#confessional sfw

[the-angband-confessional]

*Is writing something when Mairon comes in.*

Mairon: "What are you doing?"

Me: "Writing a poem."

Mairon: "About?"

Me: "The most wonderful thing in this whole wide world."

Mairon, jealous: "Oh? And that would be?"

Me, turning to look at him: "Why, you of course. What else would it be?"

The Maia blushes. “I am moved, my love,” he begins, his cheeks aflame. “Pray read it to me; I wish to hear it.”

He crosses to the nearest chair and makes himself comfortable. Presently, he says, “I must ask you, however, to not let the master hear you declaring me the most wonderful thing in this whole world. There will be no end to his sulking if he does.”

[the-angband-confessional]

okay I didn't send the last few asks but it sounds like morgoth can't handle mairon getting like, any positive things said about him by other people? and... I feel like starting shit, soooo

*on a megaphone outside of Angband's gates, with great hostility* Mairon's hair IS so pretty and he's also SO PRETTY, he's THE MOST WONDERFUL THING IN THE WHOLE WORLD, everyone else seems INSIPID, DUMB, and DRAB in comparison

Melkor, standing on the walkway that ran along the ramparts, hears what is said and clutches at his chest with both hands. “Oh!” He cries. “To be compared to a servant in both fashion and beauty! To have my own greater beauty scorned so! Fetch the dresser!” He shouts at an orc nearby. “And my barber! I must show this admirer of Mairon who is the true beauty of us all!”

He pauses for a moment, thinks, and adds more to his command. "And fetch Mairon! He must put an end to such vile slander once and for all."

[the-angband-confessional]

*Melkor, returning from the battle against Fingolfin.*

Me: ...

Me: Why did it take so long? 🤨

Melkor, startled by the question, hesitates for a moment. “I merely restrained myself, Y/n,” he swiftly explains. It is a bald-faced lie, but it is the only way for him to save face. “That is why I lingered overlong on the battlefield. Fingolfin insulted me with his challenge, and I thought of toying with him and giving him false hopes. Oh! How glorious that was! Why do you stare, Y/n? Do you doubt my tale? Oh! You doubt me! How could this be!”  

[the-angband-confessional]

*Looks around, makes sure no one sees. Leans forward and kisses Melkor's head.*

The Vala, startled by the sensation, opens his eyes and looks around his vast and empty throne room, unable to find the one who awoke him with a kiss.

"Hmm," he murmurs, his body filled with a lazy sense of ease. "It seems that I have an admirer. Perhaps I should put on a pretence at being asleep. Then the one who kissed me will surely appear a second time. All will be revealed then."

[the-angband-confessional]

*makes Mairon a friendship bracelet, then leaves it on his anvil mysteriously*

Mairon returns to his forge, hoping for one uninterrupted day of work and creation. What he finds is the brightly coloured yarn adornment resting against the dark steel of his anvil. He picks it up, holds it against the lamplight, and studies it keenly while turning it this way and that. The yarn, he discovers, is quite fine, and the knotting is quite intricate. At length, he tells himself, “Whoever wove this is quite skilled, but they are not here. Perhaps I should have someone find the maker of this gift.

[the-angband-confessional]

*Looks around, makes sure no one sees. Leans forward and kisses Mairon's head.*

Mairon stares at you, stunned by your boldness. “No one has ever…” he sputters, his words trailing off into silence. He had never expected such a gesture from anyone, least of all you. At length, however, he studies you and says, “Pray why did you kiss me so, Y/n? Was there a reason for you to do it?”

[the-angband-confessional]

*wears an orange dress, comes to stand next to Melkor*

Our matching Spooky Season costumes. We're the main colors of Spooky Season.

(*pulls Mairon next to them*)

And our two-in-one.

Melkor beams beatifically. "Indeed, Y/n," he cries heartily. "We are a most matched threesome! Come, Marion!" He adds, drawing Mairon closer. "Let us savour the delights of this season together! What say you to this plan?"

"I will join," Mairon says, "but only on the condition I get to keep my fair share of the season's spoils. Do you agree, my lord?"

Melkor grumbles. Never would he have considered letting another have a fair share of the spoils. Nevertheless, he nods his assent and extends his hand. "We have an accord," he declares.

[the-angband-confessional]

the secondhand katana you gave me keeps whispering, mairon

is it cursed... or does it just need enrichment

Mairon lifts the blade and listens intently. He hears the whispers and perceives almost immediately what this blade—one that was plainly infused with an ancient form of magic—desires: something to toy with. An offer is made, and that offer is accepted.

“Let us make a gift of this to Tevildo,” he says, sheathing the sword in its scabbard. “It will drive him to distraction with its whisperings, but it will serve him right to come into my forge and push implements to the floor while my back is turned to him.”