#sorry for the eol thing

[superloves4]

We can always begin again - Chapter 1

Relationships: Celegorm/Aredhel, Curufin/Finrod (background) Summary: Celegorm didn't think he'd be granted mercy, that he'd be re-embodied or that he'd be welcome anywhere. Aredhel thought she'd never welcome him again after what he'd done. They were never good at staying away from each other. TW: none for this chapter but a warning: this is mostly canon compliant Celegorm, for what this fic is supposed to be this means Eol won't be beyond salvation (he is in only one chapter briefly but I felt this needed to be said) (Not to worry tho, I have another aretyel fic in the works where Eol is just the worst) A/N: Enjoy!

Also on AO3

Tyelkormo Fëanorion didn't know how long it had been since he'd seen the sun. He didn't even think he'd be given a chance to see it again, a permanent residence in the Halls would have been mercy compared to what he had bound to his soul, turns out mercy, as some would call it, tasted of ash and poison. It hurt his eyes.

He breathed in then held his breath.

It was a cacophony of senses he no longer was familiar with and he just needed another minute. If he was free of Mandos then he could be granted that, it was the most humble request he'd ever made.

"I don't believe they shall let you back in, brother"

Tyelko opened his eyes to watch as Curufin prepared his oh, so kindly, allowed horse. He was rather happy to have the company, the twins and Caranthir had been released before him, it was nice to not be left alone now.

"What a shame," he shrugged, if somebody saw him now they'd almost believe it "I'm convinced we truly were close to send dear Mandos to retirement."

"And have to do his job? Rather dreary don't you think?" Curufin managed a smile back.

"On the contrary, after everything that happened I find it rather fitting."

It was a voice Tyelko was not expecting, in fact he was not expecting anyone, he figured even his brothers would rather steer away from him after Doriath, instead he could now see his mother approaching on the horse he could remember so clearly from childhood, and the one who spoke...

"Irìssë!"

She was there, black hair to the wind and dressed in all white, it was like nothing had changed, that she was about to call him to a hunt and then to camp in the wild, he'd tell her what story the birds were telling that morning and everything would be just right. He ran to her, he needed to feel she was real.

"Don't touch me!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, because this was Irìssë, this was his best friend, he had felt so hollow when he discovered her death, so why? Why did she back away from him, her face a mix of fear and hate.

He felt Curufin's hand on his shoulder and looked at him, but his brother only shook his head. It frustrated him, he didn't want to be told that thing were different, he was alive, he wanted to feel alive now. He pushed Curufin's hand away, looking to the ground instead.

"Are you still sure you want to be here?" he heard his mother ask Irìssë.

"Yes," she said back "Yes, I'm just not ready for that yet."

He nodded, it wasn't directed at him exactly but he knew what it meant.

"Irìssë, I-" Curufin tried to say but she quickly interrupted.

"There is no need," she answered but seemed to be eager to end the conversation instead "It's in the past now, I don't need any explanation."

Tyelko felt he disagreed but it didn't seem that anything he said would be useful so he decided to be silent instead and let things change. It had been what he'd searched for so long, why did it felt so wrong now?

They had been riding for at least an hour before his mother decided to break the silence.

"I am to make you two aware that you, in specific, are forbidden from Tirion Palace," she told them, it was rather curt but they supposed it was to be expected "You may choose one of the accommodations for the returned or," she took a breath and for the first time in that hour, they heard their mother "Or you are free to come home with me."

It was more than Tyelko expected, but then again, if freedom was the confines of Formenos then he'd much rather go back to Mandos, spirits could not feel real boredom.

"Findaràto is crown prince." Curufin hummed and Tyelko felt ashamed of his earlier rejection, he didn't think his brother would accept his support as it was now.

Nerdanel nodded "I have good reasons to believe that Ëarwen might build dungeons just for you if you attempt to enter."

If it was supposed to be a joke, it was a poor one indeed. But the chill was slowly leaving her voice and Tyelko could be grateful for that.

"What about you?" he couldn't keep himself from asking, Tyelko genuinely hadn't meant to sound so resentful, but the damage was done already "What have you come to tell us?"

Irìssë gave him a look that reminded him how cold she could be since the Helcaraxë, it was vague and he couldn't tell what she was thinking, she was right there and most distant than ever, before turning back to the road.

"I am here for the same reason as aunt Nerdanel," she said "To offer my home."

"What?!"

She'd been so distant he had expected for the journey to end in her telling him that from that moment on they had nothing to share anymore, that their great friendship would finally find its conclusion. She was free.

Instead...

"If you so wish," she said, her voice still on that bitter edge "You two are welcome to stay with me and my son in our cabin."

That was a surprise for both of them, they really didn't think anyone would welcome them back, let alone offer their house.

"No," was Curufin reply "With all of my respect, Irìssë, mother, but I wish to be alone for now."

Tyelpë. The reason went unspoken.

"And you?" Nerdanel asked her third child.

"I-" Tyelko looked at the two women in front of him, his mother was giving him a simple solution that was much better than the small house away from everyone he thought was in his future. It was the correct option, to stay in Formenos, rust away there, but he had always been selfish and he wanted some closure.

So he spurred his horse forward, blocking the path of Irìssë's horse and earning her glare, it did, however, maker her look at him and that was what he needed.

Tyelko searched her eyes for any sign that they still knew each other "Do you truly want that?"

Her stare as intense as his, daring him to say anything "Yes."

"I'm sorry, Ammë," he told Nerdanel and he meant so, it had been so long since he'd seen her but he felt it wasn't what he needed.

Nerdanel, albeit strained, merely smiled "If you are both decided I have nothing else to say."

The four of them separated another hour later, Nerdanel leading Curufin to his temporary home, while Irìssë led him towards the forest, Tyelko had half expected to be led deeper inside, instead, they stopped right at the edge, where a small-ish wood cabin stood.

It was no Himlad, that was certain, almost too simple even for Irìssë but it didn't look cramped, having at least two floors, it would have been rather uncomfortable otherwise. Her son. Tyelko hadn't even considered that when he'd made his choice. He knew nothing about the boy, besides a vague memory of his presence in the battlefield with Turgon, thinking about it now, he wished he'd known sooner, it was strange how such a big side of Irìssë was now a mistery to him.

"You can still leave."

It was the first smile she'd given him and it was more of a scornful grin, crooked, not what he remembered in places. But it was the closest thing to home he had in years.

"Too bad, you're stuck with me now."

[toastedbuckwheat]

Random Eöl & Aredhel from an AU that can't even be explained anymore

[iriysse]

headcanon.

Typically Elves heal too quickly for scars, but under times of great duress and in places of darkness healing is slower than usual and leaves silver scars which are cold to the touch. Aredhel bore such scars after leaving Nan Elmoth, her state of depression combined with a lack of freedom and light caused for her natural healing to not work properly. She had burn scars on her arms from the time Eöl pushed her into the forge on 'accident', and on her back from when he backed her into a kiln. Knives held to her throat that were pushed a little too deeply, drawing blood. Another scar on her cheek from when she didn't duck in time, very close to her right eye. That's not to mention her ears which became mangled as Eöl had a fondness for biting them during sex. In fact his teeth had left a few marks when they got vicious enough to draw blood. One large scar was cut across her chest, made by a sword from the last time she tried to fight Eöl in defense of Maeglin. She nearly won, that time, but he had cheated, and so she bore the mark of her rebellion.

These were hidden by Maeglin when they left Nan Elmoth through enchanted illusions, as Aredhel could not bear the sight of them and did not wish Turgon to see them.

After her rebirth, she bore a singular scar across her left breast, from where the javelin had cut into her. Unhealed in her fëa it passed from one body to the next. One final physical reminder of her past.

[sunlightfeeling]

Hi, I have beef with Karei-naru Ichizoku and this is why:

If you watched this and thought something along the lines of “Huh?”or “What’s the issue?”

…First off, I’m insanely jealous of you can we switch brains?…please?…ahem anyways:

This show will punch you in the fucking gut and make you so upset

and then give you a scene (or worse…its these two circumstances occuring within the same scene…it happens) where Kimura looks or acts like this (a boss-ass bitch or…he just looks hot…he didn’t have to pull his coat off like that and the heel clicks?!)

which then completely distracts from what’s happening

TAKUYA IM ACTUALLY WATCHING FOR THE PLOT FOR ONCE WOULD YOU KINDLY FUCK OFF?

…im..im actually kidding..kinda necessary for the plot bud…come back??

oh also say hi to OG Tanimura for 0.5 seconds

[eri-pl]

Eöl! With scars! And suggestions of an interesting backstory! And probably Anguirel.

[lacontroller1991]

I See You (Ernest Lawrence x F!Reader)

Main Master List || MISC Master List

Requested by @mariaarlert : I really love your work, so if it's possible, could you please write a ff for Ernest in which the reader is as talented in physics as Oppie, but really enjoys reading and painting? And also struggles with depression.

Discloser: This is based on Josh Hartnett's EOL. If you're not a fan, please continue on with your day :)

Warnings: Mentions of depression

Word Count: 1.5k

-----------

He sees you. He knows that he probably shouldn’t, but from the moment he met you, he was enraptured. He remembers the first time he met you months ago. You had walked into his lab at Oppenheimer’s side, eyes wide and beauty that rivals Hollywood’s famous movie stars. Lawrence couldn’t deny that he was jealous when he saw a gorgeous woman like you with Oppenheimer, who is still talking to his flavor of the month, but his jealousy quickly subsided when he found out that you were to be Oppie’s TA. 

Since that day, Lawrence would watch you from the sides and even from the shadows as you work day and night, correcting Oppenheimer’s work and grading his students’ work. Judging by how he always manages to see you at random times throughout the day and night, Lawrence assumes that you have no life outside of school. And he was right for the most part. It wasn’t until he decided to ask you out that he found out that you do have a life. After a couple months of dating, he found out that you have a passion for art and reading. He would often come over to your apartment after a long day in the lab only to find you cuddled by a fireplace, book in your lap. Or some days he would find you lost in your paintings. Needless to say, he never would’ve thought that those were your hobbies based on your knowledge in quantum physics. 

The rain patters against the windows of the library as Lawrence leans back in his chair. He doesn’t typically come to the library, especially when he has his own office and lab, yet something about sitting in a library reminds him of his undergrad days. The clock beside him reads well past 11:30 and he’s probably the only one in the library at that time. Deciding enough was enough, he grabs his books filled with notes for the next week of lectures and turns off the light, encasing him in darkness. Just as he reaches for the door a light humming sound catches his attention. Looking around the library he doesn’t spot another person, especially because he was the last one to come in, but still, something is making a sound and he wants to know what it is. 

Deciding to investigate, Ernest cautiously walks down the halls of Bancroft Library until he spots a room tucked away in the corner with the light on. Picking up his pace, he pokes his head through the door and is taken aback seeing you in the room, humming to yourself and painting. 

“(Y/N)?” His voice causes you to jump in your seat and quickly turn around, rubbing a hand across your puffy red eyes.

“Ernest? What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone else was in here except me,” you sniffle, trying to dry your eyes and put on a smile but Ernest can see right through it. Shuffling into the room, he sets his briefcase down on the table and pulls out a seat, wanting to comfort you but not knowing how. “Sorry for my appearance, I wasn’t expecting anybody to be here.”

“No, it’s okay. Are you okay? Why are you crying?” You turn away from him and continue with your painting, the colors clashing against each other to make out a shape that Ernest can’t decipher. The painting isn’t like your normal paintings. Normally your paintings consist of your environments, like Berkeley’s campus or San Francisco, but this? It’s a storm of colors and Ernest wonders why this painting is so different from your typical ones.

“I’m fine.” It’s a short sentence but he knows you’re not fine. If there’s one thing that Ernest hates above all else, it’s lying, especially when it’s obvious. 

“Don’t lie. You can talk to me, you know?” He watches as you seem to think for a moment before setting down your brush and turning back to him, clutching onto your body while the rain continues to pour on the outside. 

“I’m just tired of not being seen.” The words take Ernest aback. “I’m tired of not being seen for myself. I’m tired of no one taking notice of the things I like. Anytime I try to introduce myself or make friends, they automatically guard themselves around me and try to impress me so they can get in with Dr. Oppenheimer, but they don’t see me. I know I’m smart. I’m extremely smart. I just wish I was normal. I’m tired of just being “Dr. Oppenheimer’s pet”.” Ernest sits in silence for a minute as he processes your words. He never would’ve guessed that you’re so unhappy. How could you seriously think this way? Is it something he did? Did he mess up? Sure, he spends a lot of time in the lab, but he thought that you understood why. Even if he is part of the issue, you never confronted him and he doubts that you would just brush it off. 

Leaning back in his seat, he runs a hand across his face before it falls back to his lap. “Have you talked to Robert about this?”

“He just pats me on the back and says ‘you’ll be fine’, news flash, I’m far from fine. I want to go back home and I wish I never came here.” The words hurt Ernest deep as your tears start flowing again and you place your head in your hands, your body shaking from the sobs that escape your mouth. Reaching out to you, Ernest easily drags you from your seat and places you in his lap, holding you close as you quiet down. “I’m just tired of this. I want to be seen for something other than my brain.” 

His hand slowly pets your hair as he thinks of something to say. Had he picked up on this a while ago, he would’ve confronted you about it and maybe the feelings you’re feeling now wouldn’t be as strong. Ernest can’t help but to beat himself up about it. He should’ve noticed that you’re struggling. “I see you, you know?” His soft words cause you to lift your face and gaze up at him. “I see you as more than ‘Oppie’s pet’. I see you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N). A brilliant scientist in the making. A gorgeous, caring, funny, and beyond talented woman that I can see myself with for the rest of my life.” He can tell that his admission stuns you and he knows that it’s probably too early into a relationship to be making those claims, but when you know you know, even if it’s only been 5 months. 

“Ernest?” You get off his lap and stare at him and he can’t read past your stonewall. Letting out a sigh, he runs his hand through his hair, disrupting his perfectly parted hair to where a few strands fall in front of his face. 

“It’s true. I know we’ve only been dating for less than half a year and I know that I’m always working and you’re always working, but every time I see you, my heart skips a beat. I can’t go a single minute without thinking about you. That’s why I’m always in the lab. I can’t get any work done because you’re always on my mind. I see you, (Y/N). I have always seen you,” he takes a stride forward and gently cusps your face in his hands, staring down at you through his glasses. “I will always see you.” Ernest leans forward and places a feather soft kiss to your forehead and it’s all you need before you’re surging into his arms, clutching onto his suit jacket and breaking down. Wrapping his arms around you, Ernest gently guides you down to the floor while he lets you cry it out. 

After a few minutes, your tears start to subside and hiccups replace them while Ernest gently pats your back. It’s almost midnight now and he can’t deny that he’s emotionally and physically tired but he wouldn’t dare comment about it. “I’m sorry that you had to see me like this,” your words are quiet, but he heard them nonetheless. 

“I hope you know that I meant what I said. When I said I see myself with you for the rest of my life I meant it. I want everything about you. Tears and all,” he lightly pokes your side causing you to laugh softly. 

“It’s still silly.” Ernest reaches for your face and uses his thumb to wipe away your tears before helping you up.

“I don’t think so,” he replies, taking off his suit jacket and placing it around your shoulders, “you’re entitled to feel things and I can’t imagine the stress you’re under.” You shoot him a glare as if asking ‘are you serious’ but he doesn’t care. “Ok so maybe I do, but it doesn’t take away from your feelings.” He watches as you pack up your art supplies, tossing them haphazardly into a bag and slinging it over your shoulder before taking the canvas and tossing it in the trash. “Why are yo-”

“I throw them away when I no longer need them.” 

-----------

Author's Note: I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! Sorry its so much shorter than others

[distrochooser]

Oh great and all knowing Distro Chooser!

Free me from the tyranny of Win11 and tell me what distro to use!

Seriously though, I'm sick and tired of windows and want to get some practice with linux on my laptop before the win 10 EOL arrives and I need to migrate my gaming gaming PC to a linux based OS.

What would you recommend?

Give @steamos-official a try! Sorry for taking so long to respond. I've heard it's much better as a daily driver then it used to be, especially for those things we call "gamers".

[dreemurr-skelememer]

fandom became a shitfest when people started applying IRL morality to shipping and fictional characters to the point they care MORE about the fictional characters then real people, especially younger fandom; it has really made me rethink how teenagers online these days have this entitlement and righteousness to the point they think it’s haha/Hehe to tell victims to kill themselves. Digital footprints exist, and you aren’t helping any real children or victim by bashing on drawings.

(which, by the way there have been multiple instances of “normal” people having artists kill themselves because they deem fiction more important then real people, an artist I followed literally got the worst of it and has now gone into EOL stages because the harassment and belittlement of what fantis did fucked up their health. They are now dead.

But, BUT!!! death is never enough for these fuckers who will send CSEM as a gotcha, support doxxing and all that shit, I really don’t blame you for being fed up over people who think they have a moral standing because they “ship pure things” as if anti-ship rhetoric of any kind isnt just recycled antisemitic language and victim blaming victims and dictating how we should cope and get our yucky feelings of trauma out, because we aren’t “perfect victims” fuck off; we aren’t asking any of you fucks to like our ships. We are asking for y’all to stop throwing tantrums and then preaching moral standing over “icky” ships. You are allowed to be uncomfortable. But you aren’t allowed to hurt real people over it. 🤷

I want fandom to fucking change so badly but it’s hopeless. Sorry to rant in your inbox like this, I’m just sorry you gotta put up with that shit.

you are always so based anon

[eri-pl]

Hard magic, soft magic, hard metaphysics…

So, we all know the soft magic vs hard magic distinction, and soft vs hard worldbuilding in gereral, right? (If not, it's probably easily googleable. I'm bad at explaining concepts.)

Tolkien is more or less soft-magic, yes, in the sense that magic has no (strict and known to the reader) rules. He has some hard worldbuilding (and strived to make it harder and harder), but that's not very relevant for this post (except that I appreciate the amount of effort).

What matters is hard metaphysics.

As in: good and evil are well defined (the reader may disagree with the definitions, but they are concrete and rather clear), and have well defined consequences. But it's not a physical phenomenon, so the consequences are often indirect and appear after some time.

(long and somewhat chaotic post below cut)

To clear this out: to be honest, I wouldn't say those definitions 100% align with how Catholicism sees it, There's some fairytale to it. Mentally stable and securely attached characters are …I don't want to call it "more good", because it's jarring to me. Let's say they're brighter than characters who carry a lot of baggage. And that is not how morality works, sorry, Professor.

Anyway, no matter my opinion on it, it is a pretty coherent system.

Plus: estel is a thing. "Happy chance" (divine providence) is a thing. When you are a bright-hearted character, acting in a good way at the moment, and you take a leap of faith, it works. It just works.

(Contrary to how usually "magic systems" work, I'd say: you can't do it fully on purpose, of course you can't. Even if you know it works, you must be at least so emotionally deregulated in the moment to not see that it works. And tbh this is a very legit assumption to me., makes sense)

Anyway: This is probably why I don't see Luthien as Mary Sue. It's not the narrative bending for her. It's the world itself bending, because this is how it works. (yes, it doesn't work for Feanorians, we'll get there)

If anything, I would call Luthien privileged. (It is not a negative thing in itself, it's just like being white or something ok? the important part is what you do with it and I'm not going to analyze Luthien on that because that's not relevant to this post).

She is born to a very healthy, kind and (before Beren asked for her hand…) good family. This makes a lot of things easier. This makes being a "bright" character easier.

BTW: do we even know anyone with bad background who is a bright character? Tuor maybe? Finarfin if we assume Finwë neglected him emotionally?

On the opposite end, there are some characters with a wholesome background who turn evil anyway (yes, Melkor, you. And your secretary. And… probably some incarnates too? Gollum? Maybe Eol, but he's more a "missing backstory" than "good backstory").

Anyway, back to Luthien. Her crazy actions work not because she's Edith, but because she has a bright heart, a lot of hope, and does good (tries to save her beloved). She has all of that because she's Edith. Yes. :) But still not a Mary Sue, just a very powerful character in terms of "mechanics" of this world.

And why doesn't estel work this way for Feanorians, why the Battle of Unnumbered Tears is… well, Unnumbered Tears. They had hope, after all.

Well, because they started with darkness, because blasphemy and murder and Doom of Mandos. And even if they're sorry (maybe they are), this means a lot, but doesn't change the more surface results, in particular it doesn't change the "you're doomed to fail, guys" part.

How does Earendil fit into this? How does Turin (who didn't do so much wrong initially) and even moreso, Hurin, fit into this? I have no idea. It's not a 100% strict set of rules. But I don't think it's much fuzzier than a typical magic system either.

I hope this explains something anyway.

Those are my opinions, but I'm pretty certain that at least the general idea is something Tolkien would agree with. Maybe he would say that it works sometimes, but not always, because mysterious. OK, I guess. Still, it mostly works.

So what about Finrod? Oh, my boy Finrod. He had Doom of the Noldor on his head too. He had blood on his hands. No matter how awesome of a fanboy he is, Morgoth would pop his optimism just as Sauron did, and eat him and his army.

But the problem wasn't "army to small", the problem was "king too problematic". So C&C's critique wasn't very… they got the right conclusion, but not the main problem. Bigger army wouldn't fix it.

(I try to not complain, but if Tolkien wrote King David, he would have him dead in an ugly way before Solomon even happenned. But ok, it is not Bible, it is its own thing close to fairytales and sagas, Guy did one seriously evil thing, guy can't have a happy ending. OK, to be honest to Tolkien: Finrod got kind of a happy ending eventually.)

(@dfwbwfbbwfbwf this is that post I mentioned)

[silmarillaure]

What you're favorite Silmarillion pairing says about you.

Thingol/Melian - You think you deserve everything good the world has to offer, news flash! You deserve nothing! But you have a serious lucky streak.

Finwe/Miriel - You love Feanor. (You might even be Finwe yourself!)

Finwe/Indis - You hate Feanor.

Feanor/Nerdanel - You've simped for every handsome, fictional, broken, angsty, sad boy ever.

Finarfin/Earwen - You just wanted good things for Finarfin, and honestly, who wouldn't?

Maedhros/Fingon - You absolutely adore doomed relationships.

Celegorm/Orome - You like the functional/disaster dynamic they have. (You probably also ship Cherik from X-Men.)

Celegorm/Aredhel - You watch Game of Thrones (or House of The Dragon).

Aredhel/Eol - You have stockholm syndrome.

Aegnor/Andreth - You live for tragic romance.

Caranthir/Haleth - You either self insert very hard into Caranthir and want an awesome GF or you're just a slut for the goth/jock dynamic.

Beren/Luthien - You're dating someone way out of you're league.

Glorfindel/Ecthelion - You literally have nothing going on in your life that you started shipping two pretty background characters.

Idril/Tuor - You're super vanilla. Sorry, but like why? There are so many better couples. The only thing I can say in you're defence is that Earendil's amazing.

Earendil/Elwing - You absolutely love couples who give a shit about nearly nothing except eachother!

Melkor/Sauron - I don't know what to tell you honestly, but you probably have no idea what love is.

Sauron/Celebrimbor - You have a very controlling partner who exhibits red flags constantly.

[chaifootsteps]

Hey Chai, I know the Hazbin leaks are the main talk right now and I'm sorry to bring it up again but I am so conflicted about Jane's document you mentioned a bit ago.

I read it all, and at first I was believing every word, felt so bad for Jane, all these horrible endless turmoils that happened to her. Then when I went back through and started reading the screenshots I started seeing contradictions. They'd be like:

Jane is just saying the claim to someone else on Discord (which provides a likely timestamp but not necessarily definitive proof)

There's not much present that actually backs up Jane's claim

Context appears to be missing

The proof occasionally contradicts itself

Jane says one thing in one screenshot while saying something different in another. (One Example: In one she lies/downplays what she told people about Avery and tells Karli she just "saw him giving people massages" and "never said he got me drunk .. only that I wondered if he wanted to try to" then in her conversation with Avery's ex she literally tells her "he was awfully touchy with women at the party" and "he tried to get me drunk.")

(Another example was she claimed Steven was abusive, but you read all the screenshots she provided and it's just her talking at Steven and occasionally trauma-dumping, with him responding in either supportive or neutral/blunt ways or requesting reasonable boundaries considering that she's living there rent-free and with free groceries. She titles a few screenshots "Steven being weird about my d*ck" then the screenshots just show HER bringing up her d*ck and him asking Jane to avoid making a mess when she pees and offers she could try sitting down because he does that to avoid making a mess too.)

I'm not trying to defend Ang, or anyone else in the doc, and I'm not trying to say Jane's a liar that shouldn't be trusted, but maybe to caution people to go back and re-read it with ALL the screenshots and make more careful judgement when not just Jane but anyone comes out with a long list of extreme claims.

I also think Jane might've misread some situations considering how young she was at the time + her trauma + C-PTSD + her DID. That is not me trying to say she didn't suffer, or that some of her claims aren't true, or that some people mentioned in the doc didn't make poor decisions, and it's possible for some of them Jane just made poor choices in the screenshots she included or something.

( And outside of the doc Jane recently claimed on Twitter that Ang faked their su*c*de and went on about how that affected her but... we all know Ang was publicly open about their declining health and that they were ready to leave socials to succumb to it because they had no medical care and no money to get it and were getting worse. And then people assumed that meant A. Instant Su*c*de, B. Ang is now dead, and spread that around like wildfire until people involved had to be like "Ang isn't fucking dead they're approaching EOL what are y'all talking about." Idk if Jane misunderstood that, or if Ang truly did additionally fake their suicide behind closed doors, I find the latter less likely, but food for thought I guess. )

If you're open to it I can send you a few more main points in the screenshots that felt contradictory to me, if not I'll just leave this ask as it is, and thanks for reading it, it's okay if you don't post it.

It's...a tangle, for sure. I honestly don't know what to make of it myself.

I will say that if Ang isn't dead or dying I would like more solid proof of that, because when I talked to them years ago, they were in frighteningly poor health. Their spinal fluid was leaking to the point where they could taste it in their mouth, and when people had said they'd died, I wasn't surprised. Not even the slightest bit.

[novemberthecatadmirer]

I don’t headcanon Eol as evil but I headcanon him as the type to do fucked-up problematic shit to their children while believing he was doing the necessary right thing

Like, I think he was the type to force baby Maeglin to kill tied up orcs “for practice.”

I take Tolkien’s idea and headcanon him as an ex-thrall of Angband, and ended up with this very bleak perception of the world, believing there was danger everywhere.

Knowing about kinslaying absolutely did not make him feel safer. Now there were these murderous overpowered elves occupying twice-stolen Sindar land. And the kinslayers were not sorry they would likely murder again when it felt convenient. (Living right next to C & C’s realm did not help with his negative feelings about Noldor at all.)

He never expected to have a child, and when he got one he ended up as this paranoid obsessive overprotective parent that wanted to tough their child up to prepare them for the harsh world. He genuinely believed he was doing the right thing, because what if an orc just appeared out of nowhere and snatch my child to the Iron Jail that happened to so many children out there

He had some idea all these trainings were traumatizing for his son but he believed it was an acceptable sacrifice.

Aredhel argued with him over it but even Aredhel did not have a good idea of what was proper to teach a child. She brought her baby out to hunt wolves “for fun.” Eol saw danger everywhere and she could not see danger at all, which caused an entirely different type of trauma.

I think Eol had a very twisted perception of danger due to some past trauma and would take drastic measure to have control over the situation. Which rather caused a lot of damages.

[iriysse]

@malkuvoitenoldoran redirected from here

Seeing the way his little sister seemed to crumble before him woke every instinct that had anything to do with his siblings. Turucano immediately crossed to her side and pulled Irisse into a hug, gentle but firm as he had when she had been an elfling seeking him for comfort. His hands were gentle as they held her, as careful as they had always been when holding something precious to him. "I am here, Irisse. As long as you want me I am here." A soft reassurance, murmured in a gentle tone. Everything about him sought to heal and comfort, to protect her from whatever horrors she faced.

The way she clung to him, with every fibre of her being, sent her centuries back into a childlike state. Weeping into her brother's shoulder as she released the latent emotions that a century of hurt had crammed inside her. Regret and loneliness, fear and anger, loss of self, fear of rejection. Eols words haunted her mind, and she felt guilt and shame for somehow letting them.

Do you think they'd accept you, that they would accept our son? They would kill him, and cast you out.

No, no they would not. Turu would never. Turu loved her, Turu would love Lomion.

"I am sorry," She whispered through her tight throat, words she had wanted to say to him for eighty years. "You were right, I never should have gone. Me and my stupid pride--I am sorry. The things I said---"

[shrikeseams]

I feel like there has to be a dichotomy in broader elvish culture between people who want to Learn To Do/Make Every Single Thing Themselves, and people who really want Everything To Be Made/Done By The Best Person At Making/Doing. But I can’t decide what general lines the difference falls along.

My first thought was culture, but I can see, for example, arguments for both sides among the Noldor (and other groups as well, but I am Noldor-centric, sorry).

But maybe along class lines? Like, I feel like Thingol is a clear example of the type who just wants to go to a specialist (see: the building of Menegroth; the sword Eol gave him; the silmaril and the nauglamir; and I can’t think of any reference to him making anything except his own political/cultural group?), but I also don’t see, for example, Beleg or Mablung necessarily following that example.

Also, there’s an issue of community size and what kind of trading partners are available. The more reclusive avari groups kinda have to learn a bit of everything or just do without.

But there’s also an aspect of age. Like, it we assume that Legolas is the elf equivalent of a 20-something, and that Beleg has been kicking around since Cuivienen, even if they both have the same general interests/similar careers, it makes sense for Legolas to have (and to want to cultivate) fewer skills, at least for a while. Part of the impulse to Learn To Do Everything is that the characters literally have forever to learn everything, but that still takes a certain amount of time to be viable.

Anyway. I haven’t decided how I think this all shakes out, but I do think there are fundamentally two types of elves. The ones who want to do everything, and the ones who want everything around them to be the best it can be.

[superloves4]

We can always begin again - Chapter 2

Relationships: Celegorm/Aredhel, Curufin/Finrod (background) Summary: Celegorm didn't think he'd be granted mercy, that he'd be re-embodied or that he'd be welcome anywhere. Aredhel thought she'd never welcome him again after what he'd done. They were never good at staying away from each other. TW: none for this chapter but a warning: this is mostly canon compliant Celegorm, for what this fic is supposed to be this means Eol won't be beyond salvation (he is in only one chapter briefly but I felt this needed to be said) (Not to worry tho, I have another aretyel fic in the works where Eol is just the worst) A/N: I don't know if I made Maeglin justice, should I re-read the fall of Gondolin?

First chapter on my pinned comment, also on AO3

"Lòmion! Are you home?"

Aredhel shouted when they entered the cabin. A bright thing with it's top to floor windows, giving a good view of the woods nearby, all was very comforting with walls of white wood that turned golden with the setting sun, the lit fireplace crackling, soft couches with blankets of furs. Celegorm could feel Aredhel had taken deep care when choosing every thing in there.

"Did he accept?" was the low reply from the banister.

Celegorm wondered how he could've had only vague memories of the other elf, he was the image of his friend in male form, staring at him with piercing eyes and Celegorm knew that he was being judged with utmost prejudice.

"Guess the answer is yes."

Celegorm leaned towards Aredhel "Are you sure he isn't some long lost son of Curvo?"

He saw her lip trembling as she held back a smile "Leave him alone."

Celegorm raised his hands in surrender then shrugged and turned towards Maeglin instead "So you are Lòmion, huh."

The man didn't speak at first, just continued his path down the stairs, paying attention to every movement Celegorm did, perhaps he should have disliked the scrutiny but Celegorm thought it fitting of Irissë's kid, he'd have much disliked him otherwise. He grinned, this should be interesting.

Finally Maeglin stood in front of him, about his own height, not that surprising as Aredhel was the same "I was told stories about you."

That was not what he expected, he thought he'd be given a challenge or some strongly worded threat to stay away, or anything else really, not that.

"What?"

Aredhel cleared her throat, moving him away from her son and from the entrance, leading further into the cabin instead.

"This is the kitchen," she quickly pushed him along to the room, it was in a rather different style than what he was used to but in the years he'd spent in the Halls he could imagine it had changed into the glossy tiles he saw now, but he barely had time to analyze much more than the simple wood table that Aredhel was again pushing him away and pointed to a birch door "That is the bathroom" and then towards the stairs "Third door to the right is your room, you can't miss it."

"Oh, no, you're not getting out of this!" he dug his heels in the floor instead, he was having fun now.

"Celegorm!"

He grinned, more familiar with this banter, turning around to look at her "Your child's bedtime stories were of me?"

Aredhel glared at him, ready to slap the smugness out of his mouth, but there was none of the bitterness of their initial meeting "You had a giant dog! What do you think children want to hear about?"

"Ammë!"

"Can't you go mope in your room like a good returned, relearning how bodies work?" she asked exasperated.

Celegorm laughed and considered rib her some more but it wasn't right, they weren't that close anymore, she wasn't just Irìssë anymore.

"Sorry, it was nice to know you missed me at some point," he grabbed the rucksack the maiar would give to the returned, he was starting to get attached to the ugly thing, then turned to Maeglin again "Good to meet you, can't imagine this was the best way to meet a childhood hero."

Maeglin blushed and glared "You weren't-"

"He's just trying to rile you up," Aredhel explained, well used to his antics so he just winked at the two and followed the instructions for the bedroom.

If he were to be truthful he'd admit that Aredhel was correct, it was the whole day that his body felt incorrect in a way, the horse ride had left him aching for one, this type of ride would have never bothered him before, but even beyond the physical it would take time and much training before his body felt his again. It was fun to pretend that nothing happened, that they could play around like before, and they would be back to running through the forest again but even his body didn't feel his anymore.

Celegorm let himself fall, face first, onto the bed prepared for him.

He was terribly tired, unsure what to do with his new life, he used to live for the Hunt but even if it were possible for him to be welcomed back he didn't know if he wanted to be welcomed back, he almost wanted to be back in Beleriand, in Himlad where he had belonged, did he belong anywhere anymore?

He breathed in then out. Taking small steps to remember what he was made of.

There was breath in his lungs, there was blood pumping in his veins and he could his heart beating in his ears. His hands could touch the covers Aredhel had chosen to lend him, it was soft and he could smell the pines from outside, they used to make satchels, perhaps the smell came from one.

He took a breath and started to count, one touch, one thread on the cotton blanket, one hair, tangling on his hand as he immersed himself in the world around, one thread had broken, if he didn't fix it would lead to a hole on the side.

His breathing started to slow down until he fell asleep for the first time in this new strange life.

Maeglin had still been staring upstairs when Aredhel returned with some garlic soup for them, the reminder of food finally driving him away from his contemplations, but still he observed his mother as they quietly ate.

Aredhel wasn't much bothered usually, but with the arrival of Celegorm she felt uneasy and so she broke the silence and asked "Does it bother you? Do you want me to send him away?"

Maeglin looked at her for a time, as if he was trying to ascertain how truthful she was being in that moment, before finally speaking "You didn't need to invite him for my sake."

Aredhel flinched "I didn't." She tried to sound firm but Maeglin could see her hand tremble, she had been re-embodied long enough that such a thing would not be a natural happening anymore.

Maeglin sighed, looking directly at her "But you wouldn't have taken him in if it wasn't for me."

She smiled tensely and took her half-eaten soup to throw away, Maeglin knew she hadn't eaten since leaving to see Celegorm in Lòrien so it couldn't be a lack of hunger that kept her from eating.

"I did this for me, it's not your problem to face."

Aredhel kissed his head and left.

[magpiecaranthir]

Huan and Lomion becoming best friends in the 4th age. Or, more likely, Huan making Lomion his new friend.

No yeah bc lomion deserves a big guard dog that's surprisingly fluffy after a bath.

But on a more serious note, I can never decide if huan would actually go out of the halls in the first place.

But then I think and wonder why would anyone want huan near, anyone who isnt a descendant of luthien anyway bc he went with them and died for luthien and beren?

Like, I think that aredhel wouldnt want huan anywhere close to her son.

Aredhel, famously besties with not only Celegorm but also curufin, went against her brother to hang out with her cousins. She's got some sense of loyalty even if it goes against the wishes of her siblings, because she decides not to abandon her cousins. And I think that she wouldnt take kindly to who was essentially celegorm's furry bestie betraying Celegorm and curufin both, to fuck off with essentially strangers.

Aredhel can hold her own, that's for sure, but she's failed lomion once before by not seeing that who she trusted (eol) would betray her and try to kill her son. Eol didnt have history of betrayal until Gondolin.

Huan does. Huan is literally gone down in history as betraying someone who he stuck with for over 500 years and a kinslaying and a Doom.

Yeah, it was the right thing to do, but like... aredhel sure as hell is going to think twice if she wants that dog anywhere near her son. She's not getting betrayed again. Sorry for that weird ramble anon