#the dark knight headers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 3 months ago

Text

Hi friends! I know it's been a while (over a month, woof), since I published a fic. Summer is a busy time for me - birthdays, social occasions, festivals, etc. And now I am heading off on holiday for a week. I have been working hard on chapter one of Fire on the Mountain whenever I have a free moment, and wanted to have it finished before I went away today, however, between working and trying to get myself packed and ready to leave for the airport, I've not had time and I didn't want to publish something hurried and low quality. It is very close to being finished, and will be my first priority when I return from my holiday (I will still be around, can't resist a snoop at Tumblr while poolside, I just won't be able to write)

Anyway, to tide you over, I leave you with the following snippet!

Header by my beloved recipient of sour cream and onion dust fingers, @vampire-exgirlfriend

Lia props herself up on her elbow, lying on her side as she watches Alicent carefully stitch delicate powder blue flowers into the fabric suspended within her embroidery hoop. Her own lies discarded beside her, she had given up when the thread had become knotted, in no mood to attempt to fix it.

“Alicent…” she begins slowly, “do you ever think about why your father wanted to bring you to King’s Landing?”

Alicent keeps her eyes upon her needlepoint, her tone matter of fact as she continues her work. “To instruct me in what is expected of a highborn lady.”

Lia huffs, leaning across and tugging Alicent’s sleeve to get her full attention. “Yes, but why?”

Alicent sighs, lowering her embroidery hoop into her lap, fixing Lia with an exasperated stare. “To give me the best possible opportunities in life, so that an appropriate match may be made for me.”

“And that is enough for you, is it? To simply be married off to a man who is not of your choosing?”

She lowers her gaze, her voice soft. “My mother did not choose my father, and yet they were very happy.”

“But is that what you want?”

“What is it that you are trying to get at?”

Lia hums, flopping down onto her back against the plush rug that they sit upon in the solar, clasping her hands across her front as she stares up at the vaulted ceiling. “I am unsure of my own purpose, what it is that I want.”

Alicent nods in understanding. “Well, there will be plenty of eligible knights at the upcoming tourney. Gwayne is going to be there, he is competing in the jousting.”

She scoffs, recalling the gangly boy of ten, a mop of hair the colour of rust, that they had left behind in Oldtown all those years ago. “Ah, yes, how fares your older brother?” She asks, turning her head to the side to look at her friend.

“He is a knight now,” Alicent says proudly, “and quite handsome too.”

“Handsome?! How would you know?”

“He tells me so in his letters.”

The pair burst into peals of laughter, stopping abruptly as Otto sweeps into the room, casting a disapproving glance at both of them. “Do the pair of you not have lessons to attend this afternoon?”

“We were waiting for Rhaenyra, so that we might all go together,” Alicent says apologetically, scrambling to her feet and smoothing the skirts of her dress down.

Lia rolls her eyes, knowing their fun is over and rises to her feet too, running her fingers through her dark curls, rumpled from having laid upon the floor.

“Well, the Small Council has concluded its business for the day, and with it Rhaenyra’s duties as cupbearer, so run along. Do not keep your septa waiting.”

“Yes, Father,” Alicent says quietly, making her way out of the solar.

Lia is about to follow suit, when Otto reaches out, softly grasping her forearm and halting her movements. “I trust you are behaving yourselves?”

“Always,” she says with a saccharine smile, moving to pull away from him.

He tightens his grasp. “The Princess is…spirited. Do not allow her to lead you or Alicent astray.”

She slips away from him, pausing once in the corridor to look back over her shoulder at him. “You have raised a well mannered young woman, Ser Otto. She will heed your wishes, I cannot say the same for myself.”

Full fic coming the beginning of September, otherwise you are free to beat me with your shoes.

#fire on the mountain #otto hightower x oc

49 notes · View notes

aftgficrec · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! Thank you so much for your work. I'm looking for long finished fics, it can be canon or not AND I'm also looking for fics focused on Kevin and Neil friendship

Recs with Kevin and Neil friendship will follow in a separate post.

Now to get nerdy. 🤓 In a previous ask for longer andreil fics, we linked the official AO3 tutorial for honing searches to find what you’re looking for. The key for finding long complete fics is a combination of word count and completion status.

“Complete Works Only” must be selected and the “Word Count” must be written as numerals with no commas.

So, for complete aftg fics that are more than 200k words:

Search AO3 for All For The Game - Nora Sakavic

Click Works

Go to the Sort and Filter menu on the right side of the screen

Look for the More Options header near the bottom

Click the arrow by Completion Status

Select Complete Works Only

Click the arrow by Word Count

Enter 2000000 in the From field

Click Sort and Filter

Current yield: 19 complete aftg fics over 200k words

For complete aftg fics that are between 100k and 200k words:

Repeat steps 1-7

Enter 100000 in the From field

Enter 200000 in the To field

Click Sort and Filter

Current yield: 54 complete aftg fics between 100k-200k words

Etcetera, etcetera. The real fun begins when you select the pairings and types of stories you want to read! Below you will find some specific long complete previous asks, and a handful of previously featured fics. -A

previous asks

long complete parental andreil here

long complete Raven!Neil here

long complete kandreil here (more of these sorted by length on ao3 here)

long complete post canon fics here

long andreil fics here (all completed)

staff top long post canon fics here

staff fave longer fics here and here

long fics for a return to fandom here (many are completed)

fluff

‘Pinch of Salt.’ here (51k)

canon universe

‘Dead Girl Walking’ (217k) here

‘A Falling Star’ series 245k here (updated)

dark/angsty

‘Armies’ 300k, ‘The Nameless Monster’ 118k, ‘I Spy a Broken Heart’ 205k (completed), ‘what it takes to survive’ 100k here

‘Not Damsels, not Knights’ 93k here

‘Joseph’ series 119k here

‘Red Rabbits’ series 729k here

action/adventure/fantasy/scifi

‘The Foxhole Force’ 245k (completed), ‘In Reel and Rout’ 91k here

‘Of Smoke & Bone’ 200k (completed) here

‘The Wonders I've Seen’ 158k, ‘if you get lost (you can always be found)’ 68k, ‘F.O.X.E.S. Division’ 270k here

‘The Odds Are Never In Our Favor’ 258k here

95 notes · View notes

thisisarcanereverie · 1 year ago

Text

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader) Part 2

A/N: This is Part 2 of a 3 Part fic. (Here is Part 1!) This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

For as long as you could remember you were not your own. Your name, your face, your mind, your body, even your own autonomy was not your own. It had always belonged to Dreykov and to his Red Room. Then, suddenly, the very color that controlled you, freed you. The red powder burned your eyes for a moment before suddenly it felt like you could breathe again.

It was strange how one’s life can completely turn on its head in a matter of moments.

One moment you were another Widow, easily expendable and replaced and the next you were…new. At least that’s what it felt like, you no longer existed at the whim of another. You weren’t a chess piece on the board, you were now a player.

You remembered the day the Red Room fell as the best day of your life.

There were so many things you could do, there were so many possibilities.

You just weren’t prepared for the reality of it.

That despite the mind control and the lack of autonomy, you still hurt people, at the end of the day it was your finger that pulled the trigger. You would wake in the middle of the night still haunted by those faces with a red mark between their eyes. It felt like you couldn’t escape from the Red Room you concocted in your mind, that no matter how hard you tried you will always be a Widow. So instead of fighting it, you gave in.

You had offers, from SHIELD to Tony Stark himself. Which surprised you, but in the end you decided you didn’t want the spotlight on you and were a merc for a while. It was gritty, but it was work you knew well. You thought you could do it but the first time you were ordered to kill you couldn’t. They were innocent, they were just there at the wrong time. So you killed your boss instead, grabbed what you could, and left. You made enemies that day, one that would love to see your head gifted to them on a silver plate.

You called Natasha after that, you weren’t sure what else to do. You didn’t know anyone else, you were completely alone. She gave you this guy's number, said that he would help you disappear and with whatever else you may need. You could feel her wink on the other end of the phone as you wrote down his information.

Since then you’ve been running, changing addresses and identities every couple of years to stay ahead of people who may want you dead. Her friend would give you new identities and you would exchange with money that you earned at jobs you would work. For a while you were content with being alone, working everyday and coming back to your place to eat food you previously were never able to eat and watching tv. Then you met Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley. Then suddenly you realized how gray your life had become, how long you had merely survived and what living actually meant—even if you were merely living a lie. All at once you were no longer alone, someone held you at night and kissed your blood-soaked hands.

For the first time in your life…you felt clean.

But that had all been a delusion.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You woke up in pain, your head throbbed and your limbs felt weighted down, as though someone had thrown two weighted blankets on top of you. You willed your eyes to open and was greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling. You squinted your eyes as you looked toward the open window, watched as the powder blue curtains danced gently as the breeze blew in. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep, last time you remember it was nighttime and….

Rain

Pinching

Jake.

You took a sharp breath in and shot up from the bed as your hand went to the side of your neck, Jake had drugged you–and from the look of things–abducted you as well. Why would he do this? Did he act alone or did Steven and Marc help him? All these questions swarmed your mind but one question stood out.

Have you been blind?

You shakily made your way to the open window, sure enough it was morning, and sure enough you weren’t in London. As far as you could tell you could be miles away from the nearest village let alone London. How long had they been planning this? To already have a second place squared away, ready, were you the first to be here or the latest addition.

“You’re up.”

You swerved your head as you looked beside you, your skin crawled and blood turned into ice as you looked at him. Upright posture, hair a little less unkempt, and a twinge of a chicago accent dripped in his voice.

Marc.

You opened your mouth to speak only for a small, pathetic squeak to sound instead of words. Your hand reached for your throat and realized for the first time how absolutely parched you were. Like you hadn’t had any water in days.

“Here,” he handed you a glass of water which you greedily accepted, you didn’t bother breathing as you chugged the glass he gave. After the soreness in your throat subsided a little and hummed to warm up vocal cords that had not been used in a while. You put the glass on the window sill and looked at him and at the tray he was previously holding. Turkey Bacon and Eggs, it was Marc's favorite breakfast, one he had made you dozens of times whenever he was sorry for something.

You were silent as you looked at him further, he wore sweatpants and a t- shirt, both clearly slept in. The tan of his skin glowed in the morning light and it looked like he ran his fingers through his dark curls once or twice. There was something unsettling about him though, one that made the hair on the back of your neck stand, something that wasn’t there before.

Those eyes.

You flinch a little as he raises a hand, only for him to retract it.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice uncharacteristically small. You debated on what to say, what was there to say? You had so many questions and yet you could not speak. You weren’t even sure if you were just dreaming, it almost seems like a dream. A house far away from everything and everyone, and your boys were right there with you bringing you breakfast in bed. You were partially worried that you would wake up and find yourself sleeping in a plane seat millions of miles away from them, but the other part of you worried that you would never wake up.

“How long?” you finally spoke, voice still hoarse. A moment of silence fell before he answered.

“I can’t tell you.” Marc says lowering his eyes, something he does when he has something to hide.

“Did Steven or Jake tell you that,” You fidgeted with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Neither.”

“You have to let me go,” You finally said, voice getting a little less hoarse the more you speak. “Please.”

“Stop,” He said looking at you finally with a hard look in his eyes, “Stop saying you have to leave. You don’t need to leave.”

“Yes I do,” you emphasized, you held his face in order to hold his gaze, “there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, things that I’ve lied about. That person you fell in love with isn’t me, I’ve done horrible things-”

“I know-”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes,” he said, grabbing your wrist with an intense look in his eyes, “I do.”

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on you and stuck a fork in an outlet all at the same time. There was no way he could know, at least, not everything.

“I know that you used to be a Black Widow,” he said, taking a step towards you, the grip on your wrist tightening, “you’ve killed, lied, and stole from many people including me.” his nose brushed with yours as you tried to steady your breathing.

“How could you know all that?” You asked, whispered, your mind was pounding in time with your heart as he leaned closer to your ear.

“I also know you used to be a mercenary,” you heard him whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting over the goosebumps that formed on your skin, “that’s how we met.” you stopped breathing as he leaned slightly away from you, far enough for you to look him in the eyes. Dark eyes that held the sun in them.

Oh.

The last job you went on you worked with a team, you never saw his face and he was never much of a talker. You just remember his eyes as he held a gun to you ready to shoot…only to lower the gun and let you get away.

That had been Marc.

Without a second thought you ripped your wrist from his grip and grabbed the glass laying on the nightstand throwing it at him. Your heart pounded as you made your way through the open door, sure to close and block it before he had time to reach it. You were sure by now you were on the verge of a heart attack with how loudly your heart was pounding. You could hear Marc on the other side banging the door with his fists. You had no plan, your heart was breaking all over again and your entire body has gone into a fight and flight zone. You made your way down the wooden stairs skipping every other step, unafraid of the small fall you have on the last step before you regained balance and ran straight through the front door. Even from outside you can still hear him banging and screaming, you tried to decide where the best place to run to when the banging stopped. It wasn’t in Marc's nature to give up so you look behind you, he wasn’t coming down the stairs either. What the hell?

Then you heard a familiar grunt and footsteps above you.

The open window.

All at once it didn’t matter where you ran to as long as you ran. Your feet carried you swiftly into the tree lining of the woods surrounding the house. The adrenaline coursing through your veins hid the pain of the cuts and barbs that scratched you as you pushed them aside. Your goal was to run, or to find a pointy enough stick or a sharp enough stone to throw at him, but mainly run and hide.

You weren’t sure how long you ran, all you knew was that your lungs were on fire and you couldn’t feel your limbs. You knew you couldn’t run much further, at least, not at full speed. So you went to the nearest, sturdy tree you could find and climbed, you grabbed one branch after another. The bark dug into sensitive parts of your hand but you didn’t care, you could see your arms shaking as they pulled you up to that final branch. It seemed strong enough to hold your weight and shielded enough to provide cover.

One of the things the Red Room taught you was to assess weakness and who had the advantage. Marc had the advantage when it came to muscle mass, but you had experience–granted those were mainly espionage missions that required more brains than combat prowess. You always carried a gun on you, but if he was smart (which you know he is) he took that away and was carrying it with him now.

All this time, you thought he loved you and that you were protecting him. You never even suspected the truth, he seemed so familiar and you had that gut instinct that something was up but you ignored it. All this time everything had been a lie, he didn’t love you, he was finishing the job. How long did he have his eye on you before he made a move?

Stop! You didn’t have time to mourn, you had to focus on surviving.

You halted your greedy intakes of air as you heard rustling in the leaves. Careful not to make the slightest sound as you saw him run past, calling your name. You waited until you slowly couldn’t hear the crackling of the leaves before beginning your descent. Time was of the essence, at some point Marc will come back to retrace steps, so you had to make another break in a different direction he had gone. Maybe back to the house and hotwire the beat up jeep you saw in the driveway. Once there you would make it to the second nearest village because the nearest would be the first place he’ll look, use one of those grimy old payphones to call in your ID guy.

Your feet had barely touched the ground before you felt the wind being knocked out of you as you tackled the ground. You were pinned before you could push Marc off of you, unable to do much but struggle in his grip.

“Do it,” you growled while still fighting, “I’m not going to stop fighting but if you’re going to do it, do it now.”

“Do what now?!” His eyes wide and intense, his grip becoming tighter on your wrists again.

“Kill me!” You yell, “that’s what all this has been for, hasn’t it? I killed your boss and stole a lot of money and relics from the people who hired us. A lot of different people want me dead, a lot of powerful people who can make things happen want me dead for more than this. Once you kill me you’ll have your pick of the litter. Whatever you want.” You see his brows furrow as you feel his breath ghost over your lips.

“Have you ever thought that maybe what I wanted was you?” He pecked your lips once before continuing, “that I intended to keep you for myself rather than sell you to the highest bidder.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Cause I love you,” Marc said, pinning your hands above your head with one hand while the other caressed your cheek, “I have since we met on those desolate dunes, that has never been a lie.” you can feel his heartbeat as he lays his weight down on top of you, like so many times before, as his words swirl around your head. Your first thought was that he was lying, how could he not be? Deep down, however, as you looked him in the eyes you were reminded that Marc was many things–but a good liar was not one of them.

“You can love me,” you say, “and still betray me.” you hear him let out a frustrated groan as he drops his head to your shoulder. You can feel his grip tighten before he lets your wrist go, and his weight on you is gone leaving you strangely cold. For a moment you think he’s letting you go, a foolish thought, one full of hope.

You were wrong.

No sooner had you gotten off the ground yourself, your feet were dangling above the ground as you were swung over his shoulder like you weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Had this been ANY different situation your knees would be weak for a different reason.

Once again you fought, kicking and screaming. He wasn’t going to kill you, not yet, but you were honest when you said you weren’t going down without a fight. You didn’t even register entering the house until he sat you on the couch with an unceremonious plop, his hands gripping your shoulders and a frustrated look in his eye.

“What is it going to take to get you to believe me?” He said, voice low edging on a growl.

“Give me one good reason to believe that you wouldn’t give me up.” You said, eyes narrowing, “a reason that I would believe.'' There was a beat of silence, you see his brows furrowed together as his brain itches for an answer that you know he wouldn’t have. He has betrayed you and has all the reasons in the world to sacrifice you to the altar.

Then the lights starting flickering,

The hairs on your neck stood on end as you felt a shift in the air, the lights flickering and a hum of something else. Something you’ve never encountered before. Then you see the bandages wrapping themselves around Marc like snakes and his eyes were no longer the dark color you used to adore. They glowed now like moonlight reflecting off of water.

Of course.

You’ve seen the small articles in the paper passing by or clickbait news in the media about London’s vigilante who called themselves Moon Knight. You usually never paid much attention to it, you rarely were out past dark anyway why would you? Maybe you should’ve.

“If I wanted anything that they have,” You hear him say as the mask unbound itself to reveal his face, “I would’ve just taken it, and they couldn’t have stopped me.”

“You’re moon knight.” Of course the first person you fall in love with is not only a mercenary, but also a superpowered vigilante. Your life hasn’t been ordinary, why would your love life be?! You groaned in frustration as you leaned your head back against the couch, “well that explains why you always look exhausted and always came back home at weird hours.”

“You knew about that?” He asked, you gave him a deadpan look, “...of course you did.” You look at him for a moment and replayed every moment in your head leading up to this, he had a point. With these powers he really could have walked into any place, taken what he wanted, and left. He wouldn’t have needed you, but why keep you?

“Ok,” you start, “so you don’t intend to sell me or kill me or whatever.”

“I’ve been telling yo-”

“But why keep me?” You ask, “Why bring me here? Based on this house and location it is-”

“Everything you ever wanted.” Marc finished, his grip softening on your shoulders, “a small house with a sunroom, far away from everyone, a place to plant flowers and a lot more sun than what you got in the city…A home.”

“This would’ve taken at least half a year to build,” you say, “and another few weeks to a month to draft up the plans. So that means that you have been planning on bringing me here since-”

“Since fate decided to give us a second chance,” he said, “I couldn’t follow you before and lost you, trust me I tried to follow you but you were so damn good at running and hiding that I couldn’t find you. Then, one day, I see you on the bus. I was a fly on the wall, Steven was in charge, but I saw you. You have no idea how badly I wanted to talk to you, but seeing how you fled before, I knew I had to be patient. I told Steven everyday to talk to you, building him up until he eventually sat next to you.” You see him laugh a little, “I really shouldn’t have kept him up the night before, but it all turned out alright.”

He was sick, you knew this from the beginning, you just never looked below the surface of it. He needed help, something you couldn’t give him here.

“Baby,” You said softly, holding his hands as he knelt down in front of you, kissing the tops of his still bandaged covered hands, before leaning your forehead against his, you had to be calm. You had to convince him with honey and not vinegar. “Thank you so much for doing this, it must have been so much work.” You start, lowering your voice to barely a whisper, already sensing the tension leaving his body, “you must be so tired.”

“I am.”

“I’m just worried for you,” you said brushing your nose against his, “maybe we should see someone hmm? Like a specialist or a doctor, get you some melatonin or some medicine to help you sleep.” You feel him shake his head before you gently shush him, bringing a hand to cup his stubbly cheek, “just to help you sleep.”

“I don’t need them.” He says definitely, “I have you.”

“And you’ll always have me.” You promise, “let’s just call and make the appointment, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help.”

“No,” he mumbles quietly at first, “no” a little louder, “I don’t-”

“Do it for me?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and giving him a small smile, “please baby.” gently moving your hand to scratch the nape of his neck you knew he was putty.

“Ok,” he agrees.

“Ok,” you quietly repeat, trying to keep your tone even, “how about we call them right now and make an appointment?”

“No.”

“Ok,” you say, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his neck, “we don’t need to call them right now but in a short bit here, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You breathe in, “yeah.”

179 notes · View notes

meadowlarkx · 7 months ago

Text

Some March fic recs!

For Tolkien Fanfic Reading Month! Limiting myself to stories I read in March (but posted anytime). (header by Anna Zakharova on Unsplash)

picnic by @swanmaids - A bored and reckless Aredhel goes to Vána's orchards seeking adventure and has an experience. This lush and sexy fic feels like a warm summer afternoon. I love how seductive and eerie Vána is here!

Kiss and Marry by @thecoolblackwaves - Have you ever looked at Celegorm and Curufin and thought, "They should be the stars of a romcom"? No? This fic is here to reveal that wonder to you.

弄假成真 by Divano_Messiah - Maglor has been telling people at school that he has a boyfriend. Maedhros is jealous until he learns who it is. (I admit I read this via google translate, you can too...)

Envy by @polutrope - In Tirion, Maglor and Elemmírë struggle to handle each other's reputations with equanimity. The people around them try to respond. This fic is so funny and sweet--I love this take on Elemmírë and Fëanor's guest appearance is hilariously him.

Youthful Regrets by kitkatkaylie - Turgon and Maglor fall in love in Valinor before Turgon's engagement to Elenwë. I really like the personality contrasts of this ship, with Turgon opening up to Maglor, and how this story sketches out their relationship through the whole arc of Silm to its bitter separation.

I risk my life to make my name by @maironsbigboobs - The brave knight Galadriel goes on a journey to meet the Green Woman Melian and her fate, ft. adventures along the way. I love how Tolkien is blended with Arthurian conventions here--it works so well and brings out the myth vibes of Silm that I love so much!

Strange Currencies chapter 12 by @jouissants - This is such a beautifully-crafted tale in every regard, but I want to especially mention this flashback chapter I read in March, covering Maedhros' and Maglor's voyage on the swan ships up to just before Fëanor's death. The horror of the Fëanorian Noldor arriving in the dark with their distrust, inflated ego, and total lack of knowledge of Middle-earth comes through here so, so vividly--this part can be read by itself, go check it out!!

Oubliette by Stramonium - Horrifying and so vividly written scene of Maedhros in Angband, isolation, and monstrosity. Poetic and awful, I can't do it justice in summarizing it.

arrangement for flute and harp by @jouissants - Maedhros is determined to work late, so Maglor and Fingon decide to entertain each other. The Himring atmosphere and incredible character dynamics make this also really sexy smut such a wonderful story.

whatever you would crave by @eight-pointed-star - Sooo sexy ficlet in which Fingon and Maedhros attend to Maglor's Needs. Short but immensely powerful.

scherzo for ink and parchment by @dovewifes - Charming and comedic missives exchanged between Maedhros and Maglor during the Long Peace, ft. romantic endearments and the invention of emojis. Maedhros' so-apparent love for Maglor is something I especially cherish about this fun fic.

Star-kissed by @aipilosse - Celeborn of Doriath rescues recently-of-Gondolin (and silver-haired!) Celebrimbor from a predicament in Nan Dungortheb. Incredibly clever, funny, and hot!

Purification by @zealouswerewolfcollector - Thingol is curious about Maedhros: throne sex ensues. A favorite ship of mine in a flavor I'd never considered. Incredibly intense and super well-written.

Comfort from a Heavy Hand by @undercat-overdog - After the Bragollach, Mablung tends to an injured Beleg, and they seek comfort together. The wreckage and destruction of the battle feels so vivid in this one, and the dynamic of Beleg/Mablung as past teacher and student (and current battle companions) is wonderful.

Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow by @welcomingdisaster - A brilliant installment in an ongoing Children of Húrin AU series that has the most beautiful, unsettling, and dreamlike atmosphere. In this fic Maedhros teaches "Cáno" about pleasure in preparation for their marriage bed. Catnip to me personally!!

Proxy by @aipilosse - Celebrimbor comes to reproach Celegorm in Nargothrond after Finrod's departure. They fuck. Gender, tension, messy and complicated emotional dynamics all around. The dirty talk is so so good.

Star of the Nevrast Shore by joanofarcstan - Silmarillion filk of one of my favorite folk songs! What more is there to say!! A sweet tale of Gondolin told from Voronwë's point of view, recounting the love between him, Tuor (the star of the Nevrast shore), Idril, and Maeglin.

A Light Burns in the Forest by fictional_hr_department - Thranduil and Oropher escape Menegroth with child Elwing. The title and art by @lycheesodas give me chills and the atmosphere of the fic as they make their disorienting journey to Sirion really brings to life the terrible aftermath of the second kinslaying.

By Your Side by HiyoriTomioka - fem!Eärendil and Elwing support each other in this ficlet... such a good vision of this ship, and the way Eärendil thinks about Tuor and Idril here with longing uncertainty makes me think of a trans!Eärendil even though that is not explicit.

Something Sleepless in Mirkwood by @imakemywings - Thranduil sickens as the Greenwood does. Elrond tries to heal him, but can't understand at first what's happening. Brilliant and canon-compliant (To Me) wry, proud, and eerie woodland king Thranduil--go give this a read!

A boat, my boat, out upon the River by Tethys_resort - Sméagol is trying to craft his own boat to take fishing. His family keeps getting in the way. This sweet fic paints such an idyllic picture of proto-Hobbit life and made me really feel the tragedy of Gollum.

The Fortress by TheLegendCreator - Brief and haunting fic in which a Dwarf visits the ruins of Himring and they have a conversation. I love the view this offers of Maedhros and the fierce loyalty Himring and its folk had for him.

one whole with my other by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor - Indis' marriage to Finwë is transferred to bind her instead to reembodied Míriel. This turns out to be a good thing. An incredibly touching, beautifully wrought and worldbuilt story. I just love it so much.

The Number One Exercise for Relieving Work-Related Stress (Click to Find Out!) by @imakemywings - Date night in Mirkwood. Maglor (Noldorin princess, ex-kinslayer) adorns herself for the benefit of Thranduil (the Elvenqueen)--or that's her plan, anyway. This story is so sexy, so funny, and honestly so touching. I just adore this ship as a happy ending for Maglor and their relationship is gorgeously fleshed out here.

Cousin, Sister, Lover, Queen by broken_pencils - Lesbian Éowyn discovers desire... through Éomer's betrothed Lothíriel. Lothíriel is a stealth fav for me from the Éomer fics I used to read as a kid and I really enjoyed her here, and the lush atmosphere of this story.

His Return by @danmeiljie - Beautiful, tender scene of Maedhros and Maglor reuniting as per @tari-cua's art. Such lovely descriptions in this one and so cozy.

#did i try to put these in like silm plot chronological order? Just a little bit #tolkien fanfic reading month #silmarillion fic #my posts #I read chaotically and then sort of fell off the map as life became crazy. but i wanted to highlight these fics i enjoyed!!

42 notes · View notes