Trinkets by Independence1776

Manipulations

Fëanor and his children + modern tech in Valinor = chaos. Crackfic. Ficlet. Rated General.

This was written several years ago for SurgicalSteel and Spiced Wine.

“Father, he’s Photoshopping--”

Fëanáro raised a hand, silencing his secondborn. He made an adjustment to the microscope and turned around, looking at Makalaurë. “Carnister is doing what?”

“He’s Photoshopping a picture of me.”

“Doing what precisely?” Fëanáro asked, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t know-- I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. But it was bad.”

Fëanáro sighed and strode from the laboratory, his son trailing after him. “I knew I should have never given him that computer, and especially not that program.”

"If you knew that--”

His father didn’t stop, but pointed his right finger over his shoulder. “You are no better, not with the horrid music games you play. I didn’t spend all that money on lessons for you to waste it playing around on a computer.”

Makalaurë stopped in his tracks. “I… I think I’ll head outside.”

“Good. You do that. And grab Maitimo while you’re heading that way-- I’m tired of him using chatrooms.”

“Yes, Father.”

Fëanáro listened to the slow footsteps head off down the hall before smirking. His plan to oust the Valar through technology had only just begun, but it was a pity his sons didn’t see the true potential of computers.