silmarilled

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lol this is so true. and also really cool in a way i could never explain to anyone who isn't Like This

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they knew what they were doing with this scene

that is 1000% intentional “oh his shirt just slid” nah they know we’re a bunch of horny mfs

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“Time does not bring relief; you all have lied” - Edna St. Vincent Millay

(transcript under the cut)

Keep reading

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@sungsilver 👀👀

Who wants to their character to be psychologically tortured by feanor

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countdown to season 8 (3/10): favorite battle       “I fought worse than Ramsay Bolton.”

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Who wants to their character to be psychologically tortured by feanor

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for the love of galadriel: 11/∞

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Clarice Lispector, from An Apprenticeship or, The Book of Delights written in 1969

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I’m fully riding the feanor is obsessed w One (1) person and 3 gems and he’s not going to chaaaaaange!

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ah, so that's his plan is it? this little lord who plays at some mighty wisdom. i have seen all the ages of this world, faced morgoth in battle, wrought the works of our kind spoken of throughout every age of middle earth, revered and respected and feared. with whom could he share this burden?

"what you see as hostility, i see as pride in our place in this world." the grin turns discerning and fëanor steps into a circle around elrond, slowly pacing around him, observing and finding this veritable boy wanting. "to reach a hand down to someone, they must first be beneath you. and i am beneath no-one. not my little brother, not your precious gil-galad, and certainly not you, lord half-elf. ever the valar would appear so omnipotent and everlasting, but where were they when morgoth broke his vow of repentence? some have likened me to his ilk but i have sworn no such vow. i break no faith."

a beat. he pauses in his pacing. "what of you, little lordling? you were a ruler of a kingdom once, were you not? i have heard tell of your mighty deeds and fair judgement - what does your heart desire?"

Fëanor remained an untempered flame, burning as hot as his forge. In a way it was beautiful, that one could remain so steadfast and stay true to their own nature. If only he were not such a dangerous man and still far too eager to spill elven blood. Elrond met the disconcerting grin with a concerned frown.

King Finarfin would have to step up soon and accept the inevitable truth - Fëanor needed to either be forced into submission, or he would rise above them all and rule over them, unchallenged.

The best solution in Elrond's eyes would be for Fëanor and his brother to share the burden of ruling. A truce, offering stability and combining Fëanor's strength and spirit with Finarfin's wisdom and popularity.

It had never been effective when Elves had crippled themselves with infighting, whether it was here or in Middle-earth. Only by standing as one and working with all peoples of Arda had they been able to defeat Sauron and vanquish the darkness.

"We are stronger together than we are apart. Imagine what you and lord Finarfin could do if you shared the high crown. The beauty you could create with your combined magnificence. It would also put an end to the hostilities between your subjects and no one need give their lives."

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it is a boon, they say. a drop of grace in a sea of escalating fear, doubt and frustration; ten thousand years chained in a cage and still he will not give them an ounce. they condemned him to eternity in the halls, forever restless, doomed and damned never to return to the golden shores of valinor until the dagor dagorath. he cannot fathom their explanation for his release. it was not told, even to those who possess the gift of foresight, and so this unpredictability works to fëanor's advantage. how could he be expected not to use the opportunity?

his father is gone and there is none who might step into the mantle. finarfin flounders, as ineffectual as he had been all those years ago when offered a choice of freedom or servitude. he chose to slavery to faceless monotony, while fëanor chose a fate of his own making. he would not be forced to regret stepping into his own path.

he stills wears his armour. studded hide, leather undershirt, dressed as much as he had in the days before his reckonining. if they wanted him to be softer, they should have tempered their expectations.

"wise words, half-elven," he says, sly and grinning. "i do not need them to bow to me. i only need them to die for me."

@silmarilled : the throne will go to the one who has the strength to seize it. ❜

After his arrival in Valinor, Elrond had visited every royal court with great interest, excited and blessed to meet many of his relatives. No other race could fathom just how complicated elven politics were. Men and Dwarves were used to clear lines of successions. Old rulers died, leaving the crown for their heirs and other branches of their families to quarrel over.

Elves had lines that dwindled at first, but were rekindled by the restoration of those lost. After their tenure in the Halls of Mandos, they returned with claims that were their right in life, clashing against the claims of those currently in power.

The exception were Elrond's mortal ancestors, who had sadly vanished not to return again. They would have undoubtedly enjoyed to add to the complexity and chaos of the line of succession.

It was clear that mere Kings were not enough any longer. The lines had progressed and mingled too far. What Valinor needed was a High King. King Finwë was still missing, High King Ingwë resided on Taniquetil and nobody had answered Elrond's question when he asked who would be best suited as High King. But there was clear tension, gnawing at the many rulers in these fair lands.

When Elrond had suggested Ereinion Gil-galad, his High King and the only King who shall have Elrond's full support and loyalty, Gil-galad himself had declined, even if deeply moved by Elrond's undying loyalty.

And that was before Fëanor returned, much to great surprise, anger and anticipation. It was like Lindon in the second age all over again, where Elvendom required a High King who knew to unify many proud houses. Elrond doubted Fëanor was the right candidate for such a task, as there was no other Elf as polarizing as him. Elrond also doubted that Fëanor would go down without a fight.

"You have your supporters, my lord. But just as many detractors, if not more. They will not bow to you, even should you dominate them. I foresee an unrest that should be prevented."

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fëanor grins and spreads his arms wide, victory, the first conversation he's had in what feels like decades. may well have been decades - the only person who talks to him here is námo and it is always lacking. always circling around a topic, forever scratching at the wounds that have festered for millennia and will continue to do so for as long as he continues to show so little remorse. and for what does he have to be remorseful for? leading his people to a world of their own making? for seeking out morgoth in an effort to be rid of him?

"ah, so you know who i am. and i have wronged someone dear to you perhaps? no one is sent to my little cage without reason. perhaps it is a lesson? though for whom, you or me, i wonder."

Nàmo’s halls were strange and winding. Doors seemed to go nowhere, corridors appeared and seemed to shift once one was inside them. He cared little for coming here - but, Galadriel’s brother was still here, and he visited him on occasion.

‘Perhaps he might be cajoled back to the land of the living,’ Finarfin would say whenever he or another of his family would go to visit. He was always disappointed, but Celeborn saw something of Celebrían in Finarfin, and so he could not refuse his father in law anymore than he could refuse his daughter.

It had been a mistake to come today, however. Nàmo seemed to be in the mood for games.

Celeborn, upon seeing Feanor, turned to leave, only to find that the door from whence he came had disappeared. Typical.

He grit his teeth and turned back, silver eyes glancing the Noldo over.

“You have not wronged me.” He responded. “I’m quite sure we’ve never met.”

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THE SEVEN SONS OF FËANOR

MAEDHROS | MAGLOR | CELEGORM | CARANTHIR | CURUFIN | AMRAS & AMROD.

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@registxr / celeborn.

in the darkness of the halls of mandos, there is little to argue with but the shadows and the sconces, the flames licking the stone peacefully and unending; part of the torture, he supposed. the boredom. námo visits infrequently - in ten thousand years, he has yet to see the face of anyone not his directly of his kin. once his brothers, a handful of times his wife, only three of his sons. there is a sweetness in it as much as there can be; if only to soothe the swell of frustration that rears.

he does not recognise the stranger who comes one evening though his eyes and countenance seem familiar; some wronged son of some slaughtered house or barely remember lesser bannerman. fëanor has lost track of the names and faces of all those he killed.

"speak if you must. tell me all the ways in which i have wronged you, ser."

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THE SEVEN SONS OF FËANOR

MAEDHROS | MAGLOR | CELEGORM | CARANTHIR | CURUFIN | AMRAS & AMROD.

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fëanor maps the shape of her nose and the swell of her lips, the dip at the base of her throat, the swell of her breasts wrapped in dark blues and swathed gold, he watches the heave of her as she shouts against the howling wind and thunder of his indifference. how long have they been bound to one another? how long has she been squealing like a stuck pig lost in the den of the viper?

"the gods made sheep so wolves could eat mutton. they made the weak for the strong to conquer," his voice is suddenly low, menacing, and he stalks upon her in short and tempered strides. he feels akin to a cat on the prowl - there is blood under his nails.

"you see me, you say, that you know me. perhaps that was true once. or perhaps you listen to closely to the idle prattle of my little brothers," idly, he toys with the end of an errant curl hanging across her shoulder. "there will be a reckoning in aman - you have seen it, have you not? but darkness is not the absence of light, but the evidence of it."

" I SEE EVERYTHING !! AND I AM HAUNTED, FOR I SEE ONLY DARKNESS !! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I HAVE BEEN FORCED TO PERCEIVE BY - " the words die a swift death, sentence left unfinished. it was no secret that she saw things yet to unfold. a gift from the valar, so it has been said. it had always been this way and was nothing some praised it to be. always he spoke of his frustrations, yet what of hers? had he bothered to listen to her when attempting to share her own complicated feelings regarding the valar, when all he had heard was that she was not against them? no. he drew his conclusions and stuck to them, however wrong.

as if it were impossible to still have quarrel with what was not hated. and oh it was. it was for they had given her foresight and called it a blessing, when it was just as much a curse. a cruelty, a cause of suffering especially now when these changes brought her nothing but images filled with dread and terrible things.

how much more did she have to struggle? who was this man, this stranger, and what had he done to her husband? where had he gone? would there ever be a day he would return to her and not batter her heart, bringing it closer to shattering with each word, each action?

" speak plainly then. go on. you leave your admission like a breadcrumb hidden within your words and you know i know what it is you allude to …. you treat me cruelly, husband, but i can be just as cruel as you. i could retaliate. i should. but i do not, because i love you and i will not subject you to what i endure from you. " oh the things she could say to him. it would only take one sentence, and it would hit him there in the midst of his heart. or whatever was left of it. something undeniably cruel ; something about these attentions given to artanis and how remarkably like his father he was becoming, to be giving his attentions to another so freely. to the point where even others began to perceive something grossly amiss with his conduct.

but she was still nerdanel the wise. and even in this anger and agony, no careless words would be thrown around. nothing that could be regretted when looking back on this moment.

" why do you do this? you shut me out, then blame me for not understanding and not asking, when you do not give me a chance to do so. i attempt discussion and conversation, as we have always done, and yet you dismiss me the moment i say something that does not perfectly align with your vision. i am trying! i have been trying all along but you keep pushing me away!! you act as if i am your enemy, but i am not!! i am your wife!! "

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devoted, yearning & obsessive

❝ you occupy my thoughts. day and night, even in dreams you're there. i want you to never stop haunting me. ❞

❝ i am eternally yours. until the stars go out. and maybe, even after that. ❞

❝ my heart bleeds the color of your soul. i would cut it out and put it in your palms if i could. ❞

❝ it's like you have knit yourself around my ribs. i could no more cut you out than i could remove my own lungs. ❞

❝ you are woven into my soul and i dare not cut a single thread. ❞

❝ i am yours, body and soul, to do with as you wish. ❞

❝ i don't require you to love me back, or to care for me as i do you. only let me be here, let me devote myself to you. that would be enough. ❞

❝ i want to trap your smile in a bottle and take it out when no one else can see. ❞

❝ you belong to me and i to you. ❞

❝ do not look away from me. i cannot bear it when i do not occupy your vision. ❞

❝ i will follow you. to the ends of the earth, to the very gates of hades and whatever might lay beyond. ❞

❝ i will always be here. no matter how far you go you can always come home to me. ❞

❝ tell me all the places you have been hurt, every rejection, every scar. let me love you in all the places where you have burned. ❞

❝ i will not ever let you go. ❞

❝ you cannot escape this. you cannot run away from the love we share. ❞

❝ what we have is deeper than words could capture. ❞

❝ i will be anything you desire. i pluck out the parts of me you find distasteful and stuff your love in the craters left behind. ❞

❝ tell me what you wish of me and i will do it. ❞

❝ i could spend all day merely watching the air in your lung. i would count every blink. i would cherish every sigh from your lips. i could watch you merely exist for the rest of my life. ❞

❝ don't let go of me. i think if you lost me i would die. ❞

❝ i will cut out the tongues of every man who has wronged you. ❞

❝ i wish i could crawl inside you and make a home out of the hollows of your bones. ❞

ACTIONS:

WATCH: for sender to watch receiver sleep.

WATCHED: for sender to wake up and find receiver watching over them.

DISCOVER: for sender to find a journal full of sketches receiver made of them and sender finds them looking at it.

DISCOVERED: for receiver to find a journal full of sketches receiver made of them.

FOLLOW: for sender to stalk receiver, claiming they're doing it to protect them.

FOLLOWED: for receiver to stalk sender and claim they're protecting them.

GOING: for sender to take receiver to a secluded cabin for a romantic getaway.

GONE: for receiver to take sender to a secluded cabin for a romantic getaway.

SACRIFICE: for sender to kill someone who wronged receiver as a grand gesture.

SACRIFICED: for receiver to kill someone who wrong sender as a grand gesture.

CAUGHT: for sender to catch receiver staring at them.

CATCHING: for receiver to catch sender staring at them.

REVEAL: for sender to slowly undress themselves while receiver watches, but doesn't touch.

REVEALED: for receiver to slowly undress themselves while sender watches, but doesn't touch.

BATHE: for sender to bathe receiver, meticulously and tenderly as if serving them.

BATHED: for receiver to bathe sender, meticulously and tenderly as if serving them.