#what in the sweet eru

[catz4ever]

EVERYONE SHUT UP!

SAM JUST POSTED THIS ON HIS INSTA STORY.

ALL HE SAID WAS "GO WATCH EPISODE FOUR NOW STREAMING"

SIR! SIRRRR! I ALREADY DID! WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS?! WHERE WAS THIS POINT OF VIEW DURING ADAR'S ENTRANCE?!!!! ARE WE GETTING MORE OF THIS ENCOUNTER IN EPISODE FIVE?!?!

HELLLLLLP!

I. AM. UNWELL.

@baddybaddyadardaddy @orehuna @theamethystvampiress @bigblissandlove1 @eowyn7023 @magpiehistoryandart @toddthekiwibird @clumsycopy

[meldelen]

The thought of Sauron having to dwell surrounded by ugly as fuck Uruk, in a devastated land of ashes, fire and scorched earth, creepy ringwraiths and stenching gases, filthy rags and dark twilights on a forever clouded sky amidst chaos and corruption and disorder, while what he really desires are pretty things, good jewelry, neat and clean garments and feast his eyes in Elven beauty, to rule and be loved and revered rather than feared and hated, to bring forth beauty and order and peace in a world of light.

I almost feel sorry for him. Then I remember it's all his goddamn fault and it passes.

[catz4ever]

SAM HAZELDINE IS A GIFT TO THIS WORLD AND NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS FOR GIFTING US WITH THIS MORSEL.

I. LOVE. HIM.

NEW ANGLE OF THEEEE MOMENT !!! WE WON! THANK YOU SAM

[glykerniaz]

Warm The Bed

ᅠᅠᅠ𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ sub!fingolfin x top!reader ⋆.˚ ⠀ㅤ𓄼

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ✎ᝰ. ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 

ᅠᅠᅠ ( synopsis. ) You are a Maiar of Ulmo, Your his lover, and you've loved him for a long time, even after the troubles he had with his older brother. For a long while, after his exile, he couldn't even bear to face you. Yet, as he crossed Helcaraxë, he found himself longing for you, softly pleading with you to come to him, to soothe his heart tonight.

( tags. ) top!reader , bottom!fingolfin , sub!fingolfin , maiar!reader , smut ,semi-public sex , one-shot , anal-sex , ejaculate.

( a/n. ) Your dessert is here, my friend! Hope it’s as spicy (I mean sweet) as you wanted! @liar-anubiass-blog ᅠᅠᅠ

You are his lover, the river that helps carry away his pain, and the one he fears facing most after what he's done—following his half-brother’s decision. ᅠᅠᅠ He's terrified of the disappointment in your eyes. ᅠᅠᅠ Yet, you reassure him once more with the warmth of your presence in this uncomfortable bed. ᅠᅠᅠ You give him the peace to sleep soundly for the first time in years.

ᅠᅠᅠ

ᅠᅠᅠ

The snow-capped mountains have collapsed again, and the glaciers have cracked once more. Every day, he must face these trials, even as he prays to the gods, to the Valar. ᅠᅠᅠ

But his pleas have never been answered. Not even by you. It is as if the Valar have abandoned them, indifferent and uncaring. ᅠᅠᅠ

In truth, he doesn't even dare to pray to you. ᅠᅠᅠ

He fears that you might reject his pleas. ᅠᅠᅠ

Afraid that when he looks into your eyes, hears your voice, it will be filled with guilt and coldness. ᅠᅠᅠ

If that were the case, it would break his heart even more than being alive but dead inside. ᅠᅠᅠ

The streams running beneath the cold glaciers remind him of every word he speaks, making him hate himself even more. He knows how much he misses you, how the cold that does nothing to his body seeps into his mind. ᅠᅠᅠ

It penetrates to his very soul, which cries out for your name through the bond we share amidst all this suffering. ᅠᅠᅠ

You are Maiar, a servant of Ulmo, and he is Fingolfin, the exiled prince of the Noldor. ᅠᅠᅠ

His eyes are weary, yet he must endure to lead his Noldorin followers to survive the deadly cold of Helcaraxë. ᅠᅠᅠ

The screams and laments of those he leads make it harder for him to sleep, though sleep is not even necessary. ᅠᅠᅠ

Eru, he prays with his life, no matter how much you despise him—he just wants you to be here, to hold him, to whisper that everything will be alright. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Please... I need you, Y/N" ᅠᅠᅠ

ᅠᅠᅠ

Your lord, Ulmo, is assigning a task to you. He is aware of your relationship with that Noldorin prince. ᅠᅠᅠ

You are a loyal and faithful servant, and Ulmo understands this well. Therefore, he has granted you the power over the waters beneath the icy waters of Helcaraxë, to help quell the fury of Ossë's rage. ᅠᅠᅠ

You watch over and assist the drowning Noldorin elves time and again, saving them from loss. Yet sometimes, even the anger of the waters is beyond control. ᅠᅠᅠ

You immediately think of Fingolfin when you hear the mournful cries of the elves. In the end, due to the difficulty of your duties, you inadvertently closed off your fea (spirit). ᅠᅠᅠ

But tonight is different. Tonight, you hear a faint but deeply painful sob through your connection with him. ᅠᅠᅠ

"My Nolofinwë," you whisper softly, and decide to seek him out. ᅠᅠᅠ ᅠᅠᅠ

ᅠᅠᅠ

Inside the brightly lit tent, Fingolfin sat frozen in shock as he saw your familiar figure slowly approach him. ᅠᅠᅠ

His legs, unsteady with longing, rushed to embrace you tightly, inhaling the warmth of your scent, as if it were sunlight in the summer. ᅠᅠᅠ

His face buried in your chest, his arms wrapped around you in a desperate embrace, as if afraid this moment might be a dream. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Eru, tell me this isn't a dream." ᅠᅠᅠ

His body held onto you with no regard for appearances, even though you were alone in the tent, with only the soft glow of a torch to warm the empty, wounded heart within him. ᅠᅠᅠ

"I'm here, my love. I’m here now." ᅠᅠᅠ

You cupped his face in your hands before gently pressing a kiss to his forehead, your silver eyes gazing at him with affection. ᅠᅠᅠ

"I called for you—but you didn't answer... I thought you were disappointed in me, angry with me—" ᅠᅠᅠ

Your expression softened, and you carefully lifted the Noldorin prince into your arms, cradling him as you would a fragile maiden, treating him with the tenderness he so desperately needed. ᅠᅠᅠ

"It was my carelessness that blocked my spirit, preventing me from hearing your prayers." ᅠᅠᅠ

You pressed your forehead against his in a loving gesture, then kissed the crown of his head once more. ᅠᅠᅠ

"You don’t hate me, truly—do you?" ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin gazed at you with pleading eyes, searching for comfort and sincerity in your response. ᅠᅠᅠ

"I have never hated you, my love." ᅠᅠᅠ

Just those few words from you brought him a sense of relief, as if a mountain had been lifted from his aching chest. ᅠᅠᅠ

You gently laid him down on the bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as a cold breeze swept through the tent's curtains. ᅠᅠᅠ

He clung to you, unwilling to let go, looking at you with eyes full of longing. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Don’t go..." ᅠᅠᅠ

You can’t refuse him, not when you loved him so deeply and were willing to give him everything. ᅠᅠᅠ

He pulled you down beside him, his back easily sinking into the soft fabric beneath him. ᅠᅠᅠ

Could you really turn him away? ᅠᅠᅠ

"It’s so cold here. Come, warm my bed..." ᅠᅠᅠ

"Please..." ᅠᅠᅠ

There was no way you could ever refuse him. ᅠᅠᅠ

ᅠᅠᅠ

The flame in the torch flickered with the force of the snowstorm outside the tent, yet it did not extinguish our insatiable desire. ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin's face flushed with heat, and his cheeks turned a charming shade of rosy red. ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

His hair spread out on the bed amidst a pile of clothes on the portable bed, lacking the comfort of a palace. His white neck was adorned with red spots, like a brand. ᅠᅠᅠ

You sit between the legs of the holy prince, eagerly and passionately kissing to dispel the severe cold of Helcaraxë. ᅠᅠᅠ

Who would have thought he could be so beautiful even when exiled far from the elven paradise? ᅠᅠᅠ

"Don't—don't look…" ᅠᅠᅠ

His hips tightened when they were thrust and penetrated by the giant cock of Maiarr, who became one with him to alleviate his psychological trauma. ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin struggled hard to suppress his hoarse, lustful moans as he was repeatedly thrust—again and again. ᅠᅠᅠ

His lower body was completely numb, yet he unconsciously lifted his hips to absorb your impact, as if his body was betraying him to satisfy his desires. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Hng-Hnggg! Ah!" ᅠᅠᅠ

"T-That's too much-!" ᅠᅠᅠ

"Just a little more, Nolofinwë," You murmured while nibbling the tip of his pointed ear. ᅠᅠᅠ

His cock twitched against his abs in rippling muscles when you did that. He almost came with every thrust of yours. It made him feel so good—so good that he couldn't stop. ᅠᅠᅠ

His hands clawed and crumpled the poor bedspread until it was almost torn. Your back was covered with his scratches, seeking an outlet for this ecstatic feeling. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Ah-ah! Ah! Ah!" ᅠᅠᅠ

M-More! ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin moaned. He no longer cared whether any elf with keen ears and curiosity passed by, for the happiness and warmth you gave him made this cold bed more inviting to lie down on than ever before. ᅠᅠᅠ

Every time his lips tenderly kissed and savored, drawing the breath from his lungs, it felt as if it stopped the functioning of his brain. ᅠᅠᅠ

The dizzying feeling made his legs weak, not unlike a first-time bride who just spent her wedding night. ᅠᅠᅠ

The scent of sweat and our moans intertwine. Your nose nuzzles, inhaling his sweat. The muscles in your legs tense and twitch, soft and limp in your hands. ᅠᅠᅠ

You are so strong, powerful—and magnificent—that he felt a knot in his lower stomach as if he were pinned down by hot nails, unable to move anywhere. ᅠᅠᅠ

It didn't take long for your expertise to make his cock twitch and release a pearly liquid that splattered across his chest and stomach. ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin arched his hips up, his back lifting off the bed. His mouth opened, letting out a moan, and he yanked your collar down, pressing a passionate kiss that made a slurping sound with our tongues entwined. ᅠᅠᅠ

His eyes widened as he regained consciousness and felt the warmth within him—your big cock was still hard and throbbing inside him, the sound caught between his legs. ᅠᅠᅠ

Huh? ᅠᅠᅠ

"Are you joking me…? W-Why are you still hard…" ᅠᅠᅠ

so warm- he's think. ᅠᅠᅠ

His lungs felt like they were burning, but he held his breath until he could speak. However, what he received from his curiosity was just the corner of your mouth smiling. ᅠᅠᅠ

Your battle-hardened palm gripped his pale thigh, pulling it apart even more. "I'm not done yet, my beloved. It's so cold tonight. How about I warm your bed instead?" ᅠᅠᅠ

Eru… ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin's face turned red, his lips bit down before being helped by that insatiable Maiar to warm the bed once more.

ᅠᅠᅠ

dividers ➵ @chachachannah @anitalenia @cafekitsune

[taatianaad]

Love

It was a quiet night in New York, the kind of night when the city lights shone like stars, and the hustle and bustle faded into a distant murmur. Alex Cabot and Casey Novak walked together through the streets, their pace slow and relaxed, enjoying each other's company. They had known each other for years, having worked together on some of the toughest cases in the prosecutor’s office, but over time, their relationship had evolved beyond the professional.

For both of them, these new feelings were exciting but also a little terrifying. Neither of them was used to the vulnerability that love entailed, much less showing it. However, that night, there was something different in the air, something palpable and full of promises.

They had spent the evening dining at a small Italian restaurant in the East Village. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter, memories, and shy confessions. Casey, always the more open and humorous one, had managed to draw several smiles from Alex, who was known for her more reserved and serious demeanor. But in that moment, with Casey, Alex felt free, almost weightless.

Upon leaving the restaurant, they decided to walk instead of taking a cab, enjoying the warm weather of the night. Casey led the conversation as always, while Alex listened, fascinated by how easily Casey could make everything seem lighter, more fun.

However, as they walked, Alex began to notice something growing inside her, a kind of sweet tension, a desire to do something she had been suppressing for weeks. She felt the need to be closer to Casey, to cross that invisible line she had maintained until now. As they reached a small park, one of those tranquil corners of the city that felt removed from the rest of the world, Alex suddenly stopped, causing Casey to turn and look at her with curiosity.

“Is everything okay?” Casey asked, arching an eyebrow, her tone casual but with a spark of concern in her eyes.

Alex took a deep breath, feeling her heart race. The adrenaline coursed through her veins as she took the next step. Without saying a word, she closed the distance between them, and before Casey could react, Alex leaned in and kissed her.

The contact was soft at first, almost shy, as if Alex was waiting to ensure that this was okay. But as soon as she felt Casey respond, something inside her released. The kiss deepened, grew more confident. Alex’s hands moved to hold Casey’s neck, while Casey, surprised at first, soon surrendered to the moment, wrapping her arms around Alex’s waist and pulling her even closer.

The world around them disappeared. There was no traffic, no lights, no noise, only the two of them, caught in that moment that seemed eternal.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathing somewhat heavily, and Casey, still holding Alex by the waist, looked into her eyes with a mix of surprise and delight. “What was that?” she asked, but her smile suggested she already knew the answer.

Alex, still a little dazed by what she had just done, laughed softly. “Something I��ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Casey smiled, a smile that lit up her entire face. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve been waiting for it to happen too.”

They stood there for a moment, looking at each other in silence, letting the weight of what had just happened settle between them. Finally, it was Casey who broke the silence.

“How about we go to your apartment?” she suggested, her tone light but with a clear implication in her gaze.

Alex didn’t need more than that. She nodded, her hand taking Casey’s, and they began to walk toward Alex’s apartment, this time a little faster, as if they both knew what was about to happen and couldn’t wait any longer.

Once inside Alex’s apartment, they barely managed to close the door before their lips met again, this time with more urgency. Alex gently pulled Casey toward her bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind them as they moved. The desire they had both been suppressing for so long had finally erupted, and neither had any intention of stopping.

The night became a whirlwind of passionate kisses, soft touches, and whispers interspersed with laughter. The sheets tangled around their bodies as they moved in a rhythm that only the deep connection they shared could explain. Every touch, every kiss seemed to ignite an even more intense fire in both of them.

Hours later, after they had quenched that initial passion, Alex and Casey lay under the sheets, their breathing still irregular but unable to stop laughing softly, sharing an intimacy that went beyond the physical. They were exhausted but happy, with a sense of peace and satisfaction that few ever experience.

Casey, with her head resting on Alex’s chest, enjoyed the rhythmic sound of her breathing. The warmth of her body was comforting, and while resting there, Casey felt an emotion she hadn’t expected to come so quickly.

She shifted slightly, lifting her head to look into Alex’s eyes. “I love you,” she said, without hesitation. It was a simple declaration, but one loaded with meaning.

Alex fell silent for a moment, surprised. Her heart began to race, as if those two words had ignited a spark inside her. The rapid rhythm of her heartbeat was so palpable that Casey, still resting her head on Alex’s chest, noticed it immediately. She smiled, her lips curving tenderly as she heard the pounding heartbeat.

“I think your heart agrees with me,” Casey joked, lifting her gaze to see Alex’s reaction.

Alex laughed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “You have that effect on me,” she admitted, her hands stroking Casey’s hair. “I didn’t think... I didn’t think this would be so... intense.”

Casey looked at her softly, her eyes shining with a mix of love and amusement. “Well, get ready, because this is just the beginning.”

Alex smiled, leaning in to place a soft kiss on Casey’s forehead. “I love you too,” she finally whispered, letting those words flow with all the sincerity she felt in that moment.

Casey rested her head back on her chest, allowing the sound of Alex’s heart to lull her. They didn’t need to say anything more. They were exactly where they wanted to be, together, tangled in the sheets, wrapped in a happiness they both knew would last far beyond that night.

Outside, the city continued its course, but inside that apartment, in that bed, Alex and Casey’s world was perfect.

[ilovefoodandslasherswithmasks]

Part 3 Billy Hargrove ff yall!!!

First of all I hope you enjoyed the last parts I actually found it very difficult to write something after years. But well I'll eventually get the hang again!

Minors shoo or I'm grounding you and taking your phone for the next month!

Warnings: legit we jump to spice, getting down to the pop hoping very soon. Smut, degrading, praising, spit, spanking, ummmm choking what else mhhh biting? Cause hell yehhh. Basically the entire sex education part involved. P in V and shit 🫡.

Reader is again fem, if you wish for a different ff with gender neutral ya let me know but I'll suck at that tbh.

Cause I need more than my imagination.

Groaning he smacks your thighs about to scold you, when a moan left your lips. Causing his mouth to hang open and yours shutting tightly.

"Fuck Doll, did you like that?" He asks his hand rubbing the spot he smacked, you cover your mouth with your hands nodding hesitantly.

"Damn..." is all that leaves his swollen lips, the way he looked up at you, his eyes glistening with excitement and pure ustulation(using big words everyone, take a break from this 'sin' and look it up), maybe a little love and adoration you didn't seem to notice. "So...you're into smacking?"

"I don't know..I never...'tried" you say putting up air quotes.

"Mh how about this, I go down on you, eat this sweet pussy and then I put you on all fours and spank you?" He asked with a snarly smirk, expecting a no and a hard rejection only for your foot to press against his crotch.

"Yeah? Think you can last longer this time, bitch?" (Ueiseisbsisj I love this) you tease as he glares up at you slightly.

"Wanna make a bet who'll cum first if we 69? Cause I'm sure I'd win"

"Pff, yeah right! I'd rather you go down on me instead. I mean I already made you cum if you cum twice in a row it's a bit unfair-" you snort a laugh as he yanks you to the edge of the bed, your thighs on his shoulders. Before he bites your thighs hard.

"Gonna make you cum so hard doll, you won't even know what hit you" and fuck was he right.

Not even the first few flicks of his tounge against your clit, up your slit and back down, had you arching your back moaning and whimpering loudly. Fingers lost in his curls and tugging gently.

"Ah Fuck Billy-" you gasp as he sucks your clit, his fingers teasing at your hole.

"Want more?" He asks and you could hear his breathy chuckle and smirk as he asked, his index finger and middle spreading your labia.

"Gonna have to use your words Darling or I'm stopping."

You whine as you thrust your hips into his smirk, "Please Billy"

"Nah not Billy, Love"

A heavy groan of frustration pass your lips as he stops his hands and kisses.

"FUCK my god you're an annoying fuck, please B- Sir, I want to cum on your tounge and fingers...fuck okay please jeez I'm so frustrated!"

"You know What? Fuck that, get on your knees, face down."

"What? why?!" Feeling devastated he didn't go down on you.

"But I wanna know what it's like!"

"To bad, you're getting fucked. Maybe if you're good I'll go down on you after you cum on my cock."

Rolling over you wiggle up, on your knees at the edge of the bed, your hands digging into the sheets, face turned to look over your shoulder. He gazed down at you his hands traveling over your hips, to your waist, onto your back, pushing gently to help arch it further.

"Keep it like that"

Nodding you shiver, his hands slipping onto your ass, a hard slap hitting your cheek, earning a gasp.

"Yeah, you like that?"

"Mh yes.."

Billy smiles, his hand traveling up your thighs, his fingers gently pushing into you, thrusting hard, harder than expected.

"Ahh fuckk~" a muffled groan came from Billy, glancing over your shoulder he was so focused. Biting his bottom lip, brows knitted together, his eyes flicker over your body, every flinch and shiver now engraved into his mind. The slow squelching sound that started to grow with every single thrust of his fingers. His palm slapping against your clit somehow. A laugh erupted from behind you.

"Holy shit, I could just fuck you right now. I mean with how wet you are I'd slip in no issues at all! Shit babe I might" you could hear the temptation bubbling in his voice.

"Shit...maybe I should... would probably give your pussy a nice stretch" the way you felt yourself clench around his fingers.

"Mh please...."

"What was that? I didn't quite catch that"

"Fuck...please fuck me..stretch me out"

"Mhhh shit" groaning he smacked you again, your ass burning at how hard he slapped you.

"Want me to fuck you without preparation? Fucking slut"

Flinching when he pressed up against you, his dick stroking up and down your slit, catching at your clit which made you jolt, pushing up back into him which made him hiss slow curses.

"Fucking shit....Great- damn..you drive me crazy" sighing, he pushed his tip in between your inner labia, gently taking his sweet ass time as he pushes further into you. Slipping past the first tight ring which made you moan, gripping at his thigh.

"Wait ahh...fuck Billy it hurts"

"Mh shit love, I'm sorry...I won't move...gonna let you get used to it real good....fuck, this pussy is so good Doll...I think I wanna do this everyday...or every damn second of the day, wanna keep being buried in your cunt....hm"

Taking deep breaths you slowly grind back into him, wanting more, you whine as he doesn't move, letting you slowly back into him, pushing inch after inch into you. Billy just groans as he watches the way you swallow him, your swollen clit brushing against his balls by now. A satisfied sigh leaving you as he grips your hips.

"Sh-Shit...did you just fuck back into me? Even thou this is our first time? You just straight up did the work." He laughs a bit teasing you. "Wanna ride it? So you can do it for me? I don't mind lazing around if you're into that"

You groan, glancing over your shoulder.

"Will you just fuck me already?"

"Impatient. Like always. Okay I'll fuck you, but let me warn you, the next day you'll be limping" you were about to scoff before he started to slam into you.

The loud yelp that left you when he imidiatly went for hard, fast and deep wasn't really helping.

You expected it to hurt, it honestly did a little bit. Your cervix was probably gonna end uo bruised but the pain made the pleasure feel twice as intense.

"Ah holy shit Billy...wait!"

"Nuh uh. Gonna fuck you good...."

You can't do anything but moan and whine and grip the fabric below you as he drills into you. Every vein started to drag against your walls. Never did you think you could feel all the details from inside, I mean it's unbelievable but it turned you on more.

They way you started to grow wetter with every detail that you started to feel with every drag out.

Moans falling off your tounge as he slowed down watching the way you seemed to enjoy it more.

He spanked you as he dragged himself out, painfully slow. All the veins, curves and more now you felt more intensely than before.

"Mh what's up with you? You're even more wet and I don't think it's how I'm fucking you.....what is it?"

"Oh...ah I can feel every damn thing...shit every detail of your dick...I can feel it with my walls...Billy this turns me on so much..."

He pulls out before gently flipping you over, lifting you so you're laying with your head in the pillow before he placed another one under your back. Lifting your legs around his waist he slowly sinks back in. Holding eye contact like his live depended on it. He never cared about doing it slow, or whatever, but with you he wanted you to feel all the pleasure. If he didn't cum it done don't matter then.

He set a slow pace, watching the way your eyes fluttered shut, he bend over you kissing your neck gently. Hands kneading your chest.

"Mh Bill....this feels great..."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good cause I think I'll manage to cum like this...."

Sweat started to form on both of your bodies. Eyes stuck in a deep gaze. Lips gently and softly but also roughly leaving marks over one another's bodies. Soft hand digging against his back, rougher hands pushing you waist up into a bigger arch. Your g spot getting stimulated by every push and drag at this angle. And your clit grinded against his abdomen. The way his hand wrapped around your neck slowly, a slight pressure against your air pipes making you throb. Or the fact he let his spit dribble into your mouth or over your chest. Was it nasty..was it hot...pure sex steamed off of him no matter what he did.

Billy buried his face into your neck.

"Gosh...you feel so damn good...."

"Can you please move a little more..need it"

he sat back up his hand finding your clit which made you jolt. Moans starting to grow louder and pick up in pace when he started to pick up in speed..

His thrusts became sloppy and the sound he released where fucking heavenly. You could cum just from his moans and groans.

"Shit gonna fill this cunt..."

You feel your head fall back, you body starting to tense slowly, you hips bucking.

"Shit...Billy"

"I know..." he mumbles as he grabs your hips lifting them further as he suddenly went back to his drilling. And shit that did it for you. You cam undone but he kept going. Groaning and biting his lip hard when you started to pulse around him.

It felt damn good but he needed to see you come once more.

He kept thrusting and pushing, you ended up a trembling mess, legs barely holding up as he pistons into you.

The sounds he let out when he finally edged closer to his own orgasm were fucking pornographic. Never did you think that you were into it but as soon as sounded like that you climaxed again. Hard. Like crazy hard.

You're entire body seemed to spasm underneath him the same way your pussy did and he lost it. He delivered a few more hard, deep thrusts as he came. He saw fucking stars. Which was a first. The way he gazed gazed down at you ones he was done, still bucking his hips at the pleasure as he collapsed over you.

"Billy?" You ask after catching your breath.

"Yeah..just gimme a minute..."

You did, playing with his hair till you realize he was starting to fall asleep.

"Billy?" You ask nudging him.

"....at least pull out...and get under the blanket" he groaned slightly as he moved gently flopping next to you, pulling the blankets up, stretching his legs before he grabbed you by the waist and gently kissed your face.

"Never felt this tired after sex...before..."

"Well lucky me.."

_______________

Yall this was rushed okay, I might write it longer in the future but honestly I'm to lazy to do it right rn. And I don't got any inspiration rn. I promise I'll figure this out. And write better spice.

[heilith]

Never Die

The art and prompt by the very cool Oak_Hawthorn, for the Scribbles and Drabbles 2023

There is a cloaked figure sneaking around in the Elvenking's Halls. They make an effort to remain unseen, but they seem set on a path to the King's treasury. Is it a Man, an Elf, or someone else entirely? What is their purpose here? Are their intentions good or ill?

Enjoy. I myself refuse to read it yet again, so all that might be wrong with it will be corrected later. I hope there are no such things. :) But deep inside I know there are.

@fall-for-tolkien

Never Die.

“A dragon.”

He missed the moment of the intrusion entirely. He harboured no slightest suspicion his Kingdom was a little less than inaccessible. But it was. Not enough for a serious expression of alarm, as he first believed, but quite worthy of some degree of annoyance. 

Giving it a better afterthought now, he couldn’t but admit his vanity had served him a bad turn. The centuries he’d spent keeping the enemy out of the borders of his domain distorted his perception of what he was capable of. Threats turned into challenges, stability – into boredom.

It was only a matter a time until he was outplayed.

“A dragon,” repeated he, still utterly unbelieving. The truth appeared to be so ridiculous he couldn’t build a strategy around it – something that hadn’t happen to him for millennia.

The golden lizard gurgled happily, sucking and gnawing on one his prized silver sceptres.

“You didn’t need that one, Thranduil,” you scratched the creatures head most casually, which only added to the absurdity of the picture, “Eru knows how much time it took him to dig it out of this pile.”  

He felt like laughing. Not because he found your wit deserving of a laugh. Though yes, he did. He wasn’t fooling you and he couldn’t fool himself.

And yet the brainlessness he was witnessing before his very own eyes was beyond any humour.

The little spiky ball of happiness was reeking of evil for miles.

He first sensed it, making his way to the pool chambers. A viscous clot of a stranger aura. He walked into it headfirst and was plunged into the strongest vision he’d ever had a non-pleasure of enduring. A figure in a dark tattered cloak, someone from the outside, someone…

“I should have thought of it.”

Another lie he was forced to utter while searching for the ways to bring together the scraps of his dignity.

“You couldn’t have thought,” you interrupted him with a bold smile. He almost forgot how sweet you could be when you smiled, even if you meant no good, “Who could have dared?”

You could.

Now he could tell exactly why the three times cursed first vision had failed to trouble him enough. Your print on the plane of visions was familiar to him. You radiated the teasing vibes of an old…friend.

The knowing he was still considering you such was bitter.

Another phantom caught up with him a step away from the throne room. The cloak was wrapped around his shoulders this time. A burden in his hands was heavy. He pulled it closer to his chest to keep his balance…In a flash a surge of malicious energy coursed through him. The world blinked. There was no cloak. There was no burden. But the evil was still there.

“What do you want?” the composure was returning to him slowly. He had to stop behaving like he’d become a King two days ago.

“Why, to feed the child…”

The sceptre seemingly forgotten, the dragon spread a pair of ugly webbed wings and toddled to the nearest open chest. His claws were clanking against the floor like fine daggers.

“He cannot fly. Not yet,” you murmured with such tenderness in your voice he took it as a personal offense.  

 “We barely have food to feed ourselves,” he snapped, “And even if we did, what made you think I’d share it with…this.”

“Would you share it with me?”

“Before or after you had joined the ones who were slitting our throats open?”

He sent a mental order to the guards. He should have kept them by the treasury at all times, but who would ever have dared…

You would.

The traps were now everywhere. The shreds of the evil presence were slowly drifting in the corridors, giving him painful jolts each time he was unable to avoid them. The cloaked trespasser was invading his dreams. And no one could not only stop, but even see them.

He was helpless and brimming with ire.  

“I don’t need food, Thranduil. He doesn’t need it. He feeds on owning things. He’s a dragon.”

The guards had stormed in before he had warned them not to touch you. You were someone he craved for getting even with on his own.

You snapped your fingers with the same come-hither smile. The creature raised its head and stared at the soldiers with three limpid eyes, not a single thought in any of them.

The guards stopped short. Desperate, he was watching them turn away and march out of the treasury, as if a silent voice was shouting commands into their backs.

He didn’t protest, when your hand ran against his shoulder soothingly. He was at a loss.

“And that is how we passed by your watchposts. And your guards. And you – just once,” you spoke in a soft voice, as your fingers kept drawing small curving lines along his arms and up to his neck.

“Why did you leave with them?” asked he hoarsely, “For this?”

“They promised they would spare your son, Thranduil. I couldn’t trust you to protect him.”

“Are you still with them?”

You leaned your forehead into his chest. His arm defied his will, slipping around you like it had done so many times before.

“No,” you whispered, “But I will not return. Don’t worry, we won’t stay here for long.”

“And if I beg?”

You laughed again and lifted your hand again.  

A dry sound rolled across the treasury.

[malkaleh]

Perhaps it is her likeness to her father that has Arwen knowing how much pain he carries - he has never shown it, never let any of it fall on them, on anyone but she feels it, in the song. She wants to ease it, wants to give her Adar who has only ever given them all love - the joy and understanding of who, Arwen is still convinced, the best Adar in all the ages of the world.

When she wakes, once from a nightmare that is not one of cages, of nightingales and a world too perfect, her Adar only gently teaches her the songs to stem the visions, fetches her warm milk sweet with honey and spices and they wait together for the dawn to come. She has always loved this quietness together - the times when they might simply be.

He has always seen her as Arwen, his child who loves the same rose and honey cakes that are her favourites (afternoons in which he would ‘sneak’ a tray for them and would read her tales), who does not like storms and likes the quiet of reading in the early morning before the rest of Rivendell awakens.

He has always been there for all of them, for so many and all Arwen wants when she grows is to wish, oh she wishes she might stay. How did you bear it, she thinks of the uncle she has never known - when he is so kind, when he does not bar you, does nothing but embrace you. How did you leave, even when you would for love, when there is another love, when your family stands on one side?

(Aragorn too, knows her pain - he too loves Elrond as a father but he has always been mortal and in truth it is not the gift of Eru that scares Arwen - it is leaving her loved ones that brings her to tears).

She learns of what Sauron had done and she thinks, Adar no, no. Arwen has heard tales of her father as a young elfling from her grandmother, from her Uncle Celebrimbor and all she can see is a gentleness chained. She wants to heal them, but it is a hurt too great to be healed. And her Adar has only ever been kind for it.

@nocompromise-noregrets asked about Arwen in Gold Cages verse and listen I’m a book!Arwen girl and a ‘Elrond and Arwen are extremely alike’ girl. FYI Aragorn fucking hates everything about this (I think Aragorn sadly found out because of Some Fucking Dick The Twins Nearly Stabbed).

[lamemaster]

Love her, not me

Request: Hey I love your writing! Really like your finrod works I love him with an edain reader and I think the potential internal conflict with him about amarie and reader would be so juicy??? "Do I wait for my past elven lover who will be with me for eternity? Or explore this new love with an edain who will leave me eventually." THE DRAMA

Pairing: Finrod x Reader

Genre: Angst and ✨DRAMA✨

AN: This has been coming a long time I am sorry for the delay. I hope you like it anon💕

"Don't be so nice to me, it might get my hopes up." You push away the cup of tea presented in front of you.

Seated next to you Finrod's smile freezes at your words. An awkward but perfectly diplomatic smile settles on his lips. It is unlike the one you have come to love.

The king of Nargothrond clears his throat, his eyes wandering all over the room. Landing anywhere but at you. Perhaps it was too much to even look you in the eye. "It is merely tea between friends. We are still friends are we not?" He asks, his voice meek. It is different from the elf who manages to charm every race on the face of Arda.

"Friends do not cancel meetings to meet up for tea, friends do not insist on meeting alone; devoid of any other company." Your words are sharp. They seem to cut the air laden with tension between you both. "And we Finrod can never just be friends. My heart won't allow that without stringing itself to foolish hope."

 This marked your last chanced meeting with the King of Nargothrond.

Falling for Finrod Felagund was foolish but also foolishly easy. It was easy to forget that the world did not revolve around him. He, who was magnificent compared to any other creature to walk on the face of Arda, was not the center of the world. A presence too perfect that it felt as if Eru himself had taken the pain of shaping every inch of him.

So, yes you fell in love with him. It was inevitable. But you never intended it to be anything more than the burden of your own heart. You were afterall too prideful to confess to him like every other stary-eyed Edain. 

Your entire time was devoted to transcribing the oral legends of your language to his while keeping your eyes from staring at him for too long. But somehow, your eyes met with his smiling ones. A fragment of the moment that you wished to never have happened. 

The sole moment was enough to tug the King of Nargothrond by your side. What started as a conversation about rolling r’s lent itself into debates, evening strolls, sharing books, watching him play a harp, tracing constellations until the stars led your hand into his. And it fit so perfectly. As if it was made to be held by him. 

The path from fingertips to the caress of lips was a slippery slope. It felt too right to cradle his face in your palms and feel his lips on yours. His curls slipped into your fingers settling into your palms softly. 

You were eager. You wanted it more than anything else. Perhaps it was the eagerness of possessing that kind of love, that blinded you. 

But it did not take long for the sweetness of your kiss to turn into the bitterness of the realization. Your love was doomed to perish from its conception. The celebration of Finrod’s reciprocity to your affection was dulled by a growing ache of the truth that he was not yours. You had known it. The King of Nargothrond had a lover waiting back in the blessed lands. 

You pulled away from him. Your hands slipped off from his curls. Your heart had protested every single movement that took you away from him. You ached to be closer despite the abyss of truth between you and him.

However, more painfull the look of horror on Finrod’s face or how he had stormed off leaving you alone. It was a rejection that came with the broken hope of acceptance. 

For weeks you did not see him. Those felt the heaviest of your mortal life. So, you busied yourself in finishing your work during the days and blacked out drunk at night. But even a glimpse of him seemed to evade you. 

Bundling your misery into the fevor of finishing your labor, you stained your hands with ink. There wasn’t much that you could offer him but your absence. Then so be it. Finrod would never have to remember you or the insignificant kiss that centuries could bury into a forgotten memory.

You were ready to give him the present of your absence, until he showed up. Just the sight of him had deluded your mind into thinking perhaps…he too felt something. 

But the Finrod who returned was different. He returned with an oblivion to whatever had transpired between you both. As all your heartache was a construct of your own making. For a fleeting moment you believed it. 

He greeted you with a warm smile, the same smile that once marked the beginning of your friendship to him. It was as if the pages of time had turned, erasing the chapters of heartache and leaving only the ink of indifference.

"You seem to have been quite occupied in my absence," he remarked, glancing at the scattered parchments and ink-stained hands that bore witness to the agony you had poured into your work.

Your heart, which had dared to hope, now sank like a stone. The weight of his obliviousness pressed upon you, and you realized that the love that had gripped your soul had failed to leave a lasting mark on his memory.

With a forced smile, you replied, "Yes, I've been immersed in my tasks. A distraction, if you will." The bitterness of those words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of the wounds that refused to heal.

He could have fooled you, if not for the foreign distance that loomed between you both. Opting for the seat farthest from you, he did not pour over your work like he always did. He still laughed and rambled passionately about the characters of ancient legends but it was contained. It was King of Nargothrond not Finrod you had to yourself for a second of your life. 

You played along the role he assigned you. A friend, a coworker, nothing more. It was better this way. 

The distancing should have stirred anger within you, should have humiliated your pride, but instead, it became a silent torment that gnawed at your soul. Nights were spent in solitude, your mind spinning with futile thoughts of how to bridge the gap, how to reclaim the love that had slipped through your fingers.

In the quiet moments, when the world slept, your heart wrestled with the demons of longing. You crafted scenarios in your mind, scenarios where the King of Nargothrond melted away, and Finrod, with the sparkle in his eyes and the warmth in his smile, returned to you.

Perhaps his cruelty would have harderened your heart. Stripped you of irrsupressable longing had the slivers of his own desire not slipped into your meeting with him. 

Finrod was subtle in his desperation, a master at concealing the traces of his own desire. A mere mortal might not have detected the nuances, the subtle shifts in his gaze, the hesitation in his voice, or the way his fingers lingered on the pages of your work. But your heart, fueled by its own yearning, became a relentless seeker of any sign, any glimmer of reciprocation.

The unexpected errands, the discussions about tea, the orchestrated crossings of your paths—each encounter with Finrod seemed to hold the promise of something more, yet every meeting left you with the bitter taste of a friendship that refused to evolve.

In a moment of desperate rebellion against the unending cycle of longing and unfulfilled desires, you threw yourself into the arms of a random stranger who happened to approach you during dinner. It was a bold move, driven by the need to sever the invisible threads that bound you to the King of Nargothrond.

You felt his eyes on you, a gaze that had become a constant presence in your life. The decision to embrace the arms of another was not driven by the desire for a new connection but rather a desperate attempt to shake Finrod from his silent yearning. It was a calculated move, a ploy to force him to confront the reality of your actions.

As the stranger engaged you in conversation, you played along, allowing the charade to unfold. Finrod's gaze, once filled with a subtle longing, now bore witness to a scene that shattered the illusion of exclusivity. It was a painful spectacle, a dagger aimed at the heart of a love that had become entangled in a web of unspoken words.

You wrapped your arms around the stranger whose name felt awkward on your tongue. You let the man whisper filth in your ears. Words that could have been loud enough for Finrod to hear. You let his hands roam all over you. And then while you could still feel Finrod’s gaze glaring at you, you led the man to your room. 

You spent the night with him breaking all and every chance of ever attaining love you desired the most. Even as the man held your body, kissed your lips, you could not help but wonder how he, the one you love, would have done it. 

Finrod would have been more gentle, he would have never degraded you with the speech the man used taking you for an easy catch. He would perhaps have held you hand. But you don’t know. You will never know. 

The tears that flow down your face that night are not of pleasure but of sorrow. Even as your body trembles with pleasure, your heart feels nothing but the pain of the hurt you have caused him. 

After kicking out the stranger from your room, you lay back down on the sweat soaked sheets that smelled nothing like what you had once hoped for. 

You made the choice for him. You have surrendered to the fair elleth who waits for your beloved seas apart. The fates have played as they were set to do. He will be happier next to her, you tell yourself. He had to be. 

Someone out of you both had to find joy. It had to be him. 

In the final moments of Finrod's breath, his eyes remained fixed on you. There, right beside him, you kissed his wounds with gentle lips, a tender gesture in the face of impending darkness.

"You are one stubborn elf, Nom," you chuckled, your arms wrapping around him. In this moment, nothing held you back from him. In the passing moments of death, you could love him freely, even if only as a figment in his mind.

“I love you,” he whispered aloud, a confession that resonated through the darkness of Angband. Your kisses paused, surprise flickering in your eyes even within the dream. “I love you so much that I cannot stop. I tried,” tears streaked down his cheeks. “I tried not to love you. I stopped Aegnor, but I myself could not resist. I still love you very much.” Ages worth of grievances and confessions spilled from his lips.

You wiped away his tears with hands that still held the fragrance of ink and paper. “I love you, Finrod. There is no other reason for my existence but to love you,” you spoke, tilting his chin to kiss him once more. “All my actions, all my motivations have been for nothing but you.” He knew it better than anyone.

He had known it, and the knowledge cut deeper than any wound. His inability to act on his feelings had led you to make a choice, a choice to bow to a man you never loved.

Bleeding out on the freezing ground, Finrod, the firstborn of Arafinwe, dreamed not of Valinor, his siblings, his parents on nether shores, or of Amarie as you both had wished. His dreams were of you. In those dreams, Finrod leaned into the warmth of your hands, which seemed to numb his pain and replace it with the thrumming pleasure of your touch. In those dreams, he could finally love you without the constraints of the waking world.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

A little late response to the Adar filthy/sweet head canon request (my apologies by the way). But I have a sweet head canon for you that I'm very fond of....

Adar plants alfarin seeds before battle in season one...but what if he also has a supply of hung-dried sage blossoms on his person and amongst his belongings. Although he is uruk, he still embraces his elvish roots and is in tune with nature. He rises early every morning and goes off by himself to a tranquil and private place alone. He takes some of the dried sage blossoms, and lights it with a small flame by striking two stones together. As the sage blossoms release the smoke, serving as a form of incense offering, he spends an hour with his eyes closed praying and communing with the Valar, Yavanna. Thanking her for the life around him in nature and for the lives of his children he is held responsible for.

Sage blossoms are all he has to help keep the strings of his elvish past tied to his corrupted form. In these moments he is able to feel peace and rest. But at during some of these times with Yavanna, he often feels unworthy to kneel in her presence since he has been twisted by darkness... And "no being touched by the hands of Morgoth should be granted the honor of communing with such an esteemed member of the Valar".

He begins each day with "Yavanna, blessed giver of life and protector of all creation of Arda, I kneel before you a broken and poisoned form of my previous self. A child of Eru Ilúvatar taken by darkness. Although I have no right to kneel before you I beg you allow me an audience, if any essence of my created form remains. I am no one's servant but your own..."

🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻

And all Adar requests for father's day from his children is freshly picked sage blossoms so he can keep his store stocked and continue his morning prayers with Yavanna on their behalf. 🥹

*KEYBOARD SMASH*

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

I'm OBSESSED with this ritual idea that you've laid out... I LOVE the notion that Adar still takes time alone to be an elf, i think that totally tracks with his character.

And the idea that his children pick sage for him because they know it's the only thing he truly wants

I JUST

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[glorf1ndel]

Eyes that fire and sword have seen and Erestor please! ✨

Anon, after over two months, I finally wrote a fic in response to your prompt! I hope you enjoy it. ♡ Also on Ao3 here!

Eyes That Fire and Sword Have Seen (1k, Glorestor)

“Elrond!”

Glancing up from his paperwork, the Lord of Imladris found the captain of the guard suddenly in his office, looking concerned. Honestly, Elrond had expected this moment, and he was surprised that Glorfindel hadn’t come by earlier. He gestured for the other Elf to sit down, but Glorfindel shook his head, blond curls whirling around his shoulders.

“It’s urgent,” Glorfindel said. “Erestor has been in his room with the door locked all day.”

At that, Elrond sighed. He did not have to guess at why. Last night, a traveling Elf had recognized Erestor as one of Fëanor’s former followers. Needless to say, the ensuing conversation had not gone well. Erestor had fled, and since then, he’d apparently been in his room, unwilling to come out.

“Can you blame him?” Elrond asked.

“No, but he can’t sit in there forever. He hasn’t had breakfast or lunch. And I’m sure there’s work he wants to get done instead of ruminating.”

Elrond smiled. The captain of Imladris was always so concerned about his chief counselor. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that Erestor and Glorfindel were courting – but Elrond knew better. Those two could dance around each other for a century without either of them making a real move.

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“Unsuccessfully. I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

Of course. Elrond doubted that Glorfindel had known about Erestor’s past until last night; it was a topic that the counselor rarely discussed. Elrond was only privy to that information as Lord of the Valley, and as someone with a personal connection to the Fëanorians. Erestor and Glorfindel were close friends, but the chief counselor had never wanted the reborn Elf to know about such things.

“Eyes that fire and sword have seen are ever on guard.”

“Elrond...”

“Don't give up,” he urged Glorfindel. “Just take what I said to heart. And keep being yourself."

****

Deep breath, Glorfindel told himself, before knocking on Erestor’s door. He tried to make the knock sound as friendly as possible, but to no avail.

“Go away,” Erestor called. Although the counselor appeared to be sulking, his tone had lost none of its sharpness.

“It’s Glorfindel.”

“Oh,” came a voice, smaller than before. “Definitely go away, then.”

“Come on,” Glorfindel pleaded. “I just want to talk to you. Look, Erestor, you shouldn’t–“ he caught himself, knowing that Erestor loathed being told what to do when he was in a bad mood. “The opinion of some random elf doesn’t matter. So what if he made a fuss about you being a–“

Suddenly, the door opened, and Erestor flung out a hand to grab the collar of Glorfindel’s tunic and pull him inside.

“Don’t talk about it in public, Glorfindel,” he hissed, slamming the door behind them. “For Eru’s sake.”

Glorfindel blushed. He straightened his collar, fingers brushing against the spot where Erestor’s touch had been.

“I thought you Fëanorians had a messy relationship with Eru.”

Erestor gave him a look that made sweet, sunflower-like Glorfindel feel as though he would wither on the spot.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Erestor murmured, yet he was playing with the edge of his shirt sleeve in that way that signaled to Glorfindel that no, he wasn’t fine.

Glorfindel ventured a smile and took a step toward him.

“I just don’t like seeing you like this.”

“What do you expect, Glorfindel?” Erestor scoffed. “They called me a kinslayer to my face. And before you state the obvious, yes, it’s true; I’m certainly aware. That still doesn’t mean I’d like to be reminded of it. I do not feel proud of that time in my life.”

Glorfindel nodded. Then an idea took hold inside his head, and he beamed.

“Well, instead of wallowing in unpleasant memories, let’s go for a stroll through the gardens.”

“What?” Erestor asked flatly.

“Let’s go for a walk!”

“I don’t want to appear in public right now–“

“Come on!”

“Glorfindel, I swear–“

“Fëanorians are banned from swearing!”

****

In the end, after much protest from Erestor, they went for a walk. Glorfindel insisted on putting his arm around Erestor’s, which initially annoyed the counselor, but he relented. In the end, Erestor could not object to being close to Glorfindel. While the captain spoke at length about all of the beautiful flowers in the garden, many of which he’d planted himself during his spare time, Erestor stayed quiet.

“And these daffodils really took off this year. I’m delighted. Last year, they were kind of… I don’t know, droopy? Like Lindir’s face after someone insults his lute playing.”

“Glorfindel,” Erestor began, stopping in front of a bench. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on a rose to his right, not meeting the captain’s eyes. “Why are you trying so hard to cheer me up?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Erestor hesitated. He sat down on the bench, and Glorfindel followed suit. His mind was still racing with thoughts of last night. Of the Elf that had spat in his face and hissed, Kinslayer. Which, understandably, brought… Other thoughts to mind, of staring down at his blood-soaked hands and not being able to recognize them.

“I suppose I’m not used to–” Someone looking at me like I’m Arien shining in the sky, his mind supplied, but he didn’t voice the words.

“You are dear to me,” Glorfindel said, “As you are.” It was so honest and open, Erestor felt himself holding back tears.

“You’re going to make an old Elda cry,” Erestor said, managing a laugh instead.

“Oh, come on. You’re not that old.” Glorfindel reached for Erestor’s hand and pressed a small kiss to the inside of his palm. “I would very much prefer to hear you laugh again.”

At that, Erestor’s small smile widened. For a long time, he had thought that he’d followed Fëanor to a place past the point of no return. It was only after living in Imladris that Erestor realized there was a place beyond that one: somewhere he could call home. And Glorfindel was essential to it all.

“Spend more time in my company, and maybe you will.”

****

And if Elrond, admiring the gardens from his balcony, happened to see his chief counselor and captain share a kiss, then he simply grinned and said nothing.

[rainy-day-wizard]

QSMP Members in Japanese script!!

Soooo i saw some people doing the qsmp members names in other scripts and thought i'd join in :] i know how to read Japanese script (exept kanji ;-;) because i studied Japanese for a few years- be warned i forgot a lot of what i learned and my memory is pretty basic so this will definitely be very flawed im sure but i thought it'd be fun anyway!! bc i haven't touched japanese in a WHILE

i'll try not to infodump about the japanese writing system so i'll just say that these will be in katakana which is used to write foreign words!

English speakers

Badboyhalo- バヅゥボィイハロ (Badu-boii-hal/ro) yeahhh thats a tough one... but it's probably the closest i'll get ;-;

DanTDM- ダンテデエム (Dan-tede-emu) or just ダン

FitMC- フィットエムスィイ　(Fitto-emu-sii) or just フィット

Foolish- フリイシゥ (Furiishu) no notes F♥️G

IronMouse- アイロンマオス (Airon-maosu)

Jaiden- ジャイデン (Jaiden)

Nihachu- ニハチュ (Nihachu) or ニッキー

Philza- フィイウザ (Fiuza) or フィイルザ (Filuza)

Slimecicle- スライムスィイクル (Sulaimu-siikuru) this took way too long, curse you charlie slimecicle

TinaKitten- ティイナキッテン (Tiina-kitten) or just ティイナ (Tiina)

Tubbo- トゥウッボオ (Tubboo)

WilburSoot- ウィルバア��ウト (Wirubaa-suuto) or just ウィルバア (Wirubaa)

Spanish speakers

Carre- カアレイ(Kaarei) Short and sweet B)

Elmariana- エルマリアナ (Eru-mariana)

German- ヘルマン (Heruman)

Lenay- レネイ (Lenei)

Luzu- ルーズ (Luuzu) plus a bonus Arin! エリン (Erin)

Maximus- マクスィムス (Makusimusu) or マクソ (Makuso)

MissaSinfonia- ミッサスィフォンニア (Missa-sifonnia)

Polispol- ポウイスポウ (Pou-isu-pou) or maybe ポルイスポル (Polu-isu-polu)? the first is more phonetically accurate

Quackity- クアキティイ (Kuakitii) or just クアキティ (Kuakitii)

Rivers- リベエレス (Riv(b)eeresu) or リベエリス (Riv(b)eerisu)

Roier- ロイエエル (Roieeru)

Rubius- ルウビエス (Ruubiesu)

Spreen- スップリン (Suppurin)

Vegetta- デヘエタ (V(b)eheeta) *

Willyrex- ウィリレクス (Wiri-rekusu)

Portuguese speakers

Bagi- バアジイ (Baajii) pretty easy and accurate

Cellbit- セルビット (Selubitto) or if you wanna keep the "tch" sound at the end セルビッチ (Selubicchi) lmaoo

Felps- フェレプス (Felepusu) it doesn't really sound right but it's the best i could think of

Mike- マィク (Maiku) more english pronunciation or マィキ (Maiki) more like "mikey"/ the ptbr pronunciation

Pactw- パクティイダブル (Paku-tii-daburu) or just パク (Paku)

French speakers

AntoineDaniel-アントアンダンイエル (Antoan-danielu)

AyPierre- アピエエル (Apieeru)

Baghera Jones- バゲラアジョンス (Bagera-jyonsu)

Etoiles- エトアア (Etoaa)

Kameto- カメト (Kameto) Incredibly simple it's just kameto

And our latest member 악어/Acau- アカウ

*Japanese doesn't have its own "V" sound so instead it's usually written with a character for the "B" sound even though most people still pronounce it like a "V"

I apologize in advance for any errors that i for sure made, my japanese is VERY rusty >_< If anyone of you is more proficient in japanese, feel free to point out any mistakes you see and i will try to fix it!!

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What kind of shenanigans can happen if Eru Lee and Minato happen to accidentally fall into twilight world and couldn’t directly go back (they’re stuck for now)?

Will they even interact with anyone?

Or like Maybe in the start of the battle in BD? Will that change the outcome of the “battle” somehow?

Anon's referring to Minato Namikaze and the Destroyer of Worlds.

The thing is, when it comes to crossover, I have to default to Lee and Obito. They're just more susceptible to shenanigans and interesting plotlines/things happening. And it's tradition. I'm sorry, anon, I have no choice.

Well, per the laws of interesting things happening, part of the problem of why the pair can't go back is Obito somehow immediately gets eaten by a vampire. Perhaps they're drawn in by the taste of his sweet sweet Uchiha blood only to realize "oh no, this is inedible alien gunk and what the fuck even is this" as Obito is both descended from alien gunk and uh had misadventures where he's more alien than he would have been otherwise thanks to a terrible time in a cave.

Three days later, after one hell of a fever, Lee realizes her beloved apprentice has turned into a crystal cannibalistic demon who, per how gifts in Twilight seem to work, is even more powerful than he was as Obito Uchiha with an uncontrollable thirst to eat people.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck" says Lee.

The rest of the time is spent on a quest to turn Obito back into a not cannibalistic crystal alien demon and Obito can you stop eating people for two seconds? (Obito has been living on a diet of clones/unfortunate humans who got too close).

It quickly becomes apparant that even if they could go home... if they do... this thing seems to be infectuous and the village will try to turn everyone into overpowered cannibal shinobi which is a very bad idea. Even if they just sacrifice a few to become berserker blood gods... that's bad.

"Maybe we shouldn't go home" Lee slowly realizes as she can't exactly leave Obito here/she was having issues at home anyway, and she can't seem to turn Obito back.

It then becomes a quest of "how do recovering shinobi do in a world where there's no feudal Japan" and "where do we put recovering crystal cannibalistic ghoul demon" and "why are other cannibalistic ghoul demons after us???" when they're a little too obvious with "we are alien shinobi, please hire us to murder bandits!"

I imagine they're propositioned by the Volturi and there's a lot of :/ "working for non-Konoha hidden village is bad".

If/when they come into contact with the Cullens I imagine there's a lot of "these people are weird" as the Cullens would appear extra weird to Lee and Obito. Though they might join to get Obito off of the clone juice. You know. That would be nice.

Sorry, anon, it's one of those questions best answered by writing a fic but I'm probably not going to do that.

[eri-pl]

Suggestion for anyone who can draw:

AtLA x Silm fanart

Ulmo in the waves, Katara on the beach, he asks "But can you sing?" Katara answers "I'm too busy washing my brother's dirty socks!", and Ulmo says "See, that's why I live alone."

Or Katara and Uinen(? Osse's wife) complaining about their brother and husband.

Aang before Manwe, with totally awed expression, Manwe's thought bubble "What a sweet child, I'm going to adopt him"

Toph in Aule's forge, with critical expression, making some comments about what she would do better. Aule's thought bubble: "Oh my Eru, she reminds me of Mairon." He looks terrified.

Ozai and Melkor. Ozai says "I'm the Phoenix Lord, ruler of all the world!", Melkor looks at him as if he was a curious bug and does something nasty.

Bonus: Oroma and Sokka sitting in the forest together, Orome in a fatherly pose. Sokka is proud, shows his bumerang. Orome with fascinated expression asks "It comes back?"

Bonus bonus: "My cabbages!" "My Trees!"

Bonus^3 Iroh and Olorin, drinking tea and complaining about their young companions.

[witchofhimring]

Gave it all up for love

Parings:

Indis x Finwe

Miriel x Finwë

Synopsis:

Indis has always found the notion of giving up everything for love to be romantic. But such an action would bring her more pain, and wound her fëa in a way unimaginable.

This story covers the story of Indis, her trials and tribulations in loving for Finwë.

Warning: Angst, mentions of death during childbirth, unhappy ending, hurt/no comfort, insecurity, jealousy, depictions of childbirth

"A loving heart so true is surely a blessing." Long ago there was a princess with golden hair. These words uttered to Indis the Fair stirred within the Vanyarin princess. For was there no anything so great as to love so fully?

When the day came where Indis could understand what it meant to care for another with abundance she had indulged in it. Never did she hold back or place up walls were compassion and friendship may grow. In those days when the trees light flooded Arda her world was a place of peace, love without pain. She loved her mother, father, uncle and cousins, even the rocks under her feet. All were dear to the Princesses heart.

But one shadow of dread lay there in this great house. Not over Indis as of now, but her mother. For she saw her daughters abundant love as a great source of joy, and dread. For the overflowing river of love can be polluted and harmed if not tempered. One day her mother stroked her hair and warned Indis; "Beware my Fair One, for love may cost you dear." Indis looked up at her serene mother. Still in the flush of youth, Indis only reached her mothers shoulders. The sister of King Ingwë looked down at her unfortunate young daughter. Bending down the tender mother pressed a kiss to her daughters warm forehead. "My sweet girl, you are so young. Guard your heart, even against him who might love you." Elemmë said. Indis could only laugh.

"Oh! To be so in love that I would give all my heart to him!" Indis took no heed of her mothers words, for how could love be so bad?

An answer delivered itself one fateful day when she visited the court of King Finwë and his new Queen, Miriel. She was fully grown now and was old enough to be presented. She first thing the Princess noticed upon her entrance into their great hall was that the two most regal individuals she had ever laid eyes on. Her attention was first drawn to the Queen. Her stature was not so tall, but she carried herself with unwavering grace. Miriel had a round face and a sweet rosebud mouth. Her eyes was a dark stormy grey that looked as if they could see right through her. "My good friend!" Finwë rose and descended the steps.

It came with the force of a great storm. Every bit of her tremored with the deepest warmth. Never had she laid eyes on such a fair being. When his sterling silver eyes met hers. His eyes seemed to pierce the soul, it was like they were connected by fate. Why her fëa called out to her she did not know. "And this is my beautiful niece, Princess Indis of the Vanyar." The Kings eyes settled on Indis. Indis was trembling with the intensity of her emotions. He took her small hand in his and pressed a small kiss to it. It was the most chaste of kisses and yet Indis's heart leapt.

"You never told us your niece was to fair. And you have kept her locked up for so long." There were a few scattered laughs amongst the crowd at Queen Indis's words. Indis's heart sank. In the fervor of emotions she had completely forgotten his heart was not hers to have. And by Eru he was married! Discussed with herself, horror filled her stomach. It curled and agony seeped into her soul.

Thus the doom of Indis began.

She walked by the lake, alone. Her uncle had departed for a council, leaving Indis to her own devices. Preferring to remain solitary as she so often did, Indis padded around the translucent water. The water lapped at her cold feel like a soft cats tail, tickling the soles. Months had passed and still her emotions were just as strong. Within her fëa there was a deep seeded torment. The months had not lessened her love for the Noldorin King. How cruel fat was, binding her to a man taken.

Voices could be heard chattering around the corner. Alarmed, and out of instinct, Indis dived behind the bushes. And she was glad for it. Queen Miriel and a cluster of handmaidens floating behind her with easy grace glided down the path. Miriel was unlike most elleths. She was neither tall nor strong looking, looking as though a single gust of wind might knock her over. Despite this, Miriel held in her very person the calm regality of a Queen, coolly ruling over her subjects. The Queen was not necessarily expressive, always so reserved, although none could accused her of unkindness. She was like silver, beautiful, delightful, cold and imperious. The golden princess could not measure up. Let it not be said Indis was vain. Never before had she felt any reason to entertain jealousy. It was not even Miriel's person who she envied, but the heart she felt. And she felt ashamed.

Their creamy white dresses flew like banners in the wind, a small army on hand to serve the Queen. Jealousy continually stabbed her heart. Always being of a shy disposition, envy grew in her heart of the regal Queen who so effortlessly lead the court. Indis ran a hand through her unruly though admittedly still radiant golden hair.

Even after the Queen had departed Indis sat there. Her emotions were a tempest as she had never known. Was this the pain her mother had spoken of, to love but never have it requited?

"My Lady?" No sound passed her lips, such was her alarm. King Finwë genially laughed. This did nothing for her anxiety. He seemed unperturbed by a maiden so flustered. Taking in his onyx black hair that went to his waist, his eyes a mix of grey and blue, tall and lean figure clad in maroon, Indis could bet the King was used to this reaction. "Your Grace....." Indis was lost for words. Gallantly he extended a helpful hand to which Indis excepted. The second her skin made contact with his her heart leapt. The King lead her to the pathway. "Why hide away from the court. Everyone finds you delightful!" Indis wanted to ask if he found her delightful. She quickly squashed it. What a monstrous notion, to desire a taken man. She thought of the Queens stern face.

"I was just walking your Majesty." Indis replied. "That does not explain your hiding." He said it with no malice. Indis looked down. What was she to say? That she was hiding and stewing in jealousy? "Not hiding. It is beautiful by the lake and I like to go there some time." Finwë seemed satisfied. The King walked her to the door and bade her farewell. Indis slipped inside and once alone allowed herself to collapse and sob.

Indis begged her uncle for permit to have his leave. Her excuse was that she missed her mother and friends. While all those were true there was another reason. The ache she felt for a married man was too great. So she departed from Tirion with tears down her face. "It is better this way." Indis though. The boat bobbed beneath her. She looked back at the dock and saw her uncle come forward. He was not alone. There were his retainers, and the King and Queen. Horrified and with a new throb of pain, Indis composed herself. She gracefully descended the plank and greeted them. "I am sorry to leave you uncle." Ingwë hugged his niece. When they parted the King and Queen stepped forward. "We are glad you came. Perhaps you may pay us another visit?" The Queen said cordially. Indis curtsied. "You would not say that if you knew." Indis thought. Next was the King and this part she dreaded. Thankfully the King did not touch her. He only smiled and wished her well. Indis tried to smile back. The she was back on the boat and leaving. Indis did not look back.

When Indis reached the shores of home collapsed into her mother arms. She wept and her mother soothed her. "This is yet a passing grief. There is much worst." If only she had understood.

Indis tried to forget about him. Some say that elves only fall in love once. She prayed it was not true. For it it was she was doomed. Finwë was bound to Miriel in body and soul. Indis felt completely alone. The seasons passed and life went on, but Indis was stuck in time. No longer did she dance in light. Her once bright eyes were dulled, rimmed with red. Alone she walked, bereft on comfort.

When she heard Miriel was pregnant Indis could hardly breath. Their bloodlines would be forever intertwined through this child. The new prince or princess would be a representation of their union, their love. Indis walked alone the shores and sung a lament, out of hearing and sight.

"The labor of Queen Miriel has begun!" There was much celebration in every elven realm. Caskets of wine were broken, music shook every branch and singing carried itself through the air. Every being, valar, maiar and elf alike seemed to rejoice at the long awaited for son of King Finwe. Everyone except a lonely Vanyarin elf-maiden who danced in the shadows. Indis danced with all the grief, rage and hurt she did posses. Her pale feet not even seeming to touch the grass. Telperion's light being the only witness to her heartbreak. For so long Indis had not danced. Now all she could do was dance. The emotions she felt had been locked away for far too long. In the light of Telperion danced, the sole spectator to her sadness.

That night she dreamed of a great flame. It started small, like and ember. When Indis had stepped forward it brightened. Like the pulse of a beating heart the flame beat. Its licking flames crawled along the ground. Larger and larger it grew, every beat increasing its size. Indis tried to run in vain. The fire swallowed everything in its paths. Indis ran in the dark trying to outrun the inevitable. Yet she feel in with a great roar the flames swallowed Indis whole.

Indis did not awake in the forest where she had collapsed with exhaustion. Instead a soft feathered bed and four walls greeted her. Indis could hear the sea near by, the smell of salt permeating her senses. "Indis!" Elemmë rushed forward. "Did you find me?" Indis sat up. She was sore and her feet felt like they were on fire. Her thoughts briefly went to the dream.

Indis pushed the sheets aside and swung her legs over. When she tried to stand up Indis's legs finally gave way. Her knees ached when she hit the marble ground. With a cry Indis's mother immediately stooped down. Groaning, Indis straightened out her legs. "I am fine mother. Tis simply a fall." Indis was helped to her feet. "I suppose it is no surprise, you were out for a week." Indis froze. "Sorry?" Her mother sighed. "You have been out all week. However our physicians are certain you will be fine." Elemmë straightened out a few loose strands of hair. She called out for help and Indis allowed herself to be taken for a bath. Her thoughts, despite the luxuriousness of the bath, were far away. All Indis could think about was her dream. Burning fire that consumed everything in its path with a vengeance. So different from the cool soothing water surrounding her.

Once properly cleaned Indis wrapped herself in a robe and laid down on the sofa. She felt so tired. Indis watched the waves outside gently going to and fro. The light from Laurelin cast light onto the waves. For a moment Indis was distracted. With an untroubled mind she watched Eru's creation unfold.

When her mother entered Indis sat up. Immediately she could tell there was something wrong. Upon her face Elemmë presented worry. Grimm tiding were upon her. Her mother set down the tea and took a deep breath. "Queen Miriel is....unwell." Indis could not truly process it. Unwell was not a word the Eldar used when referring to their kind. Mother and daughter stared at each other, one unsure of what they said, the other unsure of what she just heard. "How?" Elemmë seemed unwilling to speak. Cautiously she looked to the ground, uncharacteristically anxious. Thin pale fingers clutched each other. Elemmë pressed them to trembling lips. Now truly alarmed Indis walked to her mothers side. Taking her mother's hands Indis held them tenderly. "Mother, tell me what has happened." The ghost of a shutter passed through Elemmë. "She sickened after a childbirth an no one knows what to do, not even the Valar. Indis, we think she may die." Die was such a strange word when used in such a context. Surely this was exaggerated. The Queen could not truly be that ill. "Are you sure? Could it not be an exaggerated tale meant to cause chaos?" A shadow passed over Elemmë's face. "No."

They gathered beneath Varda's stars in a great meadow spanning miles. All dressed in white the mass of Vanyar prayed to Eru on their knees. A permeating silence wrapped up the solemn elves who were face with the unbelievable. Queen Miriel was dying. Indis on her knees clutched her hands together in a prayer. Jealous she might have been but never had Indis wished Miriel any harm. In earnest Indis prayed for the Queen. "Please let her live." Indis prayed. The night dragged on and her knees started to ache. Indis ignored the pain. It was likely less than what Miriel was experiencing. Indis lowered her head and continued praying. As the light from Laurelin rose above the horizon a horn sounded. The first sound in days caused everyone to raise their heads. Thundering out of the forest on their horses, banners flying proudly in the sky, were the Noldor. The leader descended his horse. King Ingwë arose and greeted him. Words were exchanged and the King turned. Dread. That was all Indis could feel. She knew the tiding even before the words left his mouth. "Queen Miriel was passed into Mandos. The Queen is dead." A cry from which Arda had never before heard pierced the day, Indis's voices among them.

Indis was not expected to pay her respects to the deceased Queen. But in the middle of night Indis slipped from her bedroom in Tirion and down to Yavanna's garden. Silently she slipped through the halls, undetected by the guards. Indis was not entirely sure why she was sneaking out so late. There was a hidden side door behind a statue of the dead Queen. Through the door she slipped and down a slopping passage she went. The gate creaked as she opened it and stepped out into the night air. Indis had arrived onto a stone path residing in the garden. Indis knew that Yavanna's was still a ways away. This small garden was nothing compared to the splendor of the Vala's large forest and meadows. Indis continued down the path. It lead to the exit and into woods. The woods were not dark and scary. Light came from Telperion and fireflies danced around her. A light breeze tickled Indis's skin and her white dress rustled ever so slightly. On and on she walked, until there came a clearing. This clearing had only grass and light pink flowers inhabiting it. A thrill passed through Indis at the pure beauty. Not even the most talented painter could capture this beauty. Light caught on the pink petals gave them a silver tinge. Like jewels they gleamed against a green backdrop. Her pale toes brushed against the grass.

Indis ran across the meadow. Her golden hair whipping behind. She extended her arms like a bird and felt that she was flying. For that moment Indis completely forgot her mission. When she reached the other side Indis nearly collapsed. So fast had she ran that her legs suddenly ached. Yet Indis did not regret it. A laugh passed Indis's lips as the brief excitement still coursed through her veins. A stump in the ground served as Indis's temporary chair. Sitting down she caught her breath. With a sigh Indis looked up at the sky. A light pink was appearing on the horizon. Soon it would be morning and they would discover she was gone. Looking back at the meadow Indis felt a sudden dom. The happiness she had so recently felt was banished. A shiver passed down her spine. Where this sudden feeling of doom came from she did not know. For a moment Indis was tempted to turn back. Getting up, she instead continued on her journey. Indis was not one to turn back.

Miriel's body lay on a marble platform. Red fabric separated her body from the cold stone. Cautiously Indis stepped forward. As she reached the body Indis felt the urge to curtsy. She wondered if Miriel could see her. What was it like to dwell in Mandos? Could you see Arda? Indis paid her respects before walking up.

There Miriel lay, dressed in all her Queenly splendor. She was dressed in silver, diamonds imbedded seamlessly into the fabric. A silver crown rested on her brow. Rubies decorated the crown giving the Queen a somber look. Miriel might have been sleeping, except there was no colour in her cheeks. Her lips were a light pink, but Indis could tell this was the result of paint. Leaning over Indis almost touched Miriel.

"Get away from her!" Indis nearly fell over in shock. Recoiling, Indis shrunk back. From the shadows emerged Finwë. The white hot anger of his face was alarming. His white and red robe swirled behind him like an angry storm as the King walked right up to her. His grey eyes, which before had been so kind now looked thunderous. The light shining off his eyes gave them a steely glint that shot shivers down Indis's spine. Finwë only stopped when he was inches from her. Indis was taller than most elleths. Even the males in her society sometimes had to look up. But Finwë was taller and in his ferocity Indis shrunk. Inches from her, Finwë only then stopped. When he spoke next Finwë did not shout. No, it was far worse than that. His next words were soft and cold. No hint of warmth emanated from the King now.

"I meant no disrespect, My King." It took everything for Indis to not flee from sheer panic. But Indis was a princess of the Vanyar, niece to a King. She could not falter in her representation of the family. "Spare me your pretenses, Princess. Leave my sight." No longer able to take it, Indis fled.

Indis did not venture back into the domain of King Finwë. Her heart ached with their parting, his cold gaze a pierce to the heart. A younger girl might have wept and cursed her unhappy fate. Yet Indis had grown. Adversity had made her stronger and she grew to accept this path. He might never love her, but she would show her love by staying away. Indis's love for the King was so great that she chose to place his happiness before her own. And so Indis resolved to take on the mantel of virginity and remain untethered. When King Olwë heard his nieces declaration he was dismayed. His sister on the other hand only lowered her head. With a heavy heart Indis begun to dance once more with a lightness she did not feel. While Indis once more danced he moves no longer held the youthful sway they once embodied. For Indis was no longer a young woman with no woes. Her danced light yet every step held a weight to them. A finality that spoke in every breath the Princess breathed. And so it was that Indis was prepared to fade into the background, relegated to a sad fate.

So it passed that King Finwë decided to mourn his wife in silence. His son Curufinwë was no longer a little boy. In a few years his son would be a young man. So the King decided it was time to take temporary leave of his heavy burden. The memory of Miriel remained pressing heavily. Every time he thought of silver she came to mind, leaving him in torment. Briefly he paid court to his long time friend King Olwë. Desiring some peace Finwë ventured into the forest. On foot he set out into the woods. Along a secluded path to went, sure in his lonesomeness. A shadow had started to spread over the forest casting Finwë into shadow. Telperion's light could be seen in the sky, dancing in a nighttime darkness. The coolness of the grass tickled his feet and fireflies made their scant appearances. The King was not afraid. In those days the first born children of Iluvatar had little to fear. Darkness held no fear at this time.

At some point, he was not sure when, Finwë begun to realize he was not alone. Just beyond was movement, fast and swift. A hum reverberated in his ears. So sweet was it that Finwë forgot his bearings. Venturing forward the King came upon a clearing. Dancing in the moonlight was a fair elf maiden. Tall and well built, her golden hair whipped in the wind, catching the light. Forgetting himself, Finwë stood there mesmerized. Her head whipped back and his eyes met hers. He had hardly cared to noticed another elf maids beauty since first laying eyes on Miriel. For the first time in centuries Finwë felt his fëa leap in his chest. The force of it left the King breathless and standing in wonder.

Indis had not been expecting any company, in fact she seldom did. Few ventured to these parts this late. So focused was she on the nighttime air, the cool grass beneath her feet and soft sounds of crickets, that Finwë's presence passed completely unnoticed. Not for much longer, however, would the King remain unseen. Turning with a flurry of golden hair Indis finally caught sight of him. Alarm nearly caused Indis to fall and in her shock darted into the woods. Blessed with strong legs Indis bolted out of the clearing in moments. "Wait!" The voice caused Indis to freeze. Had it been any other Indis might have completely disappeared into the shadows. Yet this one was a voice Indis had not hoped to see again. Heart pounding in her chest Indis carefully stepped back into the clearing. All common sense told her to walk away, to flee the presence of the King. In that moment Indis made a decision that changed the very fate of Arda. A decision that would echo down through the ages. Indis stepped back into the light and faced Finwë.

He was older than she remembered. Not in appearance, the Eldar were cursed in that regard, but in bearing. His very presence carried an essence of woe. Grey eyes that once captivated the Princess now resembled a stormy sea. Dark, lost and in need of calm. Slowly she stepped towards him. The King took one step towards her, careful, almost timid in bearing. Indis observed his creation and found herself stunned. This was not the indomitable King she remembered. Or the grieving widower. Before Indis stood a man weathering an internal storm. He had been stripped of his silver Queen and left to languish in darkness.

"I had not thought to see you in these parts." King Finwë's words were not simply a statement. For it was not just Indis that he saw, but the renewal of hope. Her golden hair emanated golden rays that transfixed the eye. Bronze eyes reminded him of sparkling gems. A white dress hung over a strong, lithe figure. Not since Miriel had such thoughts even begun to stir. Finwë's fëa reached out and touched his heart. The King finally closed the gap and without warning took Indis's finger in his own.

Indis's heart leapt in her throat. Everything seemed to spin before her. This had to be a dream sent by the Lord of Sleep. But Eru why would he! Yet she was all too aware of her presence in the waking world. Dreams did not make her feel suddenly cold. Nor the sensation of fingers against hers. Everything was present, she was awake. Indis knew she was not made. Say what one may but none had put her sanity to question. The King was looking at her as no one ever had. His grey eyes which last had been so steely were warm as a summers day. A warm white light seemed to radiate from her. Something prodded her fëa and Indis felt herself once more drawn.

The waking world was sweeter than any dream Irmo could have cast. From darkness in to blessed sunlight, Indis's would was brighter than ever before. For the first time the man who she had longer for loved her back. She was exalted above all others in both status and bliss. Yet the memory of Miriel hung over all their heads.

It was the one great cloud over their happiness. Indis cared not that people wondered why once more the king was getting married. What did concern her was Miriel's fëa. These days the queen dwelled in the Halls of Mandos. In this limbo she would stay until her re-embodying. When Finwë spoke to Manwë the King of the Valar gave a grave response. "If you shall take Indis the Fair to wife, then Miriel shall dwell in the Halls of Mandos forever more. One can not have two wives." Of course Miriel could some back. But such was the damage done to both body and soul that she could not. And so Finwë resolved to marry Indis.

With Manwë's blessing Indis was bound to Finwë. Now queen (although she cared little for the title) Indis was his wife. The word "wife" was so sweet to her. For so long she had consigned herself to loneliness and childlessness. Now she had it all. As Indis was proclaimed to all of Valinor her eyes went to Elemmë. While there was a smile upon her face, grey eyes told a different story. They reminded her of Mandos, a pronouncement of doom.

Not everyone was happy with these turn of events. Many still held dear the old queen. Some left Tirion, other lingered but still cared not for the one they called "usurper". The worst part was that Indis could not blame them. Although Miriel had chosen to remain behind, they had stripped her of any right to change. What if Miriel wanted to return? And now Indis sat upon the spoils of what had once been hers. She tried to ignore it, but the shadow of Miriel was always there.

None hated her more than Curufinwë, son of Miriel. A boy when they married, Curufinwë never warmed to his stepmother. At first Indis had tried to soften the boy's opinion of her. But Curufinwë made his stance clear. It did not stop at mere looks or whispering. He openly spoke against her and soon Indis grew to fear him. It was not just his general attitude that made her uneasy, but the power he seemed to hold over Finwë. Indis never doubted the love Finwë held for her, but it paled in comparison to the love he held for Indis. Sometimes Indis was surprised that Finwë still had enough love left in him for her. Whenever they came to blows, or rather when Curufinwë found a way to criticize Indis, Finwë would simply dismiss it as a child tantrum. But the older he became the more inexcusable Indis found it. She had tried to breech to topic with her husband multiple times, to no avail. They said that all the love Finwë bore for Miriel went to her son. Words could not express how this injured his second wife.

Indis had hoped things might change with the birth of their first child. Findis was born with her mothers bundle of golden hair but her fathers sliver eyes. Finwë was smitten by the birth of his girl. "She is as lovely as her mother." Exhausted from her ordeal, but happy, Indis could only smile. "She has your eyes, and nose I think." Finwë laughed and pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead. "I have always wanted a girl, you know. Curufinwë, why do you not great your sister?" No longer a little boy but nearing adulthood, Curufinwë stood there with a scowl upon his face. Instead of saying anything Curufinwë responded by storming off. Finwë was quick to put the baby in the arms of a nursemaid and hurry after his firstborn. Indis was left with a crying baby and confused nursemaid, feeling alone and hurt.

Sadly the birth of a second child, Nolofinwë, changed little. Admittedly she had named him in anger. His brother might be called "fiery Finwë", but her son would be called "second Finwë". Like his elder brother he sported the kings looks. It made the king more partial to him than Indis. This was not to say Finwë intentionally excluded his children. Indis had long since excepted that Miriel would always hold a special place in his heart. More children followed. Finwë favoured Nolofinwë and Írimë the most. Only Curufinwë was held in greater esteem.

Despite everything Indis had hoped things would change. Perhaps Curufunwë would outgrow his abrasiveness. This did not happen and the two eldest sons of Finwë were as different from each other as they were similar in looks. it worried Idnis when they would argue and Finwë would be forced to intervene. While he scolded Curufinwë as times he easily let it go. Indis took it upon herself to hold for Nolofinwë.

"Please! Finwë your eldest hates Nolofinwë." Finwë, who was walking up the stairs, shot her a look. "Interesting that you should refer to Curufinwë is my son, as if separating him from the rest of this family." he said coolly. Anger boiled within her. Indis had not meant it like that. She would have taken the boy as her own if he did not harbor such hatred. "You know very well that is not what I meant." Indis walked a few steps still she was face to face with him. "Nolofinwë is as much your son as Curufinwë is. Do not go accusing me of favouritism when you know fully well it is not I who holds one child above the rest."

Oh Eru she had finally said it, Indis had touched upon the one subject none dared. Finwë's love for his eldest touched upon far deeper issue. One that had haunted Indis since the beginning of their marriage. Finwë only shot her one last look before disappearing.

Later on her teary eyed oldest son would come and Indis would hug him close. if Finwë would not intercede on his behalf on his behalf she would.

When Indis heard that Curufinwë had drawn a sword upon her son and Finwë did nothing. Even when Nolofinwë had arrived first and plead his case, Finwë preferred Curufinwë. Even after drawing his sword. None had ever dared do such a thing in all of Valinor's history. His love for Curufinwë had blinded him to all else.

Indis sat in her drawing room waiting for her husband. All her ladies were dismissed, she did not want them to witness this. Anxiously her hands clenched together. Bordering on painful it paled in comparison to the torment of her heart. the normally immaculate Indis wore a dress of little beauty. Even her normally done up hair was left cascading down. She did not remotely look like the famed queen. The greatest sign of his was in her face. Pain was clearly written on the surface, blighting any vestige of the young girl she once was. Mostly clearly was it in the eyes.

She heard him coming down the hallway. Every step brought it closer. Her anger mounted as he came close. Finwë entered looking nearly as haggard as Indis felt. It did nothing to soften her feelings. Husband and wife only stared at each other and she was so very angry. Angry at Finwë for turning a blind eyes to his eldest's faults. Angry at Curufinwë for his cruelty to Nolofinwë. And she was also angry with herself. "I should have known." Indis felt like a fool. How could she have ever expected anything different? They all talked of the great love Finwë had for Miriel. Even when remarried it was clear Miriel hung the starts for him. had she truly grown up from the infatuated girl who carried feelings for an already married man? Indis dreadfully felt that this was a result of her foolish actions. "I knew it all and still married him." Maybe if she were still dancing in the forest she would be happy.

But she had chosen a different path. One of grief and suffering. Even when pinning for Finwë her pain had never been so great. Completely powerless, at least back then she could have walked away. Now she was stuck. "I see once more Curufinwë's transgressions will go unpunished by you." The Valar had decreed that Curufinwë would be exiled to Formenos for twelve years. Indis was not soothed by this. Not when Finwë's inaction had helped bring them all to this point. Indis was nearly taller than Finwë. Standing up she could look him straight in the eye. Attempting to compose herself Indis smoothed out her dress.

"Indis...." Finwë looked distressed, greatly so. Indis however stuck to her resolve. Now was not the time to falter. By Eru he would listen to her this time. "I know you love Curufinwë for than the rest. He is all you have of Miriel. I know that now. But you have gone too far. I will not have you ruining Nolofinwë. Or any of our other children. So I will ask you, if this continues, I want you to-" "I am leaving for Formenos." Indis nearly collapsed. She would have if pure shock had not rooted her to the stop. "Formenos...you are leaving us!" Finwë looked remorseful. the fair Indis, however, had no sympathy to spare. "Our children...what will they do without you?!" Finwë closed the gap and took her hand in his. " My wife, I am so sorry. For many years you have been a good wife. You have born me children and done all I asked of you." "So then why do you leave." Indis yanked her hands out of his grasp. "Curufinwë needs me too." "Always him! Always your first born! Fine. Leave! Go and do not come back for your presence is not wanted...or needed!"

With that, Indis left and did not look back.

"He will not return. Not until the sundering of the world and Mandos opens his gates." Varda's declaration send Indis's fëa plummeting to the deepest depths of sorrow. Without realizing she collapsed onto a chair. Her husband was gone beyond the veil.

The Queen was ill. When such tidings reached the Princesses ears Indis was confused. Words such ad "ill", while they existed, were not fully comprehended by the eldar. For elves did not sicken nor die. Such was the gift of Eru. Then her thoughts went to Finwë. Her heart had bled for this man and yet still she pitied him. Finwë had longed for a large family and then that dream seemed blessed his wife sickens. And the poor babe would be motherless. Her thoughts then turned to the new mother. Never to know her son. Indis might have resented the Queen, much to her great shame, but she never wanted her dead. She should have been allowed to live and walk among the shorts of Arda just as the Valar had promised.

"What do you mean father will never return!" Finarfin had to hold up his mother, whose legs had started to fail her. Varda looked upon her with compassion but it did nothing to banish the agony that ripped through Indis. Finwe, her King, husband, lover and father of her children had entered the halls of Mandos. Every elf, by the grace of Eru, came back to Arda once their time in Mandos was ended. By just as his first wife Miriel had chosen so long ago Finwe would turn his back on the chance for rebirth.

"Oh! To be so in love that I would give all my heart to him!"

Long ago a young beautiful princess who danced in her fathers halls and fields had made such a proclamation. "And what a fool she was." Thought Indis, a Queen with golden hair. The long curls of her hair was starting to grey. It was so faint and could only be seen in a certain light. Bronze eyes that once were so light now were dull with grief. The princess of bright gold was a queen, and an ember of her former self. Even when Arda was broken Finwë would chose Miriel.

Once Indis had been the happiest of the Vanyar. A princess bathed in gold dancing in the woods. Days were spent under the splendor of Laurelin, her feet feeling the warm grass beneath. She had given it all up for love.

Notes: Good God I've had this in my drafts for the better part of eight months. I plan on writing more for the Silmarillion fandom. My next one will probably be "Shadow of the Queen", discussing once more Indis. However this will be written with a focus on queenship and succeeding Miriel.

This story is biased towards Indis's point of view. Her views should not necessarily be taken as the absolute truth. This is not to say she is what we would call an unreliable narrator. But going forward this is how I will write one shots concerning Silmarillion characters which focus on a certain aspect of their life.

Indis is interesting because of the predicament she had been placed in. I think there are a lot of aspects to be explored regarding her character and relationships. Did Finwë love Indis? I think yes. But I also believe that his feelings for Miriel were stronger. I know Indis might have come off as slightly pathetic given her obsession with love. However this one-shot is based around loved, so hence the focus on romance. The whole love-at-first-sight was inspired by Beren and Luthien's story, except this one has a far more tragic ending.

Elemmë is the name I gave Indis's mother who canonically is unnamed. I am not sure if this name will stick, it may be changed later.

[aphfanficwriters]

Every month we will pose a question and collate responses as a fun and informal little exercise in getting to know each other and spark discussion. This month's question is:

“Are there any recurring themes in your fics?”

Lacy: sadly no. I jump from genres and ideas too much to have a reoccurring theme in fics. Maybe if i really want to pinpoint one, i do realise my longer fics always made use of science experiments to push the events of the stories.

Tama / @delgumofics: 🤔 probably that evil goes unpunished. Bad people in my fics almost never see justice. Sometimes it's implied that they'll get their just desserts somewhere down the line but it's never anything I focus on while writing.

Wasps / @petiolata: Taboo relationships. Deception. Selfishness. Attachment issues, trauma, and mental illness. Family. Maybe these don't count as themes but are rather just subjects? For something more complex, I guess you could say there is no sense of right and wrong in my stories, or of justice or meaning. Sometimes characters' bad actions blow up in their face, other times they're deliciously rewarded. With most of my stories, the intention is more to voyeuristically view events and characters and take what you want from it. Sometimes I try to capture a feeling or experience but I'm not trying to make some grand point to anyone.

@chibidashie: As most of my writing is sugary sweet, it's that everyone deserves to be loved and that imagination can quite literally take you places you'd never expect to visit in your life! As the funny horse show says in the title, friendship really is magic!!

Emil / @connorsandroids: I don't have any simple 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

@billowingangel: So far no there isn't any recurring themes in my stories. Maybe eventually though it could end up being love knows no bounds or some other cheesy romantic shit ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

@proosh: I find myself trying to approach the question of "what is a nation, anyway?" and all of my conclusions are varying shades of -- most of the time fairly abstract -- horror and that's what I like to dig into from a conceptual and thematic standpoint. Besides that, the recurring motifs of blood being both life and death keep cropping up in my writing, commonly as an extension and extrapolation of the previous question. On a less esoteric level I frequently end up touching on the themes of freedom and duty, and the interplay of power and violence. All of these feed into one another and become inextricably linked on a narrative and thematic level. We have fun here at Prush Studios :)

ciel / @torontofetish: i tend to explore identity and specifically identity loss and transformation. agency and control are also big themes i play around with, and the intersection of agency and identity is my sweet spot. what i write often ends with heavy sacrifice and the complex emotions that sacrifice goes hand in hand with. i ask who this character is, what defines them, and then i strip it away brutally to see what they can become without that identity to hide behind. for obvious reasons, most of my work can be considered horror.

Eru / @eruverse: I wonder if i have any. Actually if i write original stories i DO have it, but prob not for hetalia

Didi / @teaedon: death (mortality), loneliness. sometimes the crossing of boundaries, other times the corruption of love (obsession). probably more, idk

Mossman: Sex

@netherzon: Love/Romance in my fanfics since they’re mostly ship focused, but I have branched out with some of my more recent fics exploring themes like family, good and evil and in between, and how grief affects people

Yukihitomi / @arthurhonda: Super late to this but often the themes in my writing are love and loss.

WhiteWings / @smuttyandabsurd: I want to say a recurring theme in mine is loneliness and the insatiable need for human connection, but the unadorned truth is it's blowjobs 🌚