I LIVE. And I have received Art from Elaphae! (commision info here: https://haospart.carrd.co/) Behold! Yarelian, the Laughing Prince, in his domain, Nightfall.
The Stonewall Inn
ojovivo
hello vonnie

Andulka
Monterey Bay Aquarium

gracie abrams

shark vs the universe
macklin celebrini has autism

Origami Around
$LAYYYTER

ellievsbear
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă

Product Placement
Game of Thrones Daily
trying on a metaphor


⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ

romaâ
One Nice Bug Per Day

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from Serbia

seen from Finland

seen from France

seen from Bangladesh

seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Italy

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Vietnam

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Greece
seen from Ireland

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
@darkshadeless
I LIVE. And I have received Art from Elaphae! (commision info here: https://haospart.carrd.co/) Behold! Yarelian, the Laughing Prince, in his domain, Nightfall.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
This is the only Elrond-hair discourse I will ever partake in but Iâm rewatching the Hobbit films andâŠ
Elrond is so smart this, Elrond is so smart that, but tell me THIS: if Elrond is all that smart then why the fuck does he, an elf who works closely with and lives in the same goddamn house as Glorfindel âCautionary Taleâ of Gondolin, aka the resident âguy who famously died because a fucking Balrog pulled his fucking hair and is now the star of moralistic bedtime stories for elflings who donât like their hair braidedâ⊠and yet every time I see Half-Elf McGee in any scene of battle he has his hair going wild and free like a Disney Princess đđđ
the FUNNIEST part is that the costuming guys did a great job working with HWâs actual hairline so film Elrond doesnât even have some thick majestic mane (because that would look unrealistic with the hairline in question) itâs just very normal fine hair and yet my guy really went into Mount Doom with his locks whipping about like a walking, talking fuck you Glorfindel Iâm built different
^glorfindel
I mean tbf Elrondâs whole everything is him looking at the mistakes of the first age, going âskill issue,â and proceeding to do the same stuff but it works this time.
- Hidden city in the mountains didnât end so well for Turgon, but Elrond? Chillin.
- Give a crazy difficult quest to the Man asking for the hand of your most specialest beautiful daughter ever? Gets Thingolâs kingdom destroyed in the long run, but when Elrond does it Middle Earth is saved and Gondor thrives.
- Gather Men Elves and Dwarves together to fight the enemy? Maedhros and Fingon get tears unnumbered but Elrond is Herald of the High King who gives Sauron a spectacular smackdown.
So Glorfindel getting murdered for having his hair loose but Elrond going âbetâ and living his best disney princess life is totally in character. Elrond is simply That Guy and thereâs nothing anyone can do about it
love the end of the two towers where gandalf looks into the sunset talking bout "yea frodo had to go it alone it was his destiny and there is no changing it he will be ok đâš" and aragorn is like "sam went with him btw" and gandalf is like "oh fuck thank god"
Coolest thing about lord of the rings? The king of horses shows up. It appears he is no different from all other horses
King of the eagles shows up later. He can talk. Horse king couldn't talk.
He didn't want to talk to you.
Uh.
Point of order.
King of Horses ran 450 fucking miles at almost entirely a gallop, without more than a few minutes rest, in 4 nights and basically was like "wait why are we stopping?" when Gandalf took him into the city and he ended up in a stable.
This was not his top speed, nor did it push any limits on his endurance.
King of horses is very different from other horses, actually.
He just doesnât do much about his administrative duties
But he didn't need to - his rule was stable, after all.
the silmarillion is wild because you read it and you're like huh okay, and then you read lotr and it turns out everyone's just going around doing their own thing while the surviving elves are living through the final chapters of a post-apocalyptic horror story
rivendell's a pretty chill place, right? everyone gets along splendidly. dream retirement home et cetera. solid chance the guy you're having afternoon tea with has either survived or personally committed war crimes. also the reason it's so chill is elrond has this magic ring that makes it so the whole place exists slightly outside normal time
galadriel's been around since the beginning, like, for pretty much all of middle-earth's history you understand, she has Seen it all and despite what you may have been led to believe is at all times this close to snapping. also the reason lothlorien is so chill is she has this magic ring that makes it so the whole place exists slightly outside normal time
i can't emphasize enough how much of a post-apocalyptic horror story thranduil lives in. homeland destroyed and half his people massacred. has fucken sauron in his backyard and the spawn of the primordial beast that eats light puttering about on his lawn. a dragon lives next door. does NOT have a magic ring and is therefore obliged to rule over his murderforest in normal time
just so we're all on the same page here, legolas' day job before joining the fellowship was to hunt the spawn of the primordial beast that eats light and it's not like, a big deal or anything. he just has to do it. he's used to it.
'elves are leaving middle-earth and it's so sad :(' they have ptsd samwise.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
aragorn's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week:
the fellowship breaks on his watch
forced to choose who to follow
runs over 200 kilometers in under four days
thinks merry and pippin are dead
meets the reborn gandalf (a rare win), immediately has to do a 180 and ride to edoras
immediately after that needs to ride to battle
takes part in a battle which takes place over the whole night
gets maybe 20 hours of sleep over the course of the whole week
and, I cannot stress this enough, this is all still very far from over
I've reblogged this already, but need to add a very important detail to this post.
In the middle of this whole mess. March 1st, aka he day that he meets Gandalf again and has to do an immediate 180.
That's Aragorn's birthday.
Happy birthday, Aragorn, my sweet blorbo â€ïž
average dnd party
Fëanorians as Florence + The Machine songs in honor of the new album:
FĂ«anor: âAre You Hurting The One You Love?â Bc of the whole accidentally ripped apart his whole family thing. Also âyouâd like to stay in heaven but the rules are too tough?â Perfect for him choosing to leave Valinor.
Nerdanel: âQueen of Peaceâ TOO perfect. Especially âAnd my love is no good / Against the fortress that is made of youâ I feel like that sums up her and FĂ«anorâs disastership so well
Maedhros: âNo Light, No Lightâ Nothing specific here, just vibes. Iâve been hearing this song and thinking of Nelyo for YEARS man leave me be
Maglor: âWhat the Water Gave Meâ because of course it is. Has that tired ocean eldritch vibe that fits our sad beach hermit. âKrakenâ was the runner up, and also works pretty well
Celegorm: âHowlâ because it just fits that wildness and tough love vibe I think heâs got going on. Also âBe careful of the curse that falls on young lovers / starts so soft and sweet and turns them into huntersâ is just such a good line for his whole character arc
Curufin: âHardest of Heartsâ his epithet was literally âthe Cruelâ it HAD to be. Also the lyrics just seem to work with the way I imagine his personality.
Caranthir: âModerationâ this one was weirdly the toughest to figure out. I want with pure vibes but if you can think of something better lmk
Amrod + Amras: (I ONLY KNOW OF THEM IN CONTEXT OF EACHOTHER IM SORRY) âFreeâ fits with the hunting and the way I imagined them. Also âim on fire but im trying not to show it,â sorry Amrod I had to
Celebrimbor: âSt. Judeâ because I will never not be in my feelings about TyelpĂ« ): âIâm learning so Iâm leaving / And even though Iâm grieving, Iâm trying to find a meaning - let loss reveal itâ so good for his relationship with Curufin and all his family. Everything hurts.
I love the idea that by Noldor standards, all of the royalty/leadership of the Second Age are completely feral.
Iâm thinking scandalously unconcerned with all the little details of court politics. Like during High King FinwĂ«âs reign, dressing/accessorizing incorrectly would be the most embarrassing thing ever or a devastating insult. A third of Fingolfin and FĂ«anorâs arguments were carried out via hair and jewelry. FĂ«anor underdressing to that one party was SHOCKING stuff.
Cut to High King Gil-galad, furiously trying to scrape together the free people of Middle Earth into something resembling a functioning government and not a post-apocalyptic hellscape. Hair fully down and not a bit of jewelry besides the crown, if that (gets in the way of helmet). Every elf born in Tirion is clutching their pearls. Lord Elrond can and has shown up to council meetings in his PJs. Not only has Celebrimbor cut his hair to his shoulders, he doesnât even bother with a circlet anymore. Curufin is rolling in his grave.
chose a hill but i won't die on it. feel free to come and be killed on my hill
#Maedhros and his history of (large) hill survival

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
the second era gang
galadriel, gil-galad, elrond and celebrimbor
If the thousands of hallways and arches of Menegroth had been designed for one thing, it was to catch and echo music throughout the hidden capital of Doriath, reaching even the farthest of caverns with the sounds of revelry. Galadriel was in one such cavern now, a simple stone balcony overlooking a large dance floor far below. A crystal ceiling allowed moonlight to shine down waterfall-like into the city, caught and held by the quartz of the floor below. The white light danced with the elves, shining reflected off fountains, silver harps, and the dark hair of LĂșthien TinĂșviel as she danced with her brother Daeron. The two shadowy figures were surrounded by a sea of other dancers, the silver-headed Teleri and darker kindred who had travelled to celebrate the Festival of YestarĂ« in the capital. âIt is not like you to shirk a party, my friend.â Galadriel smiled but did not turn as her old friend and mentor leaned beside her on the balcony. âHave you abandoned dear Celeborn to his own devices down there?â âHe is with his family â I believe his brother overindulged and required some supervision.â Galadriel replied lightly, turning at last to face Melian. The Queen of Doriath wore no crown, but was cloaked in deep blue and girt with silver. As ever, Galadriel felt laid entirely bare before her gaze. And she hadnât even withheld the truth of her familyâs crimes this time. Although arguably, the secrets she carried now were far greater than those she had borne in her first life. âSurely my daughter would rather have you for a partner than Daeron, then,â Melian prodded, smiling. âThere is no need to lurk so, this is a night for song and dance. It wouldnât do to ring in the new year with melancholy.â âI donât know that I was lurking,â Galadriel protested. She could not argue against the rest. Especially now face-to-face with the Queen. Melian closely resembled her daughter, and the famed beauty of LĂșthien had been passed down undiminished to her descendants. To think, in one life Galadriel had looked upon the grandson for glimpses of his foremother, and now in this second life she must do the opposite. âI only wanted a moment to think.â âWhat about?â Galadriel hummed a little and allowed the stone balcony to bear a little more of her weight. âThe future, I suppose,â she said at last. âHow best to prepare for it.â âYou sound as if you fear what this new year will bring us.â Galadriel made no response to this, but instead returned to watching LĂșthien dance among her admirers. Melian sighed, her gaze also heavy on her daughter. âI confess that I too have felt a shadow growing in my mind. You are right to suspect that there are dark days before us.â the Queen took Galadrielâs hand in her own and studied her, assessing. âI feel also that you are more prepared than I know. Perhaps more than you know yourself. Come now. If there is trouble before us, then that is all the more reason to enjoy our blessings now.â Galadriel smiled back and allowed herself to be drawn away and back downwards to the party. Nenya, invisible as always, pulsed where her hand was enfolded in the Queenâs.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The Time-Travel fix it continues! Now me and Celebrimbor just need to figure out how to heist the Silmarils away from fantasy Satan.
Some doodles from Chapter 50 of The Harrowing by @chthonion :D
I've had this in my head for a while, but didn't really have the time to do it till now - consider this the 'Funny version' >:D Because this chapter was angst galore and I gotta do my duty as a fanartist-
>:D
*maniacal cackling~~
I also kind of had a mental image of Fingon and that picture war recruitment poster, but instead of 'Your country needs YOU' it'd be 'Maedhros needs YOU'
But I figured the page was crowded enough :D
So y'know Chapter 44 of the Harrowing by Chthonion? I was gonna do a couple of pictures- then I got ~ideas~ - and now it's like nine pages long- but it was completely worth it đ
I was originally going to try and do a genuinely 'serious/dark' retelling of this scene, but that didn't last longer than a page, so we have both :D
@chthonion
[ID: Digital drawing of the golden One Ring with the word "oops", written in dark purple and a purple hyacinth inside it. The background is circular and light purple.]
This is an entirely self-indulgent humorous piece I doodled last night, after I read @chthonion's masterpiece The Harrowing while AO3 was down (it refers to a specific scene that I will not spoil, but that still has me laughing every time I think of it. Go read it. Seriously, it's incredible.)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
so the thing about Morrowind is that it's a game, at its heart, about uncertainty, self-determination, and the question of whether it's who you are or what you do that matters, whether you become a hero because you were destined to, or because you were the one that was there. there's a line of dialogue from Hasphat Antabolis, in the Balmora fighters' guild, that really just sums this up perfectly:
âCaius and I always argue over the role of the individual in history. Is the individual shaped and controlled by history? Or can an exceptional individual shape history? Are individuals carried in the stream? Or do they dam and divert the flow? I say Tiber Septim changed the world. Caius says that Tiber Septim was a product of his time, and if he hadnât lived, some other person would have served his function. What about you? Are you going to change the world? Or just be carried by the flow?â
but i'm not here to talk about that, because plenty of people already have. i'm just here to talk about my Nerevarine.
because the thing about Sirisare is that their entire story relies on certainty. on the absolute fact that they were, and are, Indoril Nerevar - not only reincarnated, not only in the ways that matter for the path of the Incarnate, but in all ways. a slightly changed personality, yes, but in all ways that matter, including metaphysically, this is the same man. Morrowind asks the question of which is more important, the incarnate or the mantle? which one are you, and can you even tell the difference? and Sirisare's answer to this is both.
his story is all about the painful cycle of tragedy. the way the mistakes of the past echo into the present. history is a mirror, and everything that happens to him is Nerevar's reflection. there's a point at which he literally cannot tell apart the dreams he's having of Nerevar's memories and the dreams Dagoth Ur is sending him to try to seduce him, because they feel functionally the same. so much of what he does is just chained to that cycle. like yes, the first third of the plot is functionally an ongoing identity crisis while they struggle to reconcile their own feelings with the increasing encroachment of the identity of Nerevar, but once the corprus knocks those memories fully loose, the path begins again.
and it really is reflected in everything. the pilgrimages to find his faith. proving himself and uniting the clans and the houses. Vivec asks him for nearly the exact same wording of an oath, when he gives Sirisare Wraithguard, as the oath he swore to Nerevar about using the Tools himself. in the same way that Nerevar went mad and tried to kill Ayem, resulting in the foul murder, Ayem goes mad, kills Seht, and turns on Sirisare, forcing him him to kill her. Voryn Dagoth is still under Red Mountain, bound by oath, gone mad and paranoid. everything that goes around, comes around.
but the difference here is that where Nerevar stumbled off his own path, the first time around, Sirisare doesn't. he tries to talk Ayem down - and fails, but he still tries, and it matters that he tried. he stands before Vehk and swears the same oath, and makes it very clear he will keep it, no matter what. he refuses to kill Voryn, or to be baited into killing him.
Nerevar was an unrealized Shezzarine, even standing before the Heart of Lorkhan; he just didn't know enough about esoterica to put it together. Sirisare realizes it. and in doing so, in picking up the potential they had in both lives, he changes fate - breaks the cycle, stops the tragedy before it can finish claiming their entire generation. he mantles Lorkhan (sort of. it's not really mantling if that's what you already are, but i digress) and he frees the Heart. he honors the blood of the tribe unmourned. he eats their sin, and is reborn.
and none of this, none of this works if he isn't not only the Nerevarine, but also Nerevar. because they are different things. my Vestige, Driyani, was a False Incarnate who made Nerevar's mistakes - but had Azura not set her on a different path, she could have been the Nerevarine anyway, false-made-true. the Nerevarine is a path. Nerevar is a mantle. but it was always going to be the Incarnate that took both of them, because the path was laid for him, thousands of years ago when he stepped off it to begin with. and this time the peace will last, this time things will be changed, this time he looks at the past and he chooses a better future.
and idk, i think that's really compelling. it's not a "do-over". it's atonement. you made these mistakes. now it's your responsibility to fix them.
here you are, in the same cycle your own actions created thousands of years ago, trapping everyone you loved in it with you. now prove yourself a Hero and a Prisoner and do something about it.
I think "The Hangover" movies would work better as a whole movie genre. The beginning is always the same: group of friends wake up hungover as hell, to start figuring out what the hell happened last night. Turns out a lot happened. As a tradition of the genre, there's always an animal in the house that has no logical reason to be there.
But get this: The same premise every time, but in wildly different times and places. Victorian England, the gentlemen went fuckshit with some nice sherry, wrote some questionable letters, worked together to compose an absolutely idiotic thinkpiece essay and sent it to the local newsprint (the publishing of it must be stopped) and for some reason there's an ostrich.
A troupe of travelling performers in the late Kofun period wake up in the stables of an inn, and the main plot point is the little beast sleeping on someone's chest. None of them have ever seen a cat before, but one knows enough to tell that those are imperial pets, and whoever's fucking cat that is will both be capable and willing to kill whoever stole it. So they'd better fucking return it.
A Tepehuan group of youths find themselves way out of the place that they last remember they had been, for some reason someone's balls have been shaved and painted red, and the strange out of place animal sleeping at their makeshift campsite is some random swedish guy. The spaniards don't seem to know how the fuck he ended up there, either, but they clearly do not have a mutual language with each other.