#feanor's daughter

[animatorweirdo]

How to kidnap yourself a dark lord husband? Part 2

Part 1

(Second part for the crack fic. I hope you enjoy this one)

Warnings: Reader being a headache to her family, Sauron just dealing with her antics, Melkor getting robbed of his lieutenant and Manwe not getting paid enough to deal with this.

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Nerdanel: *Sobbing* I can't believe our daughter would disappear again. What has Melkor's servant done to her mind to make her act like this?

Feanor: *Visibly angry* This is why the valars can't be trusted. They allowed something like this to occur to my only daughter. 

You: *Kicks the door open* Naneth! Atar! I'm home, and I have news for you! 

Nerdanel: *Startled* (Name)! Where have you been? And who is that beneath your arm?

You: *Carrying Sauron beneath your arm like a potato sack* My new husband! 

Your whole family: YOUR WHAT?!!!

Sauron: *Waving at them awkwardly* Uhm... hey. 

***

Feanor: (Name)! You can't just decide to marry someone you have only known for like a month! And he's one of the Ainur!

You: Don't worry. Mairon's a rogue, so he doesn't belong with the valar. 

Feanor: That's not what I meant! Why would you want to marry him anyway?!

You: One, he's less loud than all of you. Two, he's hot, and three, he gave me a dog— something you have refused to give me for centuries! 

Feanor: Seriously? 

You: *Holding Carna* Dead seriously!

Carna: Woof!

Feanor: (Name)!

Your brothers: *Glaring at Sauron* Hurt her, and you're dead. 

Sauron: *Deadpan* I'm literally the one that got kidnapped. 

***

Melkor: Well, well, well... now this is something I didn't expect to happen. 

Sauron: Hello, master. 

Melkor: So, what's your plan with Feanor's daughter? Did you seduce her? Did you brainwash her? Is your plan to have power over Feanor's house by marriage? 

Sauron: No. She just decided we should be married and forced me to come here. By the way, I've been meaning to talk to you about something. 

Melkor: Huh?

Sauron: *Slides in a resignation letter* 

Melkor: You want to quit? Why! Is it because you suddenly got a wife now?

Sauron: Master... it's literally been like 300 years since we even spoke. Everyone has literally gone in their own ways. 

Melkor: What? 

Sauron: Yeah. There's no one at Angband. We assumed you would never come back, so we didn't see a point to continue.

Melkor: Seriously? 

Sauron: No hard feelings. I might come back if you come up with something, but for now, I have different things to deal with. *Leaves*

You: *Grinning at Melkor* Haha! Fuck you, your lieutenant is mine now!

Melkor: *Silence*

Melkor: Oh dear– I got robbed of my lieutenant before I could rob her father’s silmarils. 

***

Your family: *Arguing with you in front of the valars*

You: *Arguing back* 

Manwe: *Having an headache*

Manwe: Alright! Settle down. I have a proposition that might help both of you in this matter! 

You & your family: *Look at him silently*

Manwe: (Name) Since your family wants you to stay, but you do not want to break your relationship with Sauron. How about this? During winter years, you shall spend your time with Sauron in Middle Earth, and during spring years, you will spend your time with your family in Valinor. 

You: *Thinks about it* Yeah, sounds good to me. 

Your family: Wait, it's the start of autumn. 

You: Woohoo! Which means half a year without you!

You: *Grap Sauron and began leaving* Bye! I see you in spring! 

Your family: *Sobs* (Name)!

[lidoshka]

@feanorianweek #3 Celegorm - waves

Having Aredhel was like having a sister throughout their childhood.

+

@feanorianweek #3 Celegorm - olas

Tener a Aredhel era como tener una hermana durante toda su infancia.

[silmarillaure]

Míriel Þerindë Crack Origin Theory:

She's not actually born into any of the Elf clans but to 2 Maiar who took elven form. No, I'm not saying this makes her a Maia, the Ainur may be able to reproduce but they can not create more Ainur than those who already exist.

She's an Elf, but not the kind Eru Ilúvatar created, she's an imitation of them in a way. Not a bad imitation, she's beautiful & she's brilliant, but an imitation of the real thing none the less.

As seen with Aulë and the Dwarves, it's not an amazing idea to try recreating what Eru made, & this is exactly what causes her pregnancy to go wrong.

She wasn't "built" the same way as Finwë & the other elves (or even the men), she wasn't made to procreate with them.

Lúthien is different, her father was an actual Elf, so that made her a natural child of Eru just as he was despite having a Maia mother.

And Fëanor is Lúthien's male counterpart for this exact reason, surpassing in both power & beauty. By blood he's half Ainur as well, but his mother wasn't an Ainur nor a "natural" Elf and therefore was unable to give birth to him without complications.

[doodle-pops]

Turn Back the Sands of Time

Feanor x daughter!reader

Request: Can I request a fic for Feanor, coming back to Valinor after hia death, finding out Nerdanel had been pregnant when he left and she gave birth to a daughter. And if possible, this daughter has Miriel's sewing gift. – anon

A/N: I took a different route to how their interaction would occur and made this quite sentimental than I intended :)

Warnings: female reader, soft angst, softness and comfort, reconciliation

Words: 2.4k

Synopsis: With the return of your father to the Blessed Realm, an attempt at rekindling what was never forged, is pursued.

“Leaving so early?”

Your mother’s voice reverberated through the morning air, clear yet carrying a stern undertone. The sun had ascended over the hills and forest, casting its benevolent warmth upon the damp, fertile earth, coaxing the crawlies to retreat to their hidden abodes.

Startled by her sudden intrusion, you jerked in surprise, twisting your neck to find your mother positioned in the doorway. Her hands firmly rested on her hips, already adorned with small flecks of clay and dust. A hasty bun confined her hair, and she wore the familiar work coveralls that marked her dedication to the tasks at hand. “Oh, you gave me a fright!” you awkwardly chuckled, your attention momentarily diverted from the contents of your basket. “I’m... heading out.”

Her bare feet made no sound on the polished floorings as she traversed the distance, positioning herself beside you. With keen observation, she watched as you hastened your packaging, attempting to conceal the contents within the basket. Despite your efforts, you weren’t as clever as you believed. However, she remained silent, extending her left hand to rest against your waist. Leaning in, she placed a tender kiss on your cheek.

“At least be safe on the road. You can borrow a few of my cloaks, they’ll keep you warm, and good luck. I cannot tell you how to decide, but when you do, know that it is something you will have to live with.”

Suddenly, she vanished through the backdoor, setting you on the arduous path to Formenos after brief stops at Tirion’s market to procure supplies. Pastries, breads, salted meats, and fruits were gathered in an attempt to ease any potential awkwardness.

Alone on the road for five days, you revisited regions where you had once stealthily ventured. The surroundings were steeped in familiarity as you leisurely strolled by. The rhythmic clopping of your horse’s hooves on the gravelled road, the subtle rustling of trees and bushes, vast open fields where the wind hummed its tune, and the delightful symphony of birdsong and frog croaks accompanied your journey. Small creatures scurried at the feet of your horse, some perching on your shoulders or head. Nightfall descended, only to be swiftly replaced by the break of day, marking the conclusion of your expedition.

As you arrived at your destination, the wear and tear on the landscape became evident. Paint had faded, stones were missing from pillars and posts, wood showed signs of decay, and windows lay shattered. Face-to-face with the relentless march of time and the scars of neglect, you confronted the tangible evidence of one’s transgressions.

Dismounting from your majestic stallion, you carefully secured him to an apple tree before continuing on foot. The path led you through a gateway and into a garden adorned with a subtle array of colours—some signs of life still blossoming. Your keen eyes noticed the adjustments since your last visit, becoming attuned to the intense presence and weight that the surroundings now bore.

With each step, the gravel and dust beneath your sandals resonated against the cobblestone, creating a symphony of soft crunches until you abruptly halted before the colossal red door, proudly displaying the house sigil in shimmering gold. Tightening your grip on the basket and assuming a more composed posture, a sense of tension gripped your throat, akin to barbed wires constricting around it.

Summoning your courage, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing three times in tandem with the palpitations of your heart.

Initially, it seemed like no one was home, but an imposing presence lingered in the air, prompting you to raise your hand for another attempt. However, before your knuckles could make contact, the hinges groaned, and a towering figure emerged. A giant of an elf with fiery red hair and silvery eyes loomed before you, meeting your tentative gaze. While a hunch suggested his identity, he was not the person you had come to meet. An acute observation of his appearance left you trembling at your core.

His features were the same as the portraits hung in your mother’s workshop, a stark difference to the descriptions your uncle Arafinwë explained. There were no scars, missing ligament or whitening of his hair, but it was still enough to elicit fright in your bones. The stories were enough, running their course to remind all of his actions.

“No trespassing, this is private property. Whatever business you are conducting, take it elsewhere,” he muttered under his breath with emptiness in his eyes before shuffling to slam the door in your face.

Luckily, you stuck your hand out. “Wait, please don’t! I uh…” you fumbled and exhaled, “I came to speak with Lord Fëanáro. Is he in?”

“If you are here to lay blame on him for his actions, I would suggest that you get in line—”

Waving your hands frantically in his face, you panicked. “No, no, no, no! You have it all wrong. I’m not here for that; I’m here to simply speak with him.”

“Speak with him?” Maedhros meditated. “Did King Arafinwë send you?”

Your eyes widened in disbelief at the surprising intensity with which your own brother reacted to your simple desire to speak with his father. It was truly perplexing that, despite all that had transpired, he continued to share living quarters with Fëanáro. Your assumption that their relationship had soured after recent events was swiftly proven incorrect.

Clearly, his perspectives on Fëanáro differed significantly from yours, and he held personal convictions that he preferred to keep to himself. The intricacies of their business remained shrouded in mystery.

“Uncl—King Arafinwë did not send me, I sent myself,” you stated with pride, straightening out any fears in your posture and stretching a confident smile across your lips. “Can you tell him that a…a Lady Y/N is here to speak with him?”

The moment your name fell past your lips, you saw the micro-expression of your brother’s eyes widening before composing themselves. His stance changed from no longer blocking the entire doorway to standing aside and granting you a peek inside. You were half expecting him to make a scene, yet he proved otherwise.

Maedhros’ eyes fluttered and flickered around your frame, contemplating on his next decision. Exhaling, he stepped outside, shutting the door behind and ushered around you figure to the left of the house. “He’s situated on this side of the house. It’s quicker and less…obstructive. Follow me.” And you partially understood what he meant—the bloodstains from where your grandfather was slain, still staining the floors. However, it was the unwarranted meet-and-greet of the rest of your brothers.

You weren’t here for them, and Maedhros was kind enough to spare you.

The journey unfolded in a discomforting silence, compelling you to tighten your grip on the basket as the minutes passed. Your elder brother guided you through a labyrinth of twists and turns, eventually leading to the distant sounds of a babbling stream and the faint rustling of paper being crumpled. As you approached an archway, entwined and covered in an overgrowth of vines, the scene unfolded before you—Fëanáro, seated on a bench, holding a charcoal, and engrossed in fervent scribbling on parchment, an expression of exasperation etched across his features.

Despite the openness of the surroundings, the air felt stifling. The heavens above offered a solution to wash away the lingering muskiness, and yet, it persisted. How could anyone discover peace or find reprieve in such conditions?

“I’ll leave you to speak with him.” He offered a polite smile, and with a bow of his head, Maedhros departed, leaving you to face his father in privacy.

Acknowledging the bow with a graceful return, you redirected your attention towards the man seated on the weathered wooden bench. His appearance had undergone a noticeable transformation since your initial encounter—his once neatly tied hair now cascaded loosely, and his attire, less polished, resembled something reminiscent of what your mother wore when she was in her element. Absent were the ornate rings that had adorned his fingers, and there was a notable absence of any jewellery embellishing his clothing. In this particular moment, he existed simply as Fëanáro, the man who had seemingly returned from the realm of the deceased. The elf who had…

“How long will you linger in the shadows, child?” came his soft voice. It was much mellow that the confrontation shared with your mother.

Taking a large gulp of air, you crossed the archway, entered his space to stand at the entrance and called out. “Greetings Lord Fëanáro.”

A resounding cry escaped his lips the moment his eyes fell upon your timid figure. Joy and agony intertwined in his heart as he realized that his child had come to visit him. With a swift, almost spring-like motion, he abandoned his seat, forgetting the letter that lay there, and hurried over to stand before your magnificence. It was the first time he had a clear image of the daughter he had denied himself the knowledge of. In your features, he saw not just you but also your mother and the reflection of his eldest.

An intense yearning surged within him, a desire to reach out and grasp you, to finally experience the touch of a creation that bore no marks of his mistakes. However, hesitation gripped his mind, as the unexpected loomed overhead like ominous clouds threatening to unleash a storm. The uncertainty lingered, questioning whether the rain would be cold or warm, if it would bring wrath or peace—or perhaps an outburst of everything.

“You…” He laughed breathlessly with disbelief at the tip of his tongue. “You’re all grown up. I was told about you during my return, unsure if a meeting would occur. I had glimpsed you at your mother’s, hoping to be acquainted. Unfortunately, I had not been blessed.”

“Hm, I decided to come see you on my own after…” your voice trailed off, indicating his reunion with your mother. “Well, she had the inclination that I was coming to see you, yet she did not stop me. I wanted to hear from you on my own.”

His facial muscles engaged in a silent struggle, battling the instinct to react to every nuance of your words. His hands, twitching with the desire to pull you into a comforting embrace, held back, understanding that such a gesture might inflict more harm than healing. Your perceptions of him were coloured by his transgressions. You possessed ample reasons to maintain a distance, not just from him, but also from your own brothers.

“What is there for me to tell you when you are aware of everything, my child?” he responded with reservation.

“Why?”

Your question lingered in the air, a stain that defied any attempts at removal; not even the heavens’ rain could cleanse it.

One question. Millions of reasons. One answer, and yet, he chose to walk away with his back turned and head hung in shame. His body collided with the bench with his head in his hands facing the floor.

“What answer might I give to you that would satisfy your perspective of me?” he uttered. “You’ve heard it all; I chose the Silmarils over my family… Why you ask? Pride, maybe arrogance or my blind foolishness. I led my children into death and one by one I watched them succumb to the same madness as me.”

“But you have me who was spared from the doom. I exist, someone you can change for. Someone who can be the answer to why.” Were the words wanting to spill from your lips, however, now was not the time. There was much to be possibly kindled to know how much your words weighed.

Stepping closer to where he sat hunched, you placed the basket beside him and knelt. Your hands were hesitant to touch his, but you managed to pry them off his face. “You know, there’s a saying that ammë says,” you whispered akin to the wind, “it’s something along the lines of, ‘second chances don’t come around often, but when they do, they appear in mysterious ways. It’s only if you desire it, then possibilities will arise’. If you want forgiveness, you can start with me. Show me the you who wants better.”

Fëanáro lifted his head, his mismatch teary eyes locking on your compassionate ones. He was stunned at your sympathy when his wife would not spare him the chance. If only he had not been so foolish, the family he desired would have existed before his very eyes. “You do not truly mean your words? Your mother would not pardon me—”

“I am not ammë; your quarrel with her is between you both. I am Y/N and this is between us. I choose to try building this relationship so long as you work with me,” you corrected with confidence laced in your voice. Your eyes were stern, filled with assertiveness and the reflection of faces you’d never met. “You have to want this.”

He considered with sorrowful eyes, too fearful of repeating his past and ruining his last blessing. With deliberate actions, he shifted to sit upright and meet you head-on. “Then I make no promises...no oaths.”

“Good, because I was prepared to convince you anyway possible since I brought treats for us to indulge, and I would hate for them to waste.” Your eyes darted to the basket filled with delicacies for you both to snack on during your formal meet-and-greet. “Imagine how awkward it would be had you rejected, and I had to return with a filled basket of treats.”

“You could have left it with your brothers. I’m sure they would be thrilled to learn their sister brought treats for them.” Fëanáro felt a surge of pride at the flow of your interactions, lacking awkwardness and tension. It gave him a sense of purpose to understand that all good things were not lost.

Though his refusal to utter the words of “Thanks” remained in his heart, for he knew Eru had heard and seen his gratitude.

Snickering as you reached for the basket to produce a blanket, you threw him a whimsical side eye. “I doubt that. You should have seen how the giant redhead was staring at me. I thought I was about to be thrown like a javelin out the yard,” you giggled.

“Maitimo?”

“Ay, I thought he was going to toss me out! Though it seems that the others are here as well?”

“Would you be willing to meet them?”

“Maybe another time, I only came with enough energy to deal with you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

[writerrose1998]

Findis: What are you two arguing about this time? Fëanáro: He's always using common phrases incorrectly! Nolofinwë: *smirking* Cry me a ocean, Náro.

[sesamenom]

Ringlord High King of Everything Elrond, inspired here

(@the-writing-goblin)

I imagine in this situation elrond would have been partially tempted by boromir's declaration, but instead of trying to fight sauron with it (because even in the weirdest crack au i can think of elrond is still too genre-aware to try that) he tried to use it to supercharge his use of vilya and protect everyone.

basically Ringlord!Elrond turned the entirety of Eriador into a mega-gondolin situation: massive walls (courtesy of numenorean/eregion tech) around the regions bordering the north or Mordor, fortresses along the mountain range and several layers of gates along every road in or out. Everybody goes in; nobody goes out; everyone is safe.

and he ended up claiming the kingship to give him more authority in the process - he's High King of the Noldor and Sindar and King of the Edain (given that there are like three half-vanyar in middle-earth, he's more or less king of all children of iluvatar) and so he can have command over the entirety of the West.

and with the help of the Ring, this actually works! but the corruption starts to show eventually

he uses his kinship to Gondor to forcefully drag them into his neo-gondolin-empire-creation so he can ensure none of his great-nephews will ever have to face sauron. he extends the walls to encompass Mirkwood, because he's the high king of the sindar and has a duty to protect thranduil's realm, and unleashes the full might of his melian-lite powers to purge Sauron's Shadow and the spawn of Ungoliant from the now-Greenwood.

Galadriel and Glorfindel very much see where this is going and are very very worried. galadriel won't let him build walls around lothlorien (because she lives next door to a balrog and knows exactly what happened to gondolin) but celeborn thinks it's a good idea, since after all Doriath wouldn't have fallen if Melian's girdle had still been up. glorfindel tries to talk him out of it but the ring has taken hold

the Ring's power also enhances all his natural weirdness and powers - he has his wings and maia markings permanently activated now, with or without finwean anger. he can fully shapeshift, and he goes from raising waves in the bruinen to raising tsunamis in the great sea.

except the finwean anger seems to be permanently activated now, too, and anyone who harms someone he's deemed under his protection finds themselves the target of a rather ironic vengeance quest. the shapeshifting is looking weird now - his teeth are always sharp now, and his eyes have gone fully inhuman. sometimes he has claws and his wings look more like bats than eagles. and his water powers are more like osse's- he can't calm the waters now (goldberry is the first to notice something's up) and can only stir them into massive ship-sinking storms and tsunamis.

this progresses until he's basically Evil Luthien ruling over a continent-wide Mega-Gondolin, slaughtering orc-hordes before they even reach the white walls and sinking any naval fleet Sauron tries to send around the coast. Everybody is brought in; nobody leaves; everyone is safe...?

he figures out that the dwarven legend of "Durin's Bane" has to be one of the few first age balrogs thats still unaccounted for. and well, it's living right on his border, and he can't risk another fall of gondolin, right? so he leads a small force in there to clear moria, and they shove the balrog off the edge, but it takes one of his captains (except glorfindel) with it (maybe erestor?) and he uses the ring and saves erestor, (and maybe floods the balrog for good measure), and glorfindel is sure he saw elrond's eyes go yellow for a moment.

and even fully corrupted, he knows he can't take the ring directly into mordor. but he can wipe out sauron's armies outside the walls, to protect his kingdom - because turgon's mistake was thinking he was safe even when there were balrogs and dragons and orcs outside, right?

somewhere along the way, arwen realizes what's happening and goes to live with galadriel. one of the twins goes with her; the other stays out of loyalty but eventually follows.

elrond's kingdom has become a cross between doriath and gondolin now, with all the surrounding lands warped by ring-magic to hide it, and layers of stone walls and iron gates preventing anyone from leaving. because everyone is here; nobody leaves; everyone is... safe?

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Canon Divergent AU where Thingol gives the Silmaril to the Sons of Feanor after receiving it from Beren alright Ulfang I’d like to see your slimy son get close to his commander without running away from ‘the power of that holy jewel’

[elficially-done-with-life]

My Little Fire

Fëanor & daugther!reader

Summary: You, Fëanor's daughter, go to visit your father in the forge.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Fëanáro immediately realised that he was being watched, for he could see his beloved daughter's silver hair glistening as she secretly peeked around the corner of the forge.

It was the hair she had inherited from Míriel that Fëanáro would recognise it anywhere.

And he knew it didn't belong to Tyelkormo, as his boy never went near the forge for fear his father would force him to stay inside all day.

"Little fire?" It was one of at least a hundred nicknames he had come up with for you over the years. Nerdanel made fun of it because there were so many, but how could he not? You were his sweet, wonderful daughter.

You peeked around the doorframe again and your eyes lit up when you saw your father.

Fëanáro laughed softly and put aside the necklace he had just forged for Nerdanel and approached you.

He put his hands under your arms and lifted you up in his arms to press a kiss on your cheek.

"What brings you here?" he asked gently and then added a little hopefully: "Do you want to learn to work in the forge?"

You grimaced. "Too much fire." you mumbled softly. "I do not like fire."

"Right, you do not. "Fëanáro nodded. Two years ago, you once had a bad nightmare about burning ships and your family in the middle of them and have been afraid of fire ever since.

But that had only been a dream.

"But then what brings you here, my dearest daughter?" he asked with a smile

"Well, you Atya! I missed you!" you announced.

Fëanáro laughed and rubbed his nose against yours affectionatly.

"But also that I have to hide." you whispered softly. "Nelyo, Moryo and I are playing hide and seek."

Fëanáro grinned. Normally his Morifinwë always held back in such games, but you had him practically wrapped around your finger. You were born after Curufinwë and had practically attached yourself directly to Morifinwë and now you were inseparable.

If you couldn't be found, one simply had to keep an eye out for Moryo, usually ypu were holding his hand, sleeping curled up in his side while he embroidered or persuading him to play with you and the others.

Then Fëanáro heard footsteps.

"Let us hide you then," he said quietly to you and you pressed a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle.

Fëanáro took a cloak from a handle he had placed in the corner of the forge where the fire couldn't reach it and threw it over you.

"Just stay under it, then Nelyo will not be able to see you."

The very next second, Nelyo entered the forge and looked around. His red hair was tied back in a braid and the freckles on his forehead rippled slightly as his eyes landed on his father.

"Atya?" A slight smile played around his lips and Fëanáro knew immediately that his eldest son had seen through him. "Why are you standing so far in the corner?"

"You know, Nelyafinwë," Fëanáro grinned mischievously, "somethimes one has to look at ones forge from a different angle."

A soft giggle sounded from under his cloak.

Nelyo laughed softly. "Got you!"

"Nelyo!"you shouted loudly and jumped out from under the cloak to tackle him in a hug.

"Y/N!"Nelyo exclaimed happily, wrapping his arms around you.

"Now I just have to find Carnistir. "Nelyo said, looking at his father.

Fëanáro raised his hands in defence. "I was just hiding one child."

"Me! I know where he is!" you shouted in a chant and danced around your big brother."

"And where?" Nelyo asked, although he was aware that you wouldn't tell.

You put your hands on your hips and said with feigned indignation: "I am not betraying my Moryo!"

Nelyo laughed and tousled your hair, "That is probably for the best."

"You two. "Fëanáro shook his head with a smile. "Why do you not look for him upstairs? I do not think he is outside. Irissë is visiting and she and Tyelko are tearing everything apart and you know Morifinwë does not like that.

Nelyo laughed, picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" you shouted indignantly.

"I am off to find Carnistir," he said, kissing his father on the cheek as a farewell and carrying you out with him.

Fëanáro smiled gently as he looked after you. He really loved his children.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[finalgirlart]

a very stylized painting of thee most eldest daughter coded character in all of tolkien’s writings

[sweetteaanddragons]

I saw that post you made about fem!Feanor who has a bunch of daughters and one son and it got me thinking about what would change in canon if male!Feanor had a bunch of daughters...he would just go ballistic if anyone insinuated that he had so many daughters because he was trying for a son and I guess he would fight to get inheritance changed (no daughter of his is ever going to be less than fingolfin’s sons!)

You know what I honestly think would be the biggest change in this AU?

Feanor's reaction to the news he's getting a grandchild.

He's still happy, don't get me wrong! He's just also worried. So very worried.

Fem!Curufinwe's husband should also be very worried because he is definitely getting a very threatening shovel talk about how, if something goes wrong, Feanor doesn't care how long it takes or how certain Curufinwe says she is that she doesn't want to come back, Curufinwe's husband will be waiting on her.

(Of course, that might require him to face angry feelings toward Finwe for not waiting, which is a whole other can of worms.)

(Referenced post is . . . somewhere. I will try to track it down. Wish me luck!)

(Edit: It is here! I found it in my fic master list which . . . is a thing I had forgotten I had made, actually. I should probably update that at some point.)

[animatorweirdo]

How to kidnap yourself a dark lord husband?

(The last request. This is for the Sauron x reader being a Hades and Persephone imagine. I'm sorry if this was not all you expected, but I was struggling with ideas and with the help of a friend, turned this into a crack fic. I might make a second part since this ended up being long. I hope you like it. )

Requested by Anon

Hi AnimatorWeirdo! Sending you a request for Mairon x daughter of Feanor!reader in a Persephone x Hades AU? (Like the anon requested a little bit ago? Thank you!

Warnings: Reader is done with her family, really wants a puppy, intensely flirts with Sauron, proposes marriage, and then kidnaps him from his fortress.

--------------------------------

You: *Travelling in the darkness of Beleriand* 

You: Okay. Is this the place to find other people* 

*Before* 

You: *Slowly losing her patience* 

Maedhros: (Name), you should consider going out more. It will do good for you. 

You: Alright *Goes outside* 

You: *Sits in the garden* 

Maglor: *Sings very loudly that the birds of the garden fly away, disrupting your peacetime* 

You: *Growl and leaves the house* 

You: *Check around the forest* 

Celegorm: Woohoo! *Rides past her with Huan, splashing mud on you* 

You: Fuck! *Leaves the for forest* 

You: *Arrive at a quiet lake*

Caranthir: *Appears in the shade doing embroidery or whatever he did in his free time*

You: Ah! Where did you come from?!

Caranthir: I've been here all this time. 

You: Oh, okay. What are you doing? 

Carathir: Embroidery. 

You: Cool. Can I try? 

Caranthir: No. I don't want you to ruin my things.

You: *silence* 

You: Fine. Goodbye! *Walks away* 

You: *Comes to a city to check around stalls and shops*

Curufin: *Bangs loudly his hammer in his workshop, startling you*

You: * You stare as he works, but decide to leave, not considering interacting with him*

You: *You come home*

You: *You sigh in relief when you hear the house is quiet, which means silence and peace*

You: *Step on a trap rope*

You: *Get splashed by a bucket of water*

You: *Scream*

Ambarussa: *Laughs at you* 

You: *Growling with rage* 

You: Naneth! Can I move with Grandpa and other cousins?

Nerdanel: *Deeply focused on her work* Ask your father.

You: Atar! Can I move with Grandpa and other cousins?!

Feanor: *Focusing on his work* No!

You: Please! I can't handle seeing my brothers everywhere! I just want one week of peace!

Feanor: As I said. No. 

You: THATS IT!

You: I AM SO DONE WITH ALL OF YOU! *Secretly leaves Aman and wanders into Beleriand without telling anybody* 

*Now*

You: *Stare at the dark fortress filled with strange creatures*

You: *Shrugs* Looks decent enough. 

*Inside*

Sauron: *Minding his own business*

You: *Appear and stare at him*

You: *Checks him out because he's quite good-looking*

Sauron: *Groans frustrated with a project*

You: You should probably consider adding this to make it work. *Points at something*

Sauron: *Nearly jumps off from his chair* Where the hell did you come from, elf?

You: I walked in. 

Sauron: You... just walked in? Without getting captured by the guards?

You: *Nods* I mean, they were on their break, and I didn't want to disturb them. 

Sauron: Elf, do you even know who I am?

You: *Looks at him and his height*

You: Really tall? 

Sauron: No! I am Sauron! Lord Melkor's greatest servant and the lord of this fortress! 

You: .... okay. 

Sauron: You... you're not even half phased or scared? I am technically a horror story to the local elves. 

You: *giggles* you're funny. I saw you have some troubles with this one thing: I know how to fix it, let me show you. 

You: *Began showing him how to fix the problem*

Sauron: *just lets you because it was working and he didn't know what to do else* 

*1 Day later* 

Sauron:*ordering orcs around*

You: *squealing loudly* that it startled most of the orcs*

You: Mairon? Can I keep him? *Holding a werewolf puppy*

Sauron: What? No! That's one of my werewolves. I can't let you keep him and who allowed you to call me by my original name? 

You: Please! My father still doesn't allow me to adopt a dog, and I'm a full-grown adult, and besides, you have hundreds of werewolves. You can afford to give one to me!

Sauron: As I said. No! 

You: *Leans in closer, fluttering your eyelashes* Please, my lord. Give this puppy to me. 

Sauron: Are you seriously trying to put up a seductive act just to adopt a puppy?

You: *Grins* Is it working? 

Sauron: *Sighs* Fine. If you really want him. 

You: *Squeals again in happiness* Thank you! I'm gonna name him Carna because his coat reminds me of your red hair. 

Sauron: You do know, he's gonna grow up into a werewolf, right? You don't find that even slightly abnormal or disturbing? 

You: No. Not at all. He's my baby now. I'm gonna love him even when he's grown up. 

Carna: *Whines happily, licking your face*

You: *Giggles while hugging him*

Sauron: *Muttering under his breath while staring at you with slightly reddish cheeks and ears because he finds the sight adorable* Oh shit. 

*8 Day*

You: Fuck!

Sauron: *Startled* What? What's going on? 

You: My family just started noticing my disappearance and knows I'm here. They now claim you kidnapped me or something. 

Sauron: And what are you planning to deal with that? 

You: Unless you want to face the drama of my family. I should probably go there to explain what's really going on between you and me. And trust me, you do not want to face my family drama.

Sauron: Fine. Go. I do not think I can stop you even if I want to. 

You: Alright. I will be back as soon as possible. *leaves the fortress*

Sauron: Finally, some peace and quiet.

*12 Day* 

Sauron: *dealing with deep silence and not being used to it because he had gotten used to hearing your voice most of the time*

Orc: Sire. Is something bothering you?

Sauron: Fuck... I actually miss her and her obnoxious voice. 

Orc: *Confusion*

*15 Day*

You: I'm back! 

Sauron: Finally! What took you so long?!

You: My family. Why? Did you miss me?

Sauron: *Scoffs* No.

Random balrog: *Pops out of nowhere* Yes, he did! He's been ten times more foul when you were away! He even created wolves to remember you since you liked his werewolves so much. 

You: Aww! You did!

Sauron: *Screaming at the balrog*  Shut up! 

You: Oh, don't be mad. I missed you too. 

Sauron: *looks at you confused* really? 

You: *Smiles* Yeah. I like how calm and collected you are. You don't bring too much drama in the house. You're creative with your work and respect my boundaries, which my family rarely does. And the best part— you have dogs. 

Sauron: Wolves, technically. 

You: It doesn't matter. If it's fluffy and cute, and I can hug it, then that's all that matters. And I do like a certain amount of wildness in them. 

Sauron: You are a very strange elf, you know that? Are you possibly the oddball in your family? 

You: Maybe. I just like things slightly unordinary. Valinor is nice and all, but It can get really boring sometimes. 

You: *Gets an idea*

You: I know how to get my family off our backs. 

Sauron: And what's that?

You: *Graps his hands and looks at him with an intense look* Marry me!

Sauron: Huh?!

The whole fortress: Ooooohhh! 

Sauron: *stutters for the first time in his life* No! Why?!

You: If we get married my family will finally stop bothering us. And besides, I think we make a good couple. We're both smart and pretty. We have dogs and if we get far in our relationship, we'll make beautiful children. 

Sauron: *stunned *

The whole fortress: Come on, that's not a bad deal. Get some!

Sauron: *Collects himself quickly* Aren't you being a bit too bold with your proposal? 

You: Is that a yes? 

Sauron: I'm— uhh—

The random balrog: Hey! How about you two kiss already?!

Sauron: Shut it!

You: Great. So it's settled then? 

Sauron: What? 

You: Let's go to Valinor to break the news. Let's go! 

Sauron: Hey! Wait a minute! *Screams as you take him away from the fortress*

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

My Nolofinwë brainrot is back in full force!!!!

Imagine growing up in a household where you KNOW your father loves you but not more than your elder brother who can do now wrong in his eyes even when he ignores your existence and probably hates your mother. Imagine growing up as a PRINCE of the Noldor but always coming in second in the eyes of the people because you’re NOT your brother. You don’t shine as bright as him, you’re not as crafty as him. The work of your hands do not inspire such devotion that even the gods above seek to bless it with their protection.

Imagine knowing that the sole reason for your existence is because your fathers beloved first wife was condemned to an entirety in the Halls of Mandos and thus causing your brilliant elder brother to despise your mother and ignore your existence so wholly it starts fracturing the Noldor. Imagine trying your best to be friends with your brother but him pushing you away at every turn so eventually you decide that if you can’t have his love you’d have his hatred because even hatred is better than the indifference he showed you growing up.

Imagine loving and hating your brother in equal measure, imagine hating him so much for condemning your host to the ice because of your choice to name yourself with an extra Finwë in your name yet mourning him so deeply when you cross the ice just to discover he is already dead and all your hate cannot be aimed at the person responsible because what good is holding on to that hate when he is already dead? What good is that hate when you KNOW you can never have any sort of resolution with him until the breaking of the world? What good is holding on to that hatred when your nephews are holding on by a string and civil war may very well break out due to your beloved and loathed half brother?

Do you think Nolofinwë thought of his much loved and much loathed brother Feanor when he rode out to Angbang to challenge the Dark Lord himself?

Do you think that he thought of how he might meet his end the same way Feanor did? Riding out before the host and getting ambushed by Balrogs? Do you think he thought that this is the one way he can one up his brother? By succeeding when Feanor failed? By wounding the Dark Vala so badly he refused to leave his black walls? Do you think at the end of his life when he saw Morgoths foot coming down on him, when he raised his sword for one last strike, do you think he thought that maybe, just maybe, his deeds of valour may finally make his brother proud? That maybe he lived up to his bright, fiery, spirited brother at last? That although he may not have made the greatest works known to man, but he succeeded where bright Feanor failed?

Do you think that he searched the halls for Feanor? Even knowing he may have been condemned to the void? Or do you think he, in his last moments, cursed Feanor more than he did when crossing the ice because if it weren’t for his oath to him, his children and nephews may still very much be alive?

I cannot begin to describe just how much Nolofinwë lives in my mind rent free. The angst growing up, the resentment that built up in him every single time he gets compared to Feanor, the desperation to get to know him anyways because that’s his brother! His older brother! The one that was supposed to love him but didn’t because of his mother. Gods Nolofinwë makes me feral in a way that not even the Sons of Feanor can.

[erendur]

I've been thinking of the parallels between Fëanor (and Nerdanel, but I think Fëanor, thematically) and Niobe.

Now, Tolkien's main source of inspiration is of course Germanic/Nordic myth and Anglo-Saxon/Medieval literature (and the Bible), but I think that every now and then there is a touch of classical myths influence. Tolkien was classically educated after all, like all men of his generation/educational background, so there are things that just stick, I think. And get re-used, vaguely.

So Niobe had seven sons and seven daughters, an impressive number of children, about which she boasted to Leto, Apollo and Artemis' mum (who only had the two kids). In punishment for her hubris (blasphemous pride), Artemis killed her seven daughter, and Apollo her seven sons.

The Valar of course are not the Greek gods, and fate in Tolkien is its own thing, but when I read about Fëanor having seven sons, the highest number of children ever attributed to a single Elf, my Greek mythology brain goes "oh, this cannot end well". It's tempting fate.

And sure enough, Fëanor's seven sons all die (minus Maglor), because (in part) of their dad's hubris.

Other things I've been thinking about, and have no idea if they are relevant : Apollo is the god of music ; he plays a lyre, with seven strings on it. Maglor the musician is the only son of Fëanor left not dead at the end of the Silm.

Also random though : Tolkien being Tolkien of course, we get the seven sons of Fëanor, and zero daughters. Rather than gender-swapping, I'd like to know what it would have been like if Fëanor had had seven daughters on top of the seven sons (sorry, Nerdanel). Given what the only two Finwean women are like (Aredhel and Galadriel) are like, I think it could have been EPIC.

Lady Macbeth spirit of fire. King's Lear daughters, ditto. Shaming their brothers into going into battle, and murdering more. Plotting, despairing. Villainising, fighting. Maybe come up with better plans ? Cassandra-ing. Cursing their bros if they murder too much. Trying diplomacy. With seven of them, there would be so many great, juicy possibilities.

[sunincubeart]

[annoyinglandmagazine]

This is something that’s been in my head for a while. So in my Lesbian Halenthir AU or really any other AU where Caranthir and Haleth have a long term relationship I feel like it’s a reasonable assumption that very few other elves knew about it. Maybe her brothers at most. Like Moryo kept it very much on the down low and tbh I don’t think she’d have regularly talked about personal topics with many people anyway so it wouldn’t have really come up. So just imagine she mentions it in passing after re embodiment at a family gathering. ‘Well my wife used to say-’ ‘YOU HAD A WIFE!? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?!’

And then she just kind of casually tells them that she got married to this badass Edain chieftain and they were together for like 10 years and very happy. And this is just a hard concept for a lot of people to get their heads around because Caranthir isn’t exactly good with or interested in people so they all sort of assumed she’d never get married to the point where they never even asked her about it. And now they found out that for a decent portion of the times they’d seen her on middle earth she’d had a wife to go back to or was mourning and none of them had picked up on it.

I also find the concept that while Aegnor was off having his tragic romance that’s so dramatic and narratively beautiful there’s Caranthir, the abrasive, antisocial, harshest and quickest to anger out of the Feanorians getting married in like three months and having a really sweet domestic relationship where they’re just genuinely happy and in love with each other just so hilarious.

Like you have Aegnor and Andreth kiss chastely at most before Aegnor leaves and it’s devastating because they can never go further because he is immortal and she isn’t and then we cut to Caranthir saying fuck the narrative and passionately making out with her butch mortal gf in a tent after a homoerotic sword fight. Even in her romantic choices Caranthir manages to accidentally send the biggest Fuck You to the Arafinweans and what’s truer to her character than that?