#sharpglance

“I like it,” the newcomer confesses, turning his head to look at Glorfindel with an earnest look. “It is quiet and subdued, but still alive. Bright enough that one can see without hurting the eyes, even if the moon were new. Was it designed this way?” 

“Yes, it was supposed to be reminiscent of Tirion upon Túna, where most of us are from.” He turned to look at Maeglin, a far away smile on his lips and a softness to his expression, “but I will assume you know that already and have no need of a history lesson from me.”

He looked back himself over the rooftops and houses that lay before them; flags fluttering in the light breeze from the East, their colours washed pale and muted, softer. His own house was partially hidden from view by the tall trellises and trees planted in the Alley of Roses on the lead to it, but the banner rose tall from the highest point and the rayed sun on it was still gold, if burnished now under the moon not shining as it did in the day.

HELLO CALLING ALL FIC WRITERS - WE NEED YOU TO MAKE OUR FANTASIES INTO A “””REALITY”””

but really it’s going to be amazing i swear

- with the death of the direct mo family, mxy is the only one left to “lead” and “reign” over the village

- since lwj doesn’t mind lsz calling him “papa”, he silently expects mxy to do the same

- lwj once said this straight to mxy’s face and our little cut-sleeve froze - mxy.exe stopped working

- lsz now has a big brother but silently despairs over the fact that the other never experienced being “””buried””” wwx slyly tells him to rectify that himself and lwj hushes him

- jiang cheng now has more nephews and he’s unimpressed (he visits sometimes to make sure lsz and mxy are doing fine but it’s not like he cares it’s just that yknow wwx is irresponsible so somebody has to)

-  mxy integrates a lot of demonic cultivation under the tutelage of wwx (he’s the only one wwx sort of actively teaches tbh)

- let the entire novel still happen and in the afterlife, wwx looks for mxy and drags him out of there (this is the first time mxy sees light in a long time - whether it’s the light of being alive again or wwx’s smile…)

- mxy starts as closed off as he doesn’t know how to react to everything and everyone around him (he expected death and didn’t plan beyond that tbh) but when he gets his groove and footing OH DEAR IS THAT WWX THE 2ND???

- GOLD MINE OF HUMOR FOR ALL THE POSSIBILITIES HERE IM TELLING YOU

- he’s jin ling’s uncle lol think of all the teasing he and wwx would do to the young mistress

The ram listens to his improv drinking buddy’s reasoning with keen interest, intrigued by the thought put into his response. A finger traces the rim of his cup as he thinks over a suitable response on what he preferred. There was indeed something to be said for the merits of iron; the abundance of the metal made it far more accessible to smiths and one could craft in abundance. It was useful for many reasons, for one could readily arm every soldier with iron weapons and armor.

Of everything he’d worked with, iron was certainly the most plentiful and the metal he had most experience with.

However...

“Bronze.” He determines with a simple enthusiasm, yet he quickly explains, “Not for weapons.”

It was true one could forge a weapon befitting a king with copper and tin, but that wasn’t what led him to fondness for the material,

He’d meant to leave Imladris days ago for one reason: Midsummer. It was coming quickly and Maeglin absolutely did not want to be in the valley for the holiday. Besides Glorfindel, there were others who had been at Gondolin that he knew about and likely many more that he did not know about. Thankfully, it seemed that awareness of his presence in the valley was suppressed, for the most part. But it didn’t mean that he was keen to expose himself before he’d made good on his promise to make his stay a short one.

Much to his surprise, somehow he was able to make an acquaintanceship with a complete stranger. Granted, she was unusual in manner and in habit, but Maeglin didn’t mind. It was refreshing, in fact, to shed much of his bristled, guarded habits. It seemed Lindethiel was not outwardly curious about him to ask for background or personal information from him. For that, Maeglin was also grateful. Whatever their semi-regular conversations were, Maeglin found that he didn’t mind the break in his detachment from others.

Considering the day, he very nearly ended up spending the entire day in the visiting quarters. But just as the sun reached its zenith, Maeglin restlessly left the room. The day was not one for socializing or wandering about if he could help it, but an usual agitated mood kept him from sitting alone all day with nothing but an unfortunately chosen book. Picking up not one but two bottles of wine along the way, he hoped Lindethiel was where he’d seen her before, in the Hall of Fire. It was worth checking if the worst thing that could happen was a scolding or a particular brand of look thrown his way.

Thankfully, she was there - and even better, not many others were in the Hall.

“Lindethiel,” he called out just before easing himself into a seat. “If you are not busy today-?” Voice trailing off with uncertainty, he lifted a bottle of already-opened wine in a wordless request for her to join him.

It was an odd day. One of those days where everyone is tense with Knowing A Thing but trying to pretend there’s nothing special to know. She’d popped in to visit Goldenboy earlier, worried about him and worried about everyone worrying about him. While she didn’t have the exact experience of Having Died Along With All the People She Loved Due to a Horrible Betrayal, she’d been through enough shit and dealt with enough cautiously awkward pity to know it was exhausting. Like people waiting for you to break but acting like they cared.

So she’d been rudely polite enough to bluntly address the day, and had her answer well enough: he wanted company for the evening, but was seemingly busying himself with work for the day. Good enough. Which meant she had a day to while away before spending a night feeling out of place.

Friendships were exhausting and annoying.

She glanced up at the sound of her name and flashed a grin to her now-and-then-companion. Rocky, as she’d dubbed him, and he seemed content enough to be dubbed.

“You’re in luck, I’m not one to enjoy the popular spectator sport of Waiting for Someone to Have a Meltdown.” Abandoning the cat she’d been stroking near one of the many fires, she strolled over and gracelessly dropped into a seat beside him. With all the concern for propriety as her feline friend, she propped her feet on the table, ankles crossed. “I take it you’re not into that either? Weird day. I usually timed my trips to keep me away from these sorts of events.”

Erestor carried the precious scrolls - in their respective cases - in his arms as he shuffled quickly along to the House of the Mole. The promotion had come unexpectedly, and though it was an honour - of course it was an honour - he had to remind himself of that fact constantly. The position would be beneficial to him, and he reminded himself that if he did a good job, there was no way lord Maeglin could take issue with him.

That said, it was no secret that lord Maeglin was not one of the easiest lords to work with, and it was known that since his return from his extended inspection of the mines, that he’d fired his seneschal of many years. And rumour was, he’d done this without reason. It was this that made Erestor nervous about beginning this form of employment.

Being seneschal to lord Maeglin of the House of the Mole was one of the greatest honours he could be awarded, as it meant being of direct service to the king’s family - and that he was requested specifically for this? It was a dream, but being seneschal meant dedicating almost all of his time to the House, and that left little time for him to develop in other areas.

This meant that if lord Maeglin decided he didn’t need a seneschal, Erestor would likely find himself without work for quite some time if no one was looking to hire for a similar position.

Before he knew it, he was at the door and knocking upon it stiffly. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. Who really knew what awaited on the other side of the door? 

It was a one-man show at the forges of Imladris. Maeglin had managed to discourage any others interested in using the area to work simply with his strange festivities: he was using the forge to create what looked to be detailed finish work with iron. He was creating the swirls of vines and leaves in an intricate, ever overlapping manner. In between his gentle strikes of a hammer to create leaves and flowers, he would sing aloud in a language that sounded harsh and guttural to Elvish ears. In between uses of the coals to reheat his work, Maeglin picked up a bottle of wine and took a healthy drink. In a refrain of his dwarvish forge-song, Maeglin glanced over and saw a familiar face.

“Minstrel!” he called out with a half-smile. The light of the forge illuminated his face in a strange way. “Have you come to join in my song?”

No; in truth, she hadn’t.  She’d been on her way to the stables to sneak an apple to a mare she was fond of; but in passing the forges, had gone stock-still, eyes wide and ears slicked back with panic.

On the outside, it must have seemed silly enough- one drunk Elf singing amid his craft was not something Rossiel should have feared.  But between the fire-glow, the hammer’s ring, and the sound of the Dwarven-tongue -- even from someone who was very obviously not a Dwarf -- it was enough to freeze her to the spot as though some icy hand gripped her very fëa.

🖍️ When did you start drawing? Do you remember? i started drawing when i was had just turned 12, so it's been... close to 12 years now, holy shit. i remember doing an art summary meme and only having 4 years' worth of material, so this is kinda wild to think about now.

but yeah. i was 12, had just moved to sweden and i was Really Bored - i had drawn stuff before then too, of course, but it hadn't been something i particularly enjoyed, since i had such a hard time coming up with ideas and figuring out how to, well, actually draw stuff :')

🙃 Which is easier: faces facing left, right, or front view?front view is tricky because it's easy to get too caught up in symmetry, but i've been enjoying it more these days and i default to it a lot when just sketching because it's easier to shift the angle as i go along. nevertheless, in a finished piece, 3/4 view is pretty much always easier for me, regardless of where it's facing haha (i don't have a preference on that front tbh, i try to switch them up)