a-contemplation-upon-flowers
A contemplation upon flowers
Tolkien-Fics Blog
This is my primary blog, my other blog is used for posting Tolkien Fics ♡
♡ Mina ♡ 24 ♡ Welcome to my blog were 95% of the posts are reblogs for random posts.♡ Tolkien and Anime lover ♡
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Reader writing her story:
Loving the Maelstrom
Pairing: Maedhros x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Perks of marrying a writer. Nelyafinwe pov.
AN: Istg I get the most random ideas while working out.
Curvo bounced the fussing Tyelpe in his arms, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.
Maitimo sighed for the what felt like the hundredth time that evening. He glanced across the room at you, your face lit by the flickering firelight. A vicious smirk was etched upon your lips, your eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as you stared into some unseen distance. "She's writing a villainess," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
The murmur seemed to quench everyone's curiosity, at least momentarily. Except for Tyelkormo, who perked up at the revelation. "A villainess?" he echoed, his eyes wide with fascination. "Is that why Kano's been playing such… ominous tunes lately?" he asked, directing his question towards a very tired-looking Nelyafinwe.
Before Nelyafinwe could muster a reply, Moryo, ever the impatient one, interjected. "Makalaure, for the love of Illuvatar, can we please have a normal tune?" he pleaded, his voice laced with exasperation
Both you and Kano paused for a fleeting second. Your minds snapped into the present world before grinning widely and Kano launched into another melancholy somber tune. This time, accompanied by your booming evil laughter.
Such perhaps was the fate of loving a writer. He had known it well as Kano’s brother. A songwriter and musician's angst was familiar to Maitimo. And yours was similar yet, so achingly different.
Where Kano’s music seldom bled into his life, your words lingered in a pervasive presence. The angst of separated lovers, fervor of a brewing war, or the grit of a dwindling hero, you were lost in your worlds even before Maitimo met you.
And when he did meet you, he also met your worlds. Gay, morose, bleak, grand, your worlds were his now. Your character settled into his thoughts. And sometimes, they carried a part of him or his family. Small fragments of your life that bled into your worlds.
He liked your never-ending ramblings about a crooked character or exceptionally hard-to-write down plot. And he witnessed your fall into the world who possessed your mind and heart.
Despite the differences in art, you and Kano were inseparable in the creation of art. His tunes often rang out from your and Maitimo’s home as you scribbled away another tale. While Kano’s music was given a direction of melodies from the stories you wove into the tunes he tinkered around with.
And this was the rare occasion where both you and his brother were taken by a story so bewitching that from the strums of Kano’s harp to the rouge of your lips- all was tainted with a lingering shade of sinister.
It had been a week since your robes had been swapped for uncanny dark silken gowns, very much not your usual choice of color, your nails were painted a hue darker almost bloodlike. Even the decor of your study had shifted ambiance similar to that of the Maiar of Namo.
On several occasions, Maitimo had seen you stir your dinner with a smile so venomous that he sniffed his food twice before eating it.
You donned a gait so seductive that he, almost was tempted to discard the weekly family dinner with his parents. Yet, despite the unease that gnawed at him, Maitimo couldn't deny the jolt of excitement that shot through him when your newly painted nails, tipped with a crimson that seemed to mock innocence, brushed against his arm.
“I just hope sister-in-law and Kano are not going down the Mairon route of life.” Curufin’s words brought Maitimo back to the present.
The dinner had ended surprisingly well. Kano’s company had perhaps allowed you to shed the world that captivated you these days for a few moments. You were back to your normal self smiling by his side. Helping his mother and brothers set up the dinner table as twins climbed all over Maitimo.
It was only later in the night when his breath shuddered. He gasped as your lips ghosted over his ears. Filthy words spoken without a care of the oddly lonely alley on the way back to your home. Words so daringly sacrilegious that they would have sent a Vanya to the halls of Irmo.
Maitimo however, was nothing if not immune to the intricacies of your play and definitely not a faint-hearted Vanya. Pulling you closer in his arms, he indulged your little world. Tracing the shape of your lips with his fingers, he kissed you with a wicked smile.
Nelyafinwe loved every part of you. Even the fucking crazy ones.
(This one definitely more than the angsty lovers)
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NEW DRAWING! but this time is High King of the Noldor Fingon.🦅🏹
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one thing i love about tumblr is that u become friends with people without even knowing their name/their face/their voice...........like....i love u because of your dumb little thoughts thank u for existing
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- He saw dancing turtles in pink dresses and a singing hippo, which was a bit strange to him, then he looked into your memories.
This is considered a very normal and accurate dream. Spot on 🤌
Not gonna lie, Anacalagon would revel in Halloween. Any chance to scare people and give them heart attacks 😂
Imagine befriending Ancalagon the black and telling him about halloween...
Hope you enjoy!
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- You were on your way to your grandmother’s house while there was a bad storm going around you.
- It started before you left, and your mom told you to go tomorrow, but you were determined to bring the pastries to your grandma today, so you left regardless of your mother’s warning.
- It was a bad storm, but that wasn’t an excuse to not deliver the pastries. Your grandma loved pastries and would get sad if she didn’t get them.
- You were walking on the mountain path, stumbling a bit due to the strong wind.
- It was also raining like hell.
Keep reading
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Fingon is the archetypical hero. He does great deeds of valor and daring, notably Maedhros’ rescue and rushing out to defeat Glaurung. He is not terribly afraid of consequences, which is wonderful when he is the only one he’s responsible for. His talent is forging ahead and inspiring everyone to follow him.
Fingolfin is the archetypical king. He is the one that holds his people together across the Helcaraxë and brokers peace with Maedhros after he’s rescued. He’s incredibly aware of every possible consequence, which is wonderful when he’s responsible for a whole kingdom. His talent is uniting everyone and inspiring them to move forward together.
When Fingolfin dies, he acts as the hero, not the king. He tries to borrow his son’s talent for incredibly inadvisable stunts, but it isn’t in his nature. He believes the Noldor are doomed, and thus dies in despair fighting Morgoth because he does not see another path forward, only defeat.
When Fingon dies, he acts as the king, not the hero. He tries to borrow his father’s talent for forging political unity, but it isn’t in his nature. The Nirnaeth’s forces are disunited from their conception to their defeat, and Fingon dies full of hope fighting Morgoth because he does not see any other path forward, only victory.
Fingolfin’s legacy was despair, though he left a lasting blow against Morgoth. Fingon’s legacy was hope, though he did not so much as touch Morgoth.
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Today's speed paint is a frankly indecent Feanor: no jewels, no braids, just flowy hair in the wind… I'm almost ashamed of myself! Maybe I should tag it NSFW? XD
I hope you don't mind too much <;
Prints and other stuff on my RedBubble and Threadless
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“This is bad” = negative statement
“This is ass” = negative statement
“This is bad-ass” = positive statement???
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Fanfic tiktok is wild... I see so many people saying shit like "I could never read anything below 60k!!", or "What story can you even tell in under 5k words?" or "A oneshot below 10k isn't even a story!" or "I always filter completed fics by 100k< only!"
And I'm like...
A) which fandoms are you reading fics for where you have this kind of offerings on the regular?
B) have you heard of short stories? If you truly think every story NEEDS to be longform to connect with people, I sincerely feel sorry for you.
C) Average novel length is between 50k to 100k. I'm sorry, but CONSISTENTLY demanding fic writers to push out fics of that length is insane. Just think about it: YOU DEMAND AUTHORS TO PUT OUT FICS THAT COMPARE TO COMMERCIAL NOVELS IN LENGTH (AND QUALITY) AS A BASELINE.
Yall are wilding.
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From One World to Another
Request: Please spin the wheel for Aegnor 🛐🥺
Pairing: Aegnor x Reader
Genre: Hogwarts au (yaaaay)
AN: Thanks for requesting 🥹I am befuddled by how well this fits (What in the Hell is Happening Event) Last day tmr
"The mudbloods are at it again," Celegorm snorted, a sneer twisting his perfect features. Aegnor rolled his eyes and glanced out the window, where you stood under the shade of a towering oak with your friend.
You were lost in one of those strange dances the humans called TikToks, your movements surprisingly graceful despite the odd rhythm.
Aegnor couldn't help but admire it. Unlike the elves, bound by tradition and cautious with their magic, humans like you embraced life with reckless abandon. He longed to understand that world, a yearning that gnawed at him despite his upbringing. A world he could only glimpse through stolen glances at the strange glowing device you called a phone.
Elves, with their long memories and deep respect for tradition, found themselves drawn to Slytherin. Though some outliers existed, like Elrond, a Ravenclaw scholar obsessed with elven lore, Slytherin's green banner often fluttered above elven dwellings.
Humans, with their fleeting lives, burned brighter. Gryffindor, the house of the brave, housed the vast majority. But there were exceptions – a cunning Hufflepuff pioneer known for his loyalty to his coven, and a Ravenclaw witch whose fascination with magical flora rivaled any elves.
This Gryffindor bravery, however, wasn't always viewed favorably by the elves. Many elven elders often scoffed at their recklessness, a stark contrast to the calculated actions favored by his people.
Dwarves, with their insatiable thirst for knowledge and mastery of craft, naturally gravitated towards Ravenclaw. Their halls echoed with debates on engineering marvels and the secrets hidden within the earth.
Finally, the Hobbits found a home in Hufflepuff. Their love for community, loyalty to their kin, and dedication to the simple pleasures of life resonated deeply with the house known for its badger sigil.
A pang of longing twisted within Aegnor. He yearned for a glimpse into your world, a world documented on those strange glowing rectangles humans called "phones." He knew it was a forbidden desire, an act frowned upon by most elves. Only his Uncle Feanor, a surprising and rare elven Gryfindor dared to dabble in such human contraptions.
Sitting in the back row, the only sliver of sunlight stubbornly fighting its way through a cracked window was Snape's nemesis. Aegnor sighed, flipping through his well-worn textbook filled with elven script that seemed to dance before his eyes.
The acrid scent of burnt Bubotuber pus mingled with the sweet aroma of gillyweed, a constant reminder of the strange concoctions brewing around him
Snape's incessant droning about cauldron safety did little to alleviate his growing boredom. Suddenly, a cacophony of crashing metal and sputtering flames erupted from across the room, followed by Snape's scathing pronouncement, "Five points from Gryffindor!"
Aegnor winced, his gaze briefly flickering towards the source of the commotion. There, you stood, exiled from the Gryffindor table amidst a chorus of giggles.
You were a whirlwind of Gryffindor red and mischief, your hair escaping its usual braid. Without a moment's hesitation, you marched towards Aegnor, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes.
"Mind if I join you guys?" you chirped, settling down on the empty stool beside him before he could even formulate a response.
Before he could stammer a response, his sister, Galadriel, cut in with a frosty, "How about no."
Aegnor felt the urge to glare at his sister. He stole a glance at you, half-expecting you to wilt under Galadriel's icy stare.
Instead, you met her gaze with a playful glint in your eyes, a barely suppressed smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Cool, glad that we agree," you replied shaking his hand.
A sheepish grin spread across your face as you leaned closer to Aegnor, your voice barely a whisper. "Mind sharing the textbook?" you pleaded, a hint of desperation lacing your tone.
Your own copy lay abandoned on the desk, its pages marred by a splatter of what could only be some sort of disastrous purple goo.
For a moment, Aegnor felt a flicker of surprise, a jolt of something akin to shyness as you invaded his personal space. He wasn't used to such casual closeness, especially not with someone from Gryffindor.
He stole a glance at his sister, Galadriel. Her lips were pursed in disapproval, a silent reminder of the boundaries he was teetering on.
But something, perhaps the endearing lack of inhibition in your eyes, won him over. With a barely audible sigh, he shifted the book closer to you, his voice a low murmur as he mumbled the instructions Snape had droned on about mere moments ago.
And that is how his world collided with yours. Reforming itself for the eternity of his life.
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Maedhros spelled at Maidros in The Histories of Middle Earth gives me a massive ick.
Also, I love his name Russandol. He's such a cutie patootie his name has the word doll in it.
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Debt to be Repaid
Request: Maglor
Pairing: Reader x Maglor
Summary: A no-name resident and a gorgeous stranger
An: Thank you for requesting @animatorweirdo ;) here is your drabble. Hope you like it! (What in the Hell is Happening Event)
The sterile scent of disinfectant did little to ease the churning in your stomach. You darted through the busy corridors, careful not to upset any patients or nurses assisting them. Your feet barely touched the ground before they lunged forward in another lunge.
The residency you'd clawed your way towards for six years was crashing in front of your eyes. A dream that felt increasingly borrowed, yet losing it felt like losing the last piece of sanity you held onto.
You had to explain. It was your word against theirs. It all started with your outspokenness that just couldn't be contained. What need was there to comment on Dr. Kim or his breach of safety protocol during surgery?
Some good standing for the right had done you. Now the accusations of malpractice hung heavy, a convenient scapegoat for a resident with an unknown past.
“May I come in?” you knock on the looming conference door that stood between you and your dreams. Taking a deep breath you step in, your eyes barely registering anything before you find him!
The stranger who now stood decked out in a suit. His dark hair, straight and sleek, framed eyes that held a glint of steel yet a lingering mirth of recognition.
2 years ago~
“Gods, what is that?” One of the hikers in your group shrieked. The entire group paused in their way.
Not soon the high-pitched voices called for a doctor. “We need a doctor!” The camp leader announced.
“Do we have a medical practitioner in the camp?” And that became your chance to shine. 3rd year resident at Lorien. You stepped forward expecting an exhausted dehydrated hiker only to find a silhouette of a man.
Shrouded in scrapes and cuts, and smeared with mountain dirt, he was no more than the rocks surrounding you. The blue tinge to his skin sent a jolt of fear through you. Hypothermia was a harsh mistress in these unforgiving heights.
"Please move, I'm a doctor," you announced, crouching beside him. His wrist, frail and exposed, felt cool under your touch. Yet, beneath the chill, a steady pulse thrummed – a defiant echo of life clinging to a fragile thread.
There it was. The steady and firm beat of life even in the worst of adversity.
He became your days and your nights for the next week. Your cautious treatment of man teetering on the edge of leaving the world at the slightest whisk of air.
A stranger with beauty that even death seemed to want to covet. His hair long and matted with debris of every possible kind imagined. What was he doing on a lonely mountain? The blistering soles of his feet were proof of shoes long gone, tattered jacket scourged from him lost to wear of time.
Days blurred into nights. You questioned him tirelessly, your voice a stark contrast to the mountain's silence. "Who are you? What brought you here?" Each time, silence was your only answer. You knew it was a long shot; an unconscious patient wouldn't be much for conversation..
One morning, your makeshift camp was eerily empty. The nameless man had vanished, leaving only the ghost of his presence in the undisturbed earth and the lingering scent of pine needles on the air.
Panic clawed at your throat. Had he succumbed to the harsh elements during the night? Had he chosen to disappear back into the wilderness? You searched the mountain, each step fueled by a desperate hope and a burgeoning fear.
You searched frantically, clinging to the mountain long after your group had descended, until the demands of your residency dragged you back to your world.
Present~
The air crackled with disbelief. The very man you'd nursed back from the brink on a desolate mountaintop now stood across from you in the sterile conference room, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Pleasant to meet you again," he rumbled, his voice surprisingly gentle considering the disarray he caused amongst the assembled group. "Kanafinwe," he inclined his head in a courtly bow, the incongruity of his archaic mannerisms in this modern setting sending shivers down your spine.
It just so happened the nomad, the one you'd treated with calloused hands and limited supplies, was Kanafinwe, the second son of the Noldor conglomerate – the very entity your entire hospital prostrated itself to on a daily basis.
Perhaps this time around your words will hold some weight.
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I want to _____ you.
reblog and see what your followers say
Interesting..
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Túrin Turambar (2021)
I still cherish this fanart <3
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