#ilya boltagon

[effervescentdragon]

Do you have any hcs about eldritch Peredhil, considering they are part Maia?

hi friend! i think we talked about this a long time ago, and im pretty sure i had something written for you about luthien before my computer crashed the first time, but by valar i cant find it anywhere, i just looked for it.

this is a wonderful ask and imma put the stuff i have under the cut bcs this just inspired me and somehow crystallised some things for me and i tend to ramble a LOT! so thank you! <3

okay so i think our convos probably influenced me without me noticing it somehow, or it was just universe or my brain being weird or whatever. i have a hc that finrod and galadriel are very eldritch in like. half opposite directions. they are both terrifying and they both kinda. see and understand some things but only with hindsight. and it's not the sight, as one may argue cirdan has, but i think they just. know stuff and see stuff and cant make sense of it very much. so id say that celebrian maybe either carries the genes or is herself like that. actually pretty sure she herself is like that bcs in that elrond character study i did, i know that she knew she wasnt going to see arwen again, and she knew it, but elrond didnt.

and elrond himself, ive written him in that fic as seeing things, which i do believe now in hindsight was partially influenced by the way you wrote arwen. i think that the mix of maia and finwean blood in him gave him some powers, but he actively resisted them because they've always given him only heartache (with elros first, then erieinion, at least in my fics) so he chose not to look for what happens, preferring not to know and spare himself some heartache at least. i believe this also gives him grief a lot, because he is always torn between knowing and not knowing.

now i imagine, and im literally developing this as i type, that mixing these powers from nolofinwean, arafinwean, AND melian's sides in celebrian and elrond's children is. well. a lot. i havent given it that much thought if im honest, but im gonna do it now.

so. twins. i think the gift is, not dilluted in them as such. i just think they chose, when they were younger, to disregard it. i imagine them reading accounts of other twins in their family, or listening as erestor and glorfindel perhaps conversed about elrond and elros (in my hcs, erestor was echtleions half brother and went w earendil and then stayed w the twins when they were w maedhros and maglor) and about all they know about ambarussa and elured and elurin and just. decided together not to separate and decided to like. not defy fate but just. to choose eachother always and never allow fate to separate them? if that makes sense. and perhaps one of them can see further than the other, but they choose to supress it and to devote themselves to other endeavors that arent so. fated? like, they want to do stuff because they've put work into it, and not because something was given to them.

arwen, on the other hand. arwen i remember thinking about, grandchild of luthien, every bloodline possible converged in her in a way that's more fated than most tbh, which is a lot to say about a tolkien character. i think she.. hm. i think she knew she was going to walk the steps of luthien, and i think she never even contemplated another choice. i think this knowing came directly from within her, and i think she was aware of much more than anyone else. i also think she had help from irmo especially. now, im connecting the dots for my personal headcanons so bear with me.

i hc findis as having dreams she does not remember that are filled with knowledge. she wanders irmo's domain and he always sends her back without the knowledge she acquired, because it would be too much for her and she'd go insane. i think arwen is exactly like that too. i think they meet in lorien, and i think they get along really well, and i think findis may be the biggest support arwen has ever had. now, findis is feeling guilty about her own sister and how she judged lalwen for leaving with feanaro, whom she still cant stand, so she tries to be for arwen what she never got to be for lalwen. and i think they walk the fields of lorien and findis tells arwen evrrything she can think of and everything that bothers her, and arwen does the same, and yet they never really know it, nor do they know each other when they wake up. i think arwen is stalwarth in her beliefs and her decisions in part because of findis, because findis was always the one with her feet solidly on the ground, and arwen finds that reassurance comforting even without knowing where it comes from. so when she chooses a mortal life, none of the peredhel were ever as sure in that decision as she was, aside from luthien, who was objectively insane for bullying namo, but also so very valid.

hope this answers your question and if i think on anything else, imma add it! also, thank you for inspiring me to brainstorm! :)

#akira answers asks #silm meta #tolkien meta #this got long #arwen #elladan #elrohir #elrond #celebrian #findis #galadriel #finrod #the silmarillion #lotr #lotr meta #tolkien #effervescentdragonrants #ilya-boltagon

[goforth-ladymidnight]

It’s my very first ficversary! (Thanks to @ilya-boltagon​ for coming up with that term. It fits so well.) I’ve been writing for years, but this is the first work I ever shared with strangers. 

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year now. And what a year! I thought this story would be about 20 chapters long and I'd be done in October. Little did I know...

Here's to another year of writing fanfiction. My writing has improved significantly, I've met some lovely people along the way, and fandom drama aside, it's been a lot of fun. 😊

This year I might even get brave enough to share some fanart or have something commissioned. But time will tell. To my A03 followers, thanks for sticking around. You're the best. ❤️

#my fanfiction #acofae #acotar fanfiction #lucien x feyre #my favorite rarepair

[arofili]

For the prompts: 41 with kidnap dads?

(Also requested by @ilya-boltagon!)

41. Meeting the Family of Origin

Elrond wanted to plan for this. He wanted to have several days to spend with each of his parents, talking them through this meeting, reassuring them that it would be alright, that they weren’t monstrous or uncaring, that he had put just as much work into his relationship with that one parent as he did all the others, that he loved all of them. It would be tense, and he didn’t expect them to become one big happy family, even after all these long ages, but...he hoped it would be the beginning of some understanding. Some softening of hearts, some hope for the future.

Unfortunately, it seemed that was not going to be the case.

Maedhros’ return from the Halls of Mandos, last of all his brothers to be free in Aman, was a quiet affair. Well, as quiet an affair as it could be with six brothers, his mother, Huan, his husband and father-in-law, and lastly Elrond himself in attendance. But it was no grand event like Fingon had described his own release to be, and the celebrations were mostly kept to a minimum when Maedhros himself expressed a fervent desire to be alone with Fingon for a few days. Or years.

Elrond, who had wanted much the same thing when he had at last reunited with Celebrían, could hardly blame him. And even when Maedhros and Fingon were at last open to receiving visitors, he waited awhile to call on them.

But though the readjustment was slow—nearly as slow as Maglor’s reintroduction to society, in fact—it did at last happen. Except, just when Elrond was beginning to entertain the notion of reconciling his foster fathers with his birth parents (which would, hopefully, be made easier since Fingon had made every effort to befriend his great-nephew Eärendil), those two separate parts of his life crashed together unexpectedly.

Elrond and Celebrían were having Maedhros, Fingon, Maglor, and Maglor’s wife Ezellë over for dinner when a knock came at the door. Elladan, not knowing any better (or, not knowing how to turn his grandparents away), let the surprise visitors in—and Elrond’s heart sank as he watched the smile freeze on Eärendil’s face and morph into a scowl on Elwing’s.

“Please,” Elrond said, rising to his feet and ushering this third set of parents into his dining room before he could panic, “come in! You are more than welcome to join us.”

“Are they,” Maedhros said stiffly. Fingon grasped his arm. Maglor looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. Ezellë smiled winningly to Elwing, the only other elleth in the room (Celebrían had vanished with Elladan and Elrohir, her irritation prickling across their marriage bond, though Elrond knew she was more anxious than truly upset).

“We can come back another time,” Eärendil said, still smiling, though his eyes were cold.

“I insist,” Elrond insisted against his better judgement.

Celebrían reappeared, embracing her mother-in-law (whom she knew much better than Elrond did) and pulling up new chairs for the new guests. The frosty mood thawed a bit, and Elrond allowed himself to relax, just a little.

Too soon.

“So,” Fingon said, valiantly attempting to begin an amiable conversation, “who’s sailing Gil-Estel tonight?”

“I do get some nights off,” Eärendil said, pointedly not looking at Fingon’s board-stiff husband. “And more of them, these days, now that my son is returned to me.”

Maglor flinched at the word “returned.” Elrond did not blame him.

“More of them now that there are less elves in Middle-earth,” Elrond offered. “Not many Men recognize the star for what it is, anymore.”

There was an awkward silence.

Celebrían asked Ezellë to pass the bowl of cantaloupe, and offered some to Elwing. She accepted, glaring at Maglor all the while.

“So,” attempted Maedhros, staring into his half-eaten chicken. “Elrond. Has your brother written to you recently?” He grimaced, immediately realizing that was a bad question to ask.

“His brother?” Elwing snapped, turning her icy stare from Maglor to Maedhros. “The one who passed beyond Arda, without visiting his mother first?” Her eyes darted furiously between Maglor and Maedhros, as if Elros’ Choice had somehow been their fault.

“Ereinion sent me a letter a fortnight ago, before he went hunting with Uncle Tyelkormo,” Elrond said, trying and failing to get back to safer waters.

“Uncle...” Eärendil muttered.

“Ereinion is his brother through Russandol and I,” Fingon said lightly. “They were there for each other after...the rest of us were all...lost.”

“The herald position was mostly for formality,” Celebrían added.

Another silence. Then:

“Are we really going to do this?” demanded Elwing. “Sit here and pretend everything is fine, that we don’t all hate each other?”

“Naneth,” Elrond said weakly, but she ignored him.

“I don’t hate you,” Maglor mumbled.

“I do,” Maedhros growled, eyes sparking, and Elrond’s heart broke a little. “Certainly I will admit our wrongdoings at Sirion, but that was Ages ago, and Maglor and I have paid dearly for those crimes—but you have not, for abandoning your sons to us you view as ‘monsters’—”

The table erupted into chaos. Ezellë excused herself as everyone else argued, Elrond and Celebrían trying in vain to calm them down. Somehow Maedhros and Maglor turned on each other while Fingon pleaded for understanding with Eärendil and Elwing insulted everyone including her husband.

Elrond came near to tears trying to settle things between before it turned into a food fight or a Fifth Kinslaying, and he was about to call the whole disastrous dinner off when—

An ear-splitting horn blast caused everyone to jump and turn toward the noise. Ezellë lowered the trumpet, handing it back to Elrohir with a murmur of thanks, and she raised her eyebrows.

“I believe I am the eldest here, surpassing even Maitimo by a year, not counting the complications of rebirth which I was not subjected to,” she said smoothly, “which gives me every right to call the lot of you children.”

They all bowed their heads in shame.

“Not you, Elrond, Celebrían,” she added as an afterthought. “But the rest of you...please. This is like Fëanáro and Ñolofinwë at their...not their worst, but only because that was nearly as bad as the incident that started this whole feud.” She turned to Elrond. “Elerondo. Yonya. Let now the child scold his parents! I am sure you have much to say.”

He shook his head. “Well, yes and no. This is...not the family dinner with my many parents that I had hoped for, but I cannot say I am surprised.” He smiled with no small amount of resignation. “But I love you all, and I know you argue because you love me also.”

“I would say ‘from the mouths of babes,’ but you have been alive much longer than I,” Fingon said wryly. “I apologize, Elrond; we truly have been childish.”

You weren’t the problem, Elrond thought, but Fingon’s apology spurred Maedhros’, and by the end even Elwing sighed and admitted she shouldn’t have shouted— “Though I still think we should not ignore all that has passed.”

“Next time let’s plan an evening like this,” Celebrían said firmly as their guests filed out. “Because there will be a next time.”

“I look forward to it?” Eärendil said, a little nervously.

At last they were all gone, and Elrond sighed, letting himself lean into his wife’s arms.

“That could’ve been better,” he murmured.

Celebrían opened his mouth, but he kissed her before she could speak.

“It could have been a lot worse, too, I know,” Elrond added. “Thank you for taking this all in stride, melindë.”

She smiled into their kiss. “I knew things were complicated when I married you—and to be honest, meleth-nîn, I’ve been preparing for something like this since I recovered and met Elwing and Nerdanel.” She giggled. “At least my parents weren’t here, or the Second Kinslaying and the hair incident might’ve come up, not to mention—”

Elrond laughed. “Your mother is as intimidating as half my fathers combined,” he joked. “Just be grateful that you did not have to ask any of them for my hand!”

#silm #kidnap dads #kidnap fam #elrond #celebrian #maedhros #maglor #fingon #russingon #maglor's wife #oc ezelle #elwing #earendil #my fic #my writing #tefain nin #prompts #ask games #ilya boltagon #enter witty remark #answers #maglor's spouse

[annaquenta]

[Image description: A colored pencil drawing of Turin and Tuor from the Silmarillion. They are sitting back to back in a field of gold-orange flowers. Turin is a young human man with light brown skin, pale blue eyes, an ugly teenage mustache with chin stubble, and black shoulder-length hair that falls over one eye dramatically; he is wearing a dark green shirt, tan pants, and brown boots; he is throwing his hands up in the air and has a huge frown on his face, as if he’s complaining about something. Tuor is a human boy with pale skin, golden hair, and blue eyes; he is wearing a blue and gold shirt, brown pants, and black boots; he is crouching down with a smile as he picks flowers, mostly ignoring his cousin. End image description.]

August 12, 2020

At long last, some Turin and Tuor for @ilya-boltagon!! This is set in the same AU as my Russingon piece from last week, where the good guys won the Fifth Battle, and thus these two got to grow up together! Turin is 19 and a drama queen in any universe (he’s probably complaining about his crush on an elf that’s way out of his league), while Tuor is 11 and relentlessly cheerful :D

References: Turin’s position, Turin’s arms, Turin’s legs, interaction position, Tuor

#silmarillion #turin #turin turambar #tuor #children of hurin #tfog #the fall of gondolin #fall of gondolin #the children of hurin #ilya boltagon #annaquenta art #august 12 #2020 #colored pencil #tolkien drawings #fifth battle victory au

[adanedhel]

Do you believe that Dior Eluchil was mortal, and left Arda when he died, or that he got to choose, and became/remained immortal?

i believe he was mortal! he was born after luthien made the choice to become mortal, and we know from elros's line and from arwen's children that once the mortal choice is taken, its that way for their descendants as well.

his children were half-elven because his wife was an elf! so thats why later down the line, after having both half-elven parents elrond and elros were given the choice.

also wasn't he like 30 when he was killed? that would still be a child for an elf so he definitely matured at a mortal rate. i think he went where his parents went when he died.

#ask #ilya boltagon

[helion-ism]

Do you have any theories on how and when Helion and Lucien will find out they're father and son? I'd love to hear them!

hi 🥰

I basically only have one request for sjm regarding that reveal: that we will have lucien‘s pov when he finds out. I am angry that this secret has been kept from him for such a long time (and I know that the opinions differ even among us lucien stans) but now that it‘s been this way since acowar, I don‘t want the reveal to happen (for whatever reason) in acotar 5, which I assume is going to be azriel‘s/gwynriel‘s book. god I would hate that. I want lucien‘s perspective, I want the focus on him. I guess it would also be nice to get helion‘s perspective, but I‘m not counting on it.

my theory is primarily that something dangerous/awful/threatening happens that forces lucien to act in a way that suddenly reveals those powers he has and was never aware of (like when he managed to break free from the king of hybern‘s spell to get to elain) and that we will see some of that dominance that‘s hidden inside of him (like we saw in acosf when he managed to calm cassian down). I‘m not sure who exactly would realise where these powers come from, lucien or somebody else close to him? maybe feyre sits down with him? maybe helion himself has a ✨ realisation ✨?

I‘d love to hear other thoughts and theories as well 😁

#helion spell cleaver #lucien vanserra #acotar 6 #ask me anything #ilya-boltagon

[halfelven]

Since you wanted story requests, how about this Third Age AU somewhat inspired by Game of Thrones: Third Age begins with Sauron's death in Mordor. There is a rising threat to the North of the world, and Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn, Thranduil and Cirdan worked in tandem to build a wall sealing it off from the southern part of Middle-Earth. Whatever's out there in the icy region is kept at bay, and only they know what's going on. The Rangers are the watchers on the wall, reporting to Elrond since Rivendell is the closest place to it. No-one is permitted past the wall into the frozen North. It's into this world that Elrond's children, and Legolas and Tauriel, are born, and to them, the wall has 'always' been there. Do you think this is something you can make a fic from?

I haven't read Game of Thrones but I had such a good idea based on this prompt that I won't elaborate on because it's a plot twist ;)

#asks #writing prompts #ilya-boltagon

[thebonecarver]

🎶

ooo good choice! Here is your song rec my love!

https://open.spotify.com/track/0DMVrlMUn01M0IcpDbwgu7?si=c3d65a9ffe3844ef

#ilya-boltagon my beloved #asks #morphines 200 follower celebration

[ratabrasileira]

I don't suppose you'd like to write a longer Erizar fanfic? How they met, how they got together...?

Longers fics aren't my specialty... At least not in English, lmao. I started one of LoA x Helion, I wrote all the script, etc, but I couldn't finish it. It wasn't inspiring me anymore :((

But maybe I'll write something about those two, oneshots or something like that. They are indeed very interesting and I loved writing Soft & Silly Eris™ even as a 'crack'ship hihihi.

By the way, thank you anon who appresented me them as a ship!!

#ask #ilya-boltagon #erizar #eris #balthazar

[effervescentdragon]

For the 'first sentence of a fanfic' ask: Glorfindel simply could not believe this was happening: he had returned to Middle-Earth to guard the son of Earendil, Turgon's great-grandson and now he had to endure the presence of a *kinslayer* that his new Lord named 'father'?!

Hello! Thank you so much for this prompt - I had some fun with it, and I hope you like what I’ve written! I made some allusions to this fic of mine, because the concept of Glorfindel hating Feanorians while conveniently forgetting he used to be involved with one is a funny one to me. I really hope you like this, and thank you again for the prompt - it was awesome! :)

*** Glorfindel simply could not believe this was happening: he had returned to Middle-Earth to guard the son of Earendil, Turgon's great-grandson and now he had to endure the presence of a *kinslayer* that his new Lord named 'father'?!

Lord Elrond left the room with a final look at Glorfindel, its message of “behave yourself” clear, but its impact was lost on young Peredhel, for he did not know what Glorfindel knew - that when he raised his eyebrow in chastisement, the expression on his face was a mirror image of the look Glorfindel saw on High King Turgon’s face innumerable times in court meetings in Gondolin, when petitioners came with unreasonable demands, or the Lords squabbled amongst themselves about how best to reinforce the defences, and Glorfindel’s heart broke a little again for his long lost friend and King.

“He looks just like Turukáno when he does that,” he heard, and all his sorrow was forgotten with the wave of inexplicable rage that overtook him in that moment; he turned around and faced the other Elf in the room, a cursed shadow of times he long thought past, a reminder of all the failures and all the deaths he witnessed, with his face as beautiful as ever and his eyes concealing depths of misery and heartbreak that mirrored Glorfindel’s own, sincere in their devastation, and were hence unacceptable.

“Makalaurë Kanafinwë,” Glorfindel said, and his voice was trembling; “You above all do not get to mention Turukáno’s name,” he said, and his hands were shaking; “You are a plight and a curse on everything you touch, and I will not allow you to taint Turko’s great-grandson, like you did with everyone else,” he hissed, and his eyes were glowing; “Curse you and your thrice-damned Oath and your whole existence, Fëanárion,” he said, and the urge to reach beyond his skin into the new, almost Maia-like powers he was given and actually make his words a binding Oath was nearly overwhelming for Glorfindel in that moment, as he felt the power of the Words on the tip of his tongue, and he was unsure if he would be able to resist.

“Oh, Laurefindelë,” said Makalaurë, and Glorfindel was momentarily stunned with the power of his Voice, for he had forgotten that out of all the Finwëans, it was Findaráto and Kanafinwë that were most renowned in Song, “It serves us not to be hypocrites,” Maglor continued, and Glorfindel refused to lower his gaze at the clear challenge in Makalaurë’s eyes, “for as far as I remember, you were once extremely fond of a certain Fëanárion kinslayer,” he finished with a smile, and Glorfindel felt as is someone had plunged him back to the ice of Helcaraxë, and his whole body sagged, his power dwindling as he exhaled a breath he did not even know he was holding.

“I love my son,” Makalaurë continued, his voice no longer booming, as he walked past Glorfindel to the door, “I love him more than I thought it possible to love anything while under that thrice-damned Oath,” and Glorfindel hated that he could feel the sincerity in the words, “and I will not allow any harm to come to him. So I would advise you not to try to take from me the only good thing I have left in this world, Laurë,” he said mockingly, and Glorfindel felt the threat like a physical thing even as he refused to watch Makalaurë as he stepped through the door, “because you above all know what it means to provoke a Fëanárion,” Kanafinwë said and left the room, and Glorfindel just stood there, alone, for too long a time, thinking on all things wrong that he had already lived through, and all the painful things that he would yet have to witness.

#effervescentdragonwrites #akirakurosawa fanfiction #glorfindel #maglor #laurefindele #kanafinwe makalaure #5 sentence fic #ilya-boltagon #thank you for this #i had so much fun! #tolkien fanfiction #kidnap dads #found family #in a way

[sunmoonturtleduck]

For your character ask game: Ursa

Thanks for sending this!

Sexuality headcanon: Bi?

Favorite ship(s): the only two I'm aware of are Ursa/Ozai and Ursa/Iroh. Between the two, I'd definitely pick the latter, but I'm not crazy about either of them.

Brotp: I don't know if this counts, but I really want Ursa and Azula to reunite and make amends.

Notp: Ursa/Ozai 😬 mostly because Ozai is the Worst™️

Random headcanon: Ursa is an airbender! I explained my reasoning in this post.

General opinion: I think Ursa did the best she could given the circumstances, and I don't like how the fandom tends to blame all of Zuko and Azula's problems on her. However, it's really difficult to fairly judge a character based on a handful of appearances, and I wish we had gotten to learn more about her.

Send me a character!

#asks #ilya-boltagon

[cad-faoi-maeglin]

'Fire' for the ask game.

I..don’t have “fire”...? I currently have about 5 active WIPs, four of which centre around Mairon and one of which involves the Burning at Losgar coming up in an argument between Maedhros and Fingon and I somehow don’t have the word “fire” mentioned once??? That’s actually a little impressive XDHere, have this line that references the burning as a sort of compensation XD

“I tried to stop the Burning. Finno, I thought of you everyday I hung off that cliff. Every. Single. Day.”

#ask games #fanfiction #no fire though? #yeah i won't be posting that piece anyway #i was just in need of the angst one day #ilya-boltagon #oh i just remembered that i have another fic too! #but it also does not contain the word fire :(

[arofili]

I know you said you didn't want Silm prompts, but this one isn't strictly Silm: 34, Elrond and Elros.

(I am happy to still take Silm prompts! I just don’t want to scare off any other fandoms, lol. Anyway: this is to make up for the angsty kidnap dads fic I just posted! Have some peredhil twin fluff!)

~

34. “I might never get another chance to say this,” Elros said, his eyes wide and full of mock sincerity, “but...I did eat your half of our birthday cake when we were twelve.”

Elrond smacked his brother lightly on the shoulder. “Stop being so melodramatic!” he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “You act as if this is the last time we shall ever see each other!”

“But it may be,” Elros argued, a twinkle in his eye. “Every time you visit, it may be! Who knows when my youth will dry up? Not I! Here I am, king of Númenórë for two hundred years already—I feel young and hale, just like you, although I must say that my beard is quite handsomer than whatever that thing on your face is supposed to be—”

Elrond shoved him harder this time. “Don’t insult my elvish blood,” he teased. “I’m still not sure how our choices affect our facial hair growth, but truly if you think this wispy thing is anything more than something one of your mortal women could grow—”

“I’ll tell my wife you said that!” Elros hummed, wagging his finger.

“Please do!” Elrond smirked. “She’ll agree with me. You know she likes me better, she only married you because of the mortality business.”

“And because you’re the most boring man alive!”

“Elf, dear brother, and you’ll not forget it!” Elrond leaned over to kiss his kingly brother right on his bristly cheek. “I’ll miss you,” he said fondly.

“And I you.” Elros smiled. “Maybe next time I can take the children to visit you and Gil-galad?”

Elrond’s face lit up. “Yes! Lindon is splendid in the summertime, you’ll love the trees, and the beach reminds me of Sirion—”

“My lord Elrond!” someone called. “We are ready to depart!”

“I must go,” Elrond apologized. “Duty calls.”

Elros sighed, glancing back up the dock to where his own retinue waited. “I understand. Farewell, Elrond.”

“Oh, and Elros?” Elrond asked, just as he was turning to leave.

“What?”

“I might never get another chance to say this...Maedhros and Maglor never mentioned it, we were too young, and honestly I think you would’ve chosen differently if you’d known—”

“Spit it out,” Elros drawled.

“—it’s just, frankly, you’re missing out on all the orgies we elves have at Midsummer!”

“Elrond!” Elros shrieked after him, but his twin skipped away laughing, and Elros couldn’t help but grin.

#silmarillion #elrond #elros #silmfic #my writing #my fic #tefain nin #ask games #silm #thank you! :) #ilya boltagon #answers #love grew after between them

[sauron-in-lockdown]

If I understand correctly, Orcs were created from corrupted Elves, am I right? So technically Elven genetics are still within modern-day Orcs. I am wondering what you would do if an Orc pairing produced an Elven offspring through long-recessive DNA?

. . .

I had never considered such an outcome, I must admit!

If that were to happen, though... that elf would be the offspring of my orcs, would be raised by my orcs, and would in effect be one of my orcs. So long as the elven child is loyal, there would be no issue there!

#answered correspondence #ilya-boltagon

[adanedhel]

Re 'im kind of having A Day, if anyone would want to send me asks or prompts of any kind i'd love something to keep me busy.' How about a (possible) AU scene during Turin's childhood in Doriath where he meets/befriends Dior? Turin's only six years older so it's possible they knew one another...

thank you for the prompt! this came out a little longer than i intended but i hope you like it <3

Up until now, Túrin had not met another child since he left home. In fact, he had not seen another human being in that time. His foster parents brought him along on one of their rare trips outside the Girdle, outside of Doriath itself. He was not sure how far away they actually were, only that they were definitely farther than it seemed. Melian’s strange magic seemed to bend the world around them as they traveled.

Túrin had also had no idea where they were going, only that the Queen had insisted he come along for some reason.

“It will be good for them both.” She’d said, but Túrin had no idea who they were.

Not until they came to the little cabin, in a woods that felt almost as dark and thick as Doriath. Thingol and Melian’s guard left them and formed a barrier between the tiny home and everything outside, while Thingol held Túrin by the hand, bringing him inside.

Somehow, without being told, he knew exactly who he was looking at when a cheerful older man greeted them at the door. Beren. They had never met, but Túrin knew plenty about him. He’d heard the story from his parents, (with more or less embellishments depending on who told it) about him winning the love of an elf-woman. His father had spoken about Beren’s quest with awe and no small amount of reverence. It was the very inspiration behind the battle his father had been lost in.

His mother spoke of him with no such praise, though with no amount of bitterness. She called him both brave and a fool in equal measure, and though she did not blame him in any way for the loss of her husband, she did seem to have some kind of disapproval.

Beren kneeled before him, and put a hand on Túrin’s shoulder, “So,” He said, “Here is my little kinsman. Túrin, is that right?”

Túrin said nothing, but Thingol answered, “Túrin is right. He has been in my charge now for three years. We thought it might be good for him to meet some of his own, and for yours as well.”

As he spoke, out from a room came a tall woman, with a child on her hip. The woman looked a great deal like Melian, and Túrin knew her to be Luthien. The child, about half Túrin’s age, had his father’s bronze skin, and his grandfather’s silver hair.

Luthien greeted her parents, and they greeted her, and the child, in turn, the adults talking amongst themselves for a few moments before he was set before Túrin, and introduced as “Dior.”

Túrin and Dior were let outside to play, though Túrin mostly followed behind little Dior, watching him as he played alone.

“Are you my uncle, or my cousin?” Dior asked idly while he began to weave his plucked wildflowers into a chain.

“Cousin, I suppose.” Replied Túrin, sitting down next to him.

Dior scrunched his face up, and paused his hands, “But you’re my grandfather’s son, aren’t you?”

“Foster-son,” Túrin said quickly, and flushed, “He is not my father. My father is… away.”

Dior frowned, but continued weaving his chain, “But he loves you like one.”

“I cannot speak for him.” Túrin shrugged, and reached across to help Dior fix a missed loop, “He is kind to me, and so is Queen Melian, but I doubt they see me as anything more than a stray human child.”

“I am a human child, and they love me,” Dior shrugged now, and was quiet until he finished his chain, typing it into a closed loop. He stood, and placed the wreath over Túrin’s head like a crown, smiling.

The gesture reminded him so much of when he would do the same for his younger sister. He had tried to teach her how to weave for herself, but at the age of 3 her motor skills just weren’t refined enough to tie knots. She loved the crowns though, and he wove her a new one nearly every day, golden flowers looking dull compared to the shine of her hair.

“Are you sad?” Dior’s little voice pulled Túrin out of his sullen thoughts, “I would be sad if my father was away… Is your mother away too?” Dior sat down again, and started weaving a second flower chain.

“She is,” Túrin nodded, and reached up to feel the wreath around his head, “I… I am sad, sometimes.”

“Well, I am sad when grandmother and grandfather are away, but I see them again, eventually,” He smiled when Túrin reached across to help him fix a loop again, “You will surely see her again.”

Túrin felt at peace in a way he hadn’t since he left his mother’s side. He found a sense of hope in himself, that he would see her again. And he found a comfort, too, beside Dior. Like an emptiness in him was filled, at least for now.

#dior #ilya-boltagon #ask #Túrin #fic

[moononastring]

Spirit Meets the Bones [ Bonus ]

Find it all here. Genre: Angst/Romance 

Author’s Note: I wrote this bonus scene ages ago and it never felt right to post until I played around with it some more. This would take place around the actions of chapter 12, when Eris x Iris have started to get to know each other and spend more time together.

Feedback is always welcome and very encouraging :) I love knowing what you think so thank you for reading! ENJOY and thank you for being so patient as I try to get back into the groove of writing <3

Tagging those who I have tagged before: @danaanruhn | @foxybananaaaz | @simoneashly | @helion-ism | @ruhncervos | @illyrianvalkyrie | @arielle-reads | @gwyns | @highladyofdawn | @ae-lingalathynius | @gingerwritess | @live-the-fangirl-life | @positivewitch | @readthelastpaage | @highladyoftheday | @tealnymph24 | @thewilderheart | @deez-thrillerkiller16 | @rarephloxes | @ladyelain | @rainbowcheetah512 | @rainbowsnowflake | @bookologist | @gwynberdara | @sheisnotwriting | @sophilightwood | @yourlocalbookwhore | @applestrudeldoo | @story-scribbler | @pascale-the-bard | @cinnamon-mentos | @cynicalpotato95 | @ellieofthewoods | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @loveywxxb | @acourtofbooksandfantasy | @sea-hag-dominion | @halaberdara | @ifinallygavein | @readingwithshelley | @a-court-of-illyrian-wingspans | @weesablackbeak | @spinachtz | @kingandfireheart | @runningwiththeoceans | @rityrooroo | @ilya-boltagon | @electromagnetic-waves

Eris cleared his throat and breathed deeply before plastering a smirk on his face and knocking on his little brother’s front door.

It took a moment before Lucien opened the door with a blink and then quirked his brow.

“Eris.”

“Lucien.”

“To what do I owe this great pleasure, brother of mine?” Lucien asked as he stepped aside and gestured for Eris to step in.

“As much as I adore seeing your adorable little face, I’m actually here for your wife.” Eris said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Elain?!”

Lucien closed the door behind them with an eye roll and followed his brother. “She’s in the garden out back,” he replied dryly. “What do you need from her? Having more wife troubles?”

Eris paused, causing Lucien to knock into him, and turned to glare at his little brother. “I don’t have wife troubles. I would simply like to see my little sister and discuss with her how she’s doing.”

“And ask her about your wife troubles.”

Eris’s glare intensified. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Lucien only smiled. “Pillow barricade still there?”

“The thing you speak of, doesn’t exist.”

“Ah, that means it’s still there,” Lucien said, nodding knowingly. “She’s not wooed by your endless charms?”

“She is wooed just fine.” Eris mumbled, scowling. “Mind your business. You’ve barely been mated. Need I remind you of your pining, little brother?”

“Need I remind you that it was mutual and how we’ve been happily mated and married for two years already, big brother?” Lucien replied with an easy smile. “Just admit you’re a terrible husband with no game and I’ll be more than happy to help you.”

“I don’t need your help, you fool.” Eris said with a light shove. “Your mate is the smarter one of you both so if, and this is a big if, I needed assistance with the so-called wife troubles, which I do not have, I would ask Elain.”

Lucien’s mouth slowly turned into a smirk then he snorted. “Wow, you must be really terrible in bed.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. “It took you two years to get your mate to even talk to you but now you have the nerve to talk about my bedroom skills.”

“You keep deflecting, big brother,” Lucien said with a sigh. “As if you don’t know the exact circumstances of my mate and I. You, on the other hand, must truly be terrible in the bedroom and outside of it for your wife troubles to be this severe. Your visits have increased, I see.”

Eris scoffed. “So? I can’t visit unless I need something? Do you want me to stop visiting?”

“Couldn’t stop you even if I tried.” Lucien said with a laugh. “But we both know you don’t miss me as much as you miss Elain — which I don’t appreciate.”

“Jealous of your wife because I like her more than I like you, brother dear?” Eris said with a sarcastic smile.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t see why she has to constantly deal with your whining. Go whine to your own wife.”

Eris’s smile immediately turned into a scowl as the tip of his ears heated. “Leave my wife out of this.”

“And you wonder why my immediate assessment is how terrible you must be in the sack.” Lucien said with a snort then held up a hand before Eris could reply and asked him with his most serious expression, “You…do know where the clitoris is, right?”

A heartbeat passed and Eris did the only logical thing he could think to do — swing his fist at Lucien’s face.

Lucien ducked with a laugh. “Are you truly swinging at me in my own home?”

“I will break your nose if you say anything else that’s stupid.” Eris seethed.

“You sure your hand will handle giving me a punch? It must be so hard on you after all your alone time. I’m surprised your hand isn’t constantly cramping.”

“I’m sure you’re very familiar with what a cramping hand and limp dick must be like since you had to deal with it for so long.”

Lucien grinned. “I never said anything about a limp dick but now you’re really pulling my sympathies, Eris. Your situation is far worse than I had predicted.” he said and with a most sincere expression, Lucien put a hand over his heart and added, “I’m so sorry for your condition, brother. I’m sure a healer can help.”

Eris snarled and before Lucien could stop him, pulled him in a headlock that quickly turned into Lucien ramming his fist into Eris’s side which would have turned into a downright brawl had light footsteps not entered the room and a throat cleared.

Eris and Lucien both froze, their limbs intertwined as they turned their heads to find Elain standing with hands on her hips and a raised brow.

“Really?” was all she asked then gestured with her hand, exasperated. “Untangle yourselves. Now.”

Shooting each other a glare, the two brothers shoved away from each other.

“Ugly git.”

“Slimy asshole.”

“Rude behavior.” Elain added and held out her hands. “Every time? Every single time?”

“Your husband is veryrude.”

“He was being mean to me!”

Elain rolled her eyes. “You’re both mean to each other. I thought we talked about this, hm? Got past it?”

“He talked about my wife!”

“Lucien!” Elain scolded.

“He made fun of our two years of pining!”

“Eris!”

“You walked right into that one, Lucien.”

“You’re the one that started talking about limp dicks, Eris.”

Elain blinked then glanced up towards the ceiling. “Grant me patience, gods,” she mumbled. “Lucien, weren’t you in the middle of something?”

“Yes, I was, my love. I just wanted to give my big brother a warm welcome,” he said with a grin that Eris responded to with a glare. “Make yourself right at home, limp dick. I can’t wait to give Iris my sympathies in person soon.”

“Oh fuck you.” Eris replied and glared at Lucien’s back as he leaned down to kiss Elain then waltzed out of the room, his middle finger waving goodbye from the air.

“Why are you married to him again?” Eris mumbled as Elain gave him a knowing look and walked over to him.

“Because he has great hair.” she replied with a smile and promptly wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

“Great hair doesn’t make up for how annoying he is.” Eris replied even as a small smile found its way to his lips as he hugged his little sister in return, squeezing her tight. “How are you, little acorn?”

“Is everyone little to you?” she said with a laugh and pulled away to look at him. “Little acorn, little Lucien, little gazelle?”

At the knowing look Elain gave him, Eris’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “I...am having a hard time.”

Elain blinked innocently. “A hard time? I thought it was the opposite problem you were having?”

Eris scowled immediately and Elain giggled. “Your mate is a terrible influence.”

“We both know who the real terrible influence is.” she said with a grin then tugged on his elbow. “Come on back to the garden so we can discuss in private.”

“You say private when Lucien clearly knows too much already.” Eris mumbled and let Elain drag him outside. “You said you wouldn’t tell him anything.”

“To be fair, I don’t have to tell him. He’s picked up on it and despite the aggressively childish behavior between you two, he cares a lot about you.” she said with a chuckle. “He likes to check in and make sure you’re okay.”

“Or just make fun of me.” Eris grumbled. “He listens in from some open window, doesn’t he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Elain said brightly and gestured for him to take a seat by the garden.

Eris sulked for a moment, watching as Elain slipped her gloves back on. He pursed his lips and debated saying anything. It wasn’t like anything major had happened. But…

“So.” Elain began carefully, eyeing him. “Did you find out what her favorite flowers are?”

“Carnations. She likes them all but red ones are her favorite.”

Elain blinked then gave him a sly smile. “Do you know what red carnations symbolize?”

“It’s the color of my blood soaking the pillow when she slits my throat.” He deadpanned and Elain shot him a withering look.

“Could you not?”

Eris gave a long-suffering sigh. “What does it mean, Elain?” he asked dully, and Elain chuckled, throwing a weed at him.

“Love.” she sang. “And affection.”

Eris blinked then snorted. “That does not apply here.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my wife.”

“You’re barely getting to know your wife.”

“But I still know her more than you do at the moment.”

“Sure, but do you know her heart?” she said and batted her eyelashes with a wide smile that immediately had Eris snorting.

“It’s as cold as mine.”

“Well, someone drank his dramatic juice this morning.” she said with an eye roll and Eris scowled. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” he said rather defensively. “I just…”

Elain paused her digging to raise a brow.

“I don’t… like feelings.”

Elain laughed. “No. I would’ve never noticed.”

“Elain.” he said through gritted teeth, crushing the weed in his hand.

“Eris.” his sister-in-law replied with a sweet smile, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“If you make fun of me, I won’t share things with you.”

“I can call Lucien and have you share things with him instead if you’d like.”

“I would much rather die, thank you very much.”

Elain laughed again and Eris’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

“You know, feelings area part of relationships. A big part, actually.”

Eris sighed. “I know. I still don’t like them.”

“So how are you sharing your interest if you don’t like having or sharing feelings?”

“I’m mostly irresistibly annoying.” he said with his best charming smile and Elain snorted. “Though she is very mean to me in return.”

Elain rolled her eyes and threw another weed at him. “So, you two had your big talk. You’re spending more time together. You seem to be flirting up a storm. What’s the issue?”

Eris pursed his lips and twirled the stem in his hands. It took him a moment before he finally answered. “I…am not sure,” he said. “I am nervous. This makes me nervous. She makes me nervous.”

His sister-in-law only chuckled softly, her hands busy in the dirt though her eyes flickered back up to him. “Is it because it’s going well? You’re not used to it, and it makes you skittish?”

“Used to what, exactly?”

“Someone spending time with you without some scheme or ulterior motive involved.” she replied with an eyeroll. “You’re not used to spending time with people who aren’t doing the same.”

Eris’s face heated and he ran his tongue across his teeth. “Well, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

“Why don’t you throw her over your shoulder and show her how you're really feeling?” Elain said with a sly grin and Erin’s brows shot up.

“Elain, so scandalous of you to suggest such a thing.”

“Every wife likes to be swept off her feet.” she said firmly and gave him a superior look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been kissing your wife without some kind of grand sweeping gesture?”

Eris pursed his lips again and looked away, eyes focused on the dirt to hide his expression. Sure, he shared some things, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to say anything about the nonexistent physical relationship he had with his wife.

He craved a kiss. Eris was dying to know the feel of her lips on his. But he wouldn’t push. Not this. He would work at her pace even if he killed him.

Even if he jerked himself to death. Which seemed very likely at the moment.

“It’s not like that between us.” he said quietly and finally gazed back at his sister-in-law who was giving him a small knowing smile. “She’s not comfortable enough yet so we have been taking it very slow.”

“And is that what’s making you nervous? Taking it slow when you’re used to running through everything?”

Eris shrugged. She was getting too good at reading him, almost as good as his own mother, and Eris wasn’t sure he was supposed to like that feeling so much.

Elain straightened and slipped her gloves off before sliding next to him and tapping his hand.

“You know, I’ve always thought you had more to you than meets the eye.” she began softly. “And getting to know you better, watching you build a stronger relationship with Lucien…as much as you like to pretend otherwise, you have a big ‘old softy hiding in here that’s trying to come out.” she said and tapped his chest, right over his heart.

Eris promptly wanted to assassinate himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he mumbled, scowling immediately and Elain rolled her eyes.

“I think Iris is the person you need to share that with the most and I think it makes you nervous that you desperately want to.”

Eris scoffed and looked away, his scowl deepening as the tips of ears reddened. “I don’t desperately want to.”

“Gods Eris, you’re sodesperate you positively reek of it.” Elain said with a laugh and Eris turned to glare. “I think it’s hilarious and oh so wonderful. Besides —“ she paused to give him a stern look. “I may not know Iris just yet, but I do know flowers and their language. When someone has a favorite flower in a specific color, it’s usually because they are drawn to those things.”

Eris felt his face twitch. He wouldn’t read into it. They were just flowers.

“Why am I even listening to you? You married Lucien. Your judgment is clearly skewed.” he said with a childish pout and Elain immediately shoved him with her elbow.

“Don’t talk about my love like he's anything but perfect.”

“He’s my brother and he’s very ugly.”

“It must be so hard for you to deal with Lucien being so much more attractive than you are.” Elain said with a sweet smile that was anything but sweet. “How terrible it must be for you to be living in his shadow constantly.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes and used his hand to push her face away, earning him a yelp of protest. “No one is more attractive than I am but since you’re delusional, I’ll allow you this error in judgment.”

“I bet Iris thinks you’re very attractive, doesn’t she?”

“When she’s not too busy trying to stab me during our training sessions, she finds me downright delicious.” he said with a smug smile and Elain laughed again, shoving him.

“You’re so full of yourself, no wonder you’re too nervous to be nice around her. How will you function without all that ego?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“But, of course.” she said then shook her head with a sigh, standing. “Come on you lovesick fool, let’s make you a nice bouquet so you can take it with you to impress your wife.”

“I am not a lovesick fool.” he immediately protested. “I barely even like her.”

“Oh really? Who is the delusional one now?” she said with a knowing look and Eris scowled as she tugged him along with her. “The flowers are a good step towards showing your feelings. You can keep it up from there.”

He scowled further. “But that still makes me nervous.”

“It’s good you're nervous. It means you care.”

“Of course I care.” he replied faster than he could stop himself. “She’s my wife.”

Elain smiled at him warmly and patted his arm. “Then I think a lovely bouquet of red carnations will be just the thing to show it. We wouldn’t want you to lay it on too thick now, would we?”

Eris gave her a small reluctant smile. “No, we can’t have that.”

And so, he followed her through her garden silently, watching as Elain mindfully picked out her best carnations. He knew Iris would like it and tried to clamp down on the smile attempting to escape him just thinking about her face lighting up when he handed it to her. She seemed to enjoy that he had flowers delivered on a regular basis now but hadn't given her one directly yet. It should be perfect.

As Elain picked out another flower, Eris softly added, “She likes peonies too. I think the pink ones would look good with the red carnations.”

Elain paused and turned back to him with a grin. “Oh? And do you know what those symbolize?”

Eris rolled his eyes with another small smile. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”

She laughed then elbowed him gently. “They symbolize happy marriage, good luck and prosperity.”

Eris blinked and squinted at Elain’s too knowing of a smile. Running his tongue over his teeth, he waved a hand, his cheeks heating slightly as he looked away from her and said all too quietly, “Throw in more of those. I’ll take all the luck I can get.”

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fanfics #elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #eris x iris #spirit meets the bones #smtb #This is Eris being emotionally constipated per usual lmao #Being an idiot with his brother #being a big baby with Elain lmao #I hope you guys enjoy it!!!