imakemywings

[imakemywings]

#cool art

[imakemywings]

Asphodel

On AO3

The field upon which their last great blow against Morgoth had been turned aside was a barren expanse of sunbaked mud. Dust blew up from the cracks in the earth and whipped through the air in a thousand tiny storms; heaps of remains, of armor, of weapons, dotted the landscape, and reigning over all, the putrid Haudh-en-Nirnaeth.

Daeron had heard already of the fate of the high king of the Noldor, and he knew this wasteland had nothing for him, yet he came, unable to sever the cord of destiny around his throat. He trudged across the desolate land and each rusting trinket he passed stabbed at his heart, for it seemed to him that the fate of Middle-earth was now written, and no hope remained to them.

Because there was nothing to find, there was nowhere to stop; he only came as close as he dared to the Hill and sank down onto his knees, the gritty breeze stinging his dark cheeks. Had it been here, he wondered? Was this his resting place? It might as well have been.

Daeron had never seen a skull split with a single blow, but his imagination worked wonders in this regard: of splintered bones and rent muscles and ruptured organs, of blood pouring forth onto thirsty soil, of the obliteration of a person.

Daeron bent forward until his forehead touched the desecrated ground and a low moan trailed from his throat; he tried to subordinate these thoughts to the memory of Fingon as he had been at the Mereth Aderthad, how he had allowed Daeron to coax smiles and laughter from a heart wearied of tragedy, but he could not do it. The only other thing on which his mind would focus was his own desperate pleading just before battle: at the edge of the woods he had relinquished any remaining shreds of dignity to grasp at Fingon’s doublet, begging him to forget it, to forget his kingship and his kin and Morgoth most of all, and come into the wood with Daeron, and leave the rest behind.

In a tiny pocket Daeron had sewn inside his tunic, over the left side of his breast, was a loop of wavy black hair which Fingon had given him when he said goodbye in favor of his duty. This Daeron could still remember: How Fingon had smiled when he pressed it into Daeron’s hand, assuring him that all would be well, and when they met again, it would be under a sun which shone not upon the Enemy, and then Fingon would take Daeron to Hithlum that he might partake in the grand celebrations of the Noldor.

Seeing that Fingon could not be turned from his course, Daeron had said no more of it, and allowed Fingon to make his promises and embrace him that he might go to his end at least assured of Daeron’s affections. Now was come the shadow Daeron had foreseen, and there was nothing left over which he might mourn; there was not even a suggestion of the final resting place of Fingon Fingolfinion, prince from across the great wide sea. Once again, Daeron found himself merely tangential to another’s tale, sitting in the ruins of all that had been at the start of the tale and now was no more.

Sitting back on his heels, Daeron turned his face up to the sky, and his tears ran back into his braids.

“What I have done to make you so despise me, I repent of it,” he said to the merciless sky. “I would that you might tell me my proper penance, for I cannot bear this endless sorrow. You made me not with such strength to endure.”

The battlefield was silent; not even the buzzards lingered there.

There was nothing for Daeron in the Anfauglith, it was true: but it was the last place he had hoped to find something. In absence of meaning, of purpose, of comfort, he tore a strip of one of the banners of the Noldor, and told himself it had been the one Fingon had carried, and tucked the scrap into his pocket with the hair.

Where Daeron went when he drifted from Anfauglith none could say, for he vanished then into complete obscurity and the tales tell no more of the loremaster of Doriath and his silent flute, nor does his name cross the memorials of Fingon son of Fingolfin, the shortest-reigning of the high kings of the Noldor.

[imakemywings]

Beren and Luthien growing old together

#beren #luthien #bluthien #the silmarillion #tolkien tag

[imakemywings]

August 29, 1924 It’s funny, most people can be around someone and then gradually begin to love them and never know exactly when it happened; but Ruth knew the very second it happened to her. When Idgie had grinned at her and tried to hand her that jar of honey, all these feelings that she had been trying to hold back came flooding through her, and it was at that second in time that she knew she loved Idgie with all her heart.

FRIED GREEN TOMATOES (1991) dir. Jon Avnet

#Fried Green Tomatoes

[imakemywings]

another lotr trilogy piece. i love liv tyler as arwen 🤍

#arwen #lotr #tolkien tag

[imakemywings]

I'm seeing a lot of weird discourse about Toshiro and Laios, and nobody seems to have internalized the clear and wise lesson of the entire scene: that all festering conflicts within a community can be healthily resolved by punching each other's faces a whole bunch. We should all do that instead

#dungeon meshi

[imakemywings]

i must not get mad at mischaracterization of blorbo online. getting mad at mischaracterization of blorbo online is the mind-killer. getting mad at mischaracterization of blorbo online is the little-death that brings total obliteration. how many times am i going to type this long fucking phrase. oh wait copy paste. i forgor

[imakemywings]

a weird thing is that we got waves of people going "who cares if its cringe or youre annoying! have fun!" but no one really learned how to accept the fact that some people will find you annoying or think your art or your work or posts or anyrhing sucks and thats ok. rather it just became a weird "if people think youre annoying theyre just morally bad. let people enjoy things!". like no i think this yes man only biome sucks and people are allowed to not like artstyles and shows and media and other things

[imakemywings]

🔹 Saying that it's okay to write or read about dark and taboo topics but only when they're portrayed in a certain way is still censorship.

🔹 Wanting to ban or forbid media that you believe portrays a negative topic in a positive light, by glorifying, romanticizing, or fetishizing it is still censorship.

🔹 There is no objective metric to decide if a story is portraying a negative topic the 'right' way.

🔹 Just because a piece of fiction doesn't explicitly condemn or portray an evil action in a bad light in the text doesn't mean the author thinks its good or is trying to persuade the audience that it is good.

🔹 Survivors of trauma will not always write fiction about their trauma in a way that seems 'right' or 'normal' to you.

🔹 Banning fiction because it portrays dark, taboo topics in a way you consider gross or disgusting is still censorship.

[imakemywings]

#cool art #nsft

[imakemywings]

Due to an influx of abusive spam comments on April 21, 2024, we temporarily disabled all guest comments across the site. We have now re-enabled the ability to leave guest comments, but if you comment while not logged into an account, you may encounter a verification page that checks that you are not a bot. We are also working on other ways to help reduce spam, including a small change to the default comment settings on the work posting form that will be rolled out soon.

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[imakemywings]

Thank you!! q(≧▽≦q)

Friday Favorites (26 April 2024)

Some delightful sad stuff this week. Mood!

The Brides of Death by @squirrelwrangler. Creepy and powerful exploration of the early migrations of Men.

rain worn years by jezebel_rising. Sad unrequited Fingon, oh ow.

What Comes Naturally by @imakemywings. Heartbreaking reflections on motherhood by Miriel and Indis.

Gift of Uncertain Seas by @cycas with gorgeous art by @anerea-lantiria. Nerdanel takes the palantiri to Numenor. Marvelous Indis and Earwen and Nerdanel, and an incredible Elros.

Enjoy (and bring your tissues)!

#I need to check these others out

[imakemywings]

The children of Thráin II; Thorin, Frerin and Dís.

#the hobbit #thorin #frerin #dis #tolkien tag

[imakemywings]

The Beast that Bothers

[imakemywings]

Reunion in Eldamar

Elrond and Celebrían reuniting after centuries apart. I bet Celebrían didn’t believe her eyes when she saw Elrond standing before her once more and then she gets to find out that she will never again see her daughter 🙃😭🙃

#celebrian #elrond #celrond #lotr #tolkien tag

[imakemywings]

#dungeon meshi

[imakemywings]

you fill my soul with flesh so sweet

#dungeon meshi