#Gondolin OT3

[runawaymun]

Some time later, Idril said, "My love, will you come outside? The Moon has risen, and shines his rays upon the snow on this clear night. I think we should see it, and greet the new year together." "We will keep you warm," Maeglin assured him. Idril took her great ice-blue cloak from where it hung on a peg and draped it upon Tuor, then took up one side and covered Maeglin with it, and with the other side covered herself. "There," said she. "We will be just fine." Tuor took both their hands as they went out into the cold, but with them on either side of him he barely felt the chill. The moonlight illuminated the snow-covered gardens and made all things glow, but he could hardly spare the sky a glance, when the brightest stars already had their arms around him.

Beauty O'er-Snowed, by @jaz-the-bard

Thank you for commissioning this piece, Jaz!!! I had so much fun working on it and getting to draw these three (especially Idril's HAIR). I'm so fucking weak for them and how you write the three of them together. <3 <3 <3

#commissions #my art #jazthebard #gondolin ot3 #tfog #the fall of gondolin #tolkien fanart #maeglin #idril #tuor #click for better quality bc tumblr is a hungry eldritch being that consumes pixels

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Pretty Lies

It's Gondolin OT3, so it's @jaz-the-bard :p

I am afraid that, by the nature of the prompt, this is not an entirely happy ficlet :s I hope you can forgive me <3

Characters: Idril x Tuor x Maeglin

Words: 1 840

Warnings: lies, well-meant and otherwise, mental pain, anguish, imminent doom

Idril knew that something was wrong.

She would never have told him as much, but Maeglin—Twilight son of her father’s sister—was much less mysterious than he might have thought.

Of course, he had not gotten to know his extended family, so he had no idea how much of his grandfather and his uncles were inscribed in his face, his gestures, and his movements.

She, on the other hand, remembered—she had been but a child, swaddled in her mother’s arms, but she recalled her father’s brothers perfectly—the heroic, often silly stories, the warmth of their love, and their roaring laughter—as well as she remembered Maeglin’s mother.

“Cousin,” she said now, trying hard to break through the armour of compounded grief and hardened resentment. “You know that you can talk to me, don’t you?”

A part of her wanted to reach out, yearning to cup that pallid cheek in a poor imitation of her mother’s grace and generosity. Still, she didn’t dare—too fierce was the fire burning in the other’s unfathomable eyes and the cruel twitch of his sensual lips he tried to dissimulate.

“I know,” he replied, but there was a hint of mockery—twisting like a knife in her heart—colouring his voice.

Idril flinched back as if feeling the sting of his rejection like a physical blow.

“There is nought that should preoccupy you, Princess.”

It took a moment until Idril could identify the sickly, sinking feeling in her chest—Maeglin was lying to her, and he was not even really trying to hide that fact. It seemed to her that a part of him wanted her to know.

Before her ire, tinged with an almost puerile feeling of betrayal, could overwhelm her and make her say things she would not be able to take back, she forced herself to remember that she was her father’s daughter and heir—she had to rise to the occasion with as much grace as she could muster even as her heart broke.

Breathing in and out slowly, she stared at the stranger who had his uncle’s smile and his grandfather’s frown, seeking a way to connect with him.

Had she suspected that he might react positively to such a confession, she would have offered him all her most precious memories as a token of goodwill and kinship—more yet, she would have laid that part of her heart that was duty and loyalty at his feet to soothe them, sore and weary as they were from running from she knew not what terrible threat.

“Please,” she breathed instead. “I see that you are suffering, share your burden with me,” she wanted to cry, but she was too afraid that her words would be met with scorn once more. “Something seems to be troubling you.”

“If you say so.” It was not a concession—it was a doleful accusation. She had heard these very words drip like poison and be flung like arrows from the lips of her ancestors, and she hated herself for finding echoes Finwë’s tired overindulgence, Fingolfin’s affectionate permissiveness, and her own father’s pained stoicism in her own demeanour.

As tears burned in her eyes, she reached deep into her soul to find her mother—warm and brave—but there were only the ashes of Turgon’s inconsolable silence where she sought to find Elenwë’s reassuring smile.

“Please, do not worry on my account,” Maeglin pleaded darkly.

“What are you not saying?” she thought, sadness overshadowing her dying wrath. His words tingled like a warning instead of settling like a blanket of comfort around her heaving shoulders.

“As you wish,” she said tonelessly, her voice cold, her face motionless. “Tuor is awaiting me—you know where to find us, should you change your mind.”

“Are you well, my love?” Tuor asked softly.

“Of course,” his love, his shining miracle, replied in a voice and inflexion that sounded so much like her father’s that he was dumbfounded for a moment—he had learned much about the enigmatic, enchanting creature he adored so deeply. Still, he was reminded every so often of how much his feeble, woefully mortal mind would never be able to grasp.

What secret grievances and momentous misgivings were pondered behind that smooth, fair brow even as she humoured him by making pleasant conversation about his diurnal duties and delights?

To this very day, she had refused to share many details about her time on the Ice and her mother’s death—she claimed that she wanted to protect him from the pervasive rot of grief that would gnaw on every happy moment they experienced—but Tuor was no longer sure that he fully believed that.

“How is Maeglin? Have you conversed with him?” he asked instead, probing at the open wound she probably thought he knew nought about.

Idril loved her cousin in ways Tuor could hardly even begin to grasp—all he knew was that the unfortunate orphan who had found refuge in Gondolin was of a rare and alluring beauty which complimented his beloved’s in the most maddening ways.

Everyone here was so incredibly enthralling—hewn of living stone and adorned by animated gems—that he was perpetually surprised that Idril and Maeglin seemed to bring out one another’s best assets without ever overshadowing the other.

It was a testament to his innate weakness that he yearned to see them together so much; indeed, catching them during a private meeting or tense conversation made his heart race and mind swim, but he relished those few precious, erratic heartbeats of hopeful delirium that threatened to tear his chest apart.

“I have,” she admitted. “He was cagey.”

“Isn’t he ever so?” Tuor replied with easy charm and bent down to press a kiss onto her smooth, flawless cheek. Thus, he nearly missed the flash of anger and pain passing through the bright summer sky of her gaze like an ominous storm cloud. “You suspect that he hides something of importance?”

“No,” she rejoined a little too quickly and too vehemently. “No, never you mind.”

The smile she plastered onto her bewitchingly gorgeous face was too static, Tuor thought as his stomach lurched miserably. The one he had seen laugh, dance, and argue passionately now resembled a forgotten statue of a long-lost heroine, and he loathed the fact that she had ruthlessly and unconditionally shut him out.

He did not doubt that something was weighing on her—a bleeding ache that made carmine roses bloom under her otherwise unblemished skin—and yet he had to accept that she would not share her doubts and fears with him until she deemed it absolutely necessary.

Maybe, she was still shielding and sheltering him, he mused, and maybe, she had just grown incapable of speaking words of dread and imminent doom for fear that her very speech would ultimately conjure up and breathe life into her starkest nightmares.

“He is well, I take it?” Tuor tried one last time, flinging his heart and soul against the impervious walls of Idril’s unyielding secrecy.

“Yes,” she smiled. “Yes, we both are quite well.”

Maeglin stared at the peaceful horizon, unfurling like a golden tapestry beyond the confines of his sanctuary and prison.

Even though there was not a single sign of looming danger in the sweet air yet, the landscape was already ablaze to him, set alight by the voracious flames of his guilt and apprehension.

Idril knew—he was certain of it—although he could not fathom how she could have seen into his head and heart and deciphered the feelings and thoughts even he could not always make sense of.

He replayed his conversation with her over and over in his mind, analysing every word, every movement, every feigned smile, but he could not pinpoint the moment he had given himself away.

Oftentimes, his cousin’s effect on him positively bordered on terrifying—for some reason he could not identify or remedy, she seemed to know more about him than he ever divulged.

It was, of course, common knowledge that Idril was exceptionally gifted and versed in the art of mental communication, but Maeglin had to presume that there was another underlying truth—probably quite simple and therefore deeply perplexing—that entirely escaped him.

“Hello, are you all right?”

He whirled around when the kind, gentle voice of Tuor resounded behind him like a breath of warm air, chasing away the cloying fumes of asphyxiating mist.

“I cannot help but feel that my dearest love is worried about you. Did you fight?”

Maeglin smiled sadly at that; it was true that he and Idril oftentimes did not see eye to eye on matters of the realm, and they had been known to argue passionately about their discord—he almost wished that his crime against blood and soul only went as far as urban design.

“No,” he replied affably. “She has much on her mind these days—motherhood makes her suspect unspoken dangers looming behind every corner.”

The words tasted like ash and bile on his tongue. This was more than a despicable lie; it was a conscious effort to achieve the most reprehensible misdirection.

As Tuor’s smile softened to the point of looking positively boyish, Maeglin knew that he had succeeded in building a rapport based on gender and feigned privilege—within their hearts, they were both aware that Idril was more clear-headed and circumspect than any other person in the city, yet they let the gnawing curse of petty insecurity lead them astray.

As a matter of fact, it was easier to simply claim that Idril was chasing phantoms than to accept that she might see and know more than either one of them could even perceive, let alone understand.

“You’d come to us if you were in need of help, wouldn’t you?” Tuor grinned; his eyes were shining with faith and support, and his conspiratorial grin was unwavering.

Breathing out audibly to alleviate the torturous pressure weighing on his chest, Maeglin nodded gravely.

“Come to dinner soon,” the other pressed on. “I am sure it would reassure her so much; we love you well, you know that, right?”

Again, Maeglin moved his head—heavy with words unspoken and tears unshed—and fled the premises before the valiant Man could dig deeper into the distinctive mist of misery billowing around one he had accepted as a kinsman and friend.

If only they had invited him to their marital bed rather than their familial dinner table, if only they had laid their hands on him to arouse rather than gentle, if only they had spoken of loving passion rather than affectionate indulgence, he might not have quailed and capitulated before the terrible, relentless, corrupting presence of their common enemy.

The truth—bleak and burning—was writ plain across the darkening horizon, and—as so often in his life—Maeglin wished he had been given more time to tell the frightening, humiliating truth before he was forced to swallow the bitter drafts concocted from his craven lies and unspoken desires.

Thank you so much for reading <3

-> Masterlist for November (by @cilil)

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #November #Nanowrimo2023 #Gondolin OT3 #Idril #Maeglin #Tuor #Pretty Lies #anguish #lies and betrayal

[artist-owl]

so i saw @jaz-the-bard's post. instantly thought "oh i want to make a quick sketch for that."

(it was not, in fact, quick)

[Alt]

#i hope you dont mind me doing art for it #silmarillion #tolkien #idril #tuor #maeglin #gondolin ot3 #is that their ship name? #not sure but ill tag it anyway #damn its a good thing i like doing little details bc there are SO MANY in this pic #there were even more originally but i simplified it to suit the style better #if you see any mistakes no you don't #who is she talking to in the first panel? #idk probably penlodh #who promply went 'nope i didnt want to know that' and immediately erased it from his mind and never put it in his notes

[maglor-my-beloved]

Not Earth nor Sky nor Sund’ring Sea (shall keep me from my Loves)

Artist: @jaz-the-bard (Ao3: JazTheBard)

Author: @maglor-my-beloved (Ao3: maglor_my_beloved)

Itarillë came from her tower, more lovely than the morning sun in her dress of blue silk and lace as her father led her to the altar where she would await her betrothed. She was veiled and her hair laid in many braids, with gems and pearls gleaming amidst the gold, and though he could not see her face Tuor knew she was smiling. Now Maeglin came along the aisle, dressed all in black and silver, his hair held up by a single comb, elaborately wrought, and when he halted before Itarillë they were as moon and sun, taking Tuor’s breath away with their beauty and the unearthly power that flowed from them. At last Turgon placed his daughter’s hand in Maeglin’s, who carefully lifted her veil, and Tuor could swear that his breath hitched when he beheld his bride’s face for the first time. The newlyweds kissed, a soft and chaste kiss, just the slow, lingering press of lips to lips, and Tuor could not say if the sweet, piercing agony in his heart was of desire or jealousy.

Rating: Art: G | Fic: M

Warnings: None

Relationships: Idril/Maeglin, Idril/Maeglin/Tuor, Eärendil & Tuor

Characters: Maeglin, Tuor, Idril, Turgon, Eärendil, Eöl (mentioned), Aredhel (mentioned)

Additional tags: Fairy Tale AU, Fairy Tale Elements, Arranged Marriage, Courtly Love, Gondolin, Trans Characters, t4t4t, Sexual Content, Pregnancy, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word Count: 6,167

Inspired by @jaz-the-bard's lovely art

Princess Idril of Gondolin and Prince Maeglin of Nan Elmoth are to be wed, and Tuor, a mortal knight in Idril's service, soon falls for them both. But can love overcome his duty, and can there be a happy ending for them beyond the tower where the Princess and Prince are trapped?

@tolkienrsb

#trsb23 #silmarillion #gondolin ot3 #SoundCloud

[jhelenivarsimae]

And here's my other art for @tolkienrsb ! I'm so glad to have been able to work with the wonderful @jaz-the-bard who writes some of the best works of fiction I've read.

Featuring Idril, Tuor, and Maeglin in Jaz's High King Au.

Can't wait to read the fic!

#jhelen's art #silmarillion #tolkien #gondolin #thou hath been posted #the silmarillion #idril #tuor #maeglin #gondolin ot3 #trsb2022 #trsb 22

[lithgaeril]

The Being of Thy Name

Idril/Tuor/Maeglin with a focus on Tuor/Maeglin | T | 12576 words

My @myslashyvalentine gift for @jaz-the-bard! This is an angst-with-a-happy-ending Gondolin OT3 story involving fairy tales, deception, and more! A lot of inspiration for this comes from Jaz’s own writing, as well as a few nods to my favorite fairy tales from The Wonder Clock

Summary:

Tuor had a destiny. Of that much, he was certain. He had a message to bring to the King of the Hidden City, a message that could save the world.

Yet... a small delay couldn't hurt, could it? Not when there was a prince trapped in a tower, set to be forced to marry his rescuer—unless Tuor rescued him first.

What could possibly go wrong?

Read on Ao3

#my fics #tuor #maeglin #gondolin ot3

[oopsbirdficced]

Sun-Kissed, Moon-Blessed

Art by @isilloth-draws / Isilloth (AO3)

Story by @oopsbirdficced / ingenious_spark (AO3)

Fic rating: E/18+

Warnings: explicit sexual content

Relationships: Maeglin/Idril/Tuor

Characters: Maeglin, Tuor, Idril, Aredhel

Tags: romance, polyamory, fluff, smut, miscommunication, canon divergence: Aredhel lives, illustrated work

Word Count: 9k

Summary: Tuor comes to Gondolin and meets the lovely Idril Celebrindal and her husband, the recalcitrant Maeglin. They befriend him, welcoming him into their lives easily, as though he'd always been there.

It's not much of a stretch after that to also invite him to share their marriage.

-

A collaboration created for the 2022 Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang, @tolkienrsb !!!!!

Collection/link will go live on September 10th

#idril celebrindal #tuor #maeglin #fanfiction #silmarillion #tolkien #gondolin ot3 #romance #smut #fluff #polyamory #miscommunication #isilloth #oopsbirdficced #tsrb22 #my writing

[arofili]

Piercings

for @jaz-the-bard ​!

[ao3] - rated E, 926 words; t4t4t Idril/Tuor/Maeglin

~

“This is really not the time or place,” Maeglin hissed as Idril hiked up his robes and reached to grope between his legs.

Despite his complaints, he gladly hooked his feet over her shoulders as she pushed him down onto the table, sweeping half-finished diagrams to the floor. Her kiss was bruising, and she did not bother to be gentle as she yanked his underclothes down to his ankles, exposing his cunt, already dripping with desire.

Idril throbbed beneath her own robes at the sight: her cousin, splayed out before her wantonly, spitting poison but begging with his eyes for her to ravish him. She wanted to torment him, to tie him up and make him scream, but she didn’t have the time.

“I decide when and where you get fucked,” she growled, and fumbled to part her own robes. Her cock sprang free, achingly hard, the piercing in its head glittering in the torchlight of Maeglin’s forge. (Maeglin himself had pierced her, before she was married. She had let him suck her with it, let him ride her, to make sure he could feel it. She must please her husband on her wedding night, after all.)

“And what does your husband think of this?” Maeglin snarled, the last word choking in his throat as Idril thrust into him roughly, groaning at the feeling of his slick, tight walls clenching around her.

“My husband,” Idril snapped, her words in time with the movement of her hips, “has been very selfish. I am not—hnng—speaking to him—at the moment.”

Maeglin shivered from head to toe as she angled just right, hitting his sweet spot. He brought his hand down to rub at himself, but Idril slapped it away.

“I decide when you come,” she growled.

He moved his hands to fondle his tits instead, which she allowed, for she was remembering the hoops on his nipples, which he had allowed her to place there. This, too, was before she was married.

“If this—is how you treat your concubine—when your husband displeases you—” Maeglin said between gasps and moans— “then I—ought to fuck him—more often!”

Idril slammed her hips into him again, pressing them as close together as possible, and thrust a hand in his hair. Leaning close to his ear—where she had pierced the cartilage—she whispered, “You may be his slut also, but he is mine before he is yours.”

“Lómion?” Tuor called, entering the forge without knocking, as he was wont to do. “Lómion, are you in here?”

“If you make a noise,” Idril hissed, “I will not let you come for a week.”

Maeglin bit his tongue, his eyes glazing over.

“Lómion?” Tuor said again. “I wanted to speak with you...my lady is cross with me, and I wanted your advice with...”

He turned the corner and froze, his mouth falling open at the scene before him: his wife, buried to the hilt inside another.

It was too much for Maeglin: he whimpered and came, his head falling back and hitting the table with a thud.

Idril slapped his cheek. “I’ll make good on my promise,” she threatened.

“Itarillë!” Tuor croaked, falling to his knees in supplication. “My love! I am sorry, I am so sorry I took him to my bed before you this morning, you musn’t punish him for my sake—punish me instead, dear Itarillë—!”

Idril withdrew from Maeglin, ignoring how he whined at the emptiness. She was still flush and hard, her cock slicked in his juices, and she watched greedily as a little drool slipped from Tuor’s mouth. Oh, he was so pretty when he begged.

“You should not have lain with him before you laid with me,” she agreed slowly, stalking forward to lay her thumb at his lip. Dutifully, he sucked her fingers into his mouth, and she shuddered with the effort of holding back her release. “And if you were to do so, you should not have deprived me the pleasure of watching you.”

“Easily remedied, cousin,” Maeglin said, slinking off the table to crouch at Tuor’s side.

“But my lady, you should come first,” Tuor said eagerly—or she thought he did. It was hard to tell with his mouth stuffed full of her fingers.

“Satisfy me, and perhaps I will forgive you both,” Idril declared, and replaced her fingers with her cock.

As Tuor sucked her, she stared at Maeglin, and without even needing to order him he began to strip entirely, exposing his pale body, flushed red with desire. When he was bare he undressed her, and just as the last garment was removed, Idril threw back her head and shouted, spilling down Tuor’s throat.

She staggered back, the last of her seed dripping down her husband’s chin, and Maeglin caught her, depositing her carefully into the pile of their clothes. He kissed her forehead, then knelt, catching Tuor’s lips with his own and licking her release out of his mouth.

“Play for me,” she rasped, and her lovely lords complied. Soon Tuor too was bare, the piercings they had given him visible at every angle, and they curled around each other, drinking from one another’s cunts.

Idril burned as she watched them, already rising, and knew this tryst was far from over. She would not leave them until they were both stuffed with her seed, aching from her touch, utterly exhausted from pleasure—and perhaps, if they were lucky, carrying the first sparks of a new life, ready each to bear her a child.

#silm #silmarillion #silm fic #idril #tuor #maeglin #idril celebrindal #gondolin ot3 #jaz the bard #ot3 prompts #my writing #my fic #tefain nin #piercings #trans tolkien

[thethermocline]

Hmmm… let’s do Celebrimbor/Narvi, Celegorm/Oromë, Idril/Tuor/Voronwe? My underrated faves 😭

Ooh, yes...a very interesting group.

Celebrimbor/Narvi: I go back and forth on this one. I used to ship it as a matter of course, but shifted away from it over time. It's interesting, because it's still my top ship for both those characters; it's not like I found someone I thought was a better fit. I just ended up seeing them more as friends? It's still gonna show up sometimes in my fics though.

Celegorm/Oromë: YEP. It's one of those default ships for me; with one exception in progress, I'm not really interested in writing about this pairing. It's more of a world building detail for me. But yeah, they were a thing, that's why Celegorm almost stayed with Oromë instead of siding with his father, and Feanor ABSOLUTELY wanted to break them up. He didn't know for sure they were together, Celegorm never told him, but he's not dumb. I think he suspected - correctly - that Ingwe and Manwe have a thing, and did not want that for Celegorm. Understandable, given his view of the Valar.

I think they ought to get back together, and in my fics, they will.

Idril/Tuor/Voronwe: the only poly ship I really consider and it's because of how persuasive you are. ♥️ I can see it! Also, Idril deserves every nice thing. She can have all the pretty men she wants. I support it but will need to read a bit more before I feel I can do it justice in fic.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask game #gondolin ot3 #Oromë/Celegorm #Celebrimbor/Narvi

[maeofthenoldor]

#tolkien #polls #silmarillion #maeglin #ot3 #gondolin #silm

[runawaymun]

For the pride requests: if you're up for it, gondolin ot3 at gondolin pride?

Wait is tarnin austa just gondolin pride

don't worry, they made sure Maeglin wore lots of sunscreen and that he re-applies often!

#thank you for the request #i will always do gondolin ot3 for u bb <3 #gondolin ot3 #maeglin #tuor #idril #the fall of gondolin #tfog #tolkien pride #trans tolkien #my art

[swanmaids]

year end rec list wrap-up

2023 was such a good year for silm fic, I read so much great stuff from all corners. But I would be very much remiss if I did not rec each of the wonderful gift fics that I was lucky enough to recieve throughout the year!

The Silmarillion, in reverse-chronological order:

Indissoluble by @polutrope [idril/tuor/voronwe; rated e, 2.6k, nawa]

All the banter-filled, life-affirming sex for my ot3 equals merry christmas to ME.

untitled by @polutrope [tuor/voronwe; explicit, five sentences, on tumblr]

Sensual, tender, and full of hope against all odds on the way to Gondolin.

a passionate kiss by @jouissants [earendil/elwing; on tumblr]

Amazing worldbuilding and sensuality in this portrayal of Sirion-era Starwing.

she is so tired of fleeing by @that-angry-noldo [morwen; five sentences, on tumblr]

Perfect refugee Morwen characterisation in just five sentences.

blessed disorder by @sallysavestheday [turgon & aredhel; rated g, 0.1k, nawa]

The sweetest snapshot of these two being the best of friends.

Muntjac by @jouissants [celegorm/orome; rated e, 2.2k, nawa]

Hot, emotional and fairly dark sex between these two in Beleriand as everything falls apart around Celegorm. Just so perfectly THEM.

salt by @verecunda [earendil/elwing; three sentences, on tumblr]

Super sweet and romantic slice of life for my otp.

the glassmaker by @thelordofgifs [ofc/ofc; rated t, 1.9k, nawa]

Such excellent worldbuilding and a tender blossoming romance between two ordinary women of Sirion while it was still thriving, by fellow Sirion-understander.

swing by @welcomingdisaster [nerdanel/indis, rated t, 1.3k, nawa]

Beautiful imagery and wrenching emotions in this post-flight of the Noldor fic. And yet, despite it all, some hope.

Leaves of Countless Years Lie Thick by @polutrope [celegorm/orome; rated m, 0.8k, nawa]

Stunning, sexy, emotive post-canon reunion between these two. Fantastic Orome pov.

a kiss to wake up by @polutrope [Idril/Tuor/Voronwe; rated t, nawa]

A lovely moment of tenderness and then hope as Earendil rises in the sky.

the longed for that cometh beyond hope by @meadowlarkx [earendil/elwing; rated g, 0.4k, nawa]

Beautiful bittersweet fairytale vibes in this tale of "peredhil living through their own myth", as Earendil's quest is completed.

forced to watch by @theworldisquietheretooquiet [morwen & aerin; 1.1k, implied rape, on tumblr]

Wrenchingly sad exploration of Morwen's emotions as she is forced to watch Aerin and Brodda marry.

warmth by @that-angry-noldo [earendil/elwing, elwing & earendil & elrond & elros; on tumblr]

A lovely soft and adorable moment as Earendil and Elwing play with their children.

what remains by asterisq [dior/nimloth; rated t, 2.2k, mcd]

Impeccable clinical horror vibes and tragedy in this remix gift! Observations of the corpses of Dior and Nimloth following the second kinslaying.

summer by @halfelven [earendil; on tumblr]

Evocative and heartwrenching portrayal of a young and traumatised Earendil in Sirion.

House of the Dragon

a discreet kiss by @ellrond [rhaenyra/alicent; on tumblr]

A sweet stolen moment between a young Alicent and Rhaenyra, tragic when one remembers what's to come.

and as if that wasn't enough, I was also #blessed enough to receive several stunning illustrations of my own fics. Each is absolutely beautiful and adds to the fics immeasurably. Go and Look at them.

one of your girls

Celegorm in a dress by @curufiin

nothing beside remains

Uinen tends to Tar-Miriel's bones by @meadowlarkx

the salt in the wound

Curufin's wife holding angrist by @matrose

Luthien/Curufin's wife by @matrose

sister, sister

Young Aredhel tags along on a Turgon/Elenwe date by @matrose

#thank you all once again!!! #my post #the silm #fic #art #for me

[maglor-my-beloved]

Self rec!

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

Many thanks to @thedaughterofshadows for tagging me in this! I'm super late, because I wanted to wait until I could include my TRSB fics from this year, so now that those are revealed here we go!

In the Land of Fairies

Fingolfin, the prophesied King, is gone, and his realm fallen to darkness. All hope seems lost, until Gil-galad, a young knight of mysterious origin, recieves the shards of the kingsword. With Elrond at his side, he must visit the land of fairies, and fulfill the trials of the fairy king to claim the throne and save his homeland.

Fairytale AU, Arthurian elements, and poetry - what more could you want?

Tend to the Flame

The Fëanorians, returned at last, move to Formenos and turn the ruined fortress into a city of crafts and creation, a place of second chances and a home for those who do not know where they belong. Their family grows over the centuries, and Míriel's last work is in time completed.

(Or, what if all my blorbos were friends and lived in a cool city together and bonded over an arts&crafts project)

When the Circling and Striking are Done

For years Elrond has been followed by a mysterious but benevolent falcon - when tragedy strikes, its true nature is finally revealed.

My falcon!Erestor AU, and in my opinion one of my more underrared fics

Lilac

Lilac - innocence, first emotion of love

Short but sweet, a drabble that encompasses all I love about my favourite pairing, Elrond/Erestor

I promise you I'm not broken (I promise you there's more)

A strange Elf comes to Eregion. Celebrimbor meets a long-lost cousin.

A Maeglin lives AU, in which he comes to Eregion, meets Celebrimbor and slowly begins to heal.

???

I am saving the last spot for my unfinished and as of yet untitled TRSB pinch hit, featuring Gondolin OT3, arranged marriage and a sprinkle of fairytale elements

I'm pretty sure everyone I know has already been tagged in this, but if not, consider this your tag!

#self rec #maglor writes

[polutrope]

Have you done Turgon/Elenwe/Finrod and or Idril/Tuor/Voronwe yet? My favourite polyships 🥺

I have not done ANY polyships, let's goooo!

Turgon/Elenwe/Finrod

Amazing. I think the dynamics for this would be especially interesting. I can't not imagine Amarië as part of it in Aman, so with the OT3 it's angsty comfort times on the Helcaraxë. Turgon and Finrod more QPR, but occasionally they will bang just the two of them (and continue to after Elenwë dies 😢). Elenwë and Turgon very much in love, soulmates, but the sex is elevated by the presence of Finrod (obviously). Elenwë and Finrod have gone at it just the two of them a few times, but even with their undeniable sex appeal there's a je-ne-sais-quoi that Turgon brings that they just can't find without him. They are both more magnetically attracted to him than to each other, so that's part of it. Turgon doesn't know how sexy he is and that gets them going.

All three of them have some excellent, intellectually stimulating conversation, as well. All very emotionally open and supportive.

Idril/Tuor/Voronwe

THIS is the Gondolin OT3 that I will sail into the sunset. Which literally happens (in that one note in HoMe but that's good enough for me). Even the least tinted shipping goggles will reveal the Tuor/Voronwe vibes in Of Tuor. "And there was only one cloak." They definitely developed a thing on the route to Gondolin, to the surprise and delight and comfort of them both. Idril and Voronwe were friends before, and when he comes back there's a mutual shift in their feelings towards each other, and Idril is also like, "wow, hot guy you brought back." So hey presto, no brainer. Then she falls in love with him, hard and fast and facilitated by Fate. Voronwë was definitely an amazing bonus dad to Earendil.

#asks #elenwe x finrod x turgon #idril x tuor x voronwe

[annoyinglandmagazine]

I did this a while ago but it didn’t get many votes so I thought I’d try to get something more conclusive.

#silmarillion #tolkien #polls #russingon #halenthir #lesbain #beren and luthien #curufinrod #beleg x turin #feanor x nerdanel #aredhel x celegorm #aegnor x andreth #Maeglin #Tuor #idril

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

Tagged by @thalion71 thank you!

most hits: Dear Ecthelion (letters are hard to write in your head), with 336! I don't check my stats very often so that's crazy to me. It's probably because it's the only one I have written for LotR, not just the Silmarilion lol. It was my second? I think? Work I posted to be longer than 2000 words. I wrote it for SecretlyThranduil for TSS21 and I'm still pretty proud of it and how it got me thinking about Glorfindel, Ecthelion, and Erestor. I didn't actually get the chance to use most of the headcanons I came up with...

most kudos: Also Dear Ecthelion lol, for the suspected same reason as above. Behind it is I will go as seems good to me which is the start to an "Aredhel becomes a ghost and casually haunts Gondolin" AU that I have written very little about but continuously gives me brainworms. I am very very proud of the style of this one, I wrote it for Tolkien Gen Week 21 and it has haunted (ha) me ever since.

most comments: Remember, All, Listen, All, easily. Written for TRSB last year, my only (completed) multi-chap, and the 2nd longest. Far and away the fic I am proudest of. Perfectly suited to my interests, just enough of a challenge to test me, self-indulgent worldbuilding details, some light conlanging, and absolutely GORGEOUS prompt art by catadromously. Sticking exclusively to Dior's perspective of his fairy-tale parents was really fun and I think gave a pretty unique flavor, and I've been so, so, so gratified with all the positive feedback saying that they could feel and believe the relationships. If you only read/kudos/comment on one of these, this is the one I recommend.

most bookmarks: Calómë (dusk-light), a prompt fill for jaz-the-bard. Writing this was like polishing away a stone to reveal the heart of how I want to characterize Maeglin. Still working on how/if this fits into my personal Arda, and I know the Gondolin OT3 isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I did a lot in here that I'm very happy with, and it took me so long to work out a variation on both Lomion and Maeglin that I was pleased with, didn't have Implications, was gender neutral, and also translated easily and cleanly into both Sindarin and Quenya, so I'm definitely keeping Calómë.

most words: The Goddess and the Weaver, beating out Remember, All by a cool 600. Ironically, this is my other (unfinished) multi-chap. Two-shot? The second half is quietly languishing in my drafts but it is Not forgotten, and will be written if nothing else than for the sake of 3 (three) scenes that I have in extreme clarity in my head. I have So many Miriel thoughts about her and her relationships to life and Vairë and Finwë and Indis and her son... There is a Story behind this fic, which I don't have the space for here but is detailed in the author's note at the beginning, but even though it has fought me every step of the way I am content to let it rest now as is for a while before battling again. Also I did some funky formatting for Vairë's speech and pronouns which was a lot of work but very very cool imo.

least words: This is a Forest, at 547. I usually post short one-shots because I know that I can get them done even when I have almost no inspiration or energy, but this is short even for me. Written for a class as fanfic with the serial numbers filed off and posted in its natural habitat, this is purely self indulgent Doriath As Fey Eldritch Horror Entity With Beren Dealing purple prose. Is it my best technical work? No, but I had so much fun with it, and I think I got across the vibes I wanted to. Also Quick shout outs to the least word runner-ups: A Cruel Forest (630) which is the same Doriath As Entity premise but with a completely different style and Elured and Elurin as Eldritch Maiarin Entities Twisted, and the prince is dead (661) in which Fingon has an existential crisis about his name and the kingship after his father rides out to face Morgoth. Both also written for Gen Week 21. I had so much time that year.

Tagging: @yellow-faerie @tilions @jaz-the-bard @amethysttribble @starspray @swanmaids @arofili if y'all feel like it! Any other writers who see this and want to self-promo, count this as me tagging you to show off your stuff.

#tag game #my writing #self promo #mmm tempted to start a tag game of 'three of your fics you think deserve more love and why' now... mayhaps...