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Fingolfin, Nolofinwe 💙
There goes my Maedhros / Maitimo eldest son of Feanor 🥲❤️🔥
The death of Fëanor, from J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Silmarillion.
Curufin goes down on one knee infront of his son holding him:
Remember son be careful, keep your eyes open - I may not be with you all the time, but you've got to hold on.
Young Celebrimbor: uhm dad its just paintball
Curufin: yeah! And your uncles are vicious competetive bastards!
being a silmarillion fan is looking at a piece of fanart featuring forty different elves who all have the same shade of either black or gold hair and instantly being able to tell by their vibe who is who and which finwhatever is which
True 😄
The Silmarillion
Captive Prince in a nutshell
Laurent: *coldly* You killed my brother.
Damen: *Hornily* ...Wanna kill mine?
Yup, that sums it all up
(If anyone can name the artist, please send a message to me so I can tag them)
The Silmarillion with accurate chapter titles
Ainulindalë: What Happened At Band Camp Should Have Stayed At Band Camp
Valaquenta: Good Luck Remembering All These Names
Of The Beginning Of Days: Melkor Is Evil And Breaks Furniture
Of Aulë And Yavanna: This Creation Myth Was Obviously Written By Elves
Of The Coming Of The Elves And The Captivity Of Melkor: The Valar Decide To Do Something And Accidentally Destroy A Continent In The Process (1)
Of Thingol And Melian: Future Opponent Of Interspecies Marriage Marries Woman From Another Species
Of Eldamar And The Princes Of The Eldalië: Good Luck Remembering These Names Too, But At Least The City Is Called Tuna
Of Fëanor And The Unchaining Of Melkor: Abort Mission, Abort Mission
Of The Silmarils And The Unrest Of The Noldor: Fëanor Tells The God Of Chaos To Get Off His Lawn
Of The Darkening Of Valinor: Spiders Were A Mistake
Of The Flight Of The Noldor: Fëanor Was A Mistake
Of The Sindar: Meanwhile In Beleriand A Lot Happens But We Don’t Care
Of The Sun And The Moon And The Hiding Of Valinor: The Valar Have One Bright Idea
Of Men: Just Get To The Action Already
Of The Return Of The Noldor: A Series Of Unfortunate Diplomatic Incidents
Of Beleriand And Its Realms: The Geography Lesson Literally Nobody Asked For
Of The Noldor In Beleriand: Obvious Foreshadowing Is Obvious
Of Maeglin: Curufin Chooses The Worst Possible Moment To Not Be A Kinslayer
Of The Coming Of Men Into The West: Haleth’s Dad Is Called Haldad And That’s All You Need To Know
Of The Ruin Of Beleriand And The Fall Of Fingolfin: If You Thought This Would Have A Happy Ending You Haven’t Been Paying Attention
Of Beren And Luthien: Werewolf Cosplay And Unrealistic Relationship Goals
Of The Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad: If You Thought This Would Have A Happy Ending You REALLY Haven’t Been Paying Attention
Of Turin Turambar: Despite The Incest And Dragons This Is Not Game Of Thrones
Of The Ruin Of Doriath: Hurin Destroys Everything His Son Missed
Of Tuor And The Fall Of Gondolin: That’s What You Get When You Ignore Obvious Foreshadowing
Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath: The Valar Decide To Do Something And Accidentally Destroy A Continent In The Process (2)
Akallabêth: What Happened In Atlantis Should Have Stayed In Atlantis
Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age: Oh Good, Gandalf Is Here
This is 100% accurate! 😂😂
(...) "Tyelkormo, what troubles you?"
Celegorm sniffled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Maitimo and Macalaulë," he mumbled. "They are mean!"
Fëanor tilted his head slightly, a faint smile easing his stern expression. "Macalaurë," he corrected gently, emphasizing the proper pronunciation... ever the scholar.
"Macalaulë," Celegorm repeated, his attempt sounding much the same. His tears began to subside.
Fëanor chuckled. "Very well, Macalaulë it is," he conceded with amusement. “Tell me what mischief have your brothers done?”
Celegorm hesitated, then blurted, "They said Uncle Finarfin found me in a bear’s cave and offered me to you and amya!"
“Did they now?” "Yes!" Celegorm's hands clenched at his sides. "Why do people always mistake me for Uncle Finarfin's son? I hate it! Is it because he was the one who found me in the cave?" "Tyelkormo, no one found you in a cave—least of all Finarfin," Fëanor said, exasperated at the absurdity. "You were born of me and your mother. Do not let such foolishness trouble you." His fiery temper kindled at his elder sons’ thoughtlessness. He would see to their discipline in due time. For now, his focus remained on Tyelkormo.
Placing his hands gently on the boy’s small shoulders, he spoke with firm tenderness. "Listen to me, Tyelkormo. You are my son. A Fëanorian, through and through. Maitimo and Macalaurë may jest, but their words hold no truth. You resemble someone precious, certainly not Finarfin, but someone I carry in my heart always, though I seldom speak of her."
Celegorm blinked, curious. "Who?"
Fëanor’s gaze softened. "My mother."
“A king is he that can hold his own, or else his title is vain”, yes, Maedhros?
Vangelis - One Morning At Pella
Made as a thank you gift for Anita J. ❤️ for her Buymeacoffee donation. Thank you so much for your support and for reminding me about my beloved Macedonians. I deeply appreciate your support. I hope you like the pic.🫂🥰
Alexander and Hephaeston 🧡💛🤎
Captive Prince trilogy:
Laurent POV:
I knew who he was from the moment he arrived-or at least what I have heard about him.
My new pet Daimanos of Akielos
He proved me wrong. And I was so wrong.
How could this person be the same who killed my brother?
He was so much more than I imagined or what I heard about him through others. He could have killed me whenever he had the chance, but he didn’t.
I hate to admit that, when he wrapped his arms around me – it felt like a shield of safety, it was warm and tender as if he protected me from the world. His sincerity was so natural and just, yet he was adorable when he shied away- because I able to see through his innocent lies.
When he left – I felt a void like never before, not since I lost my brother August. No maybe even before, maybe I’ve always been this empty- and he fitted the right piece inside of me.
My heart was scattered on the floor like pieces of the mirror that I broke. I sat staring into nothing at myself for what felt like an eternity.
When I saw my reflection in the last part of the mirror that still hang on the wall, I realised that I was crying silently - I realised that I loved him. I loved Damen.
Achilles POV:
He completed me, he was everything I never was. I loved him with everything I had. I would be a hero who was happy, that was our secret– because he was with me. We were Together
And he was mine to protect. My Patroclus
Because he was half my soul. As the poets say.
Countless of nights I would wait for him to fall asleep, so I could turn over and memorize every part of his face in the darkness, pull in close enough to feel his breath mixed with mine .I would tangle my fingers in his brown curls carefully so I wouldn’t wake him up.
Patroclus.
I stood on the ridge waiting, my guts twisted like knots inside me. Where is he?
When they came back. When they...when they brought him.
His Lifeless body in front of me
No no ...please no, please no no no please
My were legs heavy – so heavy pulling me down to my knees, I took him in my arms. I shook him hard to wake him up.
I screamed the pain tearing through my lungs- like waves one after the other. Later I was told – my voice was echoed through out the beach. My throat was swollen, and my mouth tasted of blood.
Revenge was born in me, and it hungered only for one person. I closed my eyes, welcoming the rage at my very own words that was said so innocent once, tasted now like poison.
“What has Hector ever done to me?”
I was suffocating while breathing. My soul was been ripped apart repeatedly. And what value does my soul have without him? I don’t want it! Take my soul, please take it now! I don’t want the glorious death, let me die a coward here now, so I can see my Patroclus again.
I wept into exhaustion, holding his body for days.
I woke up beside him, hoping it was all a nightmare. I begged him to come back to me, and felt his echoing voice linger in our tent. His absence was suffocating me.
This was all my fault – Hades swallow me whole. And let Patroclus wander among the stars.
I am the coward – and he was the sun and stars shining ever so brightly.
He was the Hero. My salvation. My Patroclus
The Green Creek series
Mark POV:
If only he knew what he did to me the very first time I met him– Gordo Gordo Gordo
I didn’t know him yet, but I already knew that he will become my world. My mate.
Whenever I saw him, heard him or even caught the scent of him. It was always the same
Dirt, leaves and rain
I was in awe of him, he was so brave through it all.
The pain he endured to control his magic. He wore his tattoos like fucking rock star. And he was going to be mine.
There were still trails of it on his face, he did his best to hide it. But for some reason I could see right through him, through the tough facade he wore. It was still buried deep down in his soul- his love for me.
The moment when my brother decided to move to Caswell after he became the Alpha – and decided to leave Gordo behind in Green Creek- Will forever be imprinted in our history – the shattered hearts spread all over in our house. The rage that never left me since.
Thomas didn’t only break Gordo’s heart – he also broke mine. I was split in half, one wanted to stay here in Green Creek – the other to follow my Alfa. I was young I didn’t know better. And the mistakes that I made will forever haunt me.
I rarely spent time with Thomas, or Elizabeth or my nephews – I was out hunting alone.
And whenever Thomas tried to talk to me, my fists answered. One day it got out of hand, I came back from Green Creek after an endless fight with Gordo. I only blamed Thomas for this.
The wolf took over, I was on top of my brother before he tried to breath– he welcomed every punch.
He knew that my heart was shattered into pieces, because of his decision. He knew what I have lost over the years, even when I promised : “I will never give up on him”
(...) "Tyelkormo, what troubles you?"
Celegorm sniffled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Maitimo and Macalaulë," he mumbled. "They are mean!"
Fëanor tilted his head slightly, a faint smile easing his stern expression. "Macalaurë," he corrected gently, emphasizing the proper pronunciation... ever the scholar.
"Macalaulë," Celegorm repeated, his attempt sounding much the same. His tears began to subside.
Fëanor chuckled. "Very well, Macalaulë it is," he conceded with amusement. “Tell me what mischief have your brothers done?”
Celegorm hesitated, then blurted, "They said Uncle Finarfin found me in a bear’s cave and offered me to you and amya!"
“Did they now?” "Yes!" Celegorm's hands clenched at his sides. "Why do people always mistake me for Uncle Finarfin's son? I hate it! Is it because he was the one who found me in the cave?" "Tyelkormo, no one found you in a cave—least of all Finarfin," Fëanor said, exasperated at the absurdity. "You were born of me and your mother. Do not let such foolishness trouble you." His fiery temper kindled at his elder sons’ thoughtlessness. He would see to their discipline in due time. For now, his focus remained on Tyelkormo.
Placing his hands gently on the boy’s small shoulders, he spoke with firm tenderness. "Listen to me, Tyelkormo. You are my son. A Fëanorian, through and through. Maitimo and Macalaurë may jest, but their words hold no truth. You resemble someone precious, certainly not Finarfin, but someone I carry in my heart always, though I seldom speak of her."
Celegorm blinked, curious. "Who?"
Fëanor’s gaze softened. "My mother."
I sometimes think about Fingolfin being the sole Uncle looking after all his nephews/niece/kids. Like, there’s 16 children. Before taking the Helcaraxë he no doubt promised Finarfin that he would take care of them. And I feel like once he found out about Fëanor, and especially saw the state of Maedhros, he silently promised his half brother he’d do his best to look after them too. Not that he wasn’t going to anyway.
But the burden that must have been, especially with how volatile and independant all these kids are. Oh they might be grown. But he’ll never see them as such. Even now he remembers Nelyo’s birth and how the baby would toddle after him, crying when it was time to leave. Curvo going through all his mechanical devices, Turukano right behind him as Fingolfin explained where each came from and listened to the children tell him all about the workings. Carnistir carefully running little hands over the embroidery of his cloak, Anairë laughing quietly and explaining the techniques that went into it. Ambarussa and all the chaos they caused, enough so that Fëanor and Nerdanel would dump them at his house for days at a time, usually a couple of brothers tagging along. Tyelko and Irissë wrestling in the mud, neither group of parents knowing what to do when they trudged in, a sticky trail behind them.
Findekáno’s duets with Makalaurë, the little musician quietly asking to play before his uncle and cousin to make sure it was perfect before he showed his father. Finno, Nelyo, and Findarato encouraging him with whoops, Fingolfin and Anairë applauding with wide smiles at the end as he was swarmed by his cousins and brother. The four’s ‘secret’ sleepovers whenever they were in the same place. Aikanaro and Angamaitë raiding his kitchens, Fingolfin joining in with a finger on his lips, helping steal pastries in the middle of the night. Artanis insisting she could join in whatever game his boys were playing, Ireth backing her with a scowl until they were let in. Little Orodreth and his own Arakano, friends since birth. The screams of delight whenever they saw each other.
Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, he doesn’t know. All of them are now his children. He couldn’t stop the Fëanorions from taking the most dangerous lands because he had no argument to give. He can’t stop Turno and Ingo from making hidden kingdoms and taking Ireth and Artaresto with them. He couldn’t save little Arakano. He can’t stop Artanis hiding in Doriath, although he’s grateful at least one of his kids is safe… even if that safety comes with disowning the rest of her family.
He can’t even protect little Tyelpë and Itarillë who never asked for any of this.
So when the Dagor Bragollach comes and he hears Aegnor and Angrod are definitely dead, Curufin, Celegorm, and Celebrimbor might as well be for the trail of bodies leading to Doriath and the mass murder at the Girdle, Maglor’s land has been burned so far beyond recognition, they can’t even *find* bodies, Turgon, Idril, and Aredhel he wouldn’t even know if they were killed, and he hasn’t heard from Finrod in months-
He can’t.
So he makes a last ditch attempt because maybe, just maybe, he can make their battle the slightest bit easier. Give his kids if any of them survive a weakness to exploit. A slight advantage to turn the tables…
A stab to the foot does the trick. Morgoth will be limping on that one for millennia.
He hopes his brothers can forgive him.
Fingolfin 😭💙
Celegorm sighs, keeps staring at Oromë during a festival in Valmar, hosted by the Valar
Feanor: Are you seriously eyefucking a Vala right now?!
Celegorm: shut up! , I mean no?