YAIWË also known as GAB

♪ ♫ Accepts Puns as Tribute ♪ ♫ | Indie RP blog for a Tolkien OC | FC: Ezra Miller Mun & Muse are 18+ | Crossovers and AUs Welcome | Ask OPEN| Maia of Aulë | Gobshite | Protector of Durin's Folk | tracking tag: maiaofsass | M!A:None. Offer a good pun often and your forge will burn clean and bright and your weapons will know no wear.

[maiaofsass]

Don't worry Langon. Any one else will...pale in comparison to you.

[desimalemodels]

[catchmeinthedriift]

lugedoge

[franknfauxpas]

WHO IS THIS GUY BECAUSE HE IS OUR CAST FOR NARVI

asparklethatisblue LOOK

[asparklethatisblue]

aiiii thank you!!!!

[shadowflameswords-blog]

the cold elementalist by Hana-me-no-tenshi

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

||What does it look like when Langon puts effort into making a fana that’s not so pale? This. This is what it can look like. :D still not a fan of pants though XD

[maiaofsass]

It looks like he's been inspired by true beauty. -gratuitous braid flip-

[maiaofsass]

Yaiwë grinned and tugged Ossë close, smearing his robes with soot. "Well helllllooooo there, fish lips." He dipped the aquatic Ainu for a deeper kiss, strong arms embracing any protests. "Now you need to scrub your tongue, or you could just savor the taste of my steel."

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

"What's the difference between Yaiwë and an over-eager flautist?"

[maiaofsass]

-

He winked, rolling forward to stand on his hands. “Apparently you haven’t heard ALL the rumours about me. There’s nothing I love more than getting hammered and pounded!” He laughed, heavily booted feet pointing before landing so he could strike a pose. “Besides, what better to motivate work than the sound of perfection?”

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

"Now you’re just casting aside courtesy," Langon said, feigning offense. "I had thought to avoid mentioning those rumours just now, but it seems you’ve reached for them anyway." He cast a sidelong look at Yaiwë. "Such a pity they didn’t have access to the sound of perfection, then, and had to settle for the motivation of trying to finish their work and get away from you sooner, hm?"

[maiaofsass]

"Casting aside courtesy? I'd argue that I was being polite by not casting aside my trousers!" He put his hands together and closed his eyes with sarcastic humbleness. "Either way, I provide a valuable service for productivity."

[maiaofsass]

[maiaofsass]

This is a tumblr butt touch. Pass this to at least 10 of your favorite blogs to show them how much you love their butt. Make sure you don't break the chain or your butt will deflate. Happy tumblr butt touching!

"Like Morgoth's ego, this butt will never deflate!"

[irmolorien-deactivated20190119]

Y A I W Ë

«Gift of Gab»

He lowered his hands, feigning surrender before slamming his fists on the ground. A marching song began to play in the breeze, followed by echoing voices. The cadence swelled, voices of all those who had marched against Melkor keeping time and morale. They were joined by fearful whispers, defiant prisoners howling, verdicts from the Valar and countless other fragments of speech that had rallied to fight the Darkness. 

Yaiwë closed his eyes and spread his arms to revel in the noise.

Original character by maiaofsass.

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

"What's the difference between Yaiwë and an over-eager flautist?"

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

  Langon gave Yaiwë a long stare, but did not speak. Instead, he shook his head slowly. They had already graduated from the ‘attempted murder’ side of this conversation, and so he elected to ignore the more offensive part of the other Maia’s remarks.

"Your fellow servants of Aulë must have drowned out your voice with their hammers remarkably often," he mused instead. "It was probably the only thing that kept them from using those hammers on you."

[maiaofsass]

He winked, rolling forward to stand on his hands. "Apparently you haven't heard ALL the rumours about me. There's nothing I love more than getting hammered and pounded!" He laughed, heavily booted feet pointing before landing so he could strike a pose. "Besides, what better to motivate work than the sound of perfection?"

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

"What's the difference between Yaiwë and an over-eager flautist?"

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

  "Because I spoke my Master’s words, obviously." He elbowed Yaiwë in the ribs. "Do you ask Eönwë inane questions about herald duties too? Or does his skill with a sword deter you?”

It was far easier to keep it light, to skate over the top of such a question, than to dwell upon grim memories that would drain all humour from a conversation.

[maiaofsass]

"I did! But I found out the hard way that imitation is not the sincerest form of flattery to our dear Lord of Air and he has no appreciation for the armpit pipe during his speeches." He grinned, leaning into the nudging elbow. "If Eönwë had any proper skill with his sword he wouldn't be so tense all the time." His own grim memories had been cast into a mental furnace, fueling his nearly unshakable defiant nature and persistent humour. 

"So, did you deliver precisely what was dictated to you, or did you have to learn how to translate braying jackass?"

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

"What's the difference between Yaiwë and an over-eager flautist?"

[maiaofsass]

-

An impish grin lit up Yaiwë’s features. His lips were twitching with the restraint it took to not release the barrage of commentary that came to him. “Lord Herald! Normally when someone wants to taste my tongue…I ask that they provide dinner…or a ballad first!” He fell back on the ground, gut rocking with hysterical laughter.

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

"Oh, you do?" Langon asked archly. "Not according to anything I’ve ever heard." He shifted at last from atop the smith’s chest and sat down next to him, monstrous form shrinking and softening into his usual appearance. The hostilities, such as they were, were well and truly over.

[maiaofsass]

"Good to know there was at least one topic of quality conversation in Angband!" He winked, expression turning sly as he leaned over the Herald. One of his braids slipped over his shoulder, the ending tuft landing on Langon's hand. It had the texture of a paintbrush, the blue-black hue sweeping a stark contrast over white skin. Yaiwë was a coal ember next to Langon's snowy palette, cheerful warmth seeking to...break the ice. 

"I do have to wonder though, with so many tawdry rumours about me flying...why is it you were dubbed...The Mouth?"

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

"What's the difference between Yaiwë and an over-eager flautist?"

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

  "Fine, but no stupid comments. This is the most efficient way." With a brief grimace, Langon leaned in, pressing his mouth against Yaiwë’s in a manner far too impersonal to be called any kind of kiss. Eyes narrowed with focus, he inhaled, drawing the lingering cold back into his own mouth, where it would dissipate harmlessly. He sat up again. "Will that suffice?"

[maiaofsass]

An impish grin lit up Yaiwë's features. His lips were twitching with the restraint it took to not release the barrage of commentary that came to him. "Lord Herald! Normally when someone wants to taste my tongue...I ask that they provide dinner...or a ballad first!" He fell back on the ground, gut rocking with hysterical laughter.

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

"What's the difference between Yaiwë and an over-eager flautist?"

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

  The sounds that surrounded them were chaotic, but Langon had known chaos before, had experienced discord and clamour for so long that he had learned to work around them. He bit down, teeth sinking into flesh chilled by his earlier attack —

and then he sat up, balanced upon Yaiwë’s chest. There was blood upon his pale lips.

The herald gazed down at Yaiwë, raised one hand, and delicately wiped the smith’s blood off his face, cleaning himself as though that task was suddenly more important than the fellow Maia pinned beneath him. At last, he spoke.

"Oh, do stop being so dramatic."

A wounded tongue would heal soon enough; a severed one would not, but Langon had resisted that urge, had unlocked his jaws as he pulled away and allowed Yaiwë to remain unmaimed.

He poked Yaiwë in the ribs. “Stop posing like some kind of martyr and end that absurd din, can’t you?”

[maiaofsass]

He sat up on his elbows and scowled. "Onby eef choo ubreeth ma tungd." Even with the fangs removed, Langon's chill was still very effective at hindering Yaiwë's ability to speak. All rage had dissipated to a disgruntled expression. Their conflict already seemed ages in the past, except for the lingering reminder of a new tongue piercing.

[maiaofsass]

I'll admit, you got a chuckle outta me with that one.~ If you change your mind, I'll be around.

"I am flattered. But any questions of age or mortality aside...I'm a wee bit wed to a dragon."

[maiaofsass]

Well, I was going to ask you on a date, but I suppose you'll just turn it into a pun :P

"You may be right. The last lass who approached me…I said I’d metaphor coffee date. She face-palmed.”

[maiaofsass]

Yaiwe, what's your romantic and/or sexual orientation? :o

"Hmm...please and thank you?"

[maiaofsass]

//The Umaia and the Servant of Finwë do really love each other. They just express it sometimes by trying to kill each other. It's only natural.