#elvish genetics

[theneverfadinglands]

I am not writing as a means of scolding you in any way.. I just wants to point out this is not how genetics work. 50/50 split really works only for the first generation, but then the division is random. To simplify it: Finwe married Indis, their sons are 50/50. Imagine it like a pie half of it is with strawberries and the other blueberries. Then you divide it and you can divide it in infinite ways, you can get a half that contains 20% strawberries and 80% blueberries for example. Yet it is still a half od the pie. Let's say that the gametes work in similar way. Elrond can be 50% Sindarin or he van be only 10%. I think the races of elves are at the end more of a societal construct, because you can't just divide it like that. That is the reason why you may have two arabian-coldblood crosses who look nothing like an arab horse and get a very arab-like foal out of them on accident.

Elrond is Not Noldo, a colourised guide

Maia, Sinda, Noldo, Vanya, Beor, Hador

Melian - Thingol Nolofinwë - Anairë Lúthien - Beren Turgon - Elenwe Dior - Nimloth Tuor - Idril Elwing - Eärendil Elrond

Elrond: 31.25% Sinda 25% Hador 15.625% Vanya 12.5% Beor 9.375% Noldo 6.25% Maia

56.25% elf, 37.5% man, 6.25% maia.

Arwen’s genetics under cut (for fun)

Teler

Galadriel - Celeborn Celebrian - Elrond Arwen

Arwen: 40.625% Sinda 14.0625% Vanya 12.5% Teler 12.5% Hador 10.9375% Noldo 6.25% Beor 3.125% Maia

78.125% elf, 18.75% man, 3.125% maia.

[theneverfadinglands]

Theoretical Noldorin Hair Colour Genetics

Hello, long time no see. I was busy studying, I hope it would make Fëanor proud. Perhaps he would be displeased with my grades but he may find my baby research work at least a little bity interesting. However I might at least put my biology degree to some use, so I did this hair colour inheritance chart. Fëanor and Nerdanel are straightforward and easy to conclude, there is only some doubt about the genotypes of Caranthir, Curufin and Maglor. It is possible for them to be both Mr and Mc genotype. But it creates interesting possibility, Celebrimbor as rc – red hair. I think red-haired Celebrimbor is my new favorite Celebrimbor. His mother would have to be cc – silver haired Teleri/Sindar.

Some difficulties arrose in the Finarfin's family tree. Finarfin himself must be Lc – golden haired heterozygot, because Finwë can be only Mc (which also creates this alternative possibility for cc Fëanor, but it would change the colours of all his offspring's hair to silver or red). Eärwen should have golden hair herself, because then it is:

F1: Lc x Lc

F2: 1LL : 2Lc : 1cc

fenotype: 3 gold, 1 silver

If Finafrin is Lc and Eärwen cc then

F1: Lc x cc

F2: 2Lc : 2cc

fenotype: 2 gold, 2 silver

I came to the conclusion that Eärwen has gold hair.

Another interesting thing I found out is the fact that if Elrond and Celebrián have had more children they might get a surpirse blonde or silver haired child, because Elrodn is either Mc or ML if Nimloth is cc. Which I assumed since her father is Galathil, brother of Celeborn. Although there is a possibility that Galathil is Mc, if his mother is Tatyar Avari descendant Mc, then Celeborn cc and Galathil Mc is plausible. Therefore Nimloth might be Mc or even MM.

I also added Gil-Galad. I think if he would be blond it would actually be interesting explanation for all of that parentage confussion. He might be considered Fingon's son, looking similar to him but with gold hair, which would be possible if Fingon is ML and mother is LL, Lc, cc, rc. So he might pass as Fingon's son, same for Orodreth who has blonde daughter. If Lalwen is ML and Círdan cc, then Gil-Galad might be Lc. If Lalwen is Mc then he might be Mc or cc, black or silver fenotype.

[dullgecko]

(More Study Goblin stuff)

On Riz’s desk at the LPRTF is a picture of the first warlock he was the patron of. They look like a half minotaur* named "Cathy Seacaster"

*did some research and couldn't find a definitive answer to how genetics work for when a half-elf has kids

Riz was dead and and Fabian still had at LEAST 130 years left of his life to live. Sure they still talked pretty regularly but that was no reason for him to spend the rest of his life alone. That being said, Fabian never got married the entire rest of his life. Sure he had partners but never made any vows.

Time was weird in Elysium so Riz had been very shocked when the half elf turned up at his grave one day with a tiny child. All big ears and horn nubs and tiny little tail but overall pretty elvish in their facial features. Fabian introducing his statue to the child as 'Uncle Riz' which just made the goblin melt. This kid was going to be so fucking spoiled, and if that meant working out how to grant magic then so be it.

[erendur]

Crack Silm relationships I'd like to read about

It would completely ruin the story and Jirt’s intents, structure, motifs and characters, but at least I could read the Silm without going “No, not the ruin of Beleriand again ! Ah, no, please, not the third Kinslaying, I can’t !”.

Maedhros and Lúthien.

He has trauma, looks much the worse for wear after his captivity, and would definitely piss off her dad as a choice of boyfriend (rebel teenage Lúthien energy). She is the most beautiful (self-explanatory), a unique type of Elf-Maia being (Noldor like novelty and are curious), spends a lot of time singing which I guess would foster a sense of comforting familiarity in one wounded not just in body but also in mind ?

Anyway, they could have a great Wounded Beast who Swore a Stupid Oath and Committed Some Crimes and Eldricht Beauty I Can Fix Him dynamic.

They both hang out in forests enough that they could easily meet. She would take him of a stealth mission to steal the Silmarils. He would borrow his brother’s knives (one knife per Silmaril), and they would be successful. Huan could give a hand out of family solidarity. Morgoth would be to stunned/ashamed/doesn’t really like to move his ass from his throne anyway so nothing much would happen immediately. They would still be at war and Morgoth would make more monsters and bid his time.

Lúthien could wear the three Silmarils on a crown. Maedhros would be very happy and proud. She is canonically the prettiest Elf ever and he is “well formed” so they could have the prettiest babies. And actually, and I’m very aware that is not at all how genetics work, but they would have Lúthien’s canonical descendants as their babies. That’s 7 of them, which sounds like an adequate number of sprogs for a Fëanorian (no need to change the family sigil !).

Eärendil and Elwing would be the elder, a twin brother and sister. At some point in their teens (Elvish teens, they’re in their thirties), they decide to take a Silmaril from their mother’s jewellery box and to go on their own little stealth mission to save the world, after having spend too much time with their Uncle Fingon. Since Elwing is very eldrichty and can change into birds, and Eärendil can (check note) make boats, the missions is of course a total success. Guided by the light of the Silmaril, they eventually land on the shores of Valinor where they immediately start singing a moving song about the plight of Middle Earth. Eärendil accompanies the song by playing Fingon’s harp (he knows how stealth missions work and of course took Fingon’s silver great harp along with his mother’s jewellery), Elwing leads a chorus of seabirds at key moments.

The Valar are of course moved (have we mentioned how pretty they both look ???), they send an army to Middle-Earth, Eärendil and Elwing are given the right to spend their life travelling between Middle-Earth and Valinor by the Valar as a reward. Eärendil choses to do the trips in the sky on his boat (because he can), his mum’s Silmaril on his forehead, the shadow of Fingon's harp clearly visible against the light of the Silmaril. The Fëanorians are totally cool with it, since he is himself a Fëanorian.

Elwing eventually settles in Tol Eressëa where she becomes Queen of the returned Elves, and therefore beats her Aunt Galadriel to the post by about an age at being the first reigning female ruler among the Elves.

Dior would be kept well away from making any sort of political decision. Given his clearly incredible fighting talents though, he would either end up being Celegorms’ favourite nephew and heir, or, my favourite version, he would take over the cavalry and the Gap from Maglor, who would be able to finally go chill somewhere and write some music.

Elured and Elurin would eventually inherit Doriath, just because. Or they would go and live a wild life of hunting and hanging out in the forest with their uncles Ambarussa. They’re still twins.

Elros and Elrond are obviously still twins as well. They are born very shortly after Elured and Elurin, and since that’s a lot of eldricht peredhil twins to have under just one roof (just the weather is wild, people are begging Mae to do something about it), they are given to foster to another family member as per Victorian family traditions. This family member is, of course, Maglor, who doesn’t really get to chill for very long after all. Since he’s no longer in charge of the cavalry or a super-hard-to-defend position, he raises the twins.

Elros of course is now an Elf-Maia peredhel, and doesn’t have to die. He still founds Númenor and becomes their king, because someone with the gift of prescience finally used it for something useful and figured out that these guys could really do with a wise, immortal ruler, who wouldn’t, you know, suddenly decide to go and invade Valinor once he finds the burden of mortality too hard to bear. Elendil is his son. Isildur his grandson. He is kept well away from rings.

Elrond is pretty much the same, but with less people around him having died/disappeared/been killed. But he’s too awesome to be different. He’s still the same “kind as summer” dude. He becomes his father’s heir, because he’s just too awesome. Everybody thinks it’s a great choice, because he is too awesome. He’s bestie with his cousin Gil-Galad, the High King. 

That turned out to be a longer post than intended so I’ll post the rest later.

Crack Silm Relationships I'd like to read about II

Crack Silm Relationships I'd like to read about III

Crack Silm Relationships I'd like to read about IV

[growingingreenwood]

Random headcanon that the other elvish realms think that the Greenwood Elves have SOME-FUCKING-HOW developed **significantly** superior hearing compared to the rest of the elvish cultures/races. When I say 'significantly' I mean so significantly that it genuinely scares them a little bit.

A lot a bit.

It seems to them that the Greenwood Elves are capable of hearing and understanding even whispered conversations from MILES AND MILES AND MILES AWAY. Even when the distance is so great elvish eyes cannot even see a dark spec on the horizon, Greenwood Elves can still successfully eavesdrop on what is happening.

The other realms have, of course, come up with many of their own theories as to why and how they're capable of such things. Including but not limited to: Evolution that happened after most of the Noldor left for Valinor to help them survive the Dark Scary Times, a permanent enchantment of Melians that can be genetically passed down to one's offspring, an Extremely Elaborate Lie, a side effect of one of the plants that they eat, a sign that they've made a deal with Melkor to be his spies (this theory is banned from being openly spoken about in Imladris, if it is, you get 1 single warning before Elrond yeets you out of the valley his damn self. You are not welcome back for at least 100 years, and you have to apologize before you're allowed back in.)

There is, of course, an incredibly simple and straightforward reason for this perceived 'super-hearing' which is: The elves don't hear things, the trees do and just relay the information (or at least the gist or important bits) back to the elves. They can hear what you say from 1000 miles away because there's trees literally everywhere.

But since the other realms don't speak to/with the trees in the same capacity as the Greenwood Elves, the thought that this is possible literally never occurs to them. And the Greenwood Elves think the entire situation is too funny to ever explain it.

[eri-pl]

How are orcs made?

(...also, a bit about Maeglin) Elaborate HC, long post.

TW: discusses breeding of orcs (no descriptive language etc, but implied sexual violence. Also, mentions / implications of torture, child abuse, and domestic violence. Probably something I forgot... generally: it's about orcs. Canon-Typical Level Of Disturbing

I was watching more lectures about Tolkien's later writings, and another discussion of orcs got me thinking: what if it's not one answer, but many? This would solve some problems, paradoxically.

So, I propose

1st gen orcs are indeed corrupted elves (or also men, both can work). The physical corruption (including the hroa being not fit for the fea, which in mundane terms, includes many neurological imbalances leading to mental issues) is partially hereditary.

It is there but it weakened with each generation.

They do have souls, of course, and their kids (orc+orc kids, orc+ elf kids, orc+human kids) have souls, because that's how having kids works. Souls aren't initially corrupted, because Melkor can't make it so, but the physical problems + traumatic upbringing (violence both from family and by a Dark Lord) make it hard for those souls to be good.

This makes them insubordinate and rebelious, but smart. (here we can have rebellious orcs)

However, if such kids are not "worked on" (ie additionally corrupted in the same way as orc-making process, they just need less amount of it), with a few generations they revert basically to Elves, physically and behaviorally. I'm sure it had happened many times in history, whenever the forces of evil lost control over some area and orc tribes were left unsupervised.

However, working on may be (and likely was) imposed on their culture, so that even without external supervision they would keep orkish for more generations than they would without it. Unless something disrupts the mechanism.

What life spans do they have? OK, that's a hard question. I would say that there is a threshold of corruption, and more corrupted elf-orcs have long but finite lives

What's with their souls? Mandos, some are locked indefinitely due to Namo not being able to fix them, as per Tolkien's notes. Some get better.

Also, as with normal elves, any human ancestry => the base type is human.

Maeglin (and also Eol). We know Eol was Thingol's family. I propose: one of his parents was someone close to Thingol, the other was a descentent of orcs, but at this point elvish enough for them to legit fall in love (yes, let's make it not-that-traumatic). still, there was probably violence in the family, and Eol had some genetic traits that made it harder for him to make good life choices. (Also, generational trauma of hiding from being recaptured => his isolationist tendencies)

But why do I focus on Maeglin?

Maeglin gets captured. He isn't tortured. He is simply informed what he is. What his ancestors were. What he can again become.

He is given a choice: share the location of Gondolin willingly, and get some instruction on how to better side and soothen your physiological issues, then go home. Or not share it and become as your ancestors were. And then you will share it anyway.

Still I don't consider him a good guy but in this scenario he's less guilty of all his BS (and so is Eol) and the location-of-Gondolin business is outright understandable (lack of estel, sure, but who doesn't lack it? even the Valar have issues here.). Also, after the betrayal he had a lot of time and he could and should at least run away from the city leaving a letter about what he did. They would evacuate.

Anyway back to orcs.

Another type of further-generation orcs: the soulless. I'm not sure whether some kind of magical cloning, or something more nasty, but the result is beast-like orcs. No soul, no free will. Stupid. Ape-like but there are some fixes to this:

Necromancy. When you have a functional, but soulless body, some unhoused spirits may want to make a deal with you. They work for you, they get to experience having a body again.

And some spirits are to weak to protest.

Still may be rebelious, but smart and probably more powerful. Possibly cannot reproduce?

Magic AI So when Tolkien wrote the Silm, an idea of "automaton" was something primitive and not talking, so he at times had a problem with "orcs are constructs but can talk". But. Today we know how much talking can be done without a soul.

So basically, there's a magic AI imbed in each orc, probably all from one template (or a couple templates), because dark lords aren't very creative.

Still not very smart orcs, also probably need more power expenditure to create than other types. May breed among themselves (and with souled creatures) resulting in more of them, but each young still needs the AI put in. Maybe the AI-inserting process can be automated with an artifact (loaded with an amount of power to last for some time) and the orcs may be taught to deal with their newborns themselves.

To sum up: This HC allows us to have all of

orcs have free will and can rebel

some orcs don't

being an orc is hereditary (mostly) and even without a Dark Lord, orkish tribes would remain active (for some time, but we can make it enough time for the plot to work, probably, it takes generations especially if they are taught to deal with their newborns to maintain their orkishness)

We keep to the idea that Melkor cannot make anyone hereditarily evil (Tolkien thought it important)

angsty part-orc Maeglin

evil, scary ghosts of FA elves put in orc bodies (not everyone would gogently into Mandos) (Maedhros. I mean mostly Maedhros) (but also Eol would be so ironic)

some orcs are more powerful than they look and are scary

enough of orcs seem mindless so that the good guys may (tragically) assume that they all are and are free to kill. (I need a fic in which they learn)

it is natural that after Sauron's defeat orcs would disappear, but slowly, not in one generation

It doesn't allow us to make the "killing orcs for sport" non-evil, but it allows us to make it a "they didn't know and had reasons to assume" kind of evil, ie doesn't make the protagonists of LotR evil. (just tragic but I can live with it)

[animatorweirdo]

Unexpected Reunion

You reunite with an old friend and hear about events that occurred during your time on ice. You decide to set your feelings to the side and start gathering ingredients for your medicine. Unfortunately, your trip to find Moonflowers takes a dark turn when you discover two possibly orphaned elven children and reunite with someone you hoped to avoid.

() = Elvish

Warnings: mentions of the second kin slaying, dead characters, angst, mentions of being frozen, troubled feelings, going through woods alone, smelling blood and smoke, nearly getting stabbed, fear, hiding, and getting a blade on your neck.

Chapter 2

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The water nearly tickled your skin. You took in a deep breath before allowing yourself to be fully submerged in the warm water. A satisfied groan left you as your muscles relaxed from the warmth and the weightless sensation. Soap foam and bubbles floated above the water, and you finally scrubbed the dirt, sweat, and grease from your body. 

Taking a bath had never felt better after traveling in a sickened untamed land and walking around the city the whole day without a destination. You need to thank Melui for letting you take a bath and stay the night at his house. 

You leaned against the bathtub’s edge and stared at the ceiling, wondering about everything that had happened. It was no wonder so many things had happened. It's been over sixty years. 

How did you survive sixty years in ice? 

It was no mystery why Camilla would think you had died. You were certain you were dead too when those spirits caught you. You could still hear Camilla's scream at the entrance when the spirits froze your feet, making you unable to move. You could still remember reaching out to her hand before the ice froze your whole body and your mind got taken by the cold darkness. 

A tear fell from your eye when you thought about your friend. If it's been sixty years, then there was a high chance that Camilla had already passed away from old age. You doubt she could have survived as a ninety-year-old granny when Beleriand was in a state like this. She was smart and resourceful, but even she had limits. Not to mention, her family had some genetic illnesses that should act up during old age. 

You took a deep breath… trying to prevent yourself from breaking down in tears. 

You wonder how Maglor reacted to your supposed death. There was no doubt that he would have been devastated. After seven years of a happy relationship, you suddenly die of sudden circumstances. That would definitely have a negative effect on him. Could your death have taken a part in his spiraling to such a path? 

How would he think if he knew you were still alive? 

You shook your head and tried to stop thinking. You first need to ensure that the things you have heard about him are true. If anyone knew better what happened in Doriath– it would be Melui. In the meantime, you will also believe Camilla might still be alive, living in a lone cottage with a hundred cats, or something, until you learn more about her fate. 

After cleaning yourself, you arrive at the kitchen area, drying your hair with a towel and wearing borrowed clothes. Melui was preparing dinner and two vials of familiar-looking liquid sat on the table. 

Melui's home was big and rather nice. The kitchen area was attached to a large living room on the left while a set of stairs were on the right, leading to upstairs where bedrooms were located. The design of the walls and the colors were rather calm and different than what you were used to seeing in Himring. The house was empty since Melui’s family was away and Melui had stayed behind to watch over it. 

"Hey, (Name). How was the bath? Good I hope," Melui questioned after setting a pot on the table. You looked in and smelled something delicious, fish soup perhaps? 

"Yeah. It was good since it has been sixty years since the last time I took a bath," you said, making Melui release a chuckle. "You sure your sister doesn't mind me using her clothes?" you questioned as you adjusted the blouse and the dress. "It's fine. Those are pretty old so I doubt she even remembers having them," Melui said as you took the vials and drank the content. 

You grinched at the taste after drinking them both. "I never get used to this taste. Thank you for making them for me. The beast has been silent but I do not want to take any risks," you said and set the vials back down on the table.

"It's alright. I'm happy to help you with anything," Melui replied.

"Thanks... good to know you're still around at least. I don't know where I would be if you didn't find me," You smiled. Melui returned the smile. "Come on. I prepared some dinner and perhaps you can tell me in detail how you survived sixty years unchanged," he said and you both sat at the table to eat dinner. 

The dinner went smoothly even though you weren't a big fan of fish food. Melui had somehow made them taste delicious. You explained from the beginning how you and Camilla went to look for a rare herb in the cave and how you got attacked by the spirits, resulting in you freezing and somehow surviving until something broke you out. You even told him your theory of how you could have survived. 

"If my memory serves me correctly, I believe those spirits you described were Frost wraiths, spirits of the dead that had died under freezing conditions yet couldn't move on due to their hate," Melui explained. "They trap those who end up lost in their territory in ice and feed from the warmth of their souls until there's nothing left," he added.

"Sounds accurate, but I don't feel any different in my soul. How come they haven't eaten mine?" you asked while buttering your bread. "Your curse could be the reason. The beast is supposed to be affiliated with winter, right? So, perhaps it made your soul too cold for them to eat," Melui suggested.

"Maybe... but that doesn't explain the warm sensation I felt before I broke through the ice," you said. 

"Perhaps that necklace of yours could be the reason. Is that a dwarven rune you're wearing?" Melui pointed at the silver amulet resting against your chest.

"Oh, this?" you took hold of the amulet. "It... was a gift from an old dwarf who lived in Himring. It has some runes carved into it and is warm to the touch," you explained as the metal amulet warmed your fingers.

"Interesting-- I heard some dwarven runes may hold some hidden spells. Maybe that rune helped you break out from that ice," Melui stated.

"I doubt that. If it really worked like that then maybe it would have broken me out years ago," You chuckled and looked at him seriously, nearly worried to ask what you were going to ask of him. 

"Melui. I heard some things about Doriath and my lover, Maglor. I told you about him in my letters," you started and Melui nodded silently.

"I heard... he had committed terrible things and I want to know if they are true," you explained. "Were you still in Doriath when the kin slaying happened?" you asked carefully. 

Melui was quiet before looking at you. "Unfortunately yes," he answered. You stared at him before continuing. "So... all things of him and his brothers committing it are true?" you asked. "I'm afraid so..." Melui murmured quietly.

"I did not see your lover when it happened, but I did see how his brothers and their people came and started killing the people of Menegroth," Melui started. "They mostly kept their attention on those who willingly fought back, but then they started killing those who tried to run away," he explained. "I saw how the blonde one of the Feanorians fought the young king Dior in a deadly combat. They ended up killing each other. His wife perished in the attack and from what I have heard they left their twin sons to die alone in the forest. It was middle of winter as well," he explained and you nearly teared up at the thought of two young kids alone in the cold.  

"It was horrible," Melui nearly sniffed in tears. "And just when I and Nelle became engaged," he revealed and you felt light-hearted for a moment. 

"Oh, congrats. Is Nelle still around?" you asked. "No..." Melui shook his head and your smile dropped. 

"She was killed by one of the Noldor when she tried to defend one of the injured. It was not in her nature to harm anyone, so she didn't even try to fight them yet they still killed her. A sword through the abdomen," he explained. Your heart ached painfully when you saw his rather empty expression.

"I'm so sorry, Melui," you uttered.

He shook his head. "Don't be. It's been years now. I had family members to care for so I learned to heal from the sorrow," he explained. "And if Eru and the Valars are kind to us then perhaps I will see her again in the Blessed realm once my time to sail there has come," he said and took a drink from his glass. 

"I know it is not my right to tell you what to do next, but I advise you not to go to see your lover. He not the same elf you loved sixty years ago," Melui stated.

"Where is he and his brothers now?" you questioned.

"Last time I heard, they relocated to Amon Ereb," Melui answered. "It is not too far from here, perhaps a day's travel if you go on a horse," he continued. "I do not know what would happen if you go to him. I'm afraid you might receive an unpleasant reaction," he looked at you seriously.

"I get it... I think… I will concern myself with getting the necessary ingredients for my proper medicine. I don't think this would be the best time to show myself either," you said. Melui looked at you sympathetically. 

"I'm sorry things are like this," Melui said. "It's okay... I didn't expect much good when I first walked out of that cave and saw the world it is now," you reassured.

"If it's any comfort. I am willing to help you find the ingredients for the medicine," Melui said.

"Really? That would help a lot," you smiled.

"Of course, you're my friend. Just tell me what you need and I see what I can do," he said. 

"Well, the list is a bit long. I think we can find most of the ingredients in the city, but the Moonflowers are the most important," you said.

"Moonflowers? I do not think we can find any of them here, but I heard they are quite common at the Mouth of Sirion," Melui answered. "It will be a long travel thought," he added.

"That's fine by me. I can make the travel if I get a horse and some supplies to get there," you said.

"You can borrow one of my family horses, but are you certain you are willing to go back there?" Melui asked.

You smiled at him. "I will be fine. I did survive sixty years in ice and the trip here," you remarked, causing Melui to chuckle.

"I nearly envy your determination. Alright— Moonflowers grow in the nearby forest in Sirion, but there is also the Havens of Sirion. It is a city made up of refugees from Gondolin and Doriath. I have been there once. If you can't find any Moonflowers in the forest, you can go there and ask the people. They are helpful for those in need," Melui explained. "Nice," you nodded.

“Now let us eat. It will be a long day tomorrow,” Melui said and you two finished dining before retreating to the beds. 

The bed felt comfortable beneath you. However, you were not able to find sleep due to your mind being filled with thoughts on everything you had heard. Morgoth had taken over the world, you have survived living sixty years in ice, and now, Maglor and his brothers had gone down the path to commit horrid war crimes. It was a lot to handle, and you were not certain what to make of it. 

You nearly wanted to believe it was just a really bad dream. 

You brushed those thoughts away and closed your eyes. There was no use thinking and feeling sad about it. You needed strength for tomorrow to find the Moonflowers for your medicine. Maglor and everything can wait for later, even though your heart aches over everything that has happened. 

The morning graced the city. You were grateful to hear normal sounds such as birds singing in the nearby trees and the sounds of vendors as they opened their shops for the day. You would listen to them over the sounds you had heard lurking in the dark outside the city. 

You were patiently waiting at Melui's doorway, dressed in proper clothes for traveling and carrying bags for food and necessary items to collect herbs. You felt nervous to go alone but were confident you would be fine after memorizing the map and paths fully and prepared to deal with any situation possible. Technically, this was your first time traveling without Camilla. She never really trusted you to go alone without getting into some sort of trouble, especially since the incidents where you got accidentally separated. In your defense, you were in a difficult spot during those times and didn’t have the medicine to stop the beast from taking control of your body. 

However, this time you were not at the risk of losing control, so there was a high chance for you to avoid any trouble you might encounter on your way.

Melui approached you with a saddled white horse. You stood up, ready to leave for your trip. 

"This is Seastar. She has mostly been used for pulling wagons and carriages, but she's used to traveling alone with a rider. She will get you where you need to be," Melui handed the reins to you. You petted the horse, who seemed accepting of your attention. "Thank you. I'll make sure I bring her back safely," you said and climbed on the horse. You carefully handled the reins and then looked down at Melui. 

"Be careful... something unexpected might happen and I do not want to see you hurt," Melui uttered with worry in his eyes. 

"I know... but I am certain I can handle it. And to be fair a lot of unexpected things happen when I'm around, so it wouldn't be the first time" you said, making him shake his head with a smile. 

"Go now while you still have sunlight," he said. 

"Yeah, I might end up spending the night somewhere, so don't panic if I don't return," you stated.  "Okay, see you later. Take care,"

"Take care," Melui replied as you clicked your heels and rode away, eventually leaving the city. 

You rode through the safe path out of the city, into the wide lands that had not yet been infected with Morgoth's influence. It felt nice feeling the clean air brush against your face as you continued galloping. You made sure to take breaks and check on the map while letting Seastar drink before continuing your journey toward your destination, the Havens of Sirion. 

The sun had begun to settle when you finally arrived in the forest. You could hear the ocean in the distance and the air was chilly. It's been a long time since you've seen the sea or visited any beaches. Once you find the Moonflowers, maybe you could check the city after all.

You jumped down from Seastar. The forest looked too thick for her to get through. Uttering words in elvish, you told her to stay put and walked toward the forest, letting the white mare eat grass while waiting. 

The forest was thick, full of moss, and moist ground. Most likely due to being near the great river and the sea. Crows and Owls were hooting in the trees as it became rather dark for you to see. You checked the caverns and rocks, but no luck so far until you reached the last cave and noticed something glowing inside. 

You jumped over the fallen logs and saw white flowers growing on the cavern wall, glowing brightly as the moon in the sky. A victorious grin dressed your face as you took out a small sickle to cut them out. Your luck was finally looking up. 

You cut down a few of the Moonflowers and even a few with a seedling so you can grow them yourself. There were quite a lot of them. The place must have been fertile with light and songs for them to grow so many. 

After picking enough, you strapped the sickle back on your bag and prepared to leave until a strong smell of smoke filled your nostrils. Confused, you sniffed the air and then looked up to the sky, finding rising smoke pillars coming from where the city of the refugees should be. A deep worry settled within you while you stared at the smoke in the sky. Was the city being attacked? 

The scent of blood suddenly invaded your nose. You shut your mouth as you nearly gagged from the intensity of the smell, which confirmed your suspicions. The city was being attacked and it was a total bloodbath. It explained why you didn't encounter any patrols on your way even though Melui said the people of the haven were very guarded. 

Your ears heard something and from the corner of your eye, you saw a small shadow coming at you with a knife. 

"Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!" You stopped the child just in time before they could stab you with the knife. The child backed away still holding the knife toward you with terror in his eyes. "Easy! easy—! I'm not here to hurt you!" You held your hands up while staring back at the little elven boy. Your eyes then noticed another child, hiding behind a rock in the cave, he looked exactly like the child in front of you, so they must be twins. 

Worry peaked within you as you stared at them. They had blood on their clothes and didn't look older than a 6-year-old. Your mind quickly pieced the pieces and you concluded the boys must have escaped from the city during the attack. 

"Hey, it's okay," you kneeled, trying to make yourself look less threatening to them. "(I am a friend. You're safe)" you spoke in elvish, hoping it would calm them down. The boy in front of you seemed to calm down, cautiously keeping his weapon close to him and staring at you wearily. 

"What are you two doing here? What has happened?" you softly asked as the other boy slowly emerged from his hiding place. 

"You... you are not one of the bad elves?" He asked. His voice nearly came out like a whisper. 

You looked at him confused. "No. I'm a human actually," you pulled back your hood, revealing your ears for them to see. They seemed to calm more. "My name is (Name). Who are these bad elves you are talking about?" you asked. 

The elf boy began to cry. "They came out of nowhere and began hurting people..." he sobbed. "We came here to hide to wait for Naneth, but..." he sniffed. "I think they have hurt Naneth too!" he said and his brother began to sob too. Your heart painfully ached for them and a sense of protectiveness overtook you. 

"Hey..." you caught the crying boy’s attention. 

"It's okay. What's your name?" you asked. "El...Elrond," he said and you then look at his brother. "And what's yours?" you asked. "Elros," he answered, rather angrily. 

"Okay, Elrond, Elros, do you possibly know why these bad elves decided to hurt your people and Naneth?" you asked, having a bad feeling over the situation. 

"Naneth… she said they came because they wanted the stone in her necklace," Elrond answered. "A stone? As in... a silmaril?" you questioned. Elrond nodded. "That's what Naneth and Ada called the stone," he answered. 

You felt frozen for a moment. So the bad elves were Maglor and his brothers? They had committed another kin slaying for the silmaril? 

"Fuck—" you silently uttered and then you all heard a loud snap in the forest. Elros and Elrond automatically panicked. "They're coming!" Elrond said fearfully. You carefully glanced over the rock and saw elves in familiar Noldor armor coming toward you. 

"Quickly! Come with me!" you looked toward the twins. 

The Noldor soldiers came to the gave and investigated it. You and the twins were hiding behind some bushes, you listened to them talk and felt sweat forming on your skin. They were looking for the twins. 

You glanced at the twins hiding by your side. Elros looked angry and ready to fight, while Elrond sobbed silently, terrified of the situation. You couldn't bring yourself to leave them at the mercy of the Noldor soldiers, not after hearing what they had done to the last pair of twins Melui mentioned.

Your eyes quickly scanned for a route back to your horse then you grabbed a small rock off the ground. The twins looked at you carefully as you quickly tossed the rock in the opposite direction. The sound of the rock hitting something caught the elves’ attention and they quickly left to investigate the sound, taking the bait. 

"Come on!" you whispered, leading the twins out while the elves were distracted. Elrond clung to your hand as the three of you finally reached the edge of the forest and your horse.

You quickly picked them up one by one upon Seastars. "Okay. We're gonna go see a friend of mine. You will be safe and we will see if we can help you get back to any relatives," you explained after picking Elros on the saddle. 

Elrond's eyes widened as he looked behind you. "(Name)! Look out!" he shrieked as you felt a blade suddenly rest beside your neck. "You will remain still if you want to live," a familiar voice said and you slowly raised your hand in surrender. You remained deadly still and cursed within your mind. Shit, you really have a talent for getting into trouble when you're on your own. 

And you could recognize that voice anywhere. It was none other than Maglor, except his voice sounded more tired and less gentle than before. You now feared his reaction more than anything. 

"Turn around," Maglor commanded. "Leave her alone!" Elros snapped at him. "Elros. It's okay," you softly said. You took a deep breath before slowly turning around, avoiding making any sudden movement that could make Maglor slice your thought. 

You locked your eyes with him. His eyes nearly looked lifeless, most likely from the fight in the city and years of bad things happening all over, but when he locked his eyes with you— they were filled with shock. His hold on the sword began to waver and he backed away from you. 

"(Name)...?" he uttered as he stared at you like you were a ghost. 

"Hello, Maglor," you started awkwardly. "Long time no see," you said, waiting for what would happen next. 

[mk-writes-stuff]

The Seven Station Chronicles

Belladonna is the heir to the Seventh Station, one of seven orbital space stations torn from their planet by a wormhole several generations ago and stranded in the dead of space. Six years ago, the ritual that would have allowed her to hoard magic like the other nobles mysteriously failed, leaving her as her parents’ greatest failure. All attempts to regain their favour have been for naught, and, while she still clings to her status as heir, her parents’ manipulations seem targeted at taking away every remaining ounce of control she has over her life and her station.

Cassie is a runaway clone from Sixth Station, escaping the cruel brutality and murderous magical farming of her genetic donor, Cassiopeia. After a tumultuous year on the Seventh Station, armed with nothing but her muscles, the titanium arm she built to replace her lost one, and her street smarts, the magic she gained in an accident during her escape is discovered. To her surprise, instead of being killed outright, she is brought to guard the heir to Seventh Station - with the understanding that the heir will kill her the moment she gets the opportunity.

Both Belladonna and Cassie have secrets to hide and haunting terrors, both past and present, that plague them. Both are desperate to take back the power over their lives that has been ripped away from them. And both are inclined to hate and fear the other. But their lives have been irreversibly tied together by the actions of the leaders of Seventh Station, and not only their lives, but the lives of every person on every station, might be dependent on them - if only they can figure out how to work together.

Welcome to the Seven Station Chronicles, an original space fantasy series I’m working on! This is primarily a political and interpersonal drama story set on a series of seven space stations lost to the void of space, full of fantastical politics and complicated relationships.

There are currently four books planned in the series, each with its own plot but recurring characters and long-term character arcs. Book 1 focuses on Belladonna and Cassie’s relationship, Belladonna’s attempts to get back power over her life and gain power over her station, and the oppression and struggles of clones. Book 2 is focused on First Station and the resource shortages of living in space for so long, along with the struggles and hardships of the First Station leader, Septimus. Book 3 tells the story of an evacuating ship of space elves encountering the station and struggling to integrate and adapt to the new situations, and the stations’ struggle to integrate with them. Book 4 focuses on the religious cult of the Fifth Station and its impacts on the surrounding stations and political impacts. Belladonna remains the protagonist for the entire series, although the group of major characters widens significantly.

The Seven Station Chronicles have themes of abuse and recovery, coming into one’s own, love and found family, oppression and freedom, and the importance of compassion and fighting for what’s right. Please note that the series features depictions of mental illnesses (including eating disorders and addiction), abuse of multiple kinds (including emotional, physical, and sexual), self-harm, cults and cult trauma, homophobia and transphobia, ableism (especially against neurodivergent people), and sexism (women discriminating against men in elvish culture). Please feel free to ask me if you would like more detail on any content warnings - all snippets or detailed descriptions will be tagged with appropriate content warnings and anything depicting explicit content will be tagged as 18+ content.

Feel free to ask me any questions about anything related to this series - I love talking about it, and my asks and DMs are open.

[deityoftherain]

accidental sleepover - Fwhornoth Empires Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Other

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 3,512

Summary: Xornoth and Fwhip met frequently during the events of all is fair in love and war, working tirelessly to stop the {revelers} and bring a sense of peace back to their respective empires. As a byproduct of working tirelessly, their meetings often ran late, leaving them sleep deprived, exhausted, loose-lipped, and maybe a tad flirty.

Click here to read the whole au, but feel free to read standalone

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @welcome-back-to-hoimycraf !!!!

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

Note: They are speaking elvish when the words are in {brackets} and common when they are not. Xornoth is an elf and Fwhip is an elfling (half elf, half human)

“It’s getting late,” Xornoth murmured, rubbing at his tired eyes. In his defense, it was the middle of the night. If he were to glance out the window, he would be met with nothing but dark skies and distant stars.

Xornoth was sitting at a meeting table within Grimland’s castle, elbows on the smooth surface and long purple hair falling into his face. His wings were spread out, laying limply on the armrests beside him because Grimland didn’t have many backless chairs. The Magenta bloodline had too much human in it to make wings not a significant genetic probability, meaning the Grimland castle didn’t tend to cater towards those with wings.

Normally, he wouldn’t allow himself to be so informal during a meeting with another empire, but he and Fwhip had literally been there all day, and he wished he was exaggerating that fact. They were trying to figure out their mutual problem plaguing Rivendell and Grimland, and it was taking far much more effort than it should. Why couldn’t the citizens causing problems protest peacefully instead of taking such a violent and destructive route?

“When has it being late ever stopped us?” Fwhip remarked, leaning back in his chair with two chair legs in the air and his notebook resting on his freckled face. Xornoth wasn’t sure how he could keep his neck bent back like that without it hurting, much less be comfortable. Part of Xornoth hoped that Fwhip would prop himself and the chair back too far, causing him to fall backwards. It would be funny, at the very least. Hilarious, even. Xornoth could use a good laugh.

Fwhip’s ginger hair was messy and unkempt, moreso now than before because his goggles had been discarded on the table’s surface. They often acted like a headband when he wasn’t using them in the forge, but he removed them over an hour ago because they were starting to irritate his head. He had been wearing them since he got dressed the morning before, after all.

Xornoth had expected Fwhip to remove his signature red scarf as well, assuming that would be even more irritating, but it stayed wrapped around his neck. It wasn’t as tightly bound as it usually was, though. One would only have to tug at the end with little force and it would pull off of him. With the scarf as it was, Xornoth could count freckles usually hidden, and he did in hopes of keeping his mind awake. 

“Unfortunately true,” Xornoth sighed, stretching out his arms and wings at the same time. A few joints in his shoulders popped and the muscles around his wing roots ached something fierce. Xornoth winced from the cracking, muttering elven curses underneath his breath. He needed to see a healer or something again to see if they could ease the pain. All of this excess flying back and forth that he’d been engaging in lately was causing far too many problems. “I should head back though. I can only look at your face so much before I start going insane.”

“Xornoth.” Fwhip sat up to stare at him, deadpan as the notebook fell to his lap and the chair dropped so all four legs were on the ground. They’ve ditched formal titles long ago, not bothering calling each other “King” or “Count”. “Are you really thinking of flying back to Rivendell in the middle of the night? I can guarantee that most people are asleep right now!” Xornoth simply sucked in his lips and scrunched his nose, nonverbally communicating to Fwhip that that was exactly what his plan was. Fwhip pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated groan. “Xornoth, I know how long it takes to fly to your castle— it’s a long ass time, I’ve done it myself too many times to count— and you don’t even have one of my speedy rocket fueled elytras to help speed it up! Plus, your back is clearly bothering you— you’re not subtle— and it’s way too dark to see.”

Xornoth flattened his mouth into a thin line, summoning some fire onto his fingertips for a moment before extinguishing the flames. “What do you suppose I do then? It’s far too late to bother your servants to prepare a room, if they really are asleep as you say everyone is...” “You’ll stay in my room, duh,” Fwhip rolled his eyes, talking as if it's the most obvious thing ever. “My bed is huge! I am Count, after all. And, if cuddling with the homies is too gay for you, I can go spend the night in Gem’s room. I’m sure she won’t mind; we’ve done it before.” Xornoth eyed the elfling suspiciously. “Why would you give up your room for me? Or be willing to sleep beside me?” “You elves are too skeptical,” Fwhip started to speak. “You’re half elf,” Xornoth interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Po-tay-toe, po-tot-toe,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Look, Xornoth, I know we’ve had some arguments and some little tiffs in the past, but I don't hate you. I never have and, frankly, you annoy me a lot less than some of the other emperors. I’d much rather share a bed with you  than, say, Sausage. That guy has some problems, let me tell you, and he’s pretty handsy when he’s sleep deprived.” Ignoring the bit about the ruler of Mythland, that was high praise coming from Fwhip, especially from Fwhip to Xornoth. Rivendell and Grimland, in general, had never been too close to each other despite being next door neighbors in terms of empire location. That relationship only soured after an incident between their respective siblings, Scott and Gem, but that was over eight years ago. 

“‘Sides, you are queerplatonic partners with Pearl,” Fwhip shrugged, continuing his sleep deprived ramble, “and she’s more or less like a— I wouldn’t say sister for we’re not that close— but she’s like a cousin to me. Eh, maybe not a cousin either, but you know what I mean. We’re close. If she likes you that much, there must be something there. Plus, I’ve spent far too much time looking at your face to not start to like what I see. If I didn’t, I may have gone fuckin’ insane. And, and we can just be in a mutual agreement that we don’t talk about this after tomorrow morning. Simple as that.”

Xornoth ran his tongue against the back of his teeth, keeping himself collected despite the fact Fwhip had basically said he found him attractive, that knowledge doing Aeor knows what to him. While he may be aromantic, that didn’t mean he didn’t experience other forms of attraction. He would be lying if he claimed he hadn’t felt something towards Fwhip as well, but he had simply pushed those thoughts away. Xornoth never thought it may be reciprocated, and he was with Pearl, though they both have discussed the topic of potential polyamory in the past…

Still, Xornoth didn’t acknowledge it, tucking that information away to not be addressed later. Instead, he let a teasing smirk grow on his face as he raised an eyebrow. “Are you claiming you aren’t already ‘fuckin’ insane’?” Fwhip snorted at his comment and flipped him off, causing Xornoth to snicker in response. Fwhip’s face contorted as he tried to muffle a yawn. “Ugh, I’m beat. You can sleep here or sleep with me, but I’m going to get ready for bed. Make your choice; I’m not going to waste my time trying to convince you anymore.” Xornoth had spent plenty of nights fast asleep, slumped forward onto his desk, and it wasn’t something he wanted to willingly repeat. His back hated whenever he did that, making sure to express its discontent with sharp pains and stiff muscles the next day.

That being said, he made his choice and followed Fwhip toward the royal wing. The aesthetics of the halls were similar to the rest of the castle, dimly lit, with lots of sculptures, and red and black theming. There were plenty of redstone elements scattered around as well, but Xornoth wasn’t sure if they had always been there or if they were something Fwhip had added sometime during his rule. He didn’t ask.

Moving only made Xornoth more aware of his sore limbs, exhaustion pulling at him with every step. Xornoth tried to pretend it wasn’t hurting him, but he must not have been doing a very good enough job at it. Maybe it was because of that, or maybe it was because he’d spent enough time around the other emperor that Fwhip was starting to pick up on his mannerisms. Either way, Xornoth recognized that Fwhip noticed he was struggling, but that knowledge stayed unspoken between them… at least for now.

“I don’t think I have any clothes that can fit you,” Fwhip commented as they entered the room. “I could maybe find some pants, but I don’t have anything that would accommodate your wings.”

“I’ll just take off a few layers and sleep in what I have.” Rivendell was in a much colder place than Grimland, so Rivendellians tended to wear a lot more layers no matter what time of year it was.

Fwhip nodded in acknowledgement before grabbing some garments to change into and going behind the privacy screen. Since Xornoth wasn’t fully stripping, he stayed where he was to “change”, putting all the extra clothing and jewelry in a neat pile. Luckily, his base trousers were made from fine wool, making them not the worst thing to sleep in, and his base shirt was a backless halter top, giving his wings plenty of space to move around

“Uh, Xornoth?” Fwhip had been part way into changing when he spoke up, clearly hesitant.

“Yes?” Xornoth paused what he was doing. He had sat down on one side of his bed, idly straightening out some of his feathers.

“You know I… bind, right?” Xornoth hated the way Fwhip’s voice went small. “To make my… pecs… flatter?”

“So does Pearl, occasionally.” Xornoth knew first hand that gender was a strange concept. Personally, he didn’t really understand having a strong association to a gender as a gender apathetic agender person, but he knew many other people had such a thing. While strange, it was also, at its core principles, a simple concept. Fwhip said he was a boy and introduced himself as a boy, so he was a boy. It was as easy as that! It didn’t matter whatever he chose to do to present how he wanted to. “I’m not going to judge, nor do I care what’s under your shirt, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not sure why you care about my opinion, though.”

Fwhip scoffed, though Xornoth didn’t detect any scorn with it. “Well, I’m not binding to bed, not wanting to fuck up my ribs and all that, so if I catch you staring, we’re going to have to have a chat.” “If I stare, it’ll be respectfully,” Xornoth decided to tease, feeling comfortable enough (and maybe a tad delirious) to jest with Fwhip. He seemed open to it based on his comment and tone, at the very least. Plus, teasing each other on and off was part of what their working relationship was built on.

Thankfully, Fwhip was receptive to it, proven by a loud, sputtering yet amused laugh. Xornoth grinned at that, pleased that he managed to put Fwhip’s concerns to rest. Shy and hesitant weren’t good looks on such a typically confident and unapologetically brash man. “Can I come out?” “Is you being queer not already common knowledge?” Xornoth asked rhetorically before he fully thought it through. 

“Coming out” was a term used for when people became public with whatever terms they used, though it was more often used when it came to gender than sexuality. There was no “default sexuality”, but some areas subscribed heavily to gender roles, making the term needed in order to describe an experience many face. Xornoth understood it only partly because, being gender apathetic but agender, he tended to use masculine terms for himself simply because it was easier than “correcting” everyone.

“I’m flipping you off from behind the privacy divider,” Fwhip informed him with a cackle. “I just wanted to know if you were dressed, dumbass. I don’t know about you, but I would like to get to my bed.”

“Yeah, I only took off a few layers. You can come out,” Xornoth couldn’t resist continuing the bit. He knew his public image could be intimidating and put together, and he very much was like that at times, but, when in the company of those he was comfortable around, he liked being more… silly? Who knows, it was probably all those years he spent around Pearl rubbing off on him.

“You’re impossible.” Xornoth could almost hear Fwhip’s eye roll as he walked around the privacy wall and into view.

Neither of them spoke as they took in each other’s appearance, both in a state of dress (or, perhaps, undress?) they weren’t used to seeing the other in. Fwhip’s heterochromatic eyes wandered from Xornoth’s exposed collarbone all the way down his bare arms to his hands. Xornoth found himself enjoying the attention.

Fwhip, for better or for worse, was wearing an oversized baggy shirt, but he was wearing shorts. Xornoth didn’t think he’s ever seen Fwhip in shorts, even during the summer months. Was it just something he did to sleep? Either way, Xornoth was pleased to notice that he also had freckles sprinkled on his toned legs. Speaking of his legs, Xornoth had never realized just how much strength Fwhip carried in them. He knew that Fwhip’s arms got worked out a lot while he messed around in the royal forge, but his legs must have received similar treatment over the years.

Fwhip cleared his throat and they both tore their gazes away from one another, neither acknowledging that they had been checking the other emperor out. It’s not like they did anything wrong! Xornoth has admired plenty of people’s beauty before. It was only natural, especially since elves were known to be inhumanly beautiful. 

At least they were according to some ancient human folklore from sometime long before the empires were as they were today. Based on experience, Xornoth would like to confirm, but he’s also spotted plenty of beautiful fae, humans, and oceanfolk in the past. There were also gnomes, but they were far too short for him so he barely glanced in their direction unless it was for something political or business related.

“Before we go to bed, I have some muscle soreness cream if you want me to rub that in,” Fwhip offered, as he opened a drawer and pulled out a small tin. “Gem concocted it for me to help when I overdo it in the forge. It works really well and it is fast acting, lasting for about twelve hours before the effects start to wear off.” “Uh,” Xornoth hesitated dumbly, not used to people other than Scott and Pearl touching his back, especially not so close to his wing roots. He fluffed out his wings subconsciously before biting down hard on his tongue as a wave of agony shot throughout his back and wings in all directions. It’ll be fine. It wasn’t like Fwhip was going to preen his wings! “If you want to, sure.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing, {wings,}” Fwhip tutted, sharply outlining a circle in the air as a direction. “Now turn around.” “{Wings?}” Xornoth repeated the nickname, highly amused. Still, he obeyed, turning his exposed back to Fwhip. From there, he slipped into using elven instead of common, like they had been using the entire time before. “{Did you really use ‘wings’ as a nickname?}”

“{Yeah, so?}” Fwhip, stubborn as always, stuck by the choice of name usage he made with his sleepy brain. He removed the top to the tin and scooped some of the ointment onto his fingers. “{What, would you prefer ‘back muscles'? Or ‘angel’?}”

“{‘Angel’? Ha, alright! I didn’t think you thought that high of me, rose boy.}” Xornoth took the opportunity to throw in his own nickname for Fwhip since the opportunity presented itself to him. They were terms they would likely only use in private to avoid the other emperors’ unnecessary comments and input, but Xornoth quite liked the idea of Fwhip calling him “{wings}” or “{angel}”, more than he probably should.

“{My view of you is actually on the floor, if you couldn’t tell by how I’m letting you share my bed tonight,}” Fwhip quipped back sarcastically as he lathered the ointment generously around the wing roots. Xornoth could feel with great sensitivity whenever Fwhip used broad movements and when he ran his fingers against the natural curves of his defined back muscles from a near lifetime of flying. “{‘Fallen Angel’ would probably be more accurate, but I can’t be bothered. It’s too long.}”

“{Mhm, okay, sure, rose boy. Whatever makes you sleep better at night,}” Xornoth dismissed with a “I know the truth” inflection to his voice. If Fwhip’s hands weren’t currently occupied, Xornoth would expect him to flip him off again.

They didn’t speak beyond that, falling into a peaceful silence as Fwhip rubbed the ointment into his back. Xornoth could feel it working its magic, literally, and it helped him relax, so much so that he struggled to stay upright. His eyes fluttered close, focusing on nothing but the pleasant sensations of Fwhip’s touch and the ointment’s effects. Eventually, Fwhip pulled his hands away, followed by the soft sound of the lid being snapped to its tin. Xornoth couldn’t help but be a little disappointed at that.

“We should sleep,” Fwhip murmured, his exhaustion seeping through his partly slurred words. “My headache is only gettin’ worse.”

“M’kay,” Xornoth murmured back, already half asleep. He staggered to his feet so he could actually get under the blankets instead of simply sitting on top of them. He climbed into bed, facing toward Fwhip so his wings could stretch out off the bed. Xornoth didn’t want to accidentally smack Fwhip with his wings in his sleep. “G’night, Fwhip.”

Fwhip didn’t answer at first, and Xornoth didn’t open his eyes to see if Fwhip was still awake. Instead, he let himself start drifting off, and that was when he heard an airy reply, so low that Xornoth wasn’t sure if Fwhip thought he would hear it, “{Goodnight, angel.}”

No more words were exchanged between them that night, both emperors falling fast asleep. Now, if they stayed on their own sides of the large bed or not is for anyone to speculate. If they happened to become tangled up with each other, unconsciously cuddling each other in their sleep, that was for them to know and to not acknowledge the next day…

[tanoraqui]

Trick or Treat! Something Silmarillion?

In the early Third Age when Turgon has returned to life and he and Elenwë and Finrod & Amarië are finally fulfilling their long-held plan of having children at the same time, that they might grow up close as siblings like Finrod and Turgon had, Idril and Tuor say, "Hey, we could also do that! We always meant to have more than one child, and there's nothing actually stopping us!"

So they do. Now, there actually is something stopping them a little - the bearing of Elvish or half-Elvish children is more...metaphysically participatory? than that of Men (or Dwarves, etc). For both parents. Tuor had done it once and been fine, but that was in his native land, and even with Ulmo's guardianship and life on Tol Eressëa, which was fairly mild in terms of blessing-intensity, at roughly 3,500 years of age, his fëa is now worn a little thin.

But their daughter is born hearty and whole, and if Tuor is abed for a few weeks with weariness, well, he's back on his feet soon, and Idril is more than strong enough to bear a single mother's spiritual burden now that the babe is born. Indeed, she insists. Unequivocally.

Moriwen ("dark-crowned maiden") is named for her grandmother Rian and the dark brown hair she inherited from her (to no small amusement to many, given that her parents were both very blond). Her hair never quite achieves the natural luster of Elvish locks - instead, it easily gets tangled, bedraggled, and encrusted with sea-salt like her father's.

She grows up on Tol Eressëa at a nearly Elvish pace, because that feels most natural to her, and chooses to live and die (or not) as an Elf. All her friends and family are Elves (or as close as one semi-retired prophet of the sea can be) so why should she wish to be otherwise?

(The Choice is natural to all first-generation half-bloods, though after that, majority-genetics determines it unequivocally, and mortality wins in a coincidentally 50/50 balance...unless complicated by Maiaran blood, see: the heirs of Lúthien. That extends the Choice for a couple more generations, though mortality is still a heavy draw. Usually. Several Valar very quietly wish those guys would stop reproducing because tbh it's freaking them out.)

But the Mannish half of her heritage did enrapture her as well, and even more eagerly than Tuor, she sought tales of mortal Arda from every newcomer to the immortal shores. What were her distant cousins up to now? How was their mastery of metallurgy going? Were Elrond's youngest (her great-niece!) walking yet? Was that cathedral in Osgiliath still under construction?

She started recording accounts, new and old, and copying any books people brought with them when they Sailed. She blinked and she'd founded a library, soon the greatest in Aman for records of mortal lands. She was called Moriwen Peradan ("half-Man"), and for at least half of the Third Age had a thriving covert correspondence with Elrond via specially bred seabirds. (If you combine the migratory endurance of the arctic tern with the seagull's ability to get everywhere, and you're very patient, long-lived, determined, and by a precise intersection of Ainu blood and favor have a particular knack with seabirds, you can create an all-new species that can travel back and forth along the Straight Road, and discreetly share them with family!)

Moriwen ends up marrying Maeglin about a century after his re-embodiment, after he awkwardly shyly sidles into the Great Library of Tol Eressëa to find out (without, god forbid, talking to anyone involved) what happened to Idril's descendants after they survived, y'know, Stuff; and some rom-com mistaken identity shenanigans ensue.

[oflorien]

IF THEY HAD A KID... accepting adar & celebrían @uruuk

NAME: ITHILBOR;  moon  fist GENDER:  cis  male GENERAL   APPEARANCE:   still  favouring  the  more  fair  aspects  of  his  father's  uruk  qualities  and  meshed  with  his  mother's  grace.  his  hair  is  dark,  shaved  down  the  sides  and  often  worn  plaited  and  decorated  with  carved  warg  fangs  made  into  beads.  his  eyes  are  of  his  father's  hue,  if  only  a  shade  darker.  his  flesh  is  pale,  grey  as  moonlight  and  dull  in  glow  but  no  less  fair  than  any  elven  lord.  high  cheekbones,  a  smile  that  spells  a  sharpness  and  quality  of  bloodlust;  quiet  danger  that  boils  to  the  surface.  ithilbor  is  towering  in  height,  lithe  but  solid  in  frame.  his  body  beneath  his  armour  is  tattooed  to  somewhat  resemble  some  of  his  fathers  scars.  his  canines  are  slightly  sharper  than  that  of  elves.  PERSONALITY:  despite  what  one  might  gather,  he  is  a  warm  being.  clever  and  well-read,  a  deep  sense  of  belonging,  and  confidence  (  to  the  point  of  arrogance  )  because  he  knows  the  depth  of  unconditional  love.  he  is  protective  of  his  massive  family,  including  hundreds  of  brothers  and  sisters  by  proxy  of  his  father.  He  is  soft-spoken  off  the  battlefield,  joyful,  mischievous  and  observant.  but  he  has  a  volatile  capacity  for  terror,  especially  in  the  name  of  protecting  those  he  loves.  SPECIAL   TALENTS:   his  voice  in  song  is  haunting,  deep  and  as  though  manifested  from  shadow  itself  but  no  less  effective  in  its  craft.  as  is  the  nature  of  his  origins,  he  is  a  warrior  and  one  seemingly  without  fear.  a  dangerous  combination  when  rendered  with  his  genetics,  he  operates  as  though  a  berserker  was  bestowed  with  elven  grace  of  movement.  he  is  brutal  and  efficient,  often  laughing  when  faced  with  death.  WHO   THEY   LIKE   BETTER:  he  loves  both  his  parents,  perhaps  in  different  ways  if  anything.  he  places  his  mother  on  a  pedestal,  ensuring  she  is  safe.  he  is  also  connected  to  his  twin  sister  by  way  of  their  fëa.  they  simply  understand  each  other  through  mere  existence.  WHO   THEY   TAKE   AFTER   MORE:  his  father,  wholly  but  much  more  than  that,  he  has  the  added  battle  savvy  of  his  maternal  grandfather.  you'll  find  his  mother  in  his  more  playful  and  mischievous  qualities.  PERSONAL   HEADCANON:   his  weapons  are  of  elvish  make,  enchanted  in  primitive  quenya  runes  by  his  sister.  FACE   CLAIM:   alex  høgh

NAME: ANCALIMË;  brightest,  luminous  GENDER:  cis  female GENERAL   APPEARANCE:   she  favours  her  mother  in  many  regards,  appearing  more  delicate  in  grace  and  features.  like  her  mother,  her  hair  wears  as  a  silver  crown,  cascading  down  her  back  and  often  adorned  in  floral  chains  or  brambles  she  makes  with  some  of  her  younger  siblings.  her  eyes  are  pure  gold,  the  hue  rich  and  dark  and  haunting.  her  skin  has  her  mothers  glow  of  starlight,  luminous  if  not  a  little  less  so.  as  though  she  can  see  into  your  very  soul,  as  though  she  could  kill  a  man  with  just  a  stare.  she  is  tall,  statuesque  and  carries  herself  with  a  very  brutal  sort  of  grace.  like  her  brother,  her  canines  are  slightly  sharper  than  that  of  elves.  PERSONALITY:  she  is  the  more  stoic  twin.  sage  and  touched  by  the  veil  within,  she  is  observant,  calculated,  highly  intelligent  and  quick-witted,  but  with  that  comes  a  stubbornness  rooted  so  deep  that  no  weapon  or  tool  could  wrench  it  from  her  fëa.  she  is  warm  with  family,  open  and  fiercely  protective.  she  is  wild  of  spirit  and  her  heart  moves  her  to  wander,  to  explore  the  nature  around  her.  fair,  generous  and  empathetic,  she  puts  so  much  into  the  care  of  others  she  holds  dear.  her  anger  is  slow  but  considerably  more  dangerous  than  her  brothers.  there  is  nothing  that  will  stop  her  ire  from  destroying  those  who  would  see  harm  to  her  kin.  SPECIAL   TALENTS:   like  her  mother,  she  has  a  strong  connection  to  the  veil.  to  darkness  and  the  dead.  she  has  seen  ghosts  since  she  was  a  child,  it  is  a  profound  connection  she  does  not  hinder.  much  of  that  energy  is  poured  into  healing,  herbalism  and  magic.  she  has  learned  how  to  enchant  objects  and  manipulate  the  veil  in  forms  of  magic.  she  is  also  an  adept  warrior,  cunning  and  quick  and  no  less  brutal.  WHO   THEY   LIKE   BETTER:  she  is  devoted  to  her  entire  family  equally  but  has  a  very  devout  and  strong  connection  with  her  father.  as  though  they  can  simply  exist  in  the  same  room  and  never  say  a  word  but  still  understand  one  another.  WHO   THEY   TAKE   AFTER   MORE:  she  is  stoic  as  her  father,  patient  and  observant.  she  shares  the  same  physical  qualities  as  her  twin  brother  but  on  first  glance,  she  has  her  mothers  aura  about  her, her  empathy  and  advancement  of  skill.  PERSONAL   HEADCANON:   she  has  loved  and  cared  for  several  packs  of  wargs  since  she  was  a  child.  pups  tend  to  follow  her  around,  they  listen  to  her  commands  over  many  others. FACE   CLAIM:   frida  gustavvson

[archive-of-artprompts]

🌌To Infinity! Send in a number + character to have them drawn/written with that space trope!🌌

(Tropes from tv tropes 📺)

Accidental Astronaut - A character either accidentally launches the spacecraft they are in or they became an unwilling "astronaut" by stowing away on the spacecraft.

Artificial Gravity - Spaceships and space stations with artificial gravity systems.

Asteroid Thicket - An area in space with a lot of dangerous asteroids.

Batman Can Breathe in Space - Characters who can breathe in space.

Born Under the Sail - A whole culture of sailors/skyship drivers/spaceship drivers.

Burial in Space - Someone dies in space and has a funeral ritual.

Came from the Sky - Something huge falls out of the sky and lands on Earth.

Colony Ship - A spaceship with a whole colony on it.

Cool Starship - A cool, unusual spaceship.

Cosmic Motifs - Space used as a motif.

Cult Colony - A religious cult living in a colony in space.

Cyborg Helmsman - Cybernetically-augmented spaceship pilots.

Escape Pod - Like a lifeboat but for a spaceship.

Fishbowl Helmet - The usual accompaniment to a Latex Space Suit.

FTL Travel Sickness - Traveling faster than light can do bad things to people who aren't properly protected.

Flying Saucer - A spaceship shaped like a saucer.

Galactic Conqueror - A villain who wants to conquer or destroy the whole universe.

Genetic Adaptation - Outsiders adapt to a hostile environment (such as that on other planets) by genetically modifying themselves.

Interplanetary Voyage- A story that focuses on the difficulties of a space voyage.

Latex Space Suit - A very tight spacesuit.

Life in Zero G - Lifeforms that have evolved to live in the gravityless void.

Lost Colony - A human colony in space that's lost contact with Earth.

Space Amish - Space travelers who use more primitive technology.

Space Battle - Fighting in space.

Space Cadet Academy - Where you learn to be a space cadet.

Space Clothes - People wear wacky clothes in space.

Space Clouds - Nebulae that seem like clouds.

Space Elves - Elvish, smug, possibly superior aliens.

Space Isolation Horror - Horror derived from the emptiness and loneliness of space.

Space Madness - Being in space makes you insane.

Space Marine - Troops in spaceships that are sort of like marines.

Space Mask - Face or head protection that's somehow a substitute for a full space suit.

Space Master - Characters who have the ability to control the fabric of space and spatial dimensions.

Space Pirates- Pirates in space.

Space Romans - An alien culture that resembles a historical Earth culture.

Space Whale - Creatures in space that resemble whales.

Transhumans in Space - Humans in space who have been augmented.

Wizards from Outer Space - Fantasy stuff happens in space.

Zero-G Spot - Sex in space.

Zodiac Motifs - Constellations that are used as a motif.

[katjapetersart]

Worldbuiltober day 21: Diverse.

A representation of The Many in its diversity.

Elves call themselves "The Many" in Elvish. They are a very diverse species, with several ethnicies and depending on who you ask, a subspecies too! High elves, tall and slender. Wood elves, curly-eared and rectangular. Cavelves, small, stout with their whiskers, fur and big ears. Their mixtures: plains elf, tundra elf, deep elf... and that's just describing a part of their genetic heritage.

Sun elf, high elf, tundra elf, coastelf, plains elf, northern woodself, southern woodself, Mixed- even drow. The Many has various names for its cultural groups.

Cavelves have historically never belonged to the Many. In recent times, with a clearer seperation between the species group cavelf and the cultural group drow, they have become more accepted. Even now, the politically correct term for cavelves is "The Few". Most other terms for them in Elvish are (originally) derogatory.

Left to right. Not including cultural groups- many of these people would not call themself the names given here.

Back row:

Plains elf tossing their child. A fey-blooded elf with a head covering and glasses. A chubby plains elf. A wood-elf with low ear curling expression. A high elf with bodymodded ears. A wood elf with a head covering. A very thin tundra elf. A high elf with cropped ears.

Middle:

A wood elf with dreadlocks.

Front row:

A cavelf with a sun hat. Wheelchair using high elf with glasses. A plains elf child with their dog. An elderly plains elf. A baby high elf. A teenage cavelf wearing furs. A power wheelchair using high elf. A fat high elf. A cavelf wearing a sun hat. A cavelf with dwarfism.

[sorcerous-caress]

Hi hello I'm back and non-anon (bc I'm not scared anymore lmao), I sent in the star elf/eldarin ask!!

First off, for your influence on my DM work, I table for a party of really really new players, so a lot of them are just starting out as humans for now. To kinda get them further into the realm of exploring different worlds, I built an elf NPC somewhat inspired by your modern AU (but a little bit turned down on the sexual stuff bc I need them to not get distracted lmao), and a lot of your more general posts led me to want to explore the specific customs and practices of different elven groups, which led me down a rabbithole and now I'm trying to piece together dnd lore from the very beginning, like the genetic origins of the current species and stuff. It's been a super fun inquiry, and I have you to thank for inspiring me!!

As for your response to my ask...

DAMN. the Echoes of the Fey concept was SUPER COOL and now I really wanna look into that too bc it could work for some insane roleplay and some neat scenarios. I just love the idea of nonverbal and magical communication bc it has so much potential, and it's even better if it doesn't follow the mechanics of speech and is more based around general emotions or a different quantifying system. It's so fun to explore!!

Also oh my godddd, HUMANS AND HUMAN WORLDS AS A BREATH OF FRESH AIR. My ask was all over the place but you fully caught on to exactly what I was talking about!!! Even beyond the sexual side, there's something so intimate and beautiful about removing your "higher" level methods of communication for a raw, gritty ability to just feel. The idea of essentially letting down all of those magical concepts that are inherently emotional and having to go it alone and figure it all out physically is just so, UGH. There's something there but I don't have the words to explain it (but you did, and I'm so glad you get where I'm coming from)

But yeah there's so much to explore there and I love it so much

Love ya 💜💜

I love ya too!! 🩷🩷

Also omfg using the human infatuated modern elf as a guide for your new players is a genius move.

Like this one loser high elf with a respectful facade who is just so obsessed over humans that the second they see a gaggle of new human adventure waddling around like ducks, looking at everything with shiny eyes, the elf takes an emergency holiday from their high paying job and goes to the humans.

Imagine all the pep talk they'd give themselves.

"Okay okay we got this!! We got this! We practised this before in the mirror.

All you have to do is walk up to them and introduce yourself yes yes, mention that you're a high elf and throw some elvish words around, humans love these right?

Do NOT mention the porn and do NOT ask to touch their ears no matter how adorable and tempting they look to squeeze-well maybe...if the human is willing and it's not weird right? They'd allow me to touch their ears if I asked nicely so maybe-

NO-NO NO NO. no touching ears, stay focused for Corellon's sake! It is my job to guide humans after all, yes? All those stories you read of elves guiding humanity weren't just fantasy, if the elves don't look after the humans then who will? The dwarves? HA, as if."

Then they walk up to them, pretending to be all graceful and noble like.

"Ehem! Aethen, uh, humans, right? Isee that your kind is still as lost as ever. Maethe you are in need of a guide, yes? "

They'd also be a bit protective of them, especially around other elves who call humans biir aka garbage. Having an entire argument with the other person in elvish and insulting their entire lineage before turning to the humans like nothing happened and asking if they'd like to go to a tavern? The elf's treat.

Also this elf's whole education about humans came from the Internet and half of it is misinformation. Somehow they know the most niche of medical facts about humans yet lack knowledge about the most basic things.

This is just me talking about my modern human kink high elf. Your npc was just inspired by them so I'm not expecting them to act the same or have the same concept, still this was a fun idea!

And Aaaa thank you so much <3333 you're so kind. This praise is going straight to my heart and making it bigger. Feel free to drop by anytime and share any of your human kink idea or even knowledge about elves!

Rn I'm reading about the human age boom in the forgotten realms, it is kinda interesting to think about a time where humans were far and between before literally ruling over the earth in the span of thousands of years.

[squeaky-dndruid]

Intro post!!

Hi there, this is @postalignments, making a new blog for my OC, Squeaky! I figured that most people are on that blog for, well, the alignments, and I want to have the freedom of interacting with other gimmicks without it taking up more room on my blog than my actual gimmick does. So, side blog it is!

OC info: - Call me Squeaky ofc :) - She/they - High elf - Has wings despite it not being in her genetics - 82 years old! (D&D elves reach maturity at 100, so I AM A MINOR and that would be around the equivalent of 15/16 for humans) - Druid - Level 4 - Circle of the Land (Forest) - True neutral - I will not be using spell slots or choosing specific spells I can do because fuck that, only limit I'll be putting on spells my character can cast are that I'll only cast druid spells at my level and below

OOC info: - Also a minor - Human ofc - She/her - Pfp from Picrew :)

More nerdy game mechanics stuff (because it's fun) under the cut

Stats: STR - 12 WIS - 17 CHA - 13 INT - 15 DEX - 16 CON - 16 Languages: Common, Elvish, Celestial Skill proficiencies since I will not bother with the other proficiencies: Perception, nature, arcana Backgrounds are somewhat confusing so I will not be adding one of those lol

[himynameis4]

Adult Byler Teacher Headcanons

They both teach at the same school, maybe even same district.

Will teaches art, namely Drawing & Painting I & II, as well as AP Art & Honors Drawing for Production & Design. (He also was dragged into making props for the school musical, and started/runs the school’s GSA. Mans is SWAMPED)

Mike teaches AP Language & Comp, Creative Writing, Honors English 9, and English 11. He also runs the school’s Literary Magazine, Newspaper, and Yearbook clubs. (Mans is similarly swamped)

(They’re both considering starting up an AV club & a D&D club, but where they’ll find the money or the time, they got no clue)

Will was the reason Mike first explored teaching. Mike had taken his dad’s advice & become a business major, because it can be applied to lots of jobs & is a good way to get a job quick, but… yeah, he fucking hated it.

He ended up taking one of the education courses Will was taking, trying to fulfill some credits & figuring having a class with Will would make it bearable… and then he fell headfirst into teaching

They were hired at the same time. They student taught together, too. A wave of retirees meant most of their colleagues were new blood, like them, and… well, there was A Lot of relationship drama among the staff. It was like a freakin’ soap opera. (Did my high school have a lot of interpersonal staff relationship drama? Yes, why do you ask?)

Will & Mike came out when they got married, because Will wanted to change his last name. By this point, Will was already running the school’s GSA. They hadn’t been very public about their relationship, having been there for The Sanders Affair Of 2006 (and the subsequent divorces, marriages, and affairs that came from said affair) & making the mutual decision to keep their personal lives private… but as their district became less conservative, they hadn’t exactly hidden it, either.

Their friends on the staff all know, & some are close enough friends to get invites

Will had gone by “Mr. William” for the vast majority of his career, so it wasn’t a huge shift for his students or anything.

Mike’s nickname is just “Wheeler,” a similar sign of affection—at least, to his face.

(His students call him “Hot Wheels” behind his back)

(Will is well aware of this, & endlessly amused)

Will’s hair has gone entirely grey. (Lonnie’s genetics, rip). Post-covid, he uses blue light glasses… unlike mike, who needs glasses full-time. (Will teases him about this quite frequently)

Mike finishes growing his hair out, but ditched the bangs. He’s one of those teachers who always has his hair in a severe ponytail (he likes manbuns, too, but you wont often see him with one bc We’re At Work, Will, I Must Be Professional)

They Do Not Talk About The Mullet Era

Or The Bowl Cut For The Entirety Of The Childhoods

They have matching rings, customized replicas of the One Ring bc they’re both geeks. They’re engraved to say “crazy together” in elvish. Technically these were their engagement rings… and also the rings they used when they got a domestic partnership, and also the rings they used in their wedding ceremony. For a long time, they wore them like necklaces tucked under their shirts (bc the Mike in the Math department & Sydney from Social Studies are MASSIVE gossips, and also bc LoTR is iconic & these two are cheesey af),

They started wearing them openly when Will changed his last name, though.

Will & Mike are the teachers who let students eat lunch in their classrooms. The ones who invite them in during free periods. The ones who hear about the shitty chem teacher, the asshole ex, the awful divorce, the toxic friend group, the impending move. They’re the ones who collect & display dozens of senior photos, whose hands cramp from writing yearbook messages, and the ones whose students will remember years later. They’re the ones who keep in touch—they get wedding invites and scattered letters and life updates.

Because they’re the ones who remember what it’s like to be 14, 15, and feeling like the world was about to end. They remember the bullies. They remember the isolation. They remember how awful it feels to grow apart from the people you used to hold dear, and how much they hated high school.

It’s why they love being teachers, exhausting as it is. They’re the adults they didn’t get in high school, despite their parents’ best efforts—they get to be the support they desperately needed. They get to watch their kids grow, and its so, so satisfying to know they’re giving the kids better than what they had.

But most importantly? They’re happy.