#& umaia

[hugdjarfur]

❛ you’re an asshole, you know that? ❜ from Umaia

“Oh, I’ve been called much worse.” By now, this was almost a game to them. They would try to keep Umaia from nearly getting herself killed, only to be called whatever she could think of that day, today he was apparently an asshole. “You can whine and cry and call me an asshole all you want, but I’m not doing to. It’s ridiculous! Having me dress up as a barmaid to spy on the eternal fire won’t work!” They threw their hands in the air in exasperation. “I’m clearly not pretty enough to pull this off.”

[maironsmaid]

If this gets 2 likes I'll tell yall what happens in the Angbang Amnesia Lotr Au that I've been writing thinking about planning for the past ~ 8 years

[offwilds]

❛ what’s that smug look for? you think you can do any better? ❜ from umaia

The sorceress sits down, languidly stretching out her shapely, black-stockinged legs in front of her as magic thrums and flows around them. She tosses her head and her dark eyes blaze, a cold, unemotional, deep violet. She casts her gaze over at the younger mage, feeling a prickling of annoyance at her tone, at the assumption, the growing, dramatic accusations hurled her way from the very first day of their acquaintance, too banal for her. She sighs softly.

In truth, it's not Umaia that sets her teeth on edge; far from it. If anything, this daughter of Chaos brimming with primal, violent power, has been since first she saw her to the last, an everflowing source of intrigue to her— an intrigue she means to further unfold, and knowing that Aldric is rather fond of the lass too, makes her all the more, not dear to her, but something somehow akin to it. A thing of wild, unbridled Chaos, with teeth that gnash and gnaw at the world around them, bright and terrible, refusing to yield; fascinating. Nereinne likes her.

Since first thing that morning, though, everything has been spoiling her mood, making her irritable and angry, a cold, hard shard of ice: the cold, wet wind soaking the silks of her skirts as she had made her way to the Grove that morn; the black, scorched ruin of the Grove when she arrived, a reminder of everything they've been unable to salvage, all the death that lays dark and bloodless in their hands; the injustice of it all, the hollow, empty lies, the violent hypocrisy. She is irritated by the absence of Aldric, who had left before she woke up and she has neither seen nor heard from him since. She is worried about Fjandi, too, the long, dark road that lies ahead of them, now, full of devastating choices to be made, paths to be followed, steeped in darkness, in uncertainty. It wreathes itself, a heavy, cold thing, upon her shoulders, its weight, annihilating, unbearable.

And yet, she refuses to be overcome by such petty, pathetic emotions; she musters her self restraint with all the grace she can presently collect, and allowing a slow, languorous smile to drape itself over the curve of her mouth, she draws herself up into a simulacrum of her usual haughty self. 

“ yes. ” she asserts tartly, a slow shrug rolling off her delicate shoulders as she bestows her piercing gaze upon the lass.

@inkerlock

[aotearoa20]

In Mandos...

Maeglin: (to Celebrimbor) Your 'hear me out' Umaia cant be Sauron the Deciver

Finrod: (nodding)

Maedhros: that is a conventionally attractive lord of darkness

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Legolas: The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was changing their name to Gandalf.

Gandalf, lowkey worried that Legolas has recognized him as the the Umaia Morgoth sent to terrorize the silvans during the first age, before he reformed and repented: hahaha, i don’t know what you mean!

Legolas: *looks at the camera like he’s in the office*

[tar-thelien]

I need a Dagor Dagorath fic, where Elladan and Elrohir find Melkor right after the fellowship has left, they have no idea who he is, but he keeps talking about having to find his lover (or at least dear friend, husband maybe?), so they try to get him back to Elrond, weirdly they don´t get attacked on the way, expect from a giant spider that has no business being there, but are saved by orcs (?) where they begin wonder if he´s an Umaia who has changed alliance

Meanwhile, Turin is dropped somewhere in Middle Earth, with no idea where he is, and convinced Glaurung is still out there and he has to kill him

Does Mairon pick his husband and his two new pets up, or does Melkor end in Imladris as the ring is destroyed, and if the later, what does he do? Does he unleash Dagor Dagorath? Also, does anyone actually know who he is? I don´t know.

Also maybe Melkor and Turin meets but Turin might not now the prophesy and does Melkor care enough to do something about it or does he just want to find his emotional support Maia??

I´m probably never going to write it, but here it is, and if it inspires someone pls tag me, I´m begging you

[gwaedhannen]

[Excerpt from Sorrow Beyond Words: Collected Testimony of the War of Wrath, 3rd Edition; edited by Elrond Peredhel. Kortirion Public Library, copy received TA 2510]

“The worst thing I saw during the War? Ancalagon of course, but you won’t find anyone who won’t mention him. Second worst thing? It was a few months later, once Morgoth had been de-footed and dragged out by the stumps, and we were cleansing Angband. We knew we had limited time; the continent was barely holding itself together before a certain dragon collapsed Thangorodrim in its death throes. Delving into the iron hells, with practically every maia of Ulmo, Aulë, Yavanna, and Tulkas singing continuously to keep it from collapsing utterly and taking the entire north with it, just having seen what they brought out of the upper levels, was a rather daunting task. Still had a curiously large number of volunteers, since within you couldn’t hear Morgoth laughing and screaming in his cage.

“So we went fast, killing orcs, experimental monsters, the occasional Umaia. Glad to say I missed the Balrog in the forges; it killed two score before Meril finally took it down. All distractions, regardless. The pits were the real goal.

“How do I even describe them? There were, as best I could divine, about three tiers of thrall quarters. The cells, for prisoners Morgoth and his lords deemed important, general quarters for most thralls, and the pits. The Valar said that he could no longer twist elves into orcs even by the time of his first imprisonment, but from the conditions there, from the bodies we pulled out…I don’t think he cared. Every torture, every debasement, every abomination against the Eruchîn that could be imagined. For each we thought might survive if we got them to the surface, there were five who wouldn’t, and ten corpses. And in the deepest, blackest pit of them all…

“The second worst thing I saw during the War of Wrath was High King Finarfin’s face when he found his sister again and knew he couldn’t save her.”

[eri-pl]

\* I don't mean a new Dark Lord. This option is too complicated to explain in a poll option length, but I mean a situation analoguous to uinen drowning Noldor ships after Alqualonde: an Ainu tries to defend / avenge Elves and/or Men, but also acts against orders, bacause they aren't allowed to fight with Incarnates like this.

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 11b

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

As rattling as this development is, there isn't much they can do with it until the Geese condescend to approach them.

So: Wizard's Clay demonstration.

Celegorm has dug an impressively deep hole considering the limited time involved and his lack of proper tools.

Celeborn bites his tongue on a 'at the bottom of a hole, keeps digging' joke, only for Turgon to make the exact same joke. Celegorm throws a rock at him.

Gimli and Dyn direct the others in placing the Wizard's Clay carefully in the hole and laying fuses back up out of it. Legolas directs the others in stopping up their ears.

…The elves can get by with ósanwë, but they'll probably want to come up with some hand signals.

The ensuing explosion is loud and moderately impressive, but would be more impressive in rock.

Estimated sticks of Wizard's Clay left behind to threaten the peace of Middle-earth (counting the 25 left in Emyn Arnen): 5574

They repeat a few times, so everyone can get a chance handling the fuses, and Dyn demonstrates joining fuses for multiple emplacements.

"Although these are so close they'd set each other off anyway."

Estimated sticks of Wizard's Clay left behind to threaten the peace of Middle-earth (counting the 25 left in Emyn Arnen): 5560

Elrohir asks about the possibility of lighting a fuse from farther away with fire-arrows? Okay, good idea; more Wizard's Clay, more fuses — shorter this time, though they back up even farther.

The first attempt severs the fuse rather than lighting it. The second one lights the fuse, but also a small grassfire. (Fortunately the grass is green and the fire easily extinguished, even though they have to wait until after the explosion to rush forward and deal with it.) The experiment is tentatively declared a success.

Estimated sticks of Wizard's Clay left behind to threaten the peace of Middle-earth (counting the 25 left in Emyn Arnen): 5552

Gimli hopes they come across some exposed rock so he can run everyone through boring holes to place the explosives.

Risyind asks how concerned they should be about the warden coming out and attacking them as soon as they start boring holes in its house.

No one is sure. However, Glorfindel is of the opinion that if there's an umaia in there and it didn't make an appearance at any point in the Second or Third Ages when Sauron needed backup, there's probably a reason for that — maybe it can't leave without breaking something.

"Or it just didn't like Sauron," Elladan suggests.

Celeborn is of the opinion that per their palantír viewing the physical outside of the the Crucible has been weathered, so it can be weathered, so crude physical impacts short of explosives should hopefully pass as more weathering. At least assuming there aren't any windows.

The orcs agree there are definitely no windows.

****

The Geese continue to hang back.

"Do you think they're planning to fight as swans?" Elrohir asks, as they try to catch a glimpse of their great-uncles.

"…Maybe?"

Neither of them has been attacked by a swan — as with geese, it's about respecting them — but they have witnessed a few unfortunate incidents among the Dúnedain.

A large swan could probably inflict some moderate-to-serious bludgeoning damage? Which doesn't sound like the right thing to fight an umaia, but then, they've never heard anything about umaia in general being immune to blunt force, they're just… presumably durable.

"I mean, it's likely any battle with an umaia wouldn't be entirely physical, anyway…"

"Would they know how to do that instinctively?"

(Elladan and Elrohir definitely don't.)

*****

After being quieter than usual for most of a morning, Maglor guides his horse to walk beside the wagon Turgon is driving and says, grimly, "I need you to tell me more details."

"Meaning…?"

"If I'm supposed to sing to free orcs or fight an orc-warden, I need more to build on than what I know now. Tell me about Bellow, tell me about Squint — tell me about Goblin-town."

Turgon can see how that would make sense. "I can, but — when you say details—"

"None of the editing I'm sure you're doing for Glorfindel," Maglor says. "All the awful things you want to leave out to spare me."

"Maglor—"

"If I can't handle it from you, I won't be able to handle it from Celegorm, and I need to do that, so I will handle it."

Honestly Turgon would just as soon leave some things out to spare himself, but when Maglor puts it that way… "Fine. But we have to make sure Glorfindel and the kids don't hear it."

(By "kids" he means everyone born in the Third Age. Maglor considers pointing out that Elladan, Elrohir, Khitwê, and Risyind are all older than Turgon was when he died in Gondolin. Then he feels sick at the thought that Turgon and Celegorm and Curufin have all spent so much longer trapped as orcs than they got to live—)

The discussion takes up the entire rest of the day and into the night, and leaves them both rattled.

Everyone else courteously does not listen, but there is a lot of intense staring.

The next day Maglor talks to Sharlinnu.

*****

(An incomplete list of things Turgon has been editing out when speaking to Glorfindel:

Squint's suicides when he remembers the truth.

Bellow's suicides-by-orcs-or-whatever's-handy.

The cannibalism. Bellow discouraged it in Goblin-town and it was rarely anyone's first choice, but it was unavoidable in the armies — and orclings get fed dead orclings before they're old enough to make their own choices.

(The opinion that as long as you're scavenging a battlefield and they're all already dead anyway, Men are more nutritious than orcs, so.)

Knowing your body is not your own. Starting out in a shape like an elven child and growing those bone spurs and permanent bruises and painful scars.

Knowing your mind is not your own. The burn of the Shadow's influence in your mind, subtle until it isn't, calling you to serve, calling you to kill, calling you to hate, seeking to consume every other thought or feeling…

The ugly mockery of desire that summons orcs to multiplication duties. There's no pleasure. It's just an unpleasant itch. The horror of facing it with your memory intact — and how the horror fades away, because at least it doesn't make you feel anything.

That he's almost as sad about the fall of Goblin-town as he is for the fall of Gondolin. Possibly more so at this point, actually, because even if Gondolin hadn't fallen to Morgoth it would have fallen literally with the rest of Beleriand, and there have been and are many other perfectly acceptable large elven communities. Goblin-town was one-of-a-kind.

Just not caring anymore, sometimes.

Talking to Celegorm is going to be a challenge.)

[warrioreowynofrohan]

I’m going to do a poll bracket!

Favourite Female Tolkien Character

(Let me know if someone’s done it already)

Qualifications:

Must be a character Tolkien wrote (no adaptation-only characters)

Must be female

Must be named (I’ve made one exception)

In general I’ve tried to pick characters where we have something more than a name on a family tree, but there are a few of those by request

Matchups!

It’s set up so that similar characters (same family/era/species) are grouped together, at least mostly - Noldor, Sindar, Valar, Maiar, First Age Edain, Númenoreans, Third Age women of Gondor, women of Rohan, hobbits, etc. - so that the most popular members of different groups will end up going against each other. (EDIT: Bracket changed so that all Valar, Maiar, Umaia, etc are in the same segment. Minor edits made to group Númenorean and Gondorian characters.)

Often, characters are matched against ones with similar levels of notability, so it’s not just the most well-known ones steamrolling the bracket; I just find it more interesting.

I haven’t yet decided whether the semifinals will be three-way contests between the characters from each side of the bracket, or the characters from opposite sides going up against each other. Might depend on which matchups look the most interesting after the quarterfinals.

Bracket!

The bracket will start up with two very big matchups!

Míriel Therindë vs Nerdanel

Haleth vs Andreth

I’m thinking two polls per day for the first round, but might go up to four a day if it starts feeling slow.

[a-raven-shaped-void]

Bio

Hey im Sketch (Or any kin name)

Ill moatly be posting fictionkin or general tolkien related stuff here

Kins: a noncannon dwelf nicknamed Arel, Talion from shadow of mordor/war, an unnamed noncannon umaia, also a night elf death knight hero, and tiefling

my Pronouns are He/They/It/Ae

im @that-dumbass-tiefling, for more general kin and or dnd stuff

I'm also @sketchs-sketches for my art blog

I am 16

[vidumavi]

I have decided to put all my favourite silmarillion horror concepts into a numbered list for my own convenience

1. Necromancy. This is obvious, Sauron literally being "the necromancer" and enslaving mortal souls and all that. While I doubt there were literal zombies running around I do think if you got unlucky in Late Stage Beleriand, you might have witnessed some unseen force puppeteering a friend or two's mangled remains back upright on the battlefield. And, on a continent that must have been in a constant state of food scarcity, how terrible to kill an animal only to find its flesh has been rotting for weeks.

2. Transformation. What exactly makes a werewolf? The name certainly implies some sort of humanoid component. If it's possible to disguise yourself by wearing something else's skin a la Beren and Lúthien, it might be possible to put a skin on someone by force and sew it shut. What about vampires? Maybe they were all umaia of Thuringwethils sort, but they may well have been prisoners sent out from Angband with a very specific hunger rather than a generic order for killing. It might be one thing to see an old comrade attack someone with a knife and another entirely to find them eating their entrails.

3. Haunted Cities. At some point there are far more bodies than can feasibly be buried. This is especially true for the Nirnaeth battlefield, but there are cities that are entirely populated by the unburied and rotting, most notably Gondolin- what did that look like, in the decades that it was a free roaming ground for Morgoths forces?

4. Battle Trophies. Plenty of notable first age figures received no proper funerals and may well have been plucked from the rubble and ended up as statement pieces in Angband. Combine with point 1 as needed.

5. Cannibalism (?). Is it cannibalism for orcs and elves to eat each other? Elves and men? Anyway, it probably happened in various configurations. You are on a nice patrol in post-nirnaeth Beleriand and you come upon a campsite with humanoid bones in the firepit for the 3rd time this month, you sigh and wish you'd interned with finarfin instead way back when. Combine with point 4 as needed

6. Cosmic Horror. Ungolianth, the void, black holes, nameless things gnawing at the world, whatever is going on in nan dungortheb- all of it is incredibly vague by nature but it's my FAVOURITE favourite so I'm putting it on the list

[dumbass-tiefling]

Hey! You can call me Sketch

I am fictionkin, specifically a tiefling, a death knight night elf oc, half elf half dwarf oc (tolkien), noncannen umaia, and talion from shadow of mordor/war

Im 16

Might also post general tolkien, dnd, and bg3 stuff here

I use he/they/it/ae/ey and any neopronouns

my art blog is @sketchs-sketches

[offwilds]

“ i never seem to belong anywhere. or to anyone. ” from umaia

Nereinne's currently perched on a window sill near her where she may best observe the city below, appearing both simultaneously effortless and over-the-top: it is far too easy to play up the extravagance she insists to embody.

"You are a creature of Chaos; you belong to nothing but yourself." she assures her in a low, dark drawl, the flash of a fire in her violet eyes. You belong everywhere and nowhere- goes unuttered: she's traveled a long path, this daughter of Chaos, fraught with danger; she's a mage, a relic, someone from the past, however could she belong to anything (or anyone) but to herself? "It is not within our nature to be anything else but ours." this addendum is accompanied by a well-worn smirk (aloof and mysterious) and upward quirk of one perfectly dark eyebrow, molten gaze never leaving the younger mage as she gives her her answer, before withdrawing it once more.

@inkerlock

[theheavensbloom]

❛ i will never, ever, give you a moment’s peace. ❜ from umaia

Tian cut her a sideways look. How long had it been since they'd encountered one another? And now many strange adventures had they had due to her persistence? He didn't know how to explain the confusion of both gratitude and annoyance at her behaviour when he found that her entertainment had secured him a tiny missile in the form of a bizarre noblewoman.

He supposed he couldn't have begrudged her too much after looking at the state of the singed guards.

"You know, where I come from, women just send love letters to the ones they admire."

@inkerlock

[oceanmelodies]

❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜ from Umaia

They'd been practicing for a while, tirelessly committing petty crimes while Kai fumbled over tiny parlour tricks and half-fizzled spells. Magic proved itself to be harder than picking up a sword or a bow and arrow. Frightening images of his father only worked for so long until he became desensitized to his own imagined fears.

Even Kai himself was beginning to get frustrated by his inadequacies, sitting on the verge of admitting that perhaps he wasn't good at everything.

And then she said it. Danger he was not afraid of. Being irrelevant was.

It didn't happen immediately, the low rumbling of water from beneath the ground shaking the dirt and cobblestones like an earthquake before it jetted out of the near well in a thick coil spire, weaving a tide through the air like a sea serpent.

Kai looked up and opened his arms wide to accept the pour of rain as he immediately lost control, laughing joyously at his explosive success. He turned to her then, his eyes wide and daring.

"Have you lost interest yet?"