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references from celebrimbor's life ( part 1 / 2 )

the chain that was use to held celebrimbor captive was not a regular chain that can be cut through. it was a special chain that was crafted by sauron, in which the durability surpass all the materials that could break it. maedhros, celebrimbor's uncle, was hanged by one of this device, and the only way to free yourself from the bond is by cutting a part of your flesh.

wowwww

✨ Glorfindel x Reader lyrics ✨

Mʏ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Bɪʀᴅ || 𝐄𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐝 ||

A/n: I've become obsessed with him

"Little bird! Hold up...you do not know which creatures could be lurking about." Elrond shouted trailing behind you.

"How will I be able to protect you when you are unable to stay in one place for more than two seconds!" He shouted glancing at the wet stones as you seemed to be gliding across.

An airy laugh escaped your lips as you paused on one of the rocks, your fingers clutching your dress as you tilted your head to the side. "Oh yes! Protect me dear Eldron....from the ankle deep water." You teased continuing on your way.

Elrond huffed, following you on the stones, his light and careful footsteps making sure not to even get his boots wet

"I will not be mocked" His voice as he carefully maneuvered across the rocks. "The water can be hiding dangerous things and not to mention it's easy to trip....I do not wish for you to injure yourself."

Letting out a hum, you continued to hop from rock to rock until you finally reached the spot of land dropping your dress into the dirt.

"And pray tell me what dangerous things could be hiding in the waters?" You teased.

Finally managing to cross and step down on the land, he made his way towards you not even thinking about the question.

"well there could be fish" he paused "or a very angry otter maybe, or the most dangerous of all: frogs, you clearly can't take on a frog on your own"

Throwing your head back for a laugh you stepped close to the man placing your hand on his chest with a grin forming on your face."Oh yes! My dear Elrond! Please protect me from the vicious frog. He may hop at me!"

Elrond chuckled, his chest moving under your hand as he gently wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Do not under estimate the frog, their looks are deceiving"

The elf warned playfully before his arm pulled you even closer, your chest gently colliding with his chest.

Gaze softening, you let your lips brush across his cheek. "You're adorable."

"and you're reckless" he said, his tone more serious, as he felt your lips against his cheek and his breath hitched and his cheeks began to flush a very soft shade of pink, but a pink shade none the less, despite being centuries old he still wasn't used to the affect you had on him.

Letting your fingers clutch his robe, a giggle left your lips.

'How adorable' you couldn't help but think.

"Since I am so reckless...I bet you can't catch me." With a wink you gave him a playful shove then took off running through the forest.

Elrond could help but just stare for a split second, a little speechless, his cheeks a soft pink as he watched you run off before he snapped out of it the thoughts racing through his mind.

"oh that just isn't fair!"

He shouted as he started to run after you, managing to keep up with you despite you having a head start off of your earlier push and shoving, the elf was determined to catch you.

Your laugh echoed throughout the forest, feet barely touching the ground as you ran, your hair flowing behind you intending on taking him to one of your favorite spots.

The elven lord could only manage to curse under his breath,as he found it hard to catch up to you, the elf was fast and agile but his robes were slowing him down quite a bit, the only thing he was thankful for was the fact the forest was mainly open, so he wasn't having to duck under low branches and weave in-between trees to get to you.

Rushing through the fields, you slowed to a stop nearing the edge of a cliff that over looked a lake. Chest heaving as you glanced over your shoulder flashing him a grin.

"Fancy a swim?"

Holding your hand out for him, you tiled your head to the side.

It took a moment or two for the poor elf to finally catch up to you, his own chest heaving and breath heavy in an attempt to properly breathe, a hand on a tree supporting his weight.

"you...You are a menace" Elrond wheezed between breaths, before looking up at you then down towards the lake below as he grasped your hand softly.

"But you love it." You whispered, your eyes mischievous as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

A deep chuckle escaped his chest as he gently squeezed your hand. "Anything for you, my little bird."

Smile brimming with happiness, you tugged him forward leaping off the edge of the cliff still holding his hand into the water bellow.

A shout leaving his lips, a laugh leaving yours.

He would do anything for you, for his little bird.

This made me laugh finally xD

Rob is too precious for the internet 🫶🏽

Y’all have no idea how much I laughed at this one

The master of persuasion.... 💋 Celebrimbor/Annatar

This is inspired by that picture of Celebrimbor crossing his arms, you know which one. And also, Celebrimbor has been daydreaming about kisses and he got one. 💋

that was so kind of him to do, god knows Prokofiev needed it

Dmitri Shostakovich at Sergei Prokofiev's funeral, 1953.

For context, Prokofiev and Stalin died on the same day- March 5, 1953. Because Stalin's funeral was such a major event in the Soviet Union, Prokofiev's was largely overlooked, despite the fact he was one of the leading Soviet composers of his day. Relatively few people attended his funeral, Shostakovich among them.

Shostakovich and Prokofiev were not particularly close, and had a thorny professional relationship- much of the correspondence between them that I've been able to find appears to be formal criticism of each other's works. As Prokofiev was from an older generation- he was born in 1891, while Shostakovich was born in 1906- they did not always see eye-to-eye musically; Shostakovich experimented with the avant-garde when possible, perhaps in part due to his musical maturation during the socially-liberal NEP era, while Prokofiev's style tended to be more conservative and neoclassical- picking up more influence from Imperial-age composers and fellow emigres to the west (he lived in France and the United States before returning to the Soviet Union in 1936). Their generational difference also partially accounted for how they responded to harsh government criticism- Shostakovich was impacted by the consequences of his 1936 denunciation all his life and, while he suffered greatly during his second denunciation in 1948, was able to develop public and private personas, in both the musical and ideological spheres, to preserve himself and his artistry. However devastating as it was for Shostakovich, the 1948 denunciations took a greater toll on many other composers, Prokofiev included. As Prokofiev did not believe he would be harshly denounced as Shostakovich had been in 1936, he was far less prepared for the censorship and attacks he faced in 1948. As a result of the denunciations, combined with his declining health, his artistic productivity decreased, and he largely regulated himself to writing basic ideological works towards the end of his life.

This is a letter Shostakovich wrote to Prokofiev on the subject of his Seventh (and last) Symphony:

There's speculation as to whether or not Shostakovich was actually impressed by Prokofiev's Seventh Symphony. As Prokofiev was in decline at the time of writing it, the symphony has been criticized for being banal and not being particularly innovative; Rostropovich even claimed that Prokofiev added in its final flourish not for artistic purposes, but to have the piece nominated for a Stalin Prize, which would have meant money and a boost to his reputation after it suffered in 1948. (The Stalin Prize has its own complicated history in its role in Soviet music, and although it was the highest award a Soviet composer could earn, it could sometimes be awarded as a sort of backhanded punishment- an encouragement for composers to write the "right" sort of music, especially after they had been criticized for "formalism." Nonetheless, winning it after suffering a denunciation could mean financial and political security.) Did Shostakovich- who had often traded criticisms with Prokofiev over music- actually like this piece, or was this an effort to encourage a fellow artist to keep composing after suffering mental and physical ailments? This was a private letter and not a public statement, and Shostakovich was typically very straightforward about critiques, so if the entirely positive sentiment for the piece wasn't genuine (the only critique here is that Shostakovich says he wishes the entire symphony was encored!), the letter may have come from a place of concern.

Perhaps the most striking thing about this letter is the line, "I wish you another hundred years to live and create. Listening to such works as your Seventh Symphony makes it much easier and more joyful to live." Maybe by telling Prokofiev that he wished him another hundred years to live and create, Shostakovich was not simply praising the symphony, but encouraging Prokofiev- a composer whom he was often on icy terms with- that he needed to keep living and creating, during a time when it was becoming more and more difficult for him to do so.

Watched this film recently, loved it

Waterloo (1970)

Ts pmo sm icl💔

sweet

In This Lifetime

I WROTE THIS FOR YOU @morganas-pendragons <3 Hope you like it!!!

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Golden leaves fell slowly off of the giant tree that overlooked the great elven realm of Lindon. They were a sure sign of the end that was creeping closer every day. By the time they would have all fallen, the elves would become nothing more but lingering fragments, a sign of a great race, trapped in time. 

Standing there, in front of the Great Tree, did not help ease your mind as you had originally hoped it would. When your mind was in chaos, the mere sight of the tree could usually bring back your peace. This time, however, it brought upon nothing but sorrow. Knowing the fate of your people, and knowing you could do nothing about it, left you in despair.

“These rings, they could save our people. They could save the entirety of Middle Earth.” The words of your closest friend echoed through your head at that moment. He spoke highly of three rings that he claimed to have the power to prevent the disastrous fate that you were stuck dwelling on. Though you knew not of any such power. You feared what would happen if such rings were to be made. It would be no different from going against the Valar themselves.

“Do you still believe that the rings are a bad idea?”

His voice startles you as he comes to stand with you, under the tree. He gazes up at it, contemplating something that you believed to be far beyond your comprehension. He was always thinking of something, but that is what made him into the genius he is.

“They will forever be a bad idea, until you can create them in a way that does not disrupt the natural order of things.”

Your response caught him off guard. When he had proposed the idea to you, he did not imagine that you would linger on it for so long, nor that you would think so deeply about it. Though he did admire that about you. Your mind worked in wondrous ways.

“What if I could convince you that the rings are working parallel to the natural order? They would not stir up any trouble.”  He held your hand gently as he spoke, and while you wanted to believe him, you found it hard to do so. 

“How would you convince me?”

“Come back with me to my forge. Let me show you how I wish to make the rings.”

A part of you wanted to fight back, but his sweet words, his gentle voice, it all swayed you to follow him back to Eregion.

His forge was nothing short of breathtaking. Gems and other beautiful trinkets were placed carefully around the room. The light from the setting sun showered the room in a beautiful, soft glow. You couldn’t help but to be reminded of the early days in your friendship with Celebrimbor. He would often have you stay with him while he worked on his latest project, claiming that you were like a good-luck charm for him.

”Come, have a seat. I’m gonna make some tea and then we’ll get into the rings.”  He led you to a rather soft looking chair and then hurried off to make tea. He was always so hospitable to you, even after the countless times when you would tell him that he didn’t need to be.  

A sudden crashing noise, from the direction he was in, had you on your feet and racing towards him in a matter of seconds. It seemed as though he wasn’t quite paying attention and had dropped one of his teacups. Hardly something to cry over.

”What happened? Are you hurt?”  You slowly walked towards him, so as not to startle him.

”I was making tea and the cup was in my hand, it was so secure. I have no idea how it fell.”  He was staring down at the cup as though it was a wounded animal. This would have been quite amusing, had you not been so concerned from the start.

”It is just a cup, my dear friend. There is no need to be so upset over it. Here, let me help you clean it up.”  You grabbed a nearby towerl and  knelt down beside the broken cup. Before you could even start picking up the pieces, you noticed little spots of blood, which you deduced to be his.

”Celebrimbor?”

”Hm?”

“Let me see your hand.”

You stood up again and extended your hand, waiting for him to offer his. But he hesitated.

”I am fine you know, there’s no need for this. In fact, I can clean the cup up myself. You should go have a seat, my dear.”  He tried to usher you away but you stood your ground.

”Hand. Now.”

He hesitated for a second longer before finally giving in and placing his hand in yours. Despite being a master smith, he had quite soft hands. It dawned on you then that you had never really held his hand before. You carefully examined it and found a small yet deep cut on his ring finger.

”Your hands are your best tools, Celebrimbor, you cannot hurt them.”

He sighed at your words. You brought him back to the main room and found a clean cloth and some ribbon. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only option at that moment. You brought him over to the chair you were previously sitting at and sat him down, squishing yourself in, between him and the arm rest.

”You know, you could just heal it.”  He looked down at you with a playful smile on his face.

You frowned at him. 

“No. You and I both know that my healing abilities are hardly something to rely on.”

”It is a small cut, my dear. I believe in you.”

”Celebrimbor-“

”I trust you with my entire being.”

His words made you freeze. You had been friends with him for many, many years. It was only natural for you to develop feelings for him, even though you had convinced yourself that he wouldn’t feel the same way. So to hear those words from him now…it made your heart flutter and suddenly, the room seemed way too warm.

You said nothing in response as you carefully cleaned the cut and prepared to heal it. Your healing abilities were not at a level where you could save someone from the brink of death, but it should be good enough for this.

A soft, light blue glow shone from your hands as you hovered over his cut. You closed your eyes, focusing your energy on healing him. He watched you carefully, admiring the focused look on your face while also taking in how beautiful you were. Especially this close.

”There, it should have worked.”  You slowly opened your eyes and examined his finger. The cut was gone, not even a scar left behind.

”It would seem as though you are not giving yourself enough credit, my dear.”

He smiled gently at you as he flipped his hand around in yours and intertwined his fingers with your own. “I should keep you here with me, to be my personal healer.” He laughed as he said this but he was only half joking.

”That would only work so long as you do not injure yourself gravely.” You slowly pulled your hand out of his and brought your other one up to cup his face. ”I cannot lose you, and I would not be able to save you.”

It was more than a profession of love. You were telling him how you had felt for many years now. You couldn’t live without him. He had left such a lasting impression on your life that it would feel like a void if he were to leave.

”Lucky for you, I do not intend to go anywhere. I will stay right here with you, for as long as you will have me.”  He closed his eyes and leaned into your hands, relaxing against your touch.

You sighed deeply, letting go of all of the worries you held earlier. Your hands seemed to move on their own, as they traveled upwards and gently traced the outer shell of his ears. He let out a soft sigh and tilted his head back, letting his head fall deeper into your hands.

Oh how he had been waiting for this moment. He longed for your touch, for you to hold him, to know that you felt the same as he did. The feeling of your delicate fingers running along his ears, it made him feel as though he was touched by the Valar themselves. He felt invincible. You made him feel invincible.

”My dear?”

”Should I stop?” You slowly started to pull your hands away but he quickly grabbed them and held them in place.

”Do not stop. Please.”

His voice was so soft, full of love and desperation. He needed you more than he needed air. You were his lifeline.

”Marry me?”

You dropped your hands in shock at his words. He was staring at you now, his eyes full of intent. He truly wanted you, there was no doubt about that.

”Celebrimbor? Do you truly mean it?” 

“With every breath in my body, with the very blood that runs through my veins, I mean it. You are more precious to me than anything I have ever created, more beautiful than any jewel in the universe. You are my everything. Please, Y/N, marry me.”

He was holding your hands in his now, his face mere inches away from you. You leaned in to him, your lips were hovering over his now. 

“I will marry you. In this lifetime and in every one in the future.”  

He could not longer find any words to say. He instead decided to pull you onto his lap and hold your head in his hands. Reciprocating your earlier movements, he traced the tips of your ears before pulling you into him and kissing you. Your little noise of surprise was drowned out by his deep sigh as he deepened the kiss, leaving you both absolutely breathless.

He finally felt as though he had everything wanted in his life. You always were the missing part of his life. He silently vowed to never let the world harm you, for as long as you both lived. As you had said, in this life, and every one in the future.

Preview - More Than Life Itself (Severus Snape x OC)

Author's note: Hey! It's my first time properly publishing a Potter-related story, and the above GIF should give you guys a pretty good idea which part of the story this preview is from. I feel that Severus Snape is one of the best characters ever written, and I'm reimagining him with one of my oldest OCs. Have fun reading! Feedback and comments appreciated!

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“All this time,” she growled, marching closer to him, “he trusted you. Dumbledore trusted you! And you…you killed him, just like that!” The tip of her wand touched his chest, and she shoved him hard. He didn’t fall, and he just stood there, staring at her.

“Say something…you prick! You coward. Say SOMETHING!” Helena screamed, marching closer again, the tip of her wand up against his throat. Tears rolled down her face as she mourned, for the Headmaster that Hogwarts once had, and the man before her, a man she thought she understood. Now she knew that she had barely scratched the surface of the lake that was Severus Snape.

He reached up, grasping her wrists and gently pulling her wand from his throat. He gave her a look that was both intense and filled with something she couldn’t decipher. His lips moved, saying words so silently she couldn’t hear them, but she could’ve sworn he said, “Please trust me.”

But how could she?

With that, he had marched after the Death Eaters retreating from the Hogwarts grounds, his figure growing ever smaller. Helena sunk to her knees, letting out a loud scream filled with anguish, for the darkening of the world as she knew it. She vaguely registered Hagrid putting out the fire lighting his hut ablaze, or him and Harry walking over to her. Hagrid’s hand landed, surprisingly gently, on her shoulder.

anyone would be a fool to say no to him

starting a new little thing called

Textpost Tuesday™

because who doesn’t love a good acronym am I right?

enjoy, xo