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@hisroyalguard
Who is Malfinnor? He's mentioned in Maeg's timeline in the about tags but the link about him dying in the marshes doesn't work?
//Malfinnor (Quenya name Tatyaró) is Maegcalen's younger and only brother. Much of his traits are similar to their paternal side.
Also, thanks for informing me that link is broke! I'll go fix it now!
Hi, do you have an about page or a post with information on your muse?
//Yes! Info can be found at https://hisroyalguard.tumblr.com/tagged/about and I'm always updating it to make Maegs more developed as a character :)
you can always ask me questions too!
"It's just... When did it all get so fucking hard?"
GHOST OF TSUSHIMA ➔ scenery ♾️
You don't belong to this world
You cannot find your place.....
“Can you tell me how you ended up in my dungeons?” @kingofthemirkwoodelks
His Majesty King Thranduil was not a person to be trifled with, and whatever answer Maegcalen came out with was sure to be the wrong one. In any case, he had never had direct contact with royalty before, and trying to shape an appropriate response was going to be interesting.
Instead, he mulled over what would be the most sensible option as he kept his gaze transfixed on the floor three feet away, wondering just how much had already been spoken to the King, and just how it came about that a resident of Imladris was now hosted in his dungeons.
"What!" he snarled once more, his anger quickly rising at the smallest of trifles, and he turned his head to glare at Thranduil, strands of hair draped over his face.
He made to stand up, but having ropes bound tightly about his arms and torso, he wasn't as quick as he could have been.
“Can you tell me how you ended up in my dungeons?” @kingofthemirkwoodelks
His Majesty King Thranduil was not a person to be trifled with, and whatever answer Maegcalen came out with was sure to be the wrong one. In any case, he had never had direct contact with royalty before, and trying to shape an appropriate response was going to be interesting.
Instead, he mulled over what would be the most sensible option as he kept his gaze transfixed on the floor three feet away, wondering just how much had already been spoken to the King, and just how it came about that a resident of Imladris was now hosted in his dungeons.
The pain from being punished would soon follow, but Thranduil was a gracious enough lover to ease his bed partners into it. He noticed Maeg starting to get hard & knew he was starting to submit.
Straining against the ropes that ran around his arms and torso, he judged their strength was adequate enough, but perhaps could have been a little tighter.
Not many possessed the same intrigues as Maegcalen, and secretly he liked to feel the pain - to suffer brutality in the throws of ecstacy. His body only numbed to it, allowing the experience to be like nothing he felt before. Only the savagery of battle came a close second.
And causing the ropes to snag his skin, to grasp harder as he braced against them, and with hands running over his body, he finally began to relax.
He could feel the tension beginning to leave Maeg, knowing that would help everything go smoother. Thranduil reached a hand down & gave his ass cheeks a firm squeeze then another swift smack. That dying would be nothing compared to what the paddle was able to leave behind.
“This is what you were made for, isn’t it?”
Maegcalen frowned, unseen by Thranduil at the squeeze, then jolted and hummed a growl at the smack. Part of him hated the entire ordeal. It was embarrassing, foul and wretched. Yet at the same time the bondage and pain soon to follow would hopefully be worth his time and bring him pleasure.
But at the comment from the King, Maegcalen frowned again. "I wasn't made to be beaten like a fucking dog, Your Majesty." he hissed sarcastically.
All these gentlemen were drawn as part of the Gondolin Gang series for intea (my deep gratitude for this opportunity and inspiration ♥). Of course I will draw the remaining two, but now I want to show the finished ones 😃
I tried to draw different but stylistically similar and simple outfits, hairstyles and faces, so that one could believe that they live at the same time and in the same place, being in an everyday (medieval) environment - most of them had small bags for small things and clothes whose fit is regulated by a belt and not by patterns.
Egalmot got the most complex background - there's a cat there, did you see it? 🐈
Who do you like the most and who has the coolest handbag? 🙂👀
Look me in the eyes when you're doing nasty things to me.
In the void of those eyes, I could only see the misery.
In the depth of those thoughts, I could only taste the wrath.
~ kaushiki
My blogs:
FeanorionRage - Multimuse roleplay Tolkien blog plus fanfics, edits and everything else.
Sideblogs: FeanorionRage-Shitposting - Ramblings and hot takes MaiarAsura - Ainu servant of Mandos defected over to Melkor
HisRoyalGuard - Noldor elf OC roleplay blog encompassing The Silmarillion all the way through to The New Shadow
Back to the landscapes to clear my mind (Please, do not repost)
“Can you tell me how you ended up in my dungeons?” @kingofthemirkwoodelks
His Majesty King Thranduil was not a person to be trifled with, and whatever answer Maegcalen came out with was sure to be the wrong one. In any case, he had never had direct contact with royalty before, and trying to shape an appropriate response was going to be interesting.
Instead, he mulled over what would be the most sensible option as he kept his gaze transfixed on the floor three feet away, wondering just how much had already been spoken to the King, and just how it came about that a resident of Imladris was now hosted in his dungeons.
The pain from being punished would soon follow, but Thranduil was a gracious enough lover to ease his bed partners into it. He noticed Maeg starting to get hard & knew he was starting to submit.
Straining against the ropes that ran around his arms and torso, he judged their strength was adequate enough, but perhaps could have been a little tighter.
Not many possessed the same intrigues as Maegcalen, and secretly he liked to feel the pain - to suffer brutality in the throws of ecstacy. His body only numbed to it, allowing the experience to be like nothing he felt before. Only the savagery of battle came a close second.
And causing the ropes to snag his skin, to grasp harder as he braced against them, and with hands running over his body, he finally began to relax.
“Can you tell me how you ended up in my dungeons?” @kingofthemirkwoodelks
His Majesty King Thranduil was not a person to be trifled with, and whatever answer Maegcalen came out with was sure to be the wrong one. In any case, he had never had direct contact with royalty before, and trying to shape an appropriate response was going to be interesting.
Instead, he mulled over what would be the most sensible option as he kept his gaze transfixed on the floor three feet away, wondering just how much had already been spoken to the King, and just how it came about that a resident of Imladris was now hosted in his dungeons.
Being so close it was easy for Thranduil to see the light-glimmer of The Two Trees in Maegcalen's green eyes - a clear indicator of just how old he was.
Though for all his age and supposed wisdom, he still would not make anything easier for himself.
"Make me," he hissed.
“Mm you should know your place: on your knees, mouth full of my cock to keep you quiet. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
"Fuck you, Your Majesty," he snipped, arms now tightly bound in a careful arrangement of ropes. "Try that and I'll bite the fucking thing off."
“One more snide remark out of you & you’re getting the paddle.”
Maegcalen's eyebrow twitched and he let out a noiseless long exhale, glaring at the King with narrowed eyes.
Truthfully, he couldn't decide if he was pissed off, impressed or turned on by the King's tenacity.
Once thoroughly pleased with how secure the ropes were & knowing the knots wouldn’t easily come undone, he took hold of Maeg’s chin once more before claiming his lips in a deep kiss. “Try to be a good boy for me.”
Almost six thousand years of servitude in armies of the Noldor had moulded Maegcalen into a mostly compliant soldier and guardsman, especially when explicit orders were given.
And so with parted lips and narrowed eyes he repeated his trained response.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
He led Maegs over to the bed & bent him over one side of it, pressing his chest into the cool sheets & comforter below, leaving his back & everything else exposed. “Once I’m done giving you the appropriate number of spanks, if you’re still good for me, then I’ll give you a reward.”
Maegcalen's only response was to huff a growl into the sheets. He was horribly exposed and hoped the King would only do as he expected. At least, regarding inserting anything into him. There was still no telling whatever else the King had lined up for him.
Before taking hold of the paddle, which was lying off to the side, Thranduil slowly ran his hands down Maeg’s back, sides, everywhere he could touch exposed skin. A slim finger ran down his spine, feeling the nerves flutter under the skin.
Maegcalen turned his head away so the King could not see his face. He would not allow the bastard to enjoy it too much.
But the delicate touch mingled with the promise of pain warmed his core, and lazily his cock began to stiffen.
