What do you think would be the final push to bella drinking blood as a vampire? Do you even think she could get to that point?
"The final push"
I'll put it like this.
Canonically Bella is told Edward intentionally left the diet for four years, not out of any real reason but because he wanted tastier snacks, and was neither particularly condemning of this action or introspective about it. She hears about how all the Cullens have slipped (save Rosalie and Carlisle) and isn't too condemning of that either.
More damningly, she chooses to become a vampire, when told repeatedly by many sources that this guarantees she will slip at eat someone. Oh, sure, she doesn't want to and she does end up very lucky--but a little unluckier and she'd be eating a hiker and her father within the first week of turning.
Ultimately, the possibility of eating people even on accident wasn't one Bella found off-putting enough to be swayed by.
"I'm okay with that," is what Bella essentially says.
I could see Bella getting careless, assured that her control is so good so early she doesn't need to be worried, then someone scrapes their knee for the first time in front of her and it's light's out.
Otherwise, I'd say it's when Bella loses faith in the Cullen family. If the family splinters on her, then rejecting the diet is a way that she can reject them.
Bestie, every time I try to reblog tfs the tumblr app kicks me off 😒 so this is my spiritual reblog to let you know- OUCHIE. The fact that everything is falling apart at the seams is astounding.
Weird, loads of people have said that for the latest part! I’ll make a new post for part 21 I think. Anyway thank you so much ❤️❤️ I did decide to just derail. everything. (Or rather Curvo did blame him)
5 times Person A called Person B beautiful + 1 time Person B called Person A beautiful for Curufinrod please :) for the prompt ask
Ohhhh I like this one! The angst potential is simply beautiful, plus it's been so long since I've properly tried writinng Curufinrod.
From this prompt list.
5 times Person A called Person B beautiful + 1 time Person B called Person A beautiful
1.
Curufinwë is still an apprentice under his father the first time he meets Findaráto.
They meet in Tirion's market at around midday. Curufinwë had been sent off to find some quality silver by his father and was still perusing the options when he had bumped unceremoniously into the young Teler.
"Ow! Look where you going," he muttered, rubbing his head where it had made hard contact with the other's collar bone.
"Apologies." His voice had been soft and gentle and high in a soothing sort of way.
Curufinwë looks up and can feel a hot blush creeping up his neck. The elf in front of him has golden hair and brilliant blue eyes and the sort of smile that makes his knees weak.
"You're beautiful," he says before his mouth connects with his brain.
Shit.
Curufinwë contemplates the logistics of sinking into the ground and curses the fact that while he has his father's face, he has his mother's ability to turn bright red at a moment's embarrassment.
Through some intervention of Eru himself, the stranger didn't seem to here his stray comment, as he brushes himself off and checks for injury.
"I'm sorry," he says once he has finished, looking up at Curufinwë with eyes so bright and piercing it makes Curufinwë's face threaten to burn up again, "I wasn't looking where I was going - I must admit it's my first time in Tirion and I might have got a little overawed."
Curufinwë clears his throat, willing down the heat in his cheeks as he dusts off the front of his tunic again. He avoids eye contact.
"Well," he says, sharper than he might have been usually, "you should keep your eyes more to yourself. You will not be able to look at anything if you trip over a pothole and hit your head."
The elf's smile widens and shows the hint of teeth as he laughs. "Thank you for your advice. Might I know your name, kind stranger?"
"Atarinkë," Curufinwë says because his amilessë is not widely known and even though it feels like he has lost all his mental capacities during this conversation, something of his brain remains.
"Artafindë, I believe is my name in Quenya," the stranger says and gives him a polite bow.
Curufinwë returns it, although it is shorter and a little more abrupt. He's still a bit embarrassed even if he had managed to avoid total social ineptitude. "Goodday then Artafindë, I have shopping I need to be doing lest my father come and see what has become of me."
"Of course. Later, then, Atarinkë."
"Later," Curufinwë agrees even as he wishes that he never has to see the other elf's face again, even if just to save his pride.
2.
They are both living in Tirion when adulthood hits them both properly.
Despite their first meeting, Curufinwë finds that Findaráto (for that is how he really prefers to be called) likes to hang around him, despite his multitude of other friends who are much nicer to him.
So now Curufinwë finds that he must deal with Findaráto sitting in the corner of the forge, chatting his ear off, as Curufinwë works.
And maybe, recently, Curufinwë had been working on a more...personal project that the work he does for his father and guild.
It's delicate work, setting jewels and making chains when most of what Curufinwë does is a good deal more on the experimental side, but it is worth it when Curufinwë interrupts his spiel on a bardic dispute in Alqualondë.
"What do you think?" He asks, holding up the earrings to the light. They're made of gold and yellow diamond and they sparkle in the firelight.
Findaráto's eyes go wide, and Curufinwë feels a little smug for how well he knows him.
"They're stunning." His face closes off abruptly. "Rinwendë will love them."
Right, Rinwendë.
Curufinwë's betrothed.
The one he's meant to be in love with.
"They're for you."
Findaráto looks taken aback a moment before his expression melts.
"Thank you, 'Rinkë," he whispers, taking a step forward to let Curufinwë help him put them in.
Curufinwë can feel Findaráto's breath on his neck as they get closer; his pulse kicking against the heel of his hand; the softness of his hair.
He should step back, out of Findaráto's space, but he cannot bring himself to move.
"They look good on you," he says although all he can think is how Findaráto hasn't stepped back either. "You look beautiful, as always."
Findaráto smiles, all bright and beaming, and turns away to find a mirror. Curufinwë sharply curbs the disappointment that rears it's head.
"Oh they do look good. You have quite the eye for this."
Not usually. Curufinwë doesn't make jewellery as a general rule but Findaráto...
Well, he was an inspiration to a lot of people. He was that sort of person.
3.
The bench in the castle courtyard is hard and cold in the pale light of Telperion. Curufinwë doesn't mind: it gives him time to think away from the stuffy, loud ballroom and all the people.
"What are you doing all the way out here?"
Well then, not all the people.
"Just finding some peace Ingoldo. The ballroom was getting too loud."
There's a rustle of fabric and then Findaráto is sitting next to Curufinwë on the bench.
"And that's it?"
Curufinwë turns to look at him, all wide-eyed and waiting for Curufinwë to reveal his lifes greatest secrets.
"That's it. Don't think I'm letting everything slip for you just because you'r'e beautiful."
Findaráto smiles in the dim light. "But how about because I'm your friend?"
"It's nothing, really Ingo. Just...please leave it be."
Curufinwë tries not to feel guilty for how much like a kicked puppy Findaráto looks like. "Are you sure?"
"Go back to the party. I'm sure there are people missing you there."
Curufinwë almost calls after him, as he leaves, to come back.
Almost.
4.
Curufinwë is getting married.
Rinwendë is lovely, she understands him and he understands her, but neither of them loves the other quite right.
And he's marrying her.
It's the right thing to do: they might not be best suited for each other but they both want children and they are friends and their parents think it's a wonderful idea and-
The door opens and Curufinwë straightens up involuntarily.
But it's not his father.
"What are you doing all the way up here?" Findaráto asks, shutting the door behind him with a click. "Aren't you being married in less than half an hour?"
"Thank you for your input Findaráto." Curufinwë tangles his fingers into his still unbraided hair and begins to work, pretending to ignore Findaráto as he starts to look around his bedroom before settling on the bed to watch Curufinwë work.
Findaráto doesn't take the bait. "Would you like help with your hair?"
"I'm fine," Curufinwë says just as his fingers get confused and he has to drop the braid.
Curufinwë tries to ignore how close Findaráto is, tries to think of anything else other than his finger at his scalp and the heartbeat Curufinwë thinks he can hear: his or Findaráto's, he doesn't know.
It takes Findaráto nearly ten minutes but then he is finished and Curufinwë is bedecked in red and gold.
"I can see why you're always so beautiful," he says appreciatively and thinks that the compliment will distract himself from the very real fact that he is marrying the wrong person to appease his father.
"Yes, well, today is your day." Findaráto smiles his beaming smile and takes a step back, taking his warmth with him.
Curufinwë doesn't shiver.
5.
Curufin isn't enjoying himself. Parties were always the domain of his eldest brothers and this Mereth Aderthad is the biggest party Curufin has attended since before the Exile.
"It's a nice night for it," Finrod says, appearing at Curufin's side.
Curufin hates him, just a little bit, for how nonchalant he is - how forgiving he is - when anger would be a much more understandable response to so much of the suffering he had gone through at the hands of the Fëanorian host.
"It's fine, I suppose."
"Nice people too. You should try and socialise some more, you might find someone interested in your craft. You could learn something."
"You are missing the fundamental point that I do not want to. I am here only because Maedhros requested it and for no other reason." He takes a sip of the drink Maglor had given him a moment ago as he flitted away to seduce someone else, and grimaces at the bitter taste.
Finrod takes it out his hand. "Curufin, you should at least try."
"Well it's all very well and good for you to say: you're beautiful and charming and easy to get along with. I don't do that."
"You do. You just don't like that you do because it makes you think of your father." Finrod gives him a very straight look that makes Curufin feel like curling in on himself. "You can be charming and not be exactly like him."
"Thanks for your psychoanalysis." Curufin throws back the rest of the disgusting drink in an attempt to quell the feeling of guilt and anger and being very small indeed that Finrod is currently making him feel. "I'm going to find Maglor to get more of this...delightful concoction.
+ 6
"It's a fool's errand," Curufin says, the moment the door shuts behind him. Finrod doesn't look up from his packing.
"I swore an oath knowing what it would mean Curufin." It's not meant as a snide comment - Finrod doesn't do that when he digs into his insecurities, he does it quite openly. "I don't want to deal with your pettiness."
"It's not pettiness Ingoldo, it's a fact. You must know there's no chance of you returning here."
"And Orodreth will make a good king. He is calm and fair-"
"And he won't be able to deal with an enraged Celegorm."
Finrod buttons up his bag. "Then you shall have to deal with him."
"I don't control my brother."
Finrod turns to Curufin, his face tight. "We both know you can if you wish to."
"Maybe I don't wish to."
"Curvo, don't be stupid."
"I'm not the one being stupid here."
Finrod has made his way forward, and now he's so close that Curufin can feel his breath against his skin.
"Step out of the way Curufin."
"No. You're being a fool and I shan't let you."
They meet each others eyes. Finrod is examining him, analysing him for weakness, but Curufin has none. He knows he's right and he can get what he wants if he's stubborn enough.
At least, that's what he thought.
He hadn't been expecting Finrod's hands to snake up to the back of his neck and for him to kiss him.
Finrod's lips are warm and soft and taste faintly of honey. It's far better than any of Curufin's wildest fantasies that he forgets, for a moment, why Finrod had done it at all.
"You're beautiful," Finrod murmurs against Curufin's lips as he slowly pulls away. "Please don't ruin it."
I think Thingol gets treated pretty unfairly. I think he's a pretty reasonable character - right up until he goes a little Silmaril-mad at the end, but he's hardly the only one. I occasionally see takes like 'He denied Noldor refugees' but I don't recall any of that in the text ¯\ (ツ) /¯. I think most of his decisions are pretty reasonable and are no better or worse than those made by other characters. I think the Sindar army being at the Nirnaeth would have made absolutely no difference.
2 for 1 since it's related: I also think Eol is one of the most interesting characters in the text and I would love to see more Eol content - I do get why he isn't exactly a favourite, but I think he's fascinating.
🔮You can reach into the Beyond and ask the Professor to settle one (1) debate for you. He won’t even waffle on the answer, honest. What do you ask him?
I don't really have a serious answer because I can't think of anything in particular that is 'unanswered' so I would ask him something stupid like where do Hobbits go when they die
For the wip game! How about sobbing and or please? :)
I have one for both!!
Sobbing:
The Silmarils sit warm in Ivárë’s hands and she wants to start sobbing again.
Ok so this is from a time travel au starring Nibenaes and Ivárë who are my absolute favourite OCs - Dagor Dagorath goes badly but instead of their eventual deaths, the two of them steal away with the Silmarils and accidentally time travel to when the Finwëan cousins are still really young. Chaos then ensues.
Please:
“Like when Tyelkormo ran off to join the hunt? And all of Tirion got into a tizzy because for a week, because there had been a genuine fear he’d been abducted?” Maitimo shakes his head. “Please don’t do that, I don’t think my poor heart could stand it.”
This is from the fic I'm hoping to post on Monday for Maedhros, it's gonna be twelve little snippet-y bits from my Twelve is a Lucky Number AU which all focus on Maedhros - this particular line is from a conversation he has with his eldest sister Cíllas.
