#admirablemonster

[fellowshipofthefics]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

The Boy King of Doriath

AdmirableMonster (Mertiya), Passion_Fruit_Headquarters

Summary:

Dior Eluchíl has been dead a long time, and he has spent the entirety of it running from Námo, who is still trying to force him to accept the Gift of Men. A chance encounter with one of his greatest foes may represent just the chance of escape he needs.

[arofili]

Stay

for @admirablemonster & Kinktober Day 29: Aftercare!

[ao3] - rated T; 752 words; t4t4t Maeglin/Húrin/Morwen

~

“My raven beauties,” Húrin sighed, pressing gentle kisses to first Morwen’s brow, then Maeglin’s. “So good to me, so kind...” 

Morwen grunted, shoving him away. “Space,” she said shortly, and Húrin leaned back at once. He was cuddly after sex, but his wife was not at all, Maeglin had come to learn. Morwen slipped out of the bed, shrugged on her nightgown, and went to lean out the window, the cold night air refreshing her.

Maeglin, meanwhile, was glad to have Húrin’s warmth so near to him. Coming down from the high of his climax left him shaky and empty, fearful of being pushed away, and Húrin pulling him close comforted him the way Morwen’s space did for her.

Maeglin blinked back sudden tears. He knew with a sudden, aching certainty that this time, Húrin’s arms would not be enough. For tomorrow he must leave, and return to Gondolin, and he never knew if he would be able to find his way back to Dor-lómin again.

“Lómion,” Húrin murmured, running his hands through Maeglin’s hair. “What ails thee? Let me comfort thy heart, my nightingale.”

Maeglin shook his head. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “Only—only the usual...” He took a shaky breath. “I must depart, and soon.”

“Stay,” Morwen said in her abruptly sincere way. She sat on the edge of the bed now, looking at them with fondness.

“I cannot...”

“Lómion,” Húrin said, and took his hands. “Please. Stay with us.” He looked to his wife, and they exchanged a secret smile. “For the sake of the child, if not only us.”

Maeglin froze. “The—what?”

Húrin guided their hands to his belly. “I missed my cycle,” he confided, golden joy beaming from his smile. “Morwen and I will have a child!”

Maeglin buried his face in Húrin’s mane of yellow hair. He knew how much his lovers wanted this, and it scared him. Maeglin himself found the concept of pregnancy horrifying, a reminder of what his father had forced upon his mother (and oh, it would have been better for everyone if he had not, if Maeglin had never come to be—) and indeed he had been reluctant to lie with Morwen for fear of this very thing.

But it was Húrin who carried this child, not him. Not Maeglin. And that meant the babe would be fully mortal, fully out of his reach. They would be free from his dark legacy, uncursed by the shadow of Nan Elmoth and unburdened by the Doom of the Noldor.

“Congratulations,” he rasped. “But—this is all the more reason I must leave. It is bad enough I have tainted you with my darkness—”

“Maeglin, shut up,” Morwen snapped. She reached to tug his chin up, meeting her intense glare for the briefest of moments. She did not like to make eye contact, but when she did, it was like she stared deep into your soul. Even Maeglin, he of the sharp glance, was left unnerved by the presence of her spirit.

“We want you here, with us,” Húrin insisted. “With our child. They can be your child, also, Lómion.”

Maeglin shuddered. “No—never! I could not damn an innocent soul like that, nor mar your family’s future—”

Húrin kissed him into silence. “Lómion, hush,” he scolded. “This is why you must stay—each time you leave, I fear you will not return...”

Maeglin let out a sob. “It’s not fair,” he whined, and didn’t know who or what he was lamenting. “It’s not...”

“Please, Maeglin,” Morwen said, shifting closer to them both, but keeping a healthy distance around herself. “I have seen death and fire. We both know the dangers. We still want you with us, no matter your Doom.”

“I must return to my uncle,” Maeglin whispered. “If I am gone too long—if he discovers I have passed outside the bounds he set for me...”

“Lómion...”

“But—I will try to return.” Maeglin swallowed, and then pressed a kiss to Húrin’s lips. He felt Morwen’s hand on his shoulder, steadying him. “I promise. I will make my excuses, and come back to your child. I swear it.”

“Ai, Lómion!” Húrin cried, beaming, and another piece of Maeglin’s heart broke.

He did not lie—he would try. But foresight lay upon him, and he felt in his fëa that he would fail, that this would be the last night he spent with his lovers.

And from the dark, weary look in Morwen’s eyes, he thought she felt it too.

[polutrope]

daeron x amras, pursuit?

“You know, you are better than my brother,” Amras said, leaning against the doorframe of the Sindarin minstrel’s cabin to steady himself as he felt the heaviness of the wine swirling around in his brain.

Daeron startled at the unexpected visitor and spun to face him; seeing who it was, he set down his lute with an exasperated sigh and turned aside. “Please cease your provocations, Fëanorion, I am not in the mood for being mocked – or for any conversation at all, for that matter.”

“Funny you should say that – ‘provocations’,” Amras hiccuped, showing himself through the door and looking around the room, “that song you played, about the stag pursuing the deer through the woods, was it supposed to be, uh, a metaphor?”

“It’s about mating, if that’s what you are asking,” Daeron arched his eyebrows, “and it’s just about that, not a metaphor for anything.”

“Hm, well, your music is very… evocative.” Amras sat himself down on the bed. “Would you play it again?”

Prompts collection on AO3

[arofili]

On Thin Ice

part of the world as we know it [College AU]

A trip to Fingon's childhood home brings back some unexpectedly distressing memories.

for AdmirableMonster (Mertiya) <3

Rating: T | No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Anairë Word count: 1.9k

READ IT ON AO3!

[arofili]

A Brighter Future

Findekáno discovers new things about Russandol, the world at large, and himself. But mostly about Russandol.

a treat for AdmirableMonster (Mertiya) as part of the @innumerable-stars​ 2020 exchange!

Rating: E | No Archive Warnings Apply [BUT check notes for warnings] Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon Characters: trans!Maedhros, Fingon Word count: 5.5k

READ IT ON AO3!

[stormxpadme]

can I possibly get Tarisilya x Arwen + 25?

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

They’d honestly planned to be back from their ride before the dark grey clouds in the sky would unload on them, but spring in Imladris was moody. They’d only just released their horses onto the paddock when the first drops fell, and by the time they reached the tack room, chuckling and ranting, their clothes were soaked through.

That did not only leave Tarisilya with a ruined riding dress and the considerable task of getting out of these damn leather boots without having to cut them open, but also with the unexpected sight of a see-through, snow-white tunic on her friend’s upper body. The quickly waning evening light, fortunately, was hiding her blush as she was faced with an image that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, while Arwen stretched to hang her mare’s saddle on a free beam and shook herself a little then, trying to get the rain out of her jet-black hair.

Suddenly Tarisislya felt 350 again, visiting this beloved valley for another summer far from her father’s over-protectiveness, meeting her hosts children for the first time and finding herself strangely bedazzled by the elf world’s legendary Evenstar. Admiring this beautiful thick hair, a tall, shapely silhouette longingly from behind, enchanted by the other she-elf’s beautiful, good-natured laugh ... Confused and almost feeling ashamed, for Arwen was a goddess, and Tarisilya had been promised for more than one century; her thoughts should not go astray.

Only the one elf she had given that promise to hadn’t shown up at her doorstep almost just as long, and at this point she seriously had to doubt, he ever would. And the last spectacularly failed attempt at giving romance a new shot a few decades ago had apparently not been enough of a warning for her still so unbridled feelings.

“Ilya. You’re staring.” Arwen didn’t sound offended, only a little amused, an expression that turned into a tender smile when Tarisilya’s face flushed even deeper and she turned to the wall quickly, crossing her arms in front of her own wet dress.

A shiver not coming from the rain on her skin ran down her back when a silken-soft hand gently undid her messy braid and smoothed out her hair down her back, combing through it maybe a little too thoroughly. “I see you took my advice about the rose hips. It’s grown a lot since I last saw you.”

Tarisilya shrugged and sighed and turned around, if only to escape that almost too close touch that had her feel hot and cold in turn and made her breath race almost worse than her thoughts. “It’s still such a boring color though. It’s hard not to fail measuring up to your company when you have to dine with Lady Galadriel every other week.”

“You don’t need to be like anyone else, Ilya.” Arwen’s hands softly closed around her face, circling fingertips wiping away the dampness there. “You’re enough just the way you are. Why do you think I rather spend my time with you than with all the other suitors trying to get my attention?”

“I am not a suitor,” Ilya protested weakly, but given that she just couldn’t keep herself from blushing and her heart was pounding loud enough in her ears for both of them to hear, she suddenly wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

“No,” Arwen agreed calmly. “If you were, this wouldn’t be any fun.” And suddenly, those beautiful, full lips were far too close to Tarisilya’s. “I really want to know how this feels. Don’t you?” Close ... not close enough. Unlike the last elf who had tried something like this, Arwen wasn’t about to cross a line that Tarisilya had been holding so firmly all her life.

Maybe that was why she suddenly felt very much like kissing one of her best friends, and why it didn’t feel wrong at all. The only pain remaining was the ever-lasting yearning for something else, something she might never have. Maybe this, finally, whatever it was, could seal that wound ...

But what if not?

“Ada always says, your first kiss should be really special,” she murmured at last, because Arwen was still waiting patiently, an excited, slightly nervous glistening in her deep blue eyes herself.

“You are special,” Arwen repeated, and Tarisilya thought, maybe she could actually believe her. “Something can only be wrong when you regret it. I don’t plan to regret this. Do you?”

Tarisilya wasn’t finished shaking her head yet when Arwen lowered her head and put her lips on hers. And suddenly all the heartbreak and the self-doubt of her youth felt a million years away.

By the time they finally left the tack room, their clothes were dry again, and the sky had cleared up. The summer couldn’t have started any better.

[jockbots]

tagged by @admirablemonster c:

ensemble cast or just a few characters / cat sized dragons or dragons as big as the hills / chosen one (but its all a lie [:<) or no way i hate it / impending end of the world or smaller personal stakes /historical vampires or fantasy pirates / dark academia or light academia / magic banned or magic loved / reclusive hermit or bog witch /traversing the world or contained setting / soft confessions or grand declarations / nature or architecture/ angst or fluff / friends-to-lovers or enemies-to-lovers/foes-to-friends or friends-to-foes / himbos or nerds/ intense world building or easy please / gigantic trees or impossible towers / fairytale retelling or mythology retelling

tagging w/no pressure @mirillel @arofili @theelfmaiden @akisawana @ashipfullofwindows and anyone that wants to participate I'm nosie and curious i wanna see 👀

[effervescentdragon]

fmk mairon, maeglin, tyelpe

Love!! ❤❤❤ first of all i love you, there is no second, thats the first and all.

Okay so listen, the only way that this plays out well in my favor is this way:

If i want to do anything, and i mean anything with tyelpe at all, i need to kill mairon, because he would and coyld definitely cut this bitch (and any other bitch) if i touched tyelpe while he was alive. So i kill mairon, im so sorry, but i fought to live way too fucking hard to have a dramatic diva (whomst i love) cut me down when i havent even jumped off a plane nor learned to drive a car. (Interestingly enough im doing both those things in summer so ask me again in september.)

Now, whomst to fuck and whomst to live in a sexless marriage with? Okay when i put it that way, i fuck maeglin bcs living with him and his emo meow meow daddy AND mommy issues is something i legit have no energy for, and tyelpe is at least obsessed abt his craft enough to leave me the fuck alone when i need it, also we can bond about paternal trauma, so i marry him i guess? I get pretty jewelry anyways 😊