#wip: starlight journey

[odysseywritings]

Star Material (50s Actor AU)

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Haven and Reina prepared themselves for the newest installment of their jovial comedy series starring two amateur detectives stumbling into the solutions. Known as the foolhardy Stan Reynolds and the neurotic Olivia Navarro, they would travel to exotic locales replicated with creative set designs, with their current one set in space.

"Oh, Stan!" Reina's character Olivia fretted as she was held at laser point by aliens with third eyes painted on their foreheads. "Please tell me you're close to solving the puzzle!"

"Don't worry," Haven's character smirked in front of a set of square buttons on a computer. "These guys haven't met anyone with my brains before!"

"I don't know if that's a boast or a medical diagnosis! But look for any patterns, hurry!"

Stan rubbed his hands in confidence and started examining the squares. He pressed on one expecting a clear ding. Instead he got silence. The prop was a dud.

"Cut!" the director yelled. "Get the crew on that, see what's the issue."

Reina complimented the 'captors' and moved to Haven as he rested his elbows on the computer, or rather the blocky prop that looked like one to the camera. She put an arm around his shoulder and chuckled.

"Haven, when you came to Hollywood, did you expect your career to be like this?"

He smiled and looked back at her with blue eyed warmth.

"Being frank? I imagined another western."

The two laughed and reminisced over their journeys to the world of movies. Reina wrapped her fingers around Haven's hair and leaned her face against him.

"I remember thinking how small my world was before the war," Haven said. "I don't like thinking about it, but all that travel... It made me want to see and do everything. Making the most of life, I suppose."

"Hmm. My life was similar. A young girl with dreams of leaving her miserable world for the silver screen. Lush music for glamorous women and swooped up by dashing heroes. But I knew deep down the public wouldn't see me as beautiful enough for those roles. It was either comedy or bit roles."

Haven turned and saw Reina downcast and he planted his face against her back and held her.

"Reina, dear, if you were a leading lady, the competition would be unemployed."

Reina smiled widely with bright red lipstick making her look radiant to Haven. Even in her plain clothes, he was smitten with her appearance, including her sleek black hair amidst the sea of bouffant blonds. She positioned herself to face Haven and held his chin as he held her waist.

"And you don't need a writer for that silver tongue."

"Perhaps," Haven lowered his voice and looked deeply at her. "But for this moment, I might need the leading lady to give me the cue."

She leaned her head down and grinned, "Action~"

The two shared a deep kiss away from distracted eyes, and it felt like they were in their own scene, two lovers who only needed a grand orchestra to add lush strings. They were in a daze of vulnerable emotions as reality came back into their senses.

Instead, the only sound was the director yelling for the cast. Haven wiped the lipstick marks from his face and Reina prepared her gawky walk for the role. Energized from the break and the kiss, they were more than ready to continue the cheesy but profit making movie.

"And... Action!"

[wheel-of-fics]

Fanfiction Author Interview Game

Thank you for the tag, @kotaka-kun! I'm trying to get back into writing and am forcing myself to get in a better fic-writer mindset.

How many works do you have on AO3?

14 (but more on FFN, from the olden times)

What's your total AO3 word count?

209.294 (442,145 on FFN)

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Unsung

Out of the Woods

Old Haunts

Turnabout

Restoration

(If we're considering legacy FFN stuff, By Starlight would fall just after Unsung, and The Ivory Tower would probably be on the list, but since it's forever unfinished I like to pretend it doesn't exist.)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Usually! Although they sometimes fall through the cracks. I am really, really appreciative of comments and try to respond earnestly, but I feel like my replies start to sound like a broken record and it's awkward.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

IIIII don't know. Maybe Burn? I almost always turn angst into a happy ending by the end of the story. It's self-preservation.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

See previous answer—can't pick one!

Do you write crossovers?

I have not attempted to yet!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I've received several passive-aggressive comments and seen some not-nice things said about my work elsewhere, but I'm not sure I've gotten any straight-up hate comments, thankfully.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do; it's usually a part of a story and not the sole reason for it (though I have done that, too).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, Unsung and maybe something else (?) (it's been a while) has been translated into Chinese.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I think I would drive a co-author insane.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Uhhhh I can't pick, actually...I'll come back to this later (I won't)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Red Death Riding JUST KIDDING but it does feel like that sometimes. Still, we persevere.

What are your writing strengths?

Ughghgh I don't know. I’ve been told I'm good at pacing, and that balance between like inner thoughts and external goings-on. (There is a better way to say that, but I'm tired.) Um...I think I'm pretty good at sentence flow? And...punctuating correctly? I sure hope I'm decent at character development. And I like to think I bring original ideas to the table.

What are your writing weaknesses?

The ideation of it all (though this hasn't always been the case—it's a work in progress), and honestly just getting words on the page. It's so hard to turn off the editor brain I use for work, and I feel like I'm always editing myself before, during, and after every sentence. I also wish I could delve deeper into the thoughts and reactions of characters who aren't like me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Not a huge fan. It can be OK if done well, but it often takes me out of the narrative.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I have enough trouble focusing on my current fic/fandom as it is! Don't make me think about other things!

What's your favorite fic you've written?

I honestly don’t have one. I see each fic as a stepping stone in the course of my writing journey—a challenge that I issued to myself and completed—and I'm usually looking forward to the next challenge instead of back.

I haven't been around much lately and don't know who all has done this! I'll try tagging @musicalhell @les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques @emotionalmotionsicknessxx and @rienerose (but please feel free to ignore!).

[the-ellia-west]

Second Ramble of the Night! Let's talk about another main WIP of mine, Of Starlight and Beasts.

It's a high fantasy adventure set in a fictional continent where magic is woven into the very fabric of daily lives, but where a dreadful curse is slowly spreading day by day - the work of the vengeful Crimson Queen, a scorned sorceress who seeks revenge for the brutal deaths of her husband and child centuries ago, by destroying the continent that doomed them, regardless of all the innocent lives her curse is reaping. The main plot follows a girl named Corah Stormryder - who lives in the capital of the realm, the kingdom of Tirawen, which is constantly beset by horrid monsters born from the Crimson Queen's curse. Daughter of a renowned monster hunter, Corah wants nothing more than to become a knight of the realm and save the land from the curse that is slowly consuming their land.

Corah meets Arammys, a mysterious mage with the power of the stars, lost in a forest. He seems to have lost all memory of his past and who he is, all except for his name. They become friends, and shortly after embark on a cross-country journey to find a forgotten relic that can put a stop to the Crimson Queen's advance on their land and to discover more about the prophecy that seems to be bound to Arammys' strange magic. While they're at it, they also deal with internal conflicts of their own, with Corah struggling with feelings of inadequacy and her resentment of her absent mother, and Arammys trying to discover who he really is while being haunted by the looming shadow of his uncontrollable powers.

They make a lot of allies in their journey, namely Eidan Delythen, a "lone wolf" kind of rogue who travels the land looking for redemption, Maryon Haell, the quirky daughter of a powerful spymaster, Kyran and Masen Mavven twins who hate each other but are trapped in the same quest, among others!

Some of the contents of this WIP are: found family, siblings, good vs evil, redemption, morally grey characters, fighting against fate, and many other juicy tropes!

Okay, first, FANTASTIC MAGIC PREMISE. I absolutely love the Epithets and Names! Amniesia plot point is BEAUTIFUL for Arammys. (I love him already)

Also can I ship it?

Anyway, CORAH ANGST LETS GO!!!

I'll call it now, Delythen is gonna be my favorite.

I LOVE ALL THE CHARACTER IDEAS AND .WQBDUIROVWETBFUKGTRWBY5FUGTEWHTG THE THEMES ARE ALL MY FAVORITE THINGS HOW COULD YOU

[ginoeh]

For the WiP asks, you have so many good ones, but I am so curious for the SoM AU??

So glad you asked! I really like this one but am totally unsure about the reception it would garner if I do it the way I want to - there mentally exists a version with less problematic edges than this og version here… I've been kind of frozen in a state of indecision on this for more than half a year now.

Beware, there are still a lot of plotholes XD Oh. And angst. There's… a lot of it. (It's on purpose and serves a purpose lol)

~~~

After meeting Hob in The New In, the meetings become more frequent over the following months. Hob falls in love - hard. When Dream has to leave following the conclave, to go get Nada out of Hell, he doesn’t leave Hob with a bottle of wine but with one of his Dreamstones as an amulet. It's meant as a promise as well as a security - for Hob and for the Dreaming. Unfortunately, this has an unintended side-effect. When the applicants for the Key to Hell are searching for something to barter with, the many eyes of a certain demon get drawn not only to a past but also to a present lover of the Dreamlord. 

What better way to gain dominion of the most sought after real estate of any realm than by holding prisoner everything Dream of the Endless currently wants and loves?

(more details and preview under the cut)

***

When Hob comes to, it's in complete darkness.

It's not the darkness of night - there is nothing natural or calming about it, nothing that smells of freedom, mystery and the cold starlight. This darkness is thick and smothering like oily smoke. It curls and clings to Hob's senses like tar, it slithers up his sinuses and into his throat, constricts his breath and his limbs until he feels unable to move at all. There are no sensations - no brush of air or clothes, no floor underneath his feet, no pain or indeed touch where his hands are curled into fists. No heartbeat underneath his skin.

The only thing he can see is himself. The only thing he can feel is Dream's black pearl amulet at his wrist.

He is alone, here in the darkness.

Or is he?

Far off, there is a speck of something. A shape, human-like, curled and suspended in nothing. 

It is a woman.

***

Hob, in contrast to Nada and entirely due to the dreamstone he has been gifted, is awake during his captivity. The only thing he has is a piece of Dream's power, his own mind and memories, and the specter of a captive woman. 

What regrets make up Hob's nightmares? 

While in the outside world Dream, in the bid to right past wrongs, realizes that he has lost not one but two loves to one inexcusable transgression, Hob in his prison of darkness slowly gets drowned by memories of his own past and the knowledge that some things cannot be forgiven.    

Their journeys mirror each other. And then there is the shatterpoint. 

***

Yeah, they're both a bit broken by the end of this. And probably better for it. For Dream and Hob this is a pivotal point to make or break their future together. As in the comics, Nada is the actual strong one in the setting XD  

Will this liberally abuse the power of the dreamstones? Actually, no. It's nothing more outlandish than what we've seen in the show/comic. Will this be a magically forced intro- and retrospective-driven character development for Dream and Hob? Yeeessss :)… Will this still be Dreamling? Also yes. But they deserve their fucky pasts and guilt and egotism and edges to be acknowledged. (Dream isn't only a wet mewmew and Hob isn't only a ray of sunshine)    -be getting off the soapbox now-

[curiouselleth]

For the WIP game, would you tell me about "The Founder" and "Morgoth Wins AU", please?

oh you've asked about the two biggest ones in the idea phase, wohoooo here we go! I haven't even started typing the rest of the answer to this ask but this will be longgg lol

---

The Founder -

The founder is a working title at the moment, if it ever becomes post-able then I'll certainly re name it. I will try my best to explain it in as few words as possible - last time I explained it to someone in full it took an hour and a half and 2600 words. This one is very indulgent but I love it.

Unfortunately, the Founder has also been a white whale for years. I'm not sure if it'll ever get in completely postable form, at least how I want it. But Veil of Starlight, my Elured is Gil-galad fic, actually had it's start in this fic! The concept was originally part of this fic, but it branched out into it's own. The concept will still be in this fic.

It starts with the main character. I haven't decided her name that she'll have at this point, but her name through the rest of it is Merldë.

She was a "normal" human from earth, current day, when she discovered a strange piece of technology that fell out of the sky. Of course she touches it. It turns out, it's a prototype device to travel through time or to other universes. So Merldë gets a fun, impromptu introduction to the multiverse and time travel. Through these little journeys, she also learns about her heritage.

Earth's universe has a strange entanglement, reaching out to other worlds, and the space in between worlds. This entanglement could draw in souls as they traveled between worlds to the one they are meant for. Merldë was one of them, she was supposed to go to the 1st age of Arda, and to be an elf. Not just any elf either, as she discovers her elvish heritage, she also discovers that she was to be the child of Elurin, and Gwingloth, (Irime/Lalwen's daughter, born in Gondolion.) She also discovers some maiar powers.

Over time, she decides to establish her own kind of artificial "bubble world" in the space between other worlds. Kind of like inter-dimensional Rivendell! It's named Oudawor.

Oudawor has two purposes. It's like a half-way house. They rescue people who were fated to die, or who were in bad situations and needed help. For those who were fated to die, they can find a new home, or figure out how to avoid that fate without changing time too much. Oudawor is also like a base of operations, they don't just rescue individuals, they go into all different worlds to help. For example, in conflicts or wars, bringing medical supplies or aid. It is done very carefully, so the timeline is not too changed, or dangerously changed.

Many of those worlds are ones we know, like middle earth, the MCU, the chronicles of narnia, etc. People on Earth know about these worlds through stories from the entanglement mentioned earlier, humans can pick up on it and other worlds subconsciously, which is where some of those stories come from. They are not always true to how the events really happened.

I don't have much written yet. Most of what I have is set in Arda, but I think that would be much later in the story, it would be the last part really, because Merldë was afraid to go, because Arda has one of the most fragile timelines, and because she is so closely related to so many there. And because I figured out how to end the story, it was pretty hard to find an ending that I liked and was satisfying. Now if only I could find a beginning... lol

The part of this fic that I'm passionate about really is that part, based in Arda, but I think it would cover a few other fandoms. Really, it could go into any! I have a lot of concepts for the Arda parts that I really love, some things in the first and second ages, and a few things before then. If you'd be interested in some more of the details, I have a few scenes figured out, and some world building and such, please let me know if you'd be interested!

---

Morgoth Wins AU -

This one was inspired by this song! I was listening to it one morning on my way to class and this entire idea just hit me at once.

I haven't quite worked out the years yet, but (obviously) Morgoth wins. How did this happen? Well, the Feanorians won the war for him. I'm not 100% sure on the details for a few parts, but here we go!

This starts with things generally going a good bit worse for most of the first age. The Feanorians were lured away from their respective strongholds, and Morgoth's forces surrounded and sieged their strongholds. Morgoth held all their people hostage, and presented a choice. He kills and enslaves all their people, or he lets them live in peace and comfort... if the Feanorians serve him. If they agree, he will also return the silmarils, fulfilling their oath. I think there would be a LOT more pressures and factors in them taking his deal, but ultimately, they do. And one by one, the people of Beleriand fall to their swords.

Celegorm and Caranthir hold Menegroth under siege. Maedhros and Maglor take Hithlum. Maedhros and Maglor hoped to get Fingon out of Hithlum. They fail, and Fingon is taken prisoner before they can get to him.

Curufin leads a force to Nargothrond. Curufin falls at Finrod and Celebrimbor's hands. There are no tears. Only anger, fury. How, why? No one but the Feanorians know why they switched sides. After a few more years, Nargothrond falls, and Finrod and Celebrimbor are taken.

Most of the house of Finwe actually survived Morgoth's victory, but became thralls in Angband. The house of Fingolfin endured the worst treatment. Finrod's fate was a bit different from the rest of those captured. He became a spectacle. After some years locked up, he is forced to be a direct servant and minstrel to Morgoth. His every defiance turned against him, and onto his family. He doesn't eat? They aren't fed. He refuses to cooperate? They are not allowed to sleep.

So how long until he stops? Until the only defiance is in his gaze? He is well fed and dressed, so when Morgoth sends him on errands that take him right by where his family is laboring and being tortured? Well, what they think of him is the real torture for Finrod.

How long until Finrod completely breaks? Not yet, but this fic will certainly find out!

The rest of Beleriand continues to fall in the next decades, until only Cirdan's people in Balar stand, and they are preparing a desperate escape.

The Feanorians are just... broken. Hollowed out by all they have done, they have obeyed Morgoth's commands for years without needing any further threats to their people to "motivate" them. They begin preparations for the final attack.

And at the same time, an escape plan is taking shape.

What happens from here? Well, that would be too many spoilers. I think it's going to be a bit before I start proper, post-able writing for this fic unfortunately. I have 6 or 7 things that are in the real writing phase, so this one shall have to wait until that number goes down lol

Thanks for the ask!!! I am constantly rotating the Founder, and I am so excited about the sheer amount of angst in the Morgoth Wins AU, I am cackling evilly.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Happy WBW! World map emoji - How many countries are there in your world? Feel free to dive into them as much/little as you want! 🍃 - How many seasons are there in your world?

Thank you so much for the ask, @pluttskutt! I'm sorry for the (very) late answer, these past few weeks have been a bit chaotic!

How many countries are there in your world? Feel free to dive into them as much/little as you want!

Since I'm working more on Of Starlight and Beasts I'll go with that WIP for this answer!

Well, the short version is... I'm not really that sure yet. What I mean by this is that I know the key locations where the story has taken place and will take place so far, but I also know that there's a whole continent of kingdoms, cities, and landscapes in the world the characters are in, and while those places exist in their world, they just haven't appeared in the actual story or been visited by the characters yet, but are mentioned.

Mostly, so far, the main countries/kingdoms that are extremely relevant to the story are the capital city of Tirawen, the former kingdom of Idraven (now conquered by the forces of the Crimson Queen), the provinces of Monbern, the vast landscape known as the Frosts, and the seaside city of Orloch - all which are part of the characters stories, journey and which hold the landscapes which are key parts of the trajectory of their quest. There will be more kingdoms and countries introduced later on, but these are the ones I've got so far!

Now, a little bit of quick lore about those cities:

Tirawen - This kingdom (whose capital city has the same name) rules over a large portion of the realm, its dynasty was known for upholding the current era of peace before the main conflicts of the book threw the world into chaos. Despite being a beautiful marble city known for being the melting pot of the realm, where different cultures could exist in harmony and where knowledge, arts, and magic could thrive, Tirawen also has a complicated/darker side. Beset by strange, ravenous beasts throughout the year, but most strongly during the dark winter months of the city, Tirawen's survival depends on the magic borders around the kingdom, which provide a defense system capable of keeping most of the beasts at bay. But the more distant from the capital, the less efficient the magic, since it is a limited resource - small backwater villages and faraway provinces are more at the mercy of the beasts, while the cities near the kingdom's heart/the capital rarely suffer great losses. But now, with the kingdom's protective magic waning - for reasons yet unknown, Tirawen faces the reality of a dire future that may put at risk its very survival.

Monbern - A duchy deep in the forests of the southern part of the kingdom. It was once one of the most powerful and rich places in the realm, nearly a sprawling merchant empire in a stone-built city, but when the ducal family was betrayed and the throne usurped, Monbern changed. It's sprawling merchant city gave way to one of the most infamous (and largest) black market trading outposts in the realm - with the crime lords being personal friends of the new Duke, having helped him come to power - and many loyalists to the former ducal family were either driven to exile or vanished (killed). The old city now lives under near militaristic oppression, with high taxes and threats, though those loyal to the "new duke" seem to suspiciously thrive. However, there's more to this province than meets the eye - underground, carved into the earth's stone, there are ancient fortresses and tunnels, where another city (reminiscent of the old Monbern) thrives right under the new Duke's watch, which is unaware of the existence of this secret part of the province.

Orloch - This city is home to the largest port in the realm, covering most of the kingdom's coast. It is ruled by a council of naval commanders who answer to the royal family of Tirawen, most notably to the King's sister-in-law, a former captain. It is responsible for trades between cities in the realm but also with cities beyond the sea. Many of the budding captains and commanders dream of reaching and exploring the mythical "Uncharted Lands" that lie beyond a sea of monstrous creatures and deathly enchanted fog that confuses the minds of sailors and drives them adrift forever.

The Frosts are an incredibly large expanse of land beyond the city of Tirawen, a frozen, landlocked desertic tundra in the heart of the continent. It is said that most non-humanoid dragons and giant serpents hail from these lands, and that magic is at its wildest here. The kingdoms within the Frosts are independent of Tirawen, though they hold diplomatic connections and trade relationships with that city, and its lands are divided between five matriarchal, ancient clans - which are said to be the only ones able to master the ginormous creatures of their land, and have existed long before Tirawen was even a village.

Idraven - It was once a "sibling kingdom" to Tirawen, before the two lands were divided into two, centuries ago. Idraven was a powerful kingdom with a warrior's culture and a strong connection to their kingdom's spiritual magic. It was separated from Tirawen by a vast mountain range and had cities nestled in the walls of the mountains and even within the rocks. After the kingdom politically "disappeared" two centuries ago it was said that Idraven fell to at the mysterious curse that was awakened and took hold of the mountains and forever locked Tirawen away from it. This is partially true, there was a curse, but Idraven was actually conquered and isolated by the forces of the Crimson Queen. Much of its population died in the brutal attack (either fighting against the Queen's forces or trying to run from it), and the ones remaining were enslaved by the Crimson Queen. It now looks more like the mix between a ghost town and a military outpost.

How many seasons are there in your world?

All my fantasy WIPs have the same Four Seasons as we do (mostly because that's a system that works and it would be too much additional work for me to great new seasons). At times, the length, characteristics, and strength of each season may vary in certain locations in each WIP, though!

[clumsydragon28]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

I received two of these messages so thank you to both anons 🥹

5) Hot (Shikajin Poem Fic - Rated T)

Out of all my published Shikajin poems, this one always sticks out to me. I was really pleased with the format/rhyme scheme, and it was also my first time writing from Inojin's perspective. What I find the most interesting is that I wrote the first and last stanzas before anything else. It was a fun experience to kinda puzzle piece the rest of the story around those two.

4) The Meeting Place (ShikaTema Poem Fic - Rated G)

This one holds a very special place in my heart. It was the first poem fic I ever wrote and I think it is my favorite ShikaTema focused fic, as well. On top of that, it was a gift for my dear friend Becks and to hear she loved it was just icing on top of the cake. It was the perfect beginning to my journey of combining my poetry with fanfiction, and I am so so grateful to Becks for giving me the prompts to do so.

3) Just Relax (ShikaTema and Shikadai One-Shot - Rated T)

This is without a doubt the best one-shot I have written. When I started writing fanfic, I let the excitement drive me. As soon as I came up with an idea, I wrote it. This one, however, I took my time with. I let it marinate a lot before I finished it. Many of the fics I wrote before this were more like "scene studies" where as this piece is a full story. It also has the most hits and kudos of anything else, and it's nice that my pride in this fic is echoed by its stats.

2) Plié-sed to Have Met You (SaiIno Multi-Chap - Rated M)

This fic is my heart and soul personified. It is a love letter to dance, a love letter to NY, and a love letter to myself. Writing this fic was so freeing and cathartic. On top of that, it surprised me with what I was able to accomplish. Knowing I've written this story inspires me to keep pushing myself. I look forward to the day where I am ready to write another multi-chap story and to write about Naruto/Boruto characters in a dance filled world again

1) Sunshine and Starlight (Shikajin Poem Fic - WIP)

I have not even finished this piece, but I know without a doubt it is going to my favorite thing I have ever written. I cannot thank the genius Bex enough for giving me the idea for this. Writing it makes me happy. Reading it makes me happy. Hell, just thinking about it gives me inexplicable joy. It captures everything I love about the written word. And so, I will leave you with this snip to tide you over until it is ready for the world to see:

Inojin was like a scene on the big screen: he had a sheen on his lips and a glean in his eyes, and to clean both away seemed mean and foul play.

[vacantgodling]

1, 6, 7, 43, 52 for the polycule asks!

thank you both for asking and for making all of these amazing ask games! i'm actually gonna be answering these for the main group of polycule ocs i have: the kiddos from celestial weddings

for the uninitiated; that wip is literally an excuse to make a giant poly with different wedding customs. there is technically a deeper plot but idc about it PFFFF i really just love them <3 most of the way i'll be answering these questions will actually be how they operate once the "main journey" of the story is over and once they settle into poly-dom lmao. BUT onto the questions tho:

1. How many members are in the polycule? How are they related to each other? Feel free to draw a flow chart!

so there are 9 (nine) members total of the polycule! they are:

celestial ruler, dagmar (he/they/she)

lilliabet (she/they)

izul (they/them)

vigustav (he/him)

muu (they/he/she)

zhujen (she/her)

almine (he/she)

rhohanen (they/he)

aenlin (he/they)

sorry this is a bit hard to read but it’s so hard to put everything into words LOL. they’re all in love tho

6. Where do each of the members land on the "solo poly" to "entwined poly" spectrum? & 7. Where do each of the members land on the "free agent" to "community oriented" spectrum?

due to the nature of being lovers to the celestial ruler/the celestial ruler and they oversee all the spheres etc, all of them are on the entwined side of poly; they make decisions as a group and everyone views each other as family/lovers/etc. this ties directly into 7 because all of them are community oriented. in general all of the spheres place a lot of value of a certain form of connectedness, for the sheer purpose of being able to have successful celestial unions to better guide all of the spheres. while all their cultures are different, they're all supposed to come together

43. Have cultural dynamics played a part in how the polycule operates?

so, in the unnamed universe of celestial weddings, each of the 8 spheres are all ruled under one celestial ruler, who has a council of 'lovers' made up of one chosen member from a royal family in each sphere (or culture).

here's the super long, fancy explanation i wrote awhile ago:

this land was created eons ago by a being known as THE CELESTIAL RULER. through the power of the stars, sacred magic, and the love and support of eight other stars, the eight realms or STAR-SPHERES were created. each sphere resembled the star that the ruler made it for, and each sphere was named for that very star: DATTENMAOW, MUKHIRU, VUKTER, DENJAI, GUANAI, ZALI, AERONWEN, and LESEDI.

once the land was made, the celestial ruler breathed life into it. the grasses began to sprout and trees began to bloom. animals of all shapes and colors rose from the ground. the land looked so inviting that little stars began to fall and populate the land; the first beings of the spheres.

they thanked the celestial ruler for the land’s hospitality and began to mingle. cultures began to rise, and intermix, and children were born. the land was coming to the ruler’s grand divination.

seeing that all was going according to the stars, the first celestial ruler had finished their long work of creation, they laid down to rest and eventually passed on; ascending the HEAVENLY STAIRWELL to return to the stars from whence they came. the place where they rested in the middle of the spheres became known as THE CELESTIAL CITY or THE GATEWAY TO HEAVEN. the first ruler never returned to the land they created.

BUT, their spirit was to return; to be reborn among the people of the spheres, in order to guide them in a glorious, harmonious existence; precious specks of glorious starlight. this spirit needed to be found, to be honed, and be ascended.

who better to find the spirit of the celestial ruler, than the eight lovers who inspired the land itself; and they became known as THE COUNCIL OF LOVERS, their duty to inspire and empower a ruling celestial, and find the divination of their new spirit once their current intonation passed on.

8 HOPEFULS found to possess immense amounts of starlight were plucked, one from each sphere, each to find the eight LOVERS who should stand by their side, one from the royal family of each sphere. they would be tested and judged, and their capabilities measured, until one who’s fate was written among the stars stood before the council accompanied by those who were divined to lead it with them. the hopeful who succeeded these trials would ascend.

thus, THE JOURNEY OF THE HOPEFULS was forged, and its legacy set in stone, to carry on for millennia after the first ruler was long gone

####

as the celestial ruler is a being imbued with the powerful and destructive creational power of the cosmos, a new celestial ruler must be chosen carefully. so carefully in fact, that their fate is already written among the stars themselves. the LOVERS of the previously passed celestial ruler are tasked with finding candidates who are imbued with EVER-PRESENT STARLIGHT, and each sphere will have one candidate chosen each, that has the most of it within that sphere. once 8 HOPEFULS are selected, they are whisked away to the celestial city, where each is paired with a LOVER to guide them in their training for 27 years.

after they are fully trained in the ways and rites of a ruler, they are sent sphere by sphere to woo potential lovers from the royal families of each sphere. all royal families have 8 children, or choose 8 candidates to stand in as royal children should they not have enough born, or the children that are currently in line are too young (under 20 star cycles) to be considered. the hopefuls should chose their lovers based on connection- for the celestial ruler’s fate has already been written, and as such, a hopeful should connect with the partner of their choice, and they are to be wed according to the customs of each sphere, before the hopefuls alone, as a party, move on to the next sphere.

once they travel through each of the eight spheres, they will stand before the current COUNCIL OF LOVERS and their abilities, as well as their choices in marriage will be judged. the council will look at how their journey has matured their EVER-PRESENT STARLIGHT and whosoever’s fate matches the stars will ascend and become the celestial ruler. then the lover’s council will be occupied by their wedded lovers until their time too eventually comes.

so long story short: the main overarching culture of being apart of the celestial ruler story (tm) is what influences how their polycule operates. they're guiders of the spheres first and lovers second, and there's nothing to say that they HAVE to be romantically involved. i personally as a writer like romance, so dag's cylce is full of romance; however, other rulers and lovers have been varying from just coworkers to certain lovers are married and others are single etc etc. the only thing they can't do is bear children nor have close personal relationships (basically affairs) outside of their lovers--though keeping contact with family from their homeland is encouraged.

all the spheres have a generally accepted level of polyamory but the celestial ruler is a completely different situation. one day i'll break down the worldbuilding of each individual sphere more but not today LMAO.

52. How well do the matamours get along? Do they even know each other?

well at first all of them were metamours; dag was essentially the central spoke of the relationship (as the celestial ruler) and the other 8 were those he married, one from each sphere, to ascend the celestial throne. they all didn't know each other until dag was officially crowned it was then that they all met. this is heavy asterisk for aenlin; he knew all of the others because he was originally a hopeful like dag, but knew he had no chance of becoming the celestial ruler since he's of the royal family of lesedi; being as such that he can't marry one of his siblings and he can't take over his own sphere as the second born, it kind of put him in a rock and a hard place. at least until, he realized that he was the final "correct" partner for dag and eventually accepted it. so, aside from aenlin and dag, the rest of them didn't know each other and now were tasked with essentially ruling the world together for however many centuries. there was a lot of politeness and awkwardness at first, especially from those like izul (who is generally more reserved), and almine (who can be quite intimidating) and rhohanen (a fucking brat LMAO). but as years go by, they all settle not only into their roles, but into loving dag, and then being able to get to know one another not just as strangers but eventual lovers of each other as well.

so tldr; they all start as metamours of dag, but then melt into a full blown 9 way poly lol where everyone is dating/married to each other tm.

[welcomingdisaster]

How do you think your smut writing has evolved?

Share a summary of, or excerpt from, an unpublished smut fic.

Share a smutty headcanon about Indis.

hi hi hi!

How do you think your smut writing has evolved?

Having re-read some of my old smut for this: I think I was a lot more focused on linear progressions and body-actions when I started? Now I'm a lot more confident with just letting characters fuck in stops and starts, if that's what they need to do, and focus more on thought/connection/mind-stuff than I used to.

I think my sex scenes used to be veeery short and are slowly getting longer. Though I still feel like the fucking takes up. Only like 25% of my smutfics usually.

Also, for some reason, I used to write a lot of blowjobs. Totally burned out on it now. No one blow anyone, that's over.

Share a summary of, or excerpt from, an unpublished smut fic.

Here's something from that smutfic WIP that outgrew its original intent and will probably need 3-5 chapters to be fully realized! Nienor/Finduilas and/or Nienor/Gil-galad (they are the same person in this).

Now she turns to the fire, her eyes on the single curling strand of silver on the elf’s cheek. 

“Who cut your hair?” she asks. 

“I did,” the elf says, “some little while before I found you.” 

Úmarthiel pictures it, despite herself. Still now the elf can barely use his right arm, and they have journeyed together for some weeks. He must have had to hold the strands taut between his knees, or else in his teeth, hacking at them with the hunting-knife he carries. 

No wonder the cuts are so jagged. 

“Why?” she asks. “You would not cut mine.” 

“In mourning,” the elf-lord says, “in grief.���

“Your city,” Úmarthiel says, certain now, though she knows not how. 

The elf lord nods. Behind his mask he is horribly beautiful; sharp points of starlight catch in his dark-brown eyes. Under the helm his lips are chapped and lily-bloom pink. She wonders if he would taste of apple blossoms if she kissed him. She wonders if he would taste of blood. 

“What did you lose there?” Úmarthiel asks. 

The elf-lord’s voice is so faint she thinks she might imagine it. “My heart,” he says, “my heart.” 

She raises a hand to his chest. Presses her fingers against it, her fingers splayed out. For a moment she believes his words as literal truth; for a moment his ribcage is empty under fingers. But then comes the beating, the thudding of the elf’s heart. 

Úmarthiel presses her lips to the little stretch of skin bared between the elf’s fur cloak and too-big bliaut, to the dip of the elf’s pale collarbone. 

“You know not what you do,” the elf-lord says, not unkindly, and tips up her chin, “you not know who I am.” 

Let me, Úmarthiel wants to beg, let me, star-crowned. 

That night she sleeps there, curled against the elf-lord’s chest, and his hand does not slip from her hair. 

:)

[odysseywritings]

Desolation

@flashfictionfridayofficial

The obelisks made their mark on the land. Everything under their weight turned to sterile roads. Highways formed for the leisure of these weaponized castles while plants and soil suffered. Valleys of green grass, purple and violet flowers, and century old trees mulched to make way for uniform horizons of pristine gray from every direction.

Haven and Reina were too late to do anything. Both felt their hearts shrivel, and Reina trembled and leaned into Haven, and he softened as she stared into the endless sea of monochrome. His mind went to solutions like breaking and blowing up the roads. But that had to wait until Reina regained a foothold.

It seemed pointless to trek on without a plan so they headed toward the perimeter looking for any ends. No matter where they looked, the place was the death of nature. This would happen to their own homes.

Haven raised his hand, wrote out words in his head, and pointed at the direction of a spot. His hand turned into a cybernetic, beastly paw that shot blue energy at it. A hole was made but it only revealed more of the same hard substance albeit darker. Reina chided him to not waste power in this desolation. They needed to save everything for this travel without a clear end.

They wandered further to the brim to find signs of life. They had never been without flora or water this long and they worried about nourishment and sanity. They were the only organisms for miles.

In their sights at least. Behind them, the hole from Haven's blast cracked enough for the lingering crust to be exposed. The energy seeped into the soil but only time would tell if a flower may bloom.

[thewizardtower]

Good morning, it's apparently time for me to start a new WIP. A conversation with friends this morning made me think about a young priest falling in love with a mermaid.

It was about a fortnight into our journey when first I saw her.

It was night–cloudless and clear–and I was the only soul on the upper deck to stroll 'neath the stars. Waves lapped at the sides of the massive ship that bore us to our destination. A rhythmic cadence of water that reminded me quite keenly of all the tales I'd heard as a boy about what lurked in the dark fathoms below the ocean's surface: great beasts made of tentacles and teeth and malice. 'Twas not something a godly man should ponder, yet I found myself drawn to wondering what else could be rapping against the hull of the Rosy Maiden.

Staring out at the dark waves was when I saw the crest of what appeared to be a head–a ripple of something breaking the surface–before it was gone. I pressed myself against the wooden railing of the Maiden, scanning the ocean frantically. My first thought was that one of the crew had fallen overboard. Panic gripped my throat. I could not swim–could not even offer a helping hand if someone had fallen into the sea. The cry for help formed in my chest, yet stopped before it could escape my lips.

That same head peaked up once more. Hair like spun gold crowned her; black, star-painted waters were her robes. Pale skin–almost silver in the starlight–reflected like fish scales. She was too far away for me to glean anything else, yet I saw she gazed at me, and I gazed back, in a small moment that seemed to stretch for eons. I had thought, then, that her face looked human enough. (I know now she was anything but.) I wanted to scream–to yell for the crew to rescue a drowning woman in the water–when I saw she was nothing of the sort. Just as quickly as she surfaced, she submerged once more. In her wake was the inaudible splash of a silvery fish tail.

[jillybean-seighdrasov]

A List of Fan Fic Writer Asks

(This is someone else’s created list, I lost the creators name) 

1.     Share a song that makes you think of [fic title]

There are a lot of songs that fit my characters, but I haven’t put much thought into title. Anchor by Skillet.  Open Arms by Journey are two.

2.     Do you read/reread your own fics?

I do just to see how I’ve changed over the years.

3.     What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Stardust and The Crow. I’ve been writing fanfic for 34 years and this one I think is my best.

4.     How many WIPs do you have right now?

I have 3.

5.     What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Anytime I’ve come up with an idea I usually write it down, finish no, but at least start it.

6.     Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Not really.  

7.     How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

A lot, but not sure I will ever share them.

8.     What project(s) are you currently working on?

Stardust and The Crow, We’ll Take the Stars and Starlight Corvid.

9.     Do you write every day?  If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written!

Yes, I do write every day.   “Not sure, but it seems you have been granted access in the restrictive zones in the Vex Network.”  “You mean I might have to go back in there?”

 10.Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Yes.

11.Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

Kind of.  A few musicians that really it when I am writing.

12.Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)?  Share it!

 13.How much planning do you do before writing?

There is a little, but a lot of the planning comes along as I write.  I have notes to where I would like it to lead, my characters, places, songs, etc.

 14.If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Stardust and The Crow

15.How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

One is their names(nickname) The others I tried to find something that matched the story.

16.At what point in the process do you come up with titles?

I think I was a chapter in to all three before I came up with the names.

17.What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

That there really isn’t a lot in the Lore to go on when trying to find information about places or the events that went on.  I have had to make up so much of it that isn’t gameplay, cutscenes or Lore.

18.What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

“Have I ever died on you? Wait, please, don’t answer that.”

19.Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

We’ll Take the Stars  This hasn’t been posted yet

Jolyon stepped forward “Uldwyn slept with my sister, ma’am.  I was upset – I mean I am upset with him.”

“Uldwyn?” Osana said in shock.

“Seighdra” Ausha said upset. Seighdra raised her eyes to her mother.

“Before we get into this, boys the fighting needs to stop.  What you did Jolyon, was out of line.  Do it on your own time, not during sparing matches.  Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am” Jolyon answered.

“Yes, captain” Uldwyn responded.

“Now, Jolyon, people have choices of their own free will.  We do not order others around, even if they are our own family. Understand?”  Captain Alice informed him.

“Yes, understood” he said feeling like a beaten dog.

“You are dismissed” she then told him.

“But, what about…”

“Jolyon, go” his mother spoke up.

“Fine!” he said.  He glared at Uldwyn as he faced him as he left. Uldwyn had a startled look.

When the captain was sure Jolyon had left, she began.  “What you two do on your own time is none of my business, but when it filters out to my crew then it becomes my business.”

“I didn’t filter this out to the crew” Seighdra stated harshly, “nor did Uldwyn!”

“Seighdra!” her mother said sharply.  

“No mom!  I am not going to take blame for something Jolyon started.  This was between Uldwyn and me and Jolyon hung it up for everyone to see!”

“Seighdra” the captain said calmly.  “Yes, what Jolyon did was out of line and I’m sorry for that, but your actions caused his outburst.”

Seighdra was in shock. She was being punished for Jolyon’s outburst.  “Mom!” she protested.

“You are 17 years old!”

“I’ll be 18 next week! This is so unfair.  I didn’t want to come on this stupid ship, but here I am. I don’t like having Jolyon dictate my life, but again, here we are…

“I don’t want a pregnant teenage daughter.”  Ausha interrupted.

Seighdra’s mouth hung open, then she closed it.  She hadn’t even thought about that.  She and Uldwyn shared a worried look.

“So, you didn’t use protection Uldwyn?”  his mother said disappointedly.  

He rubbed his neck with his free hand, the other still laced with Seighdra’s “Uh, no” he said sheepishly.

“Seighdra, what have I told you?” her mother conjected.

“Actually, mother, nothing. Sex was never your topic.  You left that for Jolyon to explain to me and he basically told me to never have sex.”  Seighdra tilted her head and smirked.

The Captain and Osana both looked at Ausha.

“You never wanted a daughter. I was a disappointment to you.”

20.What’s a favorite title for a fic you’ve written?

I don’t really have a favorite.  They all mean something to me with my characters.

21.Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it?  If so, why?

Kind of.  I am pretty old school so I hand write everything out first and if I don’t like something I will just not type it up.

22.Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

There is only one that has an ending.  The others follow a video game that is currently active.

23.How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)?

Sometimes an ending just happens and sometimes it take planning.  I usually try to find a break in the events happening in my story.

24.Share a moodboard for (one of) your current WIP(s).

 25.Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?

Yes.  I can feel the emotions of my characters.  I am a very immersive writer.

26.Is there something you’ve written that you would never want your family to see?

No, my husband and kids have read my stuff.  Actually, maybe stuff I wrote when I was 14.  That stuff was bad.  Just horrible writing.  Ha ha ha

27.Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share?  Why?

Yes.  All of them.  I have been working on them for two years.  Again, remember I handwritten everything first.  So, one day I decided to start typing mine up, in the hopes of posting it one day.  Last May when I found a specific website after reading some other writers works, I got the nerve to post mine.  

28.Have you ever tagged a fic “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat”?

no

29.Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic.  (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

“She’s back with him?  Shawn asked Devin.  “Yes, but it’s not our place to get involved.”  Devin answered back.  “Like hell it’s not!  He hurt her twice.  I’m not going to watch him do it again.” Devin responded back to his friend.  “Just leave her alone right now.”  Devin said sternly to him, “We’ll talk with her after the party.  Alright?”

[odysseywritings]

For another spooky season go, I made Halloween hcs for Haven and Reina

Haven: Eclectic styles going from anything to a werewolf, a reptile being, space cowboy, mountain man detective, and anything homemade if possible. Despite anxiety, he likes going out to haunted houses for thrills and adventures, and also to find spirits and ghouls.

Reina: More conventionally dark outfits like vampire, plague doctor, apparitions from different cultures in her upbringing (eg, a counterpart to Hachishaku), or from media (eg, a counterpart to Carrie White in fake blood). Would be the one mostly to decorate the place with all the needed accessories and music to scare trick or treaters.

Both: Either going up as joint characters (counterparts to the Addams, or Frankenstein and Bride), or completely different characters for the fun of it (counterparts to Ghoulface and Garfield). Both do like traveling at night together as well as haunted house visits and decorating, though in varying degrees.

Trick or Treat 🍬🎃 @odysseywritings

I pick trick!!! 🎃 @odysseywritings

[eternal-shiva]

~friendship~ by Final-shiva

[curiouselleth]

WIP Wednesday Friday

Thanks for the tag @dreamingthroughthenoise!

From Veil of Starlight, my Elured is Gil-galad fic! This is an oswane-happening-in-dreams type conversation between Elured and Elurin.

---

“How fares your journey, brother?”

“Sirion has swelled with floods, there is no crossing. I travel North at dawn, to pass over the Gates of Sirion,” he replied.

He could feel Elurin’s concern twist around him restlessly, “are you sure? That is a long way, you do not have to do this, not alone. If you stay there for a few days perhaps I can catch up and we can go together?”

“I can do it. Please, stay in the forest with Gwingloth. She is not fully recovered no matter how much she may deny it, and you have more skill in healing than myself or any of the avari. She needs you. And I’m your older brother, I can do this.” He wanted to, had to. Had to see if their sister lived yet. 

“Just because you are mere minutes older, does not mean you have to bear this alone,” Elurin’s concern remained, but was now vibrantly colored by love as his fëa swirled around.

“I know, brother, I know. I just feel as though… this is something I have to do, I am fated for. I do not know what awaits me at the Havens, but something does, and I have to find it.”

“That may be,” Elurin deflated a little, “but after you find it, come back. You promised.” Elurin’s fëa gently brushes him, and fades back into the waking world, out of their small world of dreams. 

Elured lingered a little longer yet. They had never been so far apart, and he feared that if they were much farther they would not be able to walk in their dreams and visions together. To be disconnected from each other in such a way, Elured feared that he would become lost as a boat tossed in a raging storm. 

But slowly the sun began to peer over the blue mountains, and it was time. He drifted back to waking.

[dialux]

congratulations on your wedding! finwë headcanons, if you have any? and/or sentences from the 4th page of a wip👀

Thank you!! Also, yk, Finwe’s been the character that I’ve spent the past 2.5 yrs wrestling w to understand bc he isn’t a /villain/ but he isn’t a /hero/ and also what do you call a guy that completely tears his family apart w bad decisions and precipitates multiple massacres??? A patriarch??????

So anyways what I’m trying to say is that you chose the one character I probs would’ve found the most difficult to analyze! Which is why this is a) so long and also b) took so long. Warnings below for... pregnancy, non-graphic birth scene, the whole miriel sich, suicidal thoughts, suicide, convoluted discussions of freedom/safety/life etc etc etc.

Hope you enjoy <333

...

When Finwe is born, he looks up at a sky full of stars and calls it glorious.

...

He has no parents. He has no siblings: Finwe was born alone. He joins the largest group that he finds, and is led by Tata for many, many long years. But there is disquiet in Finwe's heart. Not the disquiet of horror, or the disquiet of fear: the disquiet of ambition. Finwe loved Tata. He loves Tatie, and he loves the rest as well; he loves his people. He would never wish harm on them.

But still it sits in his gut, in his chest, in his throat.

(Never does he let it reach his tongue.)

(That, unfortunately, is a lie.)

He could be better. He could do better. His people could do better.

Surely there is more to life than this quiet whittling deathful existence! Surely there is more that can be done! Surely the Allfather wished for more for them: they are his creatures, they are his beloved children, surely there is more-

...

When Orome comes to them, gleaming as nothing Finwe has ever seen before, everything becomes very clear to him.

...

Before all of that, though, there is Miriel.

She is lovely, yes, but she is more than that: she is the one person that Finwe trusts, fully and completely, absolutely and entirely. She knows his opinions. She knows what he dreams of. When Orome offers to take them to Valinor- when nobody else stands up, when no other elf is willing to plunge headfirst into the unknown- Finwe looks to her.

Miriel is not his wife. Not yet. But her hair catches the starlight, and the weave of the aspen across the crown of her skull looks like molten silver.

Her eyes shine brighter than her hair, and Finwe finds the strength to stand, and to speak.

...

(Later, he goes to her. Tries to apologize. Miriel touches his brow, and then his lips, and Finwe falls silent.

"Go," she says to him. "Find the beating of your heart, Finwe. I will be here when you return.")

...

And Miriel keeps her promises.

...

She is there when he returns from Valinor, glowing and different, and for the first time in the journey Finwe considers that he might have lost something in his quest for safety and security. But then Miriel tilts her head up to look at him, and he can see his own glowing eyes in her silver ones, and Finwe wants, for the first time in his life, something more than to save his people.

They wed that very night.

That is the happiest night of his life.

...

...that’s one way to put it.

Another way to put it: it’s all downhill from there.

...

They start fighting when he tells Miriel, still drowsy and sated, about the details of their agreement with the Valar. And they don’t stop fighting. Half the time they manage to sublimate it in- other- ways. The other half...

The other half, Finwe sets up a dueling system. A circle. Rules: no permanent damage, is the major one. Letting someone yield out, is a second one. How winning the duel affects whether someone’s right or not is far more complex, and takes a while to iron out to perfection, but eventually they get it down to an art. He and Miriel use it the most often, but there are others too, for a variety of reasons, and it’s quickly obvious that Finwe’s managed to fill a much-needed niche in their community.

...

It’s fun, above and beyond being useful, to spar and duel and fight it out.

But- Valar above- they’re doing it so often, nowadays, that Finwe wonders if there’s a reason for it.

...

(When he asks Miriel, his wife kisses him quiet. She holds him tight, so tight in her long, slim fingers, and she kisses him like the rushing waves of the sea, swallowing and being swallowed in turn. Finwe can read her grief and her shock in the kiss: he softens, and answers his wife’s despair with his own surety. Not from me, he says without words. Not from me shall we be sundered.)

...

And then they arrive in Valinor, and everything gleams and glows and is good.

For a time, everything is so, so good.

...

But there are whispers of unhappiness.

Discontent.

Miriel tells him of them, night after night, whispering the stories into his ear: of gold light that blurs unhappiness, of silver glows that smudges the shining piercing point of grief. She kisses him. She loves him. She will not stop speaking-

“I am King,” Finwe tells her helplessly. “You should not speak to me of these things.”

And Miriel- always pale, always pale and exquisitely fine as the thinnest links of a silver chain- flushes a bright, furious red.

“Whom else should I speak to, then?” she asks sharply. “You are my husband, you are my heart, you are my king- whom else-”

“-I can do nothing! What use is it, to- to- to say these things, constantly, to notice them, to incite them-”

“-as if this has its roots in me opening my eyes and seeing-”

“-no,” says Finwe wearily. “It has its roots in my decision, does it not? To agree with their treaty. To abide by their treaty.” He swipes at his hair, then approaches, and kneels before Miriel. Clasps her hands in his own, and does not look away from the liquid shine of her eyes. “This treaty saved our lives,” he tells her, begs her, begs her, begs her. “All of us that came- it meant a long, slow and whittling-down life in Cuivienen. All of us that came have come to this land, where we need not suffer that kind of fear.”

Miriel bends forward, so that her forehead knocks against Finwe’s own, so that her loose hair spills around them like a cloud turned to shining metal.

“You once dreamed of things greater than anyone else I ever knew,” she whispers. “But now... I do not know where those dreams have gone. Where is your courage?”

“We have reached those dreams,” says Finwe. “We have touched them, swallowed them, lived them.”

“You have not swallowed your dream,” says Miriel, quiet as death, before she turns away. “You have been swallowed by it.”

...

There is a quiet, seething guild in Tirion now: a growing number that wear a loom on a pendant, the loom that Finwe built for Miriel with his own two hands. It might have been a romantic gesture if Finwe did not know what they represented.

As it is...

“What have they not given that we owe?”

“Freedom,” says Miriel. Her hands do not stop their motion upon the loom, deft and swift. Her hair is braided sweetly, like she is a child amid the beech-trees of a lakeshore once again, not a queen of the Noldor. “Tell me, my lord: what if we were to do something that the Valar disapproved of? How quickly shall they revoke your authority?”

“I think that it depends on the depth of their disapproval,” says Finwe slowly.

“But you think it was worth it, still,” she says. “To come so far. To come here.”

“I don’t know what you remember of Cuivienen,” says Finwe, “but it was no paradise. We lived in fear. We lived in darkness and grief, and it was no place of plenty, or joy.”

“It was no paradise,” Miriel replies steadily, “but it was a place of freedom, if nothing less, was it not?”

“Freedom! Under Tata’s yoke, under Manwe’s- what does it matter!” Finwe growls when Miriel turns to look at him, finally, startled at his sharp surge in temper. “And before the paltry differences you will name- that I know you will name!- I will answer you: freedom lived under the shadow of death, of starvation, of disappearance- that is no freedom at all!”

“But where shall we go now?” asks Miriel, voice infuriatingly even for all that her cheeks are flush and bright. “There was a chance by that lake for us to do what we wished, to defy Tata and flee into another land, to take our future in our two hands and walk into the brilliant horizon. But here there is nothing: there is no one, only the Valar, in the air, in the water, in the soil beneath our feet. Even dying, even dead- they are always there, and will never leave, and have offered us no path to leave. You have led us into a lion’s den, placed our backs to the wall, and asked us to be grateful for it!”

“Between freedom and life,” says Finwe quietly, “I know which I choose.”

“As do I,” says Miriel, and touches the still uncurved- but growing- flat of her belly. She does not wear a crown any longer, his wife, but her hair still shines like one. “As do I,” she says again, voice wobbling, and now it sounds like a deathknell, though Finwe does not know for what.

...

Miriel is the one person that Finwe trusts wholly. He doesn't know when she stopped returning that to him.

Later, with a distant, distinct sense of horror, he realizes: he’d sworn it to her. But she had never promised it back.

...

As her pregnancy continues, Miriel grows quieter. Her eyes become larger, until she looks almost insect-like, all reflective surfaces and skin pulled taut. Her belly swells into something incongruously large compared to her slender hips and narrow build; it unbalances her, and she loathes it for all that she never speaks to Finwe of any of it.

One night, he wakes to see her on their balcony, peering out at something he cannot see. The silver light of Telperion looks like it’s set her aflame: like she’s turned to a living statue.

“I know his name, now,” says Miriel. She sounds like she’s been crying. Finwe wraps his arms around her, and she tips her head back against his chest. “He will be beautiful. I dreamed- I dreamed of him, tonight, and I know now.”

“Of course he will be beautiful,” murmurs Finwe. “He is your son. Miriel. He is our son.”

“He will have your eyes,” she says. “He will have your hair. He will- be loved, by so many, for so long. He will be the greatest of us all. The brightest of us all.”

“We will love him until the end of the world.”

“He will shine so bright,” she whispers, and reaches out: not to the stars above them, burning with eldritch, Valarin heat, but the red brazier set on their balcony for heat and bare light. “So bright,” whispers Miriel, and she is crying again, and Finwe knows it to be with joy, knows it can be nothing else, but still cannot explain the pang of his heart at the words.

...

When she births him, she refuses to allow anyone not of a small coterie of advisors into the room.

Finwe doesn’t understand why Miriel is so strict about it until she does not recover from the birth- only going paler, insubstantial as paper- and he asks for healers, and she refuses them entry. It had been a diplomatic way of keeping the maiar away from her son, he realizes: a subtle enough method if everything were to go well, but glaringly obvious under the current circumstances. Her stubbornness takes Finwe days to overcome, and she only does after she names her son in the proper manner: Feanaro, she says, fiercely, furiously, before finally allowing her ladies to take him away and surrendering to the ministrations of Este’s maiar.

Not that they can do much. Miriel slips into fever, then into hallucinations. She refuses sleeping draughts for as long as she can; Finwe finally pours them down her throat, incapable of seeing her struggle to maintain the queenly mask over her obvious exhaustion and agony. Into the blessed silence that follows, he takes the rest to name his son: Curufinwe, for the skill he hopes the boy inherits from his mother.

But Miriel does not get better, after that.

...

The maiar can do little more in Tirion. They want her to go to Lorien, to be treated by Irmo and Este, and to that Miriel flatly refuses.

“Do not take me there,” she tells Finwe, voice so sharp it scores across his skin like a knife. For once, her eyes are alive: are bright. “If I am there- I know I will not get better. I promise you that.”

But there are no other choices: the Valar convince him of it. Miriel will pass in Tirion, soon, if nothing is done. The only chance she has is in Lorien. And so they go there, and Miriel does not speak, only stares up at the sky that holds the stars that they cannot see in Valinor. She holds her son sometimes, when she has enough strength, but even that has become an ordeal now: she weeps tears that shine like molten silver whenever she looks into his eyes.

She refuses to look into Finwe’s eyes.

When they arrive in Lorien, she settles under the quiet leaves and pillows her head as the maiar advise, and then reaches for Finwe.

“My pain is my own,” she says. “The Valar can do nothing to save me: all they can do is blunt it, by making me feel it less. But to make it feel less, they will blunt all of it: my griefs, my memories, my loves. My love for you: my love for him. And that, I will not allow.”

“So you will die?” demands Finwe. “You have me, you have a son-”

“You have led us into a lion’s den and asked us to be grateful,” says Miriel, and her hand curves over Finwe’s jaw, gentle as fresh-grown petals of a flute-flower.  “But, my love, you have not stripped us of our spears.”

“What does that mean?”

“That we have some measure of will left to us,” says Miriel. “I love you. I love Feanaro, too: so, so very much. But do not ask this of me. I cannot give it to you.”

“Miriel,” he says helplessly, and she kisses him, on the mouth, a kiss that tastes of salt and silver and song: a kiss that tastes like a goodbye: a kiss that tastes of death.

...

Little Feanaro throws himself upon his mother’s pyre. Finwe saves him- he wasn’t in the fire for long enough to even scorch his clothes- but the terror of it sits high on Finwe’s brow, that he might lose both wife and son to the same blazing fury and surety of their convictions.

When he sees Indis upon a mountain, dancing like a swan amid rain and whirling dust, the grief-heavy thud of his heart lifts to see her joy. It is the memory of Feanaro’s blood-certainty and Miriel’s blazing convictions that spurs him to speak to her, but it is her determined, unyielding laughter that makes him ask for her hand. A gentle hand to guide my son, he thinks, and petitions the Valar for a new wife: someone that will be softer, someone that will be kinder. Someone who loves loudly and speaks quietly.

He will not lose Indis, Finwe knows. Miriel burned so bright she burned herself out, but Indis’ candle is in her steadiness, not her brightness. It is something of a relief.

...

And then Feanaro finds out about the entire proceedings, and it is not a relief any longer: it is a mess, a tangled, exasperating, hurtful mess.

...

Things eventually die down- Finwe smooths things over as much as he can- and he has a daughter, then a son, then a daughter, then a son- Feanaro has a wife, and sons himself, and on, on, on-

Quiet joy, steady joy: complicated loyalties and vicious loves, but still joy at the end of the day, bright as the stars and just as uncountable.

...

Then Feanaro holds a sword to Nolofinwe’s throat, and the Valar decide to banish him, and Finwe is left to remember Miriel, hands tangled in her loom, eyes wide and shining: You have led us into a lion’s den, she had said, and it had not been an accusation from her lips, but he cannot unhear it now.

What if we were to do something that the Valar disapproved of? asks Miriel’s ghost. She does not laugh at him, but it is more humiliating, to see how she does not need to do even that to be accurate from beyond the grave. How quickly shall they revoke your authority?

“He is your son,” whispers Finwe.

Our son. And we will love him until the end of the world.

“I do not know what to do.”

We have some measure of will left to us.

“I love him. But I love all of them. I can’t choose-”

Between freedom and life, I know what I choose.

“The Loom Guild is disbanded. They disbanded when you died. They quieted down with no leader and no voice. There is no danger in Tirion, but if they think Feanaro is a new leader-”

You led us into a lion’s den, says Miriel’s sweet voice, sweet as a lily is poisonous, but you did not strip us of our spears or our teeth.

...

Finwe goes to Formenos with Feanaro.

...

It works, for a time. Feanaro calms down; he goes to the reconciliation with his brother. Finwe remains behind in Formenos to wrangle the threads of the Loom Guild without his son’s too-sharp eyes watching him. And he would have succeeded, he thinks later, if not for Morgoth.

But Morgoth does come, and Finwe commands everyone- including the Loom Guild- to flee, and goes to meet Morgoth alone, sword in hand. When he steps out of the home to confront Morgoth, the shining silver of Telperion has faded into utter darkness. The only lights are the stars.

When he’d woken in Cuivienen, Finwe had looked up at the stars and called them glorious. For the largest portion of his life, the stars had been invisible. Now, he looks up at them and remembers- Miriel, Indis, his burning blazing brilliant children.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he can feel the thrum of his heart. The sharp, clean terror; the bright, humming joy. His sword is a line of silver in his hand. Morgoth is a roiling cloud, bearing down on him like an avalanche.

I do not know where your dreams have gone, she had said. Where is your courage?

Right here, thinks Finwe, and goes to meet the inevitable.

...

For the largest portion of his life, the stars were invisible.

Finwe dies looking up at them.