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" I've gone for not yet a decade and you've off and upped your human kills to fill the century. "
* / @velkaya
❛ Mhm. The lack of a nagging mother truly was a taste of freedom. You know, we’ve still a large supply of human flesh. If you’re hungry, that is. ❜
❛ what is it about swords that turns men into utter fools ? ❜
meme * / @velkaya
❛ The thrill of the kill , the sweet song of steel , the beckon of blood , the scent of death , the rotting feeling of power in which taking a life with your very own hands brings ... ❜ He listed almost idly , eyes far away as he thoroughly cleaned his lute of the blood spilled on it . ❛ But how do I know ? I’m a bows man myself . ❜
looks down at Eldain in 6'10" (◕‿◕✿)
send me shit to ease my suffering * / @velkaya
Who thought it was a good idea to design you
@velkaya [ MOVED TO BETA ]
𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒. from one moment to the next, fury-storm ceased, everything ... quiet. blood drips red. one can barely tell it his, amidst the spatters on metal and cloth. after their struggle follows silence, standing in shock, and at last her blade is no longer clean.
it feels foreign, lodged in his stomach. his hand comes to grip it ere he can think.
severed is whatever last strand of hope held for the union with his betrothed. though tied by opposite ends of her sword, there is an ocean between them. no sound of pain could encompass the agony of his heart, pierced more deeply than his flesh. his exhale is loud in his ear, slow and seemingly neverending. eyes of piercing blue blown wide, and his fingers tighten their hold, as though by some miracle it would make all this undone.
❛ naurien ––– ❜ forgot is the sweet tune of loving names, slashed and bloodied in the wind. vindion's voice is raw, from shouting, against the winds, against their foes, against his lover. the name might nigh be lost to manwë's fury, beating still about them, for indeed eä does not halt for their agonies. the great houses move, and in the path fates are cleaved apart.
❛ thou wouldst turn thy sword against me ? ❜ the taste of blood is iron on his tongue, yet as a statue stands súriwë of tirion, frozen amidst carnage of his own creation.
thou wouldst abandon me thus ?
@velkaya / ❛ stab. stab my muse. / loud & deafening silence / súriwë
once one came to hear the roaring of the sea, to view the pristine ivory of the swan fleet, intricate craftsmanship. in the air then was a song of prosperity and peace. now the powers that be weave a different melody, and white shines through only in splotches between pools of crimson. o’ divine cause ! the gods have turned against them, and so have their kin, only to pay the price. the king slain ––– he follows the call of the new crown, as was ever his destiny. it should have been hers, too.
in his memory, fresh still, naurien frozen amidst carnage: a clean blade shining bright. what might bring such terror to a valiant soul, a warrior destined for glory ! what might raise her voice in fury, against an equal, a companion, a ...
a hand extended in a plea: bloodstained fingers reach as though to bring reason. ❛ my heart ... why do you stand against me ? ❜ fire and fury, tuned down to but an ache. ❛ it is not yet too late, but the ships will not wait, naurienya. ❜ urgency, the wish to leave, to cross the seas and continue this path of vengeance with a fire kindled by an oath sworn readily. it is as though he knows her no longer, those eyes so familiar now suddenly strange, burning with a different flame. she reaches and for a moment he believes to have succeeded, that his betrothed might follow at last the call of their people and take into her hand his own.
through the silk beneath his armour: a blade. more blood mingles with that of those slain, indiscernible in colour yet treacherously hot. for a moment súriwë but stands in awe, bright blue eyes wide in shock when a shaking hand finds hers, wrapped around the blade which pierces his abdomen. the only blood which stains her is his and in this there is her answer. the horn in the distance calls for the boarding of the ship, though the ñoldo but barely hears it. another betrayal: the knife is pulled back, leaves him to bleed, alone. not another word; finally something hardens in his gaze. thus her choice is made, and neither will stray from their path. fury and betrayal brew a dangerous potion, bubbling and boiling when at last he turns. to leave her behind.
the ring, he keeps. a silver band on a silver chain. perhaps naïve. perhaps in hope. with sea spray in the wind and a hand pressed to the freshly wrapped wound, vindion looks back one last time but it is too late. on the nightly horizon, there are only flames.
The golden light of Laurelin warms skin coated in a thin sheet of sweat, his tall stature bent forward slightly while he catches his breath. Her words bring a grin to his lips, stretching to bare an even row of teeth in a hint of mirth. Blue eyes seem to shine even brighter in the race’s exhilaration. As much as he mocks her, her feet carry her more swiftly than his do him, and she has pushed him to the very maximum. ❛ It would not do to best a lady in every competition, ❜ he teases, rising to full height once more. ❛ One victory I have granted you, expect no more. ❜
@velkaya / ❛ I was unaware that your crushing defeat was an act of charity. ❜ / súriwë / reign sentence prompts
@velkaya
❛ This is yours, I take it … ? ❜
@velkaya asked: “ i wish for happiness. ”
greatest showman starters
❛ DO NOT WE ALL? ❜ Words come with an easy smile, though, blue eyes brilliant —— ah, this young and reckless god with thunder in his soul. ❛ I have come to find it is not so hard to find if you know where to look. ❜ He's stubborn, this God of Thunder, and despite his travels in the stars yielding little of what he has sought, OPTIMISM and HOPE are ever clenched fiercely in his grasp.
Still, he gives a low, musing hum in his throat, wrist resting absently on the handle of that hammer as he regards her. ❛ What, then, would make you happy, had you to choose? ❜
