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tathrin · 1 year

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If Finrod is Legolas's other dad, explain Lorien.

Reference is to this post, and also I'm tagging @z-h-i-e because this is their ship-baby, I just popped in to sprinkle some additional inspiration because my brain went "ooh hey!" when their post crossed my dash because that's the kind of supportive community fandom is supposed to be made of fyi.

Right, so. There's no sense of tone in straight-text communication on the internet, so I know that it's entirely possible that this ask was sent in the spirit of giggling-with-popcorn delight while you eagerly await the resulting explanation. It's equally possible that you're playing at being The Ship Police and challenging me in the expectation that I won't be able to make this Just For Funsies ship sail without floundering on the rocks of canon.

Either way: buckle up. Because the boats of Lórien don't sink.

Because when Legolas gets to the woods of Lothlórien with the rest of the Fellowship, he's delighted. He's never actually been here before! He's heard all the stories, and listened avidly, but. well. Thranduil and Galadriel both blame the other a little bit for the nasty way Finrod died (they know it's not the other's fault so they don't say anything, either to each other or anyone else but, well. it feels like it ought to be the other one's fault, somehow).

And there's all that tension re: Doriath still, and why Galadriel couldn't just pick-up where Melian her teacher left off and maintain the Girdle afterwards—because I'm not a maia, Thranduil, you ass! Oh, so you couldn't even TRY?—especially because she then proceeds to do basically that for Lórien just a few thousand years later...and of course Galadriel thinks it's Oropher's fault that so many of Lothlórien's elves died in the Last Alliance, because if only he hadn't been so reckless and pig-headed then surely Amdír would never have thought up that idiotic suicidal charge on his own...and if she'd maybe tried a little harder to rein-in the son/nephew of the Kinslayers, maybe Sauron would never have even made the Rings, and Mirkwood would still be Greenwood, which you'll note she can't be arsed to extend her convenient semi-girdle to either...and if he wasn't so damn prideful maybe somebody could help his precious stupid spider-forest...etc etc.

They aren't like. enemies. but they don't really get along anymore, either. They don't talk. (There's a reason the elves of Green/Mirkwood were moving north even before Sauron took up housekeeping in Dol Guldur.) So even though Lothlórien is like maybe a week's walk away, Legolas hasn't actually been here before. And he is stoked! Because he's always wanted to visit, but he didn't want to hurt his remaining dad's feelings by being like "bye, gonna go visit my aunt whom you haven't spoken to in like three thousand years, nbd!" so he never did — but here they are now, and it's part of the Quest, so it's not like Legolas just popped in for a visit, is it? He's doing something that just happened to bring him here, so Thranduil can't take it personally, and...well, here he is! At last! This is awesome! He's so excited to see his aunt's fabled forest!

And then they want to blindfold him!? He's FINALLY in Lórien, and he's not even allowed to look at the place!? This is his aunt's forest, for fuck's sake — he is an elf and a kinsman here, dammit! No wonder he goes from zero-to-sixty re: "golly Gimli don't be so stubborn" => "hOw dARe yOu!?!?!?" when the blindfold is suggested. He's not just pissed, he's taking it personally. Because he's family.

Okay so far so good, but when the Fellowship comes before Celeborn and Galadriel why doesn't anyone say anything about Legolas literally being their nephew, one might ask? Ah! Well, that's because we have Hobbits for our narrators, and they simply don't know elvish family trees well enough to catch that detail. Which is why when Celeborn says "Welcome son of Thranduil! Too seldom do my kindred journey hither from the North," it's perhaps a little more pointed of a statement than the Hobbits know. Celeborn is saying long time no see nephew, how nice of you to visit FINALLY. But Legolas and Thranduil have called themselves "Wood-elves" since moving to Greenwood, so the fact that he's actually half-Noldor just never gets mentioned, because it's not like it's relevant, is it? He doesn't mention being half-Sindar either. He calls himself a Wood-elf because he is a Wood-elf...by adoption. So why would the Hobbits even think to ask?

And we know that Galadriel uses ósanwë on everybody, so why wouldn't she be using it with her own nephew? What better way to have a private family chat, after all? And she doesn't say anything aloud to anyone while Celeborn is greeting everybody else, and it's not like Galadriel really needs to listen to the "hellos" either; perhaps she and Legolas have a little mental confab just the two of them while everybody else is settling in. You could easily write that in, if you wanted to, without breaking any of the existing canon.

After that, we actually have a perfect textural opening for Legolas to go hang with his aunt and uncle some more: while the rest of the Fellowship doesn't see Galadriel and Celeborn again until the Mirror and then their departure, the book says "Legolas was away much among the Galadhrim, and after the first night he did not sleep with the other companions, though he returned to eat and talk with them." So we know that Legolas is going off to hang-out with the Lórien elves...a.k.a. Aunt Galadriel. Probably sleeping in the guest bedroom and pestering her for embarrassing stories about his dads. And maybe asking her for tips on how to talk to dwarves without putting your foot in your mouth since she's clearly got experience.

And no, none of them went in for stuff like gushing hugs when they meet...but if they haven't spoken to one another in a few thousand years, and probably didn't spend all that much time together even before that (Galadriel and Thranduil weren't much in any of the same places after Doriath fell) then they wouldn't likely be all that cuddly with one another anyway, would they? Distant-but-fond seems like the order of the day to me, and you can definitely read their fleeting interactions in the book that way. (A kickass bow potentially strung with your own hair is a great gift for a nephew you don't know well who's about to go off into danger! I bet he could even shoot-down a Ringwraith with a bow like that!) Tense-and-awkward-but-trying-to-be-polite would work too, of course; depends on what kind of drama you want.

So yeah, actually I think it's perfectly reasonable to posit that Galadriel could potentially be Legolas's aunt; I've seen several fics that present Celeborn and Thranduil as cousins or some other close relative, and nobody gets shirty about the canocity of that kinship re: the Lórien scenes, so why wouldn't the connection be just as acceptable to come via Finrod and Galadriel instead? There's nothing in the text that I know of that says it can't be canon.

Anyway, Finrod-as-Legolas's-other-dad wasn't actually meant to be a serious "look how well canon supports this idea, it's definitely a very plausible thing that people should embrace in a wholly serious and canonical manner" theory to begin with. I was just having fun. Somebody said, "hey check out their weird rare ship, it's a lot of fun!" and my brain had a lightbulb moment and went "ooh what if you took that silly fun ship and leaned-in even harder with it, though?" and here we are.

Does a marriage between Thranduil and Finrod actually fit with all the canon of the Silm? I don't know, probably not; then again it might, simply because so much of the Silm is vague, especially when it comes to the elves of Mirkwood who barely even get mentioned once or twice. Personally I prefer having Legolas be born in Mirkwood and to be relatively young for an elf when Fellowship starts (there's no canon about that either way, I just like the vibes of it). However, this ship is a lot of fun too. In fact, I think it's already my favorite idea for an older-Legolas-with-ties-to-important-people take on the character, if that's how you want to take the character, simply because it is so much fun.

Do I think it's canon? No, of course not. But who cares? We're not writing Academic Articles on Accurate Tolkien Scholarship, we're writing fanfiction. We're having fun. So if you're a giggling-with-popcorn anon: good, awesome, glad to have you here enjoying the fun too. If you're a Ship Police Anon...well, acab and farewell because I frankly just do not have the time to give a shit about what somebody else ships or doesn't. Block the tag and move on.

#anon i grew up on x-men comics #AND the original star wars EU which fyi was an absolute clusterfuck #and spent my childhood plotting the most detailed and accurate AUs with my brother and our action figures that you can imagine #it often took an hour just to get the backstory set up so we could start playing #you think i can't make something with continuity as vague as lotr work the way i want it to?#please. i've never met a plothole i couldn't either pave-over or squirm my way around #believe you me anon: i have not yet begun to contort canon #this was easy this was nothing i could have concocted this in my sleep #my only weakness in this fight is that i simply don't KNOW silm-era canon off the top of my head #but i assure you that whatever nitpick you can present i will find a way through over or around #it's a weird and generally useless skill but i have a ridiculous knack for tap-dancing around canon #so go ahead bring it on i'm invested now let's spite-ship this all the way back to valinor XD #thranduil #finrod #legolas #thranduil x finrod #bling kings #shipping #my stuff #lotr #legolas has two daddies

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man-down-in-hatchet-town · 11 months

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Pulp Musicals and... Thoth??

I would say apologies to all of my followers having to deal with my incredibly wordy Pulp Musicals melt-down this morning, but mostly I just want to say "please please listen to these I promise you want regret it."

Now back my regularly scheduled wordy meltdown. Spoiler alert: I think I figured out what the green statuette on top of MAIA is!

So this morning I posted my analysis of the default MAIA drawing (here) and talked a bit about the green statuette, and how I couldn't figure out exactly what it was but suspected that it somehow linked to Samuel. I also mentioned that it looked vaguely Egyptian. @its-short-for-jackalope then put in the notes that Samuel is after all a writer and reporter, so the statuette could perhaps be an Egyptian scribe. I googled Egyptian scribe statues and none of them really looked right, so I then looked up the Egyptian patron God of Scribes.

His name is Thoth. He's often depicted as just a guy with a bird's head, but there are several depictions both from ancient times and from more recent eras (which doesn't bother me, as Pulp itself takes place way after Ancient Egypt... so far) where he wears a certain type of headdress and looks like this:

And here is once again the blown-up image of the statuette from the MAIA drawing:

I mean... I might be crazy but there's a definite resemblance there. It's a front angle, so our view is pretty odd, but could the blue smear I previously called a beard instead be a long, hooked beak? It's a definite possibility, and I did say there was something inhuman about the face (though at the time I went with "dog" oops).

So I'm pretty much convinced that the statuette is Thoth.

And here's the kicker: in addition to being the patron god of scribes, Thoth is the God of sacred texts, mathematics, science, and magic, as well as the master of knowledge and the messenger and recorder of the Gods. And, maybe most importantly of all, he is the God of the Moon.

So, yeah. Good enough for me.

So what does this mean if each item represents an episode or member of our quartet?

Well, one interpretation is that Ancient Egypt, and perhaps her Gods, will come into play as a central element of a future episode. This would mean that Samuel is instead represented by the globe (unlikely as the Earth is much more within John's line of symbolism), the rocket (unlikely for young man from 1835), or the crack in the wall (also not likely but by process of elimination nonetheless the least unlikely...which is terrifying), or else I'm completely wrong about each of the four protagonists having their own symbol (which makes Rose and Margaret having their own objects when the boys don't very, ah, weird and interesting).

But personally I think the Thoth statuette could still represent Samuel. Thoth is the god of scribes, after all, and that's what Samuel is. And just as Thoth is the messenger and recorder for the Gods, Samuel accidentally woke something inside of Margaret, essentially sending a message from the moon to her latent "divinity" (let's be real, by Ancient Egyptian standards Margaret and the Traveler would be Gods), and is now in a position to record for posterity what he sees and learns of these godlike beings. I'm also working on a theory that Samuel is literally the key to Margaret's gate, and I think that would fit with him being represented by Thoth, especially if the gate ends up being in/on the moon. But more about that after we've finally gotten to see Episode 3...

Unless that Episode completely discredits that theory before I even have time to post it. We'll just have to see.

But that statue is almost definitely Thoth, yeah?

#matt and jackie I know you guys have the pulp tumblr and follow the pulp tag are you reading all of this?#Embarrassing for me if so lol #I hope you're enjoying these posts and I'm not making too much of a fool of myself #guys I feel insane #pulp musicals #samuel stratford #pulp musicals theory #margaret cavendish #matt dahan #thoth

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baladric · 1 year

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💘💫🤍🪄 🦋 for the ask thing!

ehehe thank u anon!!!!

💘 Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

honestly kind of all of them? i am chronically dissatisfied with my end products—mostly because i look back at them and see nothing so much as pacing issues, and a propensity to attribute too much emotional intelligence to my pov characters. i'm not going to rewrite them, but if i had a perfect world and limitless time, i'd rework both Sweet Hope and a pearl in my hand. they're both so good, but they could be so much better :')

💫 What is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

i'm very partial to the comments that involve people quoting the bits that personally victimized them >:3c with a very loud shout-out to the wildly sincere and personal ones—i write because reading has helped me through every hard moment in my life, and hearing that i've given that gift to other people means the fucking world to me

🤍 What's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

i think generally people pick up what i'm laying down, but one thing that irks me a little is a minor trend of people reading Sweet Hope and walking out with the "Maia Drazhar Is An UwU Cinnamon Roll" thing still lodged in their heads. as a person who's been categorized by many abusers/toxic loved ones as A Faultless Ray Of Sunshine, i can say that it's an awful, awful place to be, and unfortunately i take my job as Disillusioner Of Maia Drazhar's Fawn Image very personally whoops, which was kind of a central motivator for me in writing that story? like that's one of the core themes, right? maia's aunt attributes a faultless and innate Goodness™ to maia, and everyone gets Upsetti about that because they all recognize that maia chooses to be good, though he has every reason in the world to be callous and cruel—and that it's the deliberate choice of compassion and consideration that defines him, and not some like. idk built-in Sweetness Coding. he is not good or sweet—he chooses goodness and sweetness, and that distinction is very, very important to me, and to my interpretation of maia, because it allows for the complexity of human (elvish lmao) error. he doesn't always say the right thing, nor should he be expected to by those closest to him. he doesn't always make the correct choice, nor does anyone. so like. idk!! he's not A Cinnamon Roll!!! that is very reductive to me and rubs me very wrong!!!!!!!!

🪄 What is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

if it's a longer fic, there is a great deal of celebratory shouting and probably some excited dancing, followed by a jittery lap around the house before obsessively refreshing the fic page to watch the hits go up lmaooooo. for ficlets, i tend to say "NICE" very loudly, drop it and go do something else with a warm ember of satisfaction in my heart. usually there is a little drink involved in both of these.

🦋 What are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

oh boy uhh, everything kind of!! i worry a lot about my characterizations, bc i definitely have Opinions and i've come this far without getting my ass cancelled but i do worry about dumb stuff like oh no what if people don't like that i refuse to believe goblin emperor elves are all Literally paper-white and perfectly blonde or shit i shouldn't have leaned so hard into selectively mute link. and i do worry too about the self-indulgent Breakdown parts of my writing, eg the whole scene in Sweet Hope of maia breaking down at the opera or the big in pearl in my hand where link wigs the fuck out on sidon. those always feel too loud to me, somehow, like i've allowed myself and my characters too much license or awareness or Clarity or something? i usually refuse to reread those parts of stories tbh. like i'll do a cursory editing pass and then never ever touch those sections again bc i just get so embarrassed ;alkdfjwa;d

fic writer ask meme!!

#aj answers #anonymous ask #ask #ask meme

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newpersonblog · 8 months

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[cis female, she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [MAIA WOLF]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [ASHLEY PARK]. You must be the [THIRTY THREE] year old [LIFESTYLE BLOGGER]. Word is you’re [BUBBLY] but can also be a bit [VACUOUS] and your favorite song is [YOU GOTTA BE by DES’REE]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [CRYSTAL COVE CONDOMINIUMS]. I’m sure you’ll love it! [indi, 29, gmt, she/her]

Building yourself up to someone who seemingly has everything when you come from literally nothing is a talent in itself. So when people ask Maia if she has any skills she replies with a resounding yes, because that’s exactly what she did.

Born in Brooklyn to a single mom she was only six months old when they were evicted from their home and forced to move into a women’s shelter to avoid having to live on the street. Janet Wolf was a good if slightly detached mother to her two children. The oldest being Cory Wolf who was two years older than his baby sister, Maia Wolf. People always remarked when Janet’s youngest was born that the girl seemed like a fighter - almost two months premature she was only 3.5lbs when she made her entrance into the world, totally unexpected but that would later become a bit of a trend for her.

Spending her entire childhood moving between shelters, temporary housing, and foster care Maia was never really anywhere long enough to get accustomed to stability. It was a lot for a little girl to cope with so she would often slip into her own fantasy worlds that she created in her mind, a form of protection, somewhere she knew she could always go no matter what else was taken away from her. Even her schooling was disruptive as she was moved from place to place which meant her grades never managed to get above a C+ on a good day. Not that she minded, her sights weren’t set on anything academic, rather Maia wanted to build for herself all the things she’d never had. Fortune, notoriety, stability, and security. She thought it would come via her singing talent and in a way she was right, but it wasn’t that she rose to become to superstar musician she thought she’d be.

At twenty and with no formal training at all she took a risk going to some open auditions that were being held for a new off Broadway musical, Heathers. Desperate to situate herself under the bright footlights of the theatre she gave the audition her all but mortifyingly came up short, being turned down after managing to get through three rounds. So close and yet so far. But her upbringing had instilled a sense of tenacity in the young woman so she instead started her own ‘lifestyle’ instagram, full of fictionalised shopping trips and stays at five star hotels. That trick you’ve seen on TikTok of using a toilet seat to simulate an airplane window? Maia might as well have coined that technique because you would be forgiven for thinking after a look at her social media that she was constantly jetting off across the world rather than sitting in a studio apartment in the Bronx covered in black mould and patches of damp.

It turns out though, she did catch the eye of one of the producers at that one time audition she chanced, and not long after her twenty fifth birthday she was contacted to come in for another audition. This time for the musical adaptation of Mean Girls. It turned out the social media following she’d gathered was an added attraction to the production team and in her very own Anna Delvey style she managed to land the role of Gretchen Wieners in the original cast. From that moment on things went from zero to one hundred overnight. The fictional life she was posting on her instagram started to become a reality, her follower count skyrocketed, and she was finally on stable ground financially. It was a dream come true.

All the press for the show lead to her being noticed by modelling scouts and soon Maia was signed up with agents in New York, Los Angeles, and Paris. Being called in for photoshoots to be put in magazines everything became a lot more glittery, and the best thing of all was no one knew where Maia had come from. Of the way she had manipulated her image back when she had nothing to make herself seem like a someone, and now it didn’t matter, because she truly was a someone.

Chancing on Aurora Bay when she was doing a swimwear shoot about six years ago Maia fell in love with the quaint little town that was just a stones throw from Los Angeles - it was the perfect middle ground for her idyllic lifestyle persona. Launching a blog in conjunction with her instagram there was nothing Maia couldn’t sell to the chronically online masses, photos of her perfectly decorated house coupled with homemade cakes (I mean… not by her, obviously) and glamorous modelling photos she had really captured the eyes of the nation. A socialite of a sort, she had made the claim both her parents had passed to make her facade easier to manipulate.

Vivacious, larger than life, and always with something to say there was really no escaping Maia when she was in the general vicinity. Her laugh was boisterous, her opinions outrageous, and in general she was just a lot. The woman found it often distracted people from getting to know her too deeply if she flashed around treating them like social magpies. With no knowledge of what ended up happening to her mother or her brother she tries to repress all thoughts of them in order to focus on this new life. Under the glitter lies the secret of who she really is and her fear of that ruining everything she’s managed to build is enough to keep her tossing and turning in bed each night.

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anaisonfire · 2 years

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I was reading fic and was suddenly hit with the overwhelming desire for Daeron/Maglor secret marriage.

They meet at the Mereth Aderthad, of course. Sparks fly. (Supposed-to-be one night stand optional.) One thing leads to another and they (due to various factors, not least of which in-the-moment impulsive decision making, though neither will admit it later) end up getting married, slightly before the Dagor Bragollach. Oops.

Given the political tension between the Noldor (and especially the Sons of Feanor) and Doriath, they can't just go in front of Thingol/Fingolfin/Maedhros and announce it, of course. They decide to keep it on the down low (read: not mention to anyone) until such a time they can figure out some way to break the news and maybe even spin it as a good political move that offends the minimum amount of their easily offended people.

Then: Battle of Sudden Flame. Fingolfin challenges Morgoth and dies. The timing is definitely not right.

The timing, in fact, gets progressively worse as events start happening and then don't stop happening.

The Luthien thing is a sore point for multiple reasons. Whether you take Daeron as just a friend (obviously he's not in love with her here, his motivations are somewhat different) or as her brother, the end result is the same: when he can't find Luthien after she slips away, he ends up going to Maglor. He is still there (though his presence isn't known by many) when news of Celegorm and Curufin's actions and the Silmaril Quest reach them.

The ensuing fight is not pretty. (Or quiet. Though it's anyone's guess what impression the people of Himring came away with.)

(Maedhros won't stand for any of Maglor's evasive non-answers. Eventually, Maglor caves in and tells him... something. I can't decide if later events are more tragic if Maedhros knows or doesn't.)

They say some horrible things to each other and Daeron is just. Done. He leaves, as fast as one can leave a fortress like Himring, and goes East. He's not sure, then, if he means to never return - maybe they'll give it some time, instead, and talk again later and go from there.

Of course, then the rest of the First Age happens.

Suffice to say, Daeron and Maglor don't meet, let alone talk, for quite a while after that.

(And if both of them regret, occasionally, in the dead of night, their last words to each other being bitter and harsh, well. Neither the woods nor the sea are prone to gossip.)

...

The round world keeps turning. Ages pass. The time of the Elves in Middle Earth draws to a close and passes from legend into myth. Dwarves go deep into their kingdoms and the surface forgets them. Hobbits hide away from the world and become little more than fairy tales. Gondor rises and falls and rises again. The world of Men is in constant flux and slowly - and yet quickly, as is the way of mortals - it changes.

And still, in the deepest forests and on the most isolated beaches, the two greatest minstrels of all the Children of Iluvatar wander.

...

With that being said, there's a limit to how many thousands of years one can both be alone and stay alive. (And neither of them particularly wants to die. Not really.)

If someone were to ever compare notes and timelines, they would find out that the first of them to wander back into society - slowly relearning the ways of being a whole person, surrounded by other people - is Daeron.

Maglor does not so much wander back into society as society becomes inescapable, even for one as good as avoiding people as him. He gives into the inevitable and slowly he too becomes more Elf than sad voice echoing over the waves.

They are not fine.

And yet, there they are: he who's seen the Light of the Trees in Aman and he who's known the sight of the Stars in the twilight of Beleriand; they who saw the first rise of the Sun; the last of their people on these shores. And, crucially: they who still look at the other and see a mirror to their soul, despite everything, after all this time.

So when they - inevitably, for the world is small - meet again they do not fight, as one familiar with history might expect. They don't even raise their voices, in either argument or song. (That comes later.) Instead Maglor looks at Daeron and Daeron looks at Maglor, and it's a good thing no mortals are around at that precise time, because they look at each other for so long it passes from awkward to embarrassing to uncomfortable to witness.

Eventually, they do speak - after they remember how to, because this is a conversation that cannot happen in these new Mannish tongues - and they do argue. Some things are unforgivable - or not for Daeron to forgive on others' behalf - and some things Maglor will not apologize for. They are both proud and even centuries of wandering has not changed that.

They also make music. They play very old songs on new instruments, in new languages. They create entirely new compositions, both together and on their own. They move mortal hearts and inspire many.

They are alive. And they live.

#...And they eventually get tracked down by some Maia and told to PLEASE go to Aman already. It's literally been over ten thousand years.#They look at each other and shrug and go (the boat is acquired entirely legally and not set on fire at any point)#They become the scandal of the millennia when they show up and tell ppl they've been married since forever ago #wow this got long #alternatively they get married in that short period of time between fingolfin's death and the silmaril quest #when things are bad but not yet actively going to hell #i chose the other option because it makes them having some hope for future possibilities more optimistic #and then makes it hurt WORSE #we're ignoring lace for this one - or at least twisting it as far as it will go #tolkien #silm #daeron #maglor #daemags #silmarillion #the longer this post went on the more it made me want to actually write this.....#if someone else wants a crack at it tho go for it

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findrahil · 2 years

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How about … Silvergifting, taking advantage of a Maia power

hello anon! apologies for taking literally 7 months or something to write this, but school and work killed me quite dead. silvergifting smut below the cut; the maia power didn't quite make it in so much, but rest assured, there's more than enough of annatar being... annatar ;)

Sharp in the half-light, Celebrimbor eyed Annatar, half wary and half intrigued. Something in him told him to say no while he still could, to escape as a rabbit observing a faraway fox, but something else in him told him to lean into the danger, to sink into the novelty and see what it had to teach him. The night seemed to shift and settle silently in Eregion.

“Deal. On one condition.” In the end, the part of him that wanted to test every shade of brilliance, every spark of bright fire by touch won out. Just as he sometimes cut his fingertip on a newly-forged sword to test its keenness, he would test this fire in Annatar’s eyes by seeing for himself if it would burn or warm.

Annatar smiled, all teeth. “Name it.”

“I want your mouth.”

Annatar’s smile widened, slightly too slowly to be Elven, slightly too sharply to make Celebrimbor believe in his victory. “You have yourself a deal, my sweet Silver-fist.”

Minutes later—or hours; Celebrimbor could not be sure which, in a world wrought in heat and awash in light—Annatar had him spread-eagle on the bed, arms and legs pinned down by four thin spools of glittering gold thread. They—at least Celebrimbor thought it was them—sparked but didn’t burn, sending pleasant shocks of heat through him in time with his ragged breathing and the small circles Annatar’s tongue traced between his legs. When Annatar had conjured them whilst Celebrimbor had still his sight, they had had seemingly no source and no destination, no post to which to tie Celebrimbor down, only ringing themselves about his wrists and ankles as bracelets—they had not the feeling of chains. Celebrimbor’s attempt at testing them had only drawn a soft laugh from Annatar, who sat between his spread thighs and laid a covetous hand on the curve of his hip and looked upon him with that odd, intriguing expression of satisfaction and something that made Celebrimbor feel like a prize, made him not know whether to feel cherished as a lover, or treasured as a conquest or a spoil of a war he had not known he should fight.

“That is quite hopeless, my dear Tyelpë,” Annatar had told him. Then he had tied a bolt of black silk over Celebrimbor’s eyes, and the world had narrowed to Annatar’s hand on his hip, Annatar’s breath ghosting over his clit, making him gasp, slick wetting his cunt. And instead of using his mouth in earnest, Annatar had elected to tease him, endlessly, with fleeting kisses and an occasional artful twist of his talented tongue, sending tiny, ephemeral jolts of electric heat through him.

It felt like a game, the way Annatar played things, as if he were a cat toying with a cornered mouse, savouring the anticipation that held Celebrimbor’s body tense, as a taut string on the verge of snapping, and the trembling of his thighs as he tried vainly to close them around Annatar’s head to draw him closer. His only answer was a soft, mocking breath of laughter that made him shiver, and then a sudden burst of heat that travelled up and coiled low in his belly as Annatar finally put his mouth where it belonged and began working Celebrimbor with his tongue in earnest.

And then he subjected Celebrimbor to a different class of torment—he had a gift for this, for abruptly changing tactics to put Celebrimbor off-kilter and initiate him to a new sort of desperation, no less urgent and no more cruel. An ordinary lover might murmur reassurance or praise or at least smooth their hands over Celebrimbor’s shaking thighs while he whimpered, tears soaking the blindfold, and came down from the edge Annatar never allowed him to reach. But Annatar was different—for all that the phrase was tired, it was true in ever-new times. Annatar was a master of timing, and a master of manipulation, such that for all that Celebrimbor wanted to cry out and shake and come apart beneath Annatar’s delicate hands and beautiful mouth, he couldn’t. Annatar held him together. There was something more he had to demand from Celebrimbor.

Lesser beings had broken and greater eternities had passed more quickly than this, thought Celebrimbor, breath catching on the whine that rose in the back of his throat as Annatar retreated once more. Though he fought to keep Annatar there, the threads encircling his wrists and ankles held him fast.

It took scarcely a moment of having Annatar’s hot mouth on him now before Celebrimbor felt the waves of sensation rise ever higher, heat coiling low in his belly and tightening. But Annatar always retreated, not even granting Celebrimbor the mercy of a comforting touch in his torment, and Celebrimbor always wept softly as his climax fell away, leaving him overwarm and oversensitive, slick desire pulsing between his legs in time with his heartbeat.

He could only lie there and take it. When a fifth thread, this too warm and but not burning, wound itself slowly about his throat, Celebrimbor’s mouth went dry and he swallowed, feeling the thread move with him and widen, until it felt more like a collar, or Annatar’s hand holding him there.

“I should make you a proper collar,” mused Annatar. Celebrimbor could feel the trail of his gaze, its lingering over his throat. “Or—“ his voice dropped, and Celebrimbor shivered “—perhaps I should design it, and have you forge it—for yourself, for my use.”

Celebrimbor moaned. He could imagine the care Annatar would take in inventing such a thing, the intricacies inked onto a perfectly-drawn schematic, the heat in his gaze as Celebrimbor let hammer and anvil and metal ring together, the click of his tongue at any small imperfection that promised retribution. Satisfied that he had made his point, Annatar laughed softly, giving Celebrimbor a pat on the inside of one thigh.

Then the makeshift collar tightened—Celebrimbor gasped, but there wasn’t enough air—and Annatar put his mouth again between his legs. Even as Celebrimbor choked, his cry crushed into a needy whimper, Annatar thrust two fingers into him, making him sob and rock against them. Annatar was not gentle, but that was just right with him, reflected Celebrimbor, half-wild with need. A jolt of electricity ran through him at an ever-so-slight scrape or Annatar’s teeth—sharper than he’d expected—and then Annatar was curling his fingers just right inside him and the collar was tightening again around his throat, this time entirely cutting off his air, and then Celebrimbor was gone—falling, falling through an endless void wrought in heat and awash in light.

But Annatar didn’t stop. He kept fucking Celebrimbor with his fingers and working his clit with his tongue mercilessly, and even though the collar had loosened enough to allow Celebrimbor to take in shallow, ragged breaths, he had not the strength to do anything but gasp weakly and take it, salty tears wetting the blindfold as his body trembled through another climax.

“I know you are no emissary of the Valar.” From where Annatar was curled around him, Celebrimbor felt him stiffen. So he did have something to hide. “But I don’t care.”

The tension bled from Annatar’s frame—entirely too quickly. But whilst Celebrimbor knew he should care, should be wary of this mystical, almost mythical creature and the lingering soreness in his throat, he couldn’t bring himself to, languid in the dark afterglow of Annatar’s affection, ensconced in all-encompassing, all-enveloping, all-embracing night. In Annatar’s arms, he would go gentle into that good night.

#silvergifting #annatar #celebrimbor #mairon #sauron #silmarillion #tolkien #silm #my writing #prompt writing

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saturdaysky · 3 years

Note

hello! i hope you don't mind a message, but i am just excited to see someone else who liked AMCE and would love to know if you have recs for books that are similar, because i've been thinking about it for like a month straight since i finished reading it and would love something else to occupy my brain the way that it did. no pressure to answer ofc, just happy to share good vibes over a book :)

I do not mind it at all! <3

I do have some books that scratched a similar itch as A Memory Called Empire! I looooved the thoughtful focus on culture and language and identity within an intricate setting, so these recs follow that pattern somewhat.

Under a cut because this got kind of long.

The Imperial Radch trilogy by Ann Leckie

Liked the exploration of culture, identity, and imperialism in AMCE? You will probably like these books, since they also grapple with those themes. Also present is the exploration of personhood, who has it, and who does not -- because our main character is a person who used to be a starship. Or well, sort of. Wikipedia has a decent blurb:

The novel follows Breq—who is both the sole survivor of a starship destroyed by treachery, and the vessel of that ship's artificial consciousness—as she seeks revenge against the ruler of her civilization.

These books are honestly some of my favorite books ever. They combine a really thoughtful and deliberate focus on all the stuff mentioned above, fascinating plots and world-building, and characters who absolutely made me Feel Things. Highly recommended if you like, say, emotionally closed-off and damaged characters learning to care and be cared for while also skillfully navigating an intricate web of power to pursue their goals and reckon with the harm they've caused. But with bonus smart thoughts about robots.

The Foreigner series by C.J. Cherryh

I haven't fully made my way through this series, but it's rewarding every time I sit down to read another book. The books follow Bren Cameron, diplomat to an alien court, as he negotiates the intricate web of politics and intrigue involved in making sure the crash-landed colony ship he represents doesn't get obliterated or obliterate anyone else, despite humans making some monumental fuck-ups in the recent past.

And when you live and work and eat among one people, how much do you really belong to the people you came from? Of course, neither side really trusts someone who straddles both worlds, and to cap it off, the atevi people he lives among are different from humans in a fundamental way: they have no word for friend or love because those are alien concepts to the atevi. They do not feel such things. Instead, they live by an intricate web of obligation and favors. Trust is something a little more practical and a lot more deadly, for the atevi.

But these are not heartless novels -- part of the joy is watching the main characters grow meaningful relationships, even though the form is fraught and strange and never quite means the same thing to the people on either side.

If you like slow and thorough explanations of culture where meeting with your friend's grandmother is a potentially perilous activity (because the tea might be poisoned, because she might take you on a hunting trip you won't come back from, because she's a formidable political power and might be trying to assassinate your friend, because your friend might know all of this and have sent you anyway, also your friend is the king) these are books you might like.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

If you like deep dives of culture, language, identity, and loyalty within the deadly intrigue of a fantasy court, I hiiiiighly recommend this book. The book follows Maia, the youngest and least-favored heir to the throne who gets unexpectedly crowned when everyone else in line dies and must quickly learn to survive the cutthroat politics. But Maia isn't cutthroat by nature; he is kind and must negotiate how to keep that kindness in the face of pressures that would be easy to solve with cruelty, as well as people keen to take advantage of what they think of as a weakness.

This book'll hit you with a lot of fantasy language at first (it's a focus of the book), but if you stick with it you'll be fine. You're learning all this intricate court language at the same time as our protag; he too is a little out of his depth at the start.

Steerswoman series by Rosemary Kirstein

I dearly want to go back and read these -- it's been a few years, but they absolutely sucked me in. The books follow Rowan, a steerswoman, as she tracks down the mystery of a strange and incongruous gemstone. In-universe steerswomen are basically traveling scientists and naturalists who have taken an oath of truth.

The books start out in what seems like your fairly typical Standard Fantasy Setting with wizards and dragons, but as Rowan learns more about the strange gem, it's clear that this Standard Fantasy Setting is...not as it seems. There are three things that I loved about these books: the sense of wonder and discovery as our fantasy scientist protag reasons through problems and begins to discover she lives in a sci fi world, the interesting relationship between the main characters, and the excitement you as a reader have when YOU realize exactly what mysterious object Rowan is describing and what the implications of that are for the setting.

The Broken Earth trilogy by N.K. Jemisin

Riveting series -- brutal and beautiful. Straddles the line in some respects between sci fi and fantasy. Follows characters who live on a far, far-future Earth plagued by catastrophic climate events called "Seasons" that last generations. There are some people born who have power drawn from the earth; these people are alternately hated and ruthlessly trained to hone their powers to attempt to prevent another Season. (This sort of sounds like the setup to a YA coming-of-age novel, but it is really really not.)

The world and fantastical aspects are fascinating (cyclical post apocalyptic societies! geology magic!), and the books themselves explore family bonds, racism in both a personal and systemic sense, and broken systems and the wounds they leave upon the people within them even as those people wound others. The series is not a light read, but it is a good one.

Literally anything by Ursula K. Leguin

All of her work could be recommended if you liked AMCE. Her writing spans fantasy and science fiction, and includes thoughtful and moving explorations of some similar ideas: culture and cultural exchange, gender, different societal setups, you name it.

If you're looking for a good novel, The Left Hand of Darkness is a classic for a reason. If you'd like a sample platter of interesting short stories, The Birthday of the World and Other Stories is wonderful.

#book recs #i had to trim this list down so you know... i got more recs where this came from #like #anticapitalist books about Personhood & a killer robot who just became A Person; robot is in a committed not-relationship w a cargo carrier #a book from the POV of a god who is a mountain watching society rise and fall around it. but other gods do more than just watch...#books about greek gods making a bet & stealing 10k children to form a philosophically perfect society outside of time. 3rd book set on mars #scifi books about an alternate history of the US space program if an asteroid struck Earth in 1952 - as told by the first female astronauts #a book about the messy relationships between you - a body-hopping parasite - and the people whose bodies you steal #a book about a colony ship that lands on a planet full of plants they do not realize are sentient and predatory - as told over generations #a book about a colony ship that lands on a planet where ancient terraforming accidentally uplifted spiders instead of primates #AND MORE!#asks #burningdarkfire

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

I really said fuck classes who needs notes anyway (i do I have 5 tests in the next two weeks)

before I post my live blog here, I feel like people really underestimate how bad rumors are and how much they fuck with your mental health. they don't lose sleep over them, they don't think twice. but these things are harmful as fuck. they leave wounds that take so long to recover from because you keep on thinking about these lies who to others are "just words"

I've been there. it's not fun. I wish I had the courage back then to stand up to those rumors which I have now. these things never leave you. others might move on but the healing process is a journey that is long and hard. I wish more people understood just what effect their words can have.

Yeah, he knew a thing or two about family members going overboard with glitter.

IT'S RAFAEL CENTRIC GHSYGUJDUYDFUIKFDUIDFIUDF

TAVVY

DCSUIHDCSUIDUYUDICUIVSDUIHFVSUILFBUHKIFSV

I feel like I keyboard smash A LOT

“You will never drink even if you are not riding the bike,” Dad had pointed out – all Consul Voice and threatening glares. “The legal age for drinking in New York is 21.”

“But it’s 15 in Idris!”

“Well unfortunately for you, we are in Exile,” dad had grinned.

DAD ALEC UHIKSFDUIHKSGUIKSDVUIHKDVUHIKSVD

Max had a habit of ‘borrowing’ things and selling them on eBay. In his brother’s defense, Bapak had so many clothes that he never noticed when things disappeared. But Rafael did since he had a habit of wearing his father’s clothes.

The warlock – not the shadowhunter.

He wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those sweaters.

Now that Rafael was 18, he was almost as tall as his father.

The shadowhunter – not the warlock.

I AM SCREAMING

I love how he's clarifying which one he's talking about

“Do you know I used to have a crush on Lily Chen?” Tavvy blushed. “But then I found out she made out with Helen once and it kinda got weird.”

Ah yes. I remember. Does Rafael know that Alec also walked in on them?

ARCHITECT TAVVY

SDHDVUHDFSV,YDSFVUYVSFFUSVFUVFS

SHADOWUNTERS ATTENDING MUNDANE COLLEGES

“Dude, college kids don’t give a shit,” Tavvy laughed. “You could walk into a lecture covered in runes, holding a seraph blade and they wouldn’t give you a second look.”

“Cause they are chill?”

“Yes. But mostly cause they are dead inside,” Tavvy chuckled.

Surprisingly that's exactly what my grade 6 prefect told me (DAMN WHY AM I ALWAYS REMEMBERING GRADE 6 IT'S BEEN YEARS. that was a horrible year *shudders*)

ANJALI IS A CENTURION

LMAO THIS IS WHAT RAFAEL MEANT WHEN HE SAID HE WOULDNT WANT TO GO TO THE SCHOLOMANCE FOR PERSONAL REASONS

I still ship them.

“The meeting is going to go perfe-What is SHE doing here?”

Well, that was a quick change-

Unlike Aunt Maia, Lily did not like to be called Aunt Lily. So, Rafael respected her wishes. Max of course continued to call her Aunt Lily and sometimes Abeula Lily since his brother had a pathological condition of pissing people off.

THAT'S SO MAX OMG JHSXUHSCUHISDHUHUKIDVS

great now I miss Raphael

I HAVE A CLASS IN 7 MINUTES STOP MAKING ME CRY

that is so thoughtful of him though...

tears.

“There are no photos of Raphael,” Lily sighed.

“Because he is a vampire?” Tavvy asked sympathetically.

“Because he is Raphael,” she grinned. “Vampires can most certainly take photos. You should follow me on Instagram. My handle is simp_for_carstairs.”

Of course, it is. No one is surprised.

Tavvy picked one up, took a large bite and it threw it back immediately. “Holy shit, that’s spicy!”

“White,” Lily and Anjali snorted at the same time.

white people and their bland foods smh

“She is not wrong,” Lily nodded seriously. “I’m a Jem Carstairs fan first and a vampire second.”

As she should be

UHDSUHDFSUHFDH ANJALI AND RAFAEL COMPETING ABOUT WHO'S LILY'S FAVORITE

He observed Anjali’s long dark hair spilled over her shoulders as her eyes stayed on Lily – sharp, protective and beautiful.

"Beautiful"

I AM NOT LETTING THIS GO

I'm THE DAMN CAPTAIN OF THIS SHIP

FUCKING RUMORS

I'm GONNA KILL SOMEONE

“Shadowhunters are awful gossips,” Anjali said. “Let’s not waste our time with this nonsense.”

There was something in her voice. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

No, wait I want to know what was in her voice.

But no. It couldn’t be. They weren’t dating.

YET

Rafael was sure there was something more than friendship between them. But David was polite to a fault and Max was an oblivious little shit. So, obviously nothing had happened yet.

OH MY GOD THESE TWO

But this was different. He would tolerate rumours about himself. But he would not tolerate rumours about his family.

I and Rafael will beat up the people who spread these rumors together :D

“She once told me she likes sipping tea more than drinking blood.

I-

same.

NOT THAT I DRINK BLOOD-

RAFAEL LMAO NO

"I hate her she's so annoying"

continues to daydream about her and how tall she'd be without those boots, lies to tavvy about her dating someone

Why did he do that? What was the purpose? Did he not want other people to date just because he wasn’t dating anyone?

And he calls Max oblivious.

oh class started

shit

IDC IDC I'LL STILL BE READING

LEXI AND SELENA ARE AT THE ACADEMY

JACE HYPER FIXATING ON THINGS BECAUSE HE'S BORED IS SUCH A MOOD

“David and I added rosemary to this one,” Uncle Jace wiped his hands on his apron. “It has definitely improved the taste, hasn’t it?”

“Save me,” David mouthed from behind the man.

LMAO POOR DAVID

“Empty nest syndrome,” Rafael chuckled. “I’m glad neither Max nor I had to leave home. My fathers are much worse.”

He remembered his first sleepover at the institute. His parents had waited for “an excruciating hour” before crashing the institute and joining the sleepover themselves.

yup, that's them.

“David,” Rafael grinned. “Are you afraid of my father?”

“What? No! He is the just a regular person…who can throw me in the silent city any time he wants,” David rambled and then shook his head. “Where is Max?”

He tried to sound nonchalant. But Rafael noted the way the other boy’s eyes fluttered every time he said Max’s name.

Just the way a crooked smile appeared on his brother’s lips every time someone said David’s name.

Idiots

ok, there is so much to unpack here.

DAVID HAS A VALID REASON OK??

These two are such IDIOTS HUSDUHISCUIDSVCUIHVSDUHI

“Max said Bapak is biased, and that he needs an unbiased tutor. Uncle Ragnor volunteered,” Rafael chuckled. “God bless the poor man.”

“Max isn’t that bad,” David replied.

“Looks like you’re biased too, David,” Rafael winked and picked up a spare bow from the training room.

of course, he is.

G-FORCE KJHSDCUISDYUKDFSUYKDSVYUSFD

oh shit

WHO DID WHAT THIS TIME

what's the rumor and who do I need to kill

He didn’t know her well. But she knew a lot about him. Just as she knew a lot about the twins. She was one of those people who was oddly invested in his life just because Rafael happened to the Consul’s son.

what is her problem?

what the fuck

I need a minute

I need a minute to digest that

I'm so glad I closed my camera in class

what the actual fuck did she just say

tell me I'm hallucinating

times like these I wish I was Jared 19

no, because I'm actually speechless right now

Paige and Irene need therapy

OH SHE WENT THERE

“Paige, that’s enough!” the Dean snapped at her. “How dare you talk to him that way? You talk about warlock corruption but where all of you when Valentine exploited Jace and Clary? Where was this moral obligation when Valentine lied to his children and played with their feelings as if they were nothing but toys to be controlled and manipulated? I’m sick of shadowhunters victim blaming children instead of holding people like Valentine accountable.”

THANK YOU

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK SIMON

I feel like we all focus so much on the "incest" and hate on clace we forget that this part of the story was literally an abuser seeing that the victim was recovering and took the only thing which made him happy from him

I can't believe this

“Children have been suffering for a long time now, Paige,” Uncle Jace said now, his fists balled at his sides. “Where were you when Alec proposed the child protection bill? We didn’t see any of you supporting it.”

“We had other priorities,” the older woman replied. “People were dying! It was not the right time for a new law. We could have always signed that bill later. There was no rush!”

OTHER PRIORITIES MY ASS BITCH FUCK YOU

hey just realizing Rafael is the token straight

I'M SORRY IM TRYING TO DISTRACT ME

“The Cohort who made children kill themselves to prove a point?” Uncle Simon asked dryly. “That Cohort?”

I am so close to either crying or killing someone or both.

This was Max’s spot since it had the best Wi-Fi coverage.

yeah trust me I spend all the time in the guest room because it has the best wifi coverage or the study.

MAX IS SMOKING TOO

YOU FUCKING IDIOTS

oh wait

oh they might be alec's

yeah

For the next thirty minutes, Max paced around the room, threatening to portal all the shadowhunters to hell.

Then he went on about a plan to attack the cohort and portal them all to hell too.

He kept talking about portalling people to hell.

MAX YES LET'S DO IT!!!!

But here is the thing about people, they don’t get to you. You get to them.

They simply say something and leave. They probably don’t even mean the things they say or lose sleep over it. But it wasn’t the same for you. You obsess over it. You stay awake at night and let it consume your dreams.

YES! To others, it's just words. meaningless. to you, the effect can be so so deep. it's not easy to always brush them off.

NO MAGNUS

THAT'S IT

MAX AND I ARE PORTALLING PEOPLE TO HELL

WE'RE DOING IT

why do we hurt others?

my teacher: ill take a test on this chapter. all 20 units

me: softly crying because people are little shits and they hurt others.

“Fuck everyone else,” dad hissed. “They’ve hurt our family enough.”

EXACTLY. LEAVE THEM ALONE.

“I am simply being honest with you,” Dad interrupted. “I could never be okay when you are away from me. But I will manage. Max is going to raise hell though. So, that’s going to be fun.”

AS HE SHOULD

Neither Rafael nor Max would never admit it out loud, but on the day of that sleepover, on the day their parents had crashed the institute bcause they had missed the kids too much…Rafael and Max had been only a moment away from calling their parents to come pick them up.

He's right though.

it'll take time. lots of it maybe.

BUT THE ACTUAL AUDACITY.

It fucked with his mind so much.

Rafael...ALRIGHT WHERE ARE MY FLAMETHROWERS

“DAD! BAPA! WAKE UP! RAFE IS TRYING TO RUN AWAY!”

MAX REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF MY LITTLE BROTHER

He had forgotten about the bloody paperwork. Shadowhunters on their travel year had to notify the Clave and get their paperwork in order.

Well, it shouldn’t be a problem since the Clave was standing across the hall.

EXACTLY

Because it was killing him. It was killing him not to be lying on the couch, his head resting on his Bapak’s lap just like every other Saturday morning.

It was killing him not to touch, not to love, not to care.

GET MY FLAMETHROWERS AND CANNIBAL GOLDFISHES WE HAVE SOME WORK TO DO

(goddamn every class I have taken so far the teacher has told us there is a test coming up it's 9 am in the morning.)

His brother growled at that like the little feral animal that he was.

that's adorable actually.

“Fine,” Max rolled his eyes. “Does this mean I can also travel? There is a Twenty One Pilots concert in Sydney and-”

“Nice try,” Dad said. “But no. You are staying here.”

“Excuse me, but what about my healing?” Max demanded. “I’ve been traumatised by this thing.”

“You can go to therapy,” Rafael winked at this brother.

Therapy is boring but useful so-

He needed to survive this. So, he decided to go back to the place he had learned how to survive in the first place.

He needed to go back home.

UGLY CRYING WHILE TAYLOR SWIFT PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND AND MY HISTORY CLASS IN 2 MINUTES

I'm so proud of him for this...

I still say we kill these people.

JOAQUIN AND JULIETTE

UHISDCUIHFSDUGUIDFVDSDVFJHGDFVHUKDVHUKVF

Camilla Alvarez.

well well.

OH THEY KISSED

“Right,” Rafael had said. “Gap year. Besides, I do talk them. My brother threatened to paint my room in hot pink if I don’t text him every day.”

hands max a pint of paint HAVE AT IT

Max: Also – New Rumour. Dalliance between Lily and Tavvy.

Rafe: OMFG WHAT

Max: They are running with it and freaking old n*philim out.

AS THEY SHOULD UFUHIFUIHFUIHKFU

THE CENSORED N*PHILIM I'M SCREAMING

“He is hot.”

He laughed out loud. “Yeah. I hear that a lot.”

“Your dad looks kinda scary,” she pointed out.

Rafael laughed again. “Yeah. I kinda hear that a lot too.”

I'm liking this ship...

I'M STILL LOYAL TO THE RAFAEL AND ANJALI SHIP

but I'm happy for him. I'm glad he's getting the space he needs

Dad: Jst found legal age fr drnkng in Buenos Aires is 18.

Rafe: ????

Dad: I hv friends thr.

Rafe: ???

Dad: Thy r watchn u.

Rafe: Creepy but okay.

HJSDCGUIHJGSDCYUICVXUHVUHKDV

THE BOY'S DRINKING Y'ALL

Do it

MILA IS GOING TO NY!!

I like her. she's nice.

He was leaving soon. He didn’t see the point in lying to her. “I ran away from home. Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I hurt someone I love,” Rafael confessed. “The person I love most in the world.”

honey, it wasn't your fault... hugs

Shit. Why wasn’t Bapak going to the accords signing? He had been there for every single one since the very first time.

no no no no is something wrong?? I'm worried.

“You look taller,” Rafael told his brother who hadn’t grown an inch.

LMAO

Max and I are vertically challenged.

“Rafe, go to talk to him. Or I will tell everyone you’ve been smoking in the balcony!”

So, he was going to pin this on him, huh? This little shit.

well-

“You’ve progressed from freaking to fucking,” he pointed out.

“That’s not the fucking point, Rafael!” Max said in exasperation.

“You did it again,” Rafe pinched Max’s cheek. “My little brother is all grown up now. Linguistically I mean.”

“Dick."

I CAN'T WITH THESE TWO

When he had gone back to Buenos Aires, the place was completely different - even the shadow market.

There were no abandoned children in the streets. There were no racist and ignorant leaders exploiting innocent downworlders.

There was only growth.

His father had done that. Alec Lightwood had helped Joaquin and his people create a new world in Buenos Aires.

This shows how much people can flourish under good leadership if they really try.

YOU KNOW I'M SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING THESE NOTES DOWN, NOT CRYING OVER THIS.

“I will protect our family. I will protect our friends. I will protect those who ask for my protection. But I will not tolerate their hate. I will not turn my head and pretend it doesn’t hurt. Because it does hurt and that’s not okay.”

Rafael smiled at that. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s not okay.”

“The accords is important. But so am I. There is no point in signing a treaty that is meant to value equality if I have to sign it while being surrounded by those who refuse to respect me or my identity. I simply cannot do it, Rafael. I hope you understand.”

I'm sobbing like YES YOU DONT OWE THEM SHIT. THESE UNGRATEFUL BITCHES.

“It’s taken me a while to realize this. But I don’t owe the nephilim anything,” Bapak said firmly. “It’s about time they realize that too.”

YES EXACTLY

“I’ve known shadowhunters for a long time, Rafael. Good ones. Bad ones. All kinds of them – and shadowhunters have always defined themselves by their love. Not by your weapons. Not by your runes. Not by your last names. Not by your laws. Shadowhunters have always defined themselves by love. So, don’t ever let them take that away from you.”

I want this on a T-shirt. These damn shadowhunters and their love.

“Like the Accords Hall kiss?” Rafael grinned.

“It’s the stupidest thing your father had ever done – which is really saying something,” his father laughed. “But it’s also the bravest thing I’ve ever seen him do. And that’s how I knew.”

affectionate sigh that's alec.

“Good. Max is sitting in the porch and singing All by Myself,” Tessa chuckled and closed the door. “Just thought you should know!!”

Rafael giggled at that. “He must have given you hell.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Bapak shrugged, and Rafael raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I might have promised to buy him a car when he turns 18.”

“You’re hoping he would stop aging by then, aren’t you?” Rafael chuckled.

Max is so dramatic I aspire to be like him.

Blue banners when the lost return, the shadowhunter rhythm said.

Rafael had returned home – and he was no longer lost.

I'm ok I say as I cry during my history class

I'm so proud of him.

“Well, that needs to be rectified immediately,” Dad said in the Consul Voice and literally yelled. “I am about to kiss my son – on both cheeks! You better gossip about this too!”

“Oh my god, stop!” Rafael giggled and tried to escape.

“YAS!” he heard Uncle Jace yelled from somewhere. “GIVE US A FOREHEAD KISS TOO!”

THEY ARE SO DRAMATIC I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH.

THEM ADDING TO THE ACCORDS AS THEY SHOULD OMG

“The hell is hate speech?” someone asked.

Do you not have a dictionary you uncultured swine

“There is a very clear difference between free speech and hate speech,” Cristina Rosales pointed out. “The fact that you don’t seem to know that is all the more reason for us to include this provision.”

YES CRISTINA

“By the angel,” an old man gasped. “There is no need to be so emotional. The younger generation can be such snowflakes.”

What if I just strangles him

“Discriminatory language?” a woman demanded. “What does that even mean?”

“Calling vampires bloodsuckers,” Lily Chen answered.

“Calling warlocks demon spawns,” Ragnor Fell pointed out.

“Calling werewolves fleabags,” Maia Roberts declared.

“Calling faeries half-breeds,” Kieran Kingson all but yelled.

The fact that they have had to deal with this shit for YEARS. (also why Kingson? isn't Kieran the king?)

THE QUEEN HERSELF IS HERE Y'ALL

“Which one of you shitheads said hate speech is harmless?” Anjali demanded, her voice booming over everyone and everything else.

YES ANJALI

Anjali had a grin of her own. “While that might true, Paige, there is most certainly a law on child protection. You didn’t just hurt Magnus Bane. You also hurt his son. Section 7 of the Child Protection Bill states that any person who physically or emotionally injures a child through ill-treatment, neglect, abandonment or abuse is guilty of breaking the covenant.”

“Damn straight!” someone yelled from the crowd – it sounded suspiciously like Kit.

CALL THESE BITCHES OUT YES

“Rafael is not a child!” someone yelled again. A lot of them this time. “It’s still not illegal. The law doesn’t say so!”

“By the angel, for someone who is obsessed with the law you people seem to know nothing about it,” Anjali said in exasperation. “The child protection law defines a child as a person under 18 years OR younger. The incident happened when he was still 18. It’s illegal.”

YES ANJALI FUCK THESE PEOPLE

“I’m the Inquisitor’s daughter,” she said. “Next time, think twice before you quote the law at me.”

SHOW THEM, QUEEN

How did she know his birthday????

ahem

“So, if you do hurt him emotionally, you can still be implicated. You will face charges and you can possibly be stripped of your runes,” Anjali pointed out seriously. “Now I ask you again. Does anyone else have to say anything about him?”

There was absolute silence then.

“Didn’t fucking think so,” Anjali spat. “I literally had to mention the stripping of your marks for you to respect another person’s basic rights. If you give half the value you place on your precious runes to other people, we wouldn’t be in exile right now.”

The Cohort looked terrified – of Anjali or their future in the Clave, Rafael didn’t know.

“People are dying,” Anjali said, her voice heavy now. “Our people are fucking dying, and you seem to be more bothered with who is sleeping with whom. Shame on you. Shame on all of you!”

She turned to the Council. The Inquisitor looked like he was going to cry from pride. Rafael’s dad looked half terrified but mostly impressed. Lily was blowing kisses at Anjali. The other downworld leaders looked quite pleased.

Shadowhunters are so fucking bigoted and narrow-minded. I'm seething right now.

also, alec looking scared-

“THAT’S THE BEST SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!” Emma Carstairs yelled.

“Goddamn, I wish Magnus was here to see this,” Uncle Jace grinned. “That was satisfying as hell.”

“No worries, I recorded the whole thing!” Kit put up his hand.

YES YES AND YES

“Fuck the Cohort,” Rafael giggled.

“Actually, I would prefer you use the word screw,” his father pointed out. “Screw the Cohort!”

“Oh my god, Dad!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “I am allowed to swear once in a while.”

“No, you are not,” Dad said firmly – this man was so not ready to meet Max’s new persona. “As your friend pointed out, you are still a child.”

Alec seeing Max curse left and right: 👁️👄👁️

"She hates me!"

“Rafael, she stood up for you in front of the entire Clave. She fought the Cohort. It was incredibly brave. I wish she had spoken to me before without causing all the chaos. So, it was a little stupid of course. But still brave.”

Stupid but brave.

YESYESYESYES IT'S HAPPENING!!!

ANJALI WHO HURT YOU

WHO DARED TO

Names. Give me names NOW

Jaime no...please no not Jaime.

please please, please

ok, I searched it up. And he can get treatment. He can live. It doesn't have to be serious. please, Jaime...

“If you ever tell anyone you saw me crying, I will drag you to Idris and drown you in Lake Lyn.”

This is such an Anjali thing to say.

OOO MILLA (Mila?) MESSAGED!!! Is there gonna be some sort of love triangle here??

me who despises love triangles (aside from TID of course): ...

BUT SINCE IT'S YOU I'M SURE IT'LL BE AMAZING. I'm still nervous about this though...

UHCUHDVUKDVHUKVHUVHM I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO SO SO MUCH IT WAS A LITERAL ROLLERCOASTER AND ANJALI QUEEN I LOVE

see ya on Friday!!

OKAY I AM LOVING THIS ENERGY BUT PLEASE FOCUS ON YOUR CLASSES FJKSDFHJKSJFHKD I PROMISE THE STORY IS GOING TO BE HERE WHEN YOU GET BACK LOL.

But I am so glad you like it. Amidst all your screaming and chaos, I always find very perceptive and profound observations. It's fantastic! I love it so much!

Thank you for enjoying LBAF - and good luck with your tests!!!

#lbaf

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goldenalec · 3 years

Text

✩ of crowns and constellations - chapter 2 ✩

read HERE on ao3!

h-hi *ducks behind tree*

i know it's been over a yEAR and i'm awful for that but i've done everything from starting my first post-grad job to literally moving to a different country so pls... pls bear with me :')

chapter synopsis: The one with a lot of text messages, family, and maudlin, whiskey-fueled conversations.

chapter sneaky peeky:

The phone keeps buzzing against his thigh and he keeps typing out his responses. And he realizes, about ten minutes too late, that he’s been staring down at his crotch the whole time, when Maia strains her neck to glance at his phone. “Okay, who do you keep texting?”

“No one,” Magnus says, a little more hastily than he intends. He turns his phone upside down to hide the latest text: Okay if we’re really getting into the semantics, then Harry absolutely should NOT have been an Auror and should have been the new DADA professor instead.

She raises a suspicious brow at him. “Do I look like an idiot to you? You keep doing that stupid little smile at your phone.”

“Jesus, it’s no one. It’s just – my machine learning project group chat.”

“Your machine learning project group chat is making you smile like that?”

“Firstly, I’m not smiling. Secondly, you don’t know my life or CS humor, dickhead.”

Maia turns to everyone else with a grave expression on her face. “And this is why he’s single.” She dodges the piece of potato Magnus throws at her.

as always, thank u for reading, and feel free to yell at me here <3

#magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #malec fic #my writing #prince!alec #first son!magnus #shadowhunters #of crowns and constellations #rwrb #rwrb au

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yellow-faerie · 3 years

Note

I would very much like to hear about your head canons for Findis and co! (if you're not busy, no pressure!) have a great day :)

Oh yes! Would love to! Sorry it took so long - I have exams and I had to go back through all my many, many notes I have accumulated over the last six months of headcanons and things and the post kept getting bigger!

OK, so, while I sometimes go by other people as Findis’ wife/husband, my personal favourite is Rilyanixë and together they have four children: two daughters and two sons. Of these children, they have six grandchildren (3 granddaughters and 3 grandsons) and (as far as I know so far) no great-grandchildren.

(I’ll put the full post under the cut)

So Findis is the eldest daughter of Finwë and Indis called Laurinalma by her mother (meaning Golden Flower) and Lintafinwë by her father (meaning Soothing Finwë) (and maybe Finwë is a male name but I believe -wë is a gender neutral name ending and I like the idea of different families keeping a naming tradition of sorts). The name Findis is actually her Cilmessë.

She dislikes Tirion immensely because of their general attitude to remarriage and everything really.

I have this headcanon that the children of Finwë were all very close until they really got into society and rumours and other people’s opinions really tore them apart - Fëanor to Formenos or Aulë’s halls; Lalwen to the wilds where she spends most of her time with her Maia girlfriend/wife (they aren’t sure which); Fingolfin to the isolation of court; and Finarfin to Alqualondë.

And Findis goes to Valmar and the Vanyar.

She takes on a healers apprenticeship there, returning only a few times a year to her family home where tensions are rising between Fëanor and literally everyone else - not yet about anything important, more about really insignificant things. (I think this post sums up my thoughts on Fëanor and the way I see his relationships with his half-family quite well)

And for her graduation, she goes to the Tirion library before returning to Valmar (this is as much to cool down after arguing with Fëanor over something inconsequential as it is to find resources for her theory exam/essay/things) and meets Rilyanixë.

Rilyanixë (a name meaning Sparkling Ice) is the quiet, middle child of the chief archivist of Tirion Archive. His father is a Vanya hunter (because, really, Findis isn’t going to marry someone who isn’t at least a little Vanya) and his older sister takes after him. His younger sister went down to Alqualondë to learn sailing because she refuses to take after either of her parents, but that’s another story.

They meet because he too is looking to get away because his mother - a staunch supporter of the crown and it’s ability to make sound decisions (thus trusting Indis) - threw someone from the archive for making snide comments about the royal family and Rilyanixë rather disliked the raised voices. It is technically his day off but he came here to put books away because that’s what calms him.

So they meet and get on well: Rilyanixë quite likes this slightly scatter-brained healer and Findis likes the quiet librarian with a small smile and brown hair that shines gold when the light hits it just right.

She agrees to meet him again when she returns the books in a month or two when she comes back to town.

And they go out for coffee and learn that they are both half-Ñoldo, half-Vanya. And they sort-of fall into each other, meeting up in Valmar and in Tirion and eventually they are courting and then betrothed and then they are married, three years after first meeting.

(The marriage does cause tensions to rise between Rilyanixë and his Vanya family who see Findis as too Ñoldor and have issues with that so they don’t end up spending much time with them - there’s a reason Rilyanixë’s parents don’t live together anymore)

Now, Rilyanixë married into this family so he is as veritably crazy as all of they are - except no-one notices until he tells Fëanor that his latest creation was ‘passable, he supposes’ because Fëanor insulted Findis and you just don’t do that. Basically, Rilyanixë is very uncrazy unless provoked at which point he will just provoke whoever’s closest, however ill-advised that is (if that makes any sense).

Anyway, they get a house halfway between Tirion and Valmar (because they can’t be completely separate from politics but...they don’t want to be anywhere near it at the same time) and live fairly peacefully, with occasional siblings just appearing or nephews and nieces and the like (from Rilyanixë’s side too it should be noted).

Everyone is beginning to think that they are not going to have children as Arafinwë is already married and with a baby when Findis declares that she is pregnant. A year(ish) later, she gives birth to a girl that Findis calls Findecurë (Tress of Skill - weird name, but I was trying to come up with a translation for Finvain) and Rilyanixë calls Nofernë (Under Beech Tree). Of the two of them, Rilyanixë’s naming is actually a bit more prophetic than his wife’s (because I find it odd that only women have prophetic visions and while I still think that women are almost always the parent (if either parent does have prophetic name-giving), I thought that men must even just a little).

Before Fëanor pulls the sword and everything finally collapses in on itself, they have three more children. A boy who she calls Findelaurë (I’m using this variation on Glorfindel’s Quenya name for the sake of familial consistency) and who Rilyanixë calls Indiltur (Lily Lord). Another girl that Findis calls Fanyanel (Daughter of the Clouds) and Rilyanixë calls Iþilmolótë (Flower of Starlight - and apparently the Vanyar still used the letter thorn? I might be wrong). And finally another son that Findis calls Finróna (Hair of the East) and Rilyanixë calls Aþumolor (Good Companion in Dreams). In order of birth, their Sindarin names (and the names I shall be referring to them by) are Glorfindel, Finvain, Faniel and Finrun.

At the darkening, Glorfindel follows Turgon (with whom he is close), Faniel follows Glorfindel (with whom she is close), Finrun follows his elder siblings and the other Finwean babies (Galadriel, Argon and Ambarussa), and Finvain follows her siblings.

When her children and family leave, Findis disappears into the wilds (very good fic about this here) and Rilyanixë, with no family, returns to his mother’s house in Tirion.

So Glorfindel we all know goes to Gondolin and dies and gets re-embodied, etc. I would like to add a bit to his story to say I am a big Glorestor shipper and they definitely end up married and they adopt Lindir and his sister Lindis (because no-one can stop me).

As of Erestor, he’s an Avar in my mind who ends up with Gondolin because the Avari keep being pushed from their homes and he knows he would be safe there. (He does initially say he’s a Sindar to try and avoid the general distaste everyone seems to have for the Avari and only tells those he really trusts). Also, he would get on so well with Rilyanixë and it’s such a pity that they don’t meet until the fourth age.

Finvain leaves ME because her brothers and sisters are going, not from any particualr desire of hers to go. She is protective at heart - even if she seems very cold - and loves her brothers and sisters a lot. She does a lot of what she does only grudgingly and eventually swears off killing even orcs as her actions at Alqualondë haunt her that much (she acts as a behind the lines medical assistant due to her knowledge of plants and herbs and is killed because of her oath when the camp is overrun).

She loves gardening. If she’s sitting in a patch of flowers, she’s happy (she would really love hobbits if she had lived). She had a garden in her family home between Valmar and Tirion but when she left it got overgrown, despite Finrun’s best attempts to keep it cared for (he’s busy and the garden reminds him too painfully of his absent sister). She can’t keep a garden in ME (she’s a messenger for Fingolfin, moving around a lot) but she does have a habit of planting flowers in odd places wherever she travels.

She does fall in love, if that is what you would call it. She and Morwen (and I have this headcanon that Morwen and Húrin were really good friends who were both hella gay and both really wanted children so got married for that while agreeing that they could see other people) spend time together and it would have developed further if Finvain wasn’t always being called away and she hadn’t died at Nirnaeth.

Finvain holds guilt over her brother’s death as Finrun died at Alqualondë and Finvain saw him die, still confused as to what was actually going on; and Lalaith’s death (who she thought she could save with her medicine but who died anyway).

When she is re-embodied - before her sister but after both her brothers, she returns to her family home - left abandoned by her mother who had vanished soon after the Darkening; her father, who had returned to his mother in Tirion; and her brother, who was now living almost permanently on the outskirts of Alqualondë. She fixes it up the best she can and tends to her garden as slowly, one by one, her family returns.

Faniel is the sort of person who has everyone wrapped around her little finger but doesn’t seem to know. Hella strong, hella kind, hella oblivious - a summary of Faniel’s character.

Faniel and Ecthelion are both bi (when Ecthelion was younger, there was a time he and Glorfindel were courting before they decided they were better as friends). She and Ecthelion have three children: a son, Elemmakil; a daughter, Meleth; and a child, Enerdhil. Meleth ends up as Eärendil’s nurse and marries Elwing’s nurse Evranin which is all I really have for her and I have next to nothing for the other two. But they exist.

Anyway, Faniel fights with a spear and actually lives to escape to the havens but she dies in the Third Kinslaying.

She is the last of her siblings to be reborn and ends up being the one to initiate the search for their mother.

And finally, Finrun. He dies at Alqualondë when he and a few others go into the city to see what the confusion is all about and gets caught up in the crossfire before he can really tell what’s going on. With no blood on his hands and practically no trauma, he gets re-embodied within a few years but everything is really different: all his family has either gone to ME, gone and secluded themselves somewhere, are exceptionally busy or Finrun thinks they hate him. As someone who thrived off of the familial love of his family (being Aro/Ace, this is one of the main forms of love that he experiences), it’s a jarring experience to say the least and ends up with him being really, really lonely.

He decides to deal with this crippling loneliness by throwing himself into his work. The only family who really talks to him is Finarfin but they mainly talk about work and he’s like, if it makes him happy then it’ll make me happy. (It is making neither of them happy, they’re just avoiding the problem). So he ends up in Alqualondë working towards restoring relations. No-one here particularly likes him (Maglor’s wife, Cantasië, does occasionally come and keep him company to be honest to her).

He is here he meets Elwing, singing and miserable who he promptly adopts. (It is not only the Fëanorians with adopting people on the spot issues). The rest of the Teleri are a bit sceptical of this girl however much they like her and she’s uncomfortable in palace having lived nearly her whole life in near poverty despite being a princess. And Eärendil, when he appears, reminds him of his cousins due to being Turgon’s grandson. There’s a bit more nuance to it, I guess, but basically he sees these two children with no family anymore and as he knows how they feel, he decides to give them that family.

It’s at the end of the First Age that Finrun realises that the Valar intend to keep the Ñoldor in Mandos and he basically becomes the advocate for their release. In his house by the sea, he is slowly collecting war orphans who lost parents far too young and came to these shores to try to heal hurts of their souls and Finrun houses them and loves them and tries to get the Valar to release the families they have lost (not realising that in the process he has become part of that family and the loneliness he has been feeling is lessened somewhat - not gone completely because his family is a different entity entirely but lessened).

Eventually, he convinces them and one-by-one, his family and the others trapped in Mandos are released upon their healing, rather than being kept there forever.

(When Glorfindel is reborn, Finrun is not told and meets him on the docks by pure chance before he must go to Middle Earth. And before he can really get over the shock and bundle of emotions, Glorfindel is gone again. Finrun genuinely thinks that this was a hallucination for a long time.)

It is one sunny day soon after Glorfindel has returned to Valinor that Faniel gets them together to go after their mother, who, despite everyone coming back and a tentative happiness and peace beginning, has not returned from wherever she ran to. During their search, they get to catch up for the first time really since they were all reborn.

Findis has just sort of made camp in a cave, not hiding but decided that society sucked and she didn’t want to go back. Her children convince her otherwise and they return and everything is good and happy.

Umm, so yep, these are my vague thoughts on this family. I hope you liked it!

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elamarth-calmagol · 2 years

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I posted 2,771 times in 2021

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For every post I created, I reblogged 21.5 posts.

I added 3,949 tags in 2021

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#writer invents a quest for the main character to go on to force her to get out of the house

My Top Posts in 2021

For some reason, I really strongly associate Glorfindel with the archangel Gabriel. Like, I just saw some pictures of angels and when I saw the one of Gabriel, I forgot for a moment that they weren’t the same person. I guess some of it has to do with the G name, and reborn Glorfindel is supposed to be nearly angelic (the Maia are treated as angels), but this is still super weird. Anyone else have something like this going on?

93 notes • Posted 2021-11-27 22:19:00 GMT

“Your Brother’s Life”

Notes: So I was listing out reasons in my head of what reasons Elrond and Elros might have had for choice of fate, and I thought of the worst possible thought process for them. So I wrote it. (Keep in mind that I literally did this just now. It may turn out to be complete trash when I read it again tomorrow. If it isn’t, I’ll put it on AO3 sometime.) Rated G, 427 words

---

When Eonwë called for the twins to make the decision about their fates, to be counted as and Elf or a Man, he insisted upon speaking to them separately. Elrond did not understand why. He and Elros had been born together, raised together, and stayed together through everything that had happened to them. They were twins, and they needed to stay together. Of course they would choose the same way.

“This choice cannot be undone,” the great herald explained. He was very tall and very bright, though not a brightness that could be seen with the eyes. It was difficult for Elrond to look at him. “It must be your choice and not your brother’s.”

“Why can’t I just be whatever he chooses?” he asked.

“Do you wish to live your brother’s life or your own?” Eonwë asked. “You must consider who you are.”

Elrond knew who he was: a mortal. He had always been mortal. He was not sure what rule determined the mortality of peredhel souls, but they were mortal. He had never felt entirely at home with the Elves he had grown up with, either in Sirion or among the Fëanorians. He had never quite felt like anyone he knew (other than Elros, of course) until he had met the Mannish refugees fleeing the war. Their quick lives, their determination and lack of desire to sit and wait, made him feel like he belonged. He knew that they needed a leader, someone born and raised to be a king, trained in history and diplomacy and statecraft. He could be that person.

But Elros was different in this way. He had always been different. He did belong among Elves, and he had never questioned that. Instead, he had always been bothered by the knowledge that he was mortal, that he grew up too quickly but at the same time not quickly enough. When he had heard the story of their parents, the fact that their souls were now immortal despite their mixed birth, he had nearly cried in happiness at the thought that he might have the same option.

So Elrond did not need to ask to make the same choice as his brother. He did not need to demand to wait and find out what Elros would choose. He knew what his twin’s answer would be, and he knew how to keep them together.

“I will be one of the Eldar,” he said. “I will be immortal.”

There was just one thing that he had not considered. They were twins. And twins thought alike.

130 notes • Posted 2021-03-02 01:29:01 GMT

Who Named Elrond and Elros?

I was going to write about this when I got around to writing about elvish naming conventions, but since Tolkien scholar Michael Martinez just answered my question and basically said “I have no idea what you’re talking about”, I really want to see what you guys know or can figure out.

Here’s the link to the response: https://middle-earth.xenite.org/short-questions-and-answers-vol-8/ For another source, https://www.elfdict.com/w/elrond?include_old=0 says:

Conceptual Development: The name Elrond first appeared in early Silmarillion drafts from the late 1920s (SM/38) and was first published in the Hobbit in 1937. His name appeared in The Etymologies from the 1930s in two forms: Noldorin Elrond “Starry-dome” (Ety/EL) and Ilkorin Elrond “Vault of Heaven” (Ety/ROD), both with essentially the same etymology as his later Sindarin name. In a few places Tolkien considered alternate etymologies for this name: in his notes on “Words, Phrases and Passages from The Lord of the Rings” from the 1950s-60s, he suggested the final element might be rhond “body” (PE17/183), and in a letter to Rhona Beare from 1958, he suggested the initial element might be archaic †Ell “Elf” (Let/281). Both of these seem to have been transient ideas.

And something similar about Elros, which means “star-foam”.

Basically, I’ve heard at least two different translations for the names Elrond and Elros, and I’ve also heard at least two different options for how they got their names. I’d really like sources if you know them, because things are often circulated as canon when in fact, someone just made them up. I imagine this is discussed in some History of Middle Earth books I haven’t gotten around to reading, but some of you have.

Elwing named them

First, Elrond and Elros might be the mother-names given to them by Elwing. This makes a lot of sense, since El- names are very common in her line: Elwe/Elu Thingol, Dior Eluchil, Elured, Elurin, Elwing. The only person who doesn’t seem to have an El- name is Luthien, and I assume she does and we just don’t know it (since most elves have three or four names). If she named them, then these are the names they went by their whole lives. And mother-names are often used publicly, so that’s all right. This also fits with the explanation of their names: star-dome or “vault of heaven” and star-foam, both describing the night sky. This is what Michael Martinez says is most likely, also adding that there is evidence of Quenya versions of their names, which makes sense with Earendil as their father.

Gil-Galad’s people named them

The other version I’ve heard (and this is the one I really want to find a source on) is that Gil-Galad or his people named them when they found them after they were sent away by Maedhros and Maglor. In this version, they were named because of how they were found: Elrond sitting in a cave and Elros playing in a waterfall. Then Elrond means “elf of the cave” (a translation Tolkien Gateway supports, though it says the name is referring to the caves of Menegroth) and Elros means “elf of the spray”. However, the elfdict quote above claims that the translation of “el” as “elf” was rejected by Tolkien.

If this is how they were named, it’s really interesting to question why they kept using those names instead of their mother-names. Are they rejecting the memory of their early life and the other people they’ve lived with? Are they saying they’re different people now? Or is it just that everyone started calling them by the nicknames and they couldn’t seem to go back? This would also mean that they were called something else entirely by Maedhros and Maglor, which would be interesting to write about.

Maedhros and Maglor named them

I don’t know if I’ve ever actually heard this or it was just a misunderstanding of the above. For a while I thought it was Maglor who found them in the cave and waterfall. This would also explain the existence of a Quenya version of Elrond. It would be fascinating if they kept the names that their kidnappers gave them and a really strong sign that they were a genuine family... or that they were brainwashed beyond recognition.

They were named more than once

I think it was the Tolkien Professor who I remember talking about the fact that some characters are given the same name by more than one person independently. The best example is Aragorn being named Elessar by the people of Gondor, who had no idea that it was already one of his names. This could have to do with foresight (e.g. a declaration that he will be named Elessar) or just the way that fate works in Middle Earth (I’m pretty sure Luthien was already called Tinuviel before Beren came along). So it’s possible that Elrond and Elros were given those names for one reason by their mother and for an entirely different reason by someone else.

Please tell me which story you’ve heard and if you know a source for it!

151 notes • Posted 2021-08-01 13:55:50 GMT

We should do a Tolkien OC week. Prompts like self-insert/reader-insert, background characters (including maybe characters who do exist in the book but have no characterization?), gap filling characters (people we know must exist, like Legolas' mom, but aren't mentioned), love interests, and people who just kinda live in Middle Earth but have no real connection to plot.

Has this been done before? If not, does anyone want to do it?

178 notes • Posted 2021-04-29 13:12:28 GMT

Sex Positive vs. Sex Favorable

They’re not the same thing. Sex positive, neutral, and negative describes someone’s opinion on the morality of sex in general and its place in society. Sex favorable, indifferent, averse, and repulsed have to do with your own interactions with sex.

Favorable, indifferent, averse, and repulsed is mostly used for asexual-spectrum people, and a lot of aromantic-spectrum people use the same scale to describe their feelings towards romance. For instance, as an aroace, I am sex averse and romance indifferent. But allosexual (non-asexual) people might also find it helpful. Like, there are people who feel attraction towards other people but are sex averse and don’t want to have sex with anyone they’re attracted to. (There are also people fitting the same description who do identify as aspec, and that’s valid, too.)

Here’s the chart that’s commonly used used to explain the two scales. I’m going to add an image description afterwards, but I’m not really familiar with doing them so it may not be great.

[Image description: A picture divided vertically into two halves. The left half is white with black text and the right half is black with white text. Each half has several terms written in bold with a smaller description under each one. The text is in a handwriting-style font.

On the left side, it says, “Sex-positive: To have a positive attitude towards sex in general. Not necessarily for yourself, but any safe sex between consenting people. Sex-neutral: to have no opinion on sex in general, neither positive nor negative. Sex-negative: to have a negative attitude towards sex in general. To think sex is bad/wrong, even safe and between consenting people.”

On the right side, it says, “Sex-favorable: to have a positive attitude towards sex for yourself. To desire sex. Sex-indifferent: To have no opinion on sex for yourself, neither positive not negative. Sex-averse: to have a negative attitude toward sex for yourself. To not desire sex. Sex-repulsed: To be repulsed by the thought of sex.”

End description.]

People get these two scales mixed up constantly, and/or leave out words. Y’all, I know it’s hard. I have to go through both of them in my head before I mention either one to make sure I’m saying the right thing. But we can do better. Please! Like, one of my friends was angry at me when I came out as asexual to her because she thought I was attacking her sexuality. And yeah, I’m sex averse, but I hadn't told tell her that, and it has no bearing on what I think of her. It’s actually a common myth that the concept of asexuality is inherently sex negative, and we don’t need to encourage that by conflating sex negativity with being sex averse or repulsed.

Actually, most people fit somewhere on both scales. So I made a chart of my own that shows how they fit together. Personally, I’m in the top right corner, sex averse and (doing my best to be) sex positive.

[Image description: A three-by-three chart, similar to an alignment chart. The left column is labeled “sex favorable”, the middle column is labeled “sex indifferent”, and the right column is labeled “sex averse/repulsed”. The top row is labeled “sex positive”, the middle row is labeled “sex neutral”, and the bottom row is labeled “sex negative”.

The box in the top left of the chart reads, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people having consensual sex, and I personally like to have sex.” The box in the top middle reads, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people having consensual sex, and I personally don’t mind having sex.” The box in the top right reads, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people having consensual sex, but I personally don’t want to have sex.”

The middle-left box reads, “I think it’s sometimes all right for people to have sex, and I personally like to have sex.” The center box reads, “I think it’s sometimes all right for people to have sex, and I personally don’t mind having sex.” The middle-right box says, “I think it’s sometimes all right for people to have sex, but I personally don’t want to have sex.”

The box in the bottom left says, “I think sex is immoral (misspelled as "immortal"), but I personally like to have sex.” The bottom middle box says, “I think sex is immoral, but I personally don’t mind having sex.” The bottom right box says, “I think sex is immoral, and I personally don’t want to have sex.”

End description.]

So yeah, you can be sex positive and sex repulsed, or sex neutral and sex averse, or whatever! I’d say that a lot of American politicians are both sex negative and sex favorable. If you need more information, I added my own descriptions of the seven terms below the cut.

(I really wish I hadn’t made this so long, LOL. It took me way too long. Please reblog so it’s worth it?)

Sex positivity refers to the idea that any kind of consensual sex, whether with other people or alone, sexual fantasies, kinks, etc. are okay and not something to be ashamed of. It encourages sexual health, communication, and also the ability to say no to sex, because consent is the most important thing. Of course, this doesn’t apply to rape, pedophilia, bestiality, or even trying to get people involved in your fetish without telling them what you’re doing, because that’s not consensual.

The next step on the sex positivity spectrum is sex neutral, meaning that you believe consensual sex is okay in certain situations but not others (for instance, vanilla sex is okay but BDSM isn’t cool, or we have to prevent people from having random hook-ups because it’s bad for them). Or you might be sex neutral if you don’t really have an opinion on the morality of sex or don’t care enough to consider it.

Meanwhile, sex negative people think that sex is inherently immoral. Sex negativity opposes activities like masturbation and sex outside of marriage. Sometimes, sex negative people even believe that it’s only okay to have sex within marriage if you’re currently trying to have children.

Sex favorable, on the other hand, has to do with you, not society. A sex favorable person likes to have sex and might seek out sex or be excited when it happens. You don’t have to be sex favorable to be sex positive. You don’t have to be sex positive to be sex favorable. They’re two different things.

Sex indifferent means being okay with sex but not really liking it. Sex indifferent people might have sex if someone else wants to do it, but won’t really seek it out, or they might do it when they’re bored, or only if they’re especially turned on.

Sex averse people don’t want to have sex, for whatever personal reasons. They might not want to hear about sex or see sex or sexualized images, or they might be fine with that as long as they’re not personally involved in the sex.

Sex repulsed is basically a subset of sex averse. People who identify as sex repulsed are disgusted and/or triggered by the idea of sex. They not only don’t want to have sex (hence being a subset of sex-averse) but don’t want to see, hear about, or interact with it in any way. That doesn’t mean that sex repulsed people don’t believe that other people should have sex, they just don’t want other people’s sexual activity to have any impact on themselves personally.

My understanding is that sex repulsed is the same as apothisexual, which has its own pride flag:

[Image description: A pride flag with several stripes, in order: purple, white, black, white, red. There is a large black X over all five stripes of the flag. End description.]

814 notes • Posted 2021-06-07 01:22:10 GMT

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

Text

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Eight

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Eight

“If you’re taking me to a strip club, I’m walking out and crashing Magnus’s bachelor party.”

“Dude, have a little faith.” Jace grabbed Alec’s elbow and helped him out of the car.

“And stop scrunching your nose to try to see through the blindfold,” Izzy said from Alec’s other side. “We can see you doing it. Besides, do you really think there aren’t going to be strippers at Magnus’s party? Have you met Catarina and Ragnor?”

“Yes, and I trust their taste in strippers more than I trust yours.”

“I think I’m supposed to be insulted,” Izzy said, opening a door so Jace could usher Alec through, “but honestly, I kind of just want to ask Cat if she knows any good strip clubs I can take Clary to for our next date night.”

Alec made a pained sound. “Can I request a moratorium on anything that involves strippers and any of my siblings?”

“You can request it,” Jace said, “but it doesn’t mean we’ll listen. Mind the gap; you’re about to step into an elevator.”

“Isn’t my bachelor party supposed to be about things I like?”

Izzy pushed the button for their floor. “No, it’s supposed to be about doing things with your friends and siblings before you get married and forget all about us.”

“Iz, I meet you for drinks literally every week. I’m not going to stop just because Magnus and I are married instead of engaged.” A slow smile spread across Alec’s face. “I’m marrying Magnus tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you are.” Jace patted Alec’s shoulder as the elevator doors slid open. “Almost there, buddy.”

They led Alec out of the elevator and down the hall.

“Okay stop,” Izzy said when they reached their destination. “You can take the blindfold off now.”

Alec made a show of keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he pulled off the blindfold, opening one eye slowly as though bracing for something horrible. Jace saw the moment Alec recognized where he was, his shoulders relaxing all at once.

Alec glanced between his siblings, unimpressed. “This is the door to our loft. I live here.”

“I told you I was going to plan you the perfect bachelor party,” Jace said. “Did you really want to spend your last night as a single man somewhere else?”

“Your party awaits, big brother,” Izzy said, swinging the door open.

“Alexander!” Magnus met them at the door, smiling broadly. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up.”

“We had to drive around enough that he wouldn’t know where we were going,” Jace explained. “You know what his crazy sense of direction is like.”

Alec gave his fiancé a questioning look. “What happened to separate bachelor parties being an important part of the tradition?”

“Ragnor and Catarina reminded me that some traditions really aren’t that important,” Magnus said airily. “Especially when breaking them would make you happy.”

“He means he sulked and whined about having to spend all night away from you until we suggested a joint party,” Catarina said, handing Alec a martini and Izzy something dark and fruity with far too many cherries. “And then he pretended like it was all our idea.”

“It was pitiful, really,” Ragnor added. “At one point, he actually languished on my couch to moan about it like some discount gothic heroine.”

“And on that note,” Magnus said, taking Alec’s arm, “my fiancé and I will be going to join our friends who don’t intend to spend all evening mocking me.”

“That’s really sweet, you know,” Alec said as he let Magnus lead him away.

“Well,” Ragnor said, “it’s my duty as Magnus’s co-best-man to make sure he is sufficiently mocked this evening, so I suppose I must follow.” He looked at Jace and Izzy. “I believe Clary and Simon are in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the cupcakes.”

Jace threw Izzy a questioning look. “Cupcakes?”

Izzy shook her head. “Must have been something Ragnor and Catarina planned. Let’s go see.”

The cupcakes, it turned out, were dick-shaped. And because it was Clary decorating them, they were very accurately dick-shaped.

“Oh yeah,” Izzy laughed, “this was definitely Cat’s doing.”

“Cat was in charge of baking, I’m in charge of decorating,” Clary confirmed, eyeing the cupcake she was working on critically. “Devil’s food cake with a chocolate-and-whiskey ganache filling and a variety of different icings. We’re calling them cock-cakes. Simon, pass me the lemon buttercream?”

“You got it, boss,” Simon said, grabbing one of the many pastry bags lined out on the counter and handing it to Clary before stepping over to Jace and greeting him with a warm smile that made Jace’s insides melt. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” Jace couldn’t help his answering smile, couldn’t help drawing Simon into a soft kiss that felt easier than it probably should. “If I knew you were going to be creating culinary dick art without me, I would have made Iz drive Alec around on her own.”

“I’m mostly just assisting.” Simon leaned into him, stealing another quick kiss. “Clary’s the real artistic genius behind this masterpiece.”

“It’s true, my girlfriend is a genius,” Izzy agreed happily, walking over to wrap her arms around Clary’s waist from behind.

“Right now, this artistic genius is being distracted from finishing her cupcakes by too many people in the kitchen. You two,” she gestured at Simon and Jace, “take that finished tray out to the table.”

“Wait, how come we have to be the ones to leave?” Simon wondered. “Izzy’s being way more distracting than we are.”

“Because she’s cuter than you are,” Clary said without looking up from her cupcakes. “Go.”

Jace looked at Simon. “The lady has spoken, I guess. Come on, let’s go watch Alec pretend he doesn’t think these cupcakes are hilarious.”

~~~

Jace couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy. He wasn’t sure he ever had been this happy. The joint bachelor party had been a rousing success—cock-cakes, a stripper who was definitely not better than he would have hired, and all—and Jace was so glad he and Izzy had been able to help do this for Alec. And it had been amazing to see Alec so joyful and so obviously in love, to see Izzy and Clary and how happy they made each other. To feel the possibility of a love like that for himself every time Simon took his hand, to see it every time Simon smiled at him, to hear it every time Simon said his name.

It was enough to make him want to be a little reckless. Maybe even reckless enough to tell Simon that he was more to Jace than a fake-boyfriend-with-benefits, that Jace wanted them to be more. It was hardly a new thought, but Jace thought that maybe he was finally ready to say the words out loud.

“Hey, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” Simon said, as if reading his thoughts. “When we get back to the hotel,” he added, throwing a pointed glance at their Uber driver.

Jace smiled at him. “Sure. I actually wanted to talk to you, too.”

“Cool.” Simon sounded nervous. Jace could relate. Now that this was actually happening, he felt like he had an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies in his chest.

Jace’s butterflies hadn’t calmed down any by the time they made it back to their room, and he could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off Simon as he kicked his shoes off and started pulling out his clothes for morning.

“So,” Jace said, leaning against the wall with an affected casualness, “what did you want to talk about?”

Simon squared his shoulders, turned to face him. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Jace’s whole world rocked sideways. “What?”

This was not how this conversation was supposed to go.

“This whole fake dating thing. It was a mistake. I probably shouldn’t even have suggested it in the first place, but I thought—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong, and I can’t keep pretending with you, so.” He took a deep breath, obviously steeling himself. “So, this is has to be it. After the wedding tomorrow, no more pretending.”

“Oh.” It was all Jace could find it in himself to say. He reached for the bravado he would normally wrap around himself in a situation like this, but it had deserted him entirely. “I can’t keep pretending with you.” It had all been pretend for Simon. And Jace didn’t even have any right to be hurt by it, because it was what he’d agreed to.

“It’s just,” Simon continued, “seeing Alec and Magnus so happy tonight, and seeing the way Clary and Izzy are together, and even the dumb text Becky sent me earlier about how excited she is to see Maia tomorrow, it all made me realize just how much I want that. I want it with someone I love who loves me back, and you—”

“And I’m not a relationship kind of guy,” Jace finished for him. He didn’t actually need to hear all the reasons that would never be him. He was aware of his own failings.

“Right.” Simon’s voice was barely above a whisper, all his nervous energy having drained away.

“I get it.” Jace forced a smile. Maybe he couldn’t be someone Simon wanted to really be with, but he could at least pretend he wasn’t devastated by that fact. “You deserve that kind of happiness, maybe more than anyone I know. I hope—” He drew in a sharp breath. He would not let his voice tremble. “I hope you find someone who can give it to you.”

He turned away, unable to maintain the facade any longer. “I’m going to hit the shower before bed.” He wasn’t proud of having to hide the bathroom with his feelings, but he couldn’t stay here with Simon, not now.

Jace spent a long time under the shower’s spray. Until he was sure Simon must have fallen asleep. Until he was sure all his tears had washed away.

~~~

Best man duties were almost enough to distract Jace from his own problems for most of the next morning, and he threw himself into making sure everyone in the wedding party was where they were supposed to be when they were supposed to be, keeping Max away from anything flammable, and keeping Maryse and Robert away from each other. In the thankfully rare moments of downtime, he forced himself to put on a lighthearted demeanor. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of Alec having a perfect wedding, especially not his own stupid feelings.

He should have known that Alec would see right through him.

“You okay?”

Jace glanced up from the mirror he was using to fix his bowtie. Everything was set, everyone was in their proper places, and Jace had nothing left to do but keep Alec company and wait for the ceremony to start.

“I’m fine. I’m not the one getting married in,” Jace checked his watch, “twenty-three minutes.”

“Don’t deflect. You’re doing that thing you do with your eyebrows when something’s really bothering you, and I’m not doing anything for the next twenty-three minutes if you want to talk about it.”

“What I want,” Jace told him, “is for you to stop worrying about other people and get your ass married.”

“Fair enough,” Alec agreed. “But I’m here when you do want to talk about it. I know I’ve been completely wrapped up in wedding stuff for a while, but you’re still my brother and my best friend, and I don’t want you to think you’re any less important to me now than you always have been.”

Jace walked over and put a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “The only complaint I have about you being wrapped up in wedding stuff is how sappy it’s apparently made you.”

Alec chuckled. “Oh god, that was really sappy, wasn’t it? Shit.” He wiped at his eyes. “I think I might actually cry out there. You’re not allowed to make fun of me if I do.”

“Buddy,” Jace said gravely, “as your brother and best man, it is my solemn duty to make fun of you for it for the rest of our lives. But I’ll wait until you’re back from your honeymoon.”

Alec didn’t cry during the ceremony. Jace noticed a few moments when he had distinctly watery eyes, though, and filed those away for future teasing. Then Alec and Magnus were kissing and the ceremony was over and Jace had absolutely nothing left to distract him from his thoughts.

Especially when the subject of those thoughts was waiting for him in the reception hall, looking as hot as Jace had ever seen him in a perfectly tailored black suit. Jace had managed to avoid looking for Simon during the wedding, and seeing him now hit like a punch to the gut. His emotions were still too raw to deal with what had happened the night before, and there was only one way he was going to make it through this. Luckily, it was the thing he was supposed to be doing. Namely, pretending his ass off.

So he greeted Simon with a warm smile and a kiss to the cheek before settling into his seat. They were at a table with the rest of the wedding party, along with Clary, and it was all so familiar that Jace had no trouble falling back into his role, teasing the hell out of Alec and congratulating the happy couple. Simon made it easy, not acting any different than he had before their conversation, never hesitating to offer small touches and gestures of physical affection, even moving his chair closer so they could lean into each other once they were done eating. It would have made Jace a little sick if he let himself think about it, which he pointedly did not.

Jace let himself get lost in it. It was stupid, and probably a little selfish, but if this was the last time he would ever get to be with Simon like this, he was going to enjoy it.

“Dance with me.” He didn’t mean to say it, but apparently he’d had enough champagne that he wasn’t quite thinking before speaking anymore. He knew as soon as he said it that he’d overstepped. After all, look what had happened the last time they’d danced together.

“Oh.” Simon looked genuinely shocked by the suggestion. “I, uh...”

“I mean,” Jace backpedaled, “if you want to.”

“I believe I might fancy a dance, myself,” Ragnor said. He extended his hand to Madzie, the flower girl and Catarina’s daughter. “Might I have this dance, young lady?”

“Can we do the twirls?” Madzie asked, jumping up from her chair and spinning around to demonstrate.

“Obviously,” Ragnor told her seriously. “After all, what’s the point of dancing without twirls?”

Madzie didn’t bother to give a verbal answer, just grabbed Ragnor’s hand and skipped off toward the dance floor.

“With any luck, that will help her work off some of the sugar buzz from all that cake.” Catarina gave Magnus a long look. “I can’t believe you gave her a second slice.”

“My dearest Catarina, it’s my wedding day, and I will spoil my goddaughter if I want to.”

Catarina scoffed. “You say that like you don’t spoil her every day.”

“It’s true,” Alec agreed. “We might need to give her a third slice if we want to spoil her extra today.” He managed to keep a straight face right up until Cat’s napkin hit him in the face.

“I think I might need to dance off my own sugar buzz,” Izzy announced, grabbing Clary’s hand. “Come on, hot stuff. Let’s go shake our booties.”

Clary laughed. “I can’t exactly say no when you’re offering to shake your booty for me.”

“You know what?” Simon said suddenly. The look he gave Jace was challenging. “I do want to dance.”

It was Jace’s turn to be shocked, but he recovered quickly. “Okay.” He met Simon’s challenge with a smirk. “Let’s dance.”

Jace’s bravado was shaken slightly when the music transitioned to a slow love song right as they made it to the dance floor. But Simon didn’t hesitate, stepping onto the dance floor and drawing him close.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke, rocking gently to the music. They danced close enough that Jace could hear Simon’s breaths, feel them against his cheek. It was too much and not enough all at once, and Jace had to say something or he was going to go crazy.

“Thanks, by the way. For, you know, all of this. I don’t think I ever said that.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” Simon’s voice was low and intimate. “This was as much for me as it was for you.”

Jace wanted to say that it couldn’t possibly be, that if any of this meant half what it did to him for Simon, then he wouldn’t be able to give it up so easily. But that would have been deeply unfair, no matter how true, so instead he just said, “Well, thank you, anyway.”

Simon pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, and Jace didn’t understand why he looked so sad. “Thank you.”

And then they were kissing, slow and gentle, and Jace didn’t even remember moving, but he must have or how else could they have gotten here? All the longing and heartbreak he’d been pushing down all day rose up, threatening to break him open and spill out all over the dance floor. The only things holding him together were Simon’s arms around him, Simon’s body pressed against his as they swayed to near-forgotten music, Simon’s mouth on his.

When the song ended and Simon pulled away from him, Jace stumbled and had to force himself upright.

“Come back to the hotel with me,” he said urgently. He couldn’t just let Simon go, he realized, not without at least trying. They could go back to their room, and they could talk, and Jace would somehow find the words to convince Simon to stay. “Please.”

Simon closed his eyes and visibly steeled himself. When he opened them again, Jace knew he’d lost before he even had the chance to put up a fight.

“I already made plans to hang out with Becky and Maia tonight. You know, sibling and sibling’s-maybe-girlfriend bonding. Maia’s going to give me a ride back to Boston in the morning.” He took Jace’s hand and lifted it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on his knuckles, then pressed something small and metal into his palm before letting go.

Jace couldn’t do anything but watch him walk away, the weight of his father’s ring heavier than it had any right to be in his hand.

~~~

The apartment was quiet when Jace got home, and he was both relieved that he wouldn’t have to face Simon yet and disappointed because, as much as he hated that he would have to box his feelings away, he missed Simon, even though it had only been two days since they’d last seen each other.

He found the note pinned to the refrigerator, held in place by the Spider-Man magnet that he’d gotten Simon as a “congrats on surviving a horrible lab partner and not failing chemistry” gift last year.

Staying at Bat’s for a while. -S

That was all. Nothing about why Simon had left or when he was coming back. If he was coming back. Jace’s fingers almost itched with the need to text Simon to find out exactly what the hell was going on, but the fact that Simon had left a note instead of texting suggested he didn’t mean for this to be a discussion.

Not that Jace actually needed a discussion. Simon had made it very clear that things were over between the two of them, that he didn’t feel the same way about Jace that Jace did about him, and instead of accepting it and moving on like a good friend would have, he’d kissed Simon at the wedding. He’d been on the verge of begging Simon to give him a chance. Of course Simon didn’t want to see him right now. He wouldn’t want to see him, either.

For half a second, Jace considered taking Alec up on his offer to call if he needed to talk, but Alec was on his honeymoon, and Jace might on occasion be a self-centered asshole, but he didn’t want to be that much of a self-centered asshole. Instead, he grabbed his half-empty package of Double Stuf Oreos and took them to the couch, where he turned on Return of the Jedi and bundled himself up in the fleece blanket Simon always used when his feet got too cold in winter.

When the movie was over and the Oreos were long gone, he dragged the blanket into Simon’s room and curled up on his bed, on top of the covers. Sleeping on top of Simon’s bed wasn’t as pathetic as sleeping in Simon’s bed, he reasoned. Especially if no one was there to see it. And if the fleece blanket kept any tears from getting on Simon’s comforter, then he wasn’t really crying.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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