#yes i just finished 'of maeglin' chapter and what can i say

[errruvande]

I have absolutely no time for that but I continued reading The Silmarillion and now I can't stop... Eöl is a jerk tho ✌🏼

#the silmarillion #yes i just finished 'of maeglin' chapter and what can i say #that's crazy👉🏼👈🏼

[ncfan-1]

Writer tag game

I was tagged by @anghraine!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

621, though that’s going to jump to 623 once they do reveals on Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3,253,336! To increase the moment I finally finish Under Observation!

3. What are you top 5 fics by kudos?

They’re all really, really old, which honestly kind of depresses me; nothing I’ve written since them has even touched the level of popularity they have, and I really do think the quality of my writing has improved a lot since then. Every time I sort my fics by kudos, I am reminded that I peaked in popularity back in 2014, and it’s all been downhill from there.

1. When the Truth Gets Out—the bog-standard ‘Gaang finds out how Zuko got his scar’ fic, 11,499 kudos. For real, I’m not sorry that this is my most popular fic, since I do think it’s good, even if it’s clunky by my present standards. I just keep waiting for something else to even remotely approach the level of popularity this fic has achieved, and nothing ever has.

2. Skin Deep—a companion to the above, a missing scene fic detailing Toph finding out Zuko has a scar on his face to start with, 9,888 kudos.

3. Little Lost Spirit—a Natsume Yuujinchou fic that I cannot for the life of me remember what it was about, as I first wrote it when I was in high school, 1,081 kudos.

4. On Forgiveness—a fic with Katara and Zuko talking about Zuko’s mom, 920 kudos.

5. Plans—a very short Mulan fic that I first wrote when I was in high school, 618 kudos.

4. Do you respond to fic or not?

I do try to, but a lot of the time I find that I don’t have the energy for it, even when the comments I get are very interesting and I would like to reply.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

For that, you’d probably have to go back to the literally hundreds of fics I never moved over from my Fanfiction.net account, since I was really in to writing gimdark fic when I was in high school. Of the fics that come to mind on my AO3 account, In the Shadows is the one that stands out the most, since Shizuka suffers her canon fate of dying while being totally disregarded by her family.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Again, I don’t really write fics specifically for them to have happy endings. I do like hopeful endings, or at least endings that involve the possibility of hope, since I’m not in high school anymore and grimdark does not appeal to me anymore. Probably The Festival of Shells, since it’s early enough on in the bliss of Valinor that there isn’t a shadow over anything.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Very, very occasionally. I would definitely say that the weirdest (weird as in you would never think to mesh the two together) crossover I’ve ever written is the one where I transplanted characters from Natsume Yuujinchou into a setting very like that of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I’ve written for unpopular ships in the past, so yes. I got spammed with suicide baiting comments on all of my fics for a particular Naruto ship within the space of about fifteen minutes many years ago. I rolled my eyes and deleted the comments. I also got a rape threat when I was starting out on Fanfiction.net. Fun times.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Very, very, very occasionally. I really, really have to be in the mood for it, there are only a select few ships I can even bring myself to write it for, and the unifying experience is that all of it has been some flavor of dubcon, most of it with fantastical elements involved.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I seem to recall learning years ago that someone had copy-pasted a few dozen of my fics to Goodreads, or something like that. I definitely recall sending a ‘take them down right now’ letter to the site.

(@anghraine, they published yours on Amazon?!)

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have had a few of mine translated to Russian.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I haven’t.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I have several ships that I move away from and come back to like the tide coming in and out, but right now my biggest one is Aredhel/her freedom. Second is probably Finduilas x Maeglin.

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

Face to Face, augh. Everybody, say hello to the fic that inspired me to make my rule that I never, ever post a WIP before I have finished writing all of the chapters, because if there is anything I’ve learned about myself, it’s that I get discouraged when I don’t get a lot of feedback, even when it’s for something I know isn’t going to get a whole lot of attention, and it’s better to just finish the fic in its entirety before posting than to risk dropping the whole project and having its unfinished corpse haunt my dreams. Ahem.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I would say characterization and description.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Conflict, most likely. I sometimes hesitate in being as ‘mean,’ for lack of a better term, to characters as the situation really calls for being. I think I pull my punches with them more than I really should, sometimes.

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

It can be handled well, but I think that I particularly should not do it, as I do not have a strong enough grasp of the languages my characters would be speaking to make it any better than completely cringeworthy.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The first fandom I ever published fic for was Star Wars. The first fandom I ever wrote fic for, back when I was thirteen, was Teen Titans.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

That varies a lot, but right now, I would say probably Saudade. I’m really proud of it, and I don’t think I’m wrong to be.

Tagging: whoever wants to do it

#Fic meme #Writing meme #Fanfic meme

[sunflowersupremes]

The Wraith in the Hills: Chapter 3

Arda is a bit too peaceful for the reborn Glorfindel, so when he hears rumors of a wraith-like creature that lives near Bree, he goes on a hunt.

Notes: This takes place in the Third Age, with the canon that Glorfindel wasn’t reembodied until after the end of the Second Age.

Characters: Glorfindel, Elrond, Maeglin, Maglor

Read on AO3

Glorfindel spent most of the next day training, hitting training dummies with his sword until they fell apart.

“Lord Elrond’s looking for you.” He stopped and turned, giving an irritated look to the messenger. “He said it’s important.”

He wanted nothing more than to tell the messenger exactly where he could stick the message, but instead, he swallowed and nodded. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth.

Elrond was sitting beside Maeglin’s bed, the elf’s wounded arm laid out beside him.

“How is he?” Glorfindel asked, leaning against the doorframe and trying to keep his distance.

“He was awake earlier. But still delirious.” Elrond straightened up, then motioned for Glorfindel to come closer. “I loathe to leave him alone, but I cannot stay with him.” Realizing that the healer had been with Maeglin since the night before, a feeling of guilt washed over him.

But at the thought of staying with Maeglin, Glorfindel’s insides churned uncomfortably. “I’m not certain-”

“Please,” Elrond said softly. “I could have someone else, but if he wakes-”

“He won’t be happy to see me,” Glorfindel said quickly.

“From what I gathered of his ramblings earlier, he thinks you’re a hallucination. Or perhaps that he, himself is a hallucination.” Elrond shook his head. “Either way, I think he would be better-”

“Fine.” Glorfindel sighed, gritting his teeth. “Just let me get a book.”

-----------

“I don’t know when he’ll wake,” Elrond said, once Glorfindel had returned. “You’ve given him a great deal of power, which has sped the healing process, but even then-”

“He almost died,” Glorfindel finished.

Elrond nodded. Then he paused, studying Glorfindel curiously. “Do you hate him?”

“No,” Glorfindel shrugged. “I left all of that behind when they released me from Mandos.”

“But you’re still conflicted?”

“I should hate him,” Glorfindel admitted after a moment. “I should be angry with him. But-” he sighed, looking down at the pale elf on the bed. “I just want to know why.”

“Oh?” Elrond asked. “I can answer that.”

Glorfindel folded his arms over his chest. “Do tell.”

“His father murdered his mother while trying to kill him, then his uncle killed his father. Then, to make it worse, he had to live with his uncle.”

“You cannot be blaming Turgon!”

Elrond shrugged. “From what I can tell, my great-grandfather was not the most attentive guardian-”

“Maeglin was an adult-”

The healer seemed unimpressed. “Everyone knew he was in love with my grandmother, yes?”

“He didn’t hide it! It was an open secret! We didn’t discuss-”

“You didn’t discuss it.” Elrond deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “Someone should have helped him, talked to him.” His voice was suddenly quiet, and Glorfindel had to strain to hear his next words, “He needed a parental figure that wouldn’t abandon him, although, I suppose it runs in the family.”

Before Glorfindel could press the subject, Elrond was on his feet and out the door. “Let me know if he needs me,” he called over his shoulder. “If he wakes, give him some broth.”

Glorfindel sighed and dropped onto the chair the healer had vacated, giving the unconscious elf an irritated look. “Brat,” he said.

He had a hard time focusing on his book, constantly checking on Maeglin out of the corner of his eye. But the elf didn’t move. In fact, he barely seemed to breathe.

Elrond was correct in one thing: he hadn’t fully processed what was happening. He’d tried not to, in fact. Not until he could talk to Maeglin.

He glanced at the sleeping elf, then placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Someone - most likely Elrond - had cleaned him up, and in the daylight, when he wasn’t covered in grime, he could better measure how sickly Maeglin was.

The former prince - but he supposed Maeglin was technically still a prince - was horrifically underweight. Although a blanket covered most of him, he could see scars on his chest, arms, and even one that went from his forehead to his left cheek.

Then, Maeglin’s eyes opened.

Glorfindel couldn’t look away quick enough, and Maeglin stared at him, blinking slowly. “Where-” he began.

“Rivendell,” Glorfindel said, closing his book slowly.

Maeglin nodded.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

Glorfindel nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, although he knew that he needed to say something. Finally, he swallowed and said, “I’m supposed to make you eat.”

“Fine.”

Elrond had left the broth near the fire, so it was still warm when Glorfindel poured it into a cup and brought it to Maeglin. Although the elf reached for it with his good hand, Glorfindel brushed him away, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding the glass to his lips. “Open your mouth.”

He slowly poured the liquid into Maeglin’s mouth, then paused, letting him swallow, before giving him a bit more. They repeated the process until Maeglin had managed to drink most of the glass, then he set it aside.

The simple act of eating seemed to have worn Maeglin out, and he yawned.

“What happened to your arm?” Glorfindel asked, unable to stand the silence.

“Pissed off a bear,” Maeglin replied.

“Why?”

“I wanted honey.” His face flushed red, although, for the first time since Glorfindel had found him, it didn’t seem to be from fever.

“You liked honeyed pastries,” Glorfindel said slowly, the memory coming back to him. “I caught you stealing one, once.” A grin spread over his lips. “I paid for it to keep you out of trouble.”

Maeglin had nothing to say to that, turning his head away from Glorfindel. “You used to steal things a lot,” Glorfindel recalled.

“Hmm,” was all Maeglin would say.

“Why?” He’d never thought to ask before. It had just been something he was aware of. Another thing that everyone had ignored. It had been well known that if Maeglin stole something, you should just let him and Turgon would reimburse it.

Maeglin remained silent.

Glorfindel patted his good shoulder. “Let me tell Elrond you’re awake,” he said, standing. “I’ll be back.”

He found Elrond in his study, pouring over a map. “Sightings of the Wraith,” he explained, stepping aside so Glorfindel could examine it.

Red dots marked the surface, each one listing who had reported it. A Mortal Farmer. A stablehand of Imladris. Hunters from Bree. Cirdan. He had even marked where Kanafinwe had found him.

Glorfindel tapped his finger on the map. “The cave where I found him,” he said.

Elrond nodded and marked it.

“Why do you have this?”

Elrond only shrugged. “I have one tracking Kanfinwe and one for Daeron as well.”

“I saw Lindir in the library.”

Elrond shook his head and chuckled. “I shall add that to my map,” he promised.

“Maeglin’s awake,” Glorfindel said. “He ate a bit.”

“I should check on him,” Elrond mused, folding away his map with a frown. “Does he seem well?”

“He was attacked by a bear,” Glorfindel said. “He spoke, a bit.”

Back in Maeglin’s room, the injured elf was staring out the window, his eyes blank. But he turned when they entered, watching them warily.

Glorfindel hung back as Elrond moved closer, sitting beside him and reaching for his arm. “May I?” he asked gently.

Maeglin nodded, allowing Elrond to unwrap his arm and study the wound. “It seems to be healing well,” he said softly.

“He may be able to help your leg,” Glorfindel called. “But he needs your permission.”

Elrond turned sharply, giving Glorfindel a stern look over his shoulder.

“He’s already in pain,” Glorfindel explained. “What’s a bit more?”

“A bit more pain isn’t what worries me,” Elrond replied. “He’s still siphoning your energy, even if you haven’t realized it. If he takes anymore, it could kill you both.”

Maeglin gave Glorfindel a nasty look, as though he was angry that Glorfindel had dared to let him have his strength. “I hadn’t noticed,” Glorfindel confessed.

“He is,” Elrond said. “I had suspected it, but he’s improved monumentally since I left you with him.”

“How do I stop?” Maeglin rasped.

“You don’t,” Elrond replied, rewrapping the wound. “Not unless it starts to harm Glorfindel. At the moment, it’s keeping you alive.”

Maeglin didn’t seem happy about that, but he said nothing else, sinking into the bed and closing his eyes. Elrond turned back to Glorfindel. “Can you stay with him a bit longer?”

The guard nodded hesitantly. “Of course,” he said.

“If you begin to feel weak, come for me immediately,” Elrond said. “I can break the connection and still keep him alive, but he would heal far more slowly.”

“I’ll be fine,” Glorfindel promised, dropping back into the chair beside Maeglin.

#elrond #glorfindel #maeglin #silmfic #silmarillion #series: the wraith #my writing

[garden-ghoul]

children of hurin, part the last

“but what will I read now? jk I know it’s the akallabeth”

CHAPTER 18: THE DEATH OF TURIN

Turin wakes up. The first things he notices, in order, are:  -it’s cold -his hand hurts -his hand has been wrapped and well-moistened (with tears) -dead dragons smell SO AWFUL

The first thing he does after getting up is tell his sword that it’s much tougher than him and tell it “But come! I must go seek aid.” I’m so glad he is talking to his evil sword, it’s very cute. It also says that “the light of [Gurthang’s] edges was undimmed,” which gives me a sickass mental image of this black sword with like, a corona, like an eclipse. So whatever angle you view it from it looks like it’s outlined in pale fire. I’m going to have to draw Turin just so I have an excuse to render this evil sword. Actually, was it black before it was reforged in Nargothrond? Because if so, I could just draw Maeglin with its twin and not have to make a picture of Turin at all. ...After a little research, it seems like the fire is sourced in Nargothrond, but like, I don’t care. I’ll draw Anguirel as an evil talking sword with pale fire as well, you can’t stop me.

Turin makes his way to where a bunch of people are camped out, and everyone immediately starts calling Brandir a liar for saying he was dead. Turin tells them to be cool, Brandir was clearly braver than all of them since he actually came to the battlefield! Brandir, my best dude! Then someone tells him that Brandir said “Turin is dead, thank goodness,” and Turin does a 180 on the spot and says he KNEW Brandir was a treacherous weasel the whole time. You literally just finished telling everyone how Brandir is the best among them, you hypocrite. Examine ur heart for eight seconds. No I think it’s kind of... cute how Turin has no capacity for introspection, for fear of what he’ll find there. It’s something I like in a baddish protagonist.

Brandir tells Turin that Niniel = Nienor = his sister, so, wow asshole?? Turin doesn’t believe him until he tells the whole story with Glaurung, and then he still only kind of believes him, and also threatens to kill him because that is just Turin’s MO. Brandir makes a great speech of courage:

Then Brandir, seeing his death in Turin's face, stood still and did not quail, though he had no weapon but his crutch; and he said: “All that has chanced is a long tale to tell, and I am weary of you. But you slander me, son of Hurin. Did Glaurung slander you? If you slay me, then all shall see that he did not.”

Then he ruins it by saying that if he dies he’ll get to be with Niniel, which just makes him look kind of desperate and weird because she was married. If he hadn’t said that Turin would look like a real dick killing him, but as it is Turin has a comeback for it, which includes Brandir’s death. Everyone watching is like What The Fuck, and they run for it because what is Turin’s problem? 

Turin also runs off, to weep on Haudh-en-Elleth, and luckily Mablung (in a party of twelve, AGAIN, do elves just... organize their military in squads of twelve? That might explain a lot) happens to be passing by. Turin asks desperately after his mother and sister, only for Mablung to have to say he lost them, and tell how Nienor was bewitched by the dragon and fled to Brethil. Then Turin says something very puzzling, that maybe you can help me decode:

“O the fair Nienor! So she ran from Doriath to the Dragon, and from the Dragon to me. What a sweet grace of fortune! Brown as a berry she was, dark was her hair; small and slim as an Elf-child, none could mistake her!”

Then Mablung was amazed, and he said: “But some mistake is here. Not such was your sister. She was tall, and her eyes were blue, her hair fine gold, the very likeness in woman's form of Hurin her father. You cannot have seen her!”

Is Turin... joking? What’s the point of that? Was he hypnotized to see her as someone who doesn’t look just like his dad?

Anyway, Turin is so upset to have this confirmed that he also runs off to the river to kill himself. Like sister, like brother. He asks Gurthang if it will kill him, which is an extremely puzzling thing to do because his sword has not shown any sign that it is a talking sword. Maybe behind the scenes, I guess. Well, it totally is a talking sword it turns out!! It says, “Yes, I will drink your blood, that I may forget the blood of Beleg my master, and the blood of Brandir slain unjustly. I will slay you swiftly.” He impales himself on Gurthang, and Mablung’s company comes to burn the dragon and bury him.

After some amount of time, Morgoth releases Hurin for some handwavey purpose (to increase misery) and he goes and finds Morwen on their children’s grave. What the hell was Morwen doing this entire time? They have a very cute exchange, where she tells him that he is extremely late. It’s the sweetest thing, that she never stopped believing with 100% certainty that he was going to come back. And he did! Get fucked, Morgoth.

She dies. Hurin goes off to fuck some things up elsewhere.

CHILDREN OF HURIN IS OVER. THANK GOODNESS.

#hurin blog #silm