Bingo Cards Wanted for Potluck Bingo
Our November-December challenge will be Potluck Bingo, featuring cards created by you! If you'd like to create cards or prompts for cards, we are taking submissions.
Someone is planting bombs in Minas Tirith.
Early in the Forth Age, when King Elessar's life is threatened, it is up to the young prince and an unlikely ally to bring down the threat to the realms of Men.
But in the chaos of a city rocked by violence, Prince Eldarion Telcontar will discover the true meaning of his inheritance.
As Isildur and Elendil leave Númenor to the Falas, black clouds circle the island. A strange fortune teller makes her appearance in Tar-Míriel's garden, claiming she talks to the rain. A power Sauron does not possess.
All is not as it seems when Thranduil enters the ancestral Feanorian estate, but he fails to fully comprehend the scale and nature of the risk. If he's very lucky, one day he might even get to leave.
A young Númenorean has a close encounter with a deity of his mother's people.
Elwing must pass through the abandoned forest of Doriath to reach her aunt's house. As long as she stays on the path and keeps her magic jewel close, she should be safe...
Celegorm took the javelin from the beast, examining it. He ran his finger over the blade, where the poison glistened in the sunlight, then sniffed his finger. His gaze flicked up to Eöl’s. Eöl thought to see anger or triumph flicker in the Elf-lord’s eyes, but they were cold and impassive, and when he spoke, his voice was deadly quiet. “I wonder: Who was this meant for—your wife, or your son?”
Eöl felt the blood drain from his face, and he reached for the hilt of his sword.
Curufin is not the only son of Fëanor Eöl meets upon the plains of Himlad.
Or, Eöl meets Celegorm while pursuing Aredhel and Maeglin, and things go very badly for him.
A disabled young man is approached by a mysterious stranger. A triple drabble.
Thranduil, Oropher, and Elwing have escaped Menegroth and must make their way through the forests of Doriath.
Carn Dûm had always been a far distant and ancient terror, a dark shadow on the most distant horizon. But with the influx of orcs into the north out of the Misty Mountains and perhaps from even farther away, there were rumors that the Enemy wanted to retake Carn Dûm and begin rebuilding the old kingdom of Angmar.
My second artwork for TRSB 2022. Elrond is secretly visiting Númenor during the reign of Ar-Pharazôn, years after Sauron’s capture, and is captured himself.
Chroniclers will claim--above all else--that Maeglin left Nan Elmoth for desire of lordship alone. While we all know how the story ends, before that there was more: a mother and her son and a dark dark wood; three lives and three deaths, and the dazzling sunlight in between. This story is a portrait of the why behind the flight: family violence and a woman under siege, a child grown to adulthood in lonely darkness, learning to fight with only the tools provided him. It is a tale of childhood nightmares maturing into something more--manipulated by heart-darkened fathers and gently used by desperate mothers--until living becomes surviving and reality is a dream...
What did they mean, these small, precise assemblages?
Drabbles and one-shots written for instadrabbling sessions on the SWG Discord server.
he inspires in others what he feels within himself.
admiration. respect. love. worship. (for melkor.)
fear. regret. despair. (for the valar.)
betrayal. (his own.)
a collection of writings on mairon, and how he becomes what he will become.
(a fancy way of saying how i explore headcanon for the gazillion years of mairon\'s life until the end of the world)
The main theme of the Non-Canon stories here will be Humor/Parody, bordering on the "Heretic". Please do not read if you are easily offended by these contents.
All stories will contain much adult language, innuendo, nudity, suggestive/compromising positions, and many embarassing situations for the characters, especially the Fëanorions and Mary Sue.
A young boy is lost during the long hunt of the Eglath for their missing king.
He approached the prey licking his nose, knowing he walked like a king who deserved reverence. The man just watched but didn’t back away. This was one stubborn human! Perhaps he, too, was famished?
AU in which Númenor fell long before Ost-in-Edhil.
An Angbang warm-up drabble with the hitching of breath, whispered words, and the ironlike grasp of Melkor on the wrists of Mairon.
"All right, hunting down Daeron the Minstrel: that sounds like fun. But where would we even begin to look for him?"
Maedhros and Maglor realise the price they have paid for the Silmarils.
When Fëanor realize the truth about his son's realtionship with his cousin he tries to break the two apart by forcing Maedhros into a marriage. What he fails to realize is that he by doing this is introducing an innocent third person into the family, a young nis who does firmly believe that this will be the end of everything. How can she survive when hearts turn dark and cold and the light itself is stolen from them. Can she ever find true love? And will the truth about her unusual life ever be revealed?
Barely a long-year after the Last Alliance all is not well in Imladris. Elrond's household has been dealt a crippling blow: a very young Elrohir has disappeared. After decades of false leads he is found in the Far South of Middle-Earth. Can Glorfindel find and rescue the descendant of Earendil once more? There is just one problem: Elrohir has no memory of who he was, and little interest in leaving his people's fight against the Black Nùmenoreans of Umbar...
A huge thanks to my beta, the irreplaceable Dawn Felagund, who made this tale at least twice as good as it was originally. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Maedhros and Maglor, after the War of Wrath. Maedhros wants it all to end. Maglor wants something different, and receives help from an unexpected side.
It was never the right moment to leave Doriath.
One of the first big leaks happened in the Hall of Ages, once used for the spectacular Autumn Moon dances. Formerly a favorite room of the Queen. A section of gilded woodwork, encrusted with carven grapes and flowers, gave way and fell to the floor. Water streamed in, ruining a delicate mural of the Great Journey. The polished parquet floor swelled and warped beyond repair.
No one was thinking about dancing, so soon after the King’s death and the Sack. They shut up the room and left it be.
A collection of ficlets/drabbles for Terrifying Tolkien Week 2017.