#skyeventide

[arofili]

Unkinged

for @astral-aromance and @skyeventide <3

[ao3] - rated E!!

~

Finwë was not, traditionally, the kind of nér who cried during sex. He took joy in the act, of making love and bringing pleasure to his favorite people, and was more likely to laugh than weep. But this—it was all too much. It was everything he had dreamed for endless Ages, separated from his wives. It was everything he had dreamed long before then, and now at last it was here.

“Finwë, Finya,” Míriel whispered, her warm, round body pressed close to his own. He buried one hand in her silvery hair, so fair, like Telperion, like Isil, like the stars, like her—and with the other he caressed the curve of her breast, so full beneath his palm, so alive. The last he had touched her she had been still and cold, so weary her hröa was no longer her own; the last he had spoken with her they had both been lifeless, distant, and her weariness had passed to him.

And behind him: “Husband,” murmured Indis, pressing kisses to his shoulderblades, her long golden hair draped over them both, so fair, like Laurelin, like Anar, like the Flame Imperishable, like her. The last she had touched him they had grown strained and distant, and their kiss was one of duty, of symbolism; the last he had spoken with her had been through ink, a letter promising that all would soon be well and he would return to her arms.

He had not returned: he had died, and left her alone, utterly.

At least, then, Míriel had returned. Míriel, who had sworn never to live again, found breath once more and rose from her bower in the Gardens of Lórien, and made her way to the house of the woman who had taken from her her husband. Míriel, who had thanked Indis rather than hated her, and come to love her even as Finwë had loved her.

He had thought, then, he would remain ever in Mandos, as penance for his greed, his desire for marriage and children beyond the bounds of what had been first granted him; as punishment for his failure in restraining his most beloved son’s endless fire. But he had been granted clemency at long last, and though he was unkinged, he was glad of it, for it meant his queens could hold him—both of them.

And so he wept, unashamed of his happiness. “Míri, Inya,” he sobbed, the bond between them, all three, glowing so bright and warm. Before it had been only him and Míriel, him and Indis, Míriel and Indis—but now it was the three of them in perfect harmony, their spirits mingling, Míriel’s red and Indis’ gold and his own dark silver winding together in gladness. 

They were bare before each other, in fëa and in hröa, and their closeness was more intoxicating than any climax. Yet they came together in flesh as much as in spirit, Indis stroking him to hardness, guiding him with gentle hands until he slipped inside of Míriel, her folds embracing him as she sank down to meet the cradle of his hips.

She moaned lowly, her head lolling back, and he set his mouth upon her neck, kissing her. Indis joined him, bending over him, pressing them all closer together, and their lips met over Míriel’s throat. She gasped, rocking forward, making Finwë keen from the heavenly sensation of her around him, and then her mouth was at his, and Indis’, and he lost himself in their warmth, in their love.

Too soon Finwë spent, pulsing into Míriel, who cried his name as she followed him into her own release. She slumped back, breathing hard, and Indis crawled over Finwë to kiss her, pressing her long, lithe body against Míriel’s short, round one. Finwë’s tears began anew as he watched them, a study in contrasts, silver and gold: one pale, one dark, both beautiful.

Indis laid Míriel down upon their bed, mouthing her way down her hröa to the soft silver curls between her legs. Humming happily, she buried her head there, and through their bond she shared with Finwë the filthy loveliness of licking his seed out of her. Finwë was painfully hard again in moments, and Míriel enticed him with a whisper of a thought: Go to her. Give her what you have given me, that I may repay her service.

She was crouched over Míriel, and at her wife’s urging she lifted her rear into the air, spreading her legs for Finwë’s access. Too tempted by the slick dripping from her folds, Finwë knelt to drink from her, and as his tongue caressed her pearl her scream of surprise was muffled by Míriel’s flesh.

But the ache between his legs was too strong for him to resist for long, and soon he rose back up and buried himself in her willing flesh. Now Indis jerked up, her mouth dripping with Finwë and Míriel’s mingled release, and whined as Finwë filled her. Míriel sat up, latching her mouth upon one small, pert breast, and as he thrust into her Finwë brought a hand to play with the nipple of the other.

Indis shuddered and came before he did, this time, and went limp between her spouses, Míriel holding her up between them as Finwë chased his own release. Over her shoulder, Míriel kissed him, and again he sobbed in gladness, their bond blazing bright as he tumbled over the edge, spending half-in, half-out of Indis’ body.

Exhausted from joy, from exertion, Finwë fell back onto the bed, and Indis curled to bury her face in his chest. Míriel laughed softly, her happiness bubbling up in their shared mind-space, and she gently cared for them, licking them clean and then wiping down what was left.

“My wives,” Finwë croaked, his throat choked with emotion, as Míriel settled down on his other side, curling around him. “My loves...” I never thought I could have this. I never thought we could have this.

We do, Indis murmured.

“We have each other,” Míriel whispered. “My husband. Our wife.”

My loves; my spouses. Indis lifted her head just enough to kiss Finwë’s chin, then returned to her safe position in his arms. We have all of Arda left for us.

I will not leave you again, Finwë promised.

Nor I, Míriel added.

I know. Indis was slowly slipping into slumber, but her simple statement of trust was clear. I know. 

#finwe #indis #miriel #finwe x indis x miriel #silm #silmarillion #silm fic #astral aromance #skyeventide #ot3 prompts #which i opened accidentally-ish lol oops #(on discord) #my writing #my fic #tefain nin #unkinged

[fatalism-and-villainy]

6 & 7

6. Do you have your work beta’d? How important is this to your process?

No, and it's not very important. Honestly, once I'm done with my edits, I usually just want to post the thing and be done with it, rather than getting feedback and doing another round of revisions. I do that enough for my thesis.

I wouldn't be against getting a second opinion on something I wrote, particularly if it were on a topic I wasn't as knowledgeable about. But otherwise... hey, I'm not getting paid for this.

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

It depends! Usually it's just whose perspective on what's happening is more interesting to me - perhaps whoever is less certain, more conflicted, etc. If I want to explore how a character looks from an outside POV - for example, cast them as imposing or threatening or unknowable - then I'll write from the other person's perspective. This is the effect I was after with, say, Nie Huaisang in my Nie Huaisang/Mo Xuanyu fic, or even Will Graham in my Will/Jack fic. (This makes me realize most of my fic, even gen fic, is usually centered on the tête-à-tête.)

Other time it's informed by more idiosyncratic preferences or agendas on my part. I have two m/f pieces that I'm writing from the woman's perspective primarily because I never feel like m/f foregrounds a man's desirability in the way m/m often does - and I've realized that, hey, if I'm the one writing it, I can avoid the m/f writing conventions that I dislike. I also have a Hannibal fic in which Hannibal is trans that's from his perspective, rather than Will's (it is slashy and rather steamy), because I'm less interested in the physicality of the trans body than I am in trans subjectivity and the ideology of the body.

So... those are a few factors. :)

[meme]

#skyeventide #fic talk #replies #awkwardly memes

[anneapocalypse]

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing / 🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

I think I do character voices pretty well!

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

I always struggle to describe my own style, and I do feel like it changes quite a bit based on the POV character of what I'm writing. So in that sense, I'd say my writing style is heavily character-driven, and also very dialogue-heavy because I enjoy dialogue. I think I usually describe things in a pretty straightfoward way; I don't mind a bit of flowery prose, certainly, but I value clarity in visual description especially, for myself as much as the reader since I don't have a strong visual brain.

#skyeventide #ask anne #ask meme #fic writer meme

[ciceroballtorture]

stai leggendo il silmarillion? 👀

yesss!!! sono al capitolo 13 il ritorno dei noldor!!! non ho pensieri troppo intelligenti per ora, ma im loving my bestie fëanor not gonna lie. la combinazione di: rottura delle leggi dell'ospitalità con un bagno di sangue di discutibile necessità + rifiutare un perdono angelico so hard l'arcangelo michele si mette a piangere + un giuramento che è praticamente fare speedwalking to your doom è uno slay per me. i wish him the best (tormento e sofferenza per lui e la sua famiglia) ma in modo narrativamente affettuoso <3

#.ask #skyeventide #non so quale sia il consenso su di lui ma apprezzo sempre un gesto teatrale per dire al tuo fratellastro to fuck off and die #losgar sempre nel cuore

[dialux]

me trying to ask for director's cuts and realising I betaed a decent number of them and already kinda have that lol

Lmaooooo me and you, Bun:

#skyeventide #the number of chats we've had over all these fics..... truly most of my writing wouldn't be the same w/out it #also never forget morofinwe THEE typo. forgiven only bc he's a moron in the story lmaooo #dialux answers questions

[hhorror-vacuii]

6 and 18

6. a book with a pink cover (which is a weirdly specific thing to ask btw)

The last book with a pink cover I read were Lee Koe Amanda's MInistry of Moral Panic, which is a Singaporean collection of short stories, in my opinion very unremarkable. A book with a pink cover which I intend to read as soon as possible is Joan Didion's The Blue Nights (ironically).

18. your least favorite book ever

Oh my goodness, I cannot get over the fact I gave Cukry by Dorota Kotas a try. I'm glad I didn't pay for it, or else I would have considered trying to get my money back (nothing can give me back the time I wasted though). I'm very happy its a Polish book and as such it will probably never be picked up a major audience.

#skyeventide #Thank you so much! #ask #:)

[verdiesque]

happy birthday <33333

Thank you!! <3

#responses #skyeventide

[castratedvader]

can everybody die i need to be alone with these news

#THANK YOU GAIA SKYEVENTIDE FOR SENDING IT TO ME. IM SHAKING.

[undercat-overdog]

Some thoughts on the newly found letter ‘the horde.’

This is a much more coherent narrative of Thingol’s death and the events leading to it than any other version out there and makes sense (including some minor things such as most of Thingol’s warriors dying in the sack). It also fits in beautifully as a coda to the Narn, starting the cycle of violence earlier: after the murder of Mim, Hurin and his outlaws brings “a great part” of the cursed dragon-treasure from Nargothrond to Thingol, not just the Nauglamir. Violence immediately follows, with the outlaws claiming it after Hurin left and fighting breaking out in Menegroth. Thingol then contracts the Dwarves (now of both Nogrod and Belegost, not just Nogrod) to make a necklace to set the Silmaril in (the letter doesn’t call it the Nauglamir; if it is that necklace, then it’s not associated with Finrod in this version) and then refuses to pay them, wanting to keep the metals he had promised in payment, after which the Dwarves depart (without a fight), gather their forces, and attack, a fight in which Thingol is killed. The letter is explicit that the dragon-curse (greed for the horde) is working on both Thingol and the Dwarves. (After that, Beren slays the Dwarves (who raped the Silmaril, while Beren won the Silmaril - v disappointed with Jirt for his portrayal of the Dwarves here), as in the Silmarillion, and the story continues as published.)

Each time the dragon-treasure is transferred, there is violence: Hurin and the outlaws murder Mim; Hurin gives Thingol the treasure and the outlaws attack the elves, trying to take it, with fighting within Menegroth itself; Thingol promises some of the treasure to the Dwarven crafters and then breaks his word and doesn’t pay them and they attack, kill Thingol, and take what they believe they were owed (and no more); Beren attacks and kills the Dwarves, taking back the necklace with the Silmaril. (A fitting coda for Turin’s story.)

I’m interested that it’s unworked silver particularly that both Thingol and the Dwarves want most, given how elsewhere silver is more resistant than gold from Morgoth corruption (though this particular silver spent some time in Glaurung’s horde, so there’s that).

The Girdle of Melian does not keep the Dwarven army out: [invasion] had before been impossible, because of the Girdle of Melian, an invisible fence maintained by the power and will through which no one with evil intent could pass. But either this fence had been robbed of its power by the evil within, or Melian had removed it in grief and horror at the deed that had been done. What “the evil within [or] deed that had been done” is isn’t specified. This is before Thingol’s death, so is the deed him stiffing the Dwarves? The previous fighting over the treasures with the outlaws? The murder of Mim? “Evil within” seems like it’d be the cursed horde itself.

The letter then shifts to Tolkien retelling Feanor’s story very briefly, beginning with him making the Silmarils and tying it in with LotR: The “War of the Rings” is, as it were, a breaking out again of the “Wars of the Jewels”, though in a different mode.

There’s nothing really new here, but what’s between the lines is interesting, including more Celebrimbor-Feanor parallels as well as Annatar-Feanor parallels, arguably the three great craftsmen of Middle-earth (actually, not arguably. Who else is there? (I’m not counting Aule here, or the other Valar, diff level.)) But what interests me the most is the parallel between the One Ring and the Silmarils: The Rings began in that evil mode in which the Jewels ended. I’m not sure if Jirt’s referring here to the objects themselves or just truncating out ‘war of,’ since there’s a fair bit of incomplete sentences, crossed out words, and the like in the letter, but let’s go with the objects themselves, even though I think the latter more likely. Because yes, the narrative place of those McGuffins - Morgoth coveting and stealing the Silmarils after murdering Finwe and Sauron desiring the Three and taking the Seven and Nine after murdering Celebrimbor (albeit Sauron had more claim to them, Morgoth having nothing to do with the making of the Silmarils), followed by heroes taking a Silmaril/the One Ring from Morgoth/Sauron, followed by a quest in which a bearer of an item of power and his companion (Earendil and Elwing/Frodo and Sam) save the day - and the effects upon Earendil and Frodo are v similar.

I am also lmao at Feanor calling himself ‘lord of lights,’ not just because of Feanor’s rather R’hllor-ish death, but because a friend recently had Annatar call himself ‘lord of light’ in a fic before changing it to another title.

Other thoughts:

I want to read about the men and dwarves who in the heroic age (? this can’t just be the first) fighting dragons and taking their hordes. Wonder if some of the Seven are caught up in that...

Maglor dies in this letter, casting himself into the sea. I am more than ok with this.

#i think the events as laid out wrt the dragon-horde and thingol's death are the most coherent version we have and make sense #and may adopt them as a result #though in general i rank letters (at least their non-linguistic content) v low on the scale of canonicity #meta #many thanks to skyeventide for the transcription!

[polutrope]

Ambarussa Appreciation

I have said before that I think Amrod and Amras have much untapped imaginative potential. But that's not to say there are no intrepid creators who have done marvellous work with the sixth and seventh sons of Fëanor. Here are some of them! Feel free to reblog this with additions of your own.

Fics

A Kind of Mercy by @aipilosse (T, 0.8k). Amras & Amrod. A haunting character study.

truth in a mirror by athenakarthagonensis (E, 4.4k). Amrod/OMC. Stunning prose and a dangerous lightly-toasted Amrod. The unique Green-elf POV is excellent.

The White Tower by Anna_Wing (not rated, 11.2k). Post-canon Elwing-focused fic (fascinating worldbuilding and musings on the nature of the Oath), but interesting and refreshing to see her interacting with the 'forgotten' Kinslayers.

Who By Fire by me (M, 4.9k). Amrod/Fingolfin. Two grief-raw souls connect at Mithrim. Lightly-toasted Amrod. cw: past attempted suicide, mental instability, injury, animal death.

The Same Blood by me (T, 1k). Amras and Amrod's relationship feels the strain of what they have been through. Follow-up to the previous fic.

as a mist of light, chapter 12 by @swanmaids (T, ficlet). Amras finds a way to cope after the fire. Crispy Amrod. cw: self harm.

We Shared Everything by @cuarthol (M, 2.2k). Amras and Amrod shared everything, until they didn't. Crispy Amrod. Fantastic use of first person (plural and singular).

Dénouement by @sallysavestheday (G, 0.9k). Amrod/Aredhel, post-canon. Two people who were killed by people they love find understanding in each other. Crispy Amrod.

A Name by @skyeventide (G, 1k). Beautiful and impactful musings on identity, pulling from the convoluted and complex names associated with these two. Lightly-toasted Amrod.

The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant, chapter 6 by me and @melestasflight (T, ~2k). Something lighter! The twins seduce Fingon.

Art

There is actually a pretty rich array of fanart of Amrod and Amras. Here are just a few of my favourites.

Amras and Amrod by @wisesnail

Amras and Amrod by @welcomingdisaster

Amrod threatens Elrond and Elros by @runawaymun, a chilling commission for my fic And Love Grew

Amrod by @myceliumelium

Amras and Maedhros by @redbootsindoriath

Amrod by @tabukomi

Ambarussa by @thelien-art

Ambarussa by @spvce-oddity

Maedhros, Celegorm, Amrod, Amras by @albuum

Any finally some HoMe quotes about the twins, who get so little in the published Silm.

325 [525] Torment fell upon Maidros and his brethren, because of their unfulfilled oath. Damrod and Díriel resolved to win the Silmaril, if Eärendel would not give it up willingly. […] 329 [529] Here Damrod and Díriel ravaged Sirion, and were slain. Maidros and Maglor were there, but they were sick at heart.  From 'The Later Annals of Beleriand' in The Lost Road

"The two twins were both red-haired. Nerdanel gave them both the name Ambarussa - for they were much alike and remained so while they lived. When Fëanor begged that their names should at least be different Nerdanel looked strange, and after a while said: 'Then let one be called [Ambarto >] Umbarto, but which, time will decide."

"The twins called each other Ambarussa. The name Ambarto/Umbarto was used by [?no one]. The twins remained alike, but the elder grew darker in hair, and was more dear to his father. After childhood they [?were not to be] confused…" From 'The Shibboleth of Fëanor' in The Peoples of Middle-earth

#amrod #amras #ambarussa #character appreciation #fic rec #art rec

[arofili]

Aching from Tonight

for @skyeventide​!

[ao3] - rated E; 669 words; Míriel/Finwë/Elwë

~

“Do you think anyone has done this before?” Míriel asked breathlessly, gripping Finwë’s shoulders so tight she thought he might bruise.

“Three Quendi fucking?” Elwë said, rolling his hips up into her. “We cannot be the first.”

“No, two néri—ai, Finwë!—fucking a nís at the same time,” Míriel gasped. Finwë’s clever fingers pumped in and out of her, stretching her entrance absurdly, caressing Elwë’s length already inside her. This had been her idea, but Finwë had taken to it with an eagerness that overwhelmed her. He always overwhelmed her, in the best way.

“Perhaps not like this,” Finwë growled, and lined his cock up next to Elwë’s. “Are you ready?”

Míriel took a breath, forcing herself to relax. She was so full already—both her lovers were generously gifted in girth, and the feeling of just one of them was so much. To take two—

But she wanted this. They’d come together before in all sorts of combinations: Elwë fucking Finwë while he fucked Míriel, Míriel riding Elwë’s mouth while Finwë sucked him, Finwë taking her mouth while Elwë took her hole... But this was new. She’d touched herself thinking of this for weeks now, and she’d finally convinced her lovers (well, Elwë, mostly) that she would not break, and now it was happening.

“Yes,” she sighed, her head falling back against Elwë’s shoulder, her legs spreading wider to accommodate Finwë. “Please, Finwë...”

“Ai, Míriel,” Finwë groaned, and pushed inside her.

She whined as he filled her, the stretch almost too much to bear—but not quite. Elwë choked and bit down on her neck, and Finwë moaned loud enough she was certain all the Quendi at Cuiviénen could hear them, no matter how secluded their grove of trees was.

“Finwë,” Elwë said, voice strangled. “Stars—!”

“I can feel you,” Finwë rumbled, trembling in Míriel’s arms. “Fuck, Elwë—”

“So tight—” Elwë cried

“So tight—” Finwë agreed.

“Move,” Míriel rasped, because this was wonderful but she needed more stimulation.

It was clumsy at first, but soon Finwë and Elwë found a rhythm, one thrusting in while the other pulled back. She could feel their cocks rubbing against each other inside her cunt, could feel the stretch and give of her muscles as they pushed her to the limit. She was burning from the inside out, held up by the two of them, and the lightest touch to her pearl made her scream and clench around them, heightening her climax and pulling them even tighter together.

She couldn’t tell which of them spilled first, or perhaps they spilled at the same time: but soon she felt their seed hot inside her, cocks pulsing, filling her up. Elwë pulled out first, still coming, but Finwë stayed inside until he was done, clutching her and kissing her hard. She realized, distantly, that her fierce grip had pierced his skin: little dots of blood stained his skin, seeping under her nails.

“Ai, Míriel, you are a queen among Quendi,” Elwë rasped, lying back on the grass.

“That was magnificent,” Finwë agreed, pulling out at last. “Did you...?”

“I shan’t be able to walk back to the lake tonight,” she admitted, closing her aching legs and shivering at the hot squelch of seed inside her. “But it was well worth it.”

“Next time,” Finwë mused, curling up at her back, “I have an idea.”

“Oh?” Elwë rolled over to join them, and Míriel found herself squeezed between her two lovers, warm and large and protective.

“Aye,” Finwë said. His hand traced lovingly down Míriel’s spine, stopping to grip her rear. “You shall take her cunt, and I will take her arse.”

“Finwë!” Elwë exclaimed, blushing despite how often he took Finwë up his own arse.

“You are a genius,” Míriel declared, twisting her neck to kiss Finwë. He was, she had to admit, her favorite lover. “But—let’s not do that for awhile. Not until I no longer ache from tonight.”

“Of course, fair Míriel,” he agreed, and curled even closer around her.

#silm #silmarillion #silm fic #finwe #miriel #thingol #elu thingol #elwe #elwe singollo #skyeventide #ot3 prompts #my writing #my fic #tefain nin #aching from tonight

[melestasflight]

For @nolofinweanweek a rec list of some of my favorite takes on Nolofinwëan characters. I tried to include diversity in styles and authors. These are all amazing, take my word!

Fingolfin: No Way You Can Fall by @hhimring

Anairë: His Brother’s Wife by @cuarthol

Fingon: Now a Quill, Now a Sword by @zealouswerewolfcollector

Turgon: Glasshouses by @searchingforserendipity25

Elenwë: So We Rise by @sallysavestheday

Aredhel: To Find a Home in the Twilight by yours truly

Eöl: Who chose the stars by @foxleycrow

Argon: Gone Astray by @maedhrus

Idril and Tuor: The Blessed by daphnerunning

Maeglin: Half Mourning by @skyeventide 

Eärendil: Ungoliant's Bane by @polutrope

Elwing: Carrying the Hope of All the World by @imakemywings

Elrond: Touch of a Vanished Hand by @elfscribe

Elros: You Belong Among the Wildflowers by @jaz-the-bard

Gil-galad: Remember no grievance by @ettelene

Celebrían: A Marriage Plot by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor

Arwen: A Web of Stars by @idrilsscribe

Nolofinwëan OCs: A Bridge in the City of Rivers by @grey-gazania featuring Ianneth of Mithrim, daughter of Annael and wife of Fingon.

#nolofinweanweek2023 #nolofinweans #fic recs #silmarillion #lord of the rings #tolkien #it was extremely difficult to pick a single fic for these characters! #also people need to write argon more

[shrikeseams]

Okay. Thinking about @myceliumelium's recent art of Aredhel and Celegorm, and also @skyeventide's tweet:

And I think I've settled on. Like. Aredhel and Luthien look nothing alike. If you put two mugshots of them, or two pieces of posed state portraiture side-by-side? Almost nothing in common in terms of features. Maybe similar coloring, but entirely different bone structure, facial expression, etc.

But I think they have very similar posture and body language. A specific mix of complete confidence and sense of vulnerability. A mix of deep avoidance of confrontation, and also surety in their ability to whoop the ass of anyone who tries them. A foundational knowledge that they can beat anyone they need to, but also wariness of the consequences of victory. Vivid physical presence, but also a deep abstraction or alienation from most social interaction. Constantly posed on the verge of both fight and flight.

So when Huan leads Luthien to Celegorm, and Celegorm sees them through the trees and brush, he can't see Luthien's face or features. Only the way she moves. And the way she moves is devastatingly familiar.

#Tolkien #San shoots the breeze

[anneapocalypse]

you couldn't call them extremely minor but I guess ser thrask and radonis. now if you want extremely minor in a historical sense, archon tidarion of blade of tidarion fame most definitely. I have a lot of unhinged thoughts for all that lore section.

By all means unhinge those thoughts, I am intrigued!

#ask anne #skyeventide #dragon age stuff

[nailsinmywall]

My new petit pocket-sized zine about the sons of feanor (includes this comic) will be available to purchase at the CP30 con in China later this year (if all goes well)! With beautiful words by the Best @samarqqand and @skyeventide !

I'm thinking about distributing a few copies in the rest of the world after if there is enough interest ❤️ Let me know!

[swanmaids]

original character-focussed fic recs

One of the best feelings for me as a fic writer in this fandom is when somebody tells me that they liked one of my original characters. Character creation can be hard work and nerve-wracking, so it’s really rewarding whenever people tell me that it’s paid off. This fandom has a wealth of fantastic, memorable original characters, so I wanted to make a recommendation list of some of my favourite fics that feature them. The fics in this list are a range of lengths, ratings, warnings, and themes, and I’m hoping everyone will be able to find something to their taste here.

Of course this list is not exhaustive, and I’m always open to more recommendations!

All the splendour they could bear by asterisq; t, 1k, cntw.

The Ar-Pharazôn (& Sauron) regime commissions art for the temple. The artist tries to survive the assignment.

Bitter Heart, Bitter Heart by thegreatpumpkin; f!Galathil/OFC, t, 20k, nawa.

She had loved her brother better once. She had loved them all better once; but too many times she had swallowed bitterness, and now her heart was all sown with ashes and salt. Noble Celeborn, wise Celeborn, shining in his place beside the king! Galathil was reminded at every turn of the ways in which she did not measure up.

The Bread Maker’s Lament by havisham; Morwen & OFC, t, 1k, nawa.

A young woman, living in First Age Hithlum, grapples with grief and loss, and bakes bread.

The Carpenter’s Son by @kareenvorbarra; OFC/OMC, m, 9k, rape/noncon.

An untold story of conquered Dor-lómin, in which an Easterling carpenter has a child by his Hadorian slave.

The Constant Gardner by tehta; OFC & Egalmoth, t, 4k, nawa.

Running Yavanna’s errands in First Age Middle-earth is a tough job, but someone has to do it.

To die in the light by @skyeventide; Maedhros & OFC, m, 6k, violence.

A thrall escapes Angband. This is the journey of what comes after.

Dwell in death’s shadow by @undercat-overdog; Curufin/Wife, g, 3.5k, nawa.

A child eavesdrops on an argument he was never meant to hear.

an ecstatic accident by void and fire by Chestnut_Pod; g, 0.5k, nawa.

Follow the blue roads of Arda.

The Elf Who Circumnavigated Arda in a Ship of Their Own Making by @arofili​; OC & OFC, g, 1k, nawa

Three letters home from a Telerin adventurer.

Far Too Many of You Dying by @starspray; OFC & Teleri, t, 1k, cntw.

After the Noldor depart, Alqualondë is left reeling.

Four Winters by @aipilosse; Celegorm & OFC, t, 6k, nawa.

Four winters in the life of Gwíneth, daughter of Urthel. A rescue, a hunt, a fall, and the abyss.

His Hour Had Come by @polutrope; Saeros & OFC, g, 1k, nawa.

Saeros' daughter reflects on the life and actions of her father.

Lost at Sea by starspray, Uinen & OFC, 0.4k, g, nawa.

An Avarin elf accidentally gets lost at sea and gets stuck halfway onto the Straight Road. Uinen helps out.

These Newborn Shores by @kazaera; t, 14k, nawa.

It's the early Second Age and the Host of the Valar have just departed. The disparate refugees now sitting on the new shores of Lindon, tasked with building the fleet of Númenor even as they are still reeling from Beleriand's destruction, must find a way to move forward despite their losses.

Figuring out where to get their clothes from would be a good place to start.

Not by the Hand of Man by Sath, Tar-Miriel/OFC, e, 7k, nawa.

After his chief priestess is assassinated, Sauron summons his most powerful servant, a woman of Far Harad, to Númenor.

on a long road (miles to go) by Solanaceae, g, 5k, cntw.

Andreth in the House of Adanel.

One Who Holds by @slightnettles Elrond & OFC, g, 4k, nawa.

As the War of Wrath and the breaking of Beleriand approach, a woman of the Easterlings meets a young Elrond.

SeaLight by Anerea; g, 0.3k, nawa.

A Telerin Elf's first experience of the waters of Belegaer, at the end of the Great Journey.

A Seduction by The_Wavesinger; Tar-Miriel/OFC, e, 2k, cntw.

Tar-Míriel attempts to take revenge on her husband by seducing his sister.

Si la mar fuera de leche by Chestnut_Pod, Elros/OFC, Elros & OCs, t, 23k, nawa.

Ten years after the Valar pulled Númenor dripping from the sea, Elros receives a visitor.

Starlit Waves by raiyana; Cirdan/OFC, m, 2k, nawa.

“Congratulations, my love, you have made a plank. Yet again.”   Dry tones teased his ears softly, the silent footsteps of his beloved Ngilith giving him no warning of her approach.

Talathien by maerzkindt; Haleth & OFCs g, 7k, nawa.

Linnoril, a woman from the group later known as House of Hador, returns to her mother's folk of the Haladin and joins the guard. An exploration of reconnecting, forming new bonds and playing fast and loose with First Age Edain lore.

The Thousand Stories by herenortherenearnorfar; OFC/OFC, t, 19k, mcd.

They're important, the myths people tell about themselves, about their histories. You can learn a lot from a tale or seven.

A Traitor’s Issue by herenortherenearnorfar; OFC & OFC,t, 16k, violence.

Ulfang's daughters(in-law) seek aid in the aftermath. Reckoning with their own grief and choices (or lack thereof) they navigate Angband, the nightmare they grew up with, now the only place they can turn for help.

The “Unmarried” Queen - Deficiencies in Numenorean Scholarship by Sath; Tar-Telperien/OFC, g, 1k, nawa.

Rosie Cotton and Samwise Gamgee's granddaughter, a scholar of short stature and lofty goals, finds an earth-shattering document being used to steady a table leg in Minas Tirith.

Willow-Meads by Narya_Flame; g, 5k, nawa.

a willow-spirit, some places she went, and the people she met.

the wind that shakes the mountain by platinum_firebird; OFC/OFC, t, 2k, nawa.

The tale of Mazlav, daughter of Temolv, chieftain of the Uzba clan; and of how she met her lover and companion-in-arms, Aalta of Ishahú.

With the Stars in the Darkness and the Love in the Light by Zdenka; Haleth/OFC, Haleth/Goldberry, Nellas/Goldberry, t, 3k, nawa.

At Nienor's request, the women of Brethil share stories and songs about Haleth, the river's daughter, and those they loved.

#my post #fic rec #the silm