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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

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A tiny gift...(and happy October everyone)

@melkors-big-tits....Thank you for being a friend and for having my back and holding my hand...

You are an exceptional artist who always inspires me greatly and I am honoured to have been granted the privilege of writing a terribly irreverent and VERY cracky ficlet about your adorable picture.

The art in question 🖼️ here 🖼️

Thank you

Words: 2k

Warnings: irreverent towards the Valar, Manwë/Ulmo implied, sexual innuendo...this is complete and utter CRACK

How trick-or-treating was invented

“You look just like your brother when you make that face,” Ulmo exclaimed, his voice crashing like tempestuous waves against the impassive form of Manwë, Lord of a lot of winged things.

“Uh-oh,” one of the tadchicks – neither entirely tadpole nor truly eaglet – whispered conspiratorially to the bobbing flock of their siblings, “they’ve invoked Melkor, The Great and Terrible.”

It was always a bad sign for the atmosphere in the Undisturbed Lands (which were shaken by the various disagreements of its inhabitants on the daily) when Manwë’s brother was mentioned. Melkor was a last-ditch insult betraying despair and lack of inspiration, akin to a series of phenomena ending in “-phobia” in another world they knew nothing of yet.

“I’ll show you how alike my brother and I are,” Manwë howled after a moment of silence; just like the winds he controlled, he took a long time to take a deep breath before unleashing the violence of his anger.

“Bring it!” Ulmo cackled derisively just as one particularly forward tadchick – small and a tad more rotund than was the norm – nudged their unofficial leader.

“We should go and seek out this Melkor-creature,” the brazen youth piped up, “and see for ourselves if he is evil incarnate.”

Acquiescent murmurs broke out among the unusual creatures (for there were neither accidents nor abominations here since the departure of the self-same Melkor who was kept alive and present by the incessant gossip of the Valar) who were as of yet unnamed due to their vast number and the lack of inspiration of their genitors.

Clearly, their minders were otherwise occupied and hence, they theoretically could sneak out unseen to make their way to the legendary fortress of Utumno. As children of any kind and species were wont to do, they believed in the feasibility of their hare-brained plan and were blissfully ignorant of their glaring lapse in judgement: if Melkor was indeed the most terrible and cruel of all existing beings, it would undeniably have been a woefully injudicious decision to call upon him unchaperoned and unprotected by the might and power of their parents.

Invigorated by their own enterprising spirit, they were about to set out on their epic quest when a truly pathetically small tadchick suggested that they might want to disguise themselves for good measure. How they expected to fool the Lord of Utumno, brother and almost equal of their esteemed father, by such a subterfuge remains a mystery to this day, but – deciding that Varda’s white-faced anger was the most frightening sight they could think of – they attempted to recreate that horrifying sight by covering their heads with thin blankets, woven of tears and starlight and other immensely precious elements that should never be defiled in so callous a way.

“There’s someone at the door,” Mairon declared, stretching out lazily on the chaise longue to make it very clear that it would fall to Melkor to check who dared disturb them in their bubble of carnal intimacy.

Watching the godly – in shape, in temperament, and in nature – creature get up wearily, Mairon chirped: “My dear Lord, would it not be judicious to clothe your magnificence?”

It was highly unlikely that their foes – lazy, self-indulgent, and highly superstitious idiots that they were – would present themselves in the middle of what he supposed had to be “night” to them, but it was still better to pre-emptively eschew a situation in which Melkor would have to wrestle a handful of suicidal Eldar while naked. Not that Mairon would have minded the spectacle; the mere thought of that image made his body prickle with nascent arousal, and he decided that, once this loathsome interruption was dealt with conveniently, he would coax his master into another romp between the sheets.

Getting up reluctantly from his comfortable sprawl, he crept closer to the door in which Melkor – clad in an array of bright violet strands of fabric impersonating a dress and a pair of plush slippers Gothmog had gifted him – stood like the wrath of…like his ownall-consuming wrath, listening to whoever was outside.

From time to time, he nodded very seriously which would have made Mairon curious if he allowed himself such feeble-minded weaknesses.

After braving darkness and an unexpectedly chilly climate – they turned out to be much more coddled than they had expected themselves to be – the tadchicks were rightfully appalled to discover that the great and powerful Melkor turned out to be much less a frightening monster worthy of fireside stories and much more a huge, fleshy, broadly grinning Vala in fluffy slippers.

Summoning all their courage, they had banged their tiny arm-like appendages against the solid door with as much authority as they had been able to muster, waiting with bated breath for it to swing open to reveal a fanged, clawed, fearsome monstrosity.

After all the mumbled and hissed references and insults haunting their home like vengeful phantoms, they had expected something truly awe-inspiring and were just the tiniest bit disappointed by the almost friendly smile adorning that angular but not unhandsome face.

Remembering their own inherent power and pointedly ignoring the undignified sign demanding they wipe off their feet (as if they would set a single foot into that unholy fortress), they started howling and screeching to – if that was somehow possible – scare the Evil Lord out of his loathsome ways.

Judging by the fond expression passing over his face, their success was middling at best; temerity overcame them and – to mitigate that partial failure – they redoubled their efforts at frightening Melkor into being a decent being once more.

“Adorable,” he commented in a raucous, gravelly voice and shouted for his lieutenant over his massive shoulder; a moment later, a lithe, fire-haired creature appeared.

If Melkor’s appearance made his proclivity for chaotic violence abundantly clear, this sly, feline predator, stalking towards the open door with the lethal grace and the flashing eyes of a big cat, was a different kind of evil altogether though. They didn’t like the look of that other one and – this came as a shock to everyone – they much preferred the half-naked apparition leaning casually against the doorframe.

In their expert opinion, the similarities between Melkor and their father lay mainly in size and girth, even though they could not deny that his generous mouth did remind them of the endless litanies and reprimands Manwë frequently spouted with so much gusto that one would have thought that harsh words tasted like candied apples to him.

The tadchicks shivered as the realisation of how much danger they really were in struck them for the very first time in all its amplitude.

“Mairon,” the not all that fearsome Vala of darkness and destruction purred, “go get some treats for the little ones!”

His words were honeyed but the commanding tone left no doubts as to his supreme power and position in the lumpy and oddly misshapen fortress he called his “home” (he did at that; there was a crooked, hand-painted sign swinging listlessly above the gaping abyss of the open door).

“Treats? Master, do you mean to insinuate that you’ll guerdon these miscreants with waffles and candy for their insolence?” Mairon made a face that might have looked cute on someone who was not eyeing the tadchicks as if theywere the midnight snack he craved.

“Don’t pout,” Melkor laughed and grabbed the narrow chin of his officer between his thumb and forefinger playfully, “and do as you are told.”

The assembly of terrified rather than terrifying youngsters took a deep, relieved breath unisono when the one named Mairon slunk back into the shadows.

Not long afterwards though, he returned and handed his master a basket full of delicious, tasty delights that were promptly handed out to them patiently.

Unnamed and untamed as they yet were, the tadchicks started pushing and elbowing one another in their puerile eagerness to snatch up the most sought-after delicacies.

“You’re worse than the Balrogs,” Melkor chuckled, evidently taking great pleasure in discovering that his oh-so-high-and-mighty brother had not managed to bully or shame his own progeny into the level of perfection seemingly expected of every breathing thing around him either.

“And I am the Lord of Chaos,” he muttered under his breath mockingly when he saw one of the squirming creatures take a bite out of their sibling, painting the flimsy sheets they were wearing crimson.

“Tut tut,” he chided and handed the wailing victim an especially well-shaped waffle – Thuringwethil’s secret weapon – to comfort him; he knew only too well how it felt to be beaten into obedience by a slightly stronger sibling and he commiserated with the poor mite.

Reconciled, the brave little tadchick hugged their beautiful waffle to their strange chest - looking both shiny as if wet and finely feathered – and nodded their veiled little head in wordless gratitude.

"Who sired you?" Melkor then asked softly as he handed his empty basket back to the still menacing, fire-eyed naysayer who hovered at his elbow like a leashed jaguar.

Another round of shoving ensued before half of them called out the name of one of their fathers and the other half claimed the parentage of the other.

“Indeed,” Melkor hissed between clenched teeth; for a moment, the world seemed to stand still, and then he threw back his head – dark hair swirling madly around him – and laughed heartily.

“Let me give you something for them as well,” he smirked and, after disappearing very shortly (for which they were truly thankful for that Mairon-creature was eyeing them with a mix of hatred and hunger), he returned with a neatly packed bundle that was entrusted to the biggest and sturdiest of their party.

“Those are their favourites,” Melkor explained, “now run home before they get too worried about you.”

Another wave of murmuring stirred the tadchicks into a whirlpool of frantic motion as the offering was handed around, sniffed thoroughly, and approved as exceptional.

They were truly agog to find Melkor to be not only shockingly comely instead of tear-inducingly repulsive, but also generous, humorous, and even kind.

“Shoo now,” Melkor repeated cheerily, waving his massive hand enthusiastically at the group that was slowly making their way back home, bobbing up and down in their eagerness to analyse and discuss every hair on the dark Vala’s head.

“They’ll be livid,” Mairon chortled from behind Melkor’s broad back, raking his fingers down the ropes of tense muscle teasingly, “but I suspect that this was what you had in mind?”

“Nonsense,” his master contradicted, “cuties get treats! That’s a rule. And as I am the undisputed King of Cuties, I get the most!”

Turning around quickly, he grabbed Mairon’s chin once more and pressed a passionate kiss on those primly pursed lips about to open to let out a sharp riposte.

“Who could truly blame me if my most selfless goodwill ends up corrupting their little creatures?” Melkor chirped innocently, underlining his words with a nonchalant shrug, and – hips swaying invitingly – returned to the chaise longue that had been deserted by Mairon.

He threw a single melting, languorous look over his shoulder as he sank down on it with surprising grace.

“You want waffles too, right?” Mairon cocked one eyebrow.

“Please?”

Shaking his head, the dutiful, loyal lieutenant decided that he’d drown the baked goods in so much syrup that it would be positively impossible for Melkor not to drip all over his barely clothed chest.

It would fall to him to clean his master and get him into a proper state – worthy of his birth and station – before bedtime. What one didn’t do for duty!

He bit back the chuckle and joined Melkor on the couch, sinking into his luminous, mesmerising eyes as much as into the soft cushions.

“Open up wide, King of Cuties,” he scoffed and tore off a tiny strip of waffle to taunt Melkor into that second round he had been aiming at this whole time.

So, this kicks off October for me.

Have a nice month and - if you enjoy my rambling - I'll do an October ficlet run for the @fellowshipofthefics Fotfictober Challenge. You can already go look at the pairings.

And...I might just combine the one or the other with the corresponding kinktober prompt. Who knows? Stay tuned.

Lots of love from me <3

#fanfiction #writing #crack #melkor(the user)#amazing art #dear Melkor #Melkor #Ulmo #Manwë #Mairon #tadchicks #chickpoles #yum yum #Mairon is a big cat #Melkor is a big floooofff #treats #and threats #a bit of fluff and crack to kick off the month

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crackinthecup · 1 year

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Summary:

“No,” Melkor repeats, and he can hear the fraying in his own voice. They have done this before; so many times they have done this, and each time he hoped it might be the last. “You’ve bled enough. You’ve hurt enough.”

#crackinthecup's writing #angbang #melkor #mairon #sauron #silmarillion #a fic happened!!#this is part of my post-dagor dagorath 'the swords have been cast down' series #tumblr user @tarmairons is 1000% responsible for making me think of this 'verse again

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buffyfan145 · 3 months

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Fellowship of Fans have released their take on The One Ring Net's article last week about those major "Rings of Power" season 2 leaks. Was curious if they would and glad they did as it's interesting to hear what FOF has heard too. They actually confirmed some of these they have also heard and they've also debunked a few too, but there are a few they don't know about so could be possible as the show did keep a few things secret for s1. Again we won't know if any of these are true, including what FOF has said, till s2 finally airs later this year. But will say they also included more about Charlie Vickers' screen time in s2 and it's good news as I know some of us were worried about it, and they're suggesting something we wanted to happen actually is. I'll break down their take between what they've also heard and what they've debunked and/or haven't heard at all.

ETA April 2024: A lot of these spoilers have been confirmed as false now including some that were leaked on purpose from Amazon to catch the leakers.

Confirmed:

The first major thing is it is possible Amazon got the ok from the Tolkien estate to use some of "The Silmarillion" to explain Sauron's backstory. This likely is mostly the use of names like Mairon, Mirthrander for Gandalf, Melkor/Morgoth, and show the Valar and Maiar.

There are flashbacks telling Sauron/Mairon's story but they haven't heard anything about what this leak said with the details. Possible the Valar and Maiar are shown on-screen in the opening, similar to Galadriel's opening in s1.

Sauron is in every episode.

Charlie Vickers filmed almost all the flashbacks and FOF seems to suggest that the Halbrand form is the human-like form of Mairon. Like above we might see what Mairon actually looked like fully as Maiar and Charlie is playing him. There likely is a flashback to his time with Adar, as Adar know Gavi Singh Chera's version, that Charlie won't be in but sounds like Gavi is mostly being used only as the Annatar version.

The 3rd actor playing Sauron very well could be Calam Lynch. They have also heard that Sauron will pretend to be Celeborn when he goes back to Eregion too, as well as shifting into Annatar when needed, but will pretend to be Galadriel's husband. They haven't posted this scoop though yet as they were waiting to get more confirmation but it is possible this is correct.

Is possible The Stranger being Gandalf/Mithrander will be revealed in the flashbacks with Charlie's Mairon/Sauron.

Sauron does use his connection to Aule to convince the dwarves to his side.

Tom Bombadil and Goldberry likely will appear.

The One Ring likely is getting made in the finale and Galadriel might make a huge choice for the cliffhanger for s3.

Debunked:

There are no bottle episodes.

Shadowfax will not appear.

Amelia Kenworthy is not playing Celebrian and there is no evil Celebrian, but Amelia's unnamed character is a villain.

That thing about the same actors playing Morgoth and Ungoliant playing Tom Bombadil and Goldberry is false, and they are not the same characters.

While the Valar and Maiar might be shown in the s2 premiere it's not what this leak described.

Things they haven't heard at all:

That Sauron has a son. That was the first time they ever heard this and they think it's false. However they aren't ruling out anything as again s1 did have leaks come out this exact same way and like they said TORT has the right to post these if they want. Will point out too TORT has doubled down on all these leaks, including this one about Sauron's son and that Adar killed him. I posted my other posts how this makes sense and I kind of do want this to happen, so if it doesn't I might write a fic about it as it weirdly works. LOL

So again we'll know for sure once season 2 airs which of these leaks/scoops were true. But again I'm really happy that it seems like Charlie is playing Mairon after all as so many of us thought he should.

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lemoneyshipz · 9 days

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been itching to make my own silmarillion/tolkienverse fancast,, this is less of a who i actually want to play them and more of a what they look like in my head so bare with me this is not gonna be a very realistic cast

part 1

Mairon/Sauron - Yoshiki Hayashi

of course im starting with my darling evil meow meow the baddest bitch of arda himself

And i must say i took one look at yoshiki hayashi and haven’t been able to picture mairon any other way.

and also this specific photoshoot of yoshiki is how i pictured annatar and tar-mairon

Melkor- Peter Steele

as for his chaotic husband i think another tumblr user has proposed Peter Steele and they ate so hard like that is the PERFECT choice

and this gets me moving onto the feanorians bc they are the ones i actually had to spend time to decide and look up options, but here we go

Feanor- Cillian Murphy

this is one that i immediately had in mind snd i will absolutely die on this hill i am so right about this

Nerdanel

i had a hard time deciding between Nicole Kidman or Bridget Regan but either way feanor should’ve worshipped the ground she walks on

Maedhros- Leland Fraser

edit: just saw a photo of Leland Fraser on twt and completely lost my cool i still think Bartek Borowiec is a good choice but ultimately im changing the final decision to Leland

will continue in part 2 (eventually)

#silmarillion #silmarillion fancast #fancast #mairon #sauron #melkor #angbang #feanorians #sons of feanor #feanor #maedhros #nerdanel

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anneangel · 4 months

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Hobbit???

Have you ever thought about how The Hobbit not only introduced Tolkien's world to the literary universe, since it was the first to be released, but also how from it the Hobbits were created as a creature concept? It's not that they were "neglected in the history" of that world, it's that they didn't exist in Tolkien's plans for that universe. That is, until Bilbo infiltrated Tolkien's mind disguised as the creature protagonist of bedtime stories.

And that Gandalf was just a mere wizard, no an Maiar/Istari or anything like that, so much so that the name Gandalf was actually the name of the dwarve who would later be called Thorin (Gandalf's name in the drafts was Bladorthin, something that meant "gray" + other thing. While Gandalf was a name coming from Norse and meant something like "elf with a staff", why would he give a name like that to a dwarve? That's the question. He must have realized the meaning and changed his mind, making the name of all the Dwarves derive from the Edda/Old Norse). And transforming Gandalf into the gray wizard, who had nothing to do with a dwarve.

Or even if the Ring was just a magical ring that made the user invisible, without there being anything evil about it. And that the White Council and the Necromancer was just a convenient excuse for the wizard to leave the company and for the Dwarves and Hobbit to stop depending on him to solve everything. And that's why the plot doesn't follow Gandalf to Dol Guldur, because there was no plot! At least, not YET.

And only after others asked and insisted that Tolkien write "more Hobbit stories", and even after he denied the idea for a while claiming that The Hobbit was a book without a sequel and that "there was nothing left to talk about Hobbits". But then his prototype of The Silmarillion was denied and…

Then Tolkien changed his mind, because then he decided there was more about Hobbits to tell.

So Tolkien deliberated with himself and outlined that the Ring would be the plot of the new narrative. Turning it into a target (MacGuffin) and evil object to be destroyed. To the point where had to EDIT the entire "Riddles in the Dark" chapter of The Hobbit just so that his new LotR story would be more believable (since in the 1937 edition Gollum intended to give the Ring to Bilbo, which wouldn't make sense with the plot of LotR, forcing Tolkien to edit and direct the plot towards Gollum being sneakier, willing to kill Bilbo if he could. Apart from the fact that, for everyone who remembered or had the first edition, Tolkien invented something like "forget that, that was Bilbo's lie, Gollum would never give him the Ring"). And then, in LotR, he had to expand Gollum's story.

And then Tolkien had to outline the entire Second Era (and the forging the rings) and outline the Third Age from there. Inventing Sauron, making him the Necromancer of The Hobbit, associate him with the Ring, and associate him with Melkor/Morgoth (from the first era).

It is always surprising when I remember that The Hobbit was just a story for Tolkien's children, which at the time he never understood why he set the story of little hobbit Bilbo to the same universe of his beloved narratives of "ancient tales" (who were only outlined in a "First Era", which ended when "Melkor's banned in the Void").

This is why The Hobbit clearly establishes that there are different types of elven lineage. And mentions Gondolin. Because Tolkien had his First Era clearly outlined as an idea. But nothing afterwards!

So basically, without The Hobbit there would only be the First Age. The second and third appeared after the book (The Hobbit) became famous enough to call for a sequel, and Tolkien had to turn that sequel (LotR) into the background of everything, and of all Eras, making everything work together and in harmony, in a coherent way.

And that's why LotR seems so exhaustive and long, like a "nostalgic" that needs to mention facts from previous eras, attach The Hobbit, and outline the third era. And more, it also had to include appendices to consolidate matters not addressed or that required further clarification, which did not arise throughout the plot.

In the end, the book that began as a bedtime story (The Hobbit) turned into a spark of ideas that linked the events of the first, second, and third Eras.

It is significant that Tolkien, in an attempt to attach the events of The Hobbit to the events of the "whole" world of Old Tales, ended up creating his "mythological whole" as we know it today. In the end, it was the release of The Hobbit that brought light to everything, from LotR (which didn't exist without The Hobbit), as much as it highlighted The Silmarillion (which would just be imprecise ideas from a First Age, in drafts, that without The Hobbit there would be no continuity. Well, drafts, still is, given that Tolkien never released it in his lifetime). But do you understand my?

The hobbit was the essential link between The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings.

I already love The Hobbit, but even if I didn't like it, I'd have to respect it for the outpouring of ideas it unleashed.

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #hobbits #LotR #lord of the rings #jrr tolkien #tolkien books #bilbo my beloved

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demonscantgothere · 1 year

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Litost by Helholden, Chapter 21: Mercy

Sauron/Galadriel set during Ar-Pharazôn’s rule of Númenor when Sauron holds the position of the High Priest of Melkor. Galadriel, captured in the middle of a war, has been imprisoned and handed over to him as a sacrifice to be made in the Temple of the High Priest, but Sauron has other plans. From Akallabêth to the founding of Gondor, unlikely allies are forged.

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types

Warnings: Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply, F/M, Work in Progress

Relationship(s): Galadriel/Sauron, Galadriel/Halbrand

Tags: Prisoner of War, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Good and Evil, Good versus Evil, Existentialism, Existential Crisis, Existential Angst, Late Night Conversations, Implied/Referenced Human Sacrifice, Acts of Kindness, Hate to Love, Love/Hate, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Future, Númenor, Akallabêth, Conflicted Galadriel, Trust Issues, Everyone Has Issues, Sauron Needs Therapy, Magic, Magic-Users, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Heavy Angst, Political Alliances, Canon-Typical Violence, Tenderness, Vulnerability, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think

Chapter Summary:

“That is not fair,” Halbrand argued with her, and Galadriel turned to him in a rage, finally looking at him.

“Are you reading my mind?” she shot back.

“Yes, I am reading your mind,” he hissed back. Halbrand rose from the bed, his warmth dissipating from her side, disappearing into the cool night air and leaving her bathed in a sudden chill. “Is that all you’re going to think of me, even now? A usurper? A tyrant? To take everything I have by force and earn none of it?”

Galadriel rose from the bed to stand before him, matching him ire for ire. “I did not give you permission to read my mind—”

“What else am I supposed to do, Galadriel!” Halbrand hollered at her. “You speak not to me at all! I know nothing of your mind! You share little with me but fair-weather claims all Men say to each other day in and day out!” His voice cracked along with his face under the soft flicker of flames with no one around to judge him for his loss of self-control but her. For all her self-righteous rage, it stunned her to see him lose his temper in such a manner.

Keep Reading

#saurondriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #haladriel #galadriel x halbrand #halbrand x galadriel #my fic

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curufiin · 3 months

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We need those “this user xyz” userboxes for melkor. Something like “this dark lord does not know how to cook!” Or “this dark lord has arachnophobia!”

#archi screaming #silmarillion #melkor

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urwendii · 3 months

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Hello if you are frustrated by the attitude on some larger fandom servers there is a teeny tiny one with amazing people, absolutely not unhinged and crazy. The only criteria is that you must love Eönwë, round birbs and multiship Ainur in general. But mostly Eönwë. And Arien.

Please fill this form:

Q. What is your opinion vis a vis of Eönwë?

Q. How much do you love Arien? (Not as much as me. That's a trap question.)

Q. Re: Eönwë. Do you like him on his knees too?

Q. Someone ask you to Hallow a suspicious shiny stone. What do you do?

I eat it

I put it in my crown

I throw it in the sea

I give it to tumblr user maironite

Q. Melkor's daddy issues. That's not a question. I just wanted to state that fact.

Q. Mairon's questionable work ethics. Woke or Broke?

#its meant as a joke #im awaiting my mom to get out of surgery and im bored

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brynnmclean · 10 months

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It’s my birthday today! In case you missed it yesterday, I have posted a ficlet roundup for the random bits on Tumblr that I didn’t want to lose to the ether for the Uncorrupted Mairon AU.

it's not from what we run that drums

Ficlets so far:

About Apologies - “He hurt you. Or at least, he was the one who let Melkor into the door.”

Family Party - Hopefully none of Mairon's absolute bewilderment is showing on his face.

Tracked Down - "You're just the same as you've always been."

Helcaraxë Fragments - Everything is so cold.

There’s Kinslaying (and Kinslaying) - What is more bloodshed to this already soaked ground?

Silver Clam - Celeborn insists on fighting in the War of Wrath.

Read it here on AO3 (locked to logged-in users).

Everything about the AU can also be found via these Relevant Tags on my Tumblr: an Uncorrupted Mairon AU, fell in love with the fire, and rough drafts.

#an uncorrupted mairon au #fell in love with the fire #rough drafts #galadriel x halbrand x celeborn #galadriel x halbrand #my fic #rings of power

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liminal-zone · 1 year

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fic rec

immediately read this. IMMEDIATELY.

fic link: Buried in Bone by AO3 user Invisible_Hand (rated Mature; Sauron/Galadriel, past Mairon/Melkor)

This is a Sauron POV about the mortifying ordeal of being a divine immortal stuck in a meatsuit. New horrors in a body of flesh, and strange joys in finding a place in the world with a "lodestar risen from the blackness of the Sundering Sea in the wake of his betrayal...she was, the closest thing to the light of Valinor he would ever again reach." Sauron is vain and hungry and ancient and somehow so young.

This is for angbang fam and haladriel nation and holy shit is this for monsterfuckers. And it's also just the most stunning prose in a searingly intimate character study. tumblr user @whatimages also wisely noted "sauron independently invents bdsm to cope with being incarnate," so head's up, it's sexy af.

this fic will stick with me for a long time. absolutely masterful.

#fic rec #saurondriel #haladriel #sauron #the rings of power #melkor #i may never recover after reading this #I MAY NEVER RECOVER #Invisible_Hand #masterful!

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i-did-not-mean-to · 1 year

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The Diary of Jane Doe - Part VI

After finishing my S&D, I finally get the time to upload the next chapter of this.

-> Part V

Words: 1,9k

Warnings: blood, mayhem, sexual innuendo, all-around vulgarity

October 21st - Part I

Jane woke up and groaned; she had slept badly, and she was not sure her guests had slept at all.

The lukewarm shower and the donning of underwear did but very little to brighten her mood so – by the time she dragged herself into the living room – she was more out of sorts than she’d ever been.

“We’re ready,” Melkor chirped, clothed in what she surmised had once been her best slip; when he had spoken of “clothing”, she had – naïvely as she now had to appreciate – thought of proper garments such as pants and shirts.

Hence why the porn-bikini construction of strips crisscrossing over Melkor’s bulging flesh took her by surprise; she had never seen anything remotely like that in real life and was wondering for a second if he was even able to breathe in it.

Then again, she thought, she did not know if breathing was a requirement for a not-devil to begin with.

“This is not your first day of school,” she grumbled and went into the kitchen to switch on the coffee machine which made a strange noise before spluttering into action.

“Hmmmm thanks,” Gothmog rumbled as she brought him his thimble and gave her thumb a friendly nip. “Thuri and I will hold the fort! She sleeps during the day.”

“Wait a minute!” Jane’s hand froze midway to her mouth, her own coffee cup hanging suspended in the air and her jaw slack with outrage. “She asked for a good night kiss yesterday!”

“She just wanted a kiss,” Melkor chimed in with a wicked cackle that drove gooseflesh down her spine. “She’s devious like that.”

“There’s nothing devious in wanting to be kissed,” Jane muttered grumpily to which Mairon replied that he certainly never, under no circumstances, in any world, would accept her to put her filthy mouth on him.

To Jane’s alarm, none of the others seemed to share that sentiment; she did not intend to make it a habit to kiss them good morning and good night like actual pets or lovers.

“Off to work then,” she said, visibly defeated, “you two better not get up to any funny stuff in my purse. It’s real leather, the stains will never come out.”

The fact that both Melkor and Mairon agreed immediately should have warned her that something awfully wicked was on the horizon; moreover, their enthusiasm to be leaving the flat gave her a strange, sickening inkling that they had done something unnatural to the place while she had been asleep.

It was the prerogative of a spinster to be peculiar and hence, nobody even batted an eye at Jane unpacking two of the creepiest dolls anyone had ever seen and putting them on the desk beside her screen.

Generally seemingly invisible to her colleagues, she didn’t worry too much about anyone stopping by to chat with her anyway; soon, her two demons were merrily cutting out shapes from a stack of post-its and clambering around on her while she was entering data into a never-ending spreadsheet with rhythmic, mindless movements.

“Where is the hot dude?” Melkor asked at some point, balancing up her arm and sitting on her shoulder – literally kicking his feet in the fashion of a schoolgirl – like the proverbial demon seducing people into giving in to their darkest impulses. “Maybe we can put some tacks into him? In a flirty way?”

“Next cubicle,” Jane informed them without looking up; she was wondering if either Gothmog or Thuri were able to pick up the old landline phone she still paid for every month even though nobody ever called her on it. She couldn’t quite shake the worry about her apartment.

Clambering up a desk organiser, Mairon peeped over the partition wall cautiously and then, leaping to his feet elegantly, shook his head in clear disappointment.

“What an insipid creature,” he groused, “just the right fit for you. Call him over.”

“What for?” Jane replied; she was too much of a coward to initiate a conversation with her crush and all the haunted dolls in the world wouldn’t change that.

“Hey, handsome man,” Melkor shouted in an awful imitation of a female voice at the same moment as Mairon kicked the wall behind him twice, “why don’t you come over here for a second?”

Sliding down her arm again, Melkor took up a place by her right hand, cramped around her mouse, and had the gall to grin broadly when Jane shot him a dumbfounded look.

A second later, a head popped over the partition.

“Me?” the man asked, heat flaring in his face; thankfully, he was so focused on Jane that he did not notice two small heads swivelling to look up at him.

“Yeah,” Jane said lamely, “give me a second, I’ll come over.”

She gave the two seemingly inanimate objects a withering stare and stood up.

“Ask him if he wants to see your cool lizard,” Melkor hissed.

“And your amazing bat,” Mairon added darkly.

Jane shook her head and left the cubicle.

“Funky dolls you have there,” her crush smiled as she slid into his small space, “a bit unsettling, but very cool!”

Say something, she screamed at herself inwardly, but no good idea came to her.

“Do you want to see my cool lizard?” she blurted out.

“You bring a lizard to work?” He cocked one eyebrow in mild curiosity.

“No,” Jane replied hastily, “it’s in my flat. I also have a…an amazing bat.”

Thrice cursed invaders! She would have come up with something better, given some time and the chance to put some thought into it, but – as things were – she had gone with what was ready.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, evidently confused and intrigued at the same time. “I’d love that. Bats are really nice. Don’t they carry diseases though?”

“Not mine,” Jane protested, “she’s the origin of all diseases, but she’s also the best bat anyone has ever seen. Just don’t let her bite you, I guess. My…lizard is also a really chill fellow.”

Oh my God, stop talking, she tried to admonish herself, but now that she had started, she couldn’t stem the tide of inane words bubbling forth.

“They are adorably cute,” she went on irrepressibly, “so whenever you’re free, swing by!”

“Sure thing,” he grinned. “How about you give me your number and I’ll see when I can get away from here? I could pick up some food on my way?”

She could only nod and, resisting the urge to fan herself, turned around to leave again.

“Jane?” he called after her. “I think you’ve been pranked. There are…” He plucked something off her lumpy cardigan and handed it to her. It was a paper cut-out in a very vulgar shape. “Your whole back is full of them.”

“Ah, Michael from accounting,” she chuckled nervously, “you know how he is.”

In truth, Michael from accounting would never have dreamed about sticking post-its representing lewd ideas and organs on a colleague’s back, but she could hardly tell him that her dolls were actually very much alive and had a terrible sense of humour, could she?

Maybe once she knew him a little better; after all, he had expressed interest in her little companions. She would very much have welcomed not being the only one knowing about them.

Returning to her desk, she opened google and checked if there was a “Being haunted by immortal demons for Dummies” book, but she couldn’t find anything. Surely, there were rules about whether you had to keep your situation a secret and tips on how to avoid utterly ruining your life.

“So, I take it, it went well? Did you use tacks?” Melkor whispered conspiratorially from a pile of fabric scraps that had once been a run-of-the-mill corporate mousepad.

“I did not,” Jane gasped. “Can we get you a bone or something to gnaw on?”

Melkor pondered this for a moment, watching the tops of other people’s heads float by the wall of her cubicle until his nostrils flared.

“I want what the sweaty man had,” he exclaimed so loudly that Jane tried to wave away the sound by flapping her hands uselessly.

It was a much-loathed colleague’s birthday today, so there was cake in the breakroom.

“If I get you two abominations cake, will you be good and let me work until lunch break?”

They both nodded obediently again and, this time, she was wary indeed. Nonetheless, she went and retrieved the cake that she put in front of her dolls, much to the mocking amusement of another woman who had followed Jane to her cubicle.

“Oh in the name of all that’s holy, Jane, this is pathetic even for you,” she sneered.

“Hmmm, believe me, there’s nothing holy about it,” Jane replied through pale, tightly drawn lips. She felt almost sorry for the harpy when she caught flashes of anger and enthusiasm rippling through what everyone thought were glass eyes set in unsettlingly charming porcelain faces.

“Cake first,” she warned resolutely and shoved all the tacks, the stapler, and even the pencil sharpener into her drawer and locked it.

It was a futile attempt, she knew, for Mairon could have turned the very paper plate into a shiv in a pinch, but she felt a little better – more innocent – if she at least tried to keep them from outright murdering her colleague in cold blood.

The woman thankfully walked away, sniggering; she was probably on the prowl for other colleagues with whom she could share her newest gossip about the laughably silly Jane.

“Do you want us to kill her?” Melkor asked casually as if murder was not a highly reprehensible crime.

Jane shook her head slowly; if she had been a powerful wielder of dark magic or at least a steadfast hero, she might have withstood the draw or even tried to gain some control over her demons, but – as she was but a woefully feeble, flawed, neglected wretch – she mustered up a warm smile instead.

“It’s okay,” she sighed, “I am used to it.”

“Not on our watch,” Mairon declared, already collecting bits and bobs of metal he had somehow extricated from her stationery to construct some miniature weapon. “We’ll get the old hag!”

“No blood,” Jane warned and chuckled when she saw their terribly disappointed little faces. “I am going to grab a sandwich; do you want anything, or did you eat your fill?”

They decided that she could bring them something with a lot of meat – just in case – and waved at her in an eerily friendly fashion that clearly foretold incredible wickedness in the near future.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys,” Jane tried to soothe herself, but she hastened to the sandwich shop and back only to find her dolls – who were very much her circus after all – neatly arranged on her desk and her colleague in tears.

Apparently, she had suffered spontaneous hair loss; the haphazard pattern of the bald patches – of varying sizes and degrees of severity – mystified everyone. Nobody had ever heard of a woman losing whole strands of hair all over her head within a mere quarter of an hour.

When the wailing chaos in the office turned into outright mayhem, their boss decided that everyone had had a shock and that they should probably go home for the day while a cleaning company made sure that there were no biochemical reasons for this unfortunate incident.

“See? We’re the best,” Melkor chirruped proudly from Jane’s bag and – for once – she couldn’t even truly disagree.

Eh, she does like them and they've been rather protective of her poor, little soul now...

Only...will Jane end up regretting inviting her crush home?

😂

@melkors-big-tits I'm sure you'll find a way of excusing their trespasses and mindless destruction haha

#fanfiction #crack #Mini-Melkor #check out Melkor (the user)'s drawings #Conjuring bad forces #and fumbling it #Worst OC in the world #the silm #the silmarillion #very much not serious #when an idea takes hold #and now you're writing a sitcom about mini-melkor

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eirian-houpe · 11 months

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Monday Mmmm

Fair warning: This post is not all sweetness and light - though I wish it were different - I'm going to be calling out a few folks; and a specific fandom (and branch thereof). I'm saddened by it all to be honest, but... I've given it well over 24 hours and I still feel just the same as I did when the antecedent occurred, and so, I feel like I have the right to speak my mind.

The TL;DR version of this post is here: If you're going to be hyper-precious about responses and/or reblogs to and of your posts on a site that was created for discussion and sharing, you might want to reconsider your participation on Tumblr and get the fuck out of dodge!

If I was 'rude', as was asserted by the person throwing shade in the poorly disguised guise of objection and subsequently supported by many of their followers, then I will apologize for troubling myself to provide them with an example of the very content of which they were lamenting a lack. I made a very tongue-in-cheek comment after providing the example about "shameless self promotion" - “...just a quip... not serious,” (Espenson). But the sheer ageist venom that followed... nope. Unacceptable.

If you want to know where I'm coming from, it's under the cut.

The Tolkien fandom on the internet - and Tumblr especially - has become beset by younger members of fandom who are - sadly - prejudiced, pretentious and privileged. I've got news for you.: to demand respect while giving none yourself is the height of hypocrisy, and to call older Tumblr users, "mummies," and claiming that you're having "trouble with the breathing mummies with too much treasure" (Melkors-Defence-Attorney et al). THAT, my friends, is disrespect of the highest order.

I can't help but wonder what kind of "trouble" you, as a younger member of the fandom, could possibly be having with your elders, (and note, I said 'elders' and not 'betters' because, hell, nobody's perfect, and even elders make mistakes).

To turn around and try to school someone at least twice your age on proper internet (and/or Tumblr) etiquette? Please - someone hold my beer - I've got more news for you, Snowflakes, we were there when the internet was little more than a twinkle in your daddies' eyes, and we were the ones that spent our blood, sweat and many, many tears to create the tenants of online etiquette which you now wield as a club with which to beat us.

See, here's the thing: a Tumblr reblog is like a single point in a multiverse. It's like IDIC ("IDIC”). One person with ten followers reblogs, and say three of those followers also reblog, and their followers do likewise and so on and all of a sudden you have an extremely diverse discussion in which ANYONE can participate. So if you don't like something someone posts in their reblog of something you're a part of, don't read it. Someone else further down the chain might, and it might lead to an interesting discussion among an extended group of people, of which you don't have to be a part. Where the threat in that? Or if this is not about feeling threatened, then why make such a fuss?

I also can't help but wonder, as you post such 'scholarly' discourses on your blog posts (without citing references, I might add), how many of you have actually sat down to read multiple versions and revisions of the same source material in order to truly analyze Tolkien's intent for any given passage before being programmed with the 'received' interpretation in the form of the many indices and commentaries provided by Christopher Tolkien on his father's work. How many of you have read, let alone studied the many volumes of The History of Middle Earth (Tolkien), and who among you, writing Elvish fiction would know LaCE (Tolkien 207) if it leaped up and bit your arse? From the discourse I've read among the posts, not many, I'd wager, and those that have simply... what? Discard it as 'inconvenient'?

Is this harsh? Yes, probably, but at this point my lines have been well and truly crossed, and my rope is frayed, and beyond the edge. If you're going to stick around on Tumblr and participate in interesting and meaningful discussions with other users, then please, grow the fuck up!

----

Espenson, Jane. “Skin Deep.” Once Upon A Time, season 1, episode 12, ABC/Disney, 12 Feb. 2012.

“IDIC.” Memory Alpha, Fandom TV Community, 27 Mar. 2022, https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/IDIC#References.

Melkors-Defense-Attorney, et al. “Untitled.” I Make Tolkien Roll in His Grave on Tumblr, Tumblr, 3 May 2023, https://www.tumblr.com/melkors-defense-attorney/716333000833515520/my-last-post-wasnt-an-invitation-to-promote-your?source=share.

Tolkien, Christopher, and Tolkien J R R. The History of Middle-Earth. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2020.

Tolkien, J R R. “Laws and Customs Among the Eldar.” The History of Middle Earth, edited by Christopher Tolkien, vol. 3, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, Boston, NY, 2020, pp. 207–253.

#Monday Mmmm #salty #age is not a disability #ageism #prejudice #privilege #respect and disrespect #tumblr discourse #internet etiquette #rebog purpose #tags #MLA9 citations

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swordandboardllc · 1 year

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Introducing THE STUMBLING BLOCK Volume 1

I’ve dipped my toes into the zine world only a teeny handful of times, and certainly hadn’t considered making one of my own. But with a newsletter, an ongoing blog, and the twitterverse, it was easy for Gideon Marcus to convince me to do so. All it needed was a name, and that too was something they easily convinced me of.

“You could call it ‘The Stumbling Block’” he said, and while I’m not sure he was being completely serious about it, I honestly can’t think of a better name. I want to point out stumbling blocks in fantasy, both in published works and pre-published drafts. I want this to both create stumbling blocks in authors, and show them how to clear away those blocks. Without further ado, let’s create some discomfort.

We are writers. We live with vast imaginations. Yet ‌in worlds where we imagine FTL engines or dragons, science-as-magic or magic-as-science, it seems we cannot imagine disabled or chronically ill people existing alongside it. Disability affects 15% of the world population, yet certainly does not appear among 15% of the characters we write about.

I maintain that writing is not a comfortable act. We delve into hard parts of ourselves and our societies to drive not just plots, but social change. We give fictional commentaries on past events to give hope for the future, regardless of how we veil the events we steal from. Even if all you write are cozy stories, you can’t write something cozy without knowing what you’re shielding the reader from. And that always bleeds through‌.

I spoke with a fellow writer who stated, “Well, there’s a reason you don’t see a lot of disabled characters in an action book.” Yes, there is.

Ableism. Often internalized.

There is a good chance that you, or someone you know, wear glasses. Visual impairments and their accommodations have become normalized, if not fashionable, in North American society. It doesn’t appear strange to go to work wearing glasses. Nor is it odd for your protagonist to wear them, if time period appropriate. It’s time to do the same for other assistive devices (self-propelled wheelchairs were invented in 1655, so no excuses for fantasy writers), as well as the disabilities that go with them.

Good Versus Evil: Scars, Disfigurements, and Moral JudgEments

Evil often comes in two forms: the hideously ugly and disfigured (consider characters like The Hound from A Song of Ice and Fire, or the entire race of orcs from The Lord of the Rings), or hauntingly beautiful (The Empress in The Poppy War, or Maleficent of Sleeping Beauty). Most protagonists, even if they state how plain they are (Bella from Twilight), they rarely actually are anything less than whole and hale, often still classically pretty or handsome. They are rarely ugly. After all, reading is escapism. It’s easy to enjoy a book where the reader is in the perspective of a beautiful character healthy in both mind and body. We can feel good when they do good, uncomfortable when they’re mistreated, and heroic when they defeat injustices. It’s easier to focus on the plot when we use the shorthand of ‘wholeness’ and ‘able bodied’ in our character creation. It’s uncomfortable to have a protagonist that forces us to examine our biases on abilities while they’re on their quest to destroy the evil corporation/empire/dragon. It takes more creativity to solve the solution of ‘How does an ambulatory wheelchair-user slay the dragon?’ than ‘How does my able-bodied character do it?’

Examination of what makes us uncomfortable breeds introspection and empathy in the reader. It’s our subconscious biases through social conditioning that lead to issues of entire races being coded as evil. Consider that while we may expect beauty to betray us (Melkor in the Silmarillion), it’s a far greater surprise for hideousness to be heroic (I don’t imagine we’ll see the first good orc in Rings of Power, for example). When our biases are deeply ingrained in our tropes and societies, how do we avoid them while still authentically telling the story we wish to tell? After all, I’m not here to tell you that you can’t write certain stories. But we can broaden our horizons to minimize real harm, and create those warm fuzzies of being seen.

Disability is the one minority group you can join at any point in your life, and likely will the older you get. That fact should be kept in mind with your world-building and character creation, and will help you divest disability from moral judgments. It’s fine to have a villain with facial scarring–only if they’re not the only character with a facial deformity. How your protagonists react to these deformities is huge. Statements like ‘now their internal and external match’ regarding a villain’s new deformity is harmful and that harm can be called out through your author voice. If the plot armor is too thick around your protagonists but not your antagonists, if disabling issues are quickly healed away for your heroes, and traumas leave no psychological impact, then you run the risk of placing moral judgments on the injuries and long lasting disabilities granted to the villains.

Bad things don’t just happen to bad people. Life is, thankfully, not fair (after all, if it were it would mean you deserved anything terrible that happened to you, which isn’t true). Good things happen to bad people. Bad things happen to good people. Disability can happen to anyone, and adding disabilities to your characters and accommodations to your worlds only makes it richer. And perhaps it will leave both you and your readers with a greater empathy and understanding for the struggles disabled people face in the real world every day.

The Author Disability Checklist:

Am I afraid to put in disabled characters? Why?

Do only my antagonist characters have long lasting physical disabilities?

Are traumas that should leave long lasting chronic effects (such as chronic pain or PTSD) glossed over after they occur?

Are disabilities used for inspiration-porn (ie: I can overcome this issue and lead a comfortable life, so therefore anyone can with enough positive thinking and gumption)?

Do you think that disabilities will distract from your plot or make it harder to write?

If your answer was ‘yes’ to any of these, there is a good possibility that you have internalized, ableist biases that could benefit from a discussion with a disability advocate or sensitivity reader.

An important point to keep in mind: what is ‘disabling’ will change depending on your setting and cultures. A sci-fi novel set on a spaceship in zero gravity might mean that mobility issues are non-disabling. Sight in a society designed for the blind, or a physical inability to communicate (vocal communication in a society of only skin color changing communication, for example), would create new and different disabilities for you to tackle.

The Disabled Character Test

Inspired by the famous Bechdel Test (Does a movie have at least two women, who talk to each other, about something besides a man), I present The Disabled Character Test: Is there a disabled character, and no moral judgment attached to their disability? Like the Bechdel test, the Disabled Character Test is simple on the surface, yet frustratingly few shows, books, or video games pass this low bar. Keep in mind that, like the Bechdel test, this isn’t a test to say whether or not a given piece of media is good. Simply whether or not there is representation.

For our inaugural edition, I present Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Is there a disabled character: Geordi LaForge, a blind engineer who uses a visor and optic implant combination to see a greater range than the regular human eye is able to.

Is there a moral judgment attached to his disability: No! Geordi is not presented as a better person (inspiration-porn) or disabled-as-punishment (bad things only happen to bad people).

Geordi’s visor is shown to be both a solution to problems as well as a discomfort. The visor and implants need to be maintained or else he has chronic migraines (something many people with glasses can empathize with). The visor technology can often be used to solve issues that the crew of the Enterprise encounters, but the visor isn’t the only valuable aspect of Geordi. It is part of him, but it’s not the most important part of him. It doesn’t define him. Instead, Geordi is a brilliant engineer, best friends with Data, has a terrible love life, and just happens to need accommodation for his disability. It is part of him, but it isn’t what solely defines him.

Geordi LaForge is the first character I remember recognizing as disabled. It felt normal that of course Geordi couldn’t see without his visor as my mother has glasses. It wasn’t strange for me that, in a future with spaceships and transporters, of course there was an upgrade for glasses. Visual issues wouldn’t simply cease to exist, there would just be cool new tech to deal with it! I was a kid watching TNG, and when I saw Geordi for the first time I didn’t know about issues like eugenics. Or that eugenics and gene editing were solutions many authors and screenwriters would choose to explain away disabled people in their creative works.

About the Author

L.J. Stanton grew up in Calgary, Alberta. She attended the University of Guelph and is a former horse trainer and riding instructor.

After immigrating to the U.S., Stanton was diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. With her husband, they started the media company SWORD & BOARD LLC. Stanton’s debut novel, THE DYING SUN, THE GODS CHRONICLE: BOOK 1, won the NYC Big Book Fan Favorite in Fantasy and was a finalist for the National Indie Excellence Award. Stanton is a founding member of SCRIBE’S JOURNEY Podcast and AFTER THE... talk show on Twitch.

Stanton now lives in Orange County, California.

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#the stumbling block #disability #inclusivity #patreon #writing advice #author #writing #improve your writing

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