Melkor no

Manwë:

Manwë: Language!

Eönwë: Whomst the actual sexual intercourse-

Manwë: Language!

Eönwë: Whomst the actual sexual intercourse-

♕: Holding hands

♖: Having their hair washed by your muse

♗: Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse's lap.

♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort

♙: Sharing a bed

♚: Head scratches

♛: Sharing a dessert

♜: Shoulder rubs

♝: Reading a book together

♞: Caring for each other while ill (specify which party is which)

♟: Patching up a wound

♤: Taking a bath together

♧: Your muse playing with their hair

♡: Accidentally falling asleep together

♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

♠: Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

♣: Back scratches

♥: Your muse crying about something

;; My apologies for being kind of hidden and selective.  Work has been kicking my ass and our busiest season is getting ready to begin in a couple weeks… on top of all that, it’s been hell on my mental peace… tranquility… whatever.  I’ll probably continue to be on limited activity until probably midway through March.

If you want to get in contact with me, I’ll always be on IMs and my Discord is available upon request.

— 〆 for a childhood story — ღ for a drabble about a romance/their love life — ⌆ for a story about their family/home life — € for a bad memory that still haunts them — ✢ for a good memory that makes them smile

Or…

✿  five times my muse almost texted yours, and the one time they did.

▲  five time my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did.

☠  five times my muse thought about hitting yours, and the one time they did.

★  five times my muse though yours looked breath-taking, and the one time they voice it.

❤  five times my muse says they don’t love yours, and the one time they admit it.

▼  five times my muse has caught yours getting off, and the one time they help out.

♫  five times my muse swears it’s not a date, and the one time it maybe is.

☪  five times our muses almost hold hands, and the one time they do.

☁  five times my muse has thought about yours, and the one time they do something about it.

Send “@” for a SCARED text.

“I never want you to have to see that woman again.” He didn’t know where they were going, only that it had to be anywhere but here.

“Years,” Manwë tells his brother, “He still goes to put flowers on your grave, he hasn’t replaced you.” The baby cooed, reaching to play his father’s fingers. “I don’t think he ever could. He loves you too much, but he has found happiness and love with someone else. Tyelperinquar helped him accept your death… helped him get clean too. I think you’d be proud of him… and I think you’d like Tyelperinquar. He’s nice… and he loves Maironmore than anything.”

The possession. The sadness. The desire.

“I suppose it would be best to leave him be.” he decided, in what Eru would claim to be the most mature thing Melkor had said in his entire existence. 

He’s better off without me.

But oh, how it hurt.

But now, manifested once more, most of his time spent in death was just out of reach, like a forgotten dream.

“He will find his way back to me.” he said, quietly now. “He always does.” But the wait was miserable.

Mairon was happy. Manwe was happy.

But I am meant to suffer.

“I love you too, Melkor,” he stepped in, careful to mind the child in Melkor’s arms and embraced his brother.  “If you need it, you will always have a home with us,” Manwë told him.  The toddler hugged his uncle too.

Manwë slouched into the warm body beside him, mind hazy with drink.  He’d been trying to explain the mechanics behind birds (they go flap flap and move through the air and sometimes are fuzzy floofs!) but drowsiness pulled at him until his drink had been settled on the coffee table and he curled up beside his companion.

“Y’know… wish I could talk… to… to… Var’a like this.  Or tha’ she wanted t’ go flying sometimes,” he grumbled, “I like flying, an’ sometimes i’s fun t’ fly with someone else.  I wanna fly whenever I want… but I can’t… ‘cause I have res… re-res-so-pon’s’bilities…”

“Years,” Manwë tells his brother, “He still goes to put flowers on your grave, he hasn’t replaced you.” The baby cooed, reaching to play his father’s fingers. “I don’t think he ever could. He loves you too much, but he has found happiness and love with someone else. Tyelperinquar helped him accept your death… helped him get clean too. I think you’d be proud of him… and I think you’d like Tyelperinquar. He’s nice… and he loves Maironmore than anything.”

The possession. The sadness. The desire.

“I suppose it would be best to leave him be.” he decided, in what Eru would claim to be the most mature thing Melkor had said in his entire existence. 

He’s better off without me.

But oh, how it hurt.