Honestly the mere fact that some people refer to Daddy Long Legs as “harvestmen” is creepier than 90% of all deliberately created horror but like the worst part is that the alternative is calling them Daddy Long Legs
True harvestmen, and not cellar spiders which are the other Daddy Long Legs, are truly omnivorous- known to eat everything from spiders, to fecal matter, to leaves and fungus… But one of the singularly most interesting habits of a particular European species is their almost symbiotic relationship with beehives– particularly man-made beehives. When a bee dies inside the hives, workers will remove the the corpse to just outside the hive just before dark. And the harvestmen? Well, they live up to their name.
So what you’re saying is that they are the grim reaper for bees.
So because elves are Magic they don’t get cold like Legolas was hopping on snow drifts without proper shoes even. but Elrond is half human so what if he gets… chilly. Like not hypothermia or anything, but chilly like you wish you had brought a jacket. And the other elves see Elrond shiver like one time and flip the fuck out and just imagine:
doesn’t like the name his wife gives their son, Umbarto, pretends to mishear it and calls him Ambarto instead
starts a linguistics war
invents the internet
has the power to revive the holy light of heaven, doesn’t
keeps the holy light in his basement instead
MELKOR HIMSELF, Actually Satan and most powerful being in the entire world, comes to his house, Fëanor calls him a “jail-crow of Mandos” and slams the door in his face
an angel comes to stop him from rebelling against heaven, Fëanor gives such a rousing speech that the angel bows, says ok and leaves
sets his youngest son on fire
fights all the Balrogs by himself
corpse explodes out of sheer rage
Imagine Eonwë reporting back to Manwë though, like…how did that even go down??
Manwë: So, did you stop them?
Eonwë: No
Manwë: What? Why not?!
Eonwë: He…..yelled at me
Manwë: And?!
Eonwë: It was very intimidating
Manwë: *facepalms forever*
More Best Of Fëanor:
Namó: You’re in a fuckton of trouble you little bastard don’t you even think bout going to Beleriand unless you wanna get exiled the fuck out of here forever, I got enough Doom of the Noldor for everyone
Mashups and Exports 