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#balrog
incorrectcaves · 4 hours ago
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Balrog: MELON MELON!
Misery: What are you doing?
Balrog: Trying to do magic like you. It’s all magic words and stuff, right? MELON MELON!
Misery: No! It’s science and stuff!
Balrog: So what do you do?
Misery: ...I don’t go around yelling “MELON MELON!”
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jaysosillyart · a day ago
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some street fighter characters from my latest commission
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newstreetfighters · 2 days ago
For athena’s parents, is Balrog like a grandfather to her?
Ed:”well considering he was a father figure to me I guess you could say that”
Menat:”I remember when he first saw her when she was a baby His heart literally melted as tears of joy rolled down his face”
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kanpachi-mimiga · 4 days ago
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Toroko is kidnapped by Misery!
This fanart depicts the kidnapping of Toroko......
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saintseiya-zone · 6 days ago
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Saint Seiya Awakening
Balrog Lune skin, art by 究卡Q
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Balrog: *stands and unfurls its wings and lights it’s body on fire*
Me: that’s so gay
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saintseiya-zone · 7 days ago
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Saint Seiya Awakening
Balrog Lune skin
Thanks, Shellytheleo
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outofangband · 8 days ago
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this is a first draft of the random bad idea I had! this will be rewritten, I just had this mental image and needed to get it down! 
CW: dehumanization, public humiliation, mention of bones
I have no idea how to warn for this without making it sound actually worse than it is (because please understand, there were worse versions of this!)
masterlist 
random author’s note about language at the end!
tag list: @much-ado-about-whumping @elarinya-nailo @iwenttomordor
and @tears-and-lilies I know you love public humiliation so I wanted to tag you also :)
 “You heard me, elf!” Gothmog roared, flicking his whip so it landed inches away from Maitimo’s left wrist so a flurry of sparks landed upon his hand and arm, “Crawl to the other side of the hall and fetch.” The last word was accompanied by yet another strike with his whip. This one did not miss, intentionally or otherwise and Maitimo yelled in pain as a line of his flesh sizzled. 
The elf panted. Every time he had attempted to struggle to his feet, the whips of the balrog general and a few of its cohorts had knocked him back down to his hands and knees. It had long since been made clear that he would not be allowed to leave, to rest, until he fulfilled the order. Glaring would do no good. Maitimo crawled forward a few inches, stomach turning as he eyed the pile of singed clothes and bones that had been left by another captain. One of the bones was out of place, this the one Gothmog had thrown in frustration before the idea for this little game had come to him. 
Valar,  There were only so many taunting remarks about the High King of the Noldor on his hands and knees like a hound before they...mostly...lost effect. 
The balrog general seemed to be the only one of his kin with the knowledge or ability to speak any elven tongues and he too was by far the shrewdest, the most cruel. Maitimo had felt a hatred for him from the moment of his capture when he had arrived with his own party and heard the taunts of his own father’s death. He supposed he was only to be glad that the Dark Lord himself was not here to witness this particular episode of debasement. 
There was a tension in the air that crackled like the balrogs’ own flaming whips. Maitimo grimaced, looked down at his hands and arms, both covered in welts and burns from the whips. He bent his head, his hair falling over his eyes and closed his teeth around the bone. The hall exploded into the rumbling laughter of the balrogs, so intense that he nearly dropped it. 
“Good little elf, now bring it to me,” Gothmog rumbled, “Drop it at my feet like a good pet and I will give our master a good report, tell Him his prize has seen the futility of its earlier disobedience.” 
The pain of the whips, his exhaustion and all the indignities they had yet to inflict on him seemed to no longer matter. All he felt was his anger. The bone fell with a clatter from his mouth between his arms. For a moment he thought of grasping it and flinging it across the room at the general. But this was practically difficult with the chain connecting his hands, giving him enough space between them that he could crawl but certainly not enough to throw something. 
Naked with his hands shackled as they were there was no position he could manage that would afford him any dignity. Nevertheless he turned back to Gothmog, raising himself onto his knees with his palms on his thighs, the submission in his posture sarcastic enough to enrage his tormentors. 
“Wrong choice, wretched little kinslayer,” the balrog general hissed and the whips came down on him again. The agony and heat was, Maitimo knew, a mercy compared to what he would endure later. 
(upcoming revisions: more detail on the bones, writing the scene where Gothmog initially gives the order so I can have Maedhros being like ‘what, pray tell, the fuck’, more of the aftermath, potentially Melkor hearing about it.)
(author’s note: I tend to use more common grammar for the servants of Angband and older English for Melkor to indicate that he’s speaking in a higher and older form of Quenya when he’s speaking to Maedhros or that he’s occasionally speaking in Valerin) 
second author’s note: yes the bone is elven, yes it’s probably from someone Maedhros knows 
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outofangband · 9 days ago
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@whumpingwithaquestionableauthor asked about Maedhros’s tattoos mentioned on my incomplete list of his scars!
he has several of them, nicely ironic symbols, derogatory words, etc.
A few unlucky guards are tasked with applying one of them on a very angry Maitimo. 
CW: dehumanization, restraints and collars, mentions of needles, implied enforced nudity  Angband is a hostile work environment! 
(author’s note: I actually headcanon that Maedhros received the tiniest glimpses of kindness from various orcish guards. In a fortress so large with so many, I don’t think all of them have a primary interest in torture and violence. Other tasks are needed and there aren’t necessarily enough elven thralls to always take them. That being said the ones that would be tasked with something like in this story are ones who have shown a particular taste for cruelty)
masterlist 
Tag list: @iwenttomordor @elarinya-nailo  @much-ado-about-whumping
“Hold it down, you stupid rat!” the captain barked over the struggling elf’s continued insults and thrashing and several more hands were applied to Maitimo’s legs and torso, pinning him to the table as the captain fumbled with the straps and shackles. 
“Can’t we muzzle it?” the orcish guard complained as he leaned over the surface to keep the elf from squirming free again. 
“I wouldn’t, without Lord Melkor’s leave,” the captain shrugged, glaring down at Maitimo who felt a slight twinge of triumph. The Moringotto’s demand that his face and form remain undamaged was disquieting but venting his anger on the guards who did not dare inflict permanent damage without their master’s permission was the only outlet he had. He did not cease his struggling, even as both his ankles were gripped and he was pulled a few inches down so each leg could be restrained to one of the legs of the table. The position was vulnerable and exposing and did not improve his mood. With a grunt of frustration, more hands pulled his arms forward, finally managing to shackle them down, chains bit into his skin as they wrapped around his chest so he was unable to raise himself off the table. 
 Maitimo yelped in anger and indignation as frigid water was splashed over his lower back before a rough cloth was used to scrub some of the remaining grime away. 
“Be a good dog until our master arrives,” the captain croons, running his fingers through the elf’s filthy hair, careful to keep any away from his teeth, “Let Him deal with your disobedience as He sees fit.” 
But his hand suddenly withdrew and all present turned eyes towards the door. Footsteps could be heard, drawing closer. The door opened. Maitimo closed his eyes. 
“I see our little king has not yet given up his tantrum,” the Vala spoke softly as the guards stood straight over the table as though frozen into a tableau around the now motionless elf. For a few moments there was the sound of only breath; the harsh pants from two of the guards and the softer, shallow ones from Maitimo. From the Moringotto no breath could be heard, merely the faintest rustle of his long robes on the ground as he approached. The Dark Lord nodded to one of them and they brought the supplies forward. The needle glinted in the light from the crown, far outshining the low torches along the walls. They pick up a scrap of paper where the design was outlined. Maitimo let his head fall back against the table in frustration. He had already seen the image and had no desire to see it again. As the needle was pressed to his skin, he suddenly wished the guards had gone against the Vala’s orders and gagged him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep in sounds of pain for much longer. All eyes were on him, ready to watch him break down from the discomfort after the trouble he had caused them. Every flinch, gasp of pain, eventual tear that burned in his eyes made it harder to cling onto his dignity.  Knowing what was in store for him when it was over and Maitimo was unsure if it was worth it. 
Finally the needle was cast aside and the Vala stepped closer, head tilted to the side as the captain held Maedhros’s hair up so the tattoo was more visible. 
Melkor’s eyes gleamed as he observed the wincing elf. 
“Wash away the rest of the filth when you have finished,” He said, “I will see that Nelyafinwë here is properly cleaned when he has been returned to me.” 
(author’s note: as less important guards are doing this, this isn’t one of Melkor’s favorite images, probably one of the first he gets before he’s marked with the more ironic ones)
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feistyfandomthings · 10 days ago
Imagine Vega getting stuck in a tree and the rest of shadaloo has to help him get down
I think Vega might be the reason why Shadaloo cannot have nice things.
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prayforelves · 11 days ago
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Fear your new god
He who rises from the bowels of hell
The Beastlord
Mystery mines... disappearing characters...dwelling with the enemy...you know it's just a matter of time till the Balrog new dragon breed rears its angry head
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feistyfandomthings · 11 days ago
Imagine if Vega and Balrog both slept in a bunk bed together (Vega on top Balrog on the bottom) and every night this happens
Vega:”bison! Theirs an ugly monster under my bed!”
Balrog:”I hate you too”
M bison:”can you guys please not do that for once in your life?”
ok, I may or may not got the giggles over this.
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