lamemaster

[lamemaster]

It's my 7-year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳 Can't believe this started as a friendly conversation with a porn bot I tried befriending lmao

#7 year tumblrversary #tumblr milestone #Lamemaster is 7

[lamemaster]

omg this...Ilovethissomuch. Need more of this gem.

Imagine washing up to Valinor

(Here it is. This is a oc x male reader just for your knowledge. I thank my friend for helping me with editing and hope you enjoy. Do share your thoughts from this fic if you feel like it)

(By the way I just thought this gif was prefect for this fic)

You can read OC’s intro from: here

Warnings: Thunderstorms, falling overboard, almost drowning, washing up to an unknown land, being only human around, mentions of body changing, home sickness, anxiety, inner turmoil, angts, homophobia, panic attacks, fluff, courtship and eventual marriage. 

—————————————————————————–

- The last thing you remember was sailing through the sea in a terrible thunderstorm. 

-It was raining and thundering, making you barely hear what your shipmates were trying to yell at you. 

-Then the rope broke, and the mast struck you off the ship. Water was everywhere, and you struggled to keep yourself above the surface. You tried to yell for your shipmates, but the ship just sailed farther away from you. 

-You were left at the mercy of the violent sea until it all went black. 

-You woke up, looking at the sky and seagulls. Your body was tired and bruised, but you were alive. It was shocking, but you quickly adapted and got up from the sand. 

-You felt strange. The shore didn’t look familiar, and you had sailed a lot to remember all the islands. Where exactly were you? 

Keep reading

#silmarillion x reader #human reader #middle earth #oc x reader #oc x male reader #middle earth x reader #silmarillion headcanon #elf x human reader

[lamemaster]

“I’m about to make you real jealous right now,” you said. 

Fucking gold 🤌 how can he ever recover from that?

Bodyguard From Another World

(A crack fic crossover between Silmarillion / Attack on Titan. Hope you like it)

Requested by @springfountain

Congrats on finishing your series anima! Great work on both of them👍So some crack idea for you:

A titan reader gets transported to Middle-Earth and has their right hand cut off during a fight. They look at Mae, a smug smirk on their face, and regenrate their hand saying "Imma make you real jealous now."

It would be lovely if you could write crack headcanon based on this for all Sons of Fëanor like you did with Raiden's handmaid.

Warnings: bad jokes, falling into a hole, reader being slightly lazy, losing limbs, (Maybe poor writing? It's a crack fic, who cares) growing back limbs, and more bad jokes.

-------------------------------------------

- You are not entirely sure how you got where you are now. 

- You remember it being some kind of scouting mission outside the walls. You and your team were safely chilling on a tree, taking a break, and then you found an interesting hole at the bottom of the tree. 

- You went to check it out since there were no Titans nearby, and then your team began to joke about rabbit holes and other worlds they read about in storybooks. 

- You were right in front of the hole, looking down and trying to see if you could see the bottom. Then, one of your teammates thought it would be a fun idea to smack you in the back, causing you to lose balance and fall into the hole. You were not quick enough to catch yourself in time, so you slipped in and fell into the bottomless hole screaming. 

- It happened so fast. You were blinded by the darkness and the ground beneath you was so slippery that you couldn’t catch onto anything to stop your violent sliding. Then, you saw light at the bottom and before you knew it, you were thrown out of the hole. 

- You violently rolled out of the hole. Thanks to your gear, you didn’t roll far and landed on your back. Groaning painfully on the ground, your back ached from the bruises and the dirt that covered the whole backside of your uniform. 

- When you recovered and sat up. You heard your teammate's shouts coming from the hole, but then to your fright and confusion, the tree suddenly started moving. It moved and twisted itself around, closing the hole and trapping you in the world you were now. 

- Luckily, the world you got trapped into was not so bad. There were no Titans, which was a huge plus. The only creatures you needed to worry about were orcs and some other type of creatures that tried to kill you, but honestly, you would take them any day than see another titan. 

- You found work in a guild that took bodyguard work and legal bounty jobs. It helped you get a place to live and get comfortable with your new life. 

- You sparsely used the 3DM gear since this world didn’t have a concept of using gas as a fuel. So, you had to count on your other skills to make yourself useful and earn good money in your job. 

- Even though you missed some of your friends. You didn't mind staying in this world. No Titans, no trauma. Even though orcs were just as troublesome and violent as titans, you preferred to fight someone of your own size than over ten-foot-tall monsters.  

- One day, your guild received a commission from the Noldor elves. Apparently, they needed more manpower to ensure the safety of a party that was to travel to another kingdom for a meeting. It had been a rough time for everyone, so it was understandable. You were picked into the group as you were one of the best fighters, and then you all were set to meet the elves for the time of the job.

- You didn’t pay attention when your group leader spoke with the tall red-haired elf, but when things were settled, you started your journey. You did take a chance to glance at all of them and figured they were the so-called sons of Feanor. 

- You would have preferred to go as quietly as possible but you then managed to catch up a conversation with a few of them. Apparently, you were quite short compared to others which caught their attention. You didn’t take kindly to that remark, but since they were taller than most in your group, you began to understand Captain Levi’s troubles, since he was the shortest man in the scout regiment. 

- The elf named Maglor was pleasant to talk to. You learned many interesting things about elves from him and you shared a few stories of your adventures with him. 

- The elf named Celegorm sometimes butted in, judging your size and experiences. They were just some jabs, and you were okay with him most of the time. 

- You didn’t converse with Curufin much. But you did notice that he seemed shorter than most of his brothers, and when he sent you a jab, you kinda of teased his height which then earned glares from him. 

- You mostly respectfully kept your distance from Caranthir. It’s not that you were afraid of him or his rumored temper. There was just nothing that could have sparked a discussion, and you both were fine with that.

- Surprisingly, you got quite well along with the twins. They heard your tease toward Curufin, and now you had been talking with them most of the journey. What was even better was that they seemed to share your sense of humor.

- You were quite laid back and nonserious. Your group leader often scolded you for slacking, and that seemed to have made a poor impression on the oldest of the brothers, Maedhros. 

- He even joined in the scolding and asked you to take things more seriously. 

- You knew how to be serious when needed, but when there were no immediate dangers, you saw no reason to be serious. 

- Maedhros then remarked that your lack of preparations during jobs will end up bringing you great harm and blah, blah, blaa. 

- Little did they know that you did not need to worry about injuries and such since you had regenerative abilities. 

- You were actually a titanshifter. You just managed to keep it hidden from your friends and the scout regiment and avoid receiving serious injuries that could have given you away. 

- Your guild knew about your abilities since you had ended up in a situation where you lost a leg and grew it back to save someone. 

- They were quite accepting, to your relief, and you might have confessed to them about your other abilities. They were curious but respectful since there was no need for you to shift into your titan form. 

- That was one of the reasons why you preferred to live in this world. You do not want to imagine the mess you would create if the scout regiment knew about your secret. 

- You continued sending jabs at Maedhros when he continued scolding you and then came a day when a large group of orcs attacked you. 

- It was a sudden ambush, even though, you all succeeded in fending off the attack. You protected the tall red-haired elf from a sneak attack and lost half of your right arm in the process. 

- The pain was nothing you had not experienced before, but it did send Maedhros in panic when he saw your bleeding arm. 

- But then you grinned at him. 

- “I’m about to make you real jealous right now,” you said. 

- He looked at you confused until you used your ability to regrow your arm.  

- Let’s just say, the look on his face was priceless. 

- Your group leader was quick to explain that you had such an ability, then forced you to apologize for making it a spectacle. 

- You apologized, and then you earned more reactions from his brothers. 

Maedhros 

- He would still be quite frightened and perhaps a little traumatized to see your once cut-off hand now grow back. 

- He was quite relieved that the leader of your group explained your ability and that it was normal for you to grow back your limbs. 

- Your group leader seemed pissed off for the remark you made and made you apologize for the show, which Maedhros gradually accepted. 

- Let’s just say, Maedhros did not underestimate you again and left you on your own things even if you still slacked off. 

Maglor

- He would be shocked, but then curious about your ability. 

- He would inquire a lot about it and question if you had more than one time ended up losing a limb during your adventures. 

- You were happy to explain it to him and that you could heal your wounds. 

- He might have gotten new song ideas about you, and couldn’t wait to get started with them once he got home. 

Celegorm 

- He would most likely be surprised and then impressed by your ability. 

- He would ask what other things you could grow back and probably found your remark toward Maedhros funny.  

Curufin 

- Shocked and will most likely try to make sense of your ability and why would a human possess such an ability. 

- Will not confront you about, and will most likely stay away from you. He’s hella weary of you now. 

- Does not enjoy when Celegorm makes strange scenarios and questions about it. 

Caranthir 

- Definitely, the one who will most likely be the most weirded out by your ability. 

- You two do not talk, but now he will most likely look your way and try to see if you could do other weird things. 

- He will most likely start doubting if you are even a human. 

- He is weary of you but does respect how you defended Maedhros. 

Ambarussa 

- Not too weirded out by your ability since they have probably seen stranger things. 

- Will ask questions and be amazed by other things you could do. 

- Would probably laugh if you asked Maedhros if he needed a hand with your severed arm.

- You are pretty unhinged with your sense of humor.

#silmarillion x reader #middle earth x reader #silmarillion imagines #feanorians x reader #crack fic #aot crossover #attack on titan

[lamemaster]

Feanor Walking You Down The Aisle

Request: Hello, Mina darling, can I please request some small headcanons about asking Feänor to walk you down the aisle? The reader is marrying one of his sons (unmentioned) and she has no family in her life to do it, so she asks Feänor? Thank you for considering, darling. - Anon

A/N: This was fun to write! Thanks for requesting this!

◈ Growing up without a stable family in your life left you with no one. Not once had you ever felt welcomed or a part of the community until you met one of the Princes of the Noldor. A son of the Crown Prince Fëanáro fell in love with you without questioning your background at all.

◈ His family did all that they could to make you feel welcome, not to mention his brothers ensuring that you were a victim of all their daily bullying and antics to make you feel even more like family.

◈ His mother pitied and loved you tremendously, wanting nothing more than to take you in immediately. Nerdanel was ecstatic when she learnt of the betrothment news, meaning that you were about to become an official family. However, there was just one issue at hand, a lack of a father to walk you down the aisle and give you away to your husband.

◈ The only stable male figure in your life was your betrothed’s father and you were unsure if he would be willing to walk down the aisle and give you away to his son. Not once were you on the receiving end of his temper or ill-manners a few people had spoken about, so it seemed all well to make the request.

◈ You’re nervous about the request, so you ask your betrothal if he could arrange a brunch or tea for all three of you to meet as the wedding is approaching. There, you sat, appearing like a bag of jitters before Feanor who was confused at your uneasiness.

◈ In the beginning, everything was running smoothly at the behest of your beloved. Aware of your nerves, he took over and got the conversation rolling between him and his father, occasionally including you at certain times appropriate to throw the question out there.

◈ But you’re unable to for the greater part of the conversation. So Feanor interjects, aware that you have something on your mind and requests if he should depart to give you and his son alone time to deal with the matter.

◈ At his thoughtfulness, your words tumbled out your mouth before you even knew it, and there you confessed your wish to have him walk you down the aisle as your father.

◈ On Feanor’s end, he was appalled that you would have considered him so high in your eyes to fulfil that offer. Being seen not only as your father-in-law but as an actual fatherly figure makes him forego considering and directly accepting.   

◈ He ignores the fact that you blurted it out in a vomit of random syllables and removes himself from his chair to usher you into a stance. He is gentle and soft as he celebrates your request with a fatherly embrace and soft words that put him into a chokehold.

◈ “You have brought great joy to me onya. It would be foolish of me to reject your wonderful offer.”

◈ On your big day, any nerves that you had were all washed away by Feanor’s presence at your side as he stood at the end of the aisle bequeathing courage and reassurance that he won’t let you fall or slip up. “It is a father’s job to never let his child fall.”

◈ Your entire wedding ceremony passes in bliss as Feanor takes his time to guide you down the aisle, he even offers his handkerchief to you when you teared up at the altar. During the entire ceremony, he sits patiently with a smile at the memory of walking you down the aisle as his child.

◈ Furthermore, to sink it in that you consider him as a father figure, for the father-daughter dance, you request that he join you on the floor to share that moment with you.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @addaigio @lamemaster @stormchaser819

#feanor x daugther!reader #feanor headcanon #feanor x platonic!reader #doodlepops writings ✨ #so much fluff #although comparing our tempraments Feanor is more my dad than any Feanorian

[lamemaster]

Loving the Maelstrom

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Perks of marrying a writer. Nelyafinwe pov.

AN: Istg I get the most random ideas while working out.

Curvo bounced the fussing Tyelpe in his arms, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Maitimo sighed for the what felt like the hundredth time that evening. He glanced across the room at you, your face lit by the flickering firelight. A vicious smirk was etched upon your lips, your eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as you stared into some unseen distance. "She's writing a villainess," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

The murmur seemed to quench everyone's curiosity, at least momentarily. Except for Tyelkormo, who perked up at the revelation. "A villainess?" he echoed, his eyes wide with fascination. "Is that why Kano's been playing such… ominous tunes lately?" he asked, directing his question towards a very tired-looking Nelyafinwe.

Before Nelyafinwe could muster a reply, Moryo, ever the impatient one, interjected. "Makalaure, for the love of Illuvatar, can we please have a normal tune?" he pleaded, his voice laced with exasperation

Both you and Kano paused for a fleeting second. Your minds snapped into the present world before grinning widely and Kano launched into another melancholy somber tune. This time, accompanied by your booming evil laughter. 

Such perhaps was the fate of loving a writer. He had known it well as Kano’s brother. A songwriter and musician's angst was familiar to Maitimo. And yours was similar yet, so achingly different.

Where Kano’s music seldom bled into his life, your words lingered in a pervasive presence. The angst of separated lovers, fervor of a brewing war, or the grit of a dwindling hero, you were lost in your worlds even before Maitimo met you. 

And when he did meet you, he also met your worlds. Gay, morose, bleak, grand, your worlds were his now. Your character settled into his thoughts. And sometimes, they carried a part of him or his family. Small fragments of your life that bled into your worlds. 

He liked your never-ending ramblings about a crooked character or exceptionally hard-to-write down plot. And he witnessed your fall into the world who possessed your mind and heart. 

Despite the differences in art, you and Kano were inseparable in the creation of art. His tunes often rang out from your and Maitimo’s home as you scribbled away another tale. While Kano’s music was given a direction of melodies from the stories you wove into the tunes he tinkered around with. 

And this was the rare occasion where both you and his brother were taken by a story so bewitching that from the strums of Kano’s harp to the rouge of your lips- all was tainted with a lingering shade of sinister. 

It had been a week since your robes had been swapped for uncanny dark silken gowns, very much not your usual choice of color, your nails were painted a hue darker almost bloodlike. Even the decor of your study had shifted ambiance similar to that of the Maiar of Namo.

On several occasions, Maitimo had seen you stir your dinner with a smile so venomous that he sniffed his food twice before eating it. 

You donned a gait so seductive that he, almost was tempted to discard the weekly family dinner with his parents. Yet, despite the unease that gnawed at him, Maitimo couldn't deny the jolt of excitement that shot through him when your newly painted nails, tipped with a crimson that seemed to mock innocence, brushed against his arm.

“I just hope sister-in-law and Kano are not going down the Mairon route of life.” Curufin’s words brought Maitimo back to the present. 

The dinner had ended surprisingly well. Kano’s company had perhaps allowed you to shed the world that captivated you these days for a few moments. You were back to your normal self smiling by his side. Helping his mother and brothers set up the dinner table as twins climbed all over Maitimo.

It was only later in the night when his breath shuddered. He gasped as your lips ghosted over his ears. Filthy words spoken without a care of the oddly lonely alley on the way back to your home. Words so daringly sacrilegious that they would have sent a Vanya to the halls of Irmo. 

Maitimo however, was nothing if not immune to the intricacies of your play and definitely not a faint-hearted Vanya. Pulling you closer in his arms, he indulged your little world. Tracing the shape of your lips with his fingers, he kissed you with a wicked smile. 

Nelyafinwe loved every part of you. Even the fucking crazy ones. 

(This one definitely more than the angsty lovers)

#silmarillion x reader #the silmarillion #maedhros x reader #fluff #maglor #maedhros fluff #drabble #Caranthir #little Tyelpe

[lamemaster]

Events

Me trying to explain another elaborate event to my followers:

Okay but fr can we consider one where you chose one of your favorite ships and reader pov is one of the characters from that ship? It's like roleplaying...(Someone help me frame this event fr)

Or the request specifiies the elf of their choice and I chose one from the wheel and write a pieces.

(pls don't judge me I love events for some reason)

#event #help needed

[lamemaster]

I love this ship both romantically and platonically. I think it is so tender and loving like most characters written by Tolkien are. Beor (excuse the missing accent I am too lazy) and Finrod are an insight into how tight men and elves could have been if Arda had been umarred. If men and elves did not get estranged like they did.

"For the hearts of true Men uprise in joy to behold the true likeness of the First-born, their elder kindred; and this joy nothing evil can counterfeit" (Morgoth's Ring, 225).

(Someone pleaseee write more Finrod x Beor😭)

Finrod/Bëor doesn’t seem to be a popular ship and I wonder why! It’s right there.

Finwë proves Elves can indeed love more than once, so this doesn’t mean Finrod doesn’t love Amarië too. But just look at the facts!

Finrod appears out of nowhere like a knight in shining armor to bless and teach and spend time with Bëor and his people.

Bëor leaves behind all his people to spend the rest of his days with Finrod.

Finrod discourages Aegnor and Andreth from being together - why would he do this?? Because it wasn’t just out of knowledge of different fates. It was out of personal experience. All he feels is agony that his beloved Bëor is gone and out of his reach forever and he doesn’t want his brother to go through the same thing.

He swears his oath to Barahir and gives him his ring not just because he saved his life but because Barahir is descended directly from Bëor and looks like him.

He helps Beren not just because of the oath, but to redeem himself for his mistake in discouraging Aegnor from enjoying the time he could’ve had with Andreth, however short. With no idea what Lúthien will ultimately do, he sees her and Beren’s love as another doomed and fleeting love, but he has experienced this himself, and finally realizes it is ultimately worth any price. So he lays down his life to ensure Beren will have the chance that he had but also took from his brother.

One of the most tragic love stories in the history of Arda is right there under our noses.

#finrod #finrod felagund #beor #house of beor #tolkien legendarium #the silmarillion #first age #crying because I need this

[lamemaster]

Is 'What in the Hell is Happening Event' still ongoing?

Unfortunately no but you are welcome to send in a request for au and character you wish to read for!

#asks

[lamemaster]

Feast of Blades

TW: Blood, gore, torture (not much but mentioned)

Pairing: Sauron x Reader

Genre: Grim-dark fantasy

Summary: The world you fought to save, the world promised to both Men and Elves, was being stolen. The Firstborn, once allies, turned into conquerors, rewriting history with the ink of lies.

Chapters: 1/ ?

AN: Very cannon divergent do not read if you don't like that ;) (unreliable narrators are lingering in this fic)

Sweat stung your eyes as your body contorted under the invisible weight. A thousand searing blisters erupted across your skin, each one a tiny scream of pain. Your bones groaned in protest, threatening to shatter under the relentless pressure. 

You could feel the claws of death prying you from the face of the Earth as it had done for all your ancestors. But you held on. You did not deserve to die yet. You will not accept whatever gift your creator held in the world beyond this one. Not until you had your revenge. 

Gritting your teeth, you bowed your head, the unforgiving earth digging into your bloodied palms. "Give me the power," you rasped, your voice hoarse with agony. "One chance. Turn me into whatever they crave the most. Make me desired by their kind and I will be their perfect weapon. I will sow discord within their ranks, bring chaos to their kingdoms. Just… let me live."

A chilling laugh echoed through the cavernous hall.  Though unseen, you felt the presence shift on its obsidian throne. "And why should I grant such a boon?" a voice like silk wrapped around razor blades slithered into the darkness.  A hint of amusement danced around the edges of the question, offering a sliver of hope amidst the despair.

"Because I cannot die," you hissed, channeling your desperation into defiance.  "Their kind fear oblivion, but I crave to destroy everything they hold dear. I need to live to repay the debt owed to my ancestors. I will burn their palaces to the ground, raze their cities to ash. Let them drown in their own fear! I cannot die, my Lord."

Sauron's chortle morphed into a chilling chuckle, the sound echoing through the cavernous hall. He leaned forward, the darkness swirling around him momentarily revealing a single, glowing red eye. The knowing glint in that eye confirmed your worst fears – he remembered you.

“My lord has chosen to side with the firstborn and so have I. What makes you believe that I, will help you human?” The eye narrowed in mirth.

"The Battle of Unnumbered Tears," you spat, your voice shaking with a mixture of defiance and desperation. "A victory for Men, but not without cost. It was your humiliation, wasn't it? For failing to see the treachery in the East. You still burn with that humiliation, Lord Mairon, don't you?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Sauron's face, quickly masked by a sardonic smile. "A clever ploy, mortal," he purred. "You play on old wounds, hoping to stir rebellion in a servant who has long since accepted his place. But tell me, what makes you think I would choose your fleeting rage over the power I wield at my Lord Melkor's side?"

"And you think," he continued, his voice a silken rasp, "that I, who bore the brunt of Melkor's wrath, would stoop to further your pathetic vendetta?"  A flicker of something akin to amusement sparked in his gaze. 

Decades. It had been decades since the world had shifted beneath your feet, leaving you scrambling for purchase on the treacherous slope of survival. 

Back then, your face, unmarred by the lines of time and the etchings of despair, held the youthful confidence of a captain under Lord Ulfang. Hope, naive and bright, had fueled your journey West, following tales of a gleaming Elven prince who promised salvation for the East.

You had fought side-by-side with the Firstborn then, battling orcs, goblins, and the tide of darkness Melkor unleashed upon Middle-earth.

Wide-eyed and awestruck by the ethereal beauty of your allies, you truly believed in the stories of unity and coexistence. It was the only way, your elders had said, to secure a future for your people, to stave off the encroaching famine that gnawed at the very heart of the East.

But victory, fleeting and bittersweet, had turned to ash in your mouth. The celebrations around meager rations, a mockery of their triumph, were soon replaced by a chilling realization.

The world you fought to save, the world promised to both Men and Elves, was being stolen. The Firstborn, once allies, turned into conquerors, rewriting history with the ink of lies. The lie spread like wildfire. Treachery of the Easterlings, they called it, twisting narratives to absolve their own thirst for power. Your people, once allies, became the scapegoats in a matter of days.

The memory of Lord Ulfang's screams still echoed in the desolate chambers of your mind. Skinned alive in the cell that held you and 20 others. His body left in the cell until some in the desperation of hunger nibbled on stiff fingers. 

"They hunted us," you spat, a feral snarl twisting your features.  "Like deer in the twilight, they stalked our fields, their laughter echoing as they cut down our men.  Our women, they did not kill, but worse.  They violated them in the name of their twisted breeding programs, forcing them to bear a generation of half-elven slaves."

Your voice cracked, the memory a searing brand on your soul.  "And now, they lord over the remnants of our people, herding us into gilded cages they call cities. The Children of Eru, they proclaim themselves!  Eru who turned a deaf ear to our pleas, who allowed our homes to be burned and our families to be torn apart!" Fury choked your voice, tears welling in your eyes.

You slammed your fist against the cold stone floor, the sound echoing through the cavernous hall. "I want to burn his world!  This song of creation, this symphony of suffering – I want to silence it all!  Eru who favored the Firstborn and left us to bleed in the dust. He doesn't deserve this world, this song!"

Tears streamed down your face, a mixture of rage and despair. You lurched to your knees before Sauron's unseen throne. "I offer you more than just my mortality, Lord Mairon. I offer you my song, the song of a people wronged, a song fueled by fury. Take my life force, take my flame imperishable, and use it to forge a weapon that will shatter the foundations of Eru's creation! I offer chaos."

The coarse fabric of a cloak brushed against your cheek, the scent of pine needles and lavender filling your nostrils. A low murmur of Elvish, its melody both beautiful and alien, filled your ears. You squeezed your eyelids shut, feigning unconsciousness, as another voice, baritone and familiar, spoke.

"We couldn't just leave her there," it said, a hint of exasperation lacing the words.  "Not with Lady Aeredhel being with us."

A heavy sigh followed, and you felt the soft press of a body settling beside you.  The floor beneath you was cool and smooth, a stark contrast to the rough earth you were used to. "Is she another one of your rescues, Glorfindel?" the newcomer inquired, pronouncing the name with a touch of reverence.

Recognition jolted through you. Gondolin. Sauron had chosen Gondolin as your first target.

A cold certainty settled over you, replacing the flicker of doubt.  His motives – the machinations of a fallen Maia – did not matter.  All that mattered was the delicious sting of vengeance, the promise of seeing the world burn as brightly as the hatred that consumed you. You were a spark, a tiny ember, but fanned by the winds of your suffering, you would become an inferno.

Let Sauron play his games. Let him dangle the promise of power and destruction. You would use him, twist him to your will, until Gondolin lay in ruins and the Elven screams echoed through the halls of Eru himself. In the end, there would be only one victor: you.

Keeping your eyes squeezed shut, you strained to catch every murmur. Turgon's head.  A monstrous image filled your mind's eye, a centerpiece for the feast you would prepare for Sauron. But the feast had to begin somewhere, and a wicked smile played on your lips beneath the mask of unconsciousness.

The House of the Golden Flower. The perfect place to start. Your "magnanimous rescuer," Glorfindel, would soon learn the true cost of his misplaced kindness.

A groan escaped your lips, weak and trembling. You cracked open an eye, feigning disorientation as you met the gaze of a golden-haired Elf, who peered at you with the lingering entitlement of a savior. 

#silmarillion x reader #the silmarillion #sauron x reader #cannon divergence #angst #grim dark #glorfindel x reader #morally grey characters #unreliable narrators

[lamemaster]

This is so cute. It elicited emotions.

Day 1: childhood

#the silmarillion #makalaurë #maedhros #silmarillion epistolary

[lamemaster]

Maedhros spelled as Maidros in The Histories of Middle Earth gives me a massive ick.

Also, I love his name Russandol. He's such a cutie patootie his name has the word doll in it.

#Poll #Maedhros #Maidros #brain rot of the day

[lamemaster]

What in the Hell is Happening Event Masterlist

Thank you everyone for participating 🥰

Debt to be Repaid - Maglor - Hospital au

Lord of Tomes - Maedhros - Library au

Gods Who Kneel - Fingon - Mythology au

From One World to Another - Aegnor - Hogwarts au

The Beer Slayer - Glorfindel - College au

A Penance Unwanted - Gwindor - Timeloop au

Guard the Oak - Malbung - Prison au

Think of Turtles Dammit - Finrod - Villain x Hero au

#event #masterlist

[lamemaster]

Think of Turtles Dammit

Request: Greetings! I'm not sure if you are still doing the 'what the hell is happening?' Event but if you are, might I trouble you with a finrod request?

Pairing: Finrod x Reader

Genre: Hero x Villain au

AN: I really wanted to write Finrod so bad so thanks for requesting! This is the last request for this event so enjoy! (I love this gif)

(What in the Hell is Happening Event)

How the hell did no one recognize him? You wondered barely stifling a laugh at the elf buried in his books in the library. Blindlingly sun-spun hair, straight bridge of the nose, nimble fingers flipping through pages. 

How had no one noticed that legendary hero was beyond you? "Elves," you muttered under your breath, the amusement bubbling over into a barely audible chuckle. "For all their grace and otherworldly beauty, subtlety seems to be beyond them."

It took you one look at him passing for lectures that you recognized him, your supposed nemesis. Who by the virtue of his pure heart hoped for a mask to conceal his identity. 

You had to on several occasions tip journalists falsely to avoid, your darling nemesis’ identity getting leaked. It was easy to nudge the paparazzi to some random blonde dude with enough money to bribe them. 

Mustering a semblance of innocence, you asked, "May I sit here?" Finrod looked up, surprised. His eyes, the color of stormy skies, held a flicker of recognition that vanished as quickly as it appeared. He simply nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. No accusation, no challenge, just a quiet acceptance.

Part of you wanted to expose him, to shatter this domestic facade and revel in the chaos. But another, quieter part, found itself oddly charmed. There was something disarming about seeing Finrod so…ordinary. Here, he wasn't the valiant hero or your supposed nemesis. Here, he was just Ingoldo, a bookish elf with a thirst for knowledge.

His fate as a hero had been sealed by a long stemming line of heroic ancestors as was yours by your villainous predecessors. It wasn’t awful but the part of it not being your choice chafed at your conscience all the time. 

Heroes seemed unbothered by it. Proud even, to be bound to a noble destiny.

Finrod, however, was different.  He questioned, he debated, even in the midst of battle. You hadn't stopped him that time he launched into a passionate diatribe about the environmental impact of plastic straws. In fact, you'd goaded him on, relishing the way his brow furrowed in genuine concern. It was infuriating, and yet...endearing.

As you stole a glance at his profile, a thought wormed its way into your mind.

Leaving your bag next to the unsuspecting hero, you decided to indulge the first impulse, a mischievous glint sparking in your eyes. A storm of playful chaos was brewing in your mind.

Minutes later, you reappeared at your seat, a triumphant grin plastered across your face. Finrod, momentarily startled by your return, looked up from his book, only to return his gaze to the pages as soon  as you settled in.

But you weren't done yet.  With a flourish, you placed your purchase on the table – a vibrantly colored bubble tea, complete with a gloriously oversized plastic straw.

You watched, barely containing your laughter, as Finrod's eyes widened. The internal monologue you knew so well played out on his face. First, surprise, then a flicker of recognition, followed by the inevitable flash of images – choking turtles, polluted oceans, the environmental apocalypse you knew he secretly worried about.

Finally, he turned to you, his lips pursed in a look of mock disapproval, a look you'd seen countless times before during your battles.

A strangled cough escaped Finrod's throat, a valiant attempt to mask the look of utter horror that had overtaken his face. No sooner had the plastic monstrosity made its debut than a flimsy paper straw materialized in his hand, offered to you with a hopeful glint in his twilight eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning complete bewilderment. "Paper?" you questioned, stretching out the word as if it were some foreign concept.

Finrod's shoulders slumped in a display of utter defeat. "Paper straws are better," he mumbled, the conviction in his voice tinged with the faintest hint of disappointment.

Finrod, the bane of your existence, the embodiment of all that was good and annoying, carried paper straws in his bag. And people dared to reject them? The audacity! This was a villainous act you could not abide by.

 Only you got to annoy this hero. Finrod carried paper straws in his bag and people ought to accept them. That was the truth you lived by. No other way around it. The slight hesitation and acceptance of expected rejection did not suit Finrod.

Taking the flimsy paper straw with exaggerated reluctance, you managed to stifle a smile. 

It wasn’t the proudest moment of your villainous history when you accepted the straw. A god-awful paper straw. But no one needed to know. It was worth the smile on your hero’s face.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #finrod x reader #hero x villain au #drabble #fluff #loved writing this #what in the hell is happening

[lamemaster]

Guard the Oak

Request: I would like to request Mablung for 'Spin The Wheel ' event. 🌹🥺

Pairing: Malbung x Reader

Genre: Prison au

AN: Annon thanks for requesting! ISTG Beleg won't leave me alone today. I hope you enjoy this (What in the Hell is Happening Event)

"Not that I mind," you spoke into the silent company of the most handsome elves you'd ever seen. "But these bindings are a bit too tight, even for my twisted tastes."

They looked back at you, confusion etched on their beautiful faces. Your attempt at humor, laced with a hint of nervousness, seemed to fly right over their heads. Very silvery, well-braided heads, you noted, trying to distract yourself from the uncomfortable tightness of the ropes.

The most captivating of them all was their magnificent Captain, or whatever his title was – something your mangled Elvish failed to accurately translate. He exuded an aura of authority, his gaze sharp and assessing.  The other Elf beside you, perhaps another captain of some sort, seemed slightly less intimidating.

"A bit excessive, isn't it?" you decided to try striking up a conversation, piecing together whatever Elvish phrases you could remember. "Two captains for a petty theft?"

"He's a Captain," the one you presumed to be less high-ranking, Beleg, pointed towards the other Elf, "I am a Marchwarden." Not that the distinction held much meaning to you at the moment.

"As for the theft," he continued, his voice low and melodic, "felling trees from our sacred woods is hardly a 'little' thing."  His smile faded, replaced by a seriousness that mirrored the Captain's.

You winced internally. 

“It‘s just trees.” You shrug "They grow back, right? They're made to be used."

Malbung scoffed, a sound that surprised you coming from his usually stoic face. And then he proceeded to rock your world by replying in perfect Westeros, "Then that must justify every ill action of evil. For men are birthed to die."

Your jaw dropped. This uptight Elf not only understood your mangled Elvish, but he spoke Westron fluently as well?  "Ha!" you finally managed, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. "So the Elf speaks the tongue of Men. And speaks it well enough to compare us to trees!"

"I wouldn't dare wrong trees like that," he replied smoothly, his expression unreadable. As if on cue, a branch snagged on the elaborate braid in his hair, tugging playfully. For a split second, a look of exasperation flickered in his eyes before he schooled his features back into their usual stoicism.

"Pfft," you broke out in laughter. "I would be concerned if orcs started making furniture out of men." Your laughter echoed through the clearing, bouncing off the ancient trees. 

Beleg, next to you, seemed most put off by the Men as furniture comment. He shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowing.

"So you are a woodworker?" he asked tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smirked at your own immature glee. "You could say that."

Malbung watched as you settled in your cell, humming a tune that was more cheerful than the situation warranted. You'd managed to barter your way down from imprisonment to a week of– planting saplings to replace the "borrowed" branches. It wasn't ideal, but it beat a cold stone floor.

"A week for a majestic oak," Malbung declared, a hint of amusement in his voice despite himself.

"And will you be overseeing the punishment, Captain?" you asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Yes," he replied, his gaze meeting yours for a beat longer than necessary.

You leaned forward, a playful glint in your eyes. "Then we shall see each other more often than a week. For I am quite fond of 'borrowing' oaks, especially the ones with captivating Elven captains guarding them."

#silmarillion x reader #Malbung x Reader #what in the hell is happening event #fluff #prison au #Beleg

[lamemaster]

A Penance Unwanted

Request: Hi!🙂 How are you? ❤️Can you please spin the wheel for Gwindor? Thanks 💝✨️

Pairing: Gwindor x Reader

Genre: Timeloop au

AN: @mairablue Thanks for requesting!! Gwindor is awesome gotta love him. Such a fun concept. (What in the Hell is Happening Event)

“God dammit! You should have held him.” You groan watching Beleg die for the 25th time. Gwindor winced next to you. And from a distance you both watched Turin lament in the same low groaning pitch for the same 25th time. 

“I couldn’t have done that!” Gwindor replied indignantly. “Beleg wouldn’t listen. Look at these arms, do you think I can stop Cuthalion? You should have killed the orcs and then hit Turin on the head or something.” 

There had been a time when Beleg’s death daunted both Gwindor and you into silence. But now, it was a recurring event. Painful but numbed by the inevitable recurrence. 

You were back at it again. Stuck in the storyline of Turin and Beleg’s tragedy. Whatever deity found this funny had a messed-up sense of humor. 

"Next time, take Beleg through a longer route," you muttered, forming yet another plan, your voice heavy with a weariness born of repetition. "I'll try to find a way to poison the orcs, and hopefully, knock Turin out before he…" You trailed off, the futility of the task gnawing at you. But giving up wasn't an option. There had to be a way to break the loop, a way to alter the story.

"I swear to god if this is damned Melkor," you muttered, waiting for the inevitable reset. For both you and Gwindor to return to the past, to relive Beleg's death, and Turin's despair.

Knocking out Beleg, setting traps, and almost battling the thought of driving your sword through the emo king of Arda. This stupid loop tested you in every way. And most of all Gwindor who, unlike you, couldn't escape the grasp of Melkor's evil. The weight of his struggle, the subtle changes in his personality with each loop, filled you with a cold dread.

“Melkor can only so long imprison the children of Illuvatar,” Gwindor replied gently. His voice- so peaceful despite the pain he witnessed every reset. Taking your hand in his he continued, “We will find a way. One way or another you will return to your world and I will come to bear my fate.” There was this amazing elf. Comforting you when the hell broke loose around him. 

There was something truly extraordinary about this elf. Here he was, trapped in an endless cycle of loss, yet he offered you comfort when the world around him crumbled.  You couldn't help but wonder if it was the same unwavering faith in the good that led to his capture in the first place. 

It wasn't the scars or marks of torture that marred his once-handsome face that hurt you most, but the sheer unfairness of it all. He, who deserved a life filled with music and laughter, was trapped in this nightmarish cycle, forced to relive his torment while offering you solace.

"It isn't me you should be comforting," you chuckled, the sound hollow even to your own ears. "This is my penance. A fate that has led me to this nightmare, a well-deserved one." You didn't remember much of your world, only flashes – the resentful faces of strangers contorted in anger, the screaming voices that echoed relentlessly in your head, driving you to the teetering edge of insanity. You remembered everything but Gwindor from the rotten book you found in your dingy cell, the only companion in your solitary confinement.

The same one who now sat beside you, his hand warm against yours, a beacon of comfort in this unending darkness. "I deserve this. You don't," you whispered, the words heavy with a self-loathing you couldn't quite explain. He, who you sometimes questioned was real or a figment conjured by your fractured mind.

No. You wouldn't accept this twisted fate. You would break the loop, not just for your own sake, but for Gwindor's. Even if it meant defying the very fabric of this story, you would find a way to free him from Melkor's clutches.

Fuck Melkor, Ocrs, Turin, Valar, Illuvatar, and his wretched song. You were going to tear it all apart.

#silmarillion x reader #what in the hell is happening event #gwindor x reader #timeloop au #Beleg #Turin

[lamemaster]

The Beer Slayer

Request: Could you do Glorfindel for the what the hell is happening event? All the situations your writing for feel so refreshing and I quite like your writing by the way!

Pairing: Glorfindel x Reader

Genre: College au

AN: Thanks for requesting!! I am glad you like my writing. (What in the Hell is Happening Event)

A throbbing headache assaulted Glorfindel the moment he woke up. The world swam before his eyes, and the remnants of last night's festivities threatened to erupt from his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to piece together the fragmented memories of the previous evening.  

There was the pub, of course, celebrating the end of a particularly grueling exam week. And then… there was you. Laughter, shared stories, a warmth that spread through him that had nothing to do with the ale. He vaguely recalled kissing you, the memory sending a jolt through him.

A gentle shake on the shoulder startled him from his reverie. He squinted open his eyes to see your glorious form silhouetted against the window. You were dressed in something ridiculously impractical – thigh-high boots? In your dorm room? Or were you in his room? His brain, still sluggish from the hangover, couldn't quite grasp the logic.

"We have Anth 364 in 15 and I am not driving you there," you declared, your voice laced with amusement. You zipped up those ridiculous boots, the sound strangely hypnotic. A frown creased your brow as you leaned closer.  "Glorfindel, can you hear me? Wake up!"

The warmth of your breath tickled his ear, and Glorfindel's heart hammered against his ribs. He was this close to you, close enough to feel the heat radiating from your body. His traitorous lips twitched, the memory of your almost-kiss. But then you spoke again, your voice laced with a familiar authority that snapped him back to reality.

"Get dressed, our group needs to present this week." There you were, his group leader – the one person who could turn from a pleasurable fantasy into a focused, albeit slightly grouchy, leader. He forced a smile, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

That's how you both met. A silly group project for a gen-ed that every single one of your group members made a point to whine about. And, you, the biochem major somehow found yourself leading a pack of finance students who operated on "good vibes only" logic.  You were a force of nature in that class, a try-hard who wouldn't hesitate to pull an all-nighter or two to get an A.

He loved you, the minute you self-designated yourself as the leader in that class full of idgafs. There was something undeniably attractive about your determination, the way your brow furrowed in concentration and your eyes sparkled with a competitive fire.

Glorfindel would not have believed last night to be true if not for your presence in his room. How he had ended up belting out karaoke with you, the picture of drunken abandon, was a complete mystery.  And the even bigger mystery was how you, the ever-responsible leader, had somehow ended up at his favorite bar at the exact right time.  Perhaps it was fate, or maybe it was just the cheap beer specials.

"Right," he mumbled, scrambling out of bed. "Presentation… yes, of course. Wouldn't want to let the team down, would we?" He avoided your gaze, a blush creeping up his neck. The group presentation suddenly felt like a monumental task, a distraction he desperately needed from the confusing feelings you stirred within him.

But as he stole a glance at you, his heart skipped a beat. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this biochem brainiac than he initially thought. And maybe, just maybe, last night wasn't a fluke.

He for once couldn't find himself to skip a single class with you in it. The looming specter of the semester ending sent a shiver down his spine. The thought of diverging paths, of your focused gaze no longer seeking his across the lecture hall, was unbearable. He had to do something, anything, to keep you in his life.

And so, dragging his glorious nude self from the bed, Glorfindel dressed faster than light. Following you, to get the ride that you never offered. “Wait for me!” He called after you, knowing full well that a ride in your well loved Honda Civic was not to be missed.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #glorfindel x reader #what in the hell is happening event #no finance majors were harmed in the making of this fic

[lamemaster]