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Elves: Philosophy and Religion

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest. etc]

Physiology and quirks | Names & Clans and Houses || Pan-Cultural things: Social life | Time and 'Growing Up an Elf' | Homes | Language | Art | Entertainment | Technology || Elven 'Subraces' still a wip || Philosophy and Religion & Pantheons || Half-elves | [WIP]

• Overview: the variety found in elven religion/s. • Key spiritual philosophies that define elvendom: the Road of Life, Elamshin, and Laraelever • Creation Myths • Reincarnation and dying/Transcendence • Funerals • Holidays • Gods: a very brief overview of the very lengthy amount of nonsense about the four pantheons involved with elves which will be covered seperately (the Seldarine, the Dark Seldarine, the Seelie Court and the Asathalfinare)

Elven religion on Toril is diverse. The different subraces of elves have their own traditions and understanding of the Seldarine, the Seelie Court and the adjacent outer circle of sylvan gods, and the Dark Seldarine, and within those larger umbrellas different individual cultures may also vary.

While the elven faiths are split into the pantheons of the Seldarine and the ‘Dark Seldarine’ after the exile of Lolth, Eilistraee and Vhaeraun, dark elves and surface elves are not restricted to one pantheon vs the other. With two exceptions - Shevarash and Fenmarel - the Seldarine answers the prayers of drow worshippers and accepts them as priests (even if their mortal cousins do not), and gods of the Dark Seldarine do accept and sometimes reach out to elves who are amenable to their nature (even if most drow would call this heresy).

While it’s claimed that the drow are exiled from Arvandor, there are a few things that suggest things are more flexible than that. Firstly there's the individual drow who worship the Seldarine and Eilistraeeans who go to Arvandor after death (Eilistraee having a realm on Arvandor for this putpose), and secondly that surface elves can, through their own actions, fall out of grace and fall under Lolth’s sway without realising it. It’s also been put forth that this applies to the reincarnation cycle, as an elf’s spirit may shift between Corellon and Lolth’s sphere of influence by their actions: a drow may go to Arvandor and be reincarnated outside of Lolth's clutes, an evil surface elf who defies the Seldarine may be born again in Lolth's web.

Lolth hungers to be worshipped on the surface and often walks the streets of human cities (likely in disguise). She particularly delights in corrupting more elves, whispering in the ears of the desperate, ambitious and those lost to pain and grief – some of whom deliberately seek her out despite the great taboo of doing so.

Vhaeraun seeks to do away with the divisions of the Crown War and reunite the Tel’Quessir under his worship, which includes stealing surface elves out from under his old pantheon where and when he can.

Eilistraee doesn’t deliberately seek surface elven worship, or any form of worship since she invests all her energy into pulling the drow out of Lolth's grip, but she welcomes all into her faith regardless of origin. Due to her welcoming nature and outcast status she also tends to be popular with half-elves who face prejudice or persecution, especially bards.

Ghaunadaur will happily accept worshippers and future sacrifices from anyone – he’s patron god of gelatinous cubes, he’s not picky.

Kiaransalee, goddess of undeath and vengeance, has attempted to demand fealty from surface elves in the past.

Selvetarm is indifferent to his worshippers, so probably neither objects to surface elven worship nor cares if they don't worship him.

--

Key Philosophies:

A larger bent of religious philosophy drawing strongly on Sehanine Moonbow’s dogma, and particularly strong on Evermeet, lends itself to the concept of enlightenment and unity with the gods:

The Road of Life is a philosophy that the long life of elves is a winding path of many stages, at the end of which, if walked correctly, the elf with understand the many mysteries of elven life and the world and be presented with a choice to either ascend permanently to Arvandor and join the Seldarine or to return to Toril and guide the People as a bodhisattva-esque figure, denying yourself eternal reward in order to shepherd others towards it. Thus far there is only one elf known to have achieved this stage, Queen Amlaruil of Evermeet, who chose the latter. She recently disappeared during the Spellplague era and nobody knows what’s up with that so far.

Each road walked is unique, with many branching paths that appear when a choice can be made (some of which loop back to an earlier part of the road which need to be walked again) and many different cultural and religious opinions exist on how the road is supposed to be walked; whether its something you build for yourself by experiencing it and the journey itself is the point, or if there's a true route hidden amongst all the twists and turns that one must find and walk to reach enlightenment.

What exactly is beyond Transcendence at the end of the Road isn't explained, which is presumably why you need to spend a lifetime getting enlightened to understand it.

But by and large elves live by a combination of individuality and community: 'We are on this shared path together, but at the same time all of us are finding our own way.' Everyone's road is unique to them, and The People must support each other as a whole in order to provide the structure for an individual to walk their path.

Throughout the journey the elf develops themselves, exploring the world and their identity and their faith. Introspection and reflection on the nature of reality and divinity (and the elven place around it) develops throughout one’s life.

The first stage applies to young elves, and focuses on individualism; Exploration, chasing impulses and curiosities and travelling as they find their footing, grow to understand the world they live in, the gods they come from, and establishing an identity.

The second is a maturation stage, where the elf settles and begins to look towards their community and the People as a whole. At this stage elves have had many decades to grow and experience things and get to know themselves and are ready to commit to some field of development, dedicating themselves to their art or career (this is the point where one joins the priesthood or military, becomes a politician, or devotes their lives to study or art, etc). Either their attention turns outwards as they begin to consider the world, the gods and The People and their spiritual growth extends around and amongst them - or their full attention is devoted to one specific interest, which will consume them obsessively for the rest of their lives as they explore every part of it (don't start an elf on their special interest unless you genuinely want to be there for days while they gush over the minutia in full detail).

At the penultimate stage, when an elf finally hits old age (700+), the road takes a turn for the mystical. A ring of light – Sehanine’s titular moonbow – appears around the irises of the elf, signalling to them and those around them that they will soon be recalled to Arvandor. Their reveries begin to fill with visions and communion with the goddess of death, a process known as Transcendence, preparing them for what’s to come and presenting them with experiences that are said to be indescribable to one who hasn’t experienced them. Gradually they begin to slip into visions even during their waking hours as they slip away from the physical world. This is the time when an elf looks back at the winding threads they wove of their life and are to use it to place together ‘an understanding of elven nature and its relation to the universe,’ as the Seldarine begin to recall them to Arvandor.

As an elf dies they enter communion with the Seldarine, their awareness spreading throughout the Weave and encompassing the spirits of all elves on Toril, then into the minds of the Elders; those elves who have passed into Arvandor before them. The dying elf becomes one in communion with the Seldarine, magic and the People. The wisest are said presented with the choice to join the Seldarine or to remain in the mortal realm as a guide.

Many elves simply walk away into the woods or mountains and are never heard from again; elves outside of Evermeet usually find themselves compelled to travel to the Isle.

Sometimes elves physically fade out of existence as they die, rather than leaving a body, and Eilistraeean drow are also described doing this (Eilistraee calls her followers to her much as Sehanine calls to surface elves, where she dances alongside them until both fade into the moonlight (the Last Dance)).

Sometimes the spirit simply departs the flesh and leaves an empty shell behind which will be disposed off according to their culture.

An elf who dies to disease or violence does not experience Transcendence, and there's a strong chance their soul will be destroyed by the act of dying. In cases where it doesn't the soul is trapped, and a priest of Sehanine is tasked with seeking them and undergoing the Transcendence on their behalf to guide them to Arvandor.

(‘Wait, what about the Fugue Plane?’ Yes. Welcome, or perhaps 'welcome back,' to the land of The Writers Never Agree on Jack Shit. According to some sources the Fugue only applies to humans (and even then, only Faerûnian humans), and according to others elves will be going to the Fugue to face Kelemvor's judgement too. Up to you.)

-

On the other hand there's Elamshin, the Will of Lolth (or simply 'Destiny'). All strive for Lolth's approval; those who have it continue to live and are granted power and wealth; those who lose it suffer and perish. Chaos incarnate, how one gains and maintains this favour is not clear and one must be sharp and attentive and always ready to adapt to survive. When one cannot adapt, one has stagnated and must give way to the new growth. By living in chaos one is an adaptable and stronger being, and by better serving Lolth such the Spider Queen and her followers will overthrow the false traitor gods and rule the world, as is their right.

The rest of the Dark Seldarine do not seem to have any overarching philosophy like Elamshin or the Road of Life - Eilistraee seeks to forge a new path; Vhaeraun's church is a resistance movement more than a faith; etc.

-

The People are innately and spiritually a part of the Weave of Magic that saturates all of Toril and the Natural Balance, the later of which they have a druid-like relationship with. As they are part of other elves and their gods, they are one and a whole with the tapestry of magic and nature. The health of these things is the health of the People.

‘The Home of the Heart,’ a rough translation of the word Laraelever, the forest ‘as it should be,’ when one is living in balance with the natural cycles of the world and not burning it down or harming it out of carelessness and greed. The term can also be applied to things that are in line with this harmony, such as elven furniture and architecture grown from living trees or grown into shape and then harvested at the end of its lifespan instead of killing the tree for its wood on ones own terms. The individual shouldn't come at the cost of, nor impose harmfully on the lives of others.

Lolthites, Selvetarmites, Kiaransaleen and Ghaunadaurans don’t give a flying fuck about this, notably. Not sure about Vhaeraunites, but since he's trying to get the drow back to their pre-Descent lives it's possible something along these lines is in there... then again he does have a holy day that's just him giving the middle finger to the value the Seldarine places on nature, so maybe not.

-

Creation myths:

The most common creation myth is of course the variant where Corellon was injured in combat with the orc god Gruumsh, and the droplets of his blood became the first elves (some also add that another god – usually Sehanine or Angharradh – wept at his injury, and the mingling of blood and tears gave rise to the elves).

Some claim that Corellon created these first elves in his image by using magic to weave them physical forms from sunbeams (gold elves), moonlight (moon), the forests (green), the clouds (avariel), the seas (aquatic), and shadows (dark elves).

‘Myths discussing the natural origins of the Fair Folk are closely tied to the ability of many members of the Seldarine to assume nonelven, natural forms far greater in size than is common for their avatars.’

Reincarnation:

While lore from both the original AD&D and 5e supports elven reincarnation, and a specific form of reincarnation exists in being reincarnated into a fey guardian to take on a life of duty to nature and elvendom, a reincarnation cycle is not a universal belief amongst the Tel’Quessir.

Some do not believe in it. Of those who do, it’s believed that an elf may reincarnate as animals, plants or fey and not just elves, and this is not necessarily viewed as a punishment or reward in the fashion of karmic-like consequences. Sometimes it's even a desired outcome. Corellon and Sehanine work together to guide elves towards perfection in the cycles of life and death, Corellon watching over them and protecting them in life and creation, before handing them to Sehanine’s care in death. As the deity of transcendence, she presents elves with guides and puzzles to solve – in life, and presumably in death - as they find their way towards their final stage.

Some believe that reincarnation is only a rare occurrence that only happens as a punishment, when an elf commits a great wrong and is sent back by the Seldarine to atone before they can enter Arvandor. Others say that it’s a sign that an elf has unfinished business – usually some duty to kin and clan – and they have returned in order to complete it.

An order of rangers in the service of Sehanine (the Sentinels of the Moonbow) serves as a sort of animal wellfare group, that protects animals under the reasoning that they may be 'the reincarnated spirits of elves of ages past and that may once again assume elven form.'

Undeath - mormhaor, 'corrupted death' - is a state despised by elven faith as a breakage in the natural cycles of the universe that damages or destroys the soul of the victim. They are trapped in an abominable state, torn away from the people and unable to achieve transcendence or walk the Road. Elves tend to handle undeath badly. The acceptible alternatives; baelnorn liches and Reverend Ones (elven wraiths) are the product of white necromancy, powered by positive energy and deliberately created with the aid of the Seldarine; to become such is to make a great sacrifice and a duty to the defence and preservation of one's people or clan, postponing one's own reward to care for others. It's not an enjoyable or desirable state and it's not one entered into lightly. While their sacrifice is respected, even these undead make living elves uncomfortable

The story of Corellon’s exiling of elven souls from Arvandor due to Lolth’s manipulations, which has been introduced in 5e, clashes with previously given Realmslore* (wherein elves had already settled the Prime Material Plane in mortal forms before Araushnee’s banishment, and Corellon takes a static gender for her, not mortal elves), so while the story may exist on Toril, it’s not the mainstream version most elves believe in.

(*It's been stated in canon that depictions of deities outside of realmslore do not affect the versions of them within it, nor vice versa. A deity’s realmspace aspect is something of an independent being.

‘Once [an immigrant] deity is accepted into the pantheons of Toril, there is no difference between [native Torilian and pan-DnD gods], since each immigrant deity has a local aspect, independent of other world-based aspects he or she might possess. For example, although Labelas Enoreth and Clangeddin Silverbeard battled each other during the Time of Troubles on the isle of Ruathym, any enmity stemming from that clash does not extend to other worlds. Likewise, Lolth in some other world differs from Lolth in Faerûn’ - Faiths and Pantheons )

Funerals:

“Behold, there in the West There I see my comrades and my lovers, my childhood friends, those who have gone before me and those still to come. There I see them in the tall oaks, high in the limbs where the golden sun lights their faces. “They are calling my name. They are calling my name. They are calling me West, and there I am going.” - The elven Prayer for the Dead

Funerary customs vary greatly not only by subrace and nation but by specific communities - and each funeral is greatly customised according to the nature of the deceased.

Sun elves build elaborate tombs that also double as troves of history and lore that descendants can access; green elves bury their dead beneath or within trees, as do most copper elves. Some cremate their dead. Some elven cultures see a body as nothing but a cast off husk of no value now that the spirit has departed. Moon elves, as ever, vary greatly. Evereskans and some moon elves go for tombs, in the rest of the world some families draw more from their sylvan ancestry and go in for tree burials, others might use the customs of human settlements, etc.

I can't find anything specific on dark elven customs. Eilistraeeans have them, I assume Vhaeraunites do too. Ghaunadaurans die via self-sacrifice and get eaten. I'm pretty sure Kiransaleen and Lolthites believe in recycling via necromancy (or occasionally cannibalism, in Lolth's case). Being used to build an animate ossuary for Kiaransalee's temple also looks to be on the table. With Lolth in particular it's going to depend on which Lolthite sect you're in.

Holidays:

Not counting the impromptu revels Hanali's priests throw, Lolth's regular sacrifices, the various holy rites observed in Sehanine's name (focused on lunar cycles and phenomenon, which can occur once per decade, century or millennium), and so forth.

Cinnelas'Cor: 'The Day of Corellon's Peace' (everybody except most drow) and The Melding of the Three (moon elves) Elven new year, except it's held once every 'four snows' or 'pyesigeni' in elven (also known as Aeloulaeva), which is four years to a human.

Massive archery competitions are sponsored by the church of Solonor Thelandira, and considering these are elves one imagines that there's an incredible amount of getting drunk, dancing, flirting, and acting like idiots involved.

For moon elves this is also the holiday where they celebrate the birth of Angharradh and the peace and safety she brings.

Lateu'quor: Communion of the Crescent Moon Occurring once a month during the crescent moon phase, a celebration of creativity where elves gather in nearby glades and offer up a work of art to Corellon (a song, dance, piece of music, poetry, fine art, textiles, weapons, whatever you make)... while also dancing and partying, because elves. The creations are placed on display or preserved by Corellon's priests at his shrines and temples. Exceptional masterpieces are taken to Arvandor to be enjoyed by the elven spirits currently there. Occasionally Corellon personally blesses the revel with a spontaneous magical effect, which may involve him gifting his own work of art to the mortal elves in return.

The Secrets of the Heart Revels in honour of Hanali Celanil, occurring once a month during the full moon. A 'rosy glow' manifests within participants, highlighting their 'inner beauty' that lasts for several days. Feelings of romantic love are magically enhanced in some fashion, allowing participants to evaluate their feelings and relationships. Much like Lateu'quor, offerings of artworks are made to be taken to Arvandor and admired there. Some are returned, and these are shared around to be enjoyed by everybody. It's considered a lucky day to elope, announce engagements, and to unveil new art to the public.

Lunar Hallowings Also held during nights of a clear full moon, participants enter reverie and either mediate alone or enter communion with loved ones to commune with Sehanine. Occasionally Sehanine temporarily enjoins the spirits of all elves into a 'true sharing of the minds.' Then, of course, comes the dancing and drinking that lasts until the first rays of dawn.

Followers of Lolth celebrate the full moon by holding a religious ceremony with the sacrificing of a surface elf as the central event as a deliberate insult to Sehanine.

Nights of the new moon (Vhaeraunites) For surface dwelling Vhaeraunites, the nights of the new moon are sacred, celebrated by stag hunts through dark woodlands ending in the sacrifice of its antlers and still beating heart to their god in a manner which deliberately perverts the hunting celebrations of the Seldarine.

The Budding A dance held during the spring equinox honouring Rillifane Rallathil; the natural cycles, the life given by the world around one, and the growth of new life is celebrated with the usual dancing and feasting. The weeks leading up to the celebration is marked by fasting, broken with the ritual hunt of a hart.

The Dance of Swirling Winds A dance festival held on the vernal and autumnal equinoxes, observing the changing of the seasons and venerating Aerdrie Faenya who for most elves is am agricultural deity. During the gathering there are always strong winds, and those who can't fly (via wings or magic) are granted magical flight by the goddess so that they may join the wind dance in the sky. At the end of the festivities the wind blows the participants over several miles of vistas showing natural beauty, before depositing them gently near their homes.

Midsummer Like the rest of Toril, Midsummer is a day dedicated to love. Feasting, music and dancing being the main attractions. Those with no romantic partner/s either seek them or, if they have no desire to, celebrate with friends. Partners usually wander away to find privacy towards the end of the day. Elves are usually joined in their celebrations by the local fey.

Midsummer is considered a particularly good day for marriages and betrothals.

The Transformation A holy day occurring during the autumn equinox, counterpart to the Budding. Elves seeking a major change - be this some form of spiritual rebirth, a clean break from something in their life, or anything else along those lines - gather to celebrate the promise of Rillifane and the autumn that life is an everchanging renewal: all things fade, new things grow, some old things regain their health or change.

The Graverending (Kiaransaleen) An annual rite held on midwinter eve, Kiaransalee's priestesses animate as many murder victims as they possibly can in the form of a goddess-blessed unique undead called Vengeance Hunters who will unceasingly hunt down their slayers over the course of the next 24 hour period, only stopping if destroyed or if the 24 hours ends. Once they've succeeded (or time is up) the revenants return to their graves. The vast majority of dark elves don't worship Kiaransalee, so for most drow this is just zombie assassin apocalypse day.

Midwinter: The Mystic Rites of the Luminous Cloud, also known as Ol Ahnvae Sehanine (Sehanine's Night) The elven equivalent to the Feast of the Moon, the midwinter holiday when Faerûn honours the dead. Elves assemble under the night sky and enter reverie, and are enveloped in shimmering moonlight that dissolves them and draws them into the sky. While communing, Sehanine guides the elves through visions meant to aid their spiritual development, revealing the mysteries of the Road of Life at levels appropriate to each participant's readiness. At the end of the rite the elves are returned to their physical forms in their original positions.

The Maked Lord's Embrace (Vhaeraunite) The most sacred of Vhaeraun's holy days, every follower spends 24 hours of introspection in full sensory deprivation (drow use their innate darkness and leviation spells to isolate themselves in spheres of pitch blackness, those who don't have those abilities are granted them by Vhaeraun for the day). They spend this period contemplating Vhaeraun's teachings and how they might advance the Masked Lord's cause over the coming year.

The Run (Eilistraeean) Held once a year, at an unspecified time (may be the worshipper's choice). Surface drow almost universally travel in disguise on the surface for their own safety, but on this day Eilistraeeans head into surface communities - especially amongst surface elves - and walk openly among them. Non-drow followers instead disguise themselves as drow. They are to offer charity: sharing game they've hunted with those who need it, playing music for the entertainment of the people, lending helping hands to others' tasks and so forth. During this time Eilistraeeans may not preach their faith nor attempt to gain any wealth or power for themselves - all acts must be pure charity.

The High Hunt (Eilistraeean) A night-time hunt held at the end of each season (presumably during or around Midsummer, Highharvestide, the Feast of the Moon, Midwinter and Greengrass). The priest-led hunting parties pursue a dangerous monster wielding only bladed weapons. Lay-worshippers may dress how they please, while priests forgo all forms of protection including any clothes.

The Gods:

Are getting a secondary post, because the number of them is insane. Elven religion as a whole involves four pantheons (the Seldarine (17 gods, or more, depending on who you talk to), the Seelie Court (7+), the Asathalfinare (7), and the 'Dark Seldarine' (6)), and different elven cultures have entirely different opinions on who is part of the elven pantheon and who isn't and how the pantheon works.

Suffice to say, surface elves typically worship the Seldarine, usually led by Corellon with some bickering about the fine details between cultures, and the Seelie Court - the fey gods, called 'archfey' in 4e and 5e, led by Titania. Green elven religion then goes on to incorporate a layer of animism.

Aquatic elves might pay some respect to the Seldarine as the gods of their ancestors, but primarily worship the Asathalfinare; a pantheon of deities worshipped by sea-dwelling beings led by the aquatic elven god Deep Sashelas.

The Dark Seldarine plays the role of the devil for surface elves, while for dark elves they are the only pantheon... and which member of the pantheon they worship is usually the only god in the pantheon that matters:

Dark elves vary greatly by which of the Dark Seldarine they worship. Lolth is predominant, but within her faith every drow settlement is going to differ on what Lolth's exact teachings are and how she's supposed to be worshipped, as deliberately engineered by the Spider Queen to keep chaos and conflict going.

Eilistraeeans are the least henotheistic, and the Seldarine is often worshipped alongside her. Surface elven worshippers of the Dark Maiden are uncommon and most are deeply sceptical of her and her followers, but they can be found living in some dark elven communities on the surface. While tensions between the dark elves and their cousins, and between Eilistraee and the Seldarine still exist, she does have one foot in Arvandor despite not technically being part of the Seldarine and speculation on whether she'll ever formally re-join them continues (although according to Word of God Eilistraee has no intention of joining any pantheon).

[vizishereig]

Chreon Week: Hair Washing (Day 3)

There’s a familiar numbness that makes it’s home in his bones as he opens the door to his apartment. He feels filthy, worn. His body is caked in soot, dried sweat, and blood.

His apartment isn’t empty, he realizes faintly, hearing heavy footsteps shuffling in the kitchen. He makes his way over there in a numb haze, blue eyes landing on Chris’s familiar figure. The taller male is leaning against one of the kitchen countertops, cradling a small mug of what Leon assumes to be coffee in his hands.

Brown eyes meet his gaze, scanning his body, eyes widening with what Leon thinks is concern at the blood on his body. Most of it isn’t his, except for the patch that’s caked into his hair. He had been slammed against a wall, hit his head. He’s probably concussed, but he’s fine.

He’s fine.

Chris obviously doesn’t think so, or finds something on his expression that indicates he isn’t, because he’s setting the mug down and stepping forward, enveloping him in a warm hug, and oh. That’s nice. Leon tenses at first, because of course he does, he can still see reaching, rotting hands reaching for him when he closes his eyes, but he relaxes quickly. Large hands rub circles on his back, making Leon melt a bit more, tucking his head against Chris’s shoulder.

“Bad mission?” Chris murmurs, voice soft from where his mouth is pressed against the crown on his head. Leon doesn’t answer, can’t really find the words to, so he just nods a little. Chris makes an understanding humming sound, soothing.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll feel a bit better then,” Chris says, pulling away just a little, trying to gauge Leon’s reaction. He just nods, letting Chris pull him towards the bathroom.

Actually getting into the tub is a bit of a blur But he’s there, warm water surrounding him. Chris had deemed a bath easier, and Leon agrees now that he’s in it, body feeling almost heavy with exhaustion.

Chris bathes him, which would be more embarrassing if he had the mind to feel more than the fuzzy numbness that plagues him. As it is, it takes a lot to focus on the warm water and warmer hands that scrub at his body.

His a bit more himself by the time Chris starts on his hair, wincing as warm water runs over the area that had been hurt. Chris mutters a soft sorry, taking more care around the area. It feels nice, though, short fingernails scratching at his scalp gently when the other male shampoos his hair. He sputters a bit when water falls in front of his face, huffing at Chris’s gentle laughter.

Eventually, they’re done, though, Leon stepping out of the tub and drying himself down with a towel. Chris had exited the room to grab Leon some clothes, so Leon bundles himself in the towel and enters their shared bedroom.

Once he’s dressed in a soft T-shirt and sweats, he’s settled on the bed. Chris fusses with the wound in his head a bit more, but there’s not much left to do and Leon feels exhaustion weighing him down even more. He doesn’t want to sleep, not yet, knowing nightmares will plague him tonight. Still, his eyes are fighting to stay open, and Chris notices as usual, the ever attentive bastard that he is.

So Leon is being gently tipped sideways, laying on the bed. Chris curls around him, arms coming to loop around his waist, but the hold is loose. Leon would be able to break out of it if he really wanted to. He didn’t.

“C’mon, go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Chris hums, Pressing a kiss in between Leon’s shoulder blades, and he relaxes a little, letting his eyes close.

“Thanks,” Leon replies sleepily, letting himself go. He barely registers the tightening of the arms around his waist before he falls asleep.

[hacked-by-jake]

Yo, so.. I don’t know what you are here for but I’m here to talk about theories, the story and everything else, even if we only have one episode yet. That’s why there’s this fandom. For talking about the game. For making theories. Crazy ones and logical ones. Everything.

Sorry.

[transingthoseformers]

The Bayverse Devastator having wrecking ball testicles was kinda funny but cringe at first. But thinking about it later? Imagine them slapping against another frame's aft as they get fucked, or Devastator dropping them on someone's faceplate for them to worship- dear primus I just really love balls.

Honest to god that might've been one of the funniest jokes in bayverse (to me)

But

We are totally down to talk about robot balls here on this blog if you'd like

Imagining the Combiners fucking is interesting considering how they're literally a combination of a bunch of little bots, and we know there's a mixing of the minds going on there— and now I'm thinking about how the other combiners must look in bayverse😅

But yes! May I suggest bayverse Devastator fucking Bruticus or Menasor? (Or if you want to get spicy one of the autobot combiners :) )

[greenapplebling]

Maleficia: Sometimes I wonder if you know I love you

Malleus:

Malleus: Can I be honest?

Maleficia: ... Yes

Malleus: You certainly make it hard to remember

[andy-clutterbuck]

9x02 | The Bridge

[teddybasmanov]

Mr ZSaku, what part of "April Fools" and "jokes" don't you understand? I know people who post this sort of meta-semi-forth-wall-break-brutally-honest-character-nonsense on Halloween and they're at least honest about it.

[notlivys]

i literally received a letter from my old self i sent LIKE 10 YEARS AGO ???? and apart from the emotional shock it just gave me it's so funny the way i was already threatening myself to stay with 1d forever.

yeah girl we are still here. little old me. you couldn't even begin to imagine the things we lived since this silly letter.

yes i'm happy here, i never stopped missing friends and hometown tho. yep i reached some dreams. yes we're still writing and dancing🥹🥹. we are not friends anymore. yes we told her we love her, she loved us for a long time too we still do, but we don't know if she still feels the same. we miss her very much.

and YES we are still directioners, we are trying to move past a really heartbreaking time you wouldn't have even imagined :( but yeah we are still here. probably will always be.

this is ur sign to write a letter to your future self y'all it's SO healing !!!

[filet-o-feelings]

Eating a cupcake, drinking tea and watching 911 from a hospital bed lol 3 out of 4 not bad

[eiko-chatter]

.

[ennaih]

Every Film I Watch In 2023:

132. Sons Of The Desert (1933) - a rewatch

[unproduciblesmackdown]

betting on this being a Certified Will Roland Christmas Extravaganza Rehearsal Moment

[rielzero]

Artfight Card 2024

Artfight link

Participation Plans 2024 and Forward

Revenge, Chaining, Friendly fires!

I cannot guarantee I'll revenge everything.

Unless we are close friends or Yearly Artfight rivals, please do not expect me to attack first.

I'm concerned with my energy levels, so my attacks and revenges are limited to simple drawings like my chibihead style, Comic Chibi or sketches. Because I am prioritizing my time for working on my comic, full render and toonchibi revenges may be limited.

[halonicheart]

Late Night Spirits

A/N: The gposes in this post have nothing to do with the fic, I have simply placed them here so that readers know what the characters look like. Diaval (dark purple hair) and Alois (minty hair) are both my ocs that I have been working on behind the scenes and I wanted to share just a slice of their story together for the moment. Also keep in mind Diaval goes by he/they pronouns and you can shove it if there is an issue with that.

Summary: Diaval comes across Alois making cocktails in the middle of the night. The two share a drink over idle chit chat that turns more intimate.

As of late, sleep had become more a foreign concept to Diaval. The stress of recent events slowly began to chip away at their mental fortitude and all that was left now was the skeletal remains. Though, now that they think about it, it was a dubious notion at best to insinuate they were ever entirely mentally sound... He was certainly better off than this. Diaval stares at his now spindly hands, the loss of weight being another result of the onslaught of dreadful occurrences that had befallen the scions. They were constantly on edge, waiting for the next series of head pains, aches and that voice spouting some nonsense of gates, throwing them wide or some such. Diaval would most certainly throw something, a nice brick at whoever this person was, knock them out clean. Oh how he revels at the thought of giving this mysterious menace a piece of his mind, making them pay for all the restless nights Diaval spent sitting in front of a messy vanity, staring at the ever growing bags beneath his eyes. 

A heavy, forlorn sigh escapes their lips as they lightly touch the hollows of their cheeks. They look more ghoulish by the day, they fear. Were it under any other circumstance, it would have been a charming notion but at this current time it was a harsh reminder of how neglectful they had been with their own well being. Diaval became so desperate for sleep at night that he contemplated casting a sleep spell on himself, the dilemma of that is a spell induced sleep is not truly resting the body, rather it was more a dormancy akin to sleep. Aether would not be replenished and there was no guarantee that Diaval would wake up at the proper time, if at all without the help of an outside force. Most nights he would simply lay down, smother his face into the pillow until exhaustion finally hit him, other nights well… were sleepless. This was one such night, concluded as they stood abruptly, nearly tipping over their stool. Diaval grabs a robe that was abandoned on the floor, thick and warm, and throws it on without a hint of grace. Maybe a sip of Spirits will help, might as well take advantage of the rather hefty arsenal of booze that was kept here. 

As they make their way down the dark hallways of The Rising Stones, their ears catch the sound of someone singing. Another restless soul it would seem, it was the first time Diaval heard this songbird, laced with a warm loving cadence as it echoed softly through the halls. It took them by surprise when they finally reached their destination to find none other than Alois, lost in own song as he skillfully put together some kind of cocktail with his eyes closed. Diaval tip toes closer, as to not startle him. They quietly hop onto the bar, waiting for Alois to finish his tune. When the final note trails off, Diaval begins to clap, effectively startling the poor man. “Oh my apologies! Oh I am so sorry I didn’t meant to-” 

Alois immediately hushes Diaval. “No, no it’s quite alright I just uh.. Was too caught up in my own world… it seems. I should be a bit more mindful of my surroundings.” He says as he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I.. didn’t wake you did I?” He sighs in relief when Diaval shook his head. “Oh thank the Heavens…” Something somber takes over his normally light hearted expression, he gazes into glass before offering it to Diaval instead of taking a swig himself. 

“...oh… thank you… but?” Alois hushes him once more before going back to mixing another drink. Diaval watches him for a beat before taking a hearty sip of a surprisingly sweet drink. “I… didn’t know you could sing.” They say barely above a whisper, they partly wonder if Alois even heard him but the eventual shrug of the man’s shoulders suggests he was most certainly heard. 

“I just prefer to keep it to myself and a very select few if I can help it. I uh, I’m not that great of a singer anyways…” There was a sweet blush painting his cheeks. “Self taught and all, if you could call singing non stop every night since you first learned to speak as such.”  

Diaval chortles softly. “I certainly would… I think you sing quite well, you have quite the talent. Why not quit the scion life and become a bar singer?” It was meant as a light hearted joke, but the harsh grimace Alois’ face tells him it didn’t land. “I-I.. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to offend!” They were ready to high tail it back to their room with all the mistakes they had been making tonight. 

The other man sighs sadly but offers a reassuring smile nonetheless. “It’s alright. I just.. I don’t like the idea of monetizing hobbies of mine… I fear I would lose interest in them. I’ve only got so many luxuries just for myself.” Alois swirls his now finished cocktail. What takes Diaval by surprise is the way he nearly chugs back the entirety of it. 

“Is mixology another hobby of yours…?” Diaval says as they try not to openly stare at Alois’ bobbing Adam's apple. “A man of many secrets you are…” Terribly humble as well. 

Alois places the nearly empty glass to the side before shrugging once more. “Recently took it up… still a bit rusty but this concoction is likely the best thus far… although it is a touch tangy.” That much didn’t bother Diaval, they preferred their drinks sweet over strong. “Enough about my hobbies for now, what’s keeping you up? I don’t mind lending an ear.” It was painfully obvious Alois didn’t like talking about himself for prolonged periods of time. For as long as Diaval has known him now, it has become startlingly apparent that they don’t know entirely much about him. A shame really, the two of them get on rather well or at least he thinks they do. It would be nice if he could open up to them just a little more… 

“Likely similar reasons to yours… down one too many scions… disembodied voice calling out to me and the others… existential dread… the fear I will never be rid of these dark circles… as you do…” They hoped that the last bit was more lighthearted than it sounded. “... fear of…” They rub their thighs together, wondering if they should really say what’s truly been eating at them the most. With another sip, Diaval throws caution to the wind and looks over at Alois as a deep frown pulls at the corners of his lips. “.. of being left behind…” 

This clearly took Alois by surprise. He hops onto the bar right next to Diaval with a worried look on his face. “Left behind…?” 

They nod once. “Yes.” They had known the others for some time now but they only truly joined the fray not too terribly long ago, there was still much that happened when they were not around and no one seemed keen on sharing the details. It wasn’t as if he was going to demand the others give him every last miniscule detail, they all had a right to privacy but it bothered him deeply when it felt as though pertinent information was being kept from him… as if he didn’t belong. “Mayhap if I had that silly little echo nonsense I would feel more… secure?” Diaval knew that would change little, more so when there were several amongst their ranks who were very much Echoless and seemed to belong more than he did. “It’s… hard to articulate the feeling properly. The more that happens the more I feel myself drifting somewhere far from everyone else… they all went through so much together… So where does that place me?” They know they all care for him, but they can’t shake the feeling of being an inadequate ‘hero’ of Eorzea. “I worry I’ll find myself alone… in a sense… while the others are off somewhere I can’t quite reach.” He abandons the last bit of his drink, placing the glass somewhere out of sight so he can wring his hands. 

Alois wanted to give him some kind of proper encouragement but he came up empty. Sadly, he can relate to the sentiment. Make no mistake, he knows he is a capable enough person but he’s also aware enough to know that he is not as capable as the heroes of Eorzea, and moreover, The Warriors of Light. They all played a role, even Alois and Diaval, and it is no small role… but the credit and praise will sooner fall on the more known faces than it would each either of them. It was not as if either of them were in this for fame or glory, but the recognition would be nice all the same. Something tangible to solidify they did belong amongst this band of fools trying their damndest to fight for a better tomorrow. Still, he can’t just leave Diaval to stew in his misery. “You… you won’t be alone.” He starts off a bit stiff but clears his throat with a renewed sense of bravado. “To tell you the truth I… I feel the same at times… so should you ever find yourself drifting… I’ll be drifting with you so you won’t be alone. Neither of us will be alone.” Alois’ smile is so painfully tender it makes Diaval’s heart surge into his throat.

“... how cheesy is that…” Diaval tries not to laugh too hard when Alois makes an odd strangled noise and blushes. “... thank you…” He smiles back at the man. The two stare at each other quietly for much longer than Diaval would have liked. While the smile never left Alois’ lips, Diaval started to switch and squirm under his gaze. “Don’t-!” They turn away, hiding behind their hands. “Don’t stare at me like that… especially when I haven’t done my makeup!” 

Without missing a beat, or reading the room, Alois pipes up. “You’re still so pretty though!” He leans in a bit closer causing Diaval to panic a little. “Really! With or Without you’re lovely!” 

“That’s not-!” Diaval turns to hiss at Alois, not realizing just how close he is and nearly bumps their noses together. The words die on their tongue, a strange pitched noise coming from his sealed lips. Something stormy behind to brew in Alois’ eyes, they seemed to glaze over just a touch. When it became too much for him to bear, Diaval lightly shoves him by the shoulder. After a mumbled apology from the man, Diaval speaks with a shaky voice. “Flattering… as that is… I’m afraid that this… lovely… face is looking more cadaverous by the second. I worry one day I’ll look into the mirror to see a specter… Ah-! Speaking of-!” They blindly reach for their glass, sip the remaining liquid and smile. “Thank you for the drink… and for your support…” 

Alois being ever the humble man insists it was nothing, his pleasure even. “I meant what I said… it wasn’t some passing whim. If you really do find yourself left behind… I’ll always be around.” He says with another storm behind his tender gaze. 

Diaval gulps before hopping off the bar. “I believe you!” He says nervously. “I should.. I best head back to bed… attempt to get some kind of rest…” They scurry just a bit aways, nearly tripping on their robes.

“Careful! We can’t have you getting yourself hurt now!” Alois says as he slides off and turns to clean up the mess he left behind. “Sweet Dreams… Diaval.” He throws one last smile over his shoulder before focusing back on cleaning. 

Diaval stands there like a gaping fool, staring at the wide expanse of Alois’ back as he works in almost silence. If they listened carefully, they could hear the softest hum of the same tune from before. They think over how Alois admitted he feels the same, how he opened up just a little more of his heart. Diaval is aware Alois can be a bit much, yet with all his almost silly faults… he was a good man. “... Alois…” He calls out to him. The man gives out a louder hum. Diaval doesn’t say anything at first. They find themselves standing right behind the man. “... if.. If I can’t sleep… Could we share another drink together? Mayhap… even a song or two…” 

Alois gives a throaty laugh as he wipes down a glass. “I would be more than happy to.” He was about to turn towards Diaval, but he nearly drops the now spotless glass as he feels the others wrap their arms around him, he can feel when Diaval just slightly nuzzles their face into his back. Looking over shoulder, he can see the other’s eyes are closed. Had Diaval remained quiet for just a moment longer, Alois would have lost himself counting the curls and waves in their hair where it was usually braided. He nearly missed the softest Thank you from them. “... anytime…” Diaval wordlessly lets go, sparing no glance as he scuttles off towards his quarters, leaving Alois to stare after him and stew on this feeling bubbling warmth into his chest.