#letter orc in person

[vera-simik]

Again, a year closer to being 30... 😅✨

[letter-orcs-art]

Art v Artist 2011

My eyes call for a good dose of bleach... but I thought it would be funny to post it 😄

[vera-simik]

Ještě jednou a lépe 😄

Takže lidi, pěkně slavte zlato a nezapomeňte poslat Reinhardovi velký fakáč do pekla

[strawberrypoundtown]

Orc x Halforc!Fem!Reader: Part 2

After returning to your tent, you attempt to sneak off to let off some steam. However, you get caught quickly and things escalate from there...

Contains: pregnancy risk, breeding kink, chasing, wrestling, pinning, physical restraining, degradation, spanking, biting

'Fuck, shit, god I can't do this. I have to think of something.'

You were more than a little embarrassed and flustered as you laid in your bed, pretending to be asleep. After finding out Gan was going to be the one watching over you, you had no idea what to think. You tried to play off your short circuit brain and after some small talk excusedyourself to go lay down, saying you had a headache. How were you supposed to find a mate when Gan is the one watching over you? Whenever he was around, you were a puddle. You couldn't think of any person you wanted as your mate other than him. He was the best option, surely. Your brother may not be keen on the idea, but the rest of your family would think he would be the best option for you.

The only issue was that you didn't know if he would even hope to feel the same way about you. He always treated you with nothing but respect and kindness, but something about it felt much more withdrawn compared to when he would act similarly with other females in the clan. He would seem to be more playful, flirty even. He was already almost 26, just a couple years older than you. He never seemed to want anything serious from what you had heard. Oh no. Maybe he only saw you as a sister? Maybe he just wasn't the type to want a mate?

You rolled onto your back and let out a sigh. You needed to let off some steam. You had to get out of here. You rubbed your eyes before carefully sitting up. Gan was right outside your tent. He at least let you have that much privacy, but it was almost worse that he was right there. You wanted him to walk in and take you already. You wanted his strong hands to hold you down and give you his big, hard cock. You wanted him to fill you with his cum. To make you all his. That would definitely help you relax.

A gruff cough outside your tent broke you out of your horny daze, bringing you back to reality. You had to think of a way to get out of here. You needed to get away from Gan without him knowing. You can't think straight with him right there.

You could sneak out from behind your tent easily. You had a flap on your tent behind a chest, but someone might see you run off. You had to peak and see if anyone was there first, but Gan might hear you moving things and wonder what's going on. You sat on the edge of your bed as you pondered your options. You got up and snatched a smaller letter opener from your desk. You walk over to the chest and carefully using the sharp end to cut a small slit in the tent, just big enough to peak through.

You mentally pat yourself on the back for your creativity. You could sew it up if anyone noticed it anyways. At least that was one issue solved. You take a quick look out the small hole and didn't see anyone. Perfect. Time to try and move the chest in front of the escape spot as quietly as possible.

"(Y/n)?" You heard from outside your tent just ss you were about to stsrt moving the chest. The from entrance, thankfully. It was Gan. You loved it when he said your name. You sighed and figured it would be better to walk over the entrance. Maybe you could get him distracted with something else.

"Yes Gan?" You say as you opened the flaps of your tent, closing them behind you as you stepped out and stared up at Gan. He stared down at you and rolled his eyes.

"I was just going to ask how you were feeling. Were you thinking of going on a walk?" He said with a bit more sass in his voice than you were comfortable with. However, you face remained unfazed as you rolled your eyes yourself.

"No. I was actually going to ask if you could get me an apple. I'm a bit hungry and forgot to grab anything earlier." You asked him, genuinely a bit hungry, but you could easily find food outside of camp. You knew where the apple trees were. "Please?" You said, with a small pout. How could he say no to that face?

"Fine. Just don't go anywhere." He grumbled after a long pause. He avoided your gaze as he walked off towards the food tent. Now with Gan out of the way, you could slip out the back without anyone noticing. I mean, Gan would notice when he got back, but what was he gonna do? Tell your parents?

You quickly went back inside your tent, moving the chest out of the way before quickly peaking through the hole again. After making sure the path was clear, you lifted the flap and started to move through it. However, fate was not on your side.

"Hey (Y/n), I'm back with your app-" Gan freezes as he walks through the entrance of your tent, thrown off at first when he sees you halfway through a random hole in your tent. "What the-" you don't give him enough time to react, diving through the hole and bolting to the forrest. The advantage of being a bit smaller is that you were quick on your feet. "Ah fuck!" He yells in frustration, needing to go the long way around the tent.

You were already just a blurr in the distance by the time he got around the tent, but he could still see you. He chuckles to himself and takes off his armor and weapons, leaving them against your tent before running after you. He might not have been fast, but he was more known for his endurance... in more ways than one. He'd catch up to you eventually.

You were running as fast as you could, dodging and weaving between the trees. You were hoping you were losing him, but everytime you looked back, you kept seeing him in the distance. Why was he chasing you? He was always able to keep a pretty good pace with you, but in that moment you kinda hated him for it. Or did you love it? He could catch you so easily. Maybe he would claim you as his once he catches you. Or maybe he'd punish you? You couldn't tell which idea excited you more, but you couldn't focus on that right now!

You nearly trip on a tree root, jumping out of the way so you miss it, but not realizing the hill drop next to you. You yelp and stumble a bit, nearly falling, but you manage to catch yourself on a tree and pull yourself back. You use the second to catch your breath and stabilize yourself. You're about to start running again when you don't hear anyone behind you anymore... or see anyone for that matter. There was no way you lost hik that easily

For such a large man, he had managed to hide himself easily in the dense trees, his dark green skin helping him blend into the scenery as he moved between the foliage. He didn't understand why his heart was racing so much. Or why he felt himself getting excited as he got closer to catching you. He wanted to catch you and claim you. He wanted to make sure no other man would dare look at his mate. He wanted you as his mate. His one and only. He just had no clue how to do that. Maybe chasing you and getting you alone would help...

His footsteps quickened as he had heard you yelp, so he was fairly close to you, but he didn't see the edge of the hill. As your back was turned, he decided that tackling you would be the best way to capture you.

"Found you." He growled ominously before jumping out from around a tree. You screamed out and tried to dodge, but the attempt was futile. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to him as he waited for you guys to hit solid ground. But he quickly realized that he had made a mistake as you both started to tumble down the large hill. He had managed to keep you mostly protected throughout the fall, but had hit a tree and lost his grip on you, sending you tumbling your own way down the hill. You both landed at the bottom with a soft thud

He groaned in pain as he sat up, rubbing his head. He checked his body quickly, and other than a few scratches, he was fine. He looked around for you a bit panicked. He didn't know how far away you could have gotten. Thankfully, he spotted you only a few feet away, but noticed you were laying motionless on the ground. His blood ran cold as he rushed to your side, fearing the worst.

"Oh my god, (Y/n)!" He shouts as he turns you onto your back, only to be met by a swift, solid punch to his jaw from below. He groans in pain and turns away from you. After delivering the punch, you quickly get up and jump on his shoulders. You clamp your legs around his neck in a firm hold, causing him to fall backwards as he grabs at your thighs. It was like you were trying to kill him, but not because of lack of oxygen. If he didn't get out from between your thighs soon, he wouldn't be able to get away.

"Why were you following me?!" You yelled, not letting up on your grip. He could still breathe, but barely. He kept struggling, trying to get away from you before he got an erection. He had never had you do this to him like this before and he was enjoying it way more than he should. However, his struggling was causing his head to rub against your pussy through your clothes. You tighten your grip with your legs to try and get him to stop moving. "S-stop making this difficult and tell me why you followed me!" You yelled at him, letting out a soft sigh under your breath as he finally stopped struggling. You lightened your grip slightly to let him answer.

"I-I... don't... know... I... wanted... to.." He still struggled to speak because of her thighs, but she heard him. She let go of him, leaving him laying on the ground as he struggled to catch his breath. "I... didn't want you... to be alone out here..." He added between breaths, finally able to breathe normally for a few moments. However, he quickly couldn't breathe again as you jumped on his neck, your legs wrapping around his head once again, but from the front this time.

"I can take care of myself!" You yelled in frustration, your legs tight around his head, his face buried against your clothed pussy. He didn't dare move or breathe this time, hyper aware of every muscle in his body. You didn't think about what you did until after it was already done. You felt your core getting hot as you felt his tusks against your inner thighs, your face heating up. This felt like some sort of weird dream. Why did you do that?

He had to think of a way out of this before he passed out. His heart raced as he struggled to breathe once again, trying to get away from the sweet smell you just smothered him with. His erection grew and he was thankful you were facing away from it at least. Your pussy right in front of his face was all he could think about. He wanted to just rip your clothes off and make you ride his face, but it took all his willpower not to.

Instead, he wraps his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place with an iron like grip before swiftly turning, rolling the two of you so he was on his stomach. You had thought about this position too, but you were broken out of your thoughts as he quickly hoisted you up. He jumped up himself, your legs still around his head as he smacked you on a large smooth boulder. He was finally able to use his leverage to get out of your hold, gasping for air as he stood and braced himself on the boulder.

As he stood you finally saw it. His massive hard on was visible through his pants. He was huge. You knew he was big, but you weren't even sure if he was fully hard yet. He got that hard from all of that? You felt yourself getting even hotter and you were unable to close your legs yet. He had his hands firmly planted between your legs, keeping them spread open. He had to have known how you were feeling right now, right? He had to smell it when he was down there...

"What was that for?!" He shouts before groaning, reaching up with one hand to rub his jaw after the beating gave it. He looked down at your spread legs and stepped between them fully. He could see the wet spot between your legs and sighed deeply. He didn't think he'ddo this so quickly after being put in charge of taking care of you...

"Are you trying to kill me? Fucking brat..." He growls as he stares down at you, his arms pinning you under him as he leans over you. The sun shines through the trees and gives you both a beautiful glow. It really did feel like a dream, and both of you would agree. He just stared into your beautiful (e/c) eyes, only looking away to look down at your lips. Your faces were only a few inches away from each other's as you stared back at him. It looked like he was conflicted. Maybe you needed to encourage him a little?

You couldn't help yourself. You slowly reached your hands up and touched his chest gently. He was so warm and sweaty, and after the fall, dirty. You ran your hands up the sides of his neck and gently held his face. You felt him lean into your hands as he closed his eyes and sighed. You used your thumbs to gently caress his large tusks as he melted into your touch even further. You couldn't help but smile and giggle to yourself a little.

"I'd never thought the might Gan would be such a helpless little baby when it comes to being held." You snickered a little, his eyes shooting open before glaring at you. You gave him an evil smile before hooking your fingers on his tusks and tugging them towards you. He let out a groan in response before the look in his eyes turns into something more evil. He suddenly grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head

"You think that's funny? You fucking tease..." He growls at you. You haven't seen him like this before. You kinda like it. Without a word, he takes one of his hands and cups it under your head, lifting your head to meet his in a rough and passionate kiss. Your bodies rubbed together as he held you down and made out with you, not wanting to let you go Your tusks rubbed together as he loosened his grip on your wrists, pulling away slightly. Seizing the opportunity, you wrap your arms around his neck and brought your lips back to his. You'd been waiting too long for a chance like this. Your legs wrap around his waist as you press your body into his, scratching his back as you let out soft breathy moans whenever your lips manage to part for a moment.

He stumbles backwards a bit in surprise, his hands immediately grabbing your ass as he keeps you held close to him. He may not have expected this reaction, but he won't complain. He moans with you as he continues to kiss you, but slowly moves his hands up your body towards your shoulders.

As you start to grind your hips against him, he pushes you back onto the rock, your arms releasing, but your legs still locked firmly in place around his waist. Your back was arched as he pinned your shoulders. Both of you were panting from the kiss, both your lips puffy and almost raw. He has a moment of clarity and wants to make sure this isn't to try and trick him into not telling anyone about this.

"What's going on with you? You've been off since I was assigned to you. You've never given a guard this much trouble when you get caught outside camp. Why me?" He asked, determined for answers. Did you hate him that much that you wanted to run away? He was so confused as to why you were kissing him then.

"Because I want you..." You mumbled, bashful as you turned your head away from him. You let go of your grip around his waist with your

"What?" He asked, a bit thrown off by your answer.

"I want you! I have no interest in anyone else in the clan. I know you may not exactly feel the same way, but I needed to get away from you to even have a chance of finding someone else. I can't think of anyone but you when you're around..." You admit, sheepishly. Your face flushes and you avoid looking him in the eyes. "I just want you as my mate... if you'll have me."

He was staring at you dumbstruck as he tried to replay what he just heard in his head. Did you just confess? His head spun as he tried to find the words to speak, to reciprocate how you feel, but decided that actions would speak louder than words. His hands moved down to your hips and pulled you to the edge of the boulder. You were about to ask what he was doing, but he interrupted you by pulling your shorts up and exposing your ass for him. You didn't have time to react before he delivered a swift smack to your ass, earning a squeal from you.

"You had to take the moment didn't you? Spoilt brat. I wanted to ask you properly after showing you I can protect you. Couldn't even let me try and be a gentleman for you..." He said lowly, making your heart race as you froze and starred up at him. You didn't think you'd actually get this for, so you weren't sure how to react to any of this. All you knew was that you wanted him to keep going.

Another slap sounded on your other asscheek as he pushed your knees back against your chest. He directed your arms to wrap around your knees as he crouched down in front of your exposed pussy. His hot breath against your sensitive clit gave you goosebumps. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you before he finally dove in, giving your pussy long, slow licks from your entrance to your clit. You moan out and squeeze your legs closer to you as you let him do what he wants. He toys with you like that for a while before using his mouth to focus on your clit.

One of his hands migrate to your pussy, one of his large fingers sliding into you and curling against your g-spot gently. You arch your back as you let out another moan, but cut it off by biting your lip. His free hand slaps your ass again as he continues to lap at your clit with his tongue and finger your pussy. His hand stays on your ass and gropes the soft flesh as his tusks rub and scratch against the back of your thighs.

You pussy trembled as you tried your best not to squirm. As much as his hand was nice, you wanted to cum on his dick. You wanted him to fill you up and give you his little orcling. Now that you knew he felt the same, your whole body felt hot. His hands in and on your body felt like fire.

"Fuck..." He stopped suddenly and pulled away, taking off your shorts completely and quickly taking his own clothes off as you slowly let go of your legs and spread them. "You're so fucking sexy. I can't believe you're so willing to be my cum slut already..." He held his cock and rubbed it against your pussy. He was worried about hurting you, but after your pussy juices coated his cock after only ruling against you for a few moments, he decided to just go ahead.

You were eager for him to finally thrust into you. Even just his warm cock rubbing along your pussy lips and clit was making you feral. You'd jump on him soon if he didn't get a move on.

He lines up his cock carefully with your slick hole before easing his cock into you. You both moan loudly as your pussy strains slightly to take him in the best way. Your arousal only increased, making it easier for him to get more of his cock into you by the second. When he's about halfway into your pussy, you're already nearly completely full and he pauses.

"W-why are you stopping?" You whimper, not wanting him to hold back. He gives you a wicked grin before grabbing your hips and lifting you. He flips you over onto your stomach while you're still half on his dick. The sensation made your body quiver in pleasure before you turn your head to look back at him. He leans over your body and braces himself on his elbows over you, one of his forearms positioned under your head for you to rest on.

"I wanna fuck you like the bitch you keep acting like. Maybe then my dirty slut will calm down and be a good girl for me." Gan groans in your ear before thrusting the last of his cock into you without warning. You screamed out a moan out of shock, biting down on his arm as your eyes rolled back for a moment. Your tight pussy quivered around his cock as he shuddered from the sensation of having your warm, wet pussy around him. He could live like that, minus your teeth, but his hips start to move on their own as he moans in your ear.

"F-fuck, you're so tight... you're gonna milk my cock and give me a kid... everyone is gonna know you're all mine soon." He said breathlessly. As much as he was trying to act tough, his heart was melting as he fucked your brain out. His thrusts got faster and rougher as he listened to you moan through your bite on his arm with every thrust.

You tried to thrust your hips back against his with each thrust, but there wasn't much you could do when your whole body was pinned down. You felt your climax building quickly as Gan finds his pace, rubbing perfectly against your g-spot and hitting your cervix in a way that made you feel dizzy. His large, full balls kept slapping your clit with each thrust. Your jaw slacked as you released your bite, moaning even louder.

"There we go. Good girl. You're gonna behave for me, right? You gonna cum for me? I want my slut to cum on my cock and milk me..." He grumts, you only able to weakly nod your head as he just kept fucking your pussy until you exploded. Your pussy squeezed his cock so hard he couldn't move for a moment and you screamed. Your orgasm felt like you got hit by lightning, but he just keeps fucking you. Your pussy shuddered around his cock as you keep cumming, each thrust making you more overstimulated than the last.

"Fuck yes. I'm gonna cum too, princess. Take it all, please." Thankfully, he doesn't last much longer than you. His thrusts get faster but more sloppy as he chases his orgasm. He moans and groans as you whimper and lick the bite mark you left on his arm. The sight makes him groan as he thrusts inside you one last time, burying his cock deep in your pussy as he cums. You finally stsrt to come down from your orgasm with a loud sigh. You feel his warm cum fill you, but whine as you feel some of it start to drip down your legs.

He was still so hard. He rocks his hips gently against yours as you moan. Your poor sensitive pussy kept being bullied and you loved it. He kisses your shoulder gently and sighs.

"I love you, (Y/n)... I'd love to be your mate..." He whispers in your ear as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tenderly.

"I can tell..." You giggled breathlessly. Although you were exhausted, you didn't loose your sense of humor. "I love you too..." You whispered before turning your head and kissing him on the cheek. Due to how hard he was, and how he seemed to already be ready to go again, you two were going to be there for a long time...

[sserpente]

For Old Times' Sake

Synopsis: When your landlord drags you before Lord Gortash to settle your debts, your life gets turned upside down. It is not the fear of imprisonment that paralyses you at Wyrm’s Rock—it is him. Enver Flymm, as you’d once known him, a shy and clever boy and your only childhood friend. Will he recognise you and show mercy, help you out?

A/N: My obsession with Gortash is getting out of hand. I don’t think I care.

Words: 2853 Warnings: angst, homelessness, mentions of death and abuse

The number on your tax letter was bright red—quite possibly scribbled on there with the previous tenant’s blood. Three thousand and five hundred gold pieces. That was more money than you had ever seen in your life.

“I’m a little short.”

The half-orc—your landlord—rolled his eyes. “By how much?”

“Um…about three thousand and four hundred ninety-nine gold pieces.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“I’m not, I…I am trying to find work right now. I was preoccupied with organising a funeral and scraped together the last of my savings to buy my parents a coffin. I will start paying off the debts and all the money I owe if you give me just a little bit more time…”

The half-orc scoffed. “Funny, that’s what your parents always said too. Just a little bit more time. I’m done playing games, kid. In times like this, the Fist can’t let this keep happening. You pay your rent, you pay your taxes, you contribute to the city’s safety—and you face the consequences if you cannot do so.”

It was this new Steel Watch mainly that ate up most of the tax money. An entire Foundry had sprouted from the ground down by the docks seemingly overnight. They were rather scary automatons and they were not known for their mercy.

“It’s Friday,” the half-orc continued. “We are settling this once and for all. Your missing payments are biting a hole into my coin purse.”

Your eyes widened. Each Friday, Lord Gortash—the city’s new hero, protector, and saviour—held public hearings where citizens could voice requests, concerns, or other pleas. You’d never seen the man in person. He looked handsome enough on the posters, you’d read about his good deeds and heard about his generosity. But apart from that, he was a stranger to you. You’d known a young boy once called Enver though—Gortash sharing the same first name could only bring you luck, no?

Perhaps…perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. You could make your case—explain to him that when your parents died from sickness, the remaining debts from all the medication that didn’t help in the end had been passed on to you.

You inherited a small house with broken windows, corroding wood and a serious rat problem in the cellar rendering food rations useless. Not that you had many to spare. You’d always wondered what a full stomach felt like.

“Will you come with me willingly or do I need to get a Fist?”

“This really isn’t necessary, saer. As soon as I’ve found work—”

“I am done making exceptions. We are leaving for Wyrm’s Rock. Now.”

You didn’t want to make a scene, not here. Not with the Steel Watchers within reach. With a sigh, you folded the letter from your landlord and handed it back to him, then followed him through the Lower City to Wyrm’s Rock as if you were walking to the gallows.

The place was packed. You’d expected little else. Lord Gortash was very much in demand. There was a long queue when you arrived, several Fists positioned at every possible entrance along with some patrolling Steel Watchers to ensure no one cut the line.

Five minutes turned into ten minutes, ten minutes into twenty. With every passing second, you felt the nervousness tightening its iron grip around you more. The punishment for evading rent was eviction, for one, and imprisonment for another. But perhaps Lord Gortash would hear you out.

It took another ten minutes before you were called up to the audience chamber. As if he was worried you’d try and make a run for it now, the half-orc grabbed your upper arm, dragging you with him. At the far end of the hall, two Steel Watchers were positioned on either side of a pretty throne in front of which stood a handsome man with short black hair and elegant black armour.

“Lord Gortash…thank you for your time,” your landlord began. He bowed—and so did you. Gortash’s eyes skimmed over the half-orc with mild interest before moving on to you. Dark orbs boring into yours, stirring…recognition within you. His face…you could have sworn you’d met him before.

“How can I be of service, hmm?” he asked with a sly smirk. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest. That scar on his chin…that little boy you knew from your childhood…a boy named Enver…

“E-Enver? Enver Flymm? Is…is that you?”

Your landlord’s head whipped in your direction, the disrespect apparent, even more so when Gortash began to frown. Who were you to call the archduke by his first name? But this…this was different. You knew him. He was…or used to be…your friend.

“It’s me!” You told him your name, excitement washing over you like a wave. “R-remember me? We used to play together as kids. You…you just disappeared one day. I never found out what happened to you and your parents wouldn’t talk to me…”

Your landlord cleared his throat before Gortash could answer—the archduke’s face, however, was painted with recognition. He did remember you.

“Whatever, Lord Gortash, this…tenant of mine has been behind with paying rent for months. I am currently missing nearly four thousand gold pieces which she claims she’ll be able to ‘pay back soon as soon as she finds work’.”

Enver knew your family was poor, they always had been. He himself didn’t have a lot growing up. While other kids would brag about the new toys that they got for their birthday, Enver got a beating out of asking for some simple tools for his special day. He’d always been a tinkerer.

“I see. I am going to deal with this. Would you excuse us for a moment?” Gortash finally spoke.

Taken aback, your landlord nodded. Dismissed. You breathed out audibly. Good, this was good. You’d get to tell him your side of the story and he’d help you, he had authority now, he had the power to…

“You have chosen a criminal career then?”

Your heart dropped. “C-criminal? I’m not a criminal.”

“You refuse to pay rent. And tax evasion too?”

“I don’t refuse. I simply…I can’t, I have no money left. You…you remember my parents, right? They passed two ten days ago. We spent all we had on medication and healers and that was after they started struggling with their health. They couldn’t work as much anymore and so we fell behind.”

“Hmm.”

He tilted his head and for just a brief second, you saw the young boy flash before your eyes again. You couldn’t help but smile despite your sad circumstances. Gods, you were a childhood friend of the archduke… Now that your parents were gone…perhaps you wouldn’t be all alone after all.

“I…I thought about you a lot. You were my only friend back then. I always assumed your parents sent you off to some private school outside the city to give you better opportunities or…or that an incurable sickness claimed you. Just earlier today I thought I once knew a little boy who would have loved these Steel Watchers. And now it turns out it was you all along. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I put my talent to good use.”

“You did. I remember when we were little kids we would roam the streets and search the city for old metal parts. You’d tinker away and build your own toys with them. This one time you made me a dancing ballerina, do you remember? You…you found this old music box a merchant had abandoned. The music was all distorted at first but…you made it work again. That was the best toy I ever had.” You paused. All of a sudden…you were mourning him. Mourning your childhood friend you thought you had lost for good.

“What happened to you? Where did you go?”

Gortash’s brown eyes locked with yours. But then, his expression hardened. “That matters not. Your landlord expects a solution for his dilemma.”

Your face fell. “You…you could help.”

“I could,” he mused. “But I am the archduke of Baldur’s Gate now, my dear. If I start waiving laws in favour of an old acquaintanceship, people are going to start questioning my reliability.”

“But—“

“Your landlord is in the right. If you cannot afford rent, he has the right to evict you. I am going to spare you the dungeons—for old times’ sake.”

“Enver…”

“That is Lord Gortash to you. We are not children anymore.”

Your lips parted. “Is…is that it?”

“Yes. You are dismissed.”

You didn’t even notice your tears until they wet your cheeks. You turned around without a word of goodbye, without a formal bow. Your landlord was seemingly pleased as you rushed out. You didn’t wait for Enver to tell him the good news.

As of right now, you were homeless. And even though you hadn’t seen your only friend in years, against all reason, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

You just didn’t understand. Enver used to be such a sweet boy. Innocent, full of visions and dreams, shy, quiet. Everyone who knew him including his own parents labelled him as ‘odd’ but you knew better.

Now, he was the reason you’re homeless. Wait, no. That wasn’t right. Your landlord was the reason you were homeless. Enver had simply honoured the very rules set in place before he became the archduke. Perhaps he was right and he couldn’t make an exception—it would be unfair on others. He could have sent you to prison but he didn’t. That had to be enough.

As you made your way through the Lower City past merchants, civilians, and Steel Watchers a few weeks later, wondering if you’d be able to have a meal today, the sudden tumult right in front of Basilisk Gate had you pause. You frowned, hurrying toward the crowd of people that had formed before the gallows. Three men with nooses around their necks stood on the wooden platform, in front of them, facing the citizens, stood Enver.

What in the hells was happening?

“…so let this be a fair warning. These are the consequences of disobedience. I am not going to tolerate disrespect. I have led this city to glory—and I ask for recognition and your trust in return.”

Your frown deepened when Enver gave a court nod to the hangman. The very moment the trap doors gave way under the prisoner’s feet was the moment you looked away—but not before the archduke’s eyes met yours.

“I am telling you,” you heard a citizen whisper to another, “there’s something foul about this man. He acts like a bloody Banite.”

A Banite. You swallowed. That was a serious accusation. Surely, a sweet boy like Enver wouldn’t turn to Bane worship.

“My words exactly,” the other citizen responded, “I heard he is friends with the chief editor of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette and only what he approves of gets printed.”

A scoff. “Talk about propaganda.”

You’d heard enough. With your heart in your mouth, you stepped away, attempting to disappear in the crowd and perhaps ask for a gold piece or two. You flinched when a Fist touched your shoulder and flipped you around to face her.

“Lord Gortash has requested your presence. You will follow me.”

“W-why? What does he want?”

She didn’t respond. And if you refused to follow her? You didn’t want to find out.

You hadn’t expected to return to Wyrm’s Rock any time soon, nor that you’d be led up the stairs to Lord Gortash’s private quarters. The place was imposing. And of course, when you spotted him behind his desk, he was accompanied by two Steel Watchers.

“Ah, hello, my dear. Have you been faring well?” he mused. You could have been mistaken—but it was almost like you sensed scornfulness swinging in his voice.

“I am homeless. How do you think I’m faring?” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

“Oh, don’t give me that reproachful tone. We are all bound by laws and order, my dear.”

You blinked. “What do you want from me?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“You do?” Hesitation mixed with suspicion. After seeing him hang people in public today…you weren’t sure a proposition would do you any good.

“It’s quite simple, really. Serve me and I shall give you a roof over your head.”

“Serve you?”

“I’ve had my Watchers keep an eye on you. It is quite noble of you not to resort to stealing. Surely, you understand why the citizens of Baldur’s Gate are becoming more and more hesitant to spare a few coins, though.”

You’d read in the Gazette only yesterday that the tax rates were going to be increased yet again starting next month. Both the Fist and the newspaper itself had become very vocal about their dismay when it came to the poor and those in need. It was concerning—terrifying, even.

“Being archduke comes with a lot of responsibilities. My hands are full with political duties, I need people around me to run errands for me and assist me. What do you say? For old times’ sake?” he continued.

“You want me to work for you?” Only weeks ago, you would have jumped at the opportunity. You and your childhood friend reunited at last. Him being the archduke, you being his assistant, his right hand. Now, however, the request left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. You did not agree with his cold-hearted choices to hang usurpers. There was always a more peaceful solution. Imprisonment, for one.

“Do you know what people are whispering, Env-…Lord Gortash? They have suspicions you could be a Banite. You hung people for disobedience! How is that a fair judgement? How can I work for you if this is how you—”

“One of them plotted an assassination against me. You have no right to question my rule, my dear. Lest you’ll end up like them.”

Your lips parted. He didn’t even deny it. He…he didn’t deny he was worshipping Bane… Damn all appropriation. “Enver, please, what happened to you? You used to be such a sweet boy, you comforted me when the other kids picked on me, you—”

“My parents, my dear, sold me to a Warlock. I disappeared because I was shipped off the hells to serve a devil called Raphael in his House of Hope. I faced years of degradation and abuse until I finally managed to escape. I had nothing, I was nothing. The Black Lord picked up the pieces that were left of me and made me what I am today. And I am giving you a chance now. You have potential. Serve me and we can rise together.”

You blinked, processing his words. Sold? To a devil? No wonder his parents had refused to speak about him after his sudden disappearance. The torment he must have experienced…you could almost understand why a tyrannical god like Bane would infiltrate his dreams and promise him power and glory.

“I…I don’t know about this, Enver. This…this is tyranny.”

“In times like this, tyranny is what people need. They don’t listen—and they need a strong leader to help them make the choices that are best for the city. As of right now, free will is their greatest enemy.”

“Is that truly what you think?”

Enver’s expression darkened. He took a menacing step forward. All of a sudden, you felt so much smaller than before.

“I will not have you belittle my faith.” He paused. “I expect an answer. Now.”

You were torn—way too much so. This answer should be a decided No. Working for a Banite, for a worshipper of one of the Dead Three…it was wrong. It should be wrong. And yet…you were hesitant. Not only did Enver promise to end your homelessness but also an alliance. You were clueless as to how he assumed you would be of any use to him but you’d be damned if you didn’t admit that ever since he’d stepped into your life again…it felt like a part of yourself had returned to you. Against all reason, that made you happy. Relieved, even. You weren’t entirely alone—and you certainly wouldn’t be if you accepted his proposal.

You took a deep breath. “F-fine. I…I accept. I…I don’t want to lose you again.”

If he’d expected you to agree, he didn’t expect this. For just a split second, his composure faltered, surprise and something ever so soft washing over his face. It was gone again as fast as it had appeared.

“Splendid. A wise decision, my dear. I shall have one of the empty servants’ rooms prepared for you. Unless of course, you’d rather stay with me?” he mocked.

“You know, I would actually like that,” you said with a weak smile. Because you’d missed him. Banite or not, you were grateful he’d found his way into your life again. Not all was lost—perhaps you’d be able to talk to him. Help him be a better person just like he’d helped you be one when you were young. You’d find a way. For old times’ sake.

A/N: I already have an idea for a Part II.

[tanadrin]

Hi! Apologies for the potential annoyance, but I've heard some people say that Tolkien's work has some racist connotations, specifically in relation to the Orcs and the Elfs. Is this true? How so?

Tolkien and racial politics is interesting, but I think a lot of people's analysis of Tolkien and race is bad. You can compare him to fantasists like Robert E. Howard and H. Rider Haggard and other writers who do actively care about race as it was politically and scientifically conceptualized in the 20th century, and their racism is of a totally different order, and far more explicit, than anything found in Tolkien. And people misread Tolkien's style, because language around race has shifted rapidly in the last 50-75 years, and they take as racialized words like "swarthy" which in context are used to mean things like "a white person with dark hair and a tan" and not "a black person."

Tolkien's not progressive on race, because Tolkien was not politically progressive. The impression I got from his letters is that he was a pretty generic well-educated conservative--disdaining both fascism and communism, not super worked up about homosexuality despite his Catholicism--but also not super interested in the day-to-day of politics either. He doesn't care about representation in his stories, and he's not worried about what people might read into his work, so I think some unconscious biases are definitely in evidence (e.g., in his depiction of the Haradrim). But also a lot of his literary models are from centuries before modern racial categories were constructed. He's definitely not importing nearly as much of the scientific racism and eugenics and other 20th century baggage as many of his contemporaries are in their fiction.

"Tolkien is racist" is certainly not true in the same way as "HP Lovecraft is racist" is. He's also not unproblematic. But a lot of great books are problematic! And I think Tolkien has a lot of good things to say that interact in interesting ways with the parts of his work that are problematic, and give the reader a lot to chew on.

[vera-simik]

Hell yeah!

Iceland, Earth

Submitted by Anonymous

[ameliathornromance]

Are you the Final Girl?

Slasher!Orc X Reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist

The first month of University was always chaotic and stressful. The first time you had returned back to your accommodation from Summer Holidays, were the most hectic and confusing time of the year – ignoring essays and exams of course – and did nothing to help you settle in. However, for your third and final year of study, you had arrived at your accommodation fully prepared and organised.

Your friends were in shock that you were so relaxed upon moving in, as they had not been as prepared as you had. That and almost all of them took radically different courses from one another, which meant that trying to find times where you could all meet up was difficult to do.

Apart from that, the year went off without a hitch and September passed quickly and without incident… almost.

Finding the time to be with your friends and moving back into your accommodation weren’t the main reasons for your stress. At the start of summer, you had been getting these degrading messages from a blank Instagram account. The users name was just a jumble of letters the profile picture remained blank as per standard issue of every new user that signs up to social media, so there was no way to find out who the person was. You had blocked the account at first, but you soon found another account had been made and continued to send you the same awful messages.

After blocking more and more accounts, seemingly created by the same person, you just resolved to ignore them. No matter what you did, they just seemed to keep coming back with full force.

And now, the messages were coming in faster and stronger since the start of the new year.

As you sat in the park, biting your nails as you examined the messages, wondering what you should do, a well manicured hand snatched your phone from your hand. “What’s this?”

“Jennifer!” You yelped as your friend slumped onto the park bench next to you and began to scroll through your DMs with this person. “Give me my phone!”

But she didn’t, instead, she shuffled further up the bench as you reached for the mobile device. Her heavily makeuped eyes skimmed the messages, her acrylic nails clacking as she scrolled.

“(Y/N), what is this?” Her eyebrows furrowed together as she pointed at you accusingly with the phone. “Who is this person?”

You scoffed, “I wish I knew. They just started berating me at the start of last summer.”

“And you blocked them?”

“Do I look stupid? Of course I did!” You snatched your phone back and turned it off, stuffing it back into your jacket pocket.

“What’s up slags?” Joining Jennifer on the other side of the bench and sitting on the floor, sat Jack and Sydney, your two other friends.

“(Y/N)s getting bullied.” Jennifer said to Sydney.

“What?” Jack whipped his head around to look at you from the floor, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“I’m not getting bullied.” You sighed, annoyed. “You make it sound so childish when you put it like that.”

Sydney dropped her gym bag on the floor beside her as Jennifer added, “well what else do I call it? Someone pushing you around? Shaking you down?”

“You need to report them to the university then,” Jack said, like it was that simple. Luckily, Sydney explained before you could, “there wouldn’t be any point, if you’re getting picked on, you need to know who’s doing the bullying to stop it. The university won’t do anything otherwise.”

You sighed, sinking back into the bench. “It’s fine. They’ll get bored eventually.” Although that’s what you said, you had little hope for it. What was the likelihood that the messages were going to stop after six whole weeks of sending you degrading messages every day? Blocking clearly wasn’t enough of a deterrent to stop them, so what else would?

“What a pathetic little freak.” Jennifer huffed, crossing her arms. “Who sends messages to someone everyday telling them stuff like that?”

An uncomfortable silence washed over the group. Jack broke it, “hey. This is the first time we’ve all been able to meet up since we got here, right?”

Sydney perked up, “you’re right! Now’s the perfect time to make Halloween plans!”

“Halloween is weeks away.” You said, flatly. It was the final few days of September, but your point still stood, “isn’t it too early to be doing something like that?”

“Oh you’re such a party pooper.” Jennifer gave you a dismissive wave, “we should plan something for the 31st. C’mon, everyone, let’s have a look for events!”

Simultaneously, everyone took their phones out from their pockets and began to search for local events.

“There’s a bar opening all night for the 31st.” Jack suggested, looking up at the other members of your group. “Thoughts?”

“Hmm, let’s make a note of it.” Jennifer said, thoughtfully. “Oh, oh!” She nearly jumped out of her seat. “What about this? An open air film night, right here, in the park.”

“What film are they showing?” You asked, curiously.

“It’s down to a poll,” Jennifer explained, “It’s between Scream and Happy Death Day.”

“Won’t it be too cold?” Sydney raised a thin eyebrow.

“Well, they say to bring a blanket.” Jennifer pursed her glossy lips and frowned. “But it sounds like so much fun.”

“What’s so fun about being cold out in the middle of the night? Wouldn’t you be much rather in a bar and warmed up with alcohol?” Jack gave a chuckle, “personally, I’d take the-”

“Oh no.” Jennifer had turned her attention away from her phone and to the park entrance. “It’s him.”

You looked over your shoulder, following Jennifer’s gaze.

In walked the Rugby team from your university… and amongst them was Malike. He was a tall, broad shouldered Orc with deep, mossy green skin and pitch black hair. It had been pulled back into a high ponytail and slicked back with some kind of product. His tusk on the left side of his face had been chipped, leaving it’s base jagged.

“Jen, you’ve been weird about him since he asked me out.” You said, looking away from him. “Malike took it really well, you don’t have to be so…”

“So what?” Jennifer asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “I’m allowed to be worried about who’s asking you out. Especially him. Orcs have awful tempers, who knows what would have happened when you rejected him!” Her voice rang out through the park.

“Jennifer keep your voice down!” Sydney hissed.

But it was too late. Malike had already looked around at your group. He saw you, smiled and waved.

You waved back at him, returning his smile.

“Jennifer’s right.” Jack said, looking at the Orc as if his wave was some kind of offensive gesture. “They’re really violent creatures. And he ditched us after you refused to go out with him.”

It’s not that you disliked Malike by any means. He just wasn’t your type.

Although it was true that he went to go and hang out with his classmates rather than his original friendship group that was you and your friends, you felt like you could hardly blame him.

First, you said no to going out with him and that’s when he began to distance himself from the group. You felt bad at first, but understood why. Soon, Jennifer and the others started asking questions.

You wanted to keep what had happened between you and Malike a secret; the last thing you wanted was to make the friendship between him, you and the others awkward. But it became difficult when all Jennifer could do was complain about his distancing from the whole group and ignoring all of them when they were together. She found it strange that he was fine talking to everyone individually, but not together.

Finally, you got tired of her complaints and told her what happened… and, she went nuts. She told you that you could have gotten yourself killed by rejecting him, then proceeded to have a go at Malike for ‘putting you in a difficult situation.’

Jack told you that Malike’s behaviour was ‘psychopathically guilt-trippy’ and Sydney would just snub him during PE classes they shared.

He stopped talking to any of you after that. He was still friendly with you, even though you didn’t talk anymore. You were the only one who tried to apologise for their behaviour. You truly had no idea that they would react the way that they did, but Malike just gave a sad smile. “No, it’s okay, I get it.”

Jack’s comment brought you back to reality, made you snort. “Jack, you literally asked me out and then ditched me at a bar.”

Jack instantly flared up. “I already told you I was sorry! It’s not my fault that I ate those super spicy-”

“Look, the point is,” Jennifer huffed, “is that you shouldn’t even be nice to him. Who knows what he could have done to you.”

“Where are you getting this from?” You asked her incredulously. “It’s not like he was ever violent when he was friends with us and you only started acting like this after I told you what happened.”

“He also plays rugby.” She added, “y’know rugby players screws get a bit more loose when they hit each other on the heads, right?”

You stood up. “What the hell is wrong with you!? He didn’t do anything wrong!” You gave Jennifer a disgusted expression. “Why are you getting so caught up in what could have happened instead of what did?”

“Because I care about you!” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “You’re being so dramatic, (Y/N), sit down.”

You looked around at your other friends, hoping that they would say something to shut Jennifer down. You knew Jack would be no help, he was on the same page as Jennifer, so you looked to Sydney.

But she was adamantly staring at her phone screen, scrolling through some text messages. It was like she’d never even been listening in on the conversation.

“I can’t believe any of you.” You knew that they were protective of you, but didn’t know that they would be so harsh towards one Orc.

“You know what?” You said. “Forget it.” And with that, you stormed out of the park and away from the group.

“(Y/N)-”

“Leave it Jen.” Sydney told Jennifer.

How did you wind up with such a bunch of judgemental loons like them?

I have a 7 day free trial on my Patreon! Come and see what I've been writing :)

[bitchfaramir]

Tolkien: "I think you misunderstand Faramir."

I think you misunderstand Faramir. He was daunted by his father: not only in the ordinary way of a family with a stern proud father of great force of character, but as a Númenórean before the chief of the one surviving Númenórean state. He was motherless and sisterless (Eowyn was also motherless), and had a 'bossy' brother. He had been accustomed to giving way and not giving his own opinions air, while retaining a power of command among men, such as a man may obtain who is evidently personally courageous and decisive, but also modest, fair-minded and scrupulously just, and very merciful.

I think he understood Eowyn very well. Also to be Prince of Ithilien, the greatest noble after Dol Amroth in the revived Númenórean state of Gondor, soon to be of imperial power and prestige, was not a 'market-garden job' as you term it. Until much had been done by the restored King, the P. of Ithilien would be the resident march-warden of Gondor, in its main eastward outpost - and also would have many duties in rehabilitating the lost the dreadful vale of Minas Ithil (Morgul).

I did not, naturally, go into territory, and clearing it of outlaws and orc-remnants, not to speak of details about the way in which Aragorn, as King of Gondor, would govern the realm. But it was made clear that there was much fighting, and in the earlier years of A.'s reign expeditions against enemies in the East. The chief commanders, under the King, would be Faramir and Imrahil; and one of these would normally remain a military commander at home in the King's absence.

A Númenórean King was monarch, with the power of unquestioned decision in debate; but he governed the realm with the frame of ancient law, of which he was administrator (and interpreter) but not the maker. In all debatable matters of importance domestic, or external, however, even Denethor had a Council, and a least listened to what the Lords of the Fiefs and the Captains of the Forces had to say. Aragorn re-established the Great Council of Gondor, and in that Faramir, who remained by inheritance the Steward (or representative of the King during his absence abroad, or sickness, or between his death and the accession of his heir) would [be] the chief counsellor.

from The Letters of JRR Tolkien, edited by Humphrey Carpenter, letter no. 244, a draft to a critical reader

[batneko]

for the last couple days I've been thinking about a Dungeon Meshi AU with the girl version of Laios from the magic mirror bonus page. Like, let's say she got married at 16, and ten years and two kids later she's escorting her youngest to magic school and planning to visit with Falin for a couple days before heading home. She finds out Falin and Marcille (I can't decide if everybody should be gender-swapped or only Laios. If Falin is The Boy he'd probably be expected to become village chief despite having creepy ghost magic, but maybe Laios's husband turned out to be a good leader so there's an unspoken "if Falin doesn't come back would that really be so bad?" among the villagers. But if Falin and Marcille are still girls that could lead to some interesting Deconstructing Gender Norms stuff. I just don't know!) have been planning to go to The Island and study a real dungeon, and instantly flips from quiet and demure (masking HARD) to excited and full of energy, and Marcille asks why Laios doesn't just come along. It'll only be a few months, both kids are in boarding schools, won't her husband understand?

The answer to that is no, but Laios has been dreading going back home for exactly the reason that it'll just be her and her husband now, no more kids as a buffer. She'll have nothing to do but take care of the house and be a Good Wife. Her husband isn't a bad person, but he's never understood her and never bothered to try, he just gets frustrated that she can't remember their guests' names, that she only wants to talk about "weird" things, that she cares more about her letters from Falin than she does taking care of her appearance.

Laios lets just enough of this slip that Marcille misunderstands and thinks her husband is a brute, and Falin has always known that being a housewife didn't suit Laios at all, so neither of them argue when Laios decides to abandon her marriage with only a brief letter back home.

On the trip Laios starts to learn magic, but she turns out to take to combat even better. Her encyclopedic (literally, it all comes from encyclopedias) knowledge of monster anatomy means she'll have the best chance out of the three of them at physically fighting things off if they can't find a trustworthy fighter to hire. But overall she's responsible for organizing their supplies and planning the expeditions. Having experience running a household comes in handy!

Of course, the three of them are pretty naive, and they run through Marcille's savings faster than expected, but they're all so interested in the dungeon that they're willing to stick out the tough times. Laios is so happy to finally be able to Be Herself around people that she starts talking about cooking and eating monsters without realizing that's a step too far for most folks. Falin is, of course, completely supportive, but Marcille and Namari shut it down most of the time. (I'm not sure where Shuro is or if he should be gender-swapped as well. Chilchuck wouldn't join the party until they've become successful enough to pay his rates. If he's gender-swapped this is her way of dealing with an empty nest.) However one day Senshi happens to overhear Laois talking about it while they pass each other and they become fast friends. Marcille isn't sure if s/he wants Laios's obsession with monsters-as-food to continue, but can't resist encouraging this because forbidden love affairs are peak romance. But no they're genuinely just friends and the thought never crosses either of their minds.

Marcille has no idea Laios has actually already had a couple of extramaritals with orc men.

(that's all I got so far!)

[centrally-unplanned]

Time for a pet peeve take response - let me capture our target below:

[Unpopular Fantasy Opinion Take:] The fantasy genre by-and-large took the wrong takeaway from Tolkien, and has been generally spiraling since as a result. They took his surface-level aesthetics and fantastical elements, and left his engagement with real, historical texts, his philology & his moral seriosity. In a different timeline, subsequent authors would have adopted Tolkien's erudite love of language and mythology and applied it to other cultures & mythologies - not just superficially, but by engaging with the great Chinese novels or the Shahnameh like he did with Beowulf. Even when you *do* see more recent novels "inspired by" other cultures, they are very blatantly just taking the (degraded distillate of the) Western, Tolkien-esque tradition and coating it in a thin veneer of Chinese or Mesoamerican lore.

This is not the first time I have seen this specific take, and it is part of a "fallen literature" genre that is always confusing supply & demand, with a hefty bout of selection bias for good measure.

To get the obvious out of the way, the "lessons" people took from Tolkien are entirely what audiences want to read, and were never going to be any other way. Most people don't wanna read hard, heavy books! Even if they want that sometimes, for every one Gravity's Rainbow they are gonna read a dozen Gone Girl's as a palette-cleansing snack, which means by-the-numbers the latter will dominate. Fantasy did not invent the genre of adventure stories and swashbuckling heroes and hot maidens to woo and mystical mumbo-jumbo; people stapling tried-and-true genre tropes onto elves and orcs once they took off was a given. The "shallow" part was the only part that could have changed; a world where the median fantasy novel is dealing with theological issues could never have been.

And to top this all off, no disrespect to Tolkien at all, but like...he isn't that deep? The "moral seriousness" of the Lord of the Rings is very simple - characters are often cartoonishly evil or blatantly good, the conflicts they face are often black and white, and in particular the moral dilemmas faced by characters boil down to tests of courage more than half the time. What Tolkien does have is his own unique interests? Like in Middle Earth the "act of creation", from art to life, is itself a moral undertaking with metaphysical implications. This is super cool - but it is also again very simple, it is barely even discussed in the novels and his ideas can be summarized in a paragraph. This is all good btw! The novels would not benefit from more complicated morality. But modern books are just as complex, and often more so.

Actually just a little aside here - a lot of people do this thing with Tolkien where they mention his letters and drafts like that is canonical story text? Yeah he wrote like an essay about the theological implications of the various orc origin stories, but he didn't publish that, it is nowhere in the Lord of the Rings and is barely in the Silmarillion. Other authors have notes like those; you just don't read them.

And the "other cultures" stuff is particularly egregious - I'm sorry, are we just not reading many modern stories? You think Spinning Silver isn't pulling great threads from Slavic folklore? You think the Chinese Gays in Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed aren't dropping refs to Daoism and the four classics in between their will-they-won't-they necromancy shenanigans? In response this author would, of course, pivot from their bailey of "no one references other traditions" to the motte of "and if they do it is shallow" with no definition of what qualifies as such, nor again any admittance that audiences care way more about getting the gays than the deep cut cultural refs. The fact that the median person in the west prefers their Dungeons & Dragons campaigns in a default Tolkien-esque setting because the point is to have a comfortable backdrop for ease of play of a combat dice game will just not factor into their analysis.

The elephant in the room for all of this is that foundational texts differ, structurally, from modern texts, because they were made in different environments. The Lord of the Rings probably wouldn't sell well today! The prose is wooden, the characters are flat, it throws random lore it never explains at you, Tom Bombadil is just there as a walking momentum-destroying plot hole, etc. People read it because it was a first in a world that didn't have books committing to this level of world-building & detail in a fantasy environment. And as a new genre, things like his crazy level of language building are appealing, it's all so new and different, something cool to dig into.

But imagine picking up your 185th elves-and-orcs sword & sorcery book in 1998 and reading "ah yes Quenya is just one of two alphabets for the Elven tongue and it is inspired by Finnish-Germanic and I write entire poems in it even though I never finished a cohesive dictionary or grammar system but I do have 15 pages of pronunciation notes"?? You would throw at it at a fucking wall, absolutely insufferable. It was cool the first time, and that is why you learn Elvish, just like you learn Klingon. That was never gonna keep as a zeitgeist - instead just popping up here or there as this or that series takes off.

You have to accept that audiences are in the driver's seat on this one - they have infinite stories to choose from, they are absolutely not being dragged along by willful writers. Which means genres will evolve and change over time - and that is fine.

[vera-simik]

[letter-orcs-art]

Art v Artist 2023

[queers-gambit]

The Rings of Power

requesting rules and masterlist

requests are OPEN where to watch: Amazon Prime / Amazon Video

Shadows of the Past

the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

word count: 5.1k+

🖤 reader insert 💔 small angst 🐑 filler ❤️‍🩹 literal hurt and comfort 💍 established relationship 🛑 abrupt ending 🍭 insinuated friends to lovers 🐝 oneshot 🙊 general language and content warning 🥊 depiction of canon-typical physical violence and / or aggression 🩸 depiction of injury and blood 🔏 not edited

read here

Tower Scrolls

during the Siege of Eregion, Elrond barters for his fiancé's life, and her life's work.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

word count: 4.1k+

🖤 reader insert 🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🐑 pure filler, no worth 💍 established relationship ⚠️ spoilers 🐝 oneshot / stand alone 🙊 general language and content warning ☠️ canon-complicit character death 🥊 depiction of physical violence and / or aggression and / or abuse and / or torture 🩸 depiction of injury and blood 😵‍💫 wonky brain went wonky 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

Match Made in Grey Haven

you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

word count: 2.9k+

⏳ kinda AU timeline: takes place before TROP 🧸 fluff 🎭 small drama 🥰 romance ❤️‍🩹 small hurt and comfort 🍭 friends to lovers 🐍 small family angst: dead parents 🥦 healthy family relationships 😵‍💫 wonky brain went a little wonky 🧠 depiction of mental health: anxiety and maybe being shy? 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

part two: The Risk

after your wedding, you and Elrond embark on your honeymoon touring Middle-earth. your company is attacked on the road by Orcs. help comes from an old friend.

word count: 7.1k+

⏳ AU timeline 🧸 little fluff 🥰 romance 🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💍 established relationship 🍭 friends to lovers 🙊 general language and content warning 🥦 kinda healthy family views 🥊 depiction of physical violence 🥂 alcohol consumption 🩸 depiction of blood and injury 👰‍♀️ wife reader 😵‍💫 wonky brain went VERY wonky 🔏 not edited 🛑 kinda abrupt ending ?

read here

Commander

being on opposite sides of the Rings eventually sends your husband back into your arms, and between your legs. haha, nice.

word count: 4.6k+

🖤 slightly reader insert 🎭 drama 💔 angst 🥰 romance ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💦 smut 💣 small relationship angst 💍 established relationship ⚠️ slight spoilers 🔏 not edited

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Bait and Switch

Adar knows you by surname and reputation, but makes a fatal mistake: underestimating the mutual desire to reunite with your husband.

word count: 7.7k+

🖤 reader insert 🎭 drama drama drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💣 relationship angst (reader's a POW) 💍 established relationship ⚠️ spoilers 🐝 oneshot / stand alone 🙊 general language and content warning 🥦 healthy family dynamic 🥊 depiction of physical violence and / or aggression 🩸 depiction of blood and injury and slight gore (Reader bites off Orc finger) 💛 requires maturity and imagination 🩺 depiction of medical phenomenon (cauterization) 👰‍♀️ wife!reader 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

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[vera-simik]

At least once a year since... 2009? 😄

Praděd, jesenik mountains, czech republic

[haladriel]

On Sauron and the Subjective Experience of Love

One of the biggest topics I’ve seen in recent Rings of Power discourse is whether Sauron is capable of love. And it’s one hell of a thing to grapple. But I’ll give it a go.

Some have used Tolkien’s letters to argue that because Sauron is not ‘fully evil’ by Tolkien’s own definition, this indicates he is therefore capable of love. I argue it’s more complex than that, because Sauron is more complex than that. In two of Tolkien’s most relevant passages, ‘love’ is not mentioned, but a lot of other things are:

Some reviewers have called the whole thing [The Lord of the Rings] simple-minded, just a plain fight between Good and Evil, with all the good just good, and the bad just bad. Pardonable, perhaps (though at least Boromir has been overlooked) in people in a hurry, and with only a fragment to read, and, of course, without the earlier written but unpublished Elvish histories ... But in any case this is a tale about a war, and if war is allowed (at least as a topic and a setting) it is not much good complaining that all the people on one side are against those on the other. Not that I have made even this issue quite so simple: there are Saruman, and Denethor, and Boromir; and there are treacheries and strife even among the Orcs. — Letter 154

Similarly, good actions by those on the wrong side will not justify their cause. There may be deeds on the wrong side of heroic courage, or some of a higher moral level: deeds of mercy and forbearance. A judge may accord them honour and rejoice to see how some men can rise above the hate and anger of a conflict; even as he may deplore the evil deeds on the right side and be grieved to see how hatred once provoked can drag them down. But this will not alter his judgement as to which side was in the right, nor his assignment of the primary blame for all the evil that followed to the other side. In my story I do not deal in Absolute Evil. I do not think there is such a thing, since that is Zero. I do not think that at any rate any 'rational being' is wholly evil. Satan fell. In my myth Morgoth fell before Creation of the physical world. In my story Sauron represents as near an approach to the wholly evil will as is possible. He had gone the way of all tyrants: beginning well, at least on the level that while desiring to order all things according to his own wisdom he still at first considered the (economic) well-being of other inhabitants of the Earth. But he went further than human tyrants in pride and the lust for domination, being in origin an immortal (angelic) spirit. — Letter 183

What Tolkien gives in these letters is his perspective on is ‘good’ and ‘evil’, ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, and being on one (he argues, indisputably ‘good’) side or the other (indisputably ‘bad’). I would say that the internal experience of love has nothing to do with any of these things.

To argue the point of whether Sauron can love using these letters alone, a false equivalence has to be drawn between an ability to ‘love’ and being ‘morally good’; and, it follows, an inability to love with being ‘morally evil’. To indirectly quote the letters, ‘good’ in Tolkien isn’t defined by love between one another, but rather by how people share a set of ‘good’ values. One can do ‘good’ without loving the subject of that good deed. I could be ambivalent to the person living down the road, and might not ever talk to them, but still give them my coat when they are in need, because it’s the right thing to do. 

The opposite is also true; one can do ‘evil’, hold and act upon ‘evil’ values, and still feel love, as defined by one’s own experiences. Because love as an emotion (not a dictionary entry) is not one defined feeling or concept, but is subjective; informed by past events, and unique to the person. Taking societal judgement out of the equation, an individual will act in ‘evil’ ways while loving the person involved, or indeed another person elsewhere. That feeling, and even any associated actions, is ‘love’, for the individual; only when cross-examined by society and its values is it challengeable according to the widely understood definitions of what it means ‘to love’, and any double standards the person might be exhibiting.

So, when considering whether Sauron can or cannot love, it depends on your frame of reference.

Using Tolkien’s societal lens, which is fairly rigid in defining ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ based on how society judges someone's whole, once Sauron has ‘fallen’, by the moral standards of the society around him (which as it happens is a mirror for Tolkien’s), no, he does not appear to be able to ‘love’, not in the way many viewers and readers will understand the word. Not in the way that (for example) Melian, another Maia, loves Elwë— wholly, purely, and selflessly. But with a psychological lens, which allows a deeper look at him as a character: Sauron may believe he can love, and that love is a fitting word for what he experiences concerning Galadriel — just as he wants to ‘order all things according to his own wisdom’, he will interpret his feelings according to the terrain of his own experiences. Which are warped and scarred and wounded. His frame of reference is skewed; as much is shown in the confessions he makes to Celebrimbor, and the contradictory ways he treats him. But he is so far gone he is no longer aware of this difference. Because in another society (Morgoth’s), his definition of ‘love’, what he has been taught is love, might be the norm.

Putting oneself in Sauron’s shoes, as he invites Celebrimbor, is to imagine being a lesser god tortured at the hands of Morgoth. Potentially deceived, potentially manipulated; potentially groomed by someone more powerful than he; potentially abandoned by his creators, his parent figures. He is a character full of conflicts and self-delusions that (suggested through a combination of dialogue and action) originate in trauma. It follows that his is not a wholesome or simple love that one might be tempted to associate with ‘good’, because he has not been loved wholly, or simply.

Meanwhile, Galadriel, herself having been through the psychoemotional wars, arguably has found herself connecting with a Janus; a god with two (or indeed more) faces, who has no true sense of self (‘I have many names’); and is coming to terms with how much of that was her attraction (of any kind) to noble and humbled Halbrand, and how much was to passionate, clever, jaded Sauron; if the two can be separated at all. And with whether she herself has a coltishly reckless saviour complex, or, conversely, needs Halbrand to redeem her, or both.

All of this, for both Sauron and Galadriel, involves intense emotions. And when you’re encountering one another as a reflection on the surface of the water, it’s hard to know which feelings are which.