lok1needsahug

[lok1needsahug]

is ao3 down? wtf i need my goodnight jayvik fic

(12 march 2025 00:25 am GMT+1)

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btw arcane (specially jayvik) ruined my mental health, and not in the cute e funny way “oh, they’re so cute ima read tons of ff of them just falling in love again and again to cope” because i dont either ship jayvik as a romantic thing tbh; but in the “i cant fucking get up of my bed and find a reason to live” way. like i cannot see anything on arcane if not dumb ass memes, or ill start tear up like a baby, and i am struggling with my self care as well.

i finished the series for the first time like two days ago and i am on melatonin and valerian because i can’t sleep properly and cry in my sleep without being aware

thank you fucking viktor, when i attached my soul to you and made you my comfort character i didnt mean you could just shatter it and throw it over the bridge you ugly purple fuck, my therapist is gonna be SO MAD at you fucker, i am coming at you with torch and forks.

and oh buddy dont get me start about fucking jayce

i fucking hate you sooo fucking much vikty❤️

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surprisingly, viktor is quite the hugger. Only jayce knows this, of course.

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Saggezza

Alt name: “Knowledge”

this was actually made for my ink-not-so-october challenge (its still going on), representing the goddes Athena with her sacred bird

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Ink on Paper, from draft to final, - October 2024

[lok1needsahug]

Yummy.

[lok1needsahug]

guys

guys

i need silvergifting (celebrimbor x annatar/sauron) recs, please im desperate

(ao3 preffered thanks)

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Behold~ Maglor being the drama queen I think he would have been~ (he's famous for being the best elvish singer around. No way he wasn't at least a lil melodramatic).

Side note - I know they didn't technically have a 'sun', but I wanted to draw a sunrise, so eh.

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Reblog if you say "Y'all"

[lok1needsahug]

“Would you show me a friendly face, once more?” (more writing below)

It was with the familiar smell of ashes burning her nostrils that Lady Galadriel came to the realisation that there was no fight left in her.

If she closed her eyes, she could feel them— the last flickers of a fire long burning finally leaving her body. As she stood there alone, amid the smoke blackening her sight and a tapestry of bodies she could no longer distinguish at her foot, the yearning for the pale waters of the Sea made itself known at last. She welcomed it with great bitterness.  So this was her end. The daughter of Finarfin was to set sail home to Valinor. She felt him approach like she always did: a large shadow engulfing soil, corpses and hopes alike, the blade of betrayal still fresh against her skin. She could continue to fight him— she’d done so over and over again, with different faces, different blades, each trying at eroding figments of a once shared kinship to no avail. He would remain Sauron. She would forever be Galadriel. He could not slay her just as she could never rid herself of him in full, and the acceptance of this truth once made her chest cave with grief, right between the puncture points of the crown he’d once pushed against her. “Galadriel,” he greeted her. He considered her curiously. Beneath his helmet, his eyes were glowing embers, nothing like his—witnessing the change in Galadriel, no doubt. She had never given up on an opportunity to deal a blow before, and there he stood before her, tendrils of his armour reaching to her like a black flame, yet she was not moving. He took a cautious step forward. “Are you not going to fight me, today?” She stared blankly at him—through him, through what once was, what could be, what would be. “Would you show me a friendly face, once more?” She asked instead. Tired. She was so tired. As she let her head fall against his shoulder, he stood very still. “I would,” he simply said, southern vowels scraping against his throat, low, barely loud enough for her elf ears to hear. Against all odds, he had granted her her request. Stubble scratched the side of her head as a hand gingerly held the back of her neck, and she allowed herself to feel the solace of his embrace, just this once.

She had started to diminish the day they had met, after all.

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thranduil’s so fucking stunning omfg

I will put the next one between your eyes. The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies (2014)

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Yet slain ye may be, and slain ye shall be: by weapon and by torment and by grief; and your houseless spirits shall come then to Mandos. And those that endure in Middle-earth and come not to Mandos shall grow weary of the world as with a great burden, and shall wane, and becomes as shadows of regret. The Prophecy of Mandos, The Silmarillion

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so im not the only one seeing him and saying “how fucking broad he possibly be”.

smithing has done gods work on him

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Me thinking about the fact that Galadriel says to Frodo exactly the first sentence that Halbrand, the man she was in love with, first said to her :

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Happy belated birthday to the best episode in television history dayum

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Aaaaaand that's a wrap! I'm done with drawing the Fëanorians; at least in the same style and as companion pieces.

Here's Fëanor, on his way to commit the crime he's so infamous for. And I am so incredibly happy with my progress. Because, um, when you look at my art of Maedhros and the others, they all look incredibly... thin. So either advanced stick figures or disturbingly underfed elves... I will leave it to your imaginations.