Tag: Anonymous

Dain would totally pull a Vili and go and watch Thira at a certain time each day. Maybe they had a special time, where they would just spend time together? That’s when he goes, and he stands by her or sits across from her, commenting on her newest projects or what trouble Thorin & Co. are getting into now.

*lip trembles*

He would.

And I expect it was at day’s end, myself. When all the business of the kingdom and the forge was done, and they could shed the skins they had to wear for the benefit of others, and just be themselves in each other’s company.

AUGH, NONNIE. 

For my last two semesters of college, I was in an experimental multimedia class, which was trying to tell a story across multiple platforms. It was a miserable flop. We lost half the class halfway through, and I wish I’d left too. It ended up mostly a cheesy live performance with some poorly-made videos awkwardly spliced in. There was also sort of a website. And that was all the multimedia we had. I feel like Sansukh is becoming what that class should have been – a celebration of a single (1/2)

(2/2) story that’s actually had immense thought and care spent on it, brought to life in as many ways as we possibly can, made from love rather than obligation. This gorgeous collision of four books, six movies, one massive beautiful fanfic, hundreds of pieces of art, the voice and audio talents of what will be hundreds of volunteer actors and musicians… THIS is the dream that my celebrity guest professor with his 5-digit budget and years of experience couldn’t pull off.

Oh gosh, that class sounds like it was a hell of a chore to get through – I feel for you and for everybody involved!

I am (I know I say this a lot) very very lucky. VERY lucky. I myself as an individual haven’t really done anything all that out of the norm, really. So many people have also done exactly as I have: writing, Khuzdul, the research, the world-building, the length, all that.

This fan-community is full of amazing passion and talent and drive. I’m honestly blown away, all the time. All these people have different skills that they want to use, to bring to the table, to become a part of this thing. The initiative this fandom shows is utterly astounding.

And the creativity gets passed around and built-on, all the time. To see people becoming inspired by the work of another person is incredible.

It’s like… even from the very beginning, if someone drew a character from the fic, it made an impact on how I wrote them. The art influences my writing, which in turn influences more fiction-works, which again influences me and sometimes another artist, which feeds into the fic. People ask me about music and dancing, and so I write headcanons, which end up in the fic as compositions or lyrics which then turns into performance, which inspires MORE compositions by others, all of which are then sung by more singers and arranged for instrumentalists- which makes me want to write more songs – which the choir will no doubt have a go at – and then it may even get translated for orc-estra (i love that pun so much) – which may then appear in the PODFIC, excuse me while I faint.

It’s stunning to see all the ideas and all the creativity as people draw and write and voice-act and sing and make music. It makes this thing much less about me and what I began, and a lot more about us as a collaboration of creative people, all playing in a world we love. And that’s pretty breathtaking to me.

Bomris and Dori just having the quietest, most contented tea parties. Dori makes all sorts of sweets – a mix of the cheap, easy ones that were all that he and Bomris could make for their littles in Ered Luin, and the fancy, delicate ones with the expensive ingredients that he could splurge on in Erebor. There is tea – sometimes the think, sweet workers’ tea, and sometimes expensive tea from the Eastern or Southern dwarves’ quarters. They clink their cups together and sip.

*wibbles* ohhhhhhh

Dori totally goes on an agressive mothering spree in his first few months in the Halls. Nori and Ori (and pretty soon, Bifur) are awash in new clothes and knitwear. Their hair is braided. They are fed massive amounts of food. Dori meets Bifur’s mom and makes an especial cause of feeding her.

lksjdhf;kjsdgfaljhgdlahgalhdgfalhf

Bomris and Dori. Dori and Bomris. 

BOMRIS AND DORI.

He’d be so gentle. She’d be so gentle. THEY’D BE SO GENTLE. 

At some point after he arrives in the Halls, Dori accidentally tries to mother Hrera. There is a massive indrawn breath. Everyone waits for the inevitable explosion.

LOLOLOL, OH DEAR! I love it Nonnie! Everyone waiting for Hrera to blister Dori with the sheer force of her personality.

Except the explosion probably wouldn’t come.

Hrera would be all

There is a collective, unspoken “uh-oh.”

And then she would suggest, rather stiffly: “Dori, dear. Tea?”

And Dori would likely draw himself up and nod, and there would be tea and maybe cake. Polite, stilted conversation would eventually become sympathetic nodding as they chatted about the utter impossibility of relatives. And the Halls would quake, because that is one hell of a formidable team.

(Hrera understands. This is something she has in common with Dori, in fact. She understands that urge to care for people that is so powerful that you cannot help but become a fusser. She understands what it is like to ache for those you love, never able to care for them ever again. And she understands what it is like, those first few months having them back – how all-consuming it can feel, how frantic the need to look after them, look after them. She gets it.)