#maedhrus

[midwrites]

ohhhh for the wip game what's the armitozer ice!au? 👀

Answering both you and @noeavoiding

Armitozer Ice!AU, also known as my Terror Permawinter!AU, which is a two-part post-apocalyptic AU set in an England that's been trapped in a perpetual winter for the past 3-5 years.

Tozer is a courier travelling through the country delivering goods from shelter to shelter in his van. Armitage a stowaway that popped up in his trunk one day, unannounced hoping to reunite with his mum. You can read the first part and a half of the series here!!

I do plan on continuing the series! The past year and a half has just been absolutely draining both personally and creatively, so as I slowly get back on track with older projects I do intend to, at some point, finish this one too!! (It's very dear to me+the following chapter is halfway done)

Here's a little unpublished snippet!

There’s frozen tarmac against his cheek when he opens his eyes again. He needs to get up. The cows will step on him. Whatever that whisper was will get him. Sol won’t be able to get away. Sol won’t be able to help more people. Sol. Strong arms are hauling him up before he can pull himself together, a gust of warmth burning against the scrape on his cheek, a deep inhale of the stale air inside of the van bringing him to his senses. He’s never been more thankful for old pine air freshener and lemon candy in his life. “Alright?” Sol is there. Sol, warm and comforting, practically kneeling on top of his seat to take a good look at him, his whole face scrunched up with worry. I could have died. I could have died and never seen the sun again, some rusty part of his brain, still high with adrenaline musters, bringing back old notions from a Spanish class he abandoned long before he finished school. The road is almost clear when Tommy’s sight comes into focus, the herd piled around the gate, their hooves trampling the tracks he had left on the snow, making them disappear. He cannot see the brambles from here. He cannot hear the whispers. But the fear is still there. Dread colder than the snow making him shiver. “Drive.” It’s barely a whisper. “What are you—?” “Drive!” he begs, shrill and desperate, scared for a second that it will be too much, that Sol won’t listen.

[parhelios]

for the headcanon game john irving (obviously) and any or all of 🕊️, 🧨, or ⚓️

i’m also curious if you have any for william malcolm, particularly 🌪️ or 🌀

you read my mind on characters i wanted to talk about <3

john irving

🕊️ - ㅤwhen did they feel the safest?

i think that john is someone who struggles to feel safe often, due to his own hot mess of fears and neuroses. i think that it's other people who make him feel safe, and so tbh? his time on the beldivera is my answer for this. that, or when he meets koveyook and the netsilik for an in-show answer.

🧨 - what’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well?

i think that john gets most angry when he feels scared or threatened, and he blows up about it (see the whole scene with manson) so i think like. any time someone makes him feel vulnerable he gets angry in response as a preemptive defense

⚓ - ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them?

home is the people he loves! i think that years spend moving, on boats where he feels more often than not alone, in australia where he is miserable, none of these physical places have what he really wants which is human connection and people who care about him. it's those human connections that make him feel at home.

wiliam elphinstone malcolm

🌪️ - what’s the one choice they regret (not) making?

i think choosing not to take the chance and confess his love to john when he could. especially once john goes on the expedition and it starts to seem like he's not coming back, malcolm hates the thought that john might die never knowing the depths of his feelings, especially knowing john's insecurities.

🌀 - ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare?

i have this idea of malcolm dreaming of john alone on the shale, and malcolm is following him, just out of reach, unable to touch him or speak to him. john won't turn around to look at him, and he struggles to recall what john even looks like. very orpheus and eurydice, very much the "don't go where i can't follow you" energy that permeates their relationship

ask me questions about my character headcanons!!

[columbidaae]

i LOVE the way you title your wips!! also i’m intrigued by the “sharing beds like little kids” one if you don’t mind talking about it!

Aww thank you!!!! I answered about ‘sharing beds like little kids’ here! but you can have an extra snippet from the overarching universe that I probably won’t manage to fit into this fic: here’s Sol coming back from a date with Irving, very early on in their relationship. Ned is really enjoying watching two of his closest friends fall in love <3

“Solomon Tozer,” comes an even voice out of the darkness, and Sol nearly jumps out of his fucking skin, just barely swallowing a cry of alarm. “God, if I had my office chair down here I’d do the ‘spinning around slowly to face you’ thing, like I’m a Bond villain. Do you have any idea what time it is, young man?”

Solomon glares at Edward, smiling mildly at him from the sofa in the soft glow of a single lamp and his laptop. “Jesus bloody Christ, Ned,” he says, very controlled, “give a man a fucking heart attack. You know you didn’t need to wait up.”

“The girls are asleep. I had some work to do.”

“Not at your desk?” Ned just shrugs. He’s still grinning.

“How was it?”

Sol gives him a tired glare, mostly just on principle. It’s rare for Ned to not mind his own business about something, so this is particularly smarmy of him. Bastard. “It was nice,” he says pointedly, “if you must know, you prick. We had a very nice dinner at a very nice restaurant and it was just—it was very nice.”

“I’m glad you had a good time!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Not spending the night?”

“Get fucked, Little.”

[rahabs]

for the fic writer ask: 4 (either edward or thomas for any of your terror stuff but especially scrimshaw or beggar's knowledge of want because i love them sm), 5, and 7 if you don't mind?

4. Share a headcanon about (character name) in (story title)!

In Scrimshaw, Edward spends a great deal of time worrying about Thomas' mental state, more than he lets on. Thomas, more than Edward himself, has undergone some pretty substantial physical changes in some ways, and is not aware of it (or is peripherally aware, as some of his language suggests, but hasn't really grasped it/cannot grasp it due to the nature of what he is and how he became that way). Edward conversely, is aware, and has been in some ways since Thomas found him in that camp, and so he keeps a very close eye, but it's a large reason why he's not as willing to believe Thomas about seeing things in the woods, and why he's so protective.

5. Is there a tiny detail in one of your fics that you feel goes tragically unnoticed?

There is! In Scrimshaw, in fact. Several, including a big one, which has to do with Thomas' nature and the strange woman he keeps seeing at every turn, and why he's so different from Edward. There's some knowledge that Thomas and Edward do not have about their own natures and what makes them what they are (and so what makes them different from one another--Edward is more aware than Thomas, because, as stated in #4, he sees what Thomas cannot, but he doesn't understand why because he still lacks much of the cultural knowledge surrounding the creatures they have become), and so it is never explicitly explained in the fic, but there are hints scattered throughout. In the sequel (the very contentious sequel), if I ever finish it, it becomes a lot more explicit, largely because it's the crux of the events of the sequel.

That said, I also very much did it on purpose, so it's been really interesting to see the theories other people have had about it! I know what I have in mind, but I've truly loved seeing how others explain it.

7. Share a line or paragraph you’ve written that you don’t think will ever actually be posted in anything! (Or, if you don’t hoard cut sentences and passages like I do, share anything you want that has yet to see the light of day!)

This was from a joplittle prompt someone gave me once ("I broke my rules for you"). I got about 2k in and stalled. Maybe I'll resurrect it one of these days... it'd be nice to finish it.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, more of a wheeze this time, to the dead weight of his Tam in his arms. “I’m sorry for everything.” Sorry they were here. Sorry for dragging Thomas down with him. Sorry for the things he’d said and done, and the things he hadn’t. Especially for the things he hadn’t. Sorry for not noticing Thomas’ condition until the Captain had already been stolen from them and Edward had burst into the tent to find Thomas unmoving and delirious on the bed. He wondered if Le Vesconte’s face still bore upon it the blood from Edward’s fist, as Edward’s skin itself still did, a rusty smear that mixed in with the blood of Hickey’s mates, dead and gone, consumed, though by what Edward still did not know. His mind flicked back to the sights and sounds of England, of the stage shows he’d had the pleasure of watching—stories of times long ago, echoing with an ancient message. None of those memories helped him now, save that he could feed them gently to Thomas in a whisper as they walked, his own voice thin and ragged. He’d never had a particularly nice one to begin with, but he pitied Thomas for having to hear it now all the more. He prayed Thomas could hear it at all.

fanfic writer asks

[charlesdesvoeux]

for the ask game i’d love to hear more about “song of jirv”!

a very soft post-rescue AU where jirv goes to spend a little while on william malcom's country house and uhhh. things happen. thing is jirv is one of my favorite guys to write about but i sometimes feel i don't have the cultural repertoire to do him justice, i guess? i don't know much about the bible, or the 19th century presbyterian mentality. and bc i'm a little crazy it makes me feel like i shouldn't be writing him too much, i guess. i know it doesn't make sense lol. here's a snippet (at this point he's in his brother's house):

In his nightmares he sees a pale, monstrous thing towering over him in the shale. He’s lying down; he can’t move, no matter how much he wills himself to rise, to fight it, to not go down like a calf bound for slaughter. The figure both is and isn’t a man; it has a large mouth with unnaturally sharp teeth, like a beast, but also reddened hair and blue eyes that look down on him with a viciousness he thought human beings simply weren’t capable of having. The thing lowers himself until its face is close enough to touch his; it snarls and then it bites-- John wakes up screaming. But he looks around and all he sees is a small but comfortable room, mostly shrouded in darkness, though the first few signs of dawn peek gently through the curtain. He grips the mattress with undue strength; his other hand reaches up to touch the wooden cross he wears around his neck. He takes a deep breath. All is well, John. All is well. [...] The cold brings a dull ache to the many scars spread across his chest. He wonders if his family is already up. Perhaps it would be best to wait until sunrise to go down and break fast. Meanwhile, he contemplates his room-- the guest bedroom of his brother’s house in Falkirk. It is quite simple-- a rather faded green wallpaper with floral motifs covers the walls; there is a writing desk with a small stack of papers and a pen, and a little shelf with a Bible, a prayer book, and some writings by theologians-- all quite familiar to him, of course. For most of his life these texts would have been enough; they would have satiated his hunger for explanations, for comfort, for salvation. But now, they felt strangely lacking.

[aredhels]

for the wip ask i’m intrigued by the “maemags2” one!!

!!!!!!! it is the sequel to the maemags fic with obsessive manipulative maglor i wrote last month in a frenzy when the pairing grabbed me in a chokehold, idk yet if it's gonna be split into multiple fics or not but it's gonna cover their years in beleriand starting from burning the ships :) and ending in maedhros's death :)

[arofili]

Through Bliss to Woe, Through Sorrow to Joy

a fic for the @tolkienrsb 2022, written by @maedhrus and featuring art by me @arofili | @annaquenta !

“The storm battered the swan boats. It felt like divine intervention. Ossë raging and spitting at the murderers, Ulmo allowing it. That felt worse. The permissibility of their suffering.”

In the aftermath of the First Kinslaying, Nelyafinwë Maitimo makes a different choice and Findekáno accompanies the first host. This changes many things.

Rating: M | No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon, Fëanor & Maedhros, Fingolfin & Fingon, Maedhros & Sons of Fëanor, Fëanor & Fingon Characters: trans!Fingon, Maedhros, Fëanor, Curufin, Fingolfin, Sons of Fëanor Word count: 18.6k

Full art piece rebloggable HERE! (Rating: T)

READ IT ON AO3! (available beginning 9/10/22!)

[parhelios]

last line tag

thank you so much to @maedhrus for tagging me!!

rules: share the last line from your fic you wrote, and tag as many people as there are words

my four wip taps i have open are screamin at me to give it a rest but i simply refuse. i have written like 3k over the past two days. i'm gonna do the last little section i wrote, which is funny because it's actually supposed to be the opening lines

The road to the top of the harbor was a route which John had walked many times, but never before had he felt quite so alone doing it. From high above, one could see Bighi Bay spread out like a book, the clear blue water glittering in the afternoon sun. Ships of all kinds bustled with sailors, indistinguishable from afar. It made it easier to imagine that somewhere, down there, Malcolm was waiting for him.

i am also gonna tag on vibes & i am so sorry beloved mutuals if you are not a fic writer or if you don't have a current wip: @all-seeing-ifer @queermoths @luthanraels-bignaturals @eiswolfzero