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@auhurog
“Well, you know - fuck the Valar. Except don’t, I bet they’re terrible in bed, says Loki.”
— Leave of Absence
@easterlingwanderer
“absolutely HORRID”
"On the other hand, I imagine they give exceptional courting gifts. It might be worth it."
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How sexy is your name?
Add the letters in your first name using the numbers below =) - Under 60 points= NOT TOO SEXY - Between 61-300 points= PRETTY SEXY - Between 301-599 points= VERY SEXY - Over 600= THE ULTIMATE SEXIEST
A=100 B=14 C=9 D=28 E=145 F=12
G=3 H=10 I=200 J=100 K=114 L=100 M=25
N=450 O=80 P=2 Q=12 R=400 S=113 T=405
U=11 V=10 W=10 X=3 Y=210 Z=23
Don’t forget to add your name and your total!!!
“Hmmm. A, U, H... Ha! 615! I am the ultimate sexiest! And my @easterlingwanderer... goodness. You’ve more then doubled my score, even without the “the.””
*considers*
“This is as it should be.”
→ Fairest and wisest race
“They be considered (by themselves) tah fairest and wisest race”
the Wanderer <.<
*dragony giggle* Imagine trying to claim that honor over dragons. Ridiculous. Don’t you think?
“Oh aye. Yer kin wins it by all tah miles mah lovely”
*nuzzles* “It’s a shame most humans are so very silly and dull; if you were my only example, I should say that humans rank higher than elves.”
→ Fairest and wisest race
“They be considered (by themselves) tah fairest and wisest race”
the Wanderer <.<
*dragony giggle* Imagine trying to claim that honor over dragons. Ridiculous. Don’t you think?
Some AU where Mairon finds a baby dragon in late Second Age or Third Age.
@easterlingwanderer
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Mun Communication meme;; These are meant to start a conversation, please don’t use this as an excuse for hate!
💖 Your muse is someone I generally/already ship with mine but I want to get to know your portrayal
💦 I’m afraid I’ll break one of your rules! [be sure to specify/feel free to ask more about it]
🧪 I want to RP a sensitive topic with you/your muse and I’m not sure how you’d feel about it.
📌 Your reply is stuck in my drafts but I’d like to start something new (or talk about it first)
🍕 There’s something I need to know about your portrayal/muse before I write with you
❔ I’m not in the mood for big things at the moment, asks are just easier for me
🌹 My muse is getting attached to yours since following you (interactions or not) and I need to tell you how they feel
🍰 I have a cute idea for our muses, how do we make it happen?
🕶 I just want to know everything about your muse, but I don’t want to seem clingy/nosy
🥐 You almost broke my rules(or you did and I didn’t tell you), could you please refrain from doing [thing] ?
💫 I can’t keep up with your blog/shenanigans/etc. but I love what you’re doing!
⏰ You RP lots of time sensitive things and I’m either busy or feel I’m too late. Maybe we can do something less so?
💢 tumblr messed with my ability to reply (app crash, technical difficulties, etc.) and I’m just so mad/I’m having technical difficulties
🌌 I’m actually in the mood to write an AU of my muse in your fandom/verse instead of canon/my main! Any tips or ideas?
🎨 You RP subjects I’m inexperienced with, but want to get better! Help!
🎊 Sometimes you just make me so happy I don’t know what to do. Oops.
🧵 In our current thread/your writing, I’d like you to write about/describe [specify thing]
🎶 I really tend to space off sometimes and do my own thing, it’s not you!
🌟 You’re very good at writing a certain subject and I just want to see more of it
auhurog:
Auhurog barely spares the cart a glance (though she does glance; she is a dragon) before coming to the man and gently, delicately sweeping him up in her claws. All she says in answer is, “You are not all right.”
It is a strange cage, something most men and not men of middle earth would consider frightening. Dragon claws. But the Wanderer just sighs and closes his eyes, his lips quirking up a little.
He looks up with affection at the dragon, snuggling amidst the least pointy and sharp parts.
“Nae. I… hurt. Ye ken me lovely, how oor past has left me. A bit broken up. It’ll pass.” He replies, softly. He moves stiffly too, favoring his back, clearly in some sort of pain still.
She growls and clutches him against her chest, then starts for the cave. “You should not leave. You should stay here. You know I will hunt for you. For everything you need. There’s no reason to go off and come back hurt.”
Auhurog’s scales are warm, and surprisingly soft. The man sighs and puts hie had on her chest as she moves, rather awkwardly, toward the cave.
“Aye I ken. But who would get ye yer shinies otherwise, uh?” He says, softly.
“Nobody.”
She brings him to the walled-off corner of the cave, to the bed of furs and pillows, the bookshelves old and new. She lays him down in the softest spot she can find, then settles herself, chin on the floor, eyes on him.
auhurog:
Auhurog barely spares the cart a glance (though she does glance; she is a dragon) before coming to the man and gently, delicately sweeping him up in her claws. All she says in answer is, “You are not all right.”
It is a strange cage, something most men and not men of middle earth would consider frightening. Dragon claws. But the Wanderer just sighs and closes his eyes, his lips quirking up a little.
He looks up with affection at the dragon, snuggling amidst the least pointy and sharp parts.
“Nae. I… hurt. Ye ken me lovely, how oor past has left me. A bit broken up. It’ll pass.” He replies, softly. He moves stiffly too, favoring his back, clearly in some sort of pain still.
She growls and clutches him against her chest, then starts for the cave. “You should not leave. You should stay here. You know I will hunt for you. For everything you need. There’s no reason to go off and come back hurt.”
@easterlingwanderer
It had been days and days and days. There was a corner of Au’s mind where she was aware of the exact count, where the dates were penned in elegant looping script, marked in months and weeks and hours of the day; but the part of her that was currently stomping through the cave cared only that it was too long.
The warm and firelit rooms at one end of the cave had been stocked with food and firewood, then restocked with better food (from a mayor’s larder) and more sweetly scented wood (from a fine old orchard), then rearranged to better take advantage of the winter light which came down through gaps in the stone, then filled those gaps with panes of glass (which an inn was certain to miss). Then she had replaced the rug with thick, luscious furs and, for good measure, heaped furs and new cushions (from the mayor’s house again) on the bed as well. Then she had taken down a wall and rebuilt it to make room for a new bookshelf (made from some finely grained planks off a merchant’s cart), which she had filled up one third of the way with books scavenged from everywhere books could be found.
The surrounding villages lived in fear of her agitation, and she was sourly glad of it. If she was in a foul temper so should they be.
And then he comes back.
There is a slow rumbling that hints at his coming. The sound of a cart making its way up, filled to the brim with something tingling and jiggling.
Metals.
And the closer he comes the more the dragon can… feel… him. Something is not right, a sort of aching panthom pain in his soul.
(The reason of his disappearance?)
The Wanderer stops the cart in front of the cave, looking in with weary eyes.
“… Auhurog? Me lovely?” He asks, softly, knowing he’ll be heard.
He will have felt the lurch of excitement that shakes her, how the ache of missing him has haunted her; he must know the first thing she wants to do is press her face into him. But she doesn’t do that. Instead she saunters to the mouth of the cave, where she sits without looking at him, for all the world like a massive cat.
“You’re back already?” she asks, a petulant note in her voice. “Goodness, you only just left.”
In spite of the lingering pain in his eyes and the ache of bones and muscles he smiles at the dragon, pure affection in his eyes.
“Aye I brought some gifties ta ye.” He says, gesturing to the full cart. Full of gold and silver and jewels.
Then, more softly still.
“You alright my lovely?”
Auhurog barely spares the cart a glance (though she does glance; she is a dragon) before coming to the man and gently, delicately sweeping him up in her claws. All she says in answer is, “You are not all right.”
@easterlingwanderer
It had been days and days and days. There was a corner of Au’s mind where she was aware of the exact count, where the dates were penned in elegant looping script, marked in months and weeks and hours of the day; but the part of her that was currently stomping through the cave cared only that it was too long.
The warm and firelit rooms at one end of the cave had been stocked with food and firewood, then restocked with better food (from a mayor’s larder) and more sweetly scented wood (from a fine old orchard), then rearranged to better take advantage of the winter light which came down through gaps in the stone, then filled those gaps with panes of glass (which an inn was certain to miss). Then she had replaced the rug with thick, luscious furs and, for good measure, heaped furs and new cushions (from the mayor’s house again) on the bed as well. Then she had taken down a wall and rebuilt it to make room for a new bookshelf (made from some finely grained planks off a merchant’s cart), which she had filled up one third of the way with books scavenged from everywhere books could be found.
The surrounding villages lived in fear of her agitation, and she was sourly glad of it. If she was in a foul temper so should they be.
And then he comes back.
There is a slow rumbling that hints at his coming. The sound of a cart making its way up, filled to the brim with something tingling and jiggling.
Metals.
And the closer he comes the more the dragon can… feel… him. Something is not right, a sort of aching panthom pain in his soul.
(The reason of his disappearance?)
The Wanderer stops the cart in front of the cave, looking in with weary eyes.
“… Auhurog? Me lovely?” He asks, softly, knowing he’ll be heard.
He will have felt the lurch of excitement that shakes her, how the ache of missing him has haunted her; he must know the first thing she wants to do is press her face into him. But she doesn’t do that. Instead she saunters to the mouth of the cave, where she sits without looking at him, for all the world like a massive cat.
“You’re back already?” she asks, a petulant note in her voice. “Goodness, you only just left.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
@easterlingwanderer
It had been days and days and days. There was a corner of Au’s mind where she was aware of the exact count, where the dates were penned in elegant looping script, marked in months and weeks and hours of the day; but the part of her that was currently stomping through the cave cared only that it was too long.
The warm and firelit rooms at one end of the cave had been stocked with food and firewood, then restocked with better food (from a mayor’s larder) and more sweetly scented wood (from a fine old orchard), then rearranged to better take advantage of the winter light which came down through gaps in the stone, then filled those gaps with panes of glass (which an inn was certain to miss). Then she had replaced the rug with thick, luscious furs and, for good measure, heaped furs and new cushions (from the mayor’s house again) on the bed as well. Then she had taken down a wall and rebuilt it to make room for a new bookshelf (made from some finely grained planks off a merchant’s cart), which she had filled up one third of the way with books scavenged from everywhere books could be found.
The surrounding villages lived in fear of her agitation, and she was sourly glad of it. If she was in a foul temper so should they be.
The Wanderer, Maedhros, and a bunch of tiny dragonlings for @easterlingwanderer
LOOK AT THEM CUDDLING AND HOLDING HANDS WITH THE BABIES ALL AROUND LOOK LOOK IT IS A PERFECT WANDERER i love one (1) ugly son :D :D :D :D :D
ALSO THIS IS MY ACCIDENTAL-MARRIAGE-OPS-OTP xD
@auhurog THESE ARE THEM BABBIES
eeeeeeeeeee~! They are PERFECT!
@easterlingwanderer
The dragon eyes the Wanderer with interest. The man has a mug of something which smells sharply and which he is evidently enjoying.
“I have never had wine,” she says. “Or beer or strong drink of any kind. What is it like?”
The man grins up at Auhurog, walking closer and letting her smell the alcohol.
“… Peculiar. It burn yer throat a bit when ye swallow, and taste likes liquid ice.” He says, after a second. “And some are bitter but I prefer tah sweet ones. Wanna try, me lovely?”
She gives a chuckle and settles onto the ground beside him. “There would be too little even for me to taste.”
@easterlingwanderer
The dragon eyes the Wanderer with interest. The man has a mug of something which smells sharply and which he is evidently enjoying.
“I have never had wine,” she says. “Or beer or strong drink of any kind. What is it like?”
auhurog:
“Hungry,” she confirms, though she can sense him sensing her. There is something… satisfying… about that, about the completeness of the circle, about seeing and being seen. She makes a soft sound, a quiet chuff of contentment. Then she folds herself onto the bed the man has made, confident that he will bring her meat.
He does, in fact, bring her meat. It takes a bit of time, to undo one of the cairn of stones with his stiff, burn hands. Inside there is a haunch of dried venison, the whole back leg. He also takes some rose hips and dried figs. Dragons are carnivore, but she has no guts, and she likely needs them too. He munchs on some figs himself as he drag the haunch toward Auhurog.
Likely the bone is good for her.
He puts it close by, with the rose hips and the dried figs. He eats some more himself, and puts himself full length by her, close to her flank.
He closes his eyes.
“Name?” He asks, still rough, chewing slowly and painfully.
Though the knowledge is inborn, she has to think a moment, pausing over the deer haunch where she'd been tearing at it. "Auhurog," she says at last, and with the name comes knowledge through the bond: a snowscape in sunlight, cold and brilliant and untouched, black dirt and blue shadows under a blanket of white.
"You?" she asks, still not eating. She turns to survey him with bloodshot grey eyes.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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auhurog:
“I do not want to move,” Auhurog grumbles. Periodic spasm still shake her, though they are less insistent and less painful than before. “And you need as much rest as I do.”
The man shakes his head, his curls too matted with sweat to dance as usual.
“Ye need it more. Tell me when ye be hungry.”
He replies, and takes up the big sheet of absorbent cloth he had prepared for this reason and starts to clean Auhurog, then the eggs. He moves with care, stumbling and wavering a bit, evidently tired and in pain still. He caresses the eggs and the dragon both with evident care and love, and his bond with Auhurog is shining with affection and… determination. To be here with her. To HELP.
The dragon does not speak, slipping toward sleep, but her feelings return through their bond: satisfaction and happiness and deep, glowing gratitude. She sweeps out a wing and settles it carefully over man and eggs both, and gives a soft, affectionate rumble.
baby dragons that sleep in your fireplace and roll about in the soot and the ash trying to get comfortable on burning logs, screeching loudly whenever people walk by or when more logs need to be added to its roost and not stopping until content again
baby dragons with wings that are disproportionate to their bodies until older but nonetheless stubbornly trying to pick themselves up off the ground by running and aggressively flapping and managing to only get a few feet off the ground for a few seconds before crash landing
baby dragons that haven’t been exposed to priceless things such as gems and gold pieces and instead infatuate themselves with other unusual shiny things — like silverware, brass clocks, instruments, and pots and pans
baby dragons who get cold in the winter and crawl up into their caretaker’s clothing (almost always while said clothing is being worn) and curl up as tight as possible and begin to make sounds similar to content purring as they sleep
baby dragons making whiny hungry bird noises until they’re fed
baby dragons being afraid of the family cat for a while until after a few days the cat wanders up to the sleeping pile of scales and fire and curling around them for a nap in the sunshine
baby dragons stealing the shiny car keys and chewing on them
baby dragons gently nibbling on the jewelry of their favorite people- and not so gently with people they don’t like
baby dragons blowing tiny puffs of smoke out their noses when they snore
baby dragons using the cat’s scratching post
baby dragons wearing tiny saddles with knight-in-shining-armour action figures riding on their backs
baby dragons roasting mini marshmallows mid-air when you toss them before eating them
baby dragons hiding on top of bookshelves and cabinets when they don’t want to go to the vet
baby dragons having to be trained to shed the soot and ash from the fireplace before climbing into bed w/ their owner (If you scratch them at the base of the spine just above the tail their scales rustle and vibrate)
baby dragons having to learn a proper hoard size, collecting everything they can (silverware, trinkets) until they have enough items and enough quality items to be picky and choosy, ending up with a main hoard and ‘spills’ of subpar items that are cast aside, piles of outgrown and inferior treasures
baby dragons on shoulders wrapping their tails around their owners arms for comfort and curiosity, isosceles tip tapping with interest at knuckles and figures to see what’s going on
baby dragons winding around ankles like cats
baby dragons hypnotizing birds, lizards, mice, other small animals, playing with them and play-hunting
baby dragons playing with fire, blowing gently on candles to make them flicker and then huffing them out, attempting to relight them, bringing small items to toast and light aflame (its considered wise to let them play with fire to learn discipline and how it works before they can produce it at will)
baby dragons using their claws and teeth on scratching posts and wood furniture, but also scratching their scales against rough surfaces, abrading treetrunks and scratching against table corners
baby dragons purring and rumbling and it sounding almost like metal grinding
baby dragons swallowing stones to help digestion and grind up food, baby dragons spitting out little owl pellets of fur and bone cause they cant pass them yet
baby dragons curling up with each other and getting tangled up and their spikes and scales hooked together while sleeping
baby dragons <3
@nyodrite highly relevant and very important
@melkors-ass
V. important.
