#humans and elves

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Can humans connect to all arcanum’s while elves can connect to only one?

There does seem to be something more flexible about humans when it comes to things like magic and destiny - and maybe those things are intertwined too - but it's hard to say for sure when we've got a sample size of 1.

Maybe it matters that Callum had to actively choose his arcanum, as opposed to being born with one. Maybe an elf who loses their arcanum can learn to connect to it by choice? And then to other arcanums too? There could be something in the agency of the choice that enables versatility in the person's spirit.

Or maybe it's more about Callum studying magic that makes multiple arcanums possible for him. One of the ToX pregen characters, Pyrda, is a mage who's studying all kinds of primal magic, just like Callum is doing.

Or maybe it's a bit of both. Pyrda is a Skywing mage, and she only has the one arcanum despite all her study. No reason you couldn't rp her connecting to a second one, though.

From a show perspective, I think there's something special about humans, though. We have plenty of hints that they might be able to do some cool things that elves and dragons can't. Connecting to multiple arcanums could definitely be one of those special things. We'll have to wait and see!

[doktor-peet]

Humans have been bred to fight wars for their elven overlords, but the increased intelligence as well as free will, were things they didn't factor in, and after centuries of fighting in proxy wars for their egos, we rebelled and are now ourselves on the brink of repeating this ancient mistake.

humans are a subspecies of elf known for dying really quickly and being stressed the whole time

[transmairon]

Every time I see Elder Scrolls elves with human looking eyes and facial features, I take 100 points of psychic damage.

People who cannot handle their big beautiful tilted eyes and brows, non-white sclera, protruding browbones, narrow faces, and sharp chins do not deserve them. They are not supposed to look like generic fantasy elves, and that is what makes them so great. They are supposed to look alien.

[specshroom]

I imagine elves would think that humans are pretty masculine no matter their gender like the way we think elves look feminine and dainty no matter their gender.

So imagine an elf guy who assumes that humans like to be told how big and strong they are just cus they're usually more muscular than elves. He ends up flirting with a pretty feminine looking woman the same way you would a masculine man like,

"Oh wow~ Your so stroong~ "

He touches her arm, which is not at all muscular by human standards,

"Do you work out?"

And the woman's just like “...😐 Are u making fun of me?“

And the poor elf guy is trying to figure out where he went wrong 😭😭 He just thought all humans liked being complemented on their comparatively more masculine body types.😭

[crustaceousfaggot]

Shout out to Cishet White Teenager Christopher Paolini for realizing that if you give people infinite time, a completely non-judgemental society, and the power to change their bodies any way they want, lots of people are gonna start doing Freaky Anthro Transgenderism on themselves.

Like yeah, if I had the option I'd probably turn myself into a bizzare eldritch creature too

[devotion-disorder]

me when beautiful elf men want to gaslight gatekeep and girlboss me: 🚶🏾🧎🏾🐕

be careful what you wish for...the village Killian's from is having a bit of a population crisis right now, and having a nice little human come by could be just what they need...

[attractthecrows]

let it also be said that I love the Mahariel + Lavellan worldstate. It's so haunted. You are Dalish, you are not a part of human culture, but by happenstance you're dragged into it and to the forefront of hell to save a world that hates and fears your people. You have no choice. You can never return to your home, to the familiar, to anything you've ever known. You will be an echo; Mahariel echoing Garahel, Lavellan echoing Mahariel. You're so proud of your Dalish heritage, but your identity doesn't matter at all. Doomed to be a martyr for a people that do not respect you and cannot understand you, while your clan mourns, lamenting that they cannot bury you, no life-tree to stand as your memory. You're a hero. You're already dead. You died the moment you left your clan.

[pinacoladamatata]

blink and you'll miss it moments around skyhold....

[n0tamused]

heard u were desperate for elf asks and me, the local elf fucker, has decided to grace your life pookie😚

elves who have still yet to start their courting with their human s/o, finding pieces of themselves in their work room or finding their human passed out over a table. huffing about human fragility under their breaths, walking over to drag them back to their bed for a proper rest, freezes before their ears turn a cute pink because their sweet mortal was musing about them. whether it be poetry draft, painting, art, sculpture in process, embroidery — anything. and elves adore art, so this is like skipping straight to “will you marry me?” before starting their dating

A/n: thank you for stopping by once again Nobu! Please stop more often hdhfhhs <3 I do hope you like this pookie. I planned to put even more characters into this, but that would have been too much for one post, so I'll separate it into another post tehee

Content: Thranduil, Glorfindel, Maedhros x GN!Reader, fluff hcs, a tinge of angst in Maedhros' part (ofc)..

𓄃Thranduil

-The vast forests of Mirkwood held much beauty, and even more when one looked closer into them. The trees were one of a kind, holding memories of old and having seen rises and falls of  both elf and man. Yet they all remained steadfast, roots holding them upright. In the same manner, Thranduil held himself

-It was an image not many could ever hope to replicate, and a trait many aspired to have, like big fancy shoes one hopes to grow into

-And perhaps you have spent too long in the Woodland realm, you’ve learned a lot, but a lot more was waiting to be learned as well. It came to a boiling point where you were growing fussy with yourself for not having a pipe through which to blow your steam out through. There was so much beauty and lore, yet you couldn’t find a way to capture it all. And seeing all of this, your tense display, Thradnuil had gifted you paints and canvases and brushes, and a whole new room so well illuminated that you could even paint in it during the night, given you had a good candle with you. 

-It came as a relief, having your own space, yet you felt indebted to him as much as you felt flattered that the elven-king cared so much about your comfort. When he had approached you with the request to court you, he almost seemed aloof, despite his request holding many thoughtful words and his gifts showing even more care. But that could be just the little voice of the devil that came with courting one of the most important figures in Middle-Earth. You didn’t express this much to Thranduil, for he really did his best at meeting you halfway with the courting traditions of men and elves.

-In turn you decided to paint him. Or, at least, try to do so. It would be worth it. So you set out on this quest and holed yourself in the painting room, having selected a medium sized canvas and the best colors you could ever hope to pair up with one another. The initial layout looked good, with Tranduil standing in the woods, surrounded by greens, oranges and reds, wearing an outfit he recently wore when he took you out on a walk through the forest. There is also a large elk approaching him in the painting, but you saved the animal to be painted last. You had covered most of the canvas, nearly finished with the backdrop of multiple tree trunks and you were working your way to the foreground when your vision began to droop and blur.

-Raising your head you saw that it was well past sunset and you could no longer see the color on your canvas as well, your candle was flickering out.

-But your chambers seemed a world away, you could not bother to try your legs to walk the distance. And the next best thing was the bench in the room, usually reserved for any guests you may have hosted, but tonight it would be your bed. You moved the plush pillows and the blanket around until you were comfortable, and you finally shut your eyes for the last time that night.

-Thranduil had wandered in some time later, finding it rather odd that he hadn't seen you for the entire day, and the guards he asked about your whereabouts had little answers as well. But his instincts told him you’d be here.

-He went in with his lamp, alone venturing into your space and  seeing the canvas first. For half a heartbeat he half-expected to find you behind it, painting in the dark - humans had weird ways of doing things, he realized

-But once he went around it, he only saw an empty chair and unwashed brushes, crusted with paint. And the unfinished painting..

-His breath stopped in his throat, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer, shining the light of the lamp onto the canvas. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him, surely it wasn’t his likeness he was seeing in the sketch lying underneath the drying paint? But the worse option was to believe that it was another elf wearing his attire

-A soft hum snapped his focus away, and he turned to see you shifting in your sleep. It was then when he felt his ears begin to burn, his lips pushing into a thin line as he attempted to ease his heart from beating so terribly fast, too hard, he felt it beating against the bones of his ribcage

-He coughed into the palm of his hand then took a deep breath, approaching you after what felt like an eternity of waiting. It was in your shared interest that you sleep somewhere comfortable.. 

-Despite his racing thoughts, he did make it a point to talk to you in the morning about your courtship, perhaps this was your way to signal him that you were ready for the next stage..? 

☀︎Glorfindel

-There are not many things that can catch Glorfindel by surprise; he is a seasoned individual, both in the art of combat and in more mundane things. He has seen much, and more. His mind is not so closed off to the change in the world, and while he is used to planning things, strategizing, his mind does prefer to take life one day at a time. Let life be the present moment until tomorrow arrives.

-You came into his life rather unexpectedly, but he welcomed you all the same. What feelings began to brew he had hoped to keep secret for a while longer, but once he realized that things were not going to change and that his feelings were only growing, taking into account your mortality, he had approached you and asked to court you

-He delivered the speech elegantly, armed with his usual carefree and easy going demeanor, but once his breath fell short towards the end you could tell that this meant a lot to him. And stepping into this more intimate relationship with him felt much easier than expected, but now you just had much more affection from him, and you had the privilege of seeing him more as well

-It was only natural that your own nature led to you wanting, even needing, to preserve him in some form of a craft. To flatter him the same way he did you, or to simply have something to remind you of him when he wasn’t with you

-Poems you tried, but no word seemed sufficient enough to capture Glorfindel’s character. Art you tried too, but you proved not skilled enough to satisfy yourself with those results. So you turned to something else - embroidery. It wasn’t easy, but the process was more satisfying and the image that was slowly coming into reality made you much more happier than the other attempts at making something in the image of Glorfindel

-It was a bit of a challenge to discard the failed attempts from him, but embroidery was easier to deal with before the bigger image was beginning to materialize. ‘It’s only a little something I’m making…for decor!’ or ‘I wish to give my mother something as a gift’ and so on. Glorfindel did not distrust you on that. It made sense, and why would you hide anything from him, anyway?

-Perhaps you overestimated yourself with your human strength, staying night after night doing work or finishing the embroidery or being unable to sleep. But exhaustion finally caught up to you one evening as you were sitting by the hearth. The warmth of the fire was licking up your arms and the side of your face, tempting you to close your eyes, lulling you to sleep. And before you knew it, your heavy eyelids giving way to darkness to overtake you

-Glorfindel found you in your chair, chin on your chest and arms stretched down to your lap, fingers still touching the wooden hoop keeping the canvas in place. The needle was slipping from your fingers, hanging on by a thread. 

-Glorfindel shook his head and approached slowly, being light on his feet as he took the needle from your limb fingers. The thread pulled at the canvas as he picked it up, and it was then when he saw the picture you were making. His brows furrowed in focus and he felt more alert than a moment prior. He pried the wooden embroidery hoop from your hand and picked it up to take a closer look. Now that he thought of it, he hasn’t seen the progress made on this in a long while. 

-It was a field of golden flowers, carefully crafted with yellow thread and in the middle was a finished white horse, and a person - well most of them. They were unfinished and only the shoulders-down of the body was visible, but Glorfindel recognized the clothes as his own, and he could recognize Asfaloth in any format.

-He wasn’t caught by surprise often, he held and open and calm mind, but even if he had expected this, even if he did hope for this, it made his heart feel like bursting 

-He had to hold himself back from bowing down beside you, taking your sleepy face in his hands only to wake you up with a dozen of kisses

-Glorfindel really did his best to not cause a scene in that moment, and after a moment of simply admiring the artwork and tracing the pads of his fingers over the thread on canvas, his smile only growing, he had to remind himself that you were still asleep in a chair. And your back wouldn’t be thanking you in the morning for that

-After setting aside your embroidery, he gently picked you up and carried you to bed, smiling all the way and feeling how his chest swam with joy and a feeling he could only describe as a well-stuffed feather bed

-He laid you down, bringing the covers over you and for a moment longer he just admired you, having so much to tell you, but he settled with a kiss to your cheek for now, making a note to himself to make a better gift for you, and to ask for your hand soon.

⚔︎Maedhros

-There was little place for a human in Maedhros’ life, even as wars came and went and brought before him countless faces only for him to see them fall before him in the days following. He has seen much, too much, but there was only one path in his life, and it lay ahead of him.  Yet, even his path wasn’t made wholly of only the things he knew. There were things changing, with him and around him

-It was strange to have someone with him. Ever since you came into his life Maedhros had slowly begun to adjust the ways when it came to interacting with you, and what  chats you two had always managed to take his mind off of the constant battles and the Oath. It took a longer time for him to realize it and come to terms with his feelings, but once he did he plucked up whatever strength and elegance he could summon. He remembered the person he was before coming here, before everything, and he did his best to emulate that stability and a bit more cheerful demeanor. How much that works.. well you can imagine. But that does not mean he was bad at it, just not as good as enthusiastic as he imagined he’d be </3 He does think about it later and does wonder if you would have preferred if he asked in some other fashion

-Maedhros visits you when he can, although the truly private times between the two of you are far and few between with such a big host of people following him and waiting on his orders. He does treasure any moment he has with you. He hold your hand and kisses the inside of your wrists before he has to depart, kisses your forehead when he comes to see you and sits right besides you for as long as he is with you

-His heart had grown much more fond of you, it feels alive and the scars he bears nearly feel non-existent when he’s around you

-And little by little, you manage to get the old Maedhros from underneath the rubble. He had  taken habit to calling you ‘his light’ in elvish, among some other endearments

-It was a late night when he came to visit you, and he did expect he might not find you awake at the hour but he tried his luck regardless as he went into your chambers. Despite your earlier claims that ‘he doesn’t need to knock’ he knocked anyway, only opening the door when he got no response.

-And there you were. Sitting at your little table (although everything average to us is little to Maedhros-) with your head on your arms. A quil rested between your fingers, and a blotch of ink was left both on paper and the wooden surface. As much as it was endearing at first, Maedhros couldn’t help but worry. He hurried in, carefully closing the doors and peering at your face before he agreed with that little voice in his head - you were fine, just asleep.

-His large palm tenderly caressed your upper back, coaxing your sleepy self to move just enough until the point he could pick you up without jostling you around too much. Your bed was just beside the table, so after he had settled you in, he smiled at the  thought of your stubbornness to leave your work corner. He knew you could be stubborn beyond measure, especially about things that you held dear to heart

-Not wanting to depart yet, he went back to your table to see what he could do with the spilled ink and scattered papers

-He found a towel nearby and used it to suck up the wet ink - the dry splotches were beyond his skill. It was quiet work, but he found his mind wandering, one might even call it relaxing. 

-He was picking up papers absentmindedly, not wishing to overstep your own trust by peering into whatever it is you scribbled down

-And he held onto that thought until he glimpsed something he couldn’t ignore. Since when did you know elvish?

-It suddenly came into view, the papers he held in hand were all letters in elvish, although each stroke revealed you were a novice in the language, but he also saw effort and thoughtfulness. The first page began with ‘Dear Maedhros’ and then the rest continued on into a poem. Maedhros thought he was dreaming, and had to glimpse outside the window to remind himself where he was 

-He read through and found himself falling apart from within. Each line, each word, addressed to him held so much love and care, it meant more than any song some bard could sing of his valor in battle. And it was written by you - and you’ve seen how ugly he could be, yet you wrote how you loved him all.

-He was probably as red as his hair, but his lips also twisted downwards in this pout-like expression keeping tears at bay. His heart felt full, too full for him to manage. Maedhros doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this. And with his curiosity sparked, he peered into the crumbled letters scattered around, finding even more verses that were unfinished. On the corner of the table was a thick book, almost crumbling to ashes from how old it looked, but he recognized it as the first book holding the alphabet of men and elves, translations and grammatical rules to follow

-Maedhros sat down, not trusting his legs to keep him upright anymore, holding the letters to his chest.

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Animorphs #11: The Forgotten thoughts (pt. 2):

This book has so many classic horror elements. The death premonitions and the sense of foreboding, but also the inability to tell anyone about the fear because you're not sure how real it is. Feels almost like a Final Destination or Haunting of Hill House type of story.

Another detail I love: Ax's takeoff in the Bug fighter knocks over all of his friends, and he apologizes for having forgotten to account for human balance in the acceleration. It suggests that he really is right about humans being wobblier than most other species, and that Bug fighters don't have seatbelts because humans are the only possible operators who could be injured by turbulence.

[Jake's orders put Tobias in danger] Tobias: You're the boss! Here I come! (p. 56) [Jake's orders put Ax in danger] Tobias: Jake, there's no time!... They're after him! You happy now, Jake!? (p. 89)

"A moment of pity... This hork-bajir warrior didn't ask to be here, bleeding from a dozen wounds in an alien jungle a billion miles from his home. But then, I didn't ask to be here, either." (p. 93) That's it, that's the series!

Also on the list of humans-as-space-elves details: Ax apparently assumes that humans will be frightened by the sight of a monkey. Does he think he acquired a tiny mutant human and that he's about to induce Uncanny Valley willies in his friends?

Animorphs books can be read here | Book Club schedule is here

[wheeloffortune-design]

if fantasy dwarves are supposed to live underground they should be able to see in the dark, like cats, and they should have eyes that do the thing

and the other thing

[crazysodomite]

killing my elf

[whereserpentswalk]

Humans sometimes wonder what separates them from other races like elves and dwarves and orcs, like what makes them unique. Some people say humans are generalists, some people say we're the most adaptable. But actually there is something that stands out about us that all the other races find super weird. Humans are the only sentient creature to reproduce sexually like animals do, and because of that we're the only species with romantic or sexual attraction, and ideas like sex and gender.

Elves and dwarves create new members of their races slowly and methodically, like works of art. Harpies, angels, demons and dragons are all individually and personally created by their gods. Orcs and goblins are spawned from spawning pits on mass. Merfolk come close with how they lay and fertilize eggs, but even then any individual merfolk can both lay eggs and fertilize, and they don't meet when they do it. Vampires and other undead are spawned from other races. Fae just sort of show up.

So the idea of having sexes, and genders constructed around them, and sexual and romantic relationships is all incredibly weird for other races. Most humans don't notice it because they just naturally assign members of other races genders when they meet them.

Diffrent races have diffrent ideas around these constructs. But most of them find it some level of confusing. A lot of them just ignore it. But it's really disturbing for some, romantic relationships seem like weird bonds that can't be explained, like some sort of unexplainable and volatile connection. Sexual attraction seems like some dark animalistic instinct. Gender is incomprehensible, and also seems wrong and immoral to most races. And sex itself seem like the darkest of any reproductive ritual or magic. Because of all of this humans who don't experience some or any of these things often have an easier time connecting with other races.

This has also lead scholars to belive that humans are the only sentient race to evolve naturally. Something often thought impossible before studies on humans occurred.

[zevampirex]

Animal of the rings 💍

[thesummerestsolstice]

Only the elves really see Elrond as "half-elven." They focus, of course, on who he is in relation to them. He's sort-of an elf– enough that they can accept him into their society, but not enough to erase his differences. They understand the different parts of him– his propensity to get sick, his elvish-sharp hearing, his need for sleep, his immortality– as "elvish" or "not-elvish." And while they can be rather condescending about anything they see as "not-elvish," they aren't usually very curious.

Most men regard Elrond vaguely as a fae being. This isn't unique to him– much of Middle-Earth's changling and fairy stories were built on the strange human-and-not-human nature of half-elves. Of course, different humans regard them very differently– sometimes with respect, even reverence, believing that "fairies" are beings of great wisdom and knowledge. Others see them with suspicion and fear, viewing them as sources of danger and deception.

To the Numenorians, Elrond is just one of them– a kind of "immortal man." He is like them in several key ways– he gets ill, he needs sleep, he regards the passage of time in a very "human" way. More importantly, he is their kin, a living remnant and reminder of both their mythical founder and non-human blood they share. He acts as a healer and counselor when they need him. This is all well and good until some of them start thinking that if Elrond could make the choice to be immortal, surely they should be able to as well.

The dwarves see Elrond as an elf. They absolutely do not care enough to tell the difference between him and the others. He's immortal, he's always with a bunch of elves. He's an elf.

The Maiar do not really understand what Elrond is, and have kind of defaulting to seeing him as one of them but like, small. Look, they're all uncounted thousands of years old, he's a child to them. They dote on him and think he's adorable, but sometimes forget that he's also part-elf and part-human, and can't just drop his physical form whenever he likes to go be a disembodied spirit in the clouds. Gandalf encourages all their antics. Elrond is working on it.

(Contrary to popular belief, the average hobbit does not have any kind of opinion on Elrond Peredhel. Bilbo Baggins, who lives in his house and has written several long, extremely personal ballads about his family history, is a statistical outlier and should not have been counted.)

[tikvin]

Locked in and made my own elf species

I call them Eltaan, at least for now, I will do some revisions and changes most likely, cuz they were made quite hastily, but I like how they turned out, so I might as well show em