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#🖤✨
imbabyxo · 4 months
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💋✨
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sweetyoungk · 29 days
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cr. youngkcollect
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theywhodraws · 6 months
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It's this lil hunter's birthday today~
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Someone decided to gift them an eye patch~ 👀✨ that someone is whom Z considers as their older sister~
~~~~~
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Eye patch design & Rosamie belongs to ~ @justanaspiringsomeone ✨🖤
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asin-kurama · 10 months
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brian-visionnn · 2 months
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Can I come into your askbox and do this, or am I being weird about it?
*just wanted to say hi* 🤞
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I thought I answered u 💀
Yes, ofc, can I pat u and give u choco milk afterwards? :D
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cemetery-mary · 2 years
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Randolph Cemetery- Columbia, SC
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cliffdivingsblog · 7 months
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Consume
A Varda/Melkor romance
Chapter 3 • 11k words • Rated E
Using the @thehaladrielfancollective Kinktober Bingo prompts:
Blood play, Edge play, cuckholding, impact play, primal, hints of quirofilia and masochism (if you count him getting off on her nearly offing him)
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She is sobbing when her lips find his, sobbing into his mouth, the salt of her tears as bitter between them as all their regrets, her fingernails boring into his shoulders, as she presses herself against him, desperate for closeness despite it all.
“I hate you,” she presses out somewhere in between the madness.
I hate that I want you. I hate that I need you. I hate that… I love you.
“I know,” he answers, voice as rough as hers, taking everything she unleashes on him without complaint. “Maker, I know.”
Her hands tremble as she pulls the robe off his shoulders, kissing frantically down the pale line of his throat, then down his chest, finding only hard flesh beneath.
He is as efficient in undressing her, her cloak on the floor in moments, the glittering bodice joining it the moment he figured out how to open the clasp on her nape.
And then she is lifted up and gently deposited on the bed, her whole body shivering in such overwhelming need for him she feels as if she is going to die if she can’t have him right now.
“I want all of it tonight.” Melkor’s voice is soft as he crawls on top of her, the gentle rasp of a lover’s confession, intimate, needy, his eyes endless dark pools that suck her in. “All of you.”
A beat of silence, heavy with three endless ages filled with loneliness and longing. And then … “Please.”
Varda can sense how much that one word costs him, how he struggles with it, barely able to let it escape into the quiet between their minds where only she will ever hear it; she cannot remember him begging anyone else for anything ever before.
And she wants it, too. Wants it, needs it, craves it. So much that the persistent ache of that need eclipses everything else. Her doubts, her fears, her regrets.
She knows she shouldn’t. By the One she knows she shouldn’t.
But there is no hesitation in her as she reaches out to bridge the gap between them, her hand against his neck, catching the wild cadence of his pulse, of his life, not able to resist the urge to drown in it.
“Then take it all.”
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imbabyxo · 3 months
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🏴‍☠️✨
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maialadiosa · 8 days
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Mother 🖤
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gee-gamall · 9 months
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Get attacked!! 💛🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈💛
Ahhh you are so sweet
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brian-visionnn · 3 months
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giving you a goodnight kiss on your forehead (I just wanted to say hello) 🩷
awwwwwww, thanks for the greeting <3✨ I'm tucking u in ur bed and give u hot Nesquik 🖤✨
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cemetery-mary · 2 years
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Riverside Cemetery- Asheville NC
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cliffdivingsblog · 6 months
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Consume
Chapter 4 • 12k words • Rated E
A Melkor/Varda romance
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One thing that has always both fascinated and vexed Varda about Melkor is how unpredictable he is. His moods as tempestous and ever-changing as Ulmo’s seas, his passions ignited as easily as his wrath.
Where his lingering anger at her has been simmering underneath the surface only a moment ago he is all insolent, relaxed amusement now she is the one annoyed at him. Fanning the flames of her ire only higher.
“We should do something about your hair. It is quite scandalously disheveled for the Queen of the Valar, ” he comments with a smirk, when she closes her soft, pale blue cloak around her carefully, making sure no sliver of skin shows as she did not slip on the diamond bodice Nerdanel gifted to her.
As beautiful as the garment looked on her, she cannot say she cared for the lack of comfort the gemstones pressing into her flesh meant.
She could summon up another dress of course. But a wild, reckless part of her is quite content with the exquisite thrill her daring attire provides.
“What admirable sense of decorum you posses, Belekôrôz.” Varda lets her eyes rake over his haphazardly fastened robe and the planes of pale skin it reveals. It seems far more suited for the bedroom than stepping outside. “If only you would apply it to your own behavior one day.”
He laughs, stepping closer to her, one raven eyebrow raising playfully. “But who would even look at me with your radiant beauty at my side? I am but a humble servant to your splendor, my Queen.”
“Flattery?” Varda scoffs rather inelegantly. “You think I am susceptible to that?”
His smile deepens as he reaches for her, pulling her against him. “Come here.”
She does not fight his grip although she knows she should, too preoccupied with the surprisingly tender way his fingers comb through her unruly red locks. “Really, how do you always manage to tangle it so thoroughly?”
“You tangled it.” She retorts a little petulantly, aware that somehow his hair stayed admirably presentable. She suspects he is using some dark magic to achieve that feat, the cunning bastard. Her eyes close in unapologetic bliss as he starts to massage her scalp, his touch sinfully relaxing.
For a while she allows herself to bask in the feeling of it all, their peaceful moment of quiet, his warmth and scent all around her, a tenderness in him she knew is there but did not really expect to ever experience again.
“So who of the two of you thought up your little game of deception?” Melkor’s voice is light, no indication he cares about the answer in his continuously gentle touch.
The illusion wavers only moments later, his hand upon her nape a little too forceful, the faintest hint of claws whispering over the sensitive skin there as he adds. “My brother?”
Of course he is unable to grant her even one single moment of lasting peace.
She sighs, forcing herself to stay relaxed and pliant, even if goosebumps rise on her skin. “It was never as nefarious as you make it out to be. He merely asked me to keep you company in the beginning.”
At the disbelieving scoff above her she adds, more than a little haltingly. “It was only when we… when we got closer to each other he suggested to … to let it continue since it seemed to give you a reason to stay.”
She is floundering, Varda realizes, both because she was never sure about Manwë’s true motivation, has never dared to probe too deeply, and because she knows her own reasons are far from pure.
She wanted it all. Then, and if she is truthful to herself, now.
Keep him. Indulge in this madness between them and quiet every faint whisper of caution that remains.
That is the reason why she agreed without any objection when Manwë suggested this deception. No more so, she did so eagerly.
Because it allowed her the illusion she could touch the darkness without any consequences, without ever having to rebel outright, without having to risk everything.
Perhaps Melkor is right to despise her for that. For always daring too much and yet never enough.
She was tempted. More than once. More often than she likes to admit. Sometimes she thinks she is tempted every moment of every single day.
“Stay and behave, you mean,” the soft whisper is at odds with his actions, his fingers playing with the fastenings of her cloak teasingly.
“That’s debatable,” Varda answers, resolutely rebinding every knot he tugs open to reveal the skin underneath.
“Well, how terribly generous of my brother,” his hands return to her hair, his voice crackling with sudden ice. “And you were completely fine with him whoring you out?”
“That is not what happened…” The cruel accusation sparks her own ire. “I came to your bed quite willingly.”
Varda realizes her mistake the moment his delighted laugh sounds out. “Oh believe me, I know.”
Maker, does he have to sound so insufferable smug about it?
Of course he has to. Sometimes she wonders if the sole thing in his existence he finds joy in is vexing her.
Besides destroying things.
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darksmithies · 1 year
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imbabyxo · 3 months
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☠️✨
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