lovers, when Curufinwë allowed his brother to take liberties with him, when one let the other tangle his hands in his hair, and when one let the other move their hands to the clasp of a belt. He looked away—ashamed at not being able to dampen the arousal he felt growing between his thighs—then turned his attention to them once again when he heard a low moan.   

They look so beautiful together. Findaráto was as stunned as Turukáno by the deviancy of their cousins. Much like Turukáno, he could not look away for long. Tyelkormo and Curufinwë painted a striking image together, all silver and jet and slender, tapered hands moving in perfect rhythm with large, sculpted ones. Tyelkormo was all heat and wildness. Curufinwë was all cool restraint. He closed his eyes and tucked his head against Tyelkormo’s shoulder when he loosened the lacings of his breeches and took his erection to hand.  

“Yes. Like that,” he whispered, his hands clutching desperately at his brother’s broad back. “Ah, brother.” 

They kissed each other savagely, and then Curufinwë opened his eyes. They were dark and wanton, and they settled on his cousins. Turukáno had shame and lust warring with each other in his gaze. As for Findaráto, he had something akin to thirst in his. The firstborn son of Arafinwë turned to look at his cousin, his heart fluttering at the sight of his wide, beautiful eyes, his thick, dark hair, and his fine lips.  

Are Tyelko and Curvo correct? Findaráto pondered to himself. Is there something more than friendship between Turco and myself? Something neither of us has seen before?

At that moment, Turukáno turned to face him. Findaráto smiled bashfully. It made him look achingly beautiful. Turukáno flushed and looked away.  

No. He told himself. It cannot be true. They are wrong. There is nothing beyond friendship between us.  

He regarded his cousin again. Yearning stirred in his belly when he drank in the blue of Findaráto's eyes, the soft curve of his mouth, and the way his chest rose and fell with each breath he took. His head spun. Thoughts of rich, fair hair caught in a spill of bright starlight and a golden voice ringing out while caught in the throes of rapture took the place of all else. Turukáno was amazed; it was as if he was seeing his cousin in another light for the first time.  

Curufinwë smiled. We were right all along, he thought triumphantly. These two truly do share a bond that goes deeper than the bond shared by friends and kinsmen.    

They suspected it for many days now. Findaráto would always seek the opinion of his cousin, Turukáno. Turukáno would do the same in return. If one needed aid, the other would come to them. Hours would be lost when they wove their worlds of dreams together. Lovers in all but name and deed, Tyelkormo had once said, and Curufinwë remarked that perhaps such may indeed be the case. Their plan to expose their cousins' true feelings for each other was born after this, just in time for the Feast. 

“Brother,”Curufinwë groaned. Tyelkormo did something wicked to the tip of his shaft with his thumb. “Brother, I believe our kinsmen can be freed now.” 

Tyelkormo turned to look, albeit reluctantly. His treelit eyes lit up when his brother said something just loud enough for him to hear. 

“I believe you are right, brother,” he said, rising. His cousins braced themselves when he came to them, not knowing what he planned to do with them. Their fears were put to rest when he unsheathed his blade and cut the rope around Findaráto's wrists and ankles. Turukáno was next. Then he sat astride his lap and kissed him. 

Turukáno longed for nothing more than to resist him, to bite back and bloody Tyelkormo’s lips. It was no less than what he deserved, he thought. Then Tyelkormo sighed and kissed him harder. It threw the floodgates wide open, and drowned what little resistance Turukáno had.  He yielded to the wild and insistent demands of his body and returned his cousin’s kiss with equal fire, hoisting himself to his knees and taking his cousin into his arms when the warmth of his mouth continued to flow into his own. 

“Perfect,” Tyelkormo all but purred when he pulled away. He still kept himself firmly seated on his cousin’s lap, his arms draped around his shoulders. Then, he turned to Findaráto. “Join us, Ingoldo,” he said, and he gestured for his brother to join them. Curufinwë took the place he always did: by his brother’s side. “No one besides the four of us needs to know what took place this hour.” 

“Do I have your word on this?” Findaráto was tempted to say yes, but he had to consider the risk of discovery. If the others found out, the shame and disgrace that would surely follow should word of his sharing pleasures with his cousin spread—he and Turukáno would never be able to show their faces in Tirion again.

“You have my word as a son of Fëanáro, and a grandson of our king, Finwë.” Tyelkormo shuddered when his brother’s lips pressed against his shoulder and when his cousin tightened his hold around his waist. “Pray what is your answer?” 

Findaráto took a deep, steadying breath and gripped Turukáno’s chin, tilting it to the side so their lips could meet. 

[glorf1ndel]

The case for each ship:

Finarfin/ Eönwë: My GUYS. They make a great team during the War of Wrath. They're both incredible at staying away from drama, but when the fate of the world is at stake? Finarfin and Eönwë both show up, like superheroes ��� and they grow to rely on each other.

Turgon/ Finrod: Do you like the opposites attract trope? How about grumpy/ sunshine? What about "I've loved you all along, since before the darkening of the Two Trees, and now the light in my eyes shines only for you?" Do I have a ship for you.

Lúthien/ Thuringwethil: Listen. They're both slightly eldritch and not afraid to throw down. A match made in Valinor? Why NOT. Plus, Lúthien canonically uses Thuringwethil's cloak to sneak into Angband. What's that cloak made of? Girlfriend material.

Maglor/ Elemmírë: We don't know much about Maglor's spouse; why not assume they also shared a love for the arts? Elemmírë composed the poem lamenting the death of the Two Trees. Together, they could make beautiful music. *cue Careless Whisper*

Nienna/ Nerdanel: They are two women intimately acquainted with grief, but also with the beauty of life. In particular, Nienna knows that there is a fine line between sadness and joy. Perhaps she could help Nerdanel embrace both.

[arofili]

thank you to the amazing @drxconicsart for this stunning commission of Turgon/Finrod during their ~night at the river~ !!! It’s just beautiful, I love their passion and the background is simply breathtaking 😍😍😍

To see the full (NSFW!!) image, check it out on ao3 here! It’s attached as chapter 3 of an old fic of mine about these two :)

Full Image (explicit!)

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

how silm characters react to the fandom

Feanaro: gets way too involved way too quickly, has multiple troll accounts and blocks anyone who sa-si’s.

Nerdanel: can’t really use technology but thinks it’s kind of fun.

Maitimo: instant anxiety attack. Is morbidly fascinated by all the russingon smut. Thinks the Fingon content is sweet. Loves kidnap fam.

Maglor: follows nails-in-my-wall. Immediately starts shitposting about his family. Uncertain why half the fandom thinks he’s a crab.

Celegorm: Deleted his account when he realised Finrod got more rep than him. His new account only is on the low down.

Caranthir: embezzling fanartists somehow. No moral compass.

Curufin: found silvergifting, had a heart attack.

Nolofinwë: Anaire keeps complimenting all the art of him and he’s getting flustered.

Fingon: obsessively saves artwork of Maedhros. Ironically endorses the posts calling him a posh asshole.

Aredhel: gets so much closure from all the online support.

Turgon: disproportionately annoyed by one (1) person who said he was insensitive.

Finarfin: always brings up the youngsters on the internet who think he’s a good king.

Finrod: thinks he’s not famous enough. Works to remedy that.

Aegnor: wonders why everyone thinks he owns and frequently uses a hair straightener; cries over every artwork of him and Andreth.

Galadriel: no one knows and it’s frankly disturbing.

Elrond: periodically censors posts using him as a moral compass. Offers hugs to everyone who reblogged that one post.

[doodle-pops]

Can I ask for the elves' reaction to an S/O who has a size/creampie kink?

a/n: I went with the creampie/breeding kink 😗

Breeding – filling your pussy never felt so good. Watching how stuffed you were with their cum spewing from your cunt urged them to go for more rounds. They wanted you filled to the brim till you couldn’t take anymore. Driving in and out of you, watching the ring of cream formulation at the base of their cock creates a feral urge to fuck you till you’re round and swollen with their seed.

They didn’t care if you couldn’t take any more cum, they’d stop when they felt like it. “Ah — fuck, baby. Look at you, all stuffed with my cum. Don’t you look pretty?” You were just lying there taking their wild pounding. Incoherent babbling spilling from your lips, drunk off their cock. “Don’t worry, when I’m done, you’ll never have felt more filled.” They’d fuck you till your pussy started squelching as the obscene noise echoed around the room, as cum dripped from your hole while they fucked you.

FEANOR, MAEDHROS, CELEGORM, Caranthir, CURUFIN, CELEBRIMBOR, FINGOLFIN, TURGON, FINARFIN, Finrod, ANGROD, Aegnor, GLORFINDEL, GALDOR, ECTHELION, EGALMOTH BELEG, ROG, THINGOL, ELROND, Elrohir, ELLADAN, GIL GALAD

[carmisse]

Fëanáro and his sons-(and daughter) in-law.

X : Rank your children's spouses or partners from one to ten.

Fëanor : ...

Fëanor : I've been waiting for this moment since Maitamo was in diapers!

Fëanor : Findekáno is an eight. He was the first one and I really came to see the fact that he and Maitamo would get married when they had the chance. He is quite nice though because of him I have to see Ñolofinwë's face on weekends at the family dinner. Other than that, it's stranger not to see him at home, I got used to having him there, he's good company.

Fëanor : the first time I met Makalaurë's wife she punched me in the jaw. She is sassy and not afraid to express her displeasure with anyone plus Dae is really very talented, she is also the only person who can manage to shut Káno up, she sings too well, a ten, she is my favorite.

Fëanor : Tyelko was always a free fëa, that's why I didn't expect him to settle down, not even with Irissë and even less with Oromë. That's why Dior was a strange surprise, I don't really know the history of those two and I haven't dealt much with him, he's usually serious, and I don't blame him for that. A seven.

Fëanor : Turukáno reminds me too much of Ñolofinwë; he openly hates me and I respect him for that; but he also makes Moryo smile more often than usual, his mood changes when he's around his husband. Besides they have been together for too long, they never told anyone but Aracáno and I suspected it. He is an eight.

Fëanor : I'm not sure if Findaráto counts, he and Curufinwë have been divorced for a long time, however they also kiss a closet when they think no one sees them. He and Curufin made me grandfather, although at the time there was yelling and a couple of broken things, he took responsibility, and like Findekáno his company is pleasant. He's a solid nine, plus Arafinwë is easier to stand than Ñolo.

Fëanor : Pityo has no husband, wife or partner; unless it's secret, I can't score this time.

Fëanor : Telvo on the other hand, well. He leaves Arakáno, the son, I mean. I must say that the two of them are really adorable, if somewhat disastrous, you don't want to know what an argument between them is. Frankly they are the healthiest relationship I've seen in a long time. Arakáno are a nine.

Plus : Telperinquar's husband.

Fëanor : Annatar is an annoying little shit, I am offended that you think I accept him, if it were not for Tyelpe I would throw him into the void with his ex-husband.

Notes :

Daeron is trans, she is an elleth. When he and Maglor met, the son of Fëanor fell in love with her, he proposed to her a few days after they met for the first time. A hundred years pass before she accepts him, they marry with only trees as a witness, they drifted apart after Doriath.

She was upset for a long time, with her husband and her brothers-in-law.

They meet in Imladris, Elrond is the one who brings them together (he locks them in a room until they talk) Maglor apologizes and she accepts them even though she knows it will take time to heal. Finally, they sail to Valinor accompanying Elladan and Elrohir. Regarding her name, he doesn't really mind Daeron. But her family in-laws call her Dae, Maglor nicknamed her that when he met her, this with her permission.

Amrod has no interest in anyone, he is very tired of everyone.

[felagund-the-valiant]

Masterlist

Argon

Big Hands and Tiny Paws - 578 words - tags: fluff

Beleg

In All Shapes and Sizes - 612 words - tags: fluff

Caranthir

SFW Alphabet

Curufin

Your Father's Son - 1.3k words - tags: Curufin has a bit of an identity crisis, fluff Broken Bonds - 1.4k words - tags: hurt/no comfort

Fingon

All I Want Is You - 1.1k words - tags: best friends to lovers, first kiss Office Shenanigans (NSFW) - 1.5k words - tags: smut, semi-public sex A Heavy Crown - 992 words - tags: hurt/comfort, mention of canon character death SFW Alphabet

Finrod

Birthday Delights - 712 words - tags: fluff, mild nsfw mentions/suggestive content Bring Back What Once Was Mine - 1k words - tags: mix of fluff and angst, mention of canon character death

Galdor

General hcs Procrastination Troubles - 1.1k words - tags: fluff, unintentional secret dating, sibling's best friend trope

Glorfindel

Having a crush on a reader who's friends with Ecthelion

Group hcs

Hobbies they like to share with you (Maedhros, Caranthir, Fingon, Turgon) Hair hcs for the House of Fëanor | Fingolfin | Finarfin

[annoyinglandmagazine]

The Great Finwean House party

‘Nolofinwe’s on the way home!!! The dinner at grandads just finished the lights are off at the banquet hall!’ Aegnor’s yell over the noise in the house made Turgon freeze from where he was fetching another bottle of wine. ‘Oh fuck,’ and they set into motion trying to sort out this situation before they all got disowned. The first thing to catch his attention was the presence of several wild animals including a fucking stag so Turgon went looking for Tyelko and his darling little sister. They were trying to wrestle a moose, because of course they were and Tyelko was wearing disturbingly little clothing, though that may be down to the game of strip poker he recalls Glorfindel initiating earlier. It could also be down to the fact that Tyelko is always naked by the end of these things whether there’s an explanation or not. This may take a while. Aegnor also decided to go looking for his sister first, he had been thinking about getting Finrod, but decided he’d prefer not to be scarred for life. Artanis seemed to be in the process of fighting Argon and Curufin at once, seemingly over a game of cards. She was winning. He tried to pull her back but was met with a knee in certain reproductive organs. It was kind of on him, Artanis was always an aggressive drunk and he was fairly certain everyone had had a minimum of three bottles by now.

He decided to take a tactical retreat, and went to find Nelyo instead. He was the responsible one, he’d be able to take charge. Anyway he was the only one with any sort of success record in dealing with the rest of the Feanorians. He should have been expecting it. Rule number 1 of Finwean house parties (aside from the obvious don’t tell anyones parents rules) was that you should leave Maedhros alone during the course of the event. And preferably until the next morning just in case. This was the only rule the Feanorians all followed at all times and for good reason. He walked into the room he’d seen Nelyo disappear into just after ‘knife throwing for heavy drinkers’ and immediately wanted to bleach his eyes out. Findekano and Maedhros both seemed pretty preoccupied and didn’t even seem to see him come him. He decided to just yell ‘Nolofinwe’s coming’ from the hallway. It had the desired effect and they came scrambling out moments later trying to drunkenly find all the clasps on their clothing. Maedhros went bright red when he saw Aegnor in the doorway and opened his mouth to explain but Aegnor cut him off, simply saying ‘just lock the damn door next time.’ The venture turned out not to have been a complete disaster because Maedhros did end up taking charge. He seemed to flip a switch and when he raised his voice the entire house stopped what they were doing. ‘Ok everyone you know the drill! Nolofinwe’s getting back here soon and if any of our parents find out even a fraction of what we were doing tonight they will never trust any of us alone again!’ he was impressively authoritative for someone who had very obviously just been getting a blowjob less than five minutes ago.‘Tyelko, Irisse, I swear to the Valar if you haven’t got all the animals out of the house in ten minutes….,’ Tyelko groaned ‘on it, on it.’ ‘Good, Artanis, let go of Curvo and help him wipe the blood off the table,’ Artanis gave him a glare and for a second Aegnor thought she might refuse, she was the only one that would ever dream of disobeying the eldest, but eventually she seemed to decide it wasn’t worth her while. ‘Moryo, put down the knife, I know Angrod’s a brat but there’s enough blood from the drinking games already, help me out here,’ Caranthir relented with one last threat to his cousin before moving to help clean up.

‘Maglor, please stop singing, they’ll be able to tell you’re here from a mile away, and Finrod!’ he yelled up the stairs now, ‘put your clothes back on!’ ‘How do you know what I’m doing?’ was the reply. ‘Well are you or the approximately two people in the room with you wearing clothes? No? Thought not. Get sorted the fuck out. Same goes for you Glorfindel! And Ecthelion I guess.’ and then with a look of horror Maedhros looked around frantically ‘No one invited the Ambarussa right?’ ‘No, of course not, we must preserve the innocents, what you think we’re fucking mental,’ was the general consensus. Maedhros breathed a sigh of relief ‘Alright everyone let’s get to work!’

With that they all scampered about, defying all logic and cleaning faster than they would have were they even remotely sober. These things were a base instinct at this point though, and there was no trace of any of it in half an hour. ‘Scatter!’ was the final yell from Tyelko, and they seemed to melt into the walls slipping out windows and back doors with one final word of ‘same time next month?’

[swanhild]

Laurëndil

Last minute entry for @silmsmutweek To go with the prompts threesomes and moresomes, humor/crack, rare pairs, canon ships, established relationships, voyeurism and tender sex. (Also an early entry for @nolofinweanweek because this one is all about Turgon, really. And I might be stranded without access to the Internet for a for a couple of days in November, so.)

Summary: Turgon spends a bit of quality time with two of his favourite people and tries something new. (A story about Turgon's life in Valinor post-reembodiment. That ends in a threesome.)

Characters: Turgon, Finrod, Elenwë Relationships: Finrod/Turgon, Turgon/Elenwë, Finrod/Turgon/Elenwë Words: 7k Rating: Explicit Genre: Smut, Humor, Angst (only at the beginning)

Read on AO3

Excerpt:

Turgon groaned in embarrassment and covered his face with one arm. “Having both of you involved in this was a mistake,” he grumbled and Finrod could see that the was blushing even harder than before. Finrod patted his hip. “Don't lie, Turno. You love having both of us in your bed at the same time.” "It's your bed, not mine," Turgon muttered, but didn't argue the point otherwise.

[last-capy-hupping]

So, this is my first year participating in TRSB, and it’s been an amazing experience working with my artist Torpi, who inspired me to go outside of my comfort zones and explore some rare pairings, including a main pair so rare that I had to make a new tag for them.

Her lovely art is featured in the first chapter of this fic:

You’ll be able to read the accompanying fic (all 22k+) in under twelve hours following the link below.

Summary to tempt you all:

During the Year of the Trees 1359, Aikanáro, third son of Arafinwë, third son of Finwë, High King of the Ñoldor, and Ëarwen, daughter of Olwë, High King of the Teleri in Aman, prepares to welcome his father’s half brother, Fëanáro, his pregnant wife who is craving sea air and seafood, and their four sons. His only goal is to prevent his eldest brother Ingoldo from embarrassing himself trying to impress their eldest Fëanárion cousin. He soon find that Nelyafinwë is not the Fëanárion about whom he should worry most.

Meanwhile, Tyelkormo is simply excited to explore new territory, learn about new wildlife, and find fresh ways to hunt. Alas for him, he almost immediately starts a minor family feud on his first night in Alqualondë. And that’s just the start of his problems.

For TRSB Slide #5.

[polutrope]

Have you done Turgon/Elenwe/Finrod and or Idril/Tuor/Voronwe yet? My favourite polyships 🥺

I have not done ANY polyships, let's goooo!

Turgon/Elenwe/Finrod

Amazing. I think the dynamics for this would be especially interesting. I can't not imagine Amarië as part of it in Aman, so with the OT3 it's angsty comfort times on the Helcaraxë. Turgon and Finrod more QPR, but occasionally they will bang just the two of them (and continue to after Elenwë dies 😢). Elenwë and Turgon very much in love, soulmates, but the sex is elevated by the presence of Finrod (obviously). Elenwë and Finrod have gone at it just the two of them a few times, but even with their undeniable sex appeal there's a je-ne-sais-quoi that Turgon brings that they just can't find without him. They are both more magnetically attracted to him than to each other, so that's part of it. Turgon doesn't know how sexy he is and that gets them going.

All three of them have some excellent, intellectually stimulating conversation, as well. All very emotionally open and supportive.

Idril/Tuor/Voronwe

THIS is the Gondolin OT3 that I will sail into the sunset. Which literally happens (in that one note in HoMe but that's good enough for me). Even the least tinted shipping goggles will reveal the Tuor/Voronwe vibes in Of Tuor. "And there was only one cloak." They definitely developed a thing on the route to Gondolin, to the surprise and delight and comfort of them both. Idril and Voronwe were friends before, and when he comes back there's a mutual shift in their feelings towards each other, and Idril is also like, "wow, hot guy you brought back." So hey presto, no brainer. Then she falls in love with him, hard and fast and facilitated by Fate. Voronwë was definitely an amazing bonus dad to Earendil.

[silmsmutweek]

For Day 5, I updated my badwrong non-con fic.

Summary: Maedhros is corrupted in Angband. As a consequence, Fingon and by extension his siblings and Arafinwion cousins are having the worst time of their lives.

Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Morgoth, Turgon, Finrod, Aegnor, Angrod, Aredhel.

Pairings: Fingon/Maedhros (main), Fingon/Turgon, Morgoth/Turgon, Fingon/Finrod, Aegnor/Angrod/Finrod (secondary)

Warnings: Non-con, forced incest, humiliation, abuse (more in the tags)

Word count: 10674

Link to the fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/silmkinkmeme/works/45986536

Thanks, Anon!

[straybreeze]

Silm characters as Tarot cards

Okay so I've been thinking on this lately. Maybe it's not completely correct, but I think most of them still fits (also I was very tempted to give Maedhros the Hanged Man card fdkglfkdk).

Also I wanted to exlcude all the valar and maiar and put only the children of Ilúvatar into this list. There is one extra, who is not exactly a Silm character, but oh well.

Also I'm open to any other ideas too!

I. The Magician: Fëanor II. The High Priestess: Aredhel III. The Empress: Galadriel IV. The Emperor: Thingol V. The Hierophant: Elrond VI. The Lovers: Beren and Lúthien VII. The Chariot: Fingon VIII. Strength: Fingolfin IX. The Hermit: Maglor X. The Wheel of Fortune: Tuor XI. Justice: Húrin XII. The Hanged Man: Finrod XIII. Death: Míriel XIV. Temperance: Finarfin XV. The Devil: Eöl XVI. The Tower: Turgon XVII. The Star: Eärendil XVIII. The Moon: Maeglin XIX. The Sun: Finwë XX. Judgement: Maedhros XXI. The World: Aragorn 0. The Fool: Túrin Turambar

[hurricanek8art]

I have been brought out of lurk mode by the Rings of Power finale on behalf of my brother, resident Tolkien fanatic, because he thinks he's figured out who Adar might be.

Maeglin.

And before you say "but Kate, he died at Gondolin", keep in mind that RoP is playing around with some of the timeline and hear us out. Spoilers for the Rings of Power S2 finale, I guess? The Silmarillion, and a big ol' wall of text under the cut. I don't call my personal tags "K8 Rambles about [X]" for nothing.

Per the Tolkien Gateway wiki, because I like citations with my fandom conspiracy theories; bolded parts are most relevent:

"Maeglin defied Turgon's order to stay within the mountains, and was captured by Orcs and brought to Angbad. Morgoth promised both Gondolin and Idril in return for the location of the hidden city, thus luring Maeglin into the greatest treachery done in the Elder Days.

Maeglin returned to Gondolin saying nothing about his encounter, but many people noticed a change. Most thought it was for the better, though Idril suspected something and began work on Idril's secret way. When the Fall of Gondolin took place, Maeglin laid hands on Idril and on her son Eärendil. But Tuor caught up with him and they fought upon the walls of the city. Maeglin lost and he was thrown down to his death, striking the mountain three times before falling into the flames."

His father Eöl left Thingol's kingdom after Melian raised enchanted fences around the forest of Doriath, so Maeglin would've grown up at least knowing of Melian. He would have learned Fëanorian Quenya in Gondolin as the king's nephew, as well as studied the teachings of Rúmil. Further, Eöl was an expert smith who was one of the only people who knew how to work with galvorn, a jet-black metal—the only other person who knew how to work with it was Maeglin. We've never seen Adar wear anything but pitch-black armor with a rather unique-looking texture.

So, we have a dark-haired Elf with obsessive tendencies that turned on his people on behalf of Morgoth, covered in what looks like burn scars along with the Uruk-ing, wearing fancy, unique black armor. That big ol' gauntlet he's always wearing could easily be explained as protecting a hand that got messed up in the fall, that namedrops Melian and Rúmil. Turgon and Finrod knew each other before they split and Turgon founded Gondolin, so Turgon could potentially have learned Galadriel's Quenya name and mentioned it in passing to Maeglin, and it would be another explanation for how he recognized Elrond right off the bat, since he was related to Elrond's father, grandparents and great-grandfather. It's not impossible to believe that in this version of the tale, Maeglin somehow survives the fall, returns to Morgoth and Sauron, and gets Uruk-ified. And, I mean, Nenya was shown healing fatal wounds and cleansing Adar's Uruk corruption, it's even less of a stretch to think that Nenya somehow healed him of being... well, an obsessive, vindictive and incestuous jerk. Or at least made himself really look inwards and see the evil within.

Again, I'm more of a cinematic Tolkien nerd than literary (I've tried a bunch of times and succeeded in reading The Hobbit, but my brain just... fritzes out at Tolkien prose for some reason. I need cliff notes Tolkien 😭😭😭😭😭), so if you have any questions or points to discuss I'm probably just gonna end up relaying what my brother says. He refuses to join Tumblr and only likes social media for the fanart and the silly pet videos. I feel like a court scribe. 🤣

[doodle-pops]

This might sound similar to a headcanon of mine. How would the elves react to a former ranger reader who Sauron ensnared into his service? Reader is a talented swordsman and a fierce opponent, but despite being in Sauron’s control, they still hold on to honor and never fight unfairly. They kick the weapon back to their opponent and never harm defenseless people. They wander in the shadows but sometimes help missing children back to their homes when Sauron does not call upon them. They even still hold some love for animals and could be found humming songs and comforting wounded animals. How would the elves feel and who would most likely try to save reader from Sauron's control?

a/n: This is extremely similar to one of the OCs I have in making, but the honourable part of them comes after they were released and they're an assassin. Are you stalking me 👀? This should be easy for me to answer

When they learn about your background and the world of horror that became most of your life, they would be quick to offer you comfort. Knowing the pain and suffering you still experienced since you were under the call of Sauron would make them compassionate but cautious, not knowing when you can strike under his command. They would want to show you the beauty of the world and the comforts of having friends to ease your loneliness. Long hours till the break of dawn conversing about the world and building a great friendship. They are a great hope in their heart for you to break free and would even go as far as to aid you with your freedom. "You don't deserve this life and I want to help you break free from those chains. You're a good person deep down."

MAEDHROS, Maglor, Celebrimbor, Fingolfin, FINGON, Finarfin, FINROD, GLORFINDEL, Galdor, ROG, ELROND, Elrohir, Elladan, BELEG

They also sympathise with you but find it harder to make friends with you given your subservient behaviour to Sauron even though you can't control it. Keeping their distance but still making small talk with you, there are times they would attempt to fish for information about Sauron. It would take a great deal of trust before they ever decide you and them can be friends or just close. Though, there is a small part of them that's impressed by your kind nature despite your actions when under Sauron. "I know what you do isn't by your will, but outside of that, you're a decent person."

CARANTHIR, TURGON, Gil Galad

[aotearoa20]

FanFic Rec Moodboard Masterlist

Bookmark Fic Recs art for fics I found in my bookmark lists and I loved

Eldritch Maglor (Maglor & Lindir)

On the ephemeral beauty of mortals (Caranthir & Angrod)

The Kingmaker (Maedhros & Curufin)

And in doing so, you will fail (Maglor & Glaurung)

And she danced on feet of silver (Maedhros & Idril)

lakesong (Maglor & Maedhros)

The One (Maedhros & Eru)

I promise you I'm not broken (I promise you there's more) (Maeglin & Celebrimbor)

All That's Best of Dark and Bright (Elu Thingol/Melian)

in the ranks of death you will find him (Turgon & Finrod )

Heart and Head (Nimloth & Celegorm)

Louder than Words (Celebrimbor & Sauron)

Presentation Practise (Feanor/Nerdanel & Maedhros)

ao3 links and tags are on the linked posts but lmk if you rather they were here to. Definitely check them out, they are all really good!

Avengers x Silm. these ones are all inspired by the same marvel crossover fic by @the-elusive-soleil, again definitely recommend!

Maedhros (Captain America)

Ambarussa (Hawkeye & Black Widow)

Celegorm (Hulk)

Curufin (Iron Man)

Caranthir (Loki)

Maglor (Darcy Lewis)