"… I don’t think I should wish to see Melkor, brother. Surely he has other things to do with his time."

"You would be surprised how very little he actually seems to do. Mostly he seems to admire himself and those stupid rocks of his.”

(Source: masteroftheseas)



"Really! No covering me with seaweed? Alright then!"

"Certainly not. I am sure Melkor wishes to see you, as he so rarely gets the chance." 

(Source: masteroftheseas)

Does this mean I get to go nude as well?

"Apparently so. It seems to be a holiday of sorts!"

"Wait did I miss that it is a no-clothes holiday? I do not have to wear clothes?"

theotherwesley sent: § Slippery cousin dear

Ossë still found the shadowed waters tempting. Even though he held a great distrust and loathing for those corrupted by it, he had frustrating difficulty avoiding it. Ulluboz could not see or hear what happened in those darkest parts, and his Oarni avoided it out of fear for the unknown (and the lurking known, as well). When he slipped into that cold oblivion he was safe.

Yet he was rarely really alone. His bright, large eyes easily pierced the murky waters; even if they couldn’t, he could smell his cousin lurking within. “I did not think you were fond of my waters,” he rumbled, unable to resist the chance to parry words. Perhaps solely for the thrill of speaking with someone he was forbidden from contacting, for the rush of keeping it hidden from everyone else.

"I am not," the dark figure replied in a soothing cadence. A tail patched with white twitched just shy of the waterline. "But I am fond of you, cousin dear."

Surfacing, Ossë blinked both sets of eyelids as he took in the orca-styled fana that Mairon — now known as Sauron — wore. It was one of his better forms, and though he did not say as much, his lingering looks spoke for him. “Of course you are.” He wondered how he managed to give the enticing shine without actually being slick. “What are you doing here?”

"Perusing the catch of the day." The way the white of his belly and throat curved along his cheeks made Sauron’s grin look absurdly long. 

Ossë slid closer, his tail still happily submerged though his upper half propped by his elbows on the damp sand.”Please. You are not a threat to me. I am no guppy to be devoured,” he scoffed, tossing his head to send his hair flowing, shells and pearls clinking gently.

"Oh, of course you are not." Perhaps his grin really just was absurdly big. ”You are much more than some mere guppy.” One white-tipped finger coiled into his hair, lifting a gem-encrusted braid to inspect more closely.

The Sea-Master bared his fangs, wary of the close proximity of claws. “Just do whatever it is you came here for and be gone.”

"As you wish," he agreed pleasantly, and then he yanked his makeshift fishing line.

It was one of the strangest attacks of which Ossë had ever been the victim. Teeth were a good weapon, but they were best targeted at vulnerable spots like fins or gills or limbs — what was the purpose of biting at another mouth? A challenge to see whose teeth were sharpest and thickest, perhaps? Ossë returned Sauron’s attack eagerly, already flooded with victorious pride given how weak his enemy’s bite had been. 

He snapped his rows of fangs viciously, turning his head to add a tear to go along with the slice. But where he had expected a whine of defeat and a retreat, he was instead rewarded with a rushing growl and a slippery, strong arm around his lower back. It brushed a fin and he stiffened and flailed his tail into the surf, desperate to regain his advantage. A thick, warm appendage stretched around his flapping limb and pinned him, Sauron’s caudal fin curling and scooping into the sand to keep him close and out of the sea.

Shrieking an outraged war cry, he twisted beneath his cousin’s large form and swiped a clawed, webbed hand along his back. He surged beneath him, pressing closer in effort to leverage whatever advantage he could find. His opponent’s teeth were molten, searing where they sunk into his lips and throat deeply enough to leave open wounds that sizzled and steamed, and he hissed like a kettle as he wriggled and returned the favors with briney, icy wrath.

But something was strange. Sauron’s hands passed over his fins, and though they could easily have ripped the thin flesh apart the caresses were only harsh enough to threaten it and make him writhe, but never forceful enough to actually remove. His advantage on dry land should have made been pushed more, he should have tried to drag the sea master farther inland by now, unless—

Oh. Ossë froze like an icicle as he reevaluated this situation. Growling, biting, pressing close, holding down, fin-stroking — alone, perhaps, each of those could mean something else, but all together and with no vital injuries or impalement…

He squeaked in humiliated surprise and renewed his squirming and clawing with fresh vigor. There was one advantage still left to him and, focusing his attention to his right, he growled as he shifted to less corporeal matters. The sea gurgled and diminished, sucked away from the coast like a drain had been pulled as it roared in the distance. He narrowed his eyes (and squeaked, much to his embarrassment, when Sauron’s tail brushed over one of his dorsal fins) as the roar grew louder and the sky above him was shadowed by a wall of water that crashed upon them.

When it cleared, Ossë was gone, merely a ripple near the coast as he fled. Sauron was left drenched and scooting away from the sea, but still grinning either from the coloration of his fana or from victory at the two squeaks he had managed. Two seemed a fairly good score, after all.


But the leaves were inappropriately caressing me.

Ososassi: okay but this also applies to drunksse I think.
Círdan: omfg
Ososassi: like just. osse stuck in a little tree.
Ososassi: and how did he get there. what was he doing. nobody knows.
Círdan: lmao
Círdan: "bonding time with yavanna"
Ososassi: they just go get cirdan because help your ainu is stuck in my shrubbery.
Círdan: lmao
Ososassi: "Lord Cirdan? Lord Osse is stuck outside my window quacking loudly and calling the leaves rude."
Círdan: omfg
Círdan: that's beautiful



The sea is known to be temperamental, constantly rocked with storms and maelstroms and in Sauron’s (as he was now called) experience, the inhabitants of the waters were no different. One in particular seemed more stormy than the rest. Sauron had spoken to the being in question a couple of times before and his Master had expressed interest in perhaps gaining him as an ally.

The Vala were too busy to care about his presence here; they were currently cleaning up the aftermath of Melkor’s latest escapade: the destruction of the Lamps .That’s why Sauron was currently standing on a beach, arms full of jewelry and other accessories, though these were made of pearls and kelp and shell and other materials from the sea. He hoped he could use these items to entice the one he wished to speak with out of the waves. Sauron dumped the items onto the beach and cleared his throat.

               ” …Ossë? It’s Sa—Mairon. I wish to speak with you. “

Destruction was good and well, but it was even better when it was far away and left to others to rebuild. Ossë was annoyed by his brother’s destruction of the lamps because their crashing into the sea had upset some beaches, and there was a new fissure that made the deeps warmer than usual.

But one of the few benefits was that it gave everyone something to do and it meant he could be left to his own work in peace. Ulluboz was monitoring the progress, of course, but he seemed content to leave the actual physical labor to his vassal. The other Ainur did not even know there was any damage beneath the shimmering waves. There was an odd sort of peace to hard work and progress.

His fins twitched and he turned his head towards the shore as he sensed a presence just shy of the surf. He had not expected anyone to notice or need him. Another study of the fissure promised that it would not expand, and the bubbling glow within would stay where it was. He could leave for a time.

His aquatic form slithered through the waters easily, as much a part of the environment as a current. But as he breached the star-speckled surface he solidified, hair fanning out like an ink spill as only his eyes bothered to leave the sea. He dropped his gaze first to the treasures that littered the beach, then raised it to his companion.

"Sa-Mairon," he rumbled, teasing the strange slip of his cousin’s tongue. "I did not expect you at my shores. What a pleasure."

theyoungtraitor replied to your post: “On His ‘Allegiances’…”:
Well huh I think I wrote something against this unknowingly in the giveaway prize promo I published on Monday…. oops

shh no worries I loved that promo and also I have been writing osse for like a year and a half and I am still learning him so no worries if you did write something against it I didn’t notice and loved it anyhow. :’D

irmolorien replied to your post: “On His ‘Allegiances’…”:

//I actually think it’s very coherent with Osse’s ‘purpose’ and his particular dominion over the sea, to be changing and sort of unstable. Also I despise the idea of all ainur being regarded as though they all think and act the same, it’s absurd considering canon not to…

Oh good so my pre-sleep ramblings made sense and were logical. And yes, agreed, they certainly do not all think and act the same — yet generally speaking, most do apparently conform to the mandates not to interfere (if only because we don’t see them interfering, which could just as easily mean they do and nobody wrote it down). But no, they don’t all think and act the same; they just have similar priorities and goals and beliefs, much as any culture.


The Ninth Wave, Ivan Aivazovsky, 1850


The Ninth Wave, Ivan Aivazovsky, 1850