dalliansss

[dalliansss]

Thunder rumbled distantly across the sky, and Elros lay upon his bed, old and weak, though he powered through his debility with incredible clarity of mind. In the weeks and months that have gone by and have incapacitated him to his bed, he remembered with such unprecedented clarity all his years that had gone by, but particularly his childhood by the shores of the Sirion.

The ships of his father’s small fleet; Earendil’s boisterous laughter and bleached hair – Elrond clutching fistfuls of his shirt. The small fistfights he’d get into with the other children, man and elf, who bullied Elrond. How he beat them all into the dirt with all the righteous rage containable in the small body of a little boy.

He remembers too, the nights when Earendil wasn’t there, where Elwing thought he and Elrond were already asleep. Elros didn’t sleep easily, and often wandered to get an embrace from a distant mother who spent her days in nostalgia over the glory of a kingdom lost. Elwing, sitting by her dresser, admiring the glow of the Silmaril on the Nauglamir, and her expression lost as she remembers the days of her youth and splendor, when she was rightly a princess and not a half-starving refugee who was despised by her own law-mother. 

The meaner kids around the Sirion spat that rumor at Elros and Elrond to wound; that Idril Celebrindal and Tuor left because Elwing had usurped Earendil’s affections from his parents; and that Idril had quarreled with her own son and said, “There cannot be two suns in one kingdom.” and so she and Tuor left, and braved the wild seas, and were never seen again.

[a grudge / AO3]

A/N: DON'T READ if you are a Doriath stan/ Elwing stan.

[dalliansss]

“Paramount King Ingwë of the Vanyar wants to bring Entulessë to heel,” says Elrond, as he and Maedhros watch the bustling crowd outside of the restaurant. 

Maedhros gives a soft, unimpressed snort. “Not on his own idea. The old elf has likely forgotten how mundane kinging can get. It was suggested to him, more like.”

“Finarfin.”

“Who else?”

Elrond puts his chopsticks down and crosses his arms. He is upset. “I want no part in the politics of those who think that we who have sailed or re-embodied remain the same persons we had been.”

“Well then,” says Maedhros. “Make your position clear once your day to speak in Mahanaxár comes.”

“How much trouble am I going to get into?”

Maedhros laughs again. “Elrond, you are a capable elf. You have ruled on your own merit for ages. You tell me what kind of trouble you will face.”

Elrond irritably tosses his head and picks up one fried spring roll from the plate with uncharacteristic vehemence. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth and chews quite aggressively, his cheeks fluffing up. He swallows, picks up his glass of milk tea, and drinks everything down in four large gulps. Stress eater, Maedhros thinks to himself. A rather terrible influence from Maglor, who in turn got it from Finwë.

“Finarfin has two to pressure me,” Elrond says. “Celebrían and Galadriel. Celebrían has no care for it, but she will do anything for her mother, whom she loves and missed very much. Galadriel I know has little care for me ever since, but if getting me to heel will get her a seat in Tirion’s Small Council, then she will play tug of war.”

Maedhros leans forward, and steeples his fingers together. “Then concentrate your right on someone neither Galadriel nor Finarfin can bully.”

[Entanglements / Part 19 of Noldorin Finances / AO3]

[dalliansss]

more saurons!! because this is my life now!!

also definitely not sauron, just a cool friend here to help you make some cool things together

[dalliansss]

me, reading through my WIP notes/snippets folder: damn this is good someone should write this

[dalliansss]

Thunder rumbled distantly across the sky, and Elros lay upon his bed, old and weak, though he powered through his debility with incredible clarity of mind. In the weeks and months that have gone by and have incapacitated him to his bed, he remembered with such unprecedented clarity all his years that had gone by, but particularly his childhood by the shores of the Sirion.

The ships of his father’s small fleet; Earendil’s boisterous laughter and bleached hair – Elrond clutching fistfuls of his shirt. The small fistfights he’d get into with the other children, man and elf, who bullied Elrond. How he beat them all into the dirt with all the righteous rage containable in the small body of a little boy.

He remembers too, the nights when Earendil wasn’t there, where Elwing thought he and Elrond were already asleep. Elros didn’t sleep easily, and often wandered to get an embrace from a distant mother who spent her days in nostalgia over the glory of a kingdom lost. Elwing, sitting by her dresser, admiring the glow of the Silmaril on the Nauglamir, and her expression lost as she remembers the days of her youth and splendor, when she was rightly a princess and not a half-starving refugee who was despised by her own law-mother. 

The meaner kids around the Sirion spat that rumor at Elros and Elrond to wound; that Idril Celebrindal and Tuor left because Elwing had usurped Earendil’s affections from his parents; and that Idril had quarreled with her own son and said, “There cannot be two suns in one kingdom.” and so she and Tuor left, and braved the wild seas, and were never seen again.

[a grudge / AO3]

A/N: DON'T READ if you are a Doriath stan/ Elwing stan.

[dalliansss]

“Paramount King Ingwë of the Vanyar wants to bring Entulessë to heel,” says Elrond, as he and Maedhros watch the bustling crowd outside of the restaurant. 

Maedhros gives a soft, unimpressed snort. “Not on his own idea. The old elf has likely forgotten how mundane kinging can get. It was suggested to him, more like.”

“Finarfin.”

“Who else?”

Elrond puts his chopsticks down and crosses his arms. He is upset. “I want no part in the politics of those who think that we who have sailed or re-embodied remain the same persons we had been.”

“Well then,” says Maedhros. “Make your position clear once your day to speak in Mahanaxár comes.”

“How much trouble am I going to get into?”

Maedhros laughs again. “Elrond, you are a capable elf. You have ruled on your own merit for ages. You tell me what kind of trouble you will face.”

Elrond irritably tosses his head and picks up one fried spring roll from the plate with uncharacteristic vehemence. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth and chews quite aggressively, his cheeks fluffing up. He swallows, picks up his glass of milk tea, and drinks everything down in four large gulps. Stress eater, Maedhros thinks to himself. A rather terrible influence from Maglor, who in turn got it from Finwë.

“Finarfin has two to pressure me,” Elrond says. “Celebrían and Galadriel. Celebrían has no care for it, but she will do anything for her mother, whom she loves and missed very much. Galadriel I know has little care for me ever since, but if getting me to heel will get her a seat in Tirion’s Small Council, then she will play tug of war.”

Maedhros leans forward, and steeples his fingers together. “Then concentrate your right on someone neither Galadriel nor Finarfin can bully.”

[Entanglements / Part 19 of Noldorin Finances / AO3]

[dalliansss]

melkor but i used peter steele as reference

[dalliansss]

Thunder rumbled distantly across the sky, and Elros lay upon his bed, old and weak, though he powered through his debility with incredible clarity of mind. In the weeks and months that have gone by and have incapacitated him to his bed, he remembered with such unprecedented clarity all his years that had gone by, but particularly his childhood by the shores of the Sirion.

The ships of his father’s small fleet; Earendil’s boisterous laughter and bleached hair – Elrond clutching fistfuls of his shirt. The small fistfights he’d get into with the other children, man and elf, who bullied Elrond. How he beat them all into the dirt with all the righteous rage containable in the small body of a little boy.

He remembers too, the nights when Earendil wasn’t there, where Elwing thought he and Elrond were already asleep. Elros didn’t sleep easily, and often wandered to get an embrace from a distant mother who spent her days in nostalgia over the glory of a kingdom lost. Elwing, sitting by her dresser, admiring the glow of the Silmaril on the Nauglamir, and her expression lost as she remembers the days of her youth and splendor, when she was rightly a princess and not a half-starving refugee who was despised by her own law-mother. 

The meaner kids around the Sirion spat that rumor at Elros and Elrond to wound; that Idril Celebrindal and Tuor left because Elwing had usurped Earendil’s affections from his parents; and that Idril had quarreled with her own son and said, “There cannot be two suns in one kingdom.” and so she and Tuor left, and braved the wild seas, and were never seen again.

[a grudge / AO3]

A/N: DON'T READ if you are a Doriath stan/ Elwing stan.

[dalliansss]

findekáno

[dalliansss]

Good day! Your art is gorgeous (especially the Halenthir pieces, you are making me fall in love with this ship AGAIN and it was one of my favorite ships already). If you are still taking suggestions what to draw I'd love to see Cirdan in your style for two simple reasons: 1. Your style, 2. I'm not usually into visibly older men/elves but something about Cirdan does it for me.

I was surprised about how sure I am about Cirdan's facial features. I made a version with and without a beard because I liked how his face turned out so much.

I'm not currently taking suggestions anymore, but the few I have in my inbox I may or may not use as inspiration in the future.

[dalliansss]

MIDDLE EARTH MEME  ↳ [1] One movie - The Two Towers

It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn’t want to know the end, because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. 

[dalliansss]

“Paramount King Ingwë of the Vanyar wants to bring Entulessë to heel,” says Elrond, as he and Maedhros watch the bustling crowd outside of the restaurant. 

Maedhros gives a soft, unimpressed snort. “Not on his own idea. The old elf has likely forgotten how mundane kinging can get. It was suggested to him, more like.”

“Finarfin.”

“Who else?”

Elrond puts his chopsticks down and crosses his arms. He is upset. “I want no part in the politics of those who think that we who have sailed or re-embodied remain the same persons we had been.”

“Well then,” says Maedhros. “Make your position clear once your day to speak in Mahanaxár comes.”

“How much trouble am I going to get into?”

Maedhros laughs again. “Elrond, you are a capable elf. You have ruled on your own merit for ages. You tell me what kind of trouble you will face.”

Elrond irritably tosses his head and picks up one fried spring roll from the plate with uncharacteristic vehemence. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth and chews quite aggressively, his cheeks fluffing up. He swallows, picks up his glass of milk tea, and drinks everything down in four large gulps. Stress eater, Maedhros thinks to himself. A rather terrible influence from Maglor, who in turn got it from Finwë.

“Finarfin has two to pressure me,” Elrond says. “Celebrían and Galadriel. Celebrían has no care for it, but she will do anything for her mother, whom she loves and missed very much. Galadriel I know has little care for me ever since, but if getting me to heel will get her a seat in Tirion’s Small Council, then she will play tug of war.”

Maedhros leans forward, and steeples his fingers together. “Then concentrate your right on someone neither Galadriel nor Finarfin can bully.”

[Entanglements / Part 19 of Noldorin Finances / AO3]

[dalliansss]

Sauron: We have your brother

Caranthir: (not looking up) Which one?

Sauron: The loud one with separation anxiety

Caranthir:

Caranthir: So which one?

[dalliansss]

“Paramount King Ingwë of the Vanyar wants to bring Entulessë to heel,” says Elrond, as he and Maedhros watch the bustling crowd outside of the restaurant. 

Maedhros gives a soft, unimpressed snort. “Not on his own idea. The old elf has likely forgotten how mundane kinging can get. It was suggested to him, more like.”

“Finarfin.”

“Who else?”

Elrond puts his chopsticks down and crosses his arms. He is upset. “I want no part in the politics of those who think that we who have sailed or re-embodied remain the same persons we had been.”

“Well then,” says Maedhros. “Make your position clear once your day to speak in Mahanaxár comes.”

“How much trouble am I going to get into?”

Maedhros laughs again. “Elrond, you are a capable elf. You have ruled on your own merit for ages. You tell me what kind of trouble you will face.”

Elrond irritably tosses his head and picks up one fried spring roll from the plate with uncharacteristic vehemence. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth and chews quite aggressively, his cheeks fluffing up. He swallows, picks up his glass of milk tea, and drinks everything down in four large gulps. Stress eater, Maedhros thinks to himself. A rather terrible influence from Maglor, who in turn got it from Finwë.

“Finarfin has two to pressure me,” Elrond says. “Celebrían and Galadriel. Celebrían has no care for it, but she will do anything for her mother, whom she loves and missed very much. Galadriel I know has little care for me ever since, but if getting me to heel will get her a seat in Tirion’s Small Council, then she will play tug of war.”

Maedhros leans forward, and steeples his fingers together. “Then concentrate your right on someone neither Galadriel nor Finarfin can bully.”

[Entanglements / Part 19 of Noldorin Finances / AO3]

[dalliansss]

Maedhros from 2022... might start making some Silmarillion art again.

[dalliansss]

“Paramount King Ingwë of the Vanyar wants to bring Entulessë to heel,” says Elrond, as he and Maedhros watch the bustling crowd outside of the restaurant. 

Maedhros gives a soft, unimpressed snort. “Not on his own idea. The old elf has likely forgotten how mundane kinging can get. It was suggested to him, more like.”

“Finarfin.”

“Who else?”

Elrond puts his chopsticks down and crosses his arms. He is upset. “I want no part in the politics of those who think that we who have sailed or re-embodied remain the same persons we had been.”

“Well then,” says Maedhros. “Make your position clear once your day to speak in Mahanaxár comes.”

“How much trouble am I going to get into?”

Maedhros laughs again. “Elrond, you are a capable elf. You have ruled on your own merit for ages. You tell me what kind of trouble you will face.”

Elrond irritably tosses his head and picks up one fried spring roll from the plate with uncharacteristic vehemence. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth and chews quite aggressively, his cheeks fluffing up. He swallows, picks up his glass of milk tea, and drinks everything down in four large gulps. Stress eater, Maedhros thinks to himself. A rather terrible influence from Maglor, who in turn got it from Finwë.

“Finarfin has two to pressure me,” Elrond says. “Celebrían and Galadriel. Celebrían has no care for it, but she will do anything for her mother, whom she loves and missed very much. Galadriel I know has little care for me ever since, but if getting me to heel will get her a seat in Tirion’s Small Council, then she will play tug of war.”

Maedhros leans forward, and steeples his fingers together. “Then concentrate your right on someone neither Galadriel nor Finarfin can bully.”

[Entanglements / Part 19 of Noldorin Finances / AO3]

[dalliansss]

Finwë, Míriel and baby Fëanor.

but bABY FEANOR. FINWË. AND MÍRIEL.

If you need me, I’ll be crying in the corner.