#magicinavalon

[queerofthedagger]

Monaaaaa 👀 number 26 for the kiss prompts with curufinrod please

Thank you bestieee, some hurt/comfort/homo-erotic wound-tending just for you mwah <3

like thunder in the stillness

[Curufin/Finrod | T+ | 4,7k | ao3]

Finrod gets hurt. Curufin does what he must.

Finrod knows from the very start that it is a stupid idea.

Leaving the safety of Nargothrond’s walls is never wise, these days. It is considerably less so on his own, no matter how unadorned his cloak, how well it blends into the surrounding landscape, how swift his horse.

He only needs a few hours, though. An afternoon of crisp autumn air, of silence, of peace and quiet. Of distance between himself and his sharp-eyed cousin, between the thrill that runs down Finrod’s spine at the sight of him and the way Curufin seems to make a challenge of provoking it.

Only a few hours, but such desires are bold in this land nowadays. Inevitably, predictably, Finrod pays the price for his foolishness.

The Orcs come out of nowhere, dozens of them, having him surrounded before Finrod is done pulling his sword. The scene doubles, throws him back in time until the land around him smells of smoke and he is surrounded by a different company, is saved by someone who looks like Bëor but is not him.

Finrod shakes himself and lets his horse leap forward, cutting down the Orcs that have dared to push close. Their companions cheer, mocking, knowing that no matter what he does, Finrod is theirs already.

No one is coming this time, Finrod knows it deep in his bones. He had been a fool to leave, had been told so in flaying words by Curufin, and now he will pay the price for it.

He sinks his blade into the unguarded stretch between the helmet and pauldron of yet another Orc, and barely manages to twist out of the way of a mace coming his way. He wonders if Curufin will be pleased to be proven right and almost loses his balance as his horse stumbles, catching herself at the last moment.

For every Orc he fells, three more seem to appear, and Finrod snarls as desperation mounts within him. They are grabbing at him, crowding close, and he knows it will not be long until his horse baulks or falls. Until he falls, and Finrod knows, too—he knows that he will die here if he is lucky. It does not mean that he wants this to be the end.

And so he holds on; raises his voice in song the way Maglor does sometimes, letting go of ideas about honour and fairness, and starts to fight to survive. To return to Nargothrond if only to tell his thrice-damned cousin that he was wrong.

The Orcs fall around him. Still, it is not enough. When the first black arrow whizzes past Finrod’s ear, he knows that it will be over within moments.

The next arrow hits its mark, a sharp point of pain bursting through his shoulder. He wavers on his horse, grits his teeth. Plunges his sword into yet another Orc and tells himself that if he is to go down like this, he will take as many of them with him as he can. Will make sure that he dies here before they realise who he is, distant memories of Maedhros’ mangled body itching at the back of his mind.

The resignation is not unfamiliar, and yet it remains a strange thing, a haze that envelops his mind and allows him to fall into the brutal rhythm of battle. Into focusing only on that which is before him and ignoring everything else—the growing scratch in his throat from using Song for what it was never meant to do. The taste of blood in his mouth.

Later, this is what he will blame it on that it takes him so long to notice the answering hymn of rage, the sudden unease among the Orcs. He does not notice that they fall more swiftly than they should; that they turn and flee, their company scattering with warnings of a trap, of more Elves to come, of this not being as easy a taking as they expected.

Finrod’s horse stumbles, then goes down. He still expects to be skewered the moment he lands, and screams at the pain that ricochets through him at the impact. The expected blow does not come.

He stares at the grey-blue sky above him, the colourful way and dance of the trees. It is the first time that he consciously notes the silence—or at least he does once the pain ebbs down a little, allowing him to catch his breath.

“Findaráto.”

“Oh,” Finrod says, blinking as Curufin appears in his field of vision. “I am hallucinating. That makes sense.”

It is almost a relief, the idea that he may simply be dead already, and he exhales with it.

Pain laces through him anew, making him arch.

Not dead, then.

“You are not,” Curufin says, his voice harsh even as he kneels gracefully beside Finrod. “But I dare say you will soon wish that you were.”

In the corner of his vision, Finrod can see the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. He tries for a smile. “Because you are going to tell me that you told me so?”

“Yes,” Curufin snaps, some of his cold mask cracking for a split-second. “And because there is no way that you will make it back to Nargothrond like this, and I am, infamously, no healer.”

“Should have brought your brother,” Finrod says, but he fails at the levity he was aiming for. Curufin’s brow ticking up is proof enough of it.

“You should not have left on your own in the first place,” he counters, but it lacks his usual bite.

Beneath Finrod, the ground is very cold, even through his leathers. He watches as Curufin inspects the buckles; tests how firm the material is.

“We will have to cut the arrow off first. I cannot get you out of this without potentially making it worse, and I need to stem the blood once I do that. Not to mention that while these leathers might let an arrow through, I doubt they will let it out. You truly are a fool, Ingoldo, what were you thinking—“

Finrod lifts his hand—the left one, where the entire arm is not burning yet—and wraps it around Curufin’s wrist, finding warm skin. Curufin snaps his mouth shut, glaring down at Finrod, and for long moments, they merely look at each other.

Something passes between them that Finrod knows the shape of, and still does not dare put a name to.

He pulls his hand away. “How did you know how to find me?”

Curufin purses his lips and says nothing.

Foresight, then. Curufin has it, every once in a while; even though he never admits it, Finrod knows how to recognise the signs.

He wonders just how much Curufin sees. What he knows of his own end, of those of his brothers, his son. Of Finrod’s. If he wonders, too, whether they are helpless against their doom, or if banishing it to the shadows, looking ahead, pretending that it does not linger, wait, breathe down their necks, may mean that they can yet escape it.

Curufin, as usual, offers him no answer. He has stopped prodding at Finrod and is looking around, taking in the clearing, the felled Orcs, the falling dusk.

“We need to make camp,” he says. “We cannot return to Nargothrond tonight, and aside from this place not being safe, I refuse to spend the night in the company of rotting Orcs. There is a ravine not far from here; it should do for the night. How are you feeling?”

As if he had tried to wrestle Tulkas and lost, Finrod does not say. He lets his gaze run through the clearing and finds both their horses standing off to the side, watching with eyes attentive in the way that only those bred by Fingon are.

“I am not sure I can make it far,” he says, and Curufin scoffs.

“I am not expecting you to ride, you fool. I will cut the arrow, and you will rest for a moment. We will make our way over, I will make camp, then we pull the bloody thing out and—and take care of the wound.”

There is something he is not saying, they both know it. You cannot pull out an arrow and take care of the wound with nothing but whatever small healing kit Curufin brought.

Finrod does not have it within him to argue. Finds, to less surprise than he ought, that he trusts Curufin. At least with this.

He gives a sharp nod and gestures as if to say get on with it, then. He is immediately punished for it when the movement aggravates his shoulder.

It is more telling than anything else so far has been, that Curufin does not remark on this. He merely lays his left hand on Finrod’s chest, a firm weight; slides it up until he can splay his fingers around the arrow, and then looks Finrod in the eye.

“Bite down on your bracer,” he says. He does not apologise, but then, Finrod is almost grateful that he does not.

He does not tell Finrod to brace himself either. He grips the arrow firmly and keeps Finrod still when he jerks. Brings up his knife and snaps the arrow with one quick cut that reverberates through Finrod’s bones, until he is shaking with the suppressed urge to scream.

When he lets go of his bracer moments or an eternity later, there are tooth marks deep in the leather of it.

Curufin is looking at him, his eyes dark. His hand still rests on Finrod’s chest, a reassuring weight; Finrod’s own hand has clenched into the fabric of the red cloak, he realises, keeping Curufin close.

Again, they hover there. The pain is too much to think about the weight of it, but beneath it, Finrod notes it, turns it, prods at it like a wound that refuses to scab over.

Around them, the forest is quiet. Eventually, Curufin sighs almost inaudibly and moves away.

“Here, come,” he says, offering Finrod a hand. The pain has just receded enough that Finrod no longer feels like he is going to throw up, but he nods and takes the offered hand.

Curufin is clinical about it when he helps Finrod sit. When he waits for Finrod to catch his breath and then pulls him up in one quick, strong move that makes Finrod bite down on his tongue until he tastes blood.

Curufin does him the favour of not commenting on his swaying, but he does not let go either. Wraps an arm around Finrod’s waist, and lets Finrod sling his good arm around his shoulders in return.

If Galadriel could see him now, she would laugh, Finrod thinks, and then banishes the image. He will be lucky if he sees his sister again at all.

They make their way out of the clearing slowly. Each step is agonising, every light disturbance and movement aggravating the wound. Finrod grits his teeth and keeps walking.

Curufin looks straight ahead, but through the leathers, Finrod can feel his fingers flexing against his hip again and again. He tries to focus on that, on Curufin’s warmth beside him, the scent of fire and metal, like lightning during summer storms.

It helps more than it has any right to, and Finrod does not have the strength left to recall all the reasons for why this is so. For why he should not indulge in the idea that it may ever mean comfort, rather than warning.

By the time they reach the ravine that Curufin has been talking about, Finrod is shivering, his temples and neck damp with sweat. Still, he waits when Curufin tells him to, leaning against the towering cliff that grows into the sky on one side of the narrow ravine.

He watches as Curufin grabs a bedroll off his horse and stretches it out in the small space that is sheltered from the wind, and then comes back to him, wordlessly gesturing for Finrod to lean back on him.

Sitting down makes him want to scream all over, and Curufin allows him to breathe a few times before he moves away again. He collects wood with quick, methodical movements, and it sparks to life beneath his fingertips as if it were just waiting for him to ask.

Still not speaking, Curufin kneels before him once more. He meets Finrod’s eyes in question, and when he finds no refusal, he starts on the buckles and ties of Finrod’s leathers.

Finrod looks at him up close, long shadows of his lashes across sharp cheekbones, flecks of blue and green in the grey of his eyes. He swallows, and does not ask what Curufin is thinking.

His expression may be carved from stone, but Finrod knows him well enough to know that beneath, a storm is brewing. He is not sure he wants to know what will follow in its wake if it is unleashed, and so he curls his hands into fists and keeps his eyes fixed past Curufin’s shoulder as he pulls the lacing free.

Finrod is no stranger to pain, far from it. Still, when Curufin says, “Brace yourself,” and pulls the thick vest off the remaining shaft of the arrow, Finrod does not quite succeed at biting down on the anguish that rises in his throat.

Curufin catches him, one hand an anchor on the nape of Finrod’s neck. Even through the dancing haze of pain, he can tell that Curufin’s entire body is brimming with tension.

“Come on, lie down,” Curufin eventually says. Where others would sound soft, his voice comes out harsh; still, he does help Finrod do so.

Finrod closes his eyes and can no longer bring up the self-restraint not to reach for Curufin; to not clench his good hand into Curufin’s cloak, to make sure that he does not go far.

It has been a long time since Finrod felt so low, and it is a strange thing, the way he wants to flinch from such vulnerability in front of Curufin. How, at the same time, he cannot help but trust him. To be relieved that it is him—practical, clinical, not shying away from Finrod and his pain.

It has always been what Finrod liked most about him; a dangerous thing. The irony of this being what may yet save him now is not lost on him.

“Here, bite down on this,” Curufin says—orders, really—dragging Finrod back to the present.

It is not Finrod’s bracers again but the hilt of a small dagger. He recognises it as one of Fëanor’s, the leather wrappings around the hilt stitched with red and golden thread—a homage to Míriel.

He wants to laugh, but Curufin has already moved on, pulling aside Finrod’s tunic with careful fingers. They are cool against his hot skin, and Finrod wishes—he wishes that this were not the first time that Curufin touches him so.

Finrod takes the dagger and bites down on the hilt.

Once more, Curufin uses one hand to hold him down. He meets Finrod’s eyes briefly, something unreadable in his gaze; distantly, absurdly, Finrod thinks it may be the closest he will ever get to an apology.

Then Curufin grabs the shaft, fingers strong, and pulls the arrow out in one swift, merciless move. Finrod screams.

Blood wells to the surface, hot and sticky. It runs over Curufin’s hand and down Finrod’s neck, the smell almost overwhelming. Finrod thrashes when Curufin presses fabric against the wound with enough force that darkness dances along the edges of Finrod’s vision.

He is breathing harshly, and it sends pain lacing through him with every inhale, every exhale. His hands have found Curufin’s legs, his wrist, nails digging into fabric and soft skin.

Finrod would apologise, but he does not think that he has anything but curses and confessions within him.

He looks at Curufin. Curufin keeps looking at his hands.

“The bleeding does not stop,” he says, his voice like thunder in the stillness.

Finrod has no answer, even if he could speak. Beyond Curufin, the ravine has gone dark, stars blinking deceptively peaceful through the treetops. The only source of light is the fire, but it is enough to see the creases on Curufin’s face, the tightness around his eyes.

“Findaráto,” he says, finally meeting Finrod’s eyes again—a storm staring back at him. “The bleeding is not stopping.”

He takes his hand away from the wound to show the soaked-through fabric to Finrod. He lets it drop, replaces it with more of the same, but Finrod—

Well, Finrod knows, then, what he is not saying. He finally takes the knife from between his teeth, bares them at Curufin.

“Say what you mean, Curufinwë. Have you not wished death on me often enough to not flinch from it now, of all times? You warned me—the Orcs—it will not even be your—“

“Shut up,” Curufin snaps, and his voice is a violent thing, cutting Finrod to the bone. “You are not going to die here, Ingoldo, or so help me—“

He cuts himself off, and it is clear now, so clear, what he has tried to keep contained beneath that implacable mask, the rage a white-flamed, snarling beast finally breaking through the cracks.

Curufin visibly reins himself in, his nostrils flaring. “I will have to cauterise the wound, or you will bleed out, but by all the Valar, Ingoldo, I will do that before I let you die in this godforsaken forest from something so pathetic as an Orc arrow.”

Somewhere deep beneath the layers of fear and pain, Finrod thinks that he would like to pick the words apart one by one, dig his nails into their edges, break them open. Find all that they so cleverly do not say.

Here and now, his mind keeps catching on one word alone, his heart kicking rabbit-fast inside his chest.

“Surely, there is another way?” he presses out, fingers digging into the flesh of Curufin’s thigh. “Cauterising is a mannish solution, it is—“

“It is the only thing I can think of to stop the bleeding. The arrow must have been poisoned, the wound is deep, and I know Turko has used it before. We are all cursed to die more easily in these lands, Ingoldo; your golden head as much as my dispossessed one. You can die and meet your brothers in the halls to tell you the same, or you can let me do this. And I am not about to let you choose.”

Finrod flinches from the words. Pulls air into his lungs through gritted teeth, holds it. His shoulder throbs. Beneath his hands, Curufin is strung tight, his eyes shining silver in the dim light.

Finrod wants to live. Above everything, always, he wants to live. It is what carried him across the Ice, through battle after battle, into the depths of the earth.

Finrod wants to live. If he trusts anyone to press fire to his skin to make it so, it would be Curufin.

“Alright,” he says, and tilts his chin up as best he might in his position. “If you mess it up, rest assured that I will return to haunt you for the rest of your days.”

The corner of Curufin’s mouth twitches, minuscule reprieve from the fury still drawing his features tight. He does not say anything though, merely keeps one hand pressed down on the fabric over Finrod’s wound. He grabs another one of his knives and holds it into the fire.

His expression is stoic. Finrod tastes fear in the back of his throat like acrid poison.

Perhaps Curufin senses some of it, or perhaps, it is coincidence. Perhaps he cares nought for the pain he is about to inflict, or perhaps, if the Gods still care a little about Finrod, he wants to offer Finrod whatever comfort he may give.

Whatever it is, Curufin turns to look down at him once more. Says Ingoldo, voice low, and lets go of the fabric for just long ago to brush strands of hair out of Finrod’s face. “You will be fine, all right? I told you; I am not going to let you die here.”

Finrod would answer, but Curufin’s hand returns to the wound, presses down. His face blanks over once more and he says, all cold sharpness, “Bite down on the knife. Brace yourself.”

Finrod does. He closes his eyes, buries his fingers into whatever parts of Curufin he can reach, and pretends that he cannot smell the hot metal, cannot tell when Curufin braces himself, too.

He pulls the fabric away, and moves. Finrod opens his eyes and watches Curufin’s face—the cracking, splintering wreck of it—as he presses the white-hot blade to Finrod’s shoulder.

Finrod must scream, he thinks. The pain is like nothing he has ever known before, is cutting down into his very core and beyond. Is turning him inside out, every dark part of him coming apart for Curufin to see, until finally, finally, finally the world goes blissfully, mercifully dark. 

*

Waking is an arduous process, slow and heavy and as if he were back on the Ice.

There is a cloak wrapped around him, though, a fire burning. Someone is sitting close by, whittling away at something or other if the smell of fresh wood is anything to go by.

Finrod’s shoulder throbs sharply, and the remaining memories come back, the smell of burnt flesh bursting across his senses as if it had only waited for him to catch up.

He must make a noise because a hand lands on his good shoulder, heavy but reassuring.

“Ingoldo,” Curufin says, his voice quiet, restrained.

Finrod blinks up at him and notes that he looks tired. Some of his braids have come loose and the skin beneath his eyes is dark. Behind him, dawn is painting the sky in the first pastels of autumn morning.

“Curufinwë,” he says. “I live.”

It is meant to be a jest, after the darkness of the night. Curufin’s face clouds over though, and his eyes flash. He takes his hand back and then, very deliberately, keeps himself still.

Finrod sighs. “Help me sit?”

Despite—despite whatever it is Curufin is struggling with, Curufin does. His hands do not linger and he does not meet Finrod’s eyes, but he does. Hands him a waterskin after, and tugs the red cloak back around Finrod wordlessly. As if all these actions do not hold weight and meaning, coming from him.

Finrod drinks, and looks into the smouldering embers of the fire.

From beside him, Curufin watches.

“You saved my life,” Finrod says. “You did not have to.”

It is the truth, for what it is worth. Curufin exhales harshly. “Because clearly, you are incapable of keeping yourself alive. What were you thinking, Finderáto? Not only to leave Nargothrond on your own as if you were still a spoilt Princeling, unaware of the dangers of the world, but to try and battle an entire company of Orcs? You could have fled. You could have—you could have done anything other than what you did, and what if I had not caught up with you? You are so arrogant, so convinced you are invincible, and for what? For me to play the healer, make you suffer, all for your vanity? You have always been a thoughtless creature, but this—“

“Curvo,” Finrod says, soft. He has not used the name since Aman, and it makes his cousin stop in his tracks.

Curufin’s face is a riot of rage, and his eyes are very bright in the morning light.

“Come here.”

Curufin’s mouth curls, his eyes flashing dangerously. He is so furious, Finrod would not be surprised if he was about to be struck where he sits, but the thing is—

Well, the thing is that Finrod has known what hovered between them, ever since Curufin came to Nargothrond in the wake of the fire. Had known it through late nights spent working side by side in the forges, or sitting over plans for the kingdom, for their survival, over grain reports and guard schedules. Over theoretical discussions on craft and philosophy.

He had known what it meant when Curufin’s eyes followed him through Nargothrond’s dim corridors; what it meant, in turn, when in every room Finrod searched him out first.

He had known what it meant, the same way Curufin did. And yet it had always been Finrod who stepped back from that precipice, who broke away from the unyielding intensity of those silver eyes, who snatched his hand back at the last possible moment.

Who, after all, would believe that Curufin could ever be something to be kept, to be tamed? Who could think that it was anything but sheer arrogance to kiss the mouth that held such sharp tongue and teeth, to expect anything but to be burnt to the bone if one dared come too close?

So, Finrod knows. Knows, too, why he was a fool to leave his kingdom without a guard, and why he did so regardless. And yet here they are, Curufin not finding him once again, but having saved him, too; a storm as unpredictable as the winds out of the west that can turn a battle but rarely do.

Finrod swallows. Smiles. His shoulder throbs in accord with his heart.

“Come here,” he repeats, reaching out, just enough to tangle his fingers into the seam of the woollen tunic Curufin wears.

“If you think—“

“Curufinwë,” Finrod says, laughing, sharp. “Do not make me ask again. Please.”

Something breaks then, he can see it. Curufin sways where he sits, his eyes dragging across Finrod’s face. Finrod makes use of what little grip he has on him and tugs him close.

Curufin goes. Imperceptibly, slowly, but he leans closer; moves until they are leaning toward each other, close enough that Finrod can feel his warmth, can feel Curufin’s breath against his mouth.

“Closer,” he says, an order and a request. He does not wait for an answer or to be obeyed; leans in the last few inches, and brushes his mouth against Curufin’s, even as his shoulder screams in protest.

“I am sorry,” he says, against the waiting mouth. A shudder goes through Curufin, and Finrod is too close to make out the look on his face, but he knows, still, that it must be something awfully close to surrender.

He wonders if this is what Celegorm feels like, whenever he tames one of his beasts. Although somehow, Finrod doubts that Celegorm ever feels this thrill of warning, this lingering impression that he may find himself with his throat torn out, the moment he dares to let his attention slip, no matter the supple compliance beneath his hands.

He kisses Curufin again, lingers this time. Curufin hums, a low, pleased sound. He is careful when he curves his fingers around Finrod’s jaw, his thumb pressing into the corner of Finrod’s mouth, and then he is kissing Finrod properly, all teeth and tongue and lack of air.

“If you ever do something like this again,” Curufin says, nipping at Finrod’s bottom lip, “I will let the damn Orcs get you.”

Finrod laughs, light-headed and delighted, pulling him in, closer, closer, closer.

“I will make it up to you,” he vows, and licks into Curufin’s mouth, chasing the taste of something new and precious, something so bright it might yet keep out the shadows.

Curufin huffs, and pulls away. When Finrod looks at him, there is no anger left in his eyes, no resentment. There is only the deceptive calm after impact, right before the torrent hits.

“You better,” Curufin says, and he kisses Finrod’s cheek, his nose, his mouth. “You waited long enough, and I do not go through this disdainfully mannish ordeal for just anyone.”

Finrod rolls his eyes and kisses him again. If it has the advantage of shutting Curufin up while they are at it, he will keep that to himself, for the time being.

The storm will catch up with him soon enough.

[woodlandrealm]

the autocorrect on my phone: bilbo baggins, more like bimbo gaggins am i right

[merlinbingo]

Come back to me by magicinavalon Ship: Nimueh/Ygraine Main Characters: Nimueh, Ygraine Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: nimueh, ygraine, grief, merlin, come back Summary: Nimueh cupping the face of Ygraine's statue, wishing she would come back to her.

"Come back to me."

for @merlinrarepairfest and @merlinbingo

[kairennart]

3:17

For @magicinavalon <3

[tolkienpinupcalendar]

Sluttiest Tolkien Character: Round 5

Sauron (Silmarillion) vs Finrod

Art by @ylieke ; @magicinavalon

Propaganda below the cut ↓

Sauron (Silm):

multiple flirty court twink phases in different courts….and let’s knot forget his werewolf phase

Annatar isn’t called “stupid sexy sauron” for nothing!!!!

is described literally as having "seduced" two men to do his bidding (ar-pharazon and celebrimbor) and was seduced in turn by morgoth. he's being passed around middle earth.

i mean. come on.

He was seduced by the mightiest vala and, after his sugar daddy ended up in jail, he decided to seduce his way into power. He destroyed and entire civilization and made God™ change the geography of the world just by seducing one guy, who ended up "infatuated by him" (Tolkien's words, not mine). How can anyone compete with that? 

Come on, it’s Mairon. Sexiest Maia on Middle-Earth and described as beautiful and seductive more times then Luthien herself. 

He’s a seducer! He has seduced so many people throughout the series

Finrod:

I MEAN LOOK AT HIM ?? Jewelry ? Music ? Rap Battle against Sauron ? Getting friendly with humans as soon as he meets them

That man is draped in jewellery in almost every art made, you can't tell me he wouldn't enjoy laying around with only that jewelry and nothing else on him, being admired by everyone around.

Hair, style, the way he just took a crown, also he's definitely the sluttiest in his family. Galadriel is the tough one

He has a recorded relationship/engagement in Aman. Then, after that fell apart, we all know that Finrod was really into anthropology and ~maintaining relationships~ with the kindreds of the secondborn and the dwarves. He's known for keeping all these ~close personal~ relationships.

He just goes up to a human campfire and starts singing. Show-off move. More than that, hippie-at-a-music-festival move. You know what hippies do at music festivals? When they're high on love and peace and roughing it through nature to get to the music festival (and whatever other elvish cordials with Magical Special Restorative Effects they've brought)? They fuck. Then he invites Beor back to his home and gives him a ring and promises to care for all his descendents ever after? Finrod not only fucks, his heart is all slutty with affection. He's a slutty kingdom-ruler, too. Nargothrond's supposed to be a secret, but he just can't keep those doors closed. And then there's a substantial amount of of Finrod/Curufin art and fic. Scandalously slutty! Your own cousin-lover cucking your kingdom out from under you! Finally: you know that in several places in Aman and Middle Earth, some young people got their kink awakening seeing vaguely-erotic etchings of Finrod wrestling the werewolf. You know this.

[romish-elf]

Heyyy i recently got into lotr and I'm a sucker for aralas so i wanted to know if u have a list of fanfic recommendations? Maybe your favorite aralas fanfics? I really wanna read awesome aralas fanfics but im new in the fandom so i don't really know where to look for recommendations. I love your blog!

Hiii and welcome to the fandom! There are SO. MANY. good Aralas fics, so apologies in advance for the length of this post! First off, I'm going to link you to maedhrosdefender's Aralas fic recs masterlist—these are truly some of the best Aralas fics out there, and I love every single one of them.

In addition, I recommend the following:

Series:

First Meetings by Isildwen (followed up by To Make A Choice, Inauspicious Beginnings, and Choices Made)

Mithrin I through Mithrin VIII by Geale

The Price of Pride by ArielT

Multi-chapter:

5 Times Aragorn Tried to Seduce Legolas, and the 1 Time It Worked by crewdlydrawn

A Fool's Hope by disenchantedwing

Beware of the Sea by Nanethoiithil

The weave of your hands by aramblingjay

One-shots:

Im Mel Cin — Goodnight by scared_gardn

Quips and endearments by lavendrshortbread

The First Step Was a Stumble by MagicInAvalon, queerofthedagger

the whole world is moving (and I'm standing still) by laricina

Triple Dare by Hoo-ah

The above are all in-universe fics. If you like AU's, I recommend:

All of the While, It Was You by Nit_Nat (my very own coffee shop AU)

Killing Strangers by Laavu (a LotR/Fallout crossover, but you don't need to have any knowledge of Fallout)

Also, you really can't go wrong with any fic by the following authors:

Laavu

Michelle

queerofthedagger

sakurashakedown

u_wear_fine_things_well

And a new addition, Felifiran

Lastly, if you don't already, I recommend following @vamp-ress on Tumblr, she regularly posts awesome fic recs.

Hope this helps and happy reading!!!

[estel-elrondion]

Heyyy I'm really new in the lotr fandom but I'm huge sucker for aralas, i saw you are a fanfic writer (and artist) and i just wanted to ask you if you could recommend me some of your favorite aralas fanfics (ao3, fanfictionnet, etc). I wanna read abt them but i wanna know what are the fan favorites so the best of the best, i would be so grateful if you could share some with me. Thank you so much!

Welcome to the fandom

So I usually read the fics by the author and not by the fics. So I will recommend them

Attenia - This author has both the friendship based one and the romantic ones.

(I am also not sure of what kind of rating you are comfortable with, so I will mark the mature ones seperately)

Geale - (Most of the fics are Mature) My personal favorites are a long way from home and Author's notes

Sakurashakedown - How the heart approaches when it yearns series

CatNoirz - When you want to read the feel good fics. ( Believe me you will want it after all the angst)

Michelle - one of the first authors I read

Few fic recommendations

The weave of your hands by aramblingjay

like burning flame

The first step was a stumble by MagicInAvalon and queerofthedaggar

Honourable mentions

Not aralas specifically but still very very good fics

Canafinwe - The way they writes is so beautiful.

HarryEstel - Best Legolas and Aragorn fics that include their whole families

[kairenn-n]

Last Line Tag / Six Sentence Sunday

Surely it's still sunday somewhere out there right? Thank you @queerofthedagger for tagging me <3 I wrote this into the fic I'm editing. They're training with staffs!!

He offered Lancelot a hand again. Before he could realise what was happening, Lancelot had grabbed him, kicked his legs and threw him on the same spot where he had been laying. He straddled Arthur’s hips, one hand on his chest and the other holding the staff to his neck.  Arthur remained still, all the blood in his body rushing and his breathing stuttering. “Do I win this one?” Lancelot said, his victorious smile already knowing the answer. Arthur may have imagined it, but Lancelot’s breaths were coming out shorter, quicker.

Tagging @magicinavalon @wolfiery @insane-ohwhyfandoms @aeonthedimensionalgirl @shana-rosee

[endlessbigbang]

Masterlist

And that's a wrap! We're so happy to conclude the first big bang for the Sandman fandom with 23 amazing collaborations. Endless, endless thanks to everyone who lent their support, to our writers and artists and podficcers, to the alphas, betas, and cheerleaders and, last but not least, the readers. We're so overjoyed with the success of this event, and can't wait to be back next year!

You can find all creations beneath the cut, please leave all our creators some love!

Love,

the mods (@kairenn-n, @magicinavalon, and @queerofthedagger)

Title: Feathers take Flight (find a home in my heart) Writer: @the-narwhals-awaken Artist: @amielot Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No archive warnings apply Word Count: 16,233 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus / Hob Gadling, Destiny of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Death of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Destruction of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Desire of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Despair of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Delirium of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Hob's Coworkers (just characters). Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe- Wings, all relationships other than dreamling are somewhat minor

Summary:

In a world where there are those that have wings sprouting from their backs, many things remain the same- after all, human nature is human nature, and wings can only change so much. However, when a belated meeting turns into a chance to get closer, to offer and recieve trust and care after a century locked in Fawney Rig, a new path can be set upon- and new futures open up.

Fic link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48303274 Art link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48587698

---

Title: blue windows behind the stars Writer: celestarium (@meadowziplines) Artist: Blargh (@brokebrainmountain) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator chose not to use archive warnings / Suicide, suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts Word Count: 21,532 Pairing/main characters: Gen; Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Lucien | Lucienne (The Sandman), Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Destruction of the Endless, Matthew the Raven, Desire of the Endless, Despair of the Endless, Delirium of the Endless, Background & Cameo Characters Up to 10 Additional Tags: Trauma, Panic Attacks, Flashbacks, Depression, Nightmares, Exhaustion, Catharsis, Farms, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Hopeful Ending

Summary:

Dream contemplates what death would mean for an Endless after the resolution of the Vortex, dragged down by untold millennia of exhaustion, suicidal ideation, and self-loathing. Struggling with his own past and mistakes, but with the conviction that he should give the world a new Dream of the Endless, he attempts suicide. Lucienne, Death, and Matthew catch up in time to save him, and to aid him in the weeks following, Destruction of the Endless offers to let Dream (and his friend Hob Gadling) stay with him on his farm in Aotearoa (New Zealand). A vulnerable and emotional Morpheus agrees. While there, Dream struggles to reconcile his emotional state and sense of self with his duty as an Endless, and most of all, find hope again. His friends, family, and allies do their best to help him find answers, aid in nourishing hope, and plan for the future.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48335944/chapters/121909153

---

Title: Room For Love Writer: @staroftheendless Artist: @pintobordeaux Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~ 65,500 Warnings: None Pairing/main characters: Dream x Hob Additional Tags: roommate AU, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, sexual tension, fluff and smut, artist Hob

Summary:

Sometimes in life, we make little decisions that lead to things so much bigger, we can hardly wrap our heads around it. After never quite getting along with people, Dream is surprised to become best friends with his new roommate Hob. He might even have a bit of a crush on him. The only problem? Hob could never like him the same way. Hob makes friends easily, especially with Dream, who's the best friend anyone could hope for. The only problem? After five years of living together, Dream shows up in places of Hob's mind where a friend doesn't quite belong. Now the only question left is, who's going to make the little decision that leads to bigger things?

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48699178/chapters/122844601 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48715300/chapters/122886778

---

Title: By The Dead of Morning Writer: Essie (@essie007) Artist: @teejaystumbles Rating: Explicit Warnings: Suicidal Ideation, Minor Character Death, Temporary Character Death, mentions of revenge porn, mentions of stillbirth Word Count: 39,775 Pairing: Dreamling Additional Tags (up to 10): reverse verse, canon divergent AU, Hob Gadling is Hope of the Endless, Human Morpheus, angst with a happy ending, Endless Family Drama

Summary:

When Despair is killed by the Kindly Ones for spilling family blood, she departs to the sunless lands, never to return. Thus, Hob Gadling, a lowly mercenary living in London in 1389, becomes Hope of the Endless. Over six hundred years later, Death takes him out for a drink, Desire in tow, to the Tavern of the White Horse, where he meets Morpheus, a down on his luck mortal crying into his sangria after a recent break-up. Desire believes that Morpheus’s death wish is genuine and that he will be dead within a year, but Hope is certain the man has too much to live for. Death offers a solution, she will not take Morpheus until he asks for her gift, but as soon as he does, she will grant it. Hob approaches Morpheus with every intention of winning a bet, but Hob is the youngest Endless by far and doesn’t know the family’s full complicated history. Or their connection to Morpheus. A reverse-verse canon divergent AU.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48475690/chapters/122275639 ---

Title: The Moonstone Writer: gisho Artist: @vriah Rating: Not Rated Warnings: no warnings Word Count: 21,254 Pairing/main characters: Rose Walker, Dream of the Endless, Jed Walker, Gault Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Knightly Quests, fairytale logic

Summary:

Morpheus finds a way to avoid killing a vortex - he gives Rose his own heart, forcing her to take his place as Dream. The new Dream has to deal with a life she never expected and try not to repeat her predessor's mistakes. In the waking world, the people she left behind grieve and wonder. And when Roses's little brother Jed is offered the chance to switch from superhero to questing knight, with some help from an old friend, he leaps at the opportunity.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48314338

---

Title: little by little, and also in great leaps Writer: she_who_loves_dreamling (all_fandoms_reader) (@i-love-all-books) Artist: @d8dc Rating: Teen+ Warnings: Graphic violence Word Count: 21,082 Pairing/main characters: Dreamling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, The Love Is Requited They're Just Idiots, idiots to lovers, Getting Together, Canon-Typical Violence

Summary:

In one world, Jessamy and Death depart for the Sunless lands, and it will be long years before Dream is free. This is not that world. ~ Hob is eating breakfast on Tuesday, August 10th, in the year of our Lord 1926, when Death comes knocking. Or, the obligatory fishbowl rescue fic, followed by a series of dates in the Dreaming which Dream doesn't realise are dates and Hob doesn't realise are real. AKA mutual pining with a happy ending.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48535429 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49062727

---

Title: It's Only Forever, Not Long At All Writer: @beholdingthegaytimes Artist: @mayhemspreadingguy Rating: Explicit Warnings: None Word Count: 25k Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Masquerade Ball AU, Vampire Au, Alternate First Meeting, Violinist Hob Gadling, Vampire Dream of the Endless, Blood drinking, First time, Lust at first sight, Strangers to Hook Up to Lovers

Summary:

Hob should know by now not to go along with Death’s schemes, but here he is at a masquerade ball for her baby brother. He’s never met him, but Death's told Hob that he was indeed that pale lord that left the White Horse in a stink just before Death sauntered up and gave Hob immortality. Surrounded by impossible creatures and otherworldly beings, one specific person catches his attention: an inhumanly beautiful dark haired man in a raven mask. Hob loses track of him and the night spirals out in mayhem as Hob gets himself into trouble. Fey trouble to be exact. Or An alternate first meeting with romance, dramatic disputes, vampiric flare, and classical music.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/endless_big_bang_2023/works/48594271

---

Title: The Seven Lamps of Architecture Writer: Quilling (@Quillingwords) Artist: @the-cloudy-dreamer Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 29,640 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Magical Realism; Gothic Atmosphere; The Dreaming is both a setting and basically its own character here; Literary and artistic references and allusions; Meta on storytelling and narratives; Dream goes by all of his names here; POV Hob Gadling; In which he gets to peel back each of the layers like an onion (or a tulip bulb - this will make more sense later)

Summary:

Moonlight made pools of yellow on the marble. What was this place? And the man he caught a glimpse of, the first night this place opened up to him, from between the windows that could have been doors. That was his Stranger from the Tavern of the White Horse, almost a century ago, Hob was sure of it. Hob had come to suspect that on that otherwise ordinary summer evening, he had embraced immortality and perhaps, given up his soul with perfect happiness. What a fable that would be. -- November, 1475. Hob Gadling arrives in Venice, explores a mysterious world of cosmic grandeur, trades ink-stained love confessions with his stranger, and embraces the most important lesson of all: that life is a story all on its own, past and present and an ending that isn't really an ending at all

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48302461/chapters/121819900

---

Title: Holding On While You Slip Away Writer: @acedragontype Artist: @alexxuun Rating: Explicit Warnings: Outdated queer language/ideas, transphobia, minor character death, public outing, witch trials and drowning, warfare Word Count: 33,148 Pairing/Main Characters: Hob Gadling/Dream (Morpheus) Up to 10 Additional Tags: Trans Hob Gadling, Queer History, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Getting Together, Dream Sex, Dream Transformation, Trans Hob gets his preferred body in dreams, Top Morpheus, Top Hob Gadling

Summary:

He was not born Robert Gadling, he'd spent the first 16 years of his life going by another name. And yet, he'd always been Hob in his dreams. A Trans!Hob au exploring his various relationships in the context of queer history, as well as how he feels about his own body and identity.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48290944

---

Title: Closing the Distance Writer: Ryunya (@ryunyaz) Artist: innenui Rating: Mature Warnings: Attempted Sexual Assault Word Count: 18k Pairing/main characters: Dream/Hob Up to 10 Additional Tags: H/C, Blood and Violence, Fluff, Sensory Overload

Summary:

Distance (and time) make the heart grow fonder, and both Dream and Hob are very happy to be finally reunited. However, Dream gets affected by the Waking world in ways he never has before, and that complicates things a bit.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48624715?view_full_work=true

---

Title: Shoulder the Sky Writer: im_not_corrupted (@im-not-corrupted) Artist: @kd-heart Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Word Count: 35,279 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, Depression, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus has Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Grief/Mourning, POV Second Person, aftermath of imprisonment, Emotional Hurt, Suicide Attempt, Post Season/Series 01

Summary:

Dream's time spent caged by Roderick Burgess has changed him, and he is tired. The Dreaming is loud, an ocean that drowns him. His responsibilities are another cage, and Dream comes to the realisation that he does not want to be who he is anymore. But he is Endless, and the Endless cannot change. It is not enough to banish the exhaustion that haunts Dream's steps, but he finds comfort in Hob's company as the two of them navigate a tentative friendship. It is a break, when the Dreaming gets too loud. It is not enough. Dream finds himself unable to find the words to explain what is happening inside his own head, though many are willing to listen. Eventually, his own desire to change and be something different manifests itself as a door inside the Dreaming that will take him to the Sunless Lands. It is not the change he wanted. But he is tired, and this door is the only way to escape his function. Though he doesn't take the chance at first, eventually the Dreaming manifests his own resentment for his function as a fog that blankets his kingdom, until Death seems like the only way out. Thankfully, Death of the Endless has another solution to offer her brother.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48299206 Art (Podfic): https://archiveofourown.org/works/48631597

---

Title: It's A Kind of Magic Writer: artful_fanfic (@artfulusername) Artist: @jeniidrawsshit Rating: Explicit (E) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Drowning-Related PTSD Word Count: 21,957 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling; Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven, Lucien | Lucienne (The Sandman) Up to 10 Additional Tags: Movie Night, POV Alternating, Appearance by Death of the Endless, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Blowjob

Summary:

While Dream and Hob navigate their newly-admitted friendship by engaging in traditional movie nights, neither of them seem prepared to admit that being simply friends is the last thing they want. Will their assumptions about the other's wants and needs keep getting in the way? Will Dream stop wanting to glare at Matthew for teaching him about "Netflix and Chill?" Only time will tell. Fortunately for them, they've got plenty of it.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48640318/chapters/122695573 Art: https://www.tumblr.com/jeniidrawsshit/725505982684397568/endlessbigbangitsakindofmagic

---

Title: More Than a Concept Writer: AnneMcSommers Artist: @five-and-dimes Rating: Mature Warnings: Dysfunctional Family, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Touch-StarvedTouch-Starved Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Self-Worth Issues, Self-Acceptance, Homophobia, Acephobia, Internalized Acephobia, Non-Consensual Body Modifications, Trauma, Bad Parenting, Food Issues Word Count: 15345 Relationships: Desire of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Death of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Delirium of the Endless & Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Despair of the Endless & Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless & Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Up to 10 Additional Tags: Family Feels, The New Inn is a Temple to Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, non-binary characters, Angst with a happy ending, Dream of the Endless| Morpheus needs a hug, Miscommunication, Sensory Processing Disorder, Misunderstanding

Summary:

When Desire plans to host a June family dinner, with human aspects that Dream doesn't understand, he turns to his human friend Hob Gadling for more information. What he learns leads Dream on a journey of self discovery, about who he is, what it means to be Endless, and his relationship with those he calls family.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48096463/chapters/121279201

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Title: An EPIPHANY of POPPIES upon the BATTLEFIELD or Robert Gadling and Delirium of the Endless' Adventures through No Man's Lands Writer: @questing-wulfstan Artist: Mockspeed ( @mock-arts ) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Canon-typical violence, the Corinthian is his own warning Word Count: 26k Pairing/main characters: Morpheus & Hob Gadling, Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Delirium of the Endless & Hob Gadling // Hob Gadling, Delirium of the Endless, Death of the Endless, Lucienne, the Corinthian, Dream of the Endless Rating: Explicit Up to 10 Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Canon Divergence, Hob Gadling saves Dream of the Endless from Burgess' basement, World War II, Substance Abuse, Hallucinations, Suicidal Thoughts, religious Hob Gadling, Catholicism, Blood and Violence

Summary:

April 1940, On a French battlefield, Hob Gadling doubts his will to persevere in being alive for the second time of his existence. He swallows morphine in the hope to soothe his horror-scarified mind, and summons a mirage of the stranger who occupied his thoughts as the patron of his immortality. In a Japanese psychiatric ward, Delirium of the Endless is alerted by Dream's irruption in her realm, who she found missing when she sought his company on her quest for the Prodigal. Disappointment overcomes her as she finds it was but an image of her brother conjured by a mortal, and so it does Hob when her eruption dismisses the vision. Delirium will not resign herself to her exponential loss of brothers however, neither will Hob Gadling withhold his help from any entity in distress, whether the stranger or his younger sister ; they just might hold the potential to liberate Morpheus between their four hands ...

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48626764 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48305194

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Title: ask what you want of my soul Writer: PanBoleyn (@eidetictelekinetic) Artist: kdheart (@kd-heart) Rating: Mature Warnings: Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 16,354 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hope|Elpis; Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Elpis (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Mythological Characters, Endless Siblings - Character, Original Characters Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Fem!Dreamling, Hope Hob (or Hope Ella), artistic license - mythology, Canon-Typical Violence, Temporary Character Death

Summary: 

In modern English, they will even speak of hopes and dreams together, as if they were one. They are not, but hope is often what starts the turn of someone’s dream to their reality, and so perhaps it is not surprising, that the youngest child of Brightness and Day was drawn to the thirdborn child of Time and Night. In which Pandora's jar was never a jar, and Hope was in love with Dream before she was lost. And long, long after, Ella Gadling caught the attention of Dream and Death, setting in motion the end of a curse, and revelations along with it.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48314875 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48631930

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Title: Do you believe in life after love Writer: dino_cattivo Artist: spiaem ( @spiaem ) Rating: teens and up Warnings: none Word Count: 17,667 Pairing/main characters: dream/hob Up to 10 Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending self-Esteem Issues, Nosebleed ,illnesses ,Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

Summary:

God's like Zeus have shown themselves to humanity in modern times as they felt their power dwindle. With the worship of the people at an all-time height, they recover and are stronger than ever, sometimes even forfilling their followers wishes. History teacher Hob doesn't pray to any god. The history texts have taught him gods were only kind as long as they needed something. A belief that wavers after a bad breakup with his long-term boyfriend. Though before he can do something, he meets Morpheus, a handsome stranger showing interest in him and pushing for a relationship. They end up together but Morpheus has a hidden agenda.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48302005/chapters/121818418#workskin Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49454986

---

Title: where dreams dwell not Writer: jamais_vu0 Artist: foxish (@kitsune2022-artish) Rating: Teen Warnings: canon-typical violence, temporary character death Word Count: 89,523 Pairing/main characters: Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless, Hob/Dream Additional tags: fairy tale AU, Hob saves Dream from the fishbowl, slow burn

Summary:

Hob Gadling is wasting away, aching for adventure and the chance to live life as it's meant to be lived. When he receives a mysterious letter promising all the adventure he could want in exchange for a year of his company, he takes the offer and finds himself in a lonely castle in a land of magic, a strange figure haunting his dreams. And when Hob himself breaks the one rule he's been given days before the year is complete, he finds himself embarking on the adventure he's always wanted, in order to save his Dream from a fate worse than death.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48303526/chapters/121823242 Art: https://www.tumblr.com/kitsune2022-artish/726233688430477312/my-art-for-the-endlessbigbang-2023-for

---

Title: Love at Third Sight Writer: Gfawkes / LLflorence (@llflorence) Artist: @hpurlnovi Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 20,455 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Top Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Bottom Hob Gadling, Explicit Sexual Content, Identity Reveal, Mutual Pining, Romance, Light Angst, Emotional Sex

Summary:

Hob is dyslexic, and music notes are just like letters. B’s and d’s and p’s and q’s all look the same, as do all those little bastard tadpoles on the musical staff. So he does it a little differently, with a little humor and a lot of close-ups of his hairy fingers. And for some reason, it’s a hit in more ways than one. As Robyn begins to tune his instrument, Hob cases the room for his stranger. It’s the third time the handsome man has been to one of their gigs. There’s something familiar about him, something Hob can’t quite put his finger on. But the fact that he’s made eye contact for the third time is extremely intriguing. Johanna, of course, notices. “You’re looking for him again, aren’t you.”

Art & Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48001063/chapters/121029040

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Title: Sunrise in Chocolate Ink Writer: @aquilathefighter Artist: @vriah Rating: Teen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 15,047 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Autistic Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Anxiety Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Social Anxiety, Poet Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Barista Hob Gadling

Summary:

Dream Endlaez is newly living on his own and trying to make it as a poet. He starts going to work at a nearby coffee shop known for supporting local artists, where he meets a handsome and charming barista named Hob. Dream learns the business is not doing well, so he decides to host a poetry reading night to attract customers (and boost his career at the same time!), all the while falling for the barista.

Art & Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48363172

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Title: The Many Lives of Hob Gadling Writer: @landwriter Artist: @teejaystumbles Pairing/main characters: Dream/Hob Rating: M Warnings: Chose Not To Warn Word Count: ~20K Up to 10 Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, Non-Linear Narrative, Reincarnation, Letters, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Devotion, Quests

Summary:

A man, supine and utterly still, in what might have seemed like a deep sleep, draws in a long slow breath and opens his eyes. He smiles up at the sky, for he knows not much at all, but he knows this: Hob Gadling is a man of good fortune. A story about refusing to leave. A story about a quest that spans lifetimes. A story about losing someone, and bringing them back with love.

Art & Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49088941

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Title: Strains of a Melody Writer: @ginoeh Artists: Theotherwillow & @kairennart Rating: M Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Word Count: 55 526 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling & Orpheus, Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless, Orpheus Up to 10 Additional Tags: mild gore, past character death, angst and hurt/comfort, suicidal ideation, comic compliant assisted suicide of minor character, Hob's inability to die despite bein fatally wounded, look this has a hopeful ending okay?, Light At The End Of The Tunnel, Orpheus is a warning all for himself really, Comic spoilers for Brief Lives

Summary:

When Hob Gadling strands on Naxos at the beginning of the 20th century, some long-laid-plans and designs unravel. While the great stories always return to their original forms, for some this is the start of an entirely new narrative. The Fates, though, demand their due and neither Dream not Hob are free until all debts are paid in full.

Story & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48637858/chapters/122689126

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Title: Which Prisoners Call the Sky Writer: @dreamerinsilico Artist: @harukaspiegel Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Word Count: 16,339 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless|Morpheus/Hob Gadling; Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless|Morpheus, The Corinthian, Desire of the Endless, Unity Kinkaid, Matthew the Raven Up to 10 Additional Tags: Angst With a Happy Ending, Nightmares, The Corinthian is His Own Warning, a particular Siamese cat, Dreamwalking, Medical Abuse, Fishbowl Rescue, the rescue is mutual

Summary: 

In his lucid periods, Hob worries more and more often about how long he has been asleep. People dream of things that don’t exist all the time, of course, but not the same things, with such consistency. In 1916, Hob Gadling falls asleep and doesn't wake up. He begins to realize that he can wander after an encounter with a young girl on a black-sand beach, and he knows there's something important missing, everywhere he goes. When he learns it might be a someone, he puts all of his six centuries of being a tenacious bastard to use.

Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49760731 Art: https://www.tumblr.com/harukaspiegel/727195638811574272/wich-prisoners-call-the-sky-by?source=share

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Title: The Other Kingdom Writer: Banhus (@that-banhus) Artist: Mockspeed (@mock-arts) Rating: E Warnings: Gore, attempted suicide (OC, minor character, not too explicit), canonical minor character death, starvation, illness, sexual content, horror. Word Count: ~50k Pairing/main characters: Dream/Hob Gadling; Dream/Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Randall Burgess, Johanna Constantine, The Corinthian, Jessamy, Destiny, Mazikeen. Up to 10 Additional Tags: WWI, AU - Death captured by Roderick Burgess, Sandman-typical roadtrips, plot heavy, po-ta-toes, slow burn, I will show you fear in a handful of sand.

Summary:

In 1916, Roderick Burgess successfully summons Death, and Hob Gadling wakes up in no-man’s land alongside three dead soldiers.

Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49615189 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48305038

[competitionoutoftheway]

9 BOOKS I PLAN TO READ IN 2025

yayy thank you for tagging me @magicinavalon ☺️☺️🥰🥰 so much fun!!

tagging @toffee-and-tandoori @writtenmemxries @clytemnestraaa @gayeddietruther @butchsaint and anyone else who wants to, but no pressure love you all <3

[emryses]

last things game / ten people i'd like to get to know better

tagged by @postmodernau for last things @babyseraphim for getting to know me better, but they had the same questions so! thank you both!!

last song: defying gravity from the wicked movie heheh

favorite color: purple!!! 💜💜💜

last book: last book i finished was fellowship of the ring. last book i read anything of was the two towers, lol.

last movie: watched "hot frosty" with some friends last night and it was just as bad as you would think

last tv show: i haven't watched tv in a few days so i do legitimately think it was a random ep of dead boy detectives.

sweet/spicy/savory: i'm on my period rn give me ANYTHING sweet and chocolate PLEASE i am begging

relationship status: single & hating dating apps

last thing i googled: "its a boulder"

because last night i had an audio bite stuck in my head and i couldn't figure it out and i was wandering about my apartment like a crazy person muttering "you're not a blank, you're a blank" to myself over and over again and feeling out of my mind because i couldn't figure out what i was thinking of and then today i remembered it was from spongebob.

current obsession: so..................... there are these two Dead Boys......

looking forward to: getting a Much needed haircut this weekend.

v low pressure tags for @queerofthedagger @magicinavalon @insane-ohwhyfandoms

@kairenn-n @grimweathers @idliketobeatree

[queerofthedagger]

Fuck, marry, kill: Flint, Steve Harrington, Arthur Pendragon 🥰

fuck arthur marry steve kill flint, more or less the same reasoning as for eva you can't HURT me by making me choose 🥰

[woodlandrealm]

now, this is love @magicinavalon

[merlinbingo]

Ya'aburnee, Halsey by magicinavalon Ship: Elyan/Gwaine Main Characters: Gwaine, Elyan Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: elyan, gwaine, elyaine, halsey, ya'aburnee Summary: A photoset of Elyan and Gwaine with the lyrics of Halsey's Ya'aburnee.

- Ya'aburnee, Halsey

for @merlinrarepairfest and @merlinbingo

[kairennart]

Post-battle Maedhros and Fingon for @magicinavalon <3

[tolkienpinupcalendar]

Sluttiest Tolkien Character: Round 4

Aragorn vs Finrod

art by @magicinavalon

Propaganda under the cut ↓

Aragorn:

Legolas, boromir, faramir, ofc arwen, eowyn, even denethor.. who HASNT he been shipped with? Also he’s hot so, it makes sense that he’s getting it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Opening both doors at helms deep, what was the need except for the drama and to slut it up

Finrod:

I MEAN LOOK AT HIM ?? Jewelry ? Music ? Rap Battle against Sauron ? Getting friendly with humans as soon as he meets them

That man is draped in jewellery in almost every art made, you can't tell me he wouldn't enjoy laying around with only that jewelry and nothing else on him, being admired by everyone around.

Hair, style, the way he just took a crown, also he's definitely the sluttiest in his family. Galadriel is the tough one

He has a recorded relationship/engagement in Aman. Then, after that fell apart, we all know that Finrod was really into anthropology and ~maintaining relationships~ with the kindreds of the secondborn and the dwarves. He's known for keeping all these ~close personal~ relationships.

He just goes up to a human campfire and starts singing. Show-off move. More than that, hippie-at-a-music-festival move. You know what hippies do at music festivals? When they're high on love and peace and roughing it through nature to get to the music festival (and whatever other elvish cordials with Magical Special Restorative Effects they've brought)? They fuck. Then he invites Beor back to his home and gives him a ring and promises to care for all his descendents ever after? Finrod not only fucks, his heart is all slutty with affection. He's a slutty kingdom-ruler, too. Nargothrond's supposed to be a secret, but he just can't keep those doors closed. And then there's a substantial amount of of Finrod/Curufin art and fic. Scandalously slutty! Your own cousin-lover cucking your kingdom out from under you! Finally: you know that in several places in Aman and Middle Earth, some young people got their kink awakening seeing vaguely-erotic etchings of Finrod wrestling the werewolf. You know this.