Hello! I'm Mercury/Draconis (they/them & nonbinary) I mostly do stuff for fandoms, but there may be some other stuff mixed in. I'm disabled (chronic pain, anxiety, depression, and something else is definitely wrong but I’m still figuring out what that is) and incredibly neurodivergent (ADHD and possibly autism), so that makes things interesting! I hyperfixate a lot.
The goblin speaks (basically any original content)
A lil abt me:
I’m Mercury or Draconis! (Not my irl name bc my irl name is boring (yes I’m aware I chose my irl name lol)) I’m sapphic (idk and idc about my sexuality beyond that), aspec, and trans (nonbinary) And yeah super neurodivergent & mentally ill :3
I also live in America so I’m a lil fucked. It could be worse ig
@valentinagotthatcake is my girlfriend and I’m so lucky to have xem I love her so much❤️
Also @smallandcrazylittleguy is my sibling!
IF ANYONE WANTS TO TALK TO ME ABOUT A FANDOM I’VE SHOWN INTEREST IN/MENTIONED EVEN IF I HAVENT MENTIONED IT IN A WHILE I AM SO HAPPY TO TALK ABOUT ANY FANDOM (OTHER THAN HARRY POTTER THAT WAS A BAD PHASE) ESPECIALLY ANYTHING TOLKIEN RELATED I AM ROTATING TOLKIEN’S WORKS IN MY MIND CONSTANTLY
Also please interact with my posts/send asks/dm me if u want! I make/reblog posts begging for interaction but it never works so I’m putting it here too and maybe someone will listen this time?
(don’t worry about saying the wrong thing or whatever btw you could just keysmash in my ask box and I’d be crying with gratitude—like genuinely you can just say hi or ask a random question or talk about a character or something and it’ll make my day)
I love the idea of elves having disabilities because it subverts the “immortality means looking and functioning like a 20-yo eternally” idea that is kind of baked in to how we are shown elves on-screen.
But the Galadriel morphing green in her truest, most powerful form and Thranduil using energy to mask his disfigurement idea got me thinking.
Imagine if elves exert energy (and limit their powers) to mask their disabilities when formally convening with non-elves, but among themselves (and maybe with people they absolutely love and consider kin, like Arwen around Aragorn), they exist unmasked?
It’s such a powerful metaphor that reminds me of how I am with disabled community. We unmask around each other. We don’t exert energy hiding our disabilities, physical or nonphysical.
Legolas allowing his joints to creak and ache, allowing himself to limp and use a cane, when he’s alone with Gimli. Legolas allowing his unmarred skin to show every bruise and scar. Legolas relaxing into the spot of blindness he’s accrued over the long years of straining his eyes to see orc packs far, far away.
Arwen’s ADHD (yes) compelling her to take long, burnout-induced rest days, compelling her to take her time. Arwen’s sense of hearing being too sensitive and overstimulating at times that she eventually develops deafness. I know the elves would craft insanelyyyy gorgeous hearing aids that gently wrap like silver vines with such intricate perfection that they stay on even through the fastest horse-riding journeys!!
And like all disabled folks, there’s a point where none of them can mask anymore, even despite taking great pains. Show me Thranduil no longer able to mask his dragon-fire burns, and grappling with self-love, choosing self-acceptance. Show me Galadriel rolling through Lothlórien’s shining forests after one too many exhausting bouts against Sauron. Traversing small paths cleared as ramps, she embodies the same characteristic grace. And even more patience now, gifted by the lived experience of disability.
Elves has always struck me as incredibly patient creatures. One of the most universal characteristics of the disabled experience is needing more time in an otherwise frenzied, short-sighted society. Time to work, think, act, speak, function. The elves prioritize equitability and respect / celebration for bravery and those who face great odds, two qualities that I think lend themselves to a worldview from which a better society for the disabled would follow.
Also give me Elrond with a prosthetic leg. YEEEAAS
I've had a certain fic idea for my favourite platonic pairing, Adar and Thranduil, for a while... It fits Tolkien Disability Pride so I took it as a sign to write the story (of course I haven't managed to finish it yet). I've smashed and mixed everything from timelines to canon versions for this, I'm afraid. Thank you for the cool event @obscuredurins!
The premise: it's a few years after Thranduil got injured by the dragon and the Woodland elves are a little out of their depth when it comes to such severe injuries and their consequences. They instated Legolas as Prince Regent and he's constantly torn between having to rule the kingdom and being by his dad's side. That's when Galadriel has the idea that maybe it would help Thranduil get back on his feet again if he had someone to talk to who knows a thing or two about disability in a society that rarely has that - Adar. She saved him from being killed, and he's lived in Lothlórien ever since so she simply goes and asks him. And he agrees to go to Mirkwood to see if he can help because the idea of someone else suffering alone is not something he can stand.
Here's a little snippet from the story. It contains a brief description of one of Thranduil's injuries, scars, and he's fully blind in this universe.
Also, English is not my native language so this is all in its raw, unbeta-ed glory xD
“Say, your accent… Where are you from?”
“Yes, Sindarin is not my native tongue,” Adar said, then smoothly changed the subject. “When did your people start to record their customs in writing? From what I knew before I came here I had thought it was a folk with lots of oral traditions.”
By now he knew the twist of the corner of Thranduil’s mouth was a sign of frustration.
“You always evade my questions. Where are you from? Legolas said Galadriel sent you – are you Silvan, then?”
Adar didn’t reply.
“Noldor folk?” he queried with the smallest hint of distaste. “You’re not a dwarf, surely, or of the men?”
“No, definitely no dwarf.”
Adar watched Thranduil’s puzzled expression and wondered how much he could tell him. Or rather wanted to tell him. Prince Regent Legolas surely knew almost everything about him already so nothing that could leave these rooms would be any danger to him.
“I’ve been to many places in my life. I walked through Beleriand, all along the river when the banks were covered in sage blossoms, miles of purple in the summer sun. And I’ve been in the highest mountains among snowy peaks and absolute silence.”
He took the jar with the scar salve while quietly reminiscing about the short, positive times in his past. Gently he started to massage Thranduil’s hand, the salve also warming his own abused skin.
“Go on,” Thranduil prompted him.
“If you let me see your arm today.”
Thranduil stiffened, but his curiosity seemed to get the better of him in the end. Adar pushed up the wide sleeve of the gown and took in the sight before him. A large chunk of muscle was missing from Thranduil’s shoulder and upper arm and his joints were, as expected, impacted by contracted scars. Carefully, Adar began to knead the stiff tissue.
“I’ve also been to the south. We don’t know a lot about the people there here in Middle-earth. And the east… It’s so vast and empty. At least that’s what it looks like. It isn’t. I spent a long time there and life just works differently there. The days are hot and the nights are cold in the Sea of Rhûn; you either think your very being will evaporate or you are curled up shivering under the moon.”
While he was talking, Adar noticed every shudder of discomfort Thranduil showed under his hands and took care not to hurt him too much. A little flexing was necessary for exercise, a bit here and a bit there, and he made use of every second he got in exchange for some relief from boredom.
“I prefer green lands, though. Flowers and vegetation. A pity Beleriand sank. I could’ve stayed there forever. Sometimes I feel like I can still smell the sage. I’m done,” he added and pulled the sleeve back down.
“You’re a weird one,” Thranduil remarked and touched his now tender arm. “You tricked me.”
Adar smirked to himself.
“Have you really been to the south? Have you seen the vineyards of Dorwinion?”
“Of course you would ask that. Yes, I have. In fact, I once sat between the vines eating grapes fresh off the plants.”
“Oh! I would have loved to have been there!”
“No, you wouldn’t,” he said, serious again. “I was moments from getting killed. I just didn’t want to die without having at least committed a small crime to earn it.” Instead of the reason being my existence.
Thranduil made an uneasy sound and shifted a little.
“I’ll leave you for today. It’s almost dinner time anyway.”
And with that Adar rushed out of the king’s chambers.
That night he was too agitated to sleep. He spent the dark hours in the forest, at first roaming around and dodging spiders, later climbing up into the trees himself to find a spot to rest, eyes wide open and alert. He had hated it when Galadriel had told him, ‘Some part of you will always be an elf’, but it was exactly that part that sought solace in nature now after having stirred up such old, painful memories again.
I don't care. I will make my favorite characters trans. I will make them trans. I will make them enby. I will make them lesbian, gay, bi, pan, omni, almond, berry, abro, aro, ace, or any other. I will and you can't stop me. I will make my favorite character have xenopronouns and neopronouns. You. Can. Not. Stop. Me.
Totally normal for a legitimate for-profit company to refuse to reclaim or stop running their products even after they're no longer being paid to do so. I'm sure it's very normal to just keep running your service for free when your contract's been terminated. Spending money to continue running cameras that supposedly no one is looking at is definitely not an indicator they are just run by the federal government to spy on everyone and only a wacko conspiracy theorist would think so.
one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.
if you have multiple lgbtq+ identities I think instead of mixing flags or anything we should make a new one that is just an image of what the acronym makes. for example I'm gay, trans and aroace, so my flag would be for the letters GTA and would look like
The prevalence of the coyote as a trickster in American myth, the jackal as a trickster in African myth, and the fox as a trickster in Eurasian myth proves that the Funny Dogy is a staple across cultures
I feel like simply calling JK Rowling a transphobe isn't strong enough anymore. Like. This is not your grandpa calling you by your deadname at a restaurant kind of transphobic. This is her wanting to eradicate all trans people (with an extra special hatred towards trans women specifically). This is her trying just that by personally funding transphobic hate groups with millions to push around laws in the UK. It is not hyperbolic to call her a dangerous, genocidal maniac.
It's not about cancelling a problematic writer. It's about literally trying to save lives by denying her as much money and power as possible.
I feel like simply calling JK Rowling a transphobe isn't strong enough anymore. Like. This is not your grandpa calling you by your deadname at a restaurant kind of transphobic. This is her wanting to eradicate all trans people (with an extra special hatred towards trans women specifically). This is her trying just that by personally funding transphobic hate groups with millions to push around laws in the UK. It is not hyperbolic to call her a dangerous, genocidal maniac.
It's not about cancelling a problematic writer. It's about literally trying to save lives by denying her as much money and power as possible.
cats always step precisely on your most sensitive areas when theyre crawling on you lovingly for cuddles. bladder dick ovaries boobs stomach bruise it doesnt matter. they have homing devices on their paws for the exact area you’re most tender at the moment and they put their full weight into that step. and sometimes they might keep their stance midstride so theyre just standing there forever forcing you to endure the pain. because they are simply too cute to get mad at
