#canneth

[hptx7777]

CanNeth, Taiwatini (One-sided or internal homophobia—) and,, Uh,,, Equatorial Guinea

[bapple117]

The fact it’s Alex FUCKING Hirsch doing the ultrasound I cannot FUCKINg BRE A THE

I apologize

[weirdestbooks]

Tulips (Wattpad | Ao3)

Canneth requested by azaleacloud. It’s a bit short, as I’m not the best at romance, but I hope you like it. I think they are a cute couple, but they aren't canon to my universe; this is just me doing a request.

Waiting to pick up someone from an airport always seemed to take longer than it should. Canada had been waiting for his boyfriend for an hour, even though his flight had landed 45 minutes ago. 

“Basile! Sorry to keep you waiting. Baggage claim took forever,” Netherlands said, as Canada saw the Dutch nation approach him in human form. Canada laughed.

“That’s why you don’t check your bags, Willem,” Canada responded, getting out of the car to help him put his bags in it. Netherlands rolled his eyes.

“Okay, genius. I’d like to see you visit my country for a month and have so little luggage that you don’t have to check the bags.” He shot back, placing his backpack on top of his suitcase and moving to the passenger side door. Canada smiled, walked to the driver's side, and entered the car. 

“So, Neth, what plans do you have for this trip? Aside from the usual?” Canada asked. Blushing slightly, Netherlands then stammered out that he wanted to visit some more of Canada’s national parks and go hiking there.

“I was reading up on some of them, and Georgian Bay Islands National Park looks really cool. It’s in Ontario, so it shouldn’t be too far away. Beausoleil Trail seems like a cool hike, and it’s only 8 kilometers. It’s an easy hike, so I think it would be fun for us to do.” He rambled. Netherlands loved hiking and spending time in the wild, so he always made it a goal to visit and hike in at least one National Park while he was in Canada’s country.

“That sounds wonderful. We can stop at my house, and I can pack a bag for that trip. We can go there now and try to get a hotel room, or we can stay in Ottawa for a little while and then go to Georgian Bay,” Canada suggested. 

“Can we go to the park first? I can call hotels while you pack?” Netherlands asked, his face alight with joy.

“That would be great. It’s probably better if we try to get a hotel reservation before we arrive there.” Canada said, honking his horn at an idiot driver who cut him off. Netherlands nodded and pulled out his phone.

“I’ll start making calls now.” He said. 

“Thanks, Tulip,” Canada said, which caused him to get flustered. Netherlands always got embarrassed easily about pet names, which is why Canada loved to call him by them.

“Nada, stop doing that!” He groaned out, causing Canada to laugh. 

“Why? Are you embarrassed, petite tulipe?” Canada asked. Netherlands turned red, buried his face in his hands, and dropped his phone onto his lap. He groaned, and Canada laughed loudly at his reaction.

“Nady, I won’t be able to make any reservations if you keep doing this to me!” He said. 

“Fine. Once you make the reservation, I’ll get back to embarrassing you, ma tulipe.” Netherlands groaned again but quickly went to look up hotels. 

Canada turned his focus back onto the road, smiling smugly at his successful efforts of embarrassing his boyfriend. 

He was amazing.

[eilinelsghost]

The Reckoning of Rivendell puts Yestarë, the first day of Spring and the Elven new year, somewhere around April 6.

So first off, happy Yestarë!

And second, here's In These Holy Waters once again to mark the occasion:

Finrod’s dive cut through the surface, hardly leaving a splash as he slipped beneath Ivrin’s mere. The water was ice, as ever in these first days of spring when the falls roared down from the heights, filling the basin with snowmelt from the shoulders of the Ered Wethrin. It was a cleansing draught that woke the long slumber, winter shearing away through the glass and light.

Once, any cold plunge had borne his thought back to Yestarë and this yearly pilgrimage to Ulmo’s Well. But as he glided through the current, it was the waters of Ivrin shifting into a remembrance of that other reverence—Celon, with his wide, easy movement; Celon with his ice and his burning knowledge.

Finrod drew his mind back with an effort. He was in Ivrin’s lake, fed by the holy well, the current alive with the presence of the Lord of Waters, the brilliance encircling him. He was home.

Balan had told him once, when their dead were buried on the road from Ossiriand, of his own people’s tradition—the world had been formed from the goddess of earth, from the god of water. Each poured themselves throughout its making and each, therefore, was bound till the end of time within the rock and earth, the ice and rivers. No forms did they reveal beyond these elements, for none could they take on without drawing their sustenance out from the world. Thus through the ceremonial washing, the fallen were wrapped in Guënid’s embrace. In burial, they returned to the arms of Melishk.

So it was here, Finrod thought as he surfaced and the air refilled his lungs. The Sea would not have him, Ossë would rage if ever he drew boat from shore, Uinen would turn her face aside. The Valar no longer walked beside them in raiment of flesh, but here in these holy waters he was held again as in the sea-brine of Belegaer, and his heart sang in exultation with the hymns of his mother’s people. The melody spilled out from his lips, bright as the shimmering water, and as its echoes rippled over him from the surrounding stone, he plunged once more beneath the surface.

There through the water he felt the others suspended too within that chorus. Canneth and Lithui, Edrahil’s dive twisting round in a great loop, weightless. Sídhon wading carefully from the shore and young Gwindor hurled laughing from his brother’s arms. Gildor—dear, beloved boy��soaring through the water with abandon, hands outstretched and grasping after some elusive kinship with his father’s heritage. Each of them woven through the waves, each wrapped in Ulmo’s embrace...

[Keep reading on AO3]

[queen-rainy-love]

The American Dream: Countryhumans oneshots - Arcade Date (Poly) (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/t8coKhZs47 This is an oneshot book for the story I'm working on: The American Dream: Dating Sim. These stories will contain my versions of the characters. https://www.instagram.com/theamericandreamdatingsi/?hl=en Cover done by SonnyHun Also, this may be because of a bet.

[bapple117]

I canneth and willneth cope

source U HAVE TO WATCH THIS ONE

[arofili]

three houses of the edain ✾ house of bëor ✾ headcanon disclaimer

          Baranor was the younger son of Baran, head of the House of Bëor. He was closer to his father than his brother Boron, though it was Boron who was Baran’s heir. Baran confided in his son his resentments toward the elves who had pressed his father, Bëor, into their service, and Baranor grew to share those bitter feelings. He passed down that distrust of elvenkind to his own son, Bereg, despite his wife Canneth’s personal admiration of the elves with shining eyes and clever tongues.           Bereg was unsatisfied with only quiet mutterings about the treachery of the elves, and when he came of age he (along with Amlach of the House of Marach) began to organize an unrest among all the Men of Beleriand, stirring them up against their overlords. He claimed that their journey westward had been in vain, for the Light of the Gods was beyond an impassable sea, and danger was yet all about them.           Many hearts were swayed, and not even the revelation of the Dark King’s tricks and treachery in causing these dissensions could change the will of Bereg. Though Amlach repented of his malcontent, Bereg would not, and led a thousand of his House east across the mountains. None in Beleriand knew what became of them, but some say that the forest-people of Eryn Vorn are their descendants.

[teatimewithengland-blog1]

Date night!

CanNeth

Artist luka36 - zerochan

[funky-sea-cryptid]

imagine being one of the first people to watch macbeth imagine the fucking drama if that was me i would leave the globe theatre with my 15th century friends like “i canneth believe that macbeth killed banquo the only one he ever caredth about” id lay awake at night in my shitty bed like “holy fuck i dideth just see that” id go to work on my embroidery and be thinking “is it just i who thinks macduff and malcolms lips doth touch offstage?” i would live my 15th century life forever changed, obsessed with a play i saw once

[thetrueandrealrouxlskaard]

What is Heaven???

HEAVEN ?

I HATH NAUGHT HEARD OF SUCH A PLACE. PERHAPS’T IT ART A LAND MADE ENTIRELY OF PUZZLES.

ANOTHER DARK WORLD, MAYBEST?

WHO CANNETH SAY?

ALL I KNOWE IS…

THE PUZZLES IN “HEAVENNE” MUST BE NEARLY AS GREAT AS MINE. BUT NOT QUITE.

[444names]

common herbs+ tolkienesque forenames + italian food BUT excluding "z"

Accio Acco Achenwë Aciccil Adillher Aerisorn Aese Agor Aina Aitta Alcamse Alcetorl Aldani Alduine Aldë Alghir Almon Althe Amino Amir Amiris Amrannel Amron Anaranca Anciata Annecth Anneddur Anno Anta Antrolla Anámal Araga Aragolda Arandor Arati Arauruf Ardan Ards Ardse Ared Arers Argormar Arioli Arneli Arni Arodoren Arry Arte Arto Ashel Asilleaf Assu Atacinin Atagù Atorth Atáril Augdur Augli Augran Aver Avrino Bacen Badola Baglioni Baladûn Baldo Baradil Baranorm Barati Baren Bary Bele Belia Bella Bello Benti Beora Berb Berese Bergion Berod Bers Bifuro Biglinth Bigno Biolidur Bion Bisronna Blume Boling Bombato Boromë Boscata Bracelin Bragormo Brahi Bramra Branca Branna Brass Bratel Brio Brue Bucatond Bóri Cacanna Cacasar Caccatin Caccuil Cach Cafflo Caleman Camrast Canflo Canneth Capagon Capreg Caradach Carbolin Casta Castop Cata Cato Celast Cemo Chic Chil Cianwë Cicolic Cicotto Cilga Cilkharb Cillese Cine Cion Ciusto Clonnarl Conard Cory Costo Cottint Creddo Crel Crese Crod Croddise Crole Cron Crossë Cudwyn Cula Cularese Culë Cumanle Círdo Círimone Dano Derinen Dervin Deór Dilath Dusaf Déod Ecapero Eilmë Elchio Eldir Eleafer Elebredh Elendane Elfhele Elladish Ellan Ellico Ellow Elrod Emmandóm Endirë Ensaleaf Ercappen Erindir Erofin Eärni Eärwinor Fangon Fengwin Fennato Fetta Ficothor Fiel Fing Fingas Fino Fiseth Focch Folane Fole Fonved Fort Fridacel Fritë Froff Fros Fréagor Fuildor Fuirina Fíliatta Gald Galfwing Gand Gandur Gelen Gella Ghâd Ghâl Giandeór Gilasta Gilka Gimravi Gine Ginerb Gino Gliabal Glionna Glip Glúthôr Goldë Golina Gondenwë Gondur Gorobel Goulka Gragli Gras Grawaina Greth Grinno Grio Grofus Guemin Gungalda Gwaed Gway Haes Hain Halenwë Hanelmë Harchir Haugalan Haulë Helan Hermtor Horola Huolimen Hámani Ilrofita Imino Imir Inaca Inarry Ince Ineppera Inis Inúmita Isuir Juni Khaita Kosta Kúvandor Lalth Lasia Latniel Learviel Legir Legor Lemingor Lemor Liaglob Lialia Liant Limero Loni Lowyn Lúth Macorl Maghâl Magli Maio Mane Manth Mash Melon Meriela Merne Micelcel Moni Mont Moria Mostruf Mírim Narmin Nelli Neth Nien Nith Nithroni Náinen Nákh Nákhîm Nárin Nárina Nínime Nólia Occia Olasaga Olfinart Orin Ornhír Orobitë Oron Padri Pala Pancine Pano Pantilmo Paporië Pardary Parer Parfar Pastir Pasto Pecthel Pele Pelmondo Penatta Penna Pepesno Pery Piates Pigothôr Pikala Pithéod Prellina Prese Presting Pric Prienda Proder Ramir Ratardo Rienwë Rilma Risumin Safflo Saglue Sagno Sagory Sali Sallinyë Sallio Salmilin Sanet Saole Sati Saticati Satta Scastro Scatin Scend Schir Scioni Scon Scothano Shigli Shir Shnákhâl Silderes Silliane Sleggio Sminel Sméag Snigel Snime Sper Sperb Squand Stron Strume Sweed Súriar Tageldë Tele Terucch Testa Thir Thiso Thmo Thorb Thymeres Tierse Toherher Trië Trodres Trolina Trondi Tronwë Trosti Tuccir Tuittin Turn Turros Túriont Ufflo Uladûn Ulfwin Uruvinor Vaihir Vainise Vala Valamini Vald Valdanna Vand Vanper Vapripin Vegon Vendeno Vino Vins Violoni Vánaterb Waeging Wardur Wasagli Wila Wina Wine Winel Woronata Y��vi Éoddin Óina Óinamil Óinisu

[milliondollarhoe]

YALL IMMA FUCKEN SCREAAMMM I HAD THIS RANDOM THOUGHT THAT ULQUIORRA AND ORIHIME RELATIONSHIP IS SOMEWHAT SIMILAR* TO KOMUGI AND MEREUM'S AND I CANNETH GET IT OUT OF KY MIND NOW T^T

[bapple117]

THANK YOU SO MUCH AEUFHGHSFJHFJSHJDHJSHDJSHDJSHDJSHDJ

You are all so talented I cannot COPE

I CANNETH AND WILLNETH COPETH

Fanart Doodle

Verity OC belongs to @bapple117 and is from their fanfic that I just finished reading. I've been in such a creative state lately that I just had to draw her! Hopefully I did her justice ❤️

If you haven't read their fic, I recommend doing so!

[eilinelsghost]

It pains me to remember that almost all of the Elves in Nargothrond, including your great OCs, will eventually be slain thanks to Túrin. Do you intend to address at some point in Atandil which of them survived, or will you leave it ambiguous whether for instance Celiel died with Finduilas or escaped?

Hi anon! Thanks for the ask!

Yeah, sometimes I too forget about this when I'm making the OCs (like the marshal's little daughter in Darkly the Sundering Flood) and then remember after they're already there that nothing good awaits and get rather bummed about it.

But re whether Atandil will address the fates of the various Nargothrondrim at some point...I think the answer is probably both yes and no. Some we will definitely learn about, others will be left open to imagination. I have a decent idea in my own head what happens to each of them, but I'm not sure at this point how many of those will be directly referenced in the series itself. For example, we know Gildor survives through the Third Age, because that's where we meet him, and I have a fairly clear idea how that happens. I also know what will happen to Meril during the fall of Nargothrond etc, but I don't think either of these will be directly referenced in Atandil because there isn't really anywhere for it to be covered.

However, I can tell you with certainty that Celiel does not die with Finduilas. Nor does she escape the fall of Nargothrond. But unfortunately that's because we already know what happens to her:

Then, to his surprise, he found that his own feet were leaping forward onto the green alongside the other. He let the apple fly from his grip as he spun into the dance, spirit burning to loose himself in joy and rage, sorrow and abandon. To feel the burial braids pull tight against his scalp as he whirled beneath the boughs. They were all dancing now, he realized as he came around again to the near side of the glade, Canneth and Celiel, Edrahil and the others—reeling silently through the twilight and laughing as the quiet melody passed between them.

excerpt from Darkly the Sundering Flood

The same, of course, goes for Sídhon, who also features in that installment.

But for the rest, I'll keep the answers to myself for now since I'm not certain yet which will and won't be elaborated on in the course of the series.

Thanks so much for the ask! I'm so glad to know you've enjoyed the OCs in the series!

[thebettermaximoff]

@psylxxke​

Pietro kicked the door open and burst into the room - where Betsy was, presumably, laying about doing whatever humdrum activity passed the time when he was not around. A finger pointed dramatically in her direction. “I CHALLENGE THEE, BRADDOCK.” He slapped the wall with a resounding smack. “A CHALLENGE OLDER THAN TIME ITSELF. THE HONORED TRADITION OF PRANK WARS. THOU CANNETH NOT REFUSE.” Pietro strode up to her, eyes wide with urgency and the gravitas of the moment. He clasped her face in both hands, staring into her eyes. “I dare you to tye dye all of Emma’s clothing.” 

Alright. So he was bored to tears. 

[abendrotbrav]

why hence these accursed hands cannot work upon the drafts of thine own creation, but hath the possession of skill to answer but a meme? why tither thou hands, thy gremlin fingers, art unable to but open thine own document with the longer projects of creation? but why canneth thou only drudge up from misery the energy to answer the pale blue of the box which messages come in?