#misbehavingmaiar

Scansion:

– ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – Stones will break, and roots will squeeze, – ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – vines will grow and bend all knees; – ◡ / – ◡ / – / – mushrooms hunt and thorns yolk; – – / ◡ ◡ / – ◡ / – weeds strangle and flowers choke. ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – The age of skin is done. ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – The hour of bark is come. Baruuum.

Metrical form: Lines 1-4 are trochaic tetrameter catalectic. Lines 1-2 have no variations from the basic pattern; line 3 omits an unstressed syllable from the last foot and line 4 has anaclasis of the second and third syllables.

Lines 5-6 remove the initial stressed syllable, becoming iambic trimeter.

Manwë - Penguin

OK LISTEN. THERE IS A REASON BEHIND THIS BUT IT IS REALLY WEIRD

So for some reason I dreamed that a Silmarillion Anime had been made using @misbehavingmaiar ‘s designs for all the characters (the voice actors were neat, it was great).... Except none of the story was even remotely Silmarillion? It was basically just the characters doing...... Things. There was a forest. 

Near the end, however, Wes and I talked and concluded that “Yes. Of course Manwë’s true form is a penguin”. Which is the natural conclusion to anything about the Silm, of course, naturally....

I even drew the penguin in the dream, and when I woke I had an incredible urge to ACTUALLY draw it and share it with y’all. This is the design I gave him in my dream so... Enjoy? XD

With a wary squint at the rather vocal and rude bird, Lindethiel snatched up the note and shut her window quickly. Last thing she needed was bird shit all over her room.

She read over the note twice, brow furrowing, and drummed her fingers against it as she glanced toward her door. Elrond may have such a map, but the most likely person to have such information would be Lord Cirdan. Which felt more wrong than shuffling through the maps in the library here, so hopefully there would be something sufficient in Imladris.

If not, he’d have to make do without it.

Noticing the little angry bird still at her window, she grabbed up a plate with half a slice of bread from her dinner and carefully slid the glass up just enough to push out the peace offering.

*___* oh shit

nixiegenesis replied to your post “mmmm you know what i like? aredhel-rog /chinhands”

I’m here for it!!

excellent, excellent >:3c

Send ✂️ for your muse to give mine a haircut

@misbehavingmaiar 

[It wasn’t easy to guess which one of your muses would do that; I feel like they’d both like to mess with Ñoldorin hair if they could… then I thought it would be rather amusing with a young stupid gullible Curvo, so let’s go with Melkor in Valinor. And I hope it’s ok for you =)]

Curufinwë was still wondering how he could have let himself be convinced when an odious apprehension started to bubble in his guts. What was he doing there, sitting on a stool in front of this gigantic mirror, with a towel around his neck? Why had he accepted this stupid challenge? Nothing good could came out of it, and yet, he was there because he had decided to be there. But... did he really had to prove anything to anyone, or had he only been driven by his pride? How ridiculous.

In the mirror he could see the Vala leaning over a table behind him, but he could not make out what Melkor was actually doing... could he be sharpening scissors? Did scissors really had to be that sharp to cut a few strands of hair? And did he really want to have his hair cut?

“Are you certain you know how to do that…?” Curufinwë asked hesitantly, unsure of how to cover up his growing anxiety. The Vala, after all, wasn’t particular famous for his skills as a stylist…not among the Ñoldor at least. On the other hand, Curufinwë was almost certain that Melkor knew very well how to use razor-edged blades. And it didn’t reassure him. 

“Besides, when I said I consented to a little makeover, I did not mean you had to take the trouble to do it yourself. You must have much more important things to do and I would not like to be the one keeping you from your duties.”

The young Ñoldo wasn’t certain of anything any longer, except that this was definitely the worst idea he had ever had. But leaving now would be like admitting a weakness, like confessing that he wasn’t the steadfast and unwavering prince that he wanted to be. And he couldn’t let that happen.

Rules: post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic/original/anything!) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence. NEW, AND BETTER RULES BY ME, WESLEY: 1) Post your favorite short excerpt / paragraph / complete thought, 2) it can be any part you like, 3) it does not have to be fiction 4) it does not have to be in English.

From my totally upcoming crossover: Five Ways the Cardhouse Never Touched Avinlor (i.e. crossover of fid’s OCs and mine)

--

'I am not a human! I am Fall.'

The girl's claim was laughable--Belaicy had known, in person or by reputation, Fall, Autumn, Harvest, First Frost, Last Apple, and more Deaths than an army of revenants could shake their bones at--but somehow it was at least partly true. 'I beg your pardon. It has been long since I have had ado with your phase of the year.’ Stupid meadow.

--

Not your uncle.

“You’re not my uncle.”