#GIL chapter three

[beachyserasims]

Geneva Island Legacy┃Chapter three┃One New Message

Spicy version + Transcript below 18+ ONLY PLEASE

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[echo-bleu]

Noldor Hair Headcanons (3/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | On AO3

Some lighter Kidnap Fam content, after the downhill freefall that was the last chapter. With a dash of Finrod in Valinor.

Elrond and Elros have never had their hair braided when they end up with Maedhros and Maglor.

They don’t realize what they’re asking when Elros grabs a hairbrush and puts it in Maglor’s hand.

Maglor understands that, but decides that the twins need parental care, even though he has no right. He brushes their hair and leaves it loose at first.

But the twins have watched Maglor braid Maedhros’s hair and they soon start asking for more interesting hairstyles.

Eventually Maglor explains to them that it can only be done by family.

The twins have a whole silent conversation.

“What does it take to be family?” Elros asks eventually.

Well, braiding an unrelated child’s hair is pretty close to informal adoption.

Elros forces the brush into Maglor’s hand again.

Maglor stares.

Elrond shakes his head and runs out.

Of course, Elrond must hate them. He has every right. Sure, Elros has started to warm up to them, but that’s just because he’s affection-starved, probably. They’re still kidnappers.

Maglor is about to put down the brush and try to refuse when Elrond comes back.

He’s holding a second hairbrush.

He hands it to Maedhros expectantly.

Maedhros cries.

Maglor cries.

The twins’ hair really doesn’t hold braids very well, and they’re still kids who run around and play, but damn them if Maglor and Maedhros aren’t going to do their best.

Now all of their people can see that the twins are well-loved.

Maedhros and Maglor also proudly sport a few clumsy, wonky braids each.

They’re less wonky with time, and eventually the twins are doing their fathers’ (kidnappers’) hair as often as not.

Finrod is reembodied shortly before Eärendil and Elwing gets to Valinor. It’s too early and he’s Not Doing Well. While in Middle Earth, he was the one who let basically every one of his friends braid his hair, now he can’t stand the thought of someone touching him that way.

But Beleriandic battle braids feel wrong in Tirion. And he’s desperately trying to reckon with his trauma, with Sauron defeating him by singing about the kinslaying, so he can’t leave his hair loose like the Teleri.

And he can’t quite get the sight of Edrahil’s bloody braids spat out by a werewolf out of his head.

He wears nothing but the very strange-looking (to Amanyar) Mourning Braids he designed after Dagor Bragollach for a couple of years.

Then after an episode of really bad depression and nearly fading, he cuts his hair short.

No-braiding-possible kind of short.

While not unheard of in Beleriand (sometimes former thralls keep their hair very short, like Rog), it’s unthinkable in Valinor, especially for the Crown Prince of the Noldor.

He is stared at a lot, his reputation goes down the drain, but to Finrod it’s liberating.

He does let his hair grow out again eventually, but only when other Exiles start coming back and choose to keep the Beleriandic braid styles, and it becomes a fashion statement rather than a mark of shame.

Finarfin is Very Shocked arriving in Beleriand when he finds his (single remaining) child with her hair loose and everyone else with weird self-braided battle hairstyles.

After a battle or three where he ends up with his hair matted with blood and mud, he caves and gets Galadriel to give him battle braids.

By the end of the war he’s even learned to do them himself! Let it not be said that King Arafinwë Ñoldóran didn’t rise to his calling.

The night before sending the Elrond and Elros to Gil-galad, Maedhros and Maglor undo all of their braids. Everyone cries.

Maedhros and Maglor meant this to minimize the ‘taint’ their names would put on the twins, by making it look like they were still hostages to the end, but the twins stop on the way to do each other’s hair because one does not meet a king with their hair loose, they have manners (which the Fëanorians taught them, so they’re Very Specific Manners), so the effect is lost. Gil-galad has Questions. The twins refuse to lie.

Then, before going to steal the Silmarils, Maedhros and Maglor do each other’s hair, in a style of their father’s that they haven’t worn since the Oath.

Maglor braids a single golden ribbon into Maedhros’s hair.

They have very few pieces of hair jewellery left of their brothers’, but they use all of them.

They both know it’s the last time.

To be continued

I did some sketches for visual reference of a few of the hairstyles mentioned here, if you want to see what I'm imagining!

[chronolojay]

gwen stacy, arachnophobia. a web weave based on the incredible fic by @rappaccini

this fic changed the way I think about gwen as a character and got lodged in my brain since I first read it. its a fic that makes you want to make art about it and it is absolutely worth your time.

Sources under the cut

PART 1: The Fall

IMAGES:

The Amazing Spider Man 2. Directed by Marc Webb, performance by Emma Stone, 2014. Gerry Conway, writer. The Night that Gwen Stacy Died. Pencils by Gil Kane. Inks by John Romita. Colors by Dave Hunt. Letters by Artie Simek. The Amazing Spider-Man #121, 1973. @gui_la_ume, TikTok, 2023, LEGO Spiderman Animation, https://www.tiktok.com/@gui_la_ume/video/7245780799251860763. Lavergne, Max. "Coming Up With a Complete List of Ways to Die", Infinite Gossip, Sep 28, 2023, https://infinitegossip.substack.com/p/coming-up-with-a-complete-list-of. Pal, Marijan. "Ajshil, Oresteja, SNG Drama in Ljubljana",  Wikimedia Commons,1968,  https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ajshil,_Oresteia,_Drama_SNG_v_Ljubljani_(4).jpg. Spider-Man 3. Directed by Sam Raimi, 2007.

TEXT:

the garages. "solar eclipse". https://open.spotify.com/track/23y7JvIq11f1NHnwxWC27P?si=7b4482b1601e40de Madison, Piper. "Phonograph" . https://open.spotify.com/track/13ypXt9ag0Rq8uLBe2tZqn?si=d0aab028801e419d “Memento mori.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/memento%20mori. Accessed 1 May. 2024. Oates, Joyce Carol. Blonde: A Novel. 2000, ci.nii.ac.jp/ncid/BA68593021. The Oresteia, Aeschylus rappaccini. arachnophobia. https://archiveofourown.org/works/48363238/chapters/121980043  Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. Directed by Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson, 2023.

PART 2: Rage, OR: Tear It All Down

IMAGES:

Area 51 circuit board, "I'M NOT DEAD YET" via https://arcadeheroes.com/2014/04/20/arcade-games-easter-eggs/ are you in hell via https://www.tumblr.com/screenshotsofdespair/705113397985968128 A Softer World. www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=891. bloody knuckles. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/68/68/62/686862f692cfb5e02b76013701ff3347.jpg burn it all lighter via https://png-heaven.tumblr.com/post/675085348575084544/love-still, https://www.etsy.com/listing/717241294/personalized-lighter-zippo-engraved caitlynsarah95, "Hands". Deviantart, May 3, 2019, https://www.deviantart.com/caitlynsarah95/art/Hands-796203302. Daley-Ward, Yrsa, "all the wrong colours" "DIY Three Ingredient Venom Slime", elledoingstuff, https://web.archive.org/web/20201126155036/https://shedoesstuff.com/2018/10/22/diy-three-ingredient-venom-slime/  Gerhard Richter Untitled (5 Jan 1990), 1990 Marchese, David. “Kathleen Turner, in Conversation.” Vulture, 7 Aug. 2018, www.vulture.com/2018/08/kathleen-turner-in-conversation.html. MarianneCreates, "live with this", via https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/98874045 McGuire, Seanan, and Rosi Kampe. Spider-Gwen: Ghost-Spider Vol. 1. Marvel, 2019. Melissa P. Directed by Luca Guadagnino, 2005. Paskow, Linnea "Splitter", 2020.  https://linneapaskow.com/paintings-/18 Roland Arhelger, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Verrazzano-Narrows_Bridge_(New_York).jpg Sin, Nata. "Menotaxis", November 8, 2022. https://instagram.com/nata__sin__?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== "Spider PNG image image with transparent background", via https://pngimg.com/image/4537. "Spider Transparent #1558430", via  http://clipart-library.com/clip-art/spider-transparent-2.htm. "Spider PNG Image" via https://www.pngall.com/spider-png/download/1726 Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. Directed by Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson, 2023. "Transparent Spider Gif #1587577", via http://clipart-library.com/clip-art/transparent-spider-gif-23.htm. "Transitions Purple T-Shirt + Download", august, via https://store.augustalsina.com/products/transitions-purple-t-shirt-pre-order-download

TEXT:

Boyer, Anne. "WHAT RESEMBLES THE GRAVE BUT ISN’T". 2017.  Moyers, 17 April 2017, https://billmoyers.com/story/poetry-month-what-resembles-the-grave-but-isnt/ Carson, Anne. H Of H Playbook. New Directions Publishing Corporation, 2021. Euripides. Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides. New York Review of Books, 2008. Lord Huron. "Not Dead Yet", https://open.spotify.com/track/5NRbNXwXHM9mYgxMhzVWTP?si=d55caaf2461a4675 rappaccini. arachnophobia. https://archiveofourown.org/works/48363238/chapters/121980043 

PART 3: Live

IMAGES:

277: Venetian Memento Mori Earrings, Ragoarts.com. www.ragoarts.com/auctions/2021/07/summer-jewels/277 beigeandrose. “The 1990s Goth Faux Leather Lace up Chunky Heels Platform Boots Size US 8.” Etsy, www.etsy.com/listing/117460104/the-1990s-goth-faux-leather-lace-up. “Clasped Hands of Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning.” The Metropolitan Museum of Art, www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/11156. Coello, Iban. Carnage-ized Variant Cover, Spider-Gwen: Ghost-Spider Vol. 2 - Impossible Year. Marvel Entertainment, 2019. Forcibly Feminized at the Pharm, The High Femmes, 2022 Hodan, George. "Spider Web." PublicDomainPictures.net, https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/en/view-image.php?image=21073&picture=spider-web Home, pinkshift, 2023 "Nice While It Lasted." Bojack Horseman, created by Raphael Bob-Waksberg, season 6 episode 16, Netflix, 2020. Rainbow, Kesha, 2017 Shinkai, Makoto, and Midori Motohashi. The Garden of Words. Kodansha Comics, 2016. Skin-N-Bones. “An top down image of red soup, on a blue background, with noodles spelling out ‘Everybody Dies.’” Tumblr, 12 June 2013, skin-n-bones.tumblr.com/post/52800040011. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. Directed by Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson, 2023. "Spiderman Graffiti, Pittsburgh", by chronolojay “THAT’S BELIEVABLE!” Tumblr, 3 Mar. 2024, www.tumblr.com/thatsbelievable/743968419651665920?source=share.

TEXT:

Latour, Jason. SPIDER-GWEN VOL. 6: THE LIFE OF GWEN STACY. Illustrated by Mike Ploog, Cover Art by Robbi Rodriguez, vol. 6, ‎ Marvel Universe, 2018. Limón, Ada. “Dead Stars.” Poets.org, 1976, poets.org/poem/dead-stars. rappaccini. arachnophobia. https://archiveofourown.org/works/48363238/chapters/121980043  Zusak, Markus. The Book Thief. Knopf Books for Young Readers, 2007.

[the-passenger-if]

hi Pime! Is it too early to ask questions about your new project yet? ROs and characters and setting and stuff? Sorry if this sounds pushy, that’s not intended!

Not at all! I enjoy talking about my IFs <3

Since I'm working on two projects I'll give you a quick rundown of both of them. First,

❆❆❆Leesangre❆❆❆

This game is set in the southernmost tip of South America in a distant future after a cataclysm wipes out most of humanity and the Earth turns into a big snow globe.

The main character travels in a caravan along with their family/clan which are also the only people they have ever interacted with, 1. because there aren't a lot of human beings around, just small settlements, and 2. because their family doesn't want other people to know about the main character. The lack of contact with other human beings and their constant dependency on their family has made the main character very sheltered.

The game starts after the death of the matriarch of the clan just as the main character's big brother becomes the new leader and everyone is feeling very uncertain about the future. The family consists of the main character's father (a huge mother-hen to everyone but mostly to MC and MC's niblings); the main character's brother (who has a strained relationship with MC); the mechanic of the caravan (the best mechanic in the world, or at least that's what they proclaim); the "shaman" of the caravan (a woman the caravan adopted when she was nine, she's in her late twenties at the start of the game); the main character's nephews, two teens who are also the clan's hunters, and the preteen nibling who has yet to find what role in the clan they will fulfill (these three were given to the clan when they were six, five, and one year old and they are presumably children of another big brother MC has never met); the main character's five-year-old niece and four-year-old nibling (they are the children of MC's brother and the mechanic). The clan also adopts a guy they find passed out in the snow at the start of the game (something neither the clan nor this guy really wanted but is forced onto all of them after he finds out about the main character).

The romantic options are:

Heco (they/them) — the clan's mechanic. They are thirty years old and they prefer to be maintaining the caravan than interacting with others but they don't mind people sitting in a corner and watching them work if they aren't too distracting and promise not to touch their tools. They're also the parent of MC's youngest's niblings, but they aren't in a relationship with MC's brother and never have been. It's a bit complicated.

Mo (she/her) — the curandera or shaman of the clan. If Heco is the hands of the caravan, Mo is its soul. It's impossible not to know where she is at any given time because she's a talking machine and also the type who loves to make people laugh. Of course, her jokes are hit or miss now that everyone is mourning the clan's matriarch but Mo's sense of humor can be like a runaway freight train if she isn't paying attention. (Mo is also my attempt at the friends-to-lovers trope)

Gil (he/his) — the guy the clan saves from certain death. He's in his early twenties and speaks a language that's more common in the north of the continent, so what was he doing completely alone so down south? Even though not much is known about him, he is friendly and quick to adapt to his new life in the caravan.

This game is a trilogy and I will add a few more ROs in the next books.

Project 2 is called,

˚.༄˚.༄A Song of Sirens and Soulmates (ASOSAS)˚.༄˚.༄

ASOSAS is set in modern times (2024∼) in an alternate timeline where Sirens appeared in the fifties changing the world forever. The game starts in New York but the main character and their buddy are thrown into the Siren realm around the first or second chapter so don't expect a lot NY lore.

In this alternate timeline Sirens are considered THE beauty standard with tall and toned bodies if they are male and petite and graceful figures if they are female. Also pointy ears, cavernous black eyes, and wide mouths full of sharp teeth.

Although they prefer to live in their own dimension it isn't rare to see Sirens as movie stars, runway models, and musicians. Most humans won't ever interact with this larger-than-life creatures but a few lucky ones will get claimed by the Song of the Siren, a red dot that shows up just above a person's belly button and marks them as a Siren's soulmate. Sure, leaving the human realm means never coming back but most people will take the opportunity if it means marrying and forming a family with these impossibly beautiful (and rich) beings.

Unfortunately, the main character of this game isn't interested in any of that and has been on the run since they were twenty and they were claimed. Seven years later, their betrothed finds them in a prison cell after they and their road buddy are detained at a punk show. MC is able to convince the Siren to bring said road buddy along and off they go into the Siren realm. Now MC and their ally must come up with a plan to escape before MC's wedding day befalls them.

The romantic options are:

Spook (ze/hir) — MC's ally in this mess. They met a month before the start of the game and decided to travel together for the time being. Spook is a thirty-three year old crust punk that can't stand Sirens and the power they wield over humans. Ze's also half-human and half-Siren, something ze carefully hides behind masks and dark shades. (Non-binary RO)

Verna/Vernon "Vern" Harley (she/her or he/his) — Twenty-four year old Vern is on the same boat as MC; they are a Siren's soulmate who has just arrived to this realm. Unlike MC, however, they've completely bought into the Siren fantasy and can't wait to marry and form a big family with their betrothed. Vern might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but they are a sweetheart and painfully candid. They are a breath of fresh air among the sneers of the Sirens. (Gender choosable RO)

Camille Abadi (she/her or he/his) — In their mid to late thirties, Camille has been married to their Siren for a longer time than they've been single. They speak with the tiniest trace of a french accent, which is hard to notice when they so seldom speak. They are very polite and attentive but a hard person to get to know on a deeper level. (Gender choosable RO)

[wordbunch]

✨ wordbunch masterlist ✨

Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit

➳ HEADCANONS

➳ multiple characters (x reader)

you’re in the fellowship and the hobbits have a crush on you

how the hobbits look after you when you’re sick

the fellowship reacts to you singing

LOTR characters taking care of an overworked partner

the fellowship meeting their partner’s family

how you look after the hobbits when they’re sick

LOTR/TH characters with an extroverted partner

hobbits with a partner whose love language is physical touch

hobbits ft. cuddles and kisses

the fellowship tries to set you up on a date

how they take care of a sick/injured partner

their love song (taylor swift edition) - LOTR characters

their love song (taylor swift edition) - the hobbit characters

how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked (lotr + th characters)

➳  one character (x reader)

being a ranger with Aragorn

Boromir with a hyper partner who infodumps

Boromir as a (girl)dad

➳  multiple characters (no reader)

the fellowship in a college dorm (modern au)

great middle-earth bakeoff (the fellowship)

➳  one character (no reader)

random Pippin headcanons

➳ MULTI-CHAPTER STORIES

“Winter Forest” (Legolas x female reader): part one /// part two /// part three

“One Lifetime With You” (various characters x elf reader): BOROMIR /// FARAMIR

"Hopeless" (Pippin x female reader): part one /// part two

➳ SFW ALPHABETS

Éowyn

Boromir

Éomer

Aragorn

Legolas

Pippin

Frodo

➳ ONE-SHOTS

“better company” (Sam x Reader)

"a little secret" (TH Bilbo x Reader)

The Rings of Power

➳ HEADCANONS

➳ multiple characters (x reader)

how they comfort you when you miss your family (Galadriel, Arondir, Elrond, Celebrimbor, Gil-galad) 

their love song (taylor swift edition) - the rings of power characters

➳  one character (x reader) 

being in love with Elrond

Elrond getting jealous

rivals to lovers with Elrond

Elrond as a dad

➳ SFW ALPHABETS

Elrond

Galadriel

Isildur

➳  ONE-SHOTS

“reminiscence” (Elrond x Reader)

“perfectly proper” (Elrond x Reader)

“strong, brave, lovely” (Elrond x Reader)

"countertop confessions" (Isildur x Reader)

"healer's healer" (Elrond x Reader)

"oh, how unreasonable" (Halbrand x OC/reader)

Random

my re-read of The Hobbit - thoughts

PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING if you enjoyed a fic, so more people can potentially see it!

[carlosfreckles]

i am obsessed with both your Carlos gif sets (esp the latest harlos one!!!) and your harlos fic omg it’s one of things that keep dragging me back into the descendants fandom, carlos de vil is my special little guy and you write him so well!! do you by any chance have any harlos hcs or just Carlos de Vil fic recs? I fear the latest chapter of your harlos fic has only deepened that hyperfixation lol

This is so nice, I'm glad you're enjoying all forms of my content! I adore Carlos so much, and I ship him with several people, but the harlos dynamic is so fun to explore and write. I will take any excuse I can get to put more harlos content into the world so here are some personal headcanons for the ship:

Carlos loves hearing Harry sing a sea shanty and hearing him sing is one of the few things that can get him to calm down from a bad nightmare or an anxiety attack

Harry is actually smarter than people give him credit for but he likes to play dumb to get his way, but Carlos never lets him get away with it

Harry likes to put eyeliner on Carlos and he gets pouty if Carlos does it himself

Carlos and Uma are the only people that are allowed to touch Harry's hook, Gil would be on the list but no one wants to know what would happen if he lost it

As far as fic recs go anything written by @bunny-lou is gold whether it's harlos or another pairing that involves Carlos. Here's a little list of my fav harlos fics on AO3 (there are so many great ones these are just my favs out of what I've read recently):

How To Fall In Love - Harry Hook's Five Easy Steps by puff_the_magic_dragon

Strayed by callous_and_misunderstood

May Contain Traces of Artificial Love by GabbyGums

You might have already read them (I know I've gone through every harlos fic I can find on AO3 at least three times already) but I like re-reading these fics specifically because they just capture different elements that I love about this ship so perfectly.

[m3rricat]

Advocatus Ardens - Ch. 14

>>Read on AO3<<

We're back, baby!

Pairing: Wyll/Astarion

Rating: M

Wyllstarion slowburn set in a modern-with-magic-lurking-there AU Baldur's Gate and later Sigil; public defender attorney!Wyll (aged up to 30s) and client!Astarion (still a vampire)

Chapter preview:

“… Sigil?” Wyll said slowly.

“No, no—Sigil. Hard G,” the man in the pinstripe suit corrected. His eyes roved over Wyll, Astarion, and Leo. “You lot just came through a portal, didn’t you?”

Astarion was still prickling with anger at Wyll, but nonetheless, they exchanged a look. Astarion kept his mouth clamped shut in a thin line. So, Wyll made the decision.

“Yes, we did.” What use was there in lying? Within the first few seconds of meeting a native of whatever Si-gil was, Wyll had already made it obvious they were from out of town.

The man craned side to side, looking behind them. “It isn’t still open, by chance?”

“Not that we saw,” Wyll said.

“Welp, can’t have all the luck,” the man sighed, then smiled winningly at the group. “So. You cutters must have dropped in from one of the Gate-towns, then?” He watched their blank expressions, and suddenly got a little more serious himself. “No? Then… the Hells?” he ventured, eyeing Wyll.

“No,” said Wyll firmly.

“Huh. Then where on the planes are you from, friends?”

All three of them stared back at the man. It was Astarion who finally piped up, after glancing irritably at the others. “I think you’d call it the Prime something-or-other. From what I recall.”

“What? Are you—” the man’s eyes bugged out of his head. He glanced from one to the other. Sniffed at them, for some reason. “You’ve got to be soddin' kiddin' me. The Prime Material Plane?” He turned aside, muttering to himself. Wyll caught some grousing about the portal being gone, but then the man turned back to them with an even more gracious smile than before. He swept into a teetering bow. “Gentlemen! My sirs prime! It's my honor to be the first to welcome you to the center of the multiverse, the ring around which the Planes turn! I am Albrim Knopple, one of the last esteemed touts around. Call me Al, I insist! And whom do I have the pleasure of addressin'?”

As the other two stayed stonily silent, introductions fell on Wyll.

“Hmm,” Al peered at them after Wyll gave their names, rubbing his chin under his impressive beard. “So. A human. A tiefling. And… huh. A sharp-toothed deader?”

“I beg your pardon?” spluttered Astarion.

[ming-sik]

solemnly going back to the start of the rewrite im gonna post whenever i finish it and deleting the paragraph where i was like "so this is just gonna be a vague summary :) i might add more details later but this is just to get the AU solid in my head :)" because that is a lie. im doing summaries at the chapter level and therefore have only gotten to p3v5 in 19,000 words. im incapable of not doing this btw but to give you a taste of what im actually cooking i will do, my utmost, to summarize things in less than a thousand words:

rozemyne is born with laynoble mana that she only manages to compress to mednoble mana before her baptism, at which point she has devouring clumps, which work the same way as CAD and will also clump up if she consumes too much mana-rich stuff or channels too much mana into her body, so she's primarily reliant on magic tools and then her schtappe to get anything done. there is no cure for mana clumps, so using magic without one will always be life threatening, as mana toxicity cannot be treated with mana-rich potions or mana-infused spells. if the mana clumps add up too much, she will have a heart attack.

i'm calling this medscholar AU atp because its what's diverged almost everything substantially

hard difficulty spike on everything by taking away myne's infinite money mana and healing

hard spike on worldbuilding so you can look forward to shit like this and i have 5 dictionaries open right now

most of part 1 is about developing an alphabet and deciding how myne is going to be trapped in either the temple or a noble contract after her baptism

part 2 she loses contact with everyone in the lower city because she enters as a grey priest. she becomes ferdinand's attendant and after learning the biblical language he allows her to become his pupil and eventually join noble society. meanwhile gilberta company develops paper based on a huge bundle of drawings and instructions myne left behind. bindewald happens then sylvester makes giebe illgner adopt her and makes a contract saying he'll take her on as a medscholar when she comes of age and can be put in charge of the printing industry.

part 3 elvira put in charge of the industry and the gang prints three whole books but in the process establishes good relations with liesegang after rozemyne invents chocolate and hartmut is introduced as is charlotte. wilfried is sent to the temple. georgine starts her scheming and plotting after someone sneaks through that veronica was imprisoned.

rozemyne enters the RA as hartmut's apprentice scholar, proving herself a star student and learning about the gods during which she starts to make contact with the gods, hartmut is taken on as charlotte's attendant on sylvester's orders. charlotte and sylvester's conflict starts to kick into high gear until charlotte snaps and contacts georgine who starts doing her thing. wilfried and gil start agitating for the rights of priests/shrine maidens. rozemyne becomes increasingly aware of the situation the royal family is in and wonders if a revolution is on the horizon. sylvester demands to know the details, hears about a world without feudalism, and after a very messy arc he decides to look into that, as well as start to try and rescue his daughter from georgine's faction. also rozemyne's like going to school and stuff, taking the scholar course, meeting the characters, participating in shenanigans. all goes wrong when hartmut is forced into a marriage with detlinde and rozemyne's shipped off to ahrensbach with him.

or does it? hartmut makes contact with lanzenave and discovers that they overthrew their colonial royal family and now have rebuilt enough that they could potentially afford another war. they're playing with fire, but they have no idea when an opportunity like a zent without a grutrissheit directly after a civil war that means population and mana are at an all-time low might come again. despite georgine's schemes and plots, after she's finally thwarted and sylvester is forced to kill her, with the combined might of the gods and idk put interesting tactics here they eventually pull it off in a climactic battle where they fight both dunkelfelger and the sovereign knight's order. then they abolish the monarchy and institute a democratic centralist party and sylvester turns directly to the screen to criticize feudalism as a system just to be safe

[waltwhitmansbeard]

chapter eight

Three days after her Westruun trip, Keyleth returns home in the evening at the end of a marathon of meetings to find her father waiting outside. This is hardly unusual; Korrin is almost always hovering somewhere near the door, trying not to seem like he’s worrying. Tonight, though, he’s got a funny look on his face, the kind that suggests a conversation needs to be had before going inside. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says unconvincingly. “It’s not bad. I mean, I don’t think it’s bad.”

“Oh gods.” Keyleth pushes inside, where she’s greeted by the distant, unmistakable sounds of arcane magic from somewhere up above. 

“We probably should have asked first!” Korrin calls after her as she scurries as fast as her wobbling legs will take her upstairs. It’s not hard to follow the low bangs and shuffling all the way toward her bedroom, or rather, the room next to it, which she opens hesitantly. 

“No, not yet!”

But it’s too late. Keyleth stands in the doorway, staring at Gilmore with a slack jaw. He’s frozen in the middle of the room, the setting sun illuminating him from behind like a halo, his usual purple robes rolled up to the elbow and his beringed fingers waggling in the air as he levitates an ornate rocking chair near the window. He grins sheepishly. “Surprise?”

The room is…transformed. Keyleth’s known for some time now that this is the room she’ll be using for a nursery, given that it’s right next door to her own, but she’s been putting off actually doing anything with it, given the general state of her life. Now, instead of bare walls and a plain wood floor, the room has come alive, with vines climbing up toward the ceiling in swirling patterns and thick, mossy rugs of every shade of green and furniture, which, she admits, is probably important. A crib of white oak and a matching armoire in the corner, each hand-carved with intricate botanical patterns and the symbol of the Ashari—the aforementioned rocking chair, plushly padded and now magically rocking on its own—a pair of raw wood shelves laden with children’s books in several languages, including Celestial, which she has to imagine comes from Percy—a changing table exactly the right height for Keyleth, with a mysterious door in the side—hanging from the ceiling, just above the crib, a delicate mobile of black birds that circle round and round by either mechanical or arcane means, she can’t be sure. 

Her throat is instantly thick. The room is beautiful, absolutely stunning, full of life and light and joy. The more her eyes roam around, the more details she spies that nearly take her out at the knees. The stuffed bear in the crib, covered in tiny pink bows. The toy lute tucked among the books. The blanket draped over the back of the rocking chair, embroidered with the sprawling branches of the Sun Tree. A bouquet of snowdrops on a side table in a water jug that looks remarkably like the one Grog liked to eat mayonnaise from. A miniature golden robot, quill in hand, on a shelf. The small wooden raven perched at the head of the crib, its long beak curving down in stoic watch over the bed inside. 

Gilmore crosses over and gently hooks his arm in hers to pull her inside. “I didn’t get the chance to catch up while you were in Westruun, but that’s fine, because it gave me the opportunity to do this.”

“Gil…” she chokes out, nose snotty and eyes wet. “It’s…it’s just…”

He pats her arm. “Let me give you a tour.”

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[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 4

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the 'lost' daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700​, @jinlizz-dragondrama​, @firelightinferno​, @bubbleyukismile, @coopsgirl​, @achromaticerebus​, @sleepyamygdala​ 

Thranduil caught up easily to the rest of his company and the group came to a sudden halt in a clearing. Thranduil lifted his chin, his gaze darkening as he took in the sight before him.

She stood there in the middle of the clearing. The Enchantress. She stood tall, clad all in black, a long smooth staff of walnut wood clutched in her right hand. Subtle glittering gems were woven through her long black hair. She was staring at the top of the staff in her hand as if it were far more intriguing than the ten elven soldiers who had appeared before her with their king.

Thranduil, however, was not fooled one bit by her little show.

“Did you know?” Her voice was soft, melodic. Mere mortals had fallen for her charms many times over, for the Enchantress was pleasing to the eye and could sound like a simple, innocent woman. If you did not know her, you would easily fall victim to her allure. It was, after all, how she managed to get so much of what she wanted - and how she had survived this long, other than the power she held within her. “That the walnut tree is often associated with the element of fire?” She shook her head as if stunned by the fact, as she examined her staff of walnut wood.

It was quite obviously a threat and a very thinly veiled one at that.

“Enough.” Thranduil’s voice boomed across the clearing, only barely holding back a roll of his eyes. “If you have come here to set the wood aflame, you already know you will not leave it with your head still attached to your wretched body.”

The Enchantress’ attention flickered to the king, her gaze narrowing as she looked upon him. “Lord Thranduil.” She sneered, mock bowing before him, though she never broke eye contact and she barely dipped at all. "How is your father?" She asked before lifting a delicate hand to her mouth as if shocked at a sudden remembrance. "Oh! That's right..."

Thranduil merely straightened his shoulders, puffing out his chest slightly as he glared back at her. “You are not allowed to be here.” His voice was dangerously soft.

She smiled softly at him, though her eyes were practically on fire as her stare bore into him. Thranduil stared back, unperturbed even as a couple of his shoulders shifted beneath the weight that had settled upon the clearing.

"Well!" She shook her head, acting quite affronted. "It would seem I am unwelcome! Can a lady not wander such magnificent woods for the beauty of them? What is the world coming to..."

"A lady may." Thranduil retorted, his thoughts drifting of their own accord to you, the strange yet enchanting maiden he had found living under the radar somewhere in his forest. "Yet there is not one here before us."

The Enchantress only allowed a brief glimmer of the rage that shot through her at his words to make itself known, her eyes flashing as she looked at him, quickly covering it with a melodious laugh. "Oh, great king, how very like your father you have become."

Thranduil let none of his anger show upon his face. He would not give her the satisfaction. She was so obviously bringing up his father to get a reaction. To pain him. Which it did... but he would not let her see it.

Thranduil had only been a young elf at the time but he remembered her. He remembered that day in Lindon...

"You have five seconds to rid my wood of your presence or I shall do it for you."

She blinked back at him, lifting her chin and making no move to leave as she stared at the king, mocking him with her defiance.

"Mîn." One.

Nothing.

"Tâd." Two.

Nothing.

"Nêl." Three.

Still, she stood, like a statue, her gaze fixed upon Thranduil. It did not show upon her face but in her mind she was going over how very satisfying it would be to send him to meet his loathsome parents.

One problem at a time, though. She couldn't start an all out war with the wood elves. She had to search this forest. How they had even known she set foot here was quite beyond her at the moment.

"Canad." Four.

Thranduil then directed his words to his soldiers. "Ready your arrows!"

The elven soldiers all prepared their bows, reaching for their arrows and nocking them into the strings as they prepared to fire upon the Enchantress. She did not flinch, which unnerved a couple of the soldiers, though they did not yield.

"Leben!” Five!

Just as the arrows flew, there was a sudden rolling cloud of black smoke and the very air around them seemed to take on a heavy weight. Thranduil turned his head, quite stunned by the smoke's rapid appearance as if from nowhere. When he turned his head again the smoke cleared and she was gone. The arrows all lay in a pile upon the grass.

Anger bubbled in him once more as, for a long moment, he just stared at the space where she had stood only seconds before.

"My King?" Feren's voice was the first to reach him, rousing him from his half-trance.

He turned and nodded. "She is gone." He scanned the woods around them, gritting his teeth. "For now." Thranduil turned his elk around and shook his head, flicking his hand out. "We ride back."

Radagast had left the cottage not too long after you had woken up. He said it was very important wizard business that you did not need to know about and that you were to stay inside until he returned, no matter what.

He had hurried after the elves, in case he could have been of some use, but unfortunately he arrived a little too late.

Thranduil slowed his mount down as he neared Radagast. He looked over the wizard's rabbits with a slightly amused expression before he turned his attention back to Radagast, not bothering to hide his weariness.

"Well? Is she gone?" Radagast asked, urging Thranduil for some answers and quickly.

The king nodded as he gestured for his men, who had stopped when he did, to go in ahead of him. "Yes. For now. But we both know she will return." He frowned down at the wizard from his elk and shook his head. "I do not understand what she is doing here."

Radagast shifted rather uncomfortably, his thoughts flashing between you and that fateful day so many years ago. He only shrugged. “You didn’t ask her?"

Thranduil rolled his eyes. "She hardly would have told me if I had." He insisted. "All she wanted to do was make remarks about my father." Thranduil detested how his voice wavered on the word father.

Radagast, whose eyes had been roving through the trees around them, looked back up at Thranduil then. The wizard was frowning and his expression had a sorrow in it that made Thranduil roll his eyes again.

"I am fine."

"It was a long time ago, Thranduil, but you were very young and--"

Thranduil held up a hand then. "Enough. Please, enough. The princess is dead, I barely knew her." They both knew it was not only the princess Radagast spoke of but neither said as much.

"You watched her die." Radagast said quietly, looking at Thranduil sadly. Thranduil didn’t know whether he was speaking of Gil-Galad’s daughter... or of Thranduil’s own mother, and the king did not ask. Nor did he answer, sitting in complete silence.

Radagast found then that he wished he could tell him. He wished he could tell Thranduil that he had an elleth living with him and that she was actually the princess, that she had not perished but been hidden away for her own safety. "It is not--”

"Enough!"

Radagast wilted a little and Thranduil almost felt bad but he reminded himself that he couldn't live in the past... even as flickers of the Enchantress murdering the babe, her mother, and his own flashed through his mind.

"I have work to do." He muttered, tugging gently at the reins of his elk. "If she comes back, I will inform you and I expect you to do the same."

Then he was gone.

"Can I go?" You asked for the fifteenth time that afternoon.

Radagast gave you a look that you had long since given up attempting to decipher. "I just don't think it wise. Maybe tomorrow."

"Oh, please! I promise, I will not stay out like I did yesterday. I mean it, I swear!"

Radagast hesitated. He felt uncomfortable, to put it lightly, at the thought of letting you go traipsing off into the forest on your own so soon after the Enchantress herself had been seen beneath these very trees - albeit near the outskirts.

Truthfully, he was awfully rattled by the whole thing. Why had she come? When would she return? He had already sent a message to Gandalf but with the way that wizard wandered, he was afraid the poor bird he'd sent wouldn't find him any time soon.

"Alright, now listen-" Radagast started as he turned to face you. Your face had already lit up and, as he looked at you, he knew be wouldn't be able to change his mind. "You can go-"

"Yes!"

"-but." The wizard gave you a pointed look. "You must take the bow with you and you must return an hour before you normally would."

With a squeal you threw your arms around the wizard. "Thank you, thank you!" You knew you would have lost your mind sitting in her all day. Even just sitting out in the front of the cottage wouldn't have been far enough.

You kissed Radagast twice on both cheeks, grabbed the bow and arrows from by the front door, and then scurried away into the afternoon, leaving the wizard fondly shaking his head after you.

At the same time you left the cottage, Thranduil had once more mounted his elk and gone back into the forest. He hadn't been able to switch his mind off after the encounters with both the Enchantress and Radagast, which meant he got absolutely no work done.

His thoughts had been consumed by the past and, while some would say it was only to be expected, the unbidden thoughts were outside of Thranduil's control and therefore made him feel weak... which in turn caused his temper to rise. Shouting at a poor, unsuspecting guard for asking a simple question had been the last straw.

The elk moved easily beneath the trees. It knew this forest well enough for its master to sit upon its back and not have any need to direct it. Thranduil was far away, though he tried not to drift too deep into the back of his own mind.

The sound of soft singing pulled him from his reverie and he finally blinked and looked back up, surprised. The elk sniffed and shook its head when Thranduil tapped it gently on the head. “Sneaky.” He muttered as the animal stepped into the clearing and he dismounted.

Unlike yesterday, you were much more focused and you immediately turned when you heard the animal enter the clearing, watching as Thranduil dismounted the beast and turned to look at you.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you again quite so soon.” You told him, giving him an amused look that made him chuckle despite his mood.

“Yes, well. I believe-” He said, turning to look at the elk beside him with narrowed eyes. “-that somebody missed you.”

He watched you move over to the animal with no hesitancy, hand reaching out immediately to pet them as a soft rush of endearments left your lips, and he felt his heart soften.

[beachyserasims]

Geneva Island Legacy┃Chapter three┃A Chance

~ Transcript ~

Beginning / Previous / Next

[grey-gazania]

I'm sorry someone bombarded you with bitchy comments 😭. While my To Read list is lengthy and continually lengthier (actually I think something of yours with her is on it), I'd like to hear more about Ianneth-Fingon-Maedhros if you want to talk about them.

@polutrope

It wasn't really upsetting, just annoying and honestly a little bit funny. This guy left comments on all six chapters of By Love or at Least Free Will, every time I updated the story, just objecting to the entire premise of the story and ranting about how Elves have incorruptible pure souls and are immune to lust. I was sorely tempted to respond with this quote from "Laws & Customs Among the Eldar":

Even when in after days, as the histories reveal, many of the Eldar in Middle-earth became corrupted, and their hearts darkened by the shadow that lies upon Arda, seldom is any tale told of deeds of lust among them.

'Seldom' is not the same thing as 'never', and furthermore, I don't think lust is even a major theme of my story. It's more about conflicting obligations and unruly hearts.

In the end I deleted the comments without responding, because I have a personal policy of not engaging with people who are acting in bad faith. But I have to assume that this guy has no actual hobbies if he spends his time hate-reading entire stories instead of just...closing the window and moving on with his life. Maybe take up crochet, bro? Or volunteer at a soup kitchen? Watch a TV show that you like? Grow some tomatoes? Do something that will be more fulfilling than typing long screeds on AO3. I promise it will make you a happier person.

Anyway. On to the actual topic of your ask! As you've probably noticed, I am very fond of Russingon. However, I am also very fond of Fingon as Gil-galad's father. At first I balanced these two ideas by keeping my Russingon ideas and my Fingon-father-of-Gil-galad ideas in two separate universes, but then I started really fleshing out Gil-galad's mother, and it made me think some thoughts. To repeat something I said to @cuarthol in a comment on AO3:

...half the genesis of Ianneth was seeing so many stories (in multiple fandoms, not just Tolkien) where the woman is written out of a canon or semi-canon couple to make room for a popular M/M ship instead, without the female character being treated with any respect. I decided that the female perspective on that situation would be a nice change of pace and interesting to write.

I'm not trying to point fingers -- I'll readily admit that I have my male faves just like the next gal and that it's fun to make them kiss -- but the wives and girlfriends don't get a lot of love in fandom, do they? And it doesn't help that the legendarium in general tends to be a bit of a sausage fest. So I decided that Fingon would have a wife and be in love with Maedhros. But instead of focusing just on the forbidden love, I was going to focus on the wife's feelings, too.

Ianneth ("bridge-woman") is one of the Northern Sindar, from the community that lives around Lake Mithrim. She's the daughter of Annael (yes, that Annael), whom I've imagined to be one of the more influential leaders among the Northern Sindar, and particularly among the Elves of Mithrim.

Her betrothal to Fingon starts as a political arrangement. Fingolfin loves Fingon dearly, of course, but he's also been hinting for a while now that Fingon really needs to settle down and start having kids so that there will be a strong line of heirs should Fingolfin die. After all, Argon's dead, and Turgon and Aredhel abruptly fucked off to god-knows-where some three hundred years ago and haven't been seen nor heard from since. Your dad needs some grandsons, Fingon, and this also seems like a ripe opportunity to strengthen the Noldor's alliance with the Northern Sindar.

I don't think political marriage is unknown among the Elves of Beleriand. (For one example in the text, see Celegorm trying to marry Luthien to force Doriath into an alliance.) And the quote I drew the title of the aforementioned Fingon/Ianneth story from, also found in "Laws and Customs Among the Eldar," is:

The Eldar wedded only once in life, and for love or at the least by free will upon either part.

Free will could easily mean, "Are we in love? No. But I'll still marry you, for the good of our peoples, and I'll bring some of Dad's soldiers along with me." That sort of thing happened all the time among real-world nobility, so I see no reason why it can't happen among Elven nobility in Beleriand, too.

At any rate, Fingolfin arranges for Fingon to meet the daughters of some of the more powerful leaders of the Northern Sindar, and he's hint-hint-hinting that Fingon really needs to pick one of them to be his wife. Fingon, having been in love with Maedhros since they were young in Valinor, is not exactly keen on this plan. But he goes along with it anyway because he is a dutiful son, he knows that his father is right about needing to strengthen the line of succession, and he also knows that revealing his (quite taboo!) relationship with Maedhros to his father would probably break Fingolfin's heart.

It takes Fingon a while to decide who to court, but he picks Ianneth because he likes her sense of humor; she has the guts to gently tease him at their first meeting, which he finds quite charming. He doesn't think he can love anyone besides Maedhros, but he does look at Ianneth and think, "This is a woman I could grow to care for and whose companionship I think could enjoy."

The trouble begins when, over the course of their courtship, Fingon starts falling in love with Ianneth without falling out of love with Maedhros. And he doesn't know what to do about this. He can't call off the marriage, and he doesn't want to break things off with Maedhros, so he decides to just...keep the whole thing with Maedhros a secret and marry Ianneth anyway. It's not a good decision, but really, are there any options here that won't end with someone getting hurt? I don't think so.

So we have Ianneth, blissfully ignorant of her husband's infidelity (for now); Fingon, in love with two people at once and feeling horribly guilty about it, but unwilling to pick one partner over the other; and Maedhros, resigned to the situation but still hurting because Fingon is no longer his alone.

Maedhros' feelings are complicated by the fact that, once he meets her, he finds that likes Ianneth. It would be easier, he thinks, if he could write her off as just a political necessity for Fingon, but it turns out that she's charming and intelligent and kind, and he can understand why Fingon loves her. His feelings soften further once Ereiniel is born, because Fingon is so happy being a father, and he loves Fingon, so how can he begrudge him that? There's a line from "Famous Blue Raincoat" by Leonard Cohen that I always think of when I'm getting into Maedhros' head at this point:

And thanks for the trouble you took from [his] eyes. I thought it was there for good, so I never tried.

Things tick along about as smoothly as they can for thirteen years, until, in the aftermath of Fingolfin's death during the Dagor Bragollach, as Fingon prepares to send Ianneth and Ereiniel to the Falas for their safety, Ianneth learns his secret. This is understandably devastating for her, and leaves her wondering if Fingon ever really loved her as she loved him, or if his marriage to her was simply a politically expedient sham.

Add to that the fact that she leaves for the Falas less than ten hours after this revelation and spends most of that ten hours either crying or asleep, as she's too upset to really talk to Fingon about what she's discovered, and it leaves her with this horrible knowledge and all the worst thoughts that come from it gnawing at her nearly a full year until Fingon next comes to Eglarest -- time that she spends as the sole caregiver for her young daughter, among strangers in a foreign city, without her mother or her sister or any of her friends who might have theoretically been able to offer her some emotional support.

Theoretically is a key word there, though, because even if, say, her sister had come to Eglarest, Ianneth isn't sure she'd even be able to tell her. For one thing, she can't help feeling ashamed, because infidelity is very rare among Elves, and she can't help thinking that maybe she failed as a wife somehow, and if she'd done something different, Fingon wouldn't have strayed. Then there's the fact that he's the High King of the Noldor, and if this gets out it could cause a crisis in the Noldorin government and possibly tank the alliance between the House of Fingolfin and the Northern Sindar. Ianneth is a practical woman, and she's of the Northern Sindar -- the people who have been living practically on Morgoth's doorstep for centuries, with no Maia queen's magic girdle to protect them. Their alliance with the Noldor is vital, and she would never want to jeopardize it.

So Ianneth is just...completely alone with this pain. She has no one to turn to, no one who can comfort her. And that pain is central to her story, and a not insignificant part of Ereiniel's story, too.

[myreia]

Desiderium

CHAPTER TWO: PROMENADE

Chapter Rating: Mature (full story Explicit) Characters: Aureia Malathar (WoL), Thancred Waters Pairings: Aureia/Thancred Chapter Words: 2,426 Notes: Set during early Endwalker, spoilers for the start of the expac. Summary: After arriving in Old Sharlayan, Aureia wants to see Thancred’s old haunts. He could not be happier to oblige, but his thoughts are occupied by something else entirely. Prompt: ii. hands | blush Chapters: one • two • three • four • five Read on AO3

The snow falls in earnest as they wind their way through the streets, the tall, marbled domes and columns white against the darkened sky. The more she sees, the more confused she is. It doesn’t feel right, this place—a city built of angles and symmetry and mathematical precision, as if it were from a different era, a different age. Its wide plazas and elegant fountains are more suited for a land of temperate weather like Terncliff, not the cold of the far north.

“Did you enjoy your sightseeing today?” he asks. “I’m sure Krile and G’raha were ecstatic to show you the sights.”

“I think I have found my bearings, yes,” she replies. “I didn’t expect to enjoy visiting the Studium, but it was worth it to see Alphinaud get swarmed. Quite the little celebrity, that one.”

“You shouldn’t tease the boy.”

“But he makes it so easy—”

“I think he has become the butt of a joke too many.”

“Alisaie agrees with me.”

“Alisaie is his sister. Of course she agrees with you.”

She blows out a puff of air in mock irritation and takes stock of their surroundings. They’ve climbed higher now and the city stretches out below them, the harbour transitioning into the Agora with precise fluidity. She squints, wondering if she can pick out Urianger’s familiar form walking about somewhere below. “It was good,” she says after a moment. “Hearing the stories, learning about everyone’s favourite haunts… I’d love to see more of them.”

She trails off, her tone more somber than intended. It used to bother her—years ago, when she first joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn—that her companions were all united not only by their common goals, but by virtue of being Sharlayan. The one thing she couldn’t share in. Now she is here, of course she is reminded of that.

He squeezes her hand.

“It’s nice, I suppose,” she continues. “How recognizable everyone is. I’m glad they’ve been able to reconnect, truly.”

“Aye. But…?”

She shrugs. “It’s not important. I was wondering… Y’shtola and G’raha and even Urianger have been recognized right away. But you haven’t.”

“Ah. But I have.”

“When?”

“You haven’t been paying attention—”

She makes a face.

“—or you haven’t known what to look for. You do recall what I am an Archon of?”

“Even if I happened to forget—an impossibility at this point—you would remind me.”

“My master’s pupils will have no doubt spotted me immediately, even if they have not made their presence known. I am sure I will hear from them when they are ready. Or if I choose to seek them out myself.”

“Your master?”

“The man who taught me everything I know. Louisoix left me in his care.”

“I see.” This is the first she is hearing of it. Alphinaud and Alisaie’s grandfather was a great man, of that she has no doubt, but even great men have their flaws. Thancred still considers him his mentor, but to know that he was plucked from Limsa Lominsa, taken to another city and unloaded onto another… She isn’t sure how she feels about it. The topic of Louisoix is already difficult to broach, and a part of Thancred still idolizes him. They may never be ready to discuss him honestly. “Do you… want to see him?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Of course! Whyever would I not?”

“I don’t know, you’ve never spoken of him. I was imagining someone like Matoya.”

“Seven hells, no. No one is like Matoya save Matoya herself—though I imagine Y’shtola may give her a run for her gil when she reaches the appropriate age. No, my master… He’s reclusive. Never been one to express himself well in person, especially when it comes to heartfelt sentiments. No doubt he knows I am here, but should I wish to see him I will have to solve a manner of riddles or some other nonsense to uncover a letter before he vanishes into the night. Though you should know he’s been known to disguise himself as everything from a gleaner to a painter to mysterious maidens. Any person we pass could be him and we would never know it.”

She sighs heavily. “…why am I not surprised?”

They press on, wandering higher and higher. The crowds fade the further they walk, the paths emptying until they are well and truly alone. It seems at this time of evening the city finds itself either down by the harbour, in their homes, or at the Studium.

“I did a pass through the city while you were occupied,” Thancred says, his tone turning grim. “Strange to see it abuzz with news that is not what newfound artefacts of interest the gleaners have brought back or what research is being pioneered or what debates are fresh in the Rostra. I suppose it’s human nature for curiosity to be piqued by idle gossip, but there is far too much focus on the twins’ disownment for my liking.”

“You knew people would talk.”

“That is not what concerns me. It is the focus on this and only this. It shines too bright of a light on the twins, and with the twins in our company it will make our movements all the more challenging…” He lets out an irritated sigh. “Do not ask me to understand the mind of a man like Fourchenault—gods know I never have and I never will—but Twelve damn him for this. Damn the Forum and damn their absurdity.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I appreciate your optimism. One of us needs it.”

“And if we don’t, I’m sure I can come up with a few alternatives. How good are you at hiding bodies?”

He gives her a look. “Though I am inclined to agree with you, I certainly hope you are joking. You… are joking, yes?”

She pats his arm. “Don’t worry. I’m not contemplating murder. The assassination of a high-ranking member of a neutral nation is firmly off the table. Though I wouldn’t say no to punching that man in the face.”

“I assure you he deserves it. I’ve been itching to do the same since I was eight years old. Had a beautiful chance once but did not take it on account of not wanting to explain to Louisoix why the scrappy former street urchin was brawling with his delicate son.” He pauses, his lower lip curling. “What Ameliance sees in him I will never understand.”

Ameliance… The twins’ mother. She should have remembered that. Fourchenault mentioned her by name during their meeting in Gridania, but to Alphinaud and Alisaie she is simply called “Mother”. Admittedly, she is curious about her. The affection with which the twins discuss her rubs oddly against the way their father has treated them.

“What is she like?” she asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “Ameliance? A delight, if I’m quite honest. Bright and witty and fearlessly clever. I would caution getting on the wrong side of her.”

“Seems you admire her quite a bit.”

“I did. And I still do, I suppose.”

She chews her lower lip, admonishing herself for reading too much into the implications of that statement. Her mind is going places she would rather not think about. “I’ll look forward to an introduction—so long as Fourchenault doesn’t get in the way.”

“I doubt he will. Ameliance always was one to march to the beat of her own drum. If she wants to meet you, then meet you shall.”

They round a long walkway and cross a bridge, pausing at the apex. The river rushes below, its waters babbling in earnest as they flow out to sea.

“I forgot how long you’ve known him,” Aureia says after a moment. “Fourchenault, I mean.”

He chuckles. “Aye, most of my life, I suppose. I have never met a man so unlike his father. Then again, I am not the best candidate to judge, on account of never knowing mine.” His brow furrows, lost in thought. “Sharlayan will regard us in good favour while Krile’s ruse holds, but it may not last forever. Perhaps it is paranoid on my behalf, but until matters with the Forum are resolved, we are in enemy territory. Not everyone here is a friend, no matter how pleasant they are. And Sharlayan makes for a dangerous foe to have, even to its own kind.”

“I know.” She recalls Leveva Byrde and her grandfather, Mace, all too well—and how the latter was thrown in prison for departing the nation illegally.

“If this goes poorly… Y’shtola, Urianger, G’raha and I may be afforded some protection by virtue of our standing as Archons, but it will not extend to you and Estinien. Even if I declare you as my wife, you are not native here.”

“I can look after myself. And I would hardly worry about Estinien, do you really think Sharlayan can keep him grounded for more than a minute? The man can leap backwards out a window and land on his feet.”

“I am aware of that.” He exhales a sharp breath, disgruntled at her attempt at a joke. “Please understand I have cause for concern. G’raha and Y’shtola may be blinded by their invitations to browse the Noumenon once again, and Alphinaud and Alisaie are happy to be home despite the familial issues, but I am not so easily distracted. This may be home, but we cannot let down our guard. Do not underestimate how vicious the Sharlayans can be when given the chance. Stopping the Telophoroi is all that matters. We cannot allow politics and policy and godsdamned pride to interfere with that.”

He meets her eyes. There’s something boiling there—frustration borne from the fatiguing voyage, irritation with Sharlayan politics, his overprotective concern for her that has become second nature since she almost died of light-poisoning on the First. He has been so grounded since their marriage, casting off the shadow of the man he was before, that it has been a long time since she has sense the fury and bitterness that once encompassed him. But she sees it now—a flicker of it, simmering beneath the surface. His need to act now at odds with his orders to stay put and wait.

No wonder he wandered off to do reconnaissance in the city he knows inside and out. For the others, this is a homecoming. For him, this is just another job.

Aureia rests a hand against his cheek, refusing to look away. His frustration doesn’t intimidate her, she’s well-accustomed to it by now. And he is right, of course. She spent two moons preparing mentally for their arrival, only to have everything deflate the moment they stepped ashore and her first day here became a giddy sightseeing trip.

It wasn’t so long ago that the dark towers sprang up and they were fighting Lunar primals. To sit and wait, only to sit and wait some more is agonizing.

There is nothing she can say to soothe him, no words of wisdom she can offer. And so she kisses him, running her hands through his hair and hooking them around his neck as she pulls him into her. At the very least it can be a nice distraction, a way of diverting this anxious, pent-up energy from the voyage neither of them have been able to excise.

A hand presses against the small of her back. His lips part, hot and hungry, his kiss far fiercer than she would normally allow in public. Her breath hitches as his teeth scrape her lower lip, his tongue slipping into her mouth—he tastes of black tea, strong and bitter—and his hand moves further down her back, urgent and eager, as if he hasn’t kissed her in moons and he is desperate for relief. Which is true, in a way. The shared quarters on the ship meant they set aside certain activities for later.

Not a concern for her. If anything, she hardly gave it any thought, absorbed as she was in Alphinaud’s books and studying arcane theories. Some would consider their trip a dry spell, but such things have never bothered her. Sex is nice, but not a necessity. She could theoretically go through the rest of her life without it and be content.

But for him…  

The longing, the yearning, the frustration of certain needs not being met. For too long it has had nowhere to go. And now it needs to go somewhere.

She draws back, breathless and overwhelmed, and he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the hollow of her throat. “Thancred…”

He kisses her in answer, sucking roughly at her skin. She winces, a blush blooming on her cheeks, the kiss pleasantly hard—the kind that may leave a mark if he’s not careful.

She’ll find out in the morning.

A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat. “Gods, Aur,” he murmurs. “I…”

His hand brushes her ass and her eyes fly open. She blinks, taking stock of where they are standing—here, out in the open, on this empty bridge, just out of the haze of the lamplight—and moves his hand away.

“Save this for later, yes?” she murmurs. “When we’re not so public…”

He holds her close, gently kissing her forehead. “Aye. My apologies, I forgot myself for a moment.”

She catches his eye and clears her throat. “You know,” she begins, slipping her hand into his. “I’m more than open to the idea of you forgetting yourself from time to time.”

“Is that so?”

“Two moons aboard a ship have done no one any favours. I for one am glad to no longer be sharing a cabin with Y’shtola and Urianger.”

“Aureia—”

“There’s time before we reconvene. I suppose we could even be late, if we wanted to. Y’shtola and G’raha certainly will be, though I suspect a date with dusty tomes is not as satisfying as a date with—”

He gives her a flat look, cutting her off. “You’re incorrigible when you want to be, you do know that, yes?”

She smirks. “I know.”

Thancred presses a hand to her face, his fingers trailing gently along her jaw to cup her chin. He tilts her head up, his gaze trained on hers, any irritation or frustration melted away at the promise of these new prospects.

“Come with me,” he says, his voice low. “You wanted to see our old haunts? Let me show you mine.”

A/N: Thancred’s ruminations on his Sharlayan mentor are inspired by an interesting little side quest you can pick up in Old Sharlayan. Following the right clues and figuring out the puzzle earns you a letter from his mentor and a couple other rewards. I didn’t know that messing with a random box on a bench was going to lead me to Thancred lore at the time, but I find it very funny that it did.

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Make Me Write

Tagged by the wonderful @snowviolettwhite! ❤

Rules: Send me an emoji corresponding to the wip and I'll write three sentences per emoji. I'll share some of what I wrote.

🥺 - There'll be Peace When you are Done (classifications AU set in early S13 of SPN where Sam discovers Jack is a Little)

🩵 - Little!Jeremy Oneshot (Jeremy gets in trouble for over-drinking and gets a spanking by Damon)

😢 - A Bright Life (a chapter 2 of "Urgent Care" where Gil has to deal with a fussy Malcolm in the wee hours of the morning after the 1st chapter)

😭 - PSON Agere: The Slap Incident (the aftermath of Jessica slapping Malcolm but with an agere twist)

😵‍💫 - Little!Nick Oneshot (Nick is sick with food poisoning and Monroe and Rosalee take care of him)

❤️‍🩹 - Walk on With Hope in Your Heart (the second chapter where Malcolm and Gil going home from the hospital)

🫣 - Matt's Pull-Up Troubles (Matt Murdock struggles with the idea of wearing pull-ups while in headspace)

🤗 - Little!Hughie Oneshot (Hughie has a little too much fun with stickers)

😜 - Giles x Buffy Smut (some wetting desperation and sub/dom fun)

🖤 - Black Butler: Book of Regression (the ninth chapter where the aftermath of Ciel's recent trauma is dealt with)

🍑 - PSON: Co-Parenting Spanking (Jessica and Gil spank Malcolm after the coke incident)

😰 - Little!Ellie Oneshot (Ellie gets appendicitis)

☹️ - Little!Damon Oneshot (Alaric comes home to find Damon binge drinking in the dark after his break up with Elena)

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @thegoeticcleric, @phantomhiveroyaltea, @anewkindofme, @actualalligator, @pimento-playing-hopscotch, @nottapossum, @autisticalastor and anyone else who wants to join!

[triptychgrip]

Longfic Impostor Syndrome

I've heard other writers talk about experiencing major impostor syndrome creep in as they get close to finishing their longfics, and it's really been doing a number on me the past two months.

At this point, I'm just four chapters away from completing part 1 of my Yuri!!! on Ice 2018/2022 Olympic Games fic series, and though there have definitely been periods of motivation loss and doubt throughout the time that I've written and posted my 212K WIP, these last two months have definitely been the most trying in my creative process.

I think it makes sense though, when I stop to think about it: I am coming up on ending something that I've had in my life -- whether that was in my mind or on the page, amidst the outlining process or actual writing process -- for three years, and there is a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me that I won't be able to do justice to the vision I have for where I'll wrap things up. I don't really have any revelatory aha! discoveries to share in terms of how to get over this doubtfulness, but I will say that as trite as it sounds, taking a break to regain perspective and working on other things really did help me. Last week, I was able to publish something much more condensed, and, not to mention, with a completely different tone than where I left things off in my WIP, and the resulting story is something that I'm really proud of.

In any event, I've been able to get back into the zone to pick back up on my longfic, and wanted to share a preview, below. This is from Chapter 19, set on the day of the Beijing 2022 Games Free Skate, and told in part from Yurio's POV, as well as Seung-Gil's POV. I won't give away spoilers for the major event that occurred in Chapter 18, but needless to say, there is some major fallout for Yuuri, Yurio, and others to have to contend with in this chapter.

In particular, Chapter 19 gives me the opportunity to showcase how Yurio's attitude towards Yuuri's anxiety has changed over the years, and it's exciting to get to ideate around how he might have developed more compassion and understanding around mental health and the pressures Yuuri must deal with, especially given the politically charged nature of these particular Olympic Games. If you've been keeping up with the story and remember how I detailed Yurio's own struggle prior to the PyeongChang Games back in Chapter 13, it's a bit of a full-circle situation.

[thescrapwitch]

Give me backstory on your longest currently in progress (meaning you have actively worked on it in, say, the last two weeks) fic!

Thank you for the ask!

For this, I'm going to talk about Reforged, since its the one I literally just posted a new chapter for. Be warned, this is gonna be long:

I had no strong feelings towards Maeglin at the beginning of this fic. But Celebrimbor is one of my favorite Silmarillion characters, and there are so many interesting parallels between the two. Father issues, smiths, a connection with Sauron/Morgoth, the downfall of a shining kingdom (Gondolin for Maeglin, Eregion for Celebrimbor). I started to wonder what it would look like if Maeglin had lived and they had met. At the time when I started writing, there were a few fics that explored the idea (shout out to Don’t Carry It All by @aipilosse which I really love; it's a great fic everyone go read it) but I wanted more.

My goal, then, was to write the sort of Maeglin Lives-Redemption AU that I wanted to read. One that focused on him making amends for what he'd done, the impact of Celebrimbor's friendship in remaking his life, and what to do when the pieces of that newfound happiness shattered again. So I scribbled down an outline for a one-shot. I know, I say it every time I talk about a longfic, but that’s because I like writing one-shots. You get the story done and posted and then you don’t need to worry about it anymore. I thought this would just be the greatest hits of Maeglin and Celebrimbor’s friendship from the end of the First Age to the end of the Third. I knew the beginning (being taken in by Celebrimbor), how things would get worse (ie: a certain banner), the climax (a scene that I cannot talk about yet but am EXTREMELY eager to write), and the ending (which will be happy, I promise). Quick, easy, no longer than 5,000 words.

(Reforged is now over 73,000 words and still going.)

At the time when I started it, I had also recently finished After Sappho by Selby Wynn Schwartz, which is now in my top five favorite books of all time (READ IT, ITS SO GOOD!). I adore it, and part of the reason I love it so much is its structure. The book is made up of fragments, small moments of the characters' lives that span through years and years of history. So much is said and explored through those small scenes, and I wanted to try and do something similar.

(I am obsessed with story structure. Absolutely obsessed. One of my favorite things about books and writing is taking apart the bones of how a story is laid out. Its fascinating to me and I’m constantly looking for books that try something different with it)

The title “reforged” refers both to Maeglin remaking his life from the pieces it's been left in, as well as his craft as a smith. This structure, therefore, fit the theme of the story, its fragmented scenes coming together to create a whole tale. It also took a lot of pressure off of me for writing! I gave myself permission not to stress over transitions, or to show events in different ways: letters, one-sided conversations with statues, etc. It helps so much when I am stuck that I can use one of those ways to approach the scene from a different angle (especially since it covers SO. MUCH. HISTORY).

I also need to shout-out The Harrowing by @chthonion (again, very good fic go read!) which I had also been reading at the time I started and which has altered how I view conflict within stories. It inspired me to really look at how I was presenting the different people in Maeglin's life, to let them be very complicated and tangled as they all tried to make their way through history (such as Eöl or Gil-Galad's anger with the Fëanorians or Maeglin and the surviving Gondolindrim).

And that's how Reforged came to be! Currently, it is the longest fic on my AO3, though there's now only three (!) chapters left. I am very grateful for all the kudos and comments I've gotten on it (especially for Chapter 10 - those screams made my MONTH).

And thank you again for the ask and letting me ramble about my fic! ❤️❤️❤️