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#irmo speaks
eerieechos · 1 year
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Obligatory Maia oc 🌿
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doodle-pops · 2 months
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The Ainur | With A Short Reader
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Request: Can I make a request for headcanons for how the Ainur would be with a short human reader? Around 5 foot tall? Like an elf of about 6 feet would only reach up to some of their chest or lower still, considering they’re like 7-9 foot tall. Would they be cute, teasing, protective, frustrated by the height difference? P.s. I love the way you characterise all the Ainur, it really feels like their personality, you do a fantastic job. - anon
A/N: Happy to fulfil this request and learn that you enjoy my characterisations of them anon. I tend to envision the Ainur as nothing less than nine feet since they are deities and display their power through their heights. So you’re going to appear super short next to them. Nonetheless, Enjoy!
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Manwë
The bird was too stunned to speak. Are you a child or dwarf, certainly that could not be your final height at the end of your growth? Unfortunately, it is your complete height which makes you appear as a little bird before the great King. Now his nickname ‘little bird’ makes more sense.
He cannot fathom how you can be the same size as a bean and packed with all that sass whenever he mentions how tiny you are. You require a ladder if you ever reach his head for a ‘level-headed’ talk.
Has no issue picking you up with one hand and carrying you around like his personal comfort toy when he’s having a bad day. Anyone commenting or teasing gets a look that speaks about them receiving a bolt of lightning.
Let us not forget his avian side which is going to fawn over how adorable you are. You’re tiny and squishy, perfect for belonging in his nest where he can shower you in affection all day long.
The size difference is outstanding. Just picture a baby lying in their parents' bed, looking like a little nugget among the pillows…that’s what you appear like anytime you snuggle in his bed. On numerous occasions, he didn’t see you and almost squished you under the sheets.
With your size, it means wearing his robes and marching around his room or Ilmarin pretending to be him while he silently watches from afar. You are drowning in his robes, don’t even wear his shirt, it’s a gown on you.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Irmo
Your size doesn’t change the way he’s going to shower you with ultimate love and affection. Apart from the minor teasing he’ll conduct for the fun of the situation, Irmo loves you the same way if you are tall.
A gentleman who enjoys using the opportunities when granted to lift you over puddles or streams so he can fawn over how you fit in his arms. He (and the others) can lift you with his pinkie and has done it before.
You are authorised to always sleep on his chest—you look like a kitten sleeping on his chest in his eyes—mainly because you like to roll and so does he and nothing good has arisen from you both rolling together.
Gets lost in crowds and he panics. He’ll be walking around asking if anyone has seen his little lover and he will give descriptions. “They’re about 5 feet, this short and very tiny. They look like an elfling…”
Saw children’s clothing on a walk with you in a boutique, did not know they were for children and excitedly stated, “Oh look! I believe these would look lovely on you! They even have your colours.”
Do not be upset with him, he didn’t know that it was children’s clothing. Irmo only wished to share the moment of shopping with you. But worry not, he gathers the best seamstresses and tailors to fashion you the finest wear that looks nothing like children’s clothes.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Námo
Has a smile on his face anytime you take the lead and walk in front of him, hence his reason for always telling you to lead the way. He’s a simple Vala, he wants to watch as you waddle like a duck with your short legs as you take him to Eru knows where.
Pretends to complain when you ‘borrow’ his robes because you missed him, but gushes mentally at the sight of how you’re drowning in his forever monochromatic black robes.
His viridian eyes were soft at the sight of you walking around, dragging his robes all over. The idea of complaining about getting them dirty has disappeared, and all he is thinking about is how you look like a penguin.
Your feet running across his halls are the equivalent of tiny pitter-patter and it’s how he can easily distinguish your presence; just listen for the tiny footsteps. But it never works out well when you’re among elves and lost in a crowd.
The first time you met his brother, Irmo mistook you for a child Námo adopted and congratulated his brother on softening up to the idea of children. To make matters worse, you played along—much to Námo’s annoyance—and clung to his arm, calling him ‘atar/daddy’.
Irmo was elated, you were dying of laughter and Námo was contemplating his life. He couldn’t believe this was the humour he signed up for the moment he fell in love with someone shorter than most individuals.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Ulmo
Mistook you for the child wandering the shores the first time he saw you in the distance and scolded you for playing in the deep waters without parental supervision. That was until he learned you weren’t a child and your permanent height for a lifetime.
‘Pebble’ was the most suitable nickname he gifted you since pebbles were small and cute…like you. Plus, he brings you pebbles, seashells and pearls from the ocean floor as a token of affection.
Because you’re smaller, your strokes as you swim alongside him are slower, so he’ll call the seals, dolphins or whales to swim alongside you for assistance. You’re even allowed to ride them anytime you two are swimming out in the depths.
Since Ulmo’s true form is staggering, he opts to appear around the same height as you are anytime he has to walk the earth. His favourite place to have walks would be the beach obviously.
Hand holding while watching the sunset and he’s quietly staring at your short fingers holding his larger hand. He loves holding your hand to fawn over the size. He would even slip on a cute ring with a pearl one day.
Because Ulmo is known for having no resting place as he wanders the waters of the world, he enjoys visiting your home. It’s even better if you live near a lake for him to have easier access to seeing you frequently. Cue Ulmo marvels at how small your household items are as he picks them up.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Oromë
Congratulations, you are the perfect size to sit on all of his creatures (and him) to ride through the forest with him. He cannot get over your tiny figure because he knows that you’re about the same size as an elfling and all his creatures are larger than you.
Roughhousing is a thing that occurs between you both and he gets caught up in the experience to forget how easily he can send you on a trip to Estë for healing…because it has happened multiple times.
Picks you up like a sack of potatoes and slings you over his shoulder when he has to carry you somewhere and you’re being troublesome, or he wants to randomly surprise you. You’re as light as a feather as he runs with you through the forest.
Swinging from his muscular arms anytime he flexes his muscles for you? Yes, yes you do, and he loves it. Fuels his ego to know that he’s strong and his lover can climb him like a tree. Clinging to his muscular physique and probably biting him? Yes, you do that he calls you a tiny beast who needs to be tamed.
Not the type to underestimate the size of a creature you can ride because of your size but is also cautious at the same time. Wanted to gift you a Shetland pony because you were small enough to ride one, but back out last minute knowing that he would receive an earful. Gave you a giant-sized tiger or dog as a companion.
You wear his pelts and pretend to act like him, attempting to wield his bow—sweetheart, you couldn’t even draw the strings—as though you were hunting.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tulkas
No different from Oromë and will playfight with you using the strength in his pinkie finger and you’d still have to bandage some body parts because accidents happen all the time. No worries though, he praises your injuries and makes you feel as though you fought a great battle with him.
He has no doubts, dismisses your strengths and associates them with your size having seen many great warriors display outstanding strengths and feats despite their size. Instead, he encourages you to take pride in your size and all the greatness you can accomplish.
You got a workout buddy, or rather he got a new dumbbell to lift or someone to sit on his back for push-ups. Your weight is inconsequential, but it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the fun in the moment.
Also picks you up like a sack of potatoes and carries you around the place, introducing you to all his close friends and elves. Anytime you need to speak ‘eye-level’ with him, instead of going to lengths to climb tables or a tree, he’ll kneel to your level.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Melkor
Getting called dwarf, child, or both the first time you meet will result in him changing the names and calling you a critter if you attempt to attack him for calling you short. Probably ‘ankle biter’ might be your new name because he denoted that small things have the most rage.
You’re a ferocious ankle-biter in his eyes whose nerves he enjoys getting on because your responses are hilarious. It’s all in jest…or maybe not.
Nothing of his will ever fit you, that also means trying to wear his crown with the Silmarils. It’s currently sitting on your neck as we speak. All you can do is make versions of his outfits tailored to your size.
You’re smaller, so his hands can cover your entire face. Know what that means? Squish your cheeks as you speak to admire how soft and dough-like they are. “Hm, ankle biter, you have remarkably soft cheeks,” he says while squishing your face.
There’s nothing you can climb on to meet his height because he makes sure that there isn’t anything around. He wants you to break your neck looking up at him (bite his ankles and he’ll reach your height).
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Eönwë
“You’re like a hummingbird minus the speed,” he chuckled upon the first sight of your tiny figure. You were lucky he didn’t consider you a lost child who wandered before him in search of help because he was ready to call you ‘child’.
I have to say, Eӧnwё is the best person to try the same ‘daddy’ prank on when you’re walking through the streets of Valimar but clinging to him and acting like a child for the elves to fawn over how adorable the interaction is. There is always an elf who inquires for you to look them in the eye and say, “This is my atya!”
His avian side adores your tininess; and makes you all the more delicate and squishable. You are never again going to leave the nest…just joking, but his protective side goes up a notch because you are TINY.
I mean, he loses you in a crowd easily and you can’t even jump high enough to show your location. You can climb a table or chair but still have to get past the sea of heads before Eӧnwё spots you.
Gets you the smaller version of everything so you don’t have to struggle with holding the larger objects. He once watched as you climbed a chair as if it were a mountain or fought with a glass of wine because the glass was too big to hold.
At least going on flights doesn’t change whether you’re extra small or bigger. Visits in the morning and takes you to watch the sunrise over the mountain from a bird’s eye view.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tilion
Doesn’t matter if you’re tiny or tall, you still look the same from his view in the sky as he guides the moon. But he does melt at the sight of you looking up at the moon.
You are forever his ‘little deer’ even though you’re probably feisty and love to bite or nibble on his arms all the time. Similar to Oromë, carries you around like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder, but more for the fun of watching your short legs dangle.
Doesn’t alter the size of any furniture so he can observe your legs dangling over the edges and sway, or the size difference between you and the table designed for a nine-foot entity.
Roughhousing is a constant must-have between you both because he adores pinning your smaller body under his and making you fight back. Tilion just wants to watch you struggle and wiggle like a worm. Bite him.
Puts you to sleep on top of him because it is the safest option unless you want to be crushed under a giant nine-foot Maia, and you look like a tiny kitten curled up on his chest. The only thing he hasn’t done is pick you up by your scruff.
He’s such a tease when it comes to you both riding through the forest. Tilion will purposefully place you behind him so you can’t see a thing and then tease you about being too small. But it’s all in jest because he’ll have you ride an elk or reindeer or even a pony that was handpicked to match your size.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Mairon
He also assumed you’re an ankle biter as well because he called you short and you were ready to attack. Please, do not release him from your tyranny because he will make fun of your height and pat your head or rest his arm atop your head when he’s resting. Again, bite him.
Complains about your short legs and how slow you are when you’re walking side-by-side but comes to you later to ask for assistance because some tool of his fell into a small hole and you’re tiny enough to get it.
Tells you that he’ll feed you to his wolves if you don’t stop clinging to him when in truth, he loves it. You’re small enough to not be a distraction as he moves about his forge or the fortress, but it’s just Mairon being a tsundere.
Doesn’t see you lying in his bed because his bed is huge and you’re extra small, so he almost lies atop your body. It’s turned into a staring match like how children stare you down without blinking.
Has a tendency to carry you around, for funsies, by holding onto your belt or grabbing the back of your clothes so you dangle as he powers through the corridors until he arrives at his Lord holding you like a briefcase.
Deep down, as much as he teases your size, he enjoys the differences. Watching you fight to lift an object made for his size or dress in his clothes—if you’re brave enough to try this—is entertaining.
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echo-bleu · 5 months
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shine still brighter (1/?)
On AO3. Deaf!Artanis bullet-point fic.
Here is yet another fic that I started thinking it would be 2k tops (I have almost 5k and haven't even started the main plot). It started as a mix of this art prompt I did, and a post I can't find now that went something like "it's a good thing that Galadriel hated Fëanor's gut, because if they had pooled resources they would totally have taken over the world." And I wanted to write Fëanor being a passionate linguist. The AO3 link has a Quenya name primer if you're confused.
(cw for mentions of difficult birth and post-partum, and mentions of ableism)
Artanis is born in pain and fear.
Her spirit is nearly as bright as Fëanáro’s. She’ll grow as strong and smart and stubborn as her half-uncle, but her birth also takes almost as much of her mother’s vital energy.
Eärwen doesn’t die. But she doesn’t recover very well, either. She’s very, very tired, too tired to really connect to her daughter for a long while.
Everyone is comparing it to Míriel and Fëanáro, and nobody is happy about that, Fëanáro least of all. Eärwen isn’t anything like Míriel. She shouldn’t get to have the spotlight like that.
Finwë is understandably focused on taking care of his youngest son and granddaughter for a while, which just makes it worse.
Arafinwë is very scared for Eärwen and overprotective of Artanis. Her brothers are already enamoured of her but also a little traumatized by the whole thing.
The baby is very cute and very awake, grabbing everything within reach in her tiny hands and pulling. Especially if it’s bright or moving.
Because of all the complications and worry over Eärwen, no one realizes that there’s something distinctly different about her.
Finwë is the one who sees it first.
Mostly because everyone else is dazzled by the strength of her fëa, but Finwë raised Fëanáro and he knows how to look past that.
Artanis has many of the same traits as Fëanáro that everyone worried about when he was a baby: she won’t look people in the eye, she sometimes screams when they pick her up, and sometimes screams even louder when they put her down (and her screams are the loudest since Makalaurë). She’s extremely picky about eating, and it doesn’t help that her mother doesn’t have the energy to feed her.
Those are all fine, Finwë knows how to handle that. Half of Fëanáro’s sons were and are like that too, and his other granddaughter.
No, the thing he notices is that singing entirely fails at settling her.
Fëanáro had a hard time falling asleep, but he would always settle with his favourite lullabies.
Artanis doesn’t even seem to hear them.
Actually, Artanis doesn’t seem to hear. Anything.
By that point she’s old enough that she should be starting to speak, but the only sounds she produces are wordless screams and laughter.
No music at all. Even the most tone-deaf of elflings know how to carry a tune before they learn how to speak.
Deafness is pretty much unheard of for the Calaquendi. There are some hard-of-hearing elves, but they mostly get on fine with speaking louder.
(The Moriquendi have Deaf elves. There have always been Deaf elves, but there’s something about Valinor’s perfection… Well, it’s partly that there haven’t been that many births in Valinor yet, and most of the disabled elves didn’t make it to Valinor for various reasons, from dying on the way to being scared that they weren’t welcome (the Valar were maybe not as clear as they should have been and some things got lost in translation). And some of that misunderstanding carried over into elves taking babies who are a little too different in Lórien to be “healed”. They’re never heard of again. So the number of visibly disabled elves in Tirion is very small.)
(Estë and Irmo take great care of the disabled elves and they find their own community together, but they don’t quite understand why the Calaquendi just leave babies on their doorstep. Some of them need medical care, yes, but many don’t.)
(Fëanáro would probably have ended up in Lórien if he hadn’t been the Crown Prince. And he knows it. The one time someone suggested that some of his sons might benefit from Estë’s help, he threw a fit so violent that no one ever spoke of it again.)
Survivor’s bias (the elves who made it through the Great Journey were the strongest one, and thus we, as a people, are strong and cannot be anything else) led to a good deal of ableism. Finwë has rather vague memories of disabled elves he knew growing up, but mostly as “they weren’t strong enough to make it”.
He’s already certain that Artanis, like Fëanáro, is absolutely strong enough to make it through anything. Also Míriel’s death after she made it with him through the Great Journey rather skewed his own perspective on that.
All this to say that he has some cognitive dissonance there, but his reaction to discovering Artanis’s deafness is more of less the same as his reaction to Fëanáro’s autism:
“Hey, Arafinwë, so your daughter can’t hear, but the good news is that she’s really smart and strong and also a princess, so all we have to do is teach her to be great at everything so people won’t notice.”
Arafinwë, blinking: “What.”
He’s not at all sure about this, but he’s also very much in over his head wrangling four kids on his own and caring for his ailing wife (Maitimo babysits when he can, and Findaráto is old enough to take care of himself most of the time, but it’s still a lot).
He agrees wholeheartedly that he won’t take his daughter to Lórien, because he’s very much not over being terrified of having to visit his wife’s body there and he’s not losing his daughter.
But it’s also a lot to take in and he doesn’t know what the right decision is for Artanis.
He’s also not entirely certain that trusting his father with it is the best idea.
Eärwen is not really well enough to help, and Olwë is definitely not helping by making remarks about Artanis’s strangeness every time he sees her, and maybe it would do her good to seek out help, and also Arafinwë should move their whole family to Alqualondë, can’t you see how much good it would do to Eärwen?
Ñolofinwë has enough work trying to wrangle his absolute terror of a daughter, who is barely more than a toddler and has taken a liking to Tyelkormo of all people.
Fëanáro won’t talk to him. Not that Arafinwë values his opinion. He’s not Ñolo, forever chasing after their half-brother who hates them. He’s not.
Findis thinks he should take Artanis straight to Lórien because a baby taking so much energy from its mother is not natural, and just look at how Fëanáro turned out, is that what you want your daughter to be like? (Arafinwë thinks that it’s unfair. Fëanáro’s a little intense, sure, and his dislike is hard to bear, but he’s not that bad.)
Lalwen really hates babies.
He is not close to his sisters-in-law.
As the youngest son of the King, he doesn’t really have close friends.
Maitimo is incredibly good with Artanis, but he’s barely an adult, he definitely can’t help with this.
Findaráto unconditionally adores his sister and is very distressed about it all.
“But Atar, why does it matter if she can’t hear? She’s perfect as she is!”
“How are we going to communicate with her, though?”
Findaráto takes his hand and leads him to little Artanis, who is playing with blocks on the floor.
“Hey,” he tells her, sitting down across from her. “Are you hungry?” Saying that, he pats his belly, and then mimics eating with his fingers.
Artanis claps her hands and nods, squealing. She puts her fingers in her mouth, twice, and then holds up her arms to be picked up.
“See?” Findaráto says, turning back to his father. “It’s easy.”
These words stay with Arafinwë. Artanis doesn’t go to Lórien, Eärwen recovers little by little, and it is, indeed, easy enough to find out when Artanis is hungry or sleepy or wants something with simple signs.
Osanwë with little children doesn’t really work past sharing basic emotions, it’s not really communicative.
Finwë valiantly tries to get her to speak. Arafinwë isn’t actually sure if she can’t or if she just won’t.
He feels like trying to speak when you can’t hear yourself, and you don’t even know what words sound like, is probably very hard work. Playing with blocks in understandably a lot more fun.
Findaráto is Artanis’s favourite person by far, and they’ve become good at communicating without words, though no one else can understand them when they do. They’re using a mix of basic hand signs and facial expressions. She follows him everywhere, and he lets her ride on his back when she’s tired.
Maitimo, who has five brothers and a father who regularly have silent days (Makalaurë has never had a silent day in his life), is also very good at figuring out what she wants and needs, though they don’t really communicate beyond that.
But Artanis is growing up, and increasingly frustrated at not being able to communicate her thoughts. Her system with Findaráto is good for simple things, but she’s having complex thoughts now.
She’s also old enough to know that she’s different, and to know that everyone else is talking over her.
She’s not going to take that affront lying down.
She turns into a terror.
Not an Írissë-style terror, running away and climbing trees and biting people. No, she’s an Artanis terror. A very focused terror.
She rejects anybody who doesn’t understand her. And since she has no real mean of expressing herself in an understandable way, that’s everybody.
She’s figured out that screaming very loudly in someone’s ear is a good way of getting them to go away.
The Arafinwëans start wearing earplugs while at home.
It gives them a new appreciation of Artanis’s plight, when they try to speak to each other over her screams and can’t understand anything, but it’s also very tiring.
Artanis, in her child’s logic, rejects Findaráto the strongest. Because he’s the one who makes the most effort and he still can’t solve this for her and it’s so unfair.
Findaráto takes it very hard and is depressed for two years straight. He’s been so focused on Artanis that he never really reckoned with the trauma of his mother almost dying and his sister nearly being given to Estë, so it suddenly hits him and now Arafinwë has two children to worry about.
Angaráto and Aikanáro take to spending a strange amount of time with Carnistir and Arafinwë doesn’t like much the sounds of Maitimo’s reports on his sons’ behaviour. But he doesn’t really have the bandwidth to deal with it.
Eventually Arafinwë has had enough. Everyone is trying to give him advice and absolutely none of it is useful. People in Tirion are whispering about Artanis’s behaviour, and what it says about her parents.
(Fëanáro, for all his intensity, was actually a very quiet child, and his eccentricities were dismissed as a result of his motherlessness. Finwë’s capabilities were never put to doubt.)
He only wants the best for Artanis, it’s just that he can’t figure out what that is. His daughter is hurting and it tears him apart.
(Eärwen agrees with him, but she’s gone to stay at her parents’ for a while because all the screaming and stress were making her relapse.)
What he knows is that a) the problem is mostly communication and b) what has worked the best so far was Findaráto using gestures.
What they need is some way to make the gestures more complex.
They need a language made out of gestures.
Who do we know who’s into linguistics and invented their entire writing system?
Arafinwë takes his courage in both hands, fully anticipating a disaster, and goes to talk to Fëanáro.
“You want me to invent an entire language of gestures for your daughter,” Fëanáro blinks.
“Yes. And then I want you to teach it to me.”
“...do you have any idea how much work that would be?”
“Probably not, but I know you’re the only one who can do it.”
He expects Fëanáro to say he’s too busy to do anything for people who aren’t even really his family, or to go on a rant about Arafinwë’s thoughtlessness or his entitlement or something.
Instead, all he says is, “Come back in three weeks. And bring her along.”
Stay tuned for part 2!
All of my Disabled Tolkien Characters posts.
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cilil · 3 days
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It comes in Threes
✍ Prompt: Ages of captivity + the Fëanturi | Melkor, Námo, Irmo & Nienna ✍ Synopsis: During three ages of captivity, Melkor is visited by all three Fëanturi siblings. ✍ Warnings: / ✍ Triple drabble ✍ SWG archive
Námo is the first to visit him, unsurprisingly — it's his halls Melkor is trapped in, after all. 
He expects him to relay his brother's flimsy excuses or lecture him on laws and morals, but the Judge is silent. All he does is check on him and linger, as if he's quietly offering his companionship and wisdom. 
Melkor meets his silence with his own, proud and stubborn. He cares little about whatever Námo has to offer, feeling cheated and betrayed by his own kin.
The law is meaningless to him, and fate can be changed. 
He greets Námo with mocking smiles. 
Irmo appears even before his sorrowful sister does, and Melkor envies him for how easily he enters and exits his brother's halls, as if Námo's spells bend to his every will and whim. 
And perhaps they do — Irmo has always been his one weakness. 
To Melkor's surprise, he doesn't attempt to scold or preach; rather he seems curious and asks him questions. 
The fallen Vala lies and evades some, of course, but he deigns to engage Irmo in conversation.
"Why do you ask?" he inquires nevertheless, and the Fëantur smiles mildly. 
"I want to understand, and I know I can."
Nienna visits him last, and as predictable and inevitable as it seems to him, Melkor finds that he harbours no ill will towards her. 
She is perhaps the only one he cares to see, and this time he is the one to speak first. 
"How is it that you still defend me," he wonders, "even though everyone is of the opinion that I am the cause of every single tear you shed?" 
"Because you too deserve compassion, and I was never angry with you," Nienna answers.  "For I know well that, to cause such hurt, you yourself must be hurting.”
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Thanks for reading! ♡
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pearlescentpearl · 1 year
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Rebirthed!Maedhros AU
The previous post was getting long enough to be cumbersome, so we’re starting fresh.
Presenting; Part 8! Utúlië lómë
Findekáno’s funeral is a tense, shellshocked affair
Naturally, the entire family attends. Ruining all previous efforts to evacuate them
Maitimo cannot look his aunt and uncle in the eye; it was his idea to run back to Tirion
It’s alright if they blame him. He blames himself too
Fëanáro furiously checks and rechecks the stained glass windows, looking for proof they were tampered with
After the fifth time, Ñolofinwë takes a hammer to the broken window until not one shard of glass remains in it
Anairë takes a bigger hammer to each and every stone in the receiving hall touched by her son’s blood until only rubble remained, forcing Finwë to order new flooring
The sight of Findekáno bristling and bloody from glass shards is one that will haunt them all for a long, long time
Maitimo drifts about as one hollowed out, thoughts and emotions trickling out of him like sand through cracks. He, Angaráto, and Aikanáro attempt to find some solace in each other’s company, but in truth Findekáno was their strongest bridge, without whom a chasm seems to gape between them
He wanders Tirion instead, unable to bear company, not knowing what he’s looking for
(That is a lie, he knows exactly what he’s looking for)
He admits it’s a lie when he finds Melkor in the smithy district and the drought-stricken, hollow places in himself flood with rage. Such wrath as he has never known, he snatches up a finished knife from a smith’s stall and attempts to drive it through Melkor’s heart right then and there
The confrontation is unspeakably public
It takes three people to restrain him
News gets back to Manwë
A trial is called at Máhanaxar
It is every nightmare Maitimo knew it would be
He accuses Melkor of seven murders; he has no proof to back it up
Melkor speaks, and it is lies and ruin. He tells of how Maitimo is one of his former victims, freshly remembered, and confused by the horrors of the past. 
“How ashamed I am for the pain I have caused him!” Melkor declares before all. “I’ve done what I could to help him reconcile the past with the present but-- oh, but pain is never reasonable. After several accidents befell his loved ones it must have touched too close to my shameful past actions; he blamed me to explain his pain.”
“Do not blame him, brother,” Melkor entreats. “He is hurting. He needs help, compassion, understanding.”
Nienna rises, moved by this plea, and joins her voice to his
It’s the final nail
Manwë rises and makes his judgement known; “To act from pain is understandable. But to deliberately cause more pain by your actions is not acceptable. If time and healing is what it will take to mend this; hereby do I declare Maitimo Nelyafinwë Fëanárion is exiled to Lórien, to abide under Estë and Irmo’s care, for the next ten years--”
The uproar in the House of Finwë is beyond outrage
“--may he find the peace of mind he requires to live joyfully once more,” Manwë finishes
The hollowing shock settles in again. It’s over. It’s really over. He’s ruined their chances of exposing Melkor. Whatever he says now, whatever his family says, it will always be tainted by this day. The uphill climb has become a mountain, an encircling Pelóri trapping them within
This is his fault
Again
“--fine then! Fine!” His father is shouting somewhere behind him. “If my son is to be exiled, then so shall I be as well!”
“Fëanáro!” Finwë exclaims. “Lower your voice!”
“I will not!”
No. No, no no no
Hasn’t his family suffered enough from his actions?
Maitimo turns and pushes his way out of the crowd surrounding the Ring of Doom; his family, many of his friends, a number of quietly observing Vanyar. Many familiar faces try to greet him, but he cannot bring himself to speak
A hand lands on his shoulder. “Give him some air, people!” Ñolofinwë shoos them away, firmly steering Maitimo out into the open field around the great thrones of the Aratar
Maitimo lets himself be led
He owes his uncle this
He got his son killed
“Well,” Ñolofinwë says. “Well--” he cuts himself off, face spasming
“I’m sorry,” Maitimo says, miserable
“For what?” Ñolofinwë asks, voice tight
“Everything,” Maitimo says. “Running headlong into a trap. Losing my temper in public. Discrediting our entire family in front of the absolute last person I should have. Take your pick, I have many things to be sorry for.”
“Nelyafinwë,” Ñolofinwë says, hand tightening on his shoulder, “the only reason you are on trial for attacking Melkor is because I failed to get to him first. The only reason.”
His head snaps up at that
“If I am mad at you,” Ñolofinwë continues, “it is mostly because I am jealous. I should not be. I wouldn’t have fared any better than you. But still--”
“Still.” Maitimo nods
Ñolofinwë claps him on the shoulder, mouth tight, gaze on the horizon, and. Maitimo supposes it’s forgiveness of a sort
It’s good enough
“There you are!” Nerdanel cries, crashing into his side, clinging to him in hard hug
Makalaurë hits his back with his own hug, only letting go to elbow Curufinwë in the gut so Ambarussa can get there first. It feels good to be surrounded by his family’s smothering affection, shores up some of his crumbling foundation
“Father’s not really exiling himself, is he?” Maitimo asks his mother, face buried in Tyelkormo’s shoulder
“We all are,” Nerdanel hisses furiously. “This is outrageous!”
“Not to Lórien though,” Carnistir says. “We need a place we can fortify.”
“We’ve got some ideas,” Tyelkormo adds. “Don’t worry about us. We can handle this.”
“Who all is going with?” Ñolofinwë asks wearily, looking awkward and alone outside their huddle
“Just our House,” Nerdanel says. “Fëanáro’s insistence. Too many other people need Finwë for him to leave, you and your family chief among them. Unless you want to come with?”
Ñolofinwë snaps around to look at her. “Fëanáro is letting me have father?”
“He’s not heartless, law-brother,” Nerdanel says, stepping away to hold out her hand. “He doesn’t hold you so far away he can’t be moved to pity by your grief.”
“I-- alright.” Ñolofinwë grabs her hand, squeezes briefly, lets go to bury his face in his hands, turning away, shoulders shaking. “I might... might join you later. Not now, but. Later. Later.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
The trip to Lórien is the quietest and unhappiest yet
But not the most hopeless
Not quite
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ibrithir-was-here · 9 months
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Super need to go to bed and I'mma bout to but got hit by a thought.
The Endless have been made parts of other pantheons before, as we've seen with the Greek Pantheon, Morpheus in particular and have likely been pulled into many others over the eons of existence, so:
The Endless as part of the Valar?
Particularly I'm thinking of the Feanturi sibling trio of Mandos, Nienna and Irmo
Doesn't it totally work for Destiny, Death and Dream?
Mandos/Destiny as the Doomsman, dealing out fate and getting conflated with his sister Neinna/Death's role, whose compassion in her role is more emphasized by the folk of Middle Earth. And then, of course Irmo/Dream just speaks for itself.
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nyarnamaitar · 14 days
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Ulmo Comforts His King
(AKA a small Ulmo x Manwë drabble I wrote in 5 minutes and decided to throw into the Void)
— — — — — —
He is still not looking at you. He raised his eyes briefly, yes, to meet yours, but he quickly lowered them again. His face is very pale and he seems smaller somehow, curled into himself. He has always been quiet by nature, contemplative, the trappings of his position forcing him to speak more and louder than he would do if he were not crowned king. But this is no comfortable quiet of his; his features too neutral, the curve of his spine too tense.
“Highest?” you ask, trying to get his full attention, trying to connect as you have always done whenever you are together. “Manwë?” you add, pushing, when he remains silent. You are growing desperate, you realise. It has been a while since you have last had a real, private moment with your dearest friend. You miss him. At first, when Melkor — Morgoth, the Eldar call your foe now, deservedly— betrayed you and yours, destroyed the Trees, and fled to his stronghold in the North, Silmarils in hand, you came speeding to your king, and during and in-between the long hours of council, you fought the urge to pull him to the side and let the words I told you so, did I not? He was never worthy of your mercy, let alone your love roll from your lips, but you fear that he heard them anyway. Ever you have failed to keep your heart hidden from him.
And now it has come to this: the radiance of your lord dimmed, his heart and soul surrounded by tall walls, his eyes averted from yours.
And though his demeanor does not come as a surprise — your kinsmen warned you — it still pains you to the very core of your being. He barely speaks to me, Námo said, and when he does, he only ever asks for advice of a political nature. He stares at Vairë’s tapestries in silence. He no longer visits Irmo’s gardens.
We used to enjoy sitting together, Yavanna and Vána told you, enjoying the sight of flowers in bloom and the touch of the wind in the meadow. Now he rarely strays from his mountain home. Even the birds feel his absence; their songs are muted.
My love is grieving, Varda confided, he needs time — or so he told me. But I know his heart and I worry. Sea King — Ulmo — friend — will you not talk to him?
So now you are here, in front of him, yet no words are sufficient to encompass the enormity of what you feel, what you wish to tell him. I know you are ashamed; do not be. I know you believe I judge you; I do not — I never did — I only ever sought to protect you. I know you find yourself unworthy of your station; do not condemn yourself so. You are by far the worthiest among us. Please believe me. Please allow me to stand by you, as I have always done. Do not push me away, where I cannot find you.
His soft-spoken words, almost whispers, take you out of your reverie. “Sea King — Ulmo — what brings you here?” he asks, as if he cannot quite grasp why anyone would willingly seek out his company. It is this uncertainty, this self-hatred you hear in his voice that makes something balk within you, scream in outrage. You have to make this right. Now. You go to him, almost running, and before he can flee into hiding, you take his hands and kiss his wrists — his pulse is like the thunder that precedes a storm —, his open palms. You pull him closer to you and you look up. The walls are down, finally leveled, and you see tears clouding his blue eyes. He bows his head in sorrow. You embrace him, and he goes willingly, curls himself against your chest. Something slumbering within you unwinds and comes to life. From this day forth, you swear to yourself, you will not waver from his side.
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edensrose · 2 years
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Tolkien characters when they’re s/o falls asleep in their lap? Amazing work as always❤️
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( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ tolkien characters ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔
· ⊰ synopsis. thranduil, legolas, mairon, melkor, manwë, irmo, námo and fëanor's reaction when their s/o falls asleep in their lap
· ⊰ note. absolutely! thank you <3
( masterlist ) ( taglist form )
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ THRANDUIL 
ʚ He had promised to be with you in a moment, he just wished to finish a few more things and then would pay all of his attention to you. Thranduil allowed you to cuddle up in his lap while he worked 
ʚ Wouldn’t realise you fell asleep until after he finished and called out your name - but received no response 
ʚ Feels a little bad when he sees that you ended up falling asleep. Did he really take that long?
ʚ He slowly picks you up, putting you under the covers and pulling you to his chest 
ʚ Plays with your hair a little before he too falls asleep 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLEGOLAS 
ʚ You were both stargazing. Legolas was rambling on about some quest and as intrigued as you were - you couldn’t help but fall asleep to the sound of his voice 
ʚ He would notice fairly quickly. At first trying to keep you awake as he wished to spend more time with you - but when he saw how precious you looked with your sleeping expression, he decided against it 
ʚ Doesn’t get up, instead admiring how you snuggled up into him, the moon shining down on your face, you looked so peaceful 
ʚ Probably leans down and peppers little kisses to your face, before bringing you closer and also falling asleep beneath the stars 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMAIRON 
ʚ He let you sit in his lap whilst he worked on his eyeliner as you had wished to learn a thing or too. You tried to pay attention, to listen to his little instructions - but he was just so warm. You ended up drifting off 
ʚ Mairon was a little irritated over the fact that you fell asleep whilst he was trying to teach you something 
ʚ Probably even had half a mind to wake you up. He moves to shake you awake but immediately freezes up with the way you snuggle up into his chest and breathe his name out in comfort 
ʚ He’s still, trying to wonder why that alone gave him so much butterflies. But he pushed the thought aside, wrapped his arms around you and admired your sleeping form 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMELKOR 
ʚ He was on his throne with you in his lap. Not particularly doing anything as he was a little busy talking to one of his subjects. Melkor is much bigger than you in size so you always felt quite comfortable within his lap - so much so that you fell asleep 
ʚ Only takes notice when the person leaves and he turns to speak to you but receives no answer. A part of him almost thinks that you’re ignoring him 
ʚ Practically shakes you awake - only to hear your whine before you huff, snuggle into his chest and fall back asleep 
ʚ That’s when he realised that he more or less woke you up. He remains still, unsure whether he should take you back to the room or wake you up again 
ʚ He’s so unsure that he just ends up staying there, arms around you. Did you feel so safe with him that you would fall asleep on him? He quite liked that thought 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMANWË
ʚ You were cuddling up to him after a long day, and he returned them all gladly. He often sang to you when you’ve had a rough day and that’s exactly what he did now - how couldn’t you fall asleep?
ʚ He almost felt his heart explode when he felt you limp into him and nuzzle into his chest. He glances down to confirm his theory and yes - you were asleep 
ʚ Smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your head, calling you his perfect little dove before wrapping his wings around you to provide even more comfort 
ʚ Stays there with you, not necessarily falling asleep and rather continuing his little lullaby. Most likely puts off a duty or two, telling Eonwe to handle them. How could he give up this little bundle of joy in his arms?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ IRMO 
ʚ He was braiding your hair whilst you told him about your day. Needless to say you were rather exhausted and just wanted to cuddle up to your dreamy ( literally ) boyfriend 
ʚ Seeing as how distressed you were, Irmo allowed his powers to come into play whilst he spoke to you. Sowing a little sedative in his words to try and bring your form into slumber - and it worked 
ʚ He doesn’t usually use this on you much, but today you were practically fighting to stay awake despite your evident exhaustion, he couldn’t allow you to neglect yourself 
ʚ Brings you into his arms, peppers a few kisses along your neck before curling up in the little spot in his garden to take a nice long nap with you 
ʚ Spooning! Irmo absolutely loves it. You fit so perfectly with him 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ NÁMO 
ʚ He took you along to a little meeting with his maiar, not exactly expecting it to drag on for so long. You always felt most comfortable in his lap - and ended up falling asleep before the end of it 
ʚ Námo only really noticed when one of his maia points out and takes a few moments to stare down at your sleeping form. Half not knowing what to do, half silently admiring 
ʚ He ends the meeting after a few more moments, leaving his subjects a little surprised - but pleasantly so when they saw him standing to his feet and scooping you up in his arms 
ʚ Tries his hardest not to wake you - and when you stir he lowers his typically intimidating and deep voice to hush you back to sleep 
ʚ He takes you back to his resting chamber and finds his bed, not once removing you from his lap
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFËANOR 
ʚ Let you sit in his lap whilst he sketched out some designs for forging new weapons. He was explaining to you the process and rambling on about the craft that he adored so much - you almost felt bad for falling asleep, but how could you not when listening to his voice and heartbeat?
ʚ Saw that you had fallen asleep and stopped everything he was doing in an instant - should he feel offended that you fell asleep?
ʚ He wanted to, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not with how adorable you looked snuggling up to his chest 
ʚ Fëanor curses a little under his breath - he’s going soft. But the smile on his lips would tell anyone that he did not mind, especially if it was for you
ʚ Places everything down and wraps his arms around you, watching the fire in his forge whilst he rests his chin on your head and murmurs how much he loves you 
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taglist — @kiatheinsomniac @augustwithquills @blueberryrock @a-chaotic-dumbass @m-shade @nerdydcfan @flowerchildishere @camilomyshiningsun @bugnug @algae-rave @snakesofindia-sursesaji @theroguemaia @heraluthor @pinkslashersimp @the-girl-king @qwerty-19923 @livialounalamontagne @perwaineintsomi @yellowbadgermole @spoopy-fish-writes @itsdameron @aeonianarchives @rurifangirl @tumblertatiana-blog
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Content warning for graphic depictions of sexual abuse and rape, grooming, and eating disorders.
Every few weeks another story like this becomes public knowledge, and every single time I think about all the young kids and teens at my rink and how clear it is that the federation is failing to protect them at every turn. To know the sport that they love, that they pour their heart and soul into everyday, actively does not care about their health and well-being is crushing. They deserve a safe and supportive community to learn and grow within, not one that actively fosters and protects abusers.
I am incredibly thankful to the victims for speaking out and sharing their story.
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lamemaster · 9 months
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Call Me Mommy (Nerdanel x Reader)
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Pairing: Nerdanel x Reader
AN: I love her and I write this with my heart. I am a proud and shameless Nerdanel simp.
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"What are YOU doing here?" Makalaure now known as Maglor asks you.
"Hmm let me think," you dramatically tap a finger on your head as you don a brooding pose. "Wait a second what are you and your brothers doing here? Last I heard you left for the noble quest of avenging your grandfather."
Maglor glares at you with whatever meager rage is leftover after all the ages worth of suffering. "How long have you been here?" In this situation 'here' is the very spacious and 'constructed optimally to capture the best sunlight throughout the day' house that Nerdanel owns.
Despite the confrontational tone, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at the princeling in front of you. "I have been here for four ages," you ease back into your chair trying to ease the pain in your back, age certainly was catching up with you. Despite being immortal it was creeping into your bones. "Someone had to be here," you try not to remember the earlier days of your presence in this house.
It had been a ruin. A house decaying with its owner, who was none other than your friend, Nerdanel. Someone you grew up with. The one you shared your days of prime with. Your partner in stealing peaches from a guarded orchard and your companion in getting caught running away with the fruit.
"Are you trying to take my father's place now that he has been doomed from the world? Trying to woo my mother in her vulnerable state?" Your breath hitches at the accusations. You turn around trying to sense another presence besides yours and Maglor. There is none but relief is short-lived.
Maybe you should have expected this but then again expectations have always failed you...most of them have. "I expected nothing Prince Maglor. I stopped doing that long ago."
It had stopped when your friend gushed to you about the Noldor prince who came to study at Mahtan's. You had smiled with her and laughed with her, you celebrated her love for another with her. You could not fail her as her friend. Your heart would not allow that.
"I have been here nothing more than a friend." You try to ease the agitated elf next to you. It wasn't surprising that Maglor had caught on to your secret. He was smarter than his brothers, sharper with his mind and his notes. "And trust me, I got the hint when she had seven of you with your father." You try not to remember the vivid letter that Nerdanel sent you announcing each one of her pregnancies.
"I will believe what I want," Noldo announces with arrogance lacing his words. Irmo's healers were too good at their job. From the crazed seaside elf to this...they should have worked a little less on his pride.
You stand up from your chair. Straightening your gown you prepare to leave before Maglor can further stall you. "Well then I guess you can call me mommy," you barely restrain your laugh at Maglor's half disgusted, half shook expression.
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Maglor sits next to his mother on a chair so high that his legs barely touch the ground. But he does not care, he is sure his mother will catch him at the slightest falter.
His mother sits on her desk which is sprawling with designs for sculptures and other commissions. However, today a section of the brimming desk is meticulously cleared to spread out a series of letters.
Maglor listens carefully as his mother reads to him every single letter. The letters speak of his grandpa Mahtan's town. They are vivid and written in painstaking detail.
They seem to delight his mother. And Maglor giggles with his mother. He mirrors her smile and laughter.
However, in moments when his mother is caught in reading the words Maglor's smile crumbles. Despite the jolly words and colorful scenes painted by the writer of the letters, Maglor can't help but sense the lingering desire for something unsaid.
Late at night when Maglor lies in his bed he cannot help but imagine a solitary writer putting all those words into a piece of paper just for his mother. A writer who does that with a hidden motive.
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aureentuluva70 · 8 months
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It's Ainur week, so I thought I'd talk about the lesser acknowledged Valar, the first being Este.
Despite being one of the Valar, Este seems to play a pretty minor role in the Silmarillion. She is mentioned only a handful of times, with the most info we get on her being from the Valaquenta:
"...Este the Gentle, healer of hurts and weariness, is his [Lorien's] spouse. Grey is her raiment; and rest is her gift. She walks not by day, but sleeps upon an island in the tree-shadowed lake of Lórellin. From the founds of Irmo and Estë all those who dwell in Valinor draw refreshment; and often the Valar come themselves to Lórien and there find repose and easing of the burden of Arda."
And...that's about it. We get very little else about her, which I must admit I find curious considering just how important the theme of healing and rest often is in many of Tolkien's works.
Many of Tolkien's heroes are often healers or receive healing in some way or another. One particularly well known one is Aragorn. "The hands of a king are the hands of a healer, and thus shall the rightful king be known." It is precisely Aragorn's ability to heal others that defines him as the rightful king of Gondor.
But there are many, many other healers in Tolkien's works aside from just Aragorn. There's Elrond, Luthien, Beleg, Glorfindel, Melian...
Speaking of Melian, I find it interesting that Melian, who is a powerful maia not to mention an incredibly important character in her own right, was said to have served Este and Vana in Valinor, both of whom are often seen as unimportant or out of place amongst the Valar.
As Dawn Felagund points out in her biography of Este, "Melian's own potency and agency within the story suggests Este did more than sleep and dabble about in Lorellin. Instead, we see in her relationship with Melian her role as a teacher of other women in her arts and power. Este's role in mentoring so powerful a character as Melian implies a similar--or greater--power within Este herself, even if this implication never bears out in the text of The Silmarillion."
This seems to suggest that it's not that Este's role is insignificant, but rather that her power simply often goes about unseen. It's not something that is as dramatic and obvious as Ulmo appearing to Tuor or Tulkas taking down Melkor. It's something that is much more subtle, but no less profound and powerful. Her power and influence can rather be seen in those she teaches, who in turn teach others what Este taught them.
I doubt it is a coincidence that the powers of Este appear the most clearly in the happiest and most hopeful of the tales of the Elder Days: The Tale of Beren and Luthien. Through magic revolving around sleep and peace, Luthien-daughter of Melian-is able to accomplish deeds no other person could have done. Her skill in healing is what saves Beren multiple times throughout the story. Her magical cloak, "enmeshed with woven spells of sleep" allows her to overcome not just Sauron but allows her to lull Morgoth himself to sleep. Only by the seemingly insignificant things were these great deeds accomplished.
"Many are the strange chances of the world, and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the wise falter."
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silmarillion-dnd · 8 days
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Classes & Sub-Classes, part 2:
Cleric & Druid:
Masterlist
Bonus: You start with 6 bonus for your Standard Array, and you can move around your chosen Class Standard Array for your liking, it´s just there to help along
Note; this will not be built up like DND 5e but is heavily inspired by it
Cleric:
All Clerics start as level 3 devoted, and two Cleric spells. At level 5 you get three and at level 12 five. You get knowledge in the domain of the deity (Vala or Maia) you are devoted to, say you were a devoted to Este, or one of her Maia, you know 2 healing spells on top of your three spells, one of them being sleep, and you have advantage when rolling if someone needs healing or you need to know something about herbs. Your main quest in you life is spreading the word of your deity and sometimes your deity will speak through you to help you along, you trust your deity wholeheartedly and don´t believe they could ever do anything wrong. You inspire people around you with your faith and hope and can roll with an advantage to make your foe hesitate. When fighting it almost feels as if your deity is standing beside you, guiding you. Note that if you are devote to a Vala you have been given an object and two spells or some form of bonus as you are level 3 devote, you can also get gifts like these if you are devoted to a Maia but they might look different depending on the Maia.
Pros: You have advantage on wisdom, history, religion, medicine, arcane, and detect magic, and you have a bonus action for each turn.
Cons: Your morals are your deity´s morals, disadvantage with heavy weapons and heavy armor in one, but can have one of them.
Saving Throws: Advantage on proficiency, wisdom.
Equipment:
One melee weapon, of any kind - example; a mace or a warhammer, etc
One simple light weapon, of any kind, - example; short bow, dagger, etc
A shield and a blessed talisman (symbol)
Medium or light armor - example; scale mail, leather armor
A priest’s pack or an explorer’s pack
Standard Array:
Strength; 13
Dexterity; 12
Constitution; 15
Intelligence; 10
Wisdom; 16
Charisma; 10
Sub-Classes:
Chaos Path (trickery & darkness): This is the path of mostly Melkor but also Irmo, and their Maiar, and even rouge Maiar. Your alignments can´t be lawful as you enjoy tricking others, whether it be small harmless pranks or pulling them along and your game of manipulations is your own choice. You have advantage on deception, sleight of hand, charisma, and perception. You´re three start spells are; create illusion close, turn invincible and bestow curse. 
Song Path (knowledge): You can take this path no matter what deity you choose to serve, the main purpose is to be the greatest loremaster of all there is. If you are a smith or a devoted to Aule this Sub-Class will make the most sense for you as it sparks creativity and knowledge. You can always learn more, both from a book and stories but also from your own making. You have advantage in intelligence and wisdom. You can choose two of your own three starters spells, the other is bless.
Life Path (& nature): This path is for the servants of Este, Yavanna, Vana, Orome, and Ulmo, or their Maia. Your enemies have disadvantage when attacking you. You can only wear medium armor and have medium weapons. Your three start spells are; aid, cure wound, and detect poison and disease.
Death Path: This path works if you want to be a Necromancer as a Sub-Class if you devote yourself to Melkor or Mairon, or anyone under Mairon´s service. You only take half damage from lethal blows. Namo, Nienna, and Vaire. Your three start spells are; blindness/deafness, bane, and calm emotions.
Light Path: The Valar for this path are Varda, Manwe, Irmo, Nessa, and Yavanna, and of course any Maia under them, although your deity can´t be a rouge Maia. You are an excellent healer and run straight into a fight against evil, your morals are strong and you are hard to convince. You have advantage on insight and can blind enemies one time per long rest up until level 5 where it will be three times. Your three start spells are; beacon of hope, cure wound, and detect Evil and Good.
Righteous Path (peace & order): There are two paths for this path, one where you always look for a peaceful solution and one where you head into battle at the smallest sign of unjust. You are stubborn and believe yourself always right, especially when it comes to morals. You have advantage on strength or insight depending on which deity you choose. The most suitable Valar are Tulkas, Ulmo, Manwe, Nienna, and Aule, and any form of Maiar, with similar domain. Your three start spells are; beacon of hope, bane, and aid.
Most suitable Race: All races are suitable for this class.
Druid:
Druids value nature and balance, they oppose cults and anything that might disturb Nature's balance. They accept that cruelty is a part of nature and don´t mind it unless they deem it unnatural, they sometimes lead small raids against what they deem evil and they think are destroying the balance of the world. They are often found guarding sacred places or watching over wild nature. They value bravery and the wish to protect. There are two forms of Druids, one who is worshipping nature and balance itself, and the other who worships nature through a chosen Vala, these usually resident close to temples or shrines.
Pros: Druids start out with two spells, heal wound, and earthshake ( this is a, half, weaker form of the spell with the same name in 5e, but when reaching level 8 it works the complete same way). They can use medium weapons. Most Druids have “Wild Shape”. They can speak to all animals. You can choose to start out as a level 3 devoted to either Ulmo, Orome, Irmo, Varda, Yavanna, and Vana.
Cons: Druids can´t wear metal, or heavy, armor or metal shields.
Wild Shape: To activate Wild Shape you have to be a devoted to either Ulmo, Orome, Irmo, Varda, Yavanna, and Vana.  Wild Shape is where they can change form into a chosen animal, and when reaching level 3 they can choose another animal, two in all, and when reaching level 10 a third. Some of those Druids who have Wild Shape prefer the animal form more than the humanoid one and choose to spend most of their time in it, note that when reashing level 2 you can talk through your Wild Shape. - when in Wild Shape you are using the animal you take the form of strength.
Saving Throws: Against any kind of nature spell
Equipment:
A wooden shield or any simple weapon - example; dagger, spear, sling, etc
One simple melee weapon - example; scimitar, sickle, quarterstaff, etc
Leather armor
Explorer pack
Druidic Focus
Standard Array:
Strength; 10
Dexterity; 15
Constitution; 15
Intelligence; 12
Wisdom; 14
Charisma; 10
Sub-Classes:
Rott: There Druids find beauty in rott and know it is a necessary link in the circle of life. They are fascinated by mold and fungi. Instead of restoring life these Druids have the spell animate a corpse (at what compares to level 4 even at level 1), although they don´t have any healing spells. They can choose two other spells that aren´t associated with healing and their earthquake spell is a bit more powerful.
Dreams: Dream Druids are devoted to Irmo, they start out level 3 devoted, and have the spell sleep. They can create both good and bad dreams for anyone they wish, even powerful opponents, once per long rest. They have an extra bonus action when starting a battle and two times per short rest, they also have advantage on Charisma.
Dark: The Druids who take te path of the dark are either those who have lived before the sun and moon or bear a certain mistrust of them since Beleriand clearly had no problem surviving without them. They have advantage on Wisdom, and an extra bonus action.
Land: The Druids of land are mystics and sages who keep ancient knowledge and rituals safe through storytelling. They have advantage on Charisma and they get two bonus spells.
Stars: Star Druids need to be devoted to Varda like Dream Druids need to be devoted to Irmo, this also means that they start out level 3 devoted. This class, like the dark class, misses the days of Beleriand before the sun and moon where you could see the stars clearly no matter what. They can cast dancing light and light, and all creatures who prefer the darkness will have to roll for saving throws when they cast one of these spells to see if they get frightened. They have an extra bonus action when starting a battle two times per short rest, and advantage in Wisdom.
Shepherd: These Druids care for all living creatures, even those others might see as evil. Their main focus is caring for those animals and creatures who have difficulty defending themselves. They have bonus actions and can summon any kind of passive creature matching their own level within 50 feet to fight with them when in battle.
Most suitable Race: This race works best for Elvers, Humans, Peredhels, and Maiar, although all races can play it.
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doodle-pops · 1 year
Text
Types of Simps | The Ainur
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A/N: I have finally completed the entire series by writing for these lovely fellows. The others will just have to wait until I decide to post them :)
Types of Simps: Lords of Gondolin | House of Feanor | Imladris | House of Fingolfin
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The Valar
Manwë – the ‘gentleman’ simp
· So I like to believe that Manwë has Avian traits, thus whenever he’s around his crush, he tends to chirp and ruffle his feathers in hopes of gaining their attention. You know, puff his chest out a bit subconsciously and fluff his wings so you can compliment how pretty they are (he melts).
· Not one for openly dancing like tropical birds when attracting their mate, but if there’s an event and you’re around, Manwë would quietly ask if you would like to dance while shuffling his feet from side to side attempting to impress you with his moves.
· He’ll hum and murmur some words whenever you’re around as he sings before he openly completes the song and whistles to have your eyes on him.
· Like birds, he’s always gifting you shiny objects, and I don’t mean rocks or pebbles he found around the palace, but actual shiny gifts that caught his eyes and he begged Aulё to craft for you.
· He loves to bring up conversations about the sky just so you could talk about how you wish to fly among the clouds or touch them, only for Manwe to spread his wings and offer you a flight.
· Loves to take you on flights just so he can have you in his arms and feel you curl into his embrace. If you fear heights, even better for him, you’re practically clinging to him.
· Gets jealous whenever other birds are around you and are quick to shoo them away because they tend to gain your attention. You love to feed the doves and parrots and watch as Manwë grumbles about it being unfair. If you comment on it, he’d turn red and shut up.
· You can count on him to sometimes break his code of conduct and find him appearing on your balcony at ungodly hours of the night to whisk you away to some field of flowers or mountaintop to watch the sunrise and listen to him make some comment about how beautiful you are.
Námo - the ‘tsundere’ simp
· Listen, this man isn’t going to crack a laugh far least than a smile in your presence because he doesn’t want to make a fool out of himself. He smiles and chuckles internally, but he’s even fearful of doing so because he almost got caught once.
· His brother chastises him for expressing his emotions and nearly got banned from visiting him for years because Irmo teased the living daylight out of him when his voice once cracked when you spoke to him.
· As much as he refuses to openly admit his feelings, he doesn’t run you whenever you decide to visit him or speak, he simply stays quiet and listens with a slightly bored look on his face – even though he’s not actually bored but elated on the inside. Only Irmo can see that he’s smiling.
· The funny thing about it is that if you cried to him or showed any signs that you were hurt or sad, Námo just wants to know who, what, when, and where. Why isn’t important. Just leave the rest to him and he’ll see to it that you’re never bothered again.
· Námo has the tendency to stare at you whether you’re looking or not, he sort of just stares into your soul but in truth, he’s panicking because you caught him and the only thing left to do is continue staring.
· If you’re near him, he sometimes – most of the time – stares at your hands wishing he could be a bit braver and just hold them. Instead, he combusts and shuts down when you held his hand upon asking him to dance during an event. Irmo never lets it go.
· He’s the type to bite his tongue the first time he attempts to confess his feelings and then disappear right after he messed up because he’s planning to throw himself off Mandos. Námo believes that you think he’s weird, so he does his best to avoid you at all costs.
· He does have a strange way of speaking to you when he decides to. You have to squint to understand the hidden meanings behind every sentence because they sometimes come off mean. Irmo had given up on his brother at that stage and decided to shoot him with a love dart to speed the process along.
Irmo – the ‘sweetheart’ simp
· Yes, Lorien isn’t going to pass up the opportunity when presented to interact with you at any and all costs. He understands how he feels for you and is determined to make it clear in your eyes – no questioning his love for you, period.
· Lorien is only just a call away and he’s standing before you – literally, like a puff of smoke and he’s there. Always has a smile on his face and has an arm outstretched for you to take. Whenever he initiates physical contact, he prefers to let you make the first move.
· Stands close to you and charms you with poetry and compliments. They’re just as sweet as him and when he’s done, he flashes you this breathtaking smile to make you melt into a puddle.
· Sends you poems almost every day and when he can’t meet with you, he writes the longest apology letter the world has ever seen just because he couldn’t visit you one day out of the (25/8) entire week.
· Always has his eyes on you, not in a stalkerish manner, but adoring manner like, ‘that’s my lover, the love of my life, I’d do anything for them. I love them more than you do. They could do anything, and I’d still love them.’
· Loves to visit you in your dreams and creates only the best dreams for you and him to spend time together. He literally makes all your fantasies a reality in your dreams – strange.
· Lorien loves to sing for you, and he mostly does so whenever it’s just to two of you during private moments. You’re probably walking through his garden with him, and he couldn’t help but hum until he brings to sing – real smooth.
· Hates to see you sad and does everything in his power to make you happy even though he’s breaking the rules by interfering with your emotions. He knows it’s supposed to be a natural phenomenon, but he hates watching you wallow in sadness.
· His favourite thing to do is be as affectionate as possible before his brother just to show him what he should be like with his crush and how easy it is for him to make a move. You know the ‘this could be you, but you playing games.’
Melkor – the ‘seductive’ simp
· One word to describe him is S M O O T H. He’s really smooth with his actions, and if you’re not turned on or melting, everything is wrong with you.
· Always has a seductive compliment for you every time you meet. Sometimes, he doesn’t even wait on time to allow you to meet, he goes looking for you. Melkor would waltz right up to your smaller figure and corner you with one hand over your head, getting into your space and just silently staring with a smirk because he knows the effect of his presence.
· Brushes your hair out your face and then drags his fingers down you grip your chin and he forces you to look him in the eye. This man lives for EYE CONTACT and knows that you’re weak in your knees every time he stares into your soul.
· Loves to lick his lips whenever you’re speaking to him because he’s staring at how kissable yours look and he’s dying to lean in and have a taste. The most he’ll do is lean in to brush his lips against yours to leave you wanting more or kiss you just at the corner of your lips.
· His voice – holy fuck – his voice is finer than the sweetest wine and he uses that as his greatest weapon. Loves to whisper into your ear, while brushing his lips against the tip as he surprises you from behind.
· He normally waits for you to be the one to initiate the physical contact and when you do, for example, a hug, he pressed his entire body into yours so you could feel every ounce of muscle while chuckling and making some excuse about how you weren’t supposed to feel that. BOI.
· Listen, he’s seductive but he also has class, so black roses just for you accompanied by some onyx jewellery, because he thinks you look sexy in black.
· J E A L O U S Y to the highest degree. He wants to tear anyone, and everyone’s throat out who attempts to put their unworthy hands on you. On one but him gets that pleasure and opportunity. He has threatened to take someone’s hand off before.
· Melkor has this habit of sharing his wine with you from the bottle and not the glass. He’ll drink first, then cup you by your throat, tilting your head backwards and resting the head against your lips to pour the wine down your throat while whispering how good you’re doing. (I don’t even know how you haven’t choked and died from the contact because I would and combust). He wants to try kissing you and pouring the wine from his lips to yours, but he’s waiting till he has you officially.
The Maiar
Eonwë – the ‘enthusiastic’ simp
· At first, he doesn’t truly understand what’s happening and why he is feeling all these positive emotions surging through him, but then Manwë had to be a dad and explain to the poor birb that he is in love.
· Just like Manwë, Eonwë has Avian traits and does the whole singing and dancing fiasco to attract you to him. He’s a lot more open with expressing his feelings and is sort of like a love-sick bird.
· He’s always singing and pulling you in to dance with him. Humming some random tune and gently tugging you into his embrace, encasing his feathers around you both to shut out the rest of the world.
· Loves to take you on flights to give you tours or to look at the sunset or sunrise. More like a bird, he brings you little random trinkets he found while flying and hopes that you understand the hidden meaning and keep them – you do.
· He once saw a play with you and was amazed at the flowers falling from the sky which caused him to re-enact the scene. One morning you were in the gardens and Eonwë decided to fly up above and drop flowers upon your head – I want this to happen to me now.
· He loves when he has to clean his feathers, he’ll ask if you would like to assist him so you could spend the entire day grooming him. Eonwë simply sits and guides you on how to handle his feathers and leaves the rest to you because he’s in paradise when you touch his wings.
· Another jealous birb boy who hates when other birds get close, and you give them your attention. Before you met him, you had a dove you nursed back to health and it grew attached to you and saw you as its mate, was not the best thing for Eonwë to learn. He and the bird nearly had it out.
· Loves when you compliment him because he intentionally puffs up his feather and ruffles them to gain your attention and hope that you praise him. You call him your little songbird because he’s always whistling and singing around you because you’re his mate – got to impress.
· Always leaves behind a feather or more of his whenever he has to go away on trips so you could have a piece of him with you.
Mairon – the ‘tsundere and protective’ simp
· He’s the annoyed type of tsundere simp. One that constantly rolls his eyes at everything you do but is still overprotective. Contradicting in many ways isn’t it, I know.
· Quiet whenever you’re around and listen to everything you say, rolling his eyes in between or making some remark that comes off as him being disinteresting but it isn’t his intention. He doesn’t really talk much around you and opts to remain quiet, taking your voice and presence.
· Always H O V E R I N G. Always around – seems a tad bit stalkerish, but he wants to ensure you don’t do anything stupid because you’re clumsy. He’s always having to rush in to save you from some injury and then blow up about how it could have been worse. What a weird way to show you care Mairon.
· You could ask for help and he’s dropping whatever it is you’re doing with a scowl on his face and complaining about him having more important things to do while helping you. Newsflash, you simply asked for help and not him specifically.
· Subconsciously makes you gifts and leaves them on your doorstep or has them delivered to you with a mysterious note attached to it because he’s your secret admirer. How cliché and smooth.
· Always has a softer look – that still appears stern – on his face in your presence but the moment you leave him alone, he cracks, and a grin falls through. It spreads across his entire face and lights up his entire aura. He’d shake his head and give a small chuckle as he replays all your enthusiastic speeches from earlier making notes about all the things you like.
· Would never admit his feelings even though Eonwe probably has attempted to set up situations to get him to. The most that would happen is him staring you down with a blank look on his face while he’s screaming at himself to say something nice.
· J E A L O U S. He doesn’t like when someone breathes, look, talk, smile or glances in your direction. Even with Eonwe who attempts to help you understand your feelings, he gets absolutely jealous – like Hades from Hercules or maybe that’s Melkor.
· When he does get jealous, he attaches himself to your side the entire day and night wordlessly. He makes some comments about how ‘you’re not safe alone’ and shuts up after because he was about to admit the truth.
· Please, you once held his hand and he stiffened under your touch. It made you believe that he didn’t want you to touch him, but he was howling at the moon. Mairon spent a solid day and night staring at his hand. From then, he did everything he could to get you to touch his hand whether accidentally or not.
Bonus: I originally had Melkor as this
Melkor – the ‘denial/I don’t simp’ simp
· Boy, if everyone had a coin for the number of times Melkor admitted he doesn’t simp for you and then proceeds to simp, everyone would be rich because he contradicts his words to a fault before everyone's eyes.
· His brother would literally tell him that his crush is in the room, go talk to them and Melkor would make some dramatic statement about him not caring and then waltz over to his crush five minutes after to chat with them – bonus: he could never make proper eye contact.
· He denies every statement about him liking his crush which a huge blush on his stoic face and proceeds to make another statement about him not being a simp. It backfires because he’s always seen hovering around you hours later with some lost look in his eyes.
· You once spoke about your ideal type and the next day; he showed up acting and dressed like them. Tries his damn hardest to not make a fool out of himself but he fails. Melkor just believes that he’s tolerating you, nothing more, nothing less.
· The rest of the Valar and Maiar loves to tease him endlessly by making up rumours about seeing you with someone else just to make him blow a fuse and go back on his words about not being interested in you.
· When he does corner you, the first question you could ask him to shatter his brain is ‘do you like me or something?’ you can bet what his response was, let me give you a hint, ‘no – I simply tolerate your measly presence’ while fighting a smile.
· He’s almost like a tsundere but more expressive.
· His brother loves to tease him about how much of a softie you turn him into. Manwe once walked in and saw you putting flower crowns into his hair with the grumpiest look adorning his face. Melkor sat with you for hours without complaining because he enjoys your presence.
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Masterlist
Taglist: @edensrose @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @someoneinthestars @aconstructofamind @mysticmoomin @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @noldorinpainter @starborne0661
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bluezenzennie · 10 months
Text
"The heart of the forest grove"
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Pentadrabble
Pairing: Námo/GN!Reader Reader is one of Yavanna's maiar.
Themes: SFW, fluff.
Synopsis: Lately, you've noticed Námo crackling under stress with his duties laying heavy upon his shoulders. Despite his dismissals and denials for a break, you drag him with you to one of your lady's forest groves, to alleviate some of the stress.
Warnings: /
Characters mentioned: Yavanna, Manwë, Vairë, Irmo & Nienna
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"Little crow-" "Námo." You mutter under your breath, exasperation laced all over your tongue, tired of his occasional excuses of getting back to work. A deep sigh escapes your throat as you turn your head to stare stubbornly into his viridian eyes... Which, of course, return the same kind of determined stubbornness, tenfold. You speak up again: "I am tired of watching you wander aimlessly in your exhaustion. Your role as the doomsman is important, yes, but so is your health. Anyone else would tell you this Námo, everyone is trying to tell you this." The smallest grunt leaves him, it is not one of disagreement nor agreement, perhaps one from somewhere in between the both, you're not too sure.
You had been dragging Námo towards one of the forest groves that you, yourself, usually go to when you're in need of peace, for what seemed like hours to him. When in reality it had only been thirty minutes and no less, that was how tired he was, and it worried you, like it worried his maiar and the other valar.
You hated when he forgot to take care of himself. You knew that when he didn't even listen to Manwë, Vairë, or even Irmo and Nienna, matters had to be dealt with immediately, before the doomsman burned himself out, snuffing the flame burning the candlewick with his own hands. Usually, the five of you would have your own turns at getting him to cave in and rest, even if it was just for a little while, and it succeeded most of the time! But when nothing seemed to work with anyone this time, you had given him a scolding.
It was meant with all the love within your fëa, and it was a habit you had picked up from observing and experiencing the way your lady Yavanna would scold when she was worried for someone. It was a light scolding of course, but it was enough to get him to cave in and let you drag him out of his halls.
So there you were, now standing in the middle of your beloved forest grove, the grassy and mossy ground covered with snowdrops and lilies, rose bushes with the most beautiful pink roses decorating them, the leaves that held them vibrant green, some viridian hued, that matched his eyes perfectly. "Sit." You insisted, urging him down to join you on the mossy forest ground, by tugging at the long black sleeve of his robe. The sound of a thud against soft moss echoes throughout the grove for a moment, as Námo allows his tired legs to cave in, not because you told him to do so, of course... Well, maybe because of you too, just a little bit.
"Would you like me to braid your hair?" Your gentle voice sends tingles down his spine, the smallest tint of pink dusting his pale cheeks as you tug gently at one of his black tresses. "I... Alright, fine, why not." He inhales and exhales deeply, taking in the fresh air of the shaded forest grove, whilst watching the life around it. Perhaps, this wasn't that bad, perhaps, all he really did need was to get out for a little while.
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A/N: I need this man to sit down, drink some really good tea and eat some good sweets and let people take care of him. He needs a break.
Taglist: @edensrose
Want to get tagged for more like this? Here's my Tolkien taglist
Likes & reblogs are very appreciated <3
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cilil · 6 months
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If it was Irmo in the place Manwë with Fëanor’s child, how would that play out?
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𝓐𝓝 ~ Interesting premise once again, thanks for the ask! I apologize for taking a while to answer sometimes, I always want to make sure I give these some proper thought so I can hopefully keep it fresh and bring new ideas to the table and you lovely people can get something out of it ♡
𝓕𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ~ Once again gender-neutral pronouns for the darling and other details left unspecified, leaving it up to each reader's own imagination and preferences ♡
𝓣𝓦𝓼 ~ Yandere, obsessive behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of cheating
➺ Yandere!Irmo headcanons (general) ➺ Yandere!Manwë with Fëanorian!love interest
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𐀔 Simply put, Irmo would be simultaneously more subtle compared to Manwë, but also more present in the life and affairs of the one he chose as his darling and wished to pursue.
𐀔 Much like his sister's student Olórin - who is also one of his servants - Irmo has the ability to inspire and influence people by putting thoughts into their minds, without them even noticing that these thoughts were planted by someone else. Being a Fëantur, he can perform such magic with utmost proficiency.
𐀔 Once the darling caught his eye - maybe during a feast, maybe when they visited Lórien to rest and relax - they became the new target of many of Irmo's spells and antics, including influencing their thoughts and mood, messing with their dreams and sending gifts he tampered with, such as sweets and treats that were "refined" with special potions of his making, sweet and flowery fragrances and handmade dreamcatchers.
𐀔 Irmo also liked sending his little moth friends to spy on his, as he thought, soon-to-be lover and quickly found out about their affair, if he hadn't already via their dreams. Under normal circumstances Irmo wouldn't mind - he's usually neither jealous nor begrudges his loved ones their fun and freedom, being fairly promiscuous himself - but this time he found that he was dismayed by the prospect of sharing his darling. This time, he told himself, he wanted to be the only one.
𐀔 The darling would need Fëanor's keen insight and to close their mind to see through Irmo's various manipulations and avoid being plagued by visions and thoughts of love and longing. However, they might still be relatively defenseless in their dreams, and Irmo would take full advantage, showing them entire scenarios involving the two of them that felt so good and so real too. What made it even harder to spot his interference is that he always appears to be such a cute, colorful and harmless spirit, despite being a Vala, and his sleepy and airheaded behavior - which is, as a certain Fëanorian soon found out, but a facade for a much more devious and cunning spirit.
𐀔 When the Noldor left Valinor, Irmo kept sending dreams and visions to his darling, but those got progressively darker, showing what would happen if they continue their journey. Whether the scenarios he showed were his own invention or based on his brother's prophecies remained to be seen, but either way, his favorite Fëanorian would need a strong will and unbreakable spirit to shake off those terrors and keep marching.
𐀔 Like Manwë, Irmo now also counts on the Doom of the Noldor, and once it catches up to his darling, he'll beg Námo to let him have their fëa. Whereas Námo is fair and neutral, he loves his brother very much and has never been good at denying him what he wants. Additionally, Nienna may also be swayed by her brother's heartache and speak in favor of him, making it even harder for the unfortunate Fëanorian to stay away from the Vala who is so relentlessly pursuing them.
𐀔 To Irmo, it ultimately doesn't matter whether his darling is alive or dead, even less so than to other Valar, because of his nature as a master of spirits. He can always trap them in an endless dream that only he can enter, so they can finally be together.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot @wandererindreams
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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 7 months
Note
Hey hey~ coming in with a little trick request for your Halloween event!😈
I'd like to see some vampire!Manwë x Námo with prompt number 4 or 9 (your choice🧡). Dark content is welcome, also leaving that up to you.
Thank you! Looking forward to this!💜
Ooh! I have decided to go with number four for this. I also hope that you don’t mind that I took some liberty with the themes and the timeline.
"The choice"
Pairing: Vampire! Manwë x Námo (Calamórë)
Location and time: Halls of Mandos/19th Century England
Prompt : 4 - "Why won’t you let me turn you?”
Themes: Angst | Emotional | Loss
Warnings: Vampirism | Illness (Typhoid) | Death | Blood tears | Explicit language
Wordcount: 900+ words
Summary: Námo falls grievously ill. Manwë wishes to save him.
Minors DNI | You are responsible for the media you consume
A/n: this is for the @fellowshipofthefics October challenge. Two more slots are available for requests, but prompts 4 and 6 (for Vampire! Finrod) are out. The rules and prompts for requests can be read here.
Divider by @firefly-graphics
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Námo was so still, it was frightening.
He was gaunt, his warm, ivory skin now as white as chalk. He did not open his eyes. Not when his sister fussed with his pillows to make him more comfortable; not when his brother covered his face and wept; not when the physicians spoke to the family in hushed whispers. He was too weak to do anything but rest.
“It is too late,” one said.
“There is little that could be done now,” another said.
“Only a miracle could save him from the clutches of this wretched disease," a third said. “And these mere mortal hands have not been blessed by the divine. You must prepare yourselves. I am sorry.”
One by one, they left. One of the physicians helped Irmo out into a dimly lit corridor, and down the stairs to the parlor. Nienna dithered by the door. Tears continued to streak down her cheeks, but she did not sob. She had to be strong, for all their sakes. 
“You will be wanting to say your farewells, Mister Súlimo,” she said.
Manwë was startled. He had been standing by the hearth, staring into flames that fought to keep the autumn chill from drifting into the room.
“Yes.” He smoothed his jacket and straightened himself, his tone perfectly calm, perfectly neutral. His face was a mask of serenity. “My thanks.”
Nienna acknowledged him with a silent, courteous bow before leaving the room in a swirl of dark silks that rustled with each step she took.
A servant closed the door behind her. The moment the corridor outside grew silent, Manwë's mask of serene composure dropped beneath the crushing weight of unspeakable agony. He did not know how he placed one foot ahead of the other or how he even reached the wide bed. When he arrived at Námo’s side and took an all-too-cool hand into his own, he sank to his knees and sobbed, unable to rein in his pain.
One last time. Manwë prayed, though to which God, he did not know. If only I could speak with him one last time.
Námo finally stirred and opened his eyes. It is as if he received one final surge of vigor. “You...came. Even... even after we argued..."
It was soft, barely over a whisper. Námo shivered, and grew silent. Manwë lifted his eyes. They were wild with grief and filled with deep red tears. More tears left scarlet trails that stained his pale skin. 
“Not even those who hunt my kind could keep me away from you," he declared, and brushed his hand over spun silver hair. It was still soft, slipping around his fingers like silk. Manwë watched with a mournful expression. Soon, he would not be able to touch that hair. 
Námo fought to stay awake. He yearned to reach out and stroke Manwë’s cheek, to offer him some comfort. Alas, he could not. He could not even raise his arm a grain’s breadth above the bed. He only whispered, “Your tears. They… they must not…see.” 
Manwë no longer cared, but he acquiesced anyway. He took out a square piece of red silk from his pocket and dabbed his eyes, his cheeks. Crimson soon soaked into crimson, but at least no one could see even if they tried.
“Why won’t you let me turn you?” The words came out in a smothered sob. “I can save you, little raven. Why will you not let me?”
Ever since Námo fell ill and they learned the cause of it all, Manwë beseeched him to let him intervene. Let me help you, he pleaded. Let me make you into a being like me. Then no illness will claim you, and we can remain together, for good and always.
Námo had a ready reply, and every time Manwë asked, it was always the same. He wished to remain mortal. He did not yield to any other course of action besides heeding the counsel of the family physicians. Then they argued. Caught in sorrow's grip, Manwë uttered things he could never take back before he departed the manor. Only Nienna's made him put aside his confusion and despair and anger, and return. Manwë listened again, certain the answer would be the same as always.
“This… this is my choice,” Námo insisted between labored breaths. “I wish…to leave… this world… the way… I have lived it. As… as a mortal.”
Manwë wanted to argue. To rage. This should not be so, he wanted to say. It was not right. It was not fair.
Twelve months, he thinks. Many a century spent searching for my soul’s other half, and when I do find him, all that is given me is twelve fucking months.  
“Do not…be angry,” Námo pleaded. “Please.”
Manwë stops, hesitates. Heated words soon die in his throat. 
“I am sorry, little raven.” Manwë grasps his hand and brings it to his lips. It is icy now. He smothers another sob. "And forgive me, for what I said before. I offer no excuse for being so cruel."
“There is... nothing... to forgive. Perhaps,” Each breath is a battle now. And yet, Námo persists. “If… fate is… kind, we… we will meet again.”
“I will wait for you,” Manwë vows. “I love you.”
Námo closes his eyes. A strange, numbing sensation crept up his throat. He whispers three words. Three final words, and then he goes still, for good and always. Manwë leans down, and kisses him for the last time. He buries his tears and rises. The fire burns brighter now, warming the room. Manwë does not feel it. The world will never be warm for him again.
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tags: @edensrose @asianbutnotjapanese
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