#Modern silmarillion

[sakasakiii]

not really a modern au but more like a weird future timeline thing where beach hermit maglor Hibernates™ all through the 2nd and 3rd ages & misses the last boats to Valinor.... thus resulting in him skulking about history until he ends up living among modern day humans haha?? the kicker is that he one day finds an abandoned baby thats all-too-suspiciously like a certain dead brother and becomes a single dad-younger brother-adopted guardian person...

i wrote a few pages of this back in 2022 but never really thought abt it further after i started posting less frequently hahaha.... heres just some feel good domestic sketches of this AU bc i miss drawing modern clothes 🤭 i have sooo many thoughts about it that i couldnt fit into these doodles !! its quite a lot of yapping so feel free to skip past the cut haha

assorted au thoughts:

i planned for maglor to eventually find all 6 of his brothers one by one through the power of Accidental Child Acquisition ✨ example: he'd spot a kid lurking around some woods near his home and eventually realise said wild child living amongst stray dogs is a bit too similar to celegorm

i just couldnt fit in the time to draw that this round... maybe next time!

though he's raising reincarnated-Maedhros, i think it makes more sense for him to give him a modern name and not explicitly call him Nelyo/Maitimo/Russandol just bc he'd not want to get his own hopes up or shove said identity onto the kid

(the occasional 'hey Nelyo' does slip out by accident from time to time however)

i think as Mae-the-kid grows up he will in time start to remember bits and pieces of his original identity? with the nicer familial things (like valinor, his brothers, feanor and nerdanel) first, and then the darker things (kinslayings, angband, war) once he's grown up that Maglor will struggle explaining or even helping him through

i promise this is a wholesome au 😭

side characters include a high-strung but good guy policeman named Officer Borden who's very suspicious of Maglor bc of all the random kids he keeps adopting.... and his younger brother Farren, who happens to be Maglor's scholarly coworker

as well as Maglor's next door neighbour Morgan, a witch-woman married to some guy named Hugh... she's got 3 kids who visit from time to time but from what Maglor's heard, the oldest son is followed by misfortune and has supposedly never met his youngest sister...?

credit to Ted Nasmith and Cartoon Network for some assets used in the doodles :D

[essenceofarda]

I love your art! Your style is lovely. :D Hmm, how about Fingon for the modern fashion studies? I bet he'd look fabulous in anything, but I'm curious to see what you think he'd wear!

Thank you for the request!! Here's modern Fingon, the cute dork, :D

🥰

[formenos]

had a silmarillion au idea in which it’s a modern universe, far in the future and Maglor has settled very well back into society as it is, and Maedhros reappears one day, with zero idea why or where and when he is

[animatorweirdo]

The twin

(A little something special for the early spooky season. This was pretty much inspired by the movie Malignant, but I hope you enjoy.) 

Warnings: horror themed, mentions of sleepwalking, nightmares, bleeding, toxic relationship and murders. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat down on the floor, looking into the mirror you had set in front of you. You could see in the mirror another mirror you had set behind you. You had a tiny flashlight beside you and a recorder. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the lights from the window and the flashlight beside you. It was eerily silent as well. You looked into the mirror, looking if anything had changed. Nothing so far, but you knew something will. 

You took the recorder, taking a deep breath before pushing the play button. 

"I –" You started, your voice quivering from hesitation. 

"My name is (Name) (Last name), and I'm – doing a recording to help me cope with things that had happened to me these past days," You spoke. 

"Something bad has happened. I'm not sure how or why, so I should probably start from the beginning," You sighed. 

"I think it happened since my birth. I had a normal childhood, or so I thought. I do remember those times when there was a strange pain in the back of my head. I heard voices and saw strange dreams," 

"The dreams were about these creatures. Horrid, mangled, and violent creatures. There were dragons and this fortress, and there were people in the light," 

"I then remember three jewels that shone in the dark," You said, remembering three beautiful jewels in your dream. They shone with mysterious and almost hypnotic light, but there was also something malicious about them. When you saw them, you also heard screaming and red. 

"I never knew what they meant, but now that I think about it. They might have been memories of some sort, his memories,"

"I stopped having them, so I didn't think about them as much," 

"One day, I was going through old stuff in the attic. I discovered the name, Michael," 

"I have never heard of him before, but when I found more things with his name. I asked my mother about him, and she told me he was my brother," You looked at the back of your head in the mirror. 

"My —twin brother," You almost whispered. 

"I asked more about him, like where was he and what happened? Why do I have no recollection of him?" 

"My mother said he passed away during birth and refused to talk more about him," 

"She looked sad and pained about it, so I stopped asking," 

"I did imagine I could hear him in my dreams and see shadows of him, and like a child, he was technically my version of an imaginary friend," 

"And like all the other children, I grew up from that phase and forgot about him," 

"He had been dead my whole life, so I had no reason to think about him. He was the unfortunate one to die while I lived. It was sad, but life moved on," You stopped to take a deep breath. 

"I didn't think the truth would be much darker until I had hit my head and bled," 

You stopped to look when you noticed the wind drafting the drapes in the window. You soon focused back on the mirror. 

"I was in a toxic relationship. I was trying to leave while we fought about it and when my ex-partner realized they were not getting their way, they pushed me hard against the door, and something cracked in the back of my head, and I started bleeding badly," Memories about that day flashed within your mind. 

"It was a pain like no other. I got taken to the hospital, so it didn't escalate for the worse. The bleeding and the pain stopped, and I got a ticket out of that relationship for good," You chuckled with dryness in your voice. 

“They were scared I would make a lawsuit for the assault,” You remembered the face on your ex-partner’s face. You smiled for a moment before you frowned. 

"I thought it was just a freaky accident, but that accident allowed him awake from his slumber," You said with a frown. 

"Terrible things started to happen. I started seeing nightmares where this figure would kill people, I would wake up in different places, things move around, and I hear these strange words whispering into my ears. All kinds of freaky things," 

"And always on the next days, the news tells about the newest murder," 

"Then it all came back to me, Michael," 

"Something was connecting these things to him," 

"My mother still refused to speak about him when I asked, so I decided to investigate on my own," 

"The only way I could know more about him was to go through the records of my birth, and there I found him," 

"There was this old film, and there I saw me in the doctor's room and this deformed face and body attached to my back," 

"That thing was Michael," 

"It was a horrible sight. I was screaming, and Michael was sprouting in this strange langue I had heard in my dreams," 

"To remove him out from my body, my mother and the doctors decided to give me surgery," 

"They removed all Michael's physical parts and pushed his face deep into my head as they couldn't remove him completely since we shared the same brain," 

"I needed him to live, so they pushed him deep into the back of my head and closed it," 

"He had been inside me this whole time, and now he was awake, causing havoc and terrible things," 

"It explained everything, and I knew why my mother wouldn't speak about him," Your eyes almost glistened with tears. 

"But what does he want? Why is he doing this?" You questioned before drying your tears. 

“I don’t know the answer, and nobody believes me. They think I’m crazy, thus the reason they told me to do this,” You remained silent for a while. 

The room fell into silence until you looked into the mirror again. 

You remained silent before finally letting out your voice. 

"Why do these people in my dreams call you Morgoth, Michael?" You asked as a shadow was now sitting behind you, staring back at you from the other mirror. There was a mild pain in the back of your head, and you could see his eyes shining through the dark of his deformed face. 

"I shall let you know I’m also known by a different name," The voice said. 

"What?" You asked. 

"Melkor,"

[naarisz]

Beach episode

[doodle-pops]

Foreign Hearts

Gil Galad x modern human!reader

A/N: At last, the final piece for the event of this year is out! I wanted to go out with a bang but I didn’t expect to write so much (ノ_･､). Enjoy!

Warnings:modern human reader, fluff, humour, modern reader in Middle Earth, relationship talk

Words: 3.7k

Synopsis: Reflecting on the secrecy of the love you’ve shared with the High King, turned into another romantic and heartwarming moment between you two.

The sun had just begun its slow descent, casting a golden hue over the serene landscape of Rivendell. The air was crisp and cool, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves. The melody of a distant waterfall filled the air, mingling with the song of birds that flitted through the trees. Rivendell was a place of peace, of beauty that seemed untouched by time, and it had become your sanctuary since that fateful day when you had mysteriously appeared in the forests nearby.

It had been months since you found yourself in Middle-earth, a place you had only known from the pages of books and the whispers of legends. One moment, you had been living your life in the modern world, surrounded by the familiar hum of technology and the bustle of city life; the next, you were wandering through a forest that seemed to belong to another time, another world entirely.

The elves who had found you, clad in their silver and green, had been as shocked by your appearance as you were by theirs. You were an anomaly, a puzzle they couldn’t quite piece together. Lord Elrond, the wise and kind ruler of Rivendell, had taken you in, offering you shelter and care as you adjusted to this strange new reality.

Living in Rivendell was like stepping into a dream—everything was so ethereal, so perfect, that you often had to pinch yourself to make sure it was real. Yet, despite the beauty around you, it was hard not to feel out of place. The elves, with their flowing robes, graceful movements, and ancient wisdom, seemed like beings from a different world altogether. Your modern speech, your casual mannerisms, even your sense of humour—things that had been perfectly normal back home—stood out starkly against the elegance of elven customs.

There were times when you caught the elves watching you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, their ageless faces betraying their thoughts more than they likely realised. You had tried, at first, to conform to their ways, to adopt their formal speech and graceful etiquette. But it was exhausting to maintain, and eventually, you had accepted that you were simply different. You were a visitor in their world, and while you respected their ways, you couldn’t entirely change who you were.

It was during one of these quiet, introspective days that you first met Gil-galad.

The High King of the Noldor had arrived in Rivendell on a visit to consult with his Herald, Lord Elrond. You had heard of him in passing—the Elven king who ruled over Lindon, a figure of great authority and wisdom. But you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming that someone of his stature would have little reason to notice someone like you.

You were wrong.

The meeting had been as unexpected as everything else in Middle-earth. You had been wandering through one of the many gardens of Rivendell, lost in thought, when you nearly collided with someone. Looking up, you found yourself staring into the most striking pair of blue eyes you had ever seen. He was tall—taller than any of the other elves you had met—his presence commanding and regal, yet there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put you at ease.

“Forgive me,” he had said, his voice smooth and deep, though the amused glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t at all displeased by the encounter.

You had stammered out an apology, feeling flustered and out of place in front of someone so imposing. But the King had only smiled, intrigued by your manner of speech—so different from the formal, melodic tones of the elves. His curiosity was piqued, and instead of continuing on his way, he had engaged you in conversation.

At first, you had been nervous, unsure of how to speak to someone of such high status. But as the conversation flowed, you found yourself relaxing. Gil-galad was different from what you had expected. He was charming and kind, with a sharp wit that matched your own. He seemed genuinely interested in your world, in your experiences, and you found yourself laughing and talking more freely than you had since you arrived in Middle-earth.

Over the course of his stay in Rivendell, you and the High King crossed paths often. Each encounter left you feeling a strange mixture of excitement and confusion. He was a King, after all, and you were… well, you weren’t even sure what you were anymore. Yet, there was no denying the connection that had begun to form between you. It was as though he saw past the strangeness of your situation and was drawn to the very things that made you different.

It was during one of these visits that he had gifted you the music box. A small, intricately carved thing made of mahogany, it played a melody that was hauntingly beautiful. You had been surprised, touched by the gesture, and from that moment on, the music box had become one of your most treasured possessions.

Now, as you sat on the stone bench in one of Rivendell’s many gardens, you found yourself once again lost in thought, the music box cradled in your hands. You had come here to find some peace, to escape the swirling thoughts and emotions that had been troubling you ever since your feelings for Gil-galad began to deepen.

The gardens were quiet, the air cool and filled with the scent of blooming flowers. The sun was low in the sky, casting a soft, golden light over everything. It was a perfect evening, the kind that made you forget, if only for a moment, that you were far from home.

“Does it not trouble you?”

The familiar, smooth voice pulled you from your reverie, and you looked up to see Gil-galad approaching, his expression curious and gentle. He was dressed in his usual attire—garments of silver and royal blue, the colors of his house—his presence as commanding as ever. He sat down beside you on the bench, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, but not so close as to make you uncomfortable.

You blinked, trying to shake off the fog of your thoughts as you focused on him. But your gaze was drawn to his lips, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of anything else. His lips, curved into that familiar teasing smile, held your attention, and your thoughts muddled together into a jumble of emotions.

He noticed your gaze and, with a smirk, leaned closer, his voice laced with amusement. “Is there something on my face, or rather, my lips, my love?” he teased, drawing out the moment, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you quickly looked away, focusing intently on the music box in your hands. Your fingers traced the delicate carvings, desperate for something to distract you from the fluttering in your chest. “Your teasing is going to get you into trouble one day, My King,” you muttered, your voice a mix of shyness and annoyance—though the latter was directed more at yourself than at him.

Gil-galad’s expression softened as he leaned back slightly, giving you a bit more space. “How many times must I remind you? You may call me Ereinion,” he said gently, though there was a hint of playful reproach in his tone.

You kept your eyes on the music box, refusing to look up and meet his gaze. “Once more…I suppose,” you replied quietly.

Silence settled between you as he continued to watch you, his eyes tracing the movements of your hands and the way you muttered softly to yourself in a language he couldn’t fully understand. Your mother tongue, ancient and melodic, was a lexicon from a world and age far removed from his own. Yet, despite the differences, he found comfort in these moments, in simply observing you in your element, even when the words escaped him.

“You are unhappy, are you not?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with an undertone of certainty.

A smile tugged at your lips, as though his statement amused you, and for a brief moment, a crackle of energy filled the air, as if the very atmosphere responded to your unspoken thoughts. Setting the music box aside, you turned to face him, giving him the full weight of your attention. “Why would you come to such a conclusion, or rather, how?” you asked, disbelief coloring your tone. “I don’t recall ever giving the impression that I was.”

His expression softened, though there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes. “You do not address me by my name as lovers do,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that pained you to hear. “It is almost as if you were embarrassed or uninterested in being with me. Is it because of our secrecy?”

And as the question hung in the air between you, you realised that this was a moment of truth, a moment when the feelings you had been trying to ignore could no longer be denied.

The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against your chest like a heavy stone. Gil-galad’s expression, so often the picture of composed regality, was softened by the sadness in his eyes, a sadness that you had never intended to cause. But the truth, like the stone in your chest, was complicated and unyielding.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand, warm and comforting as always. “Ereinion,” you began, the use of his name deliberate, a balm for the hurt you had unknowingly inflicted. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed or uninterested in being with you. Far from it.”

He turned his hand over to grasp yours, his thumb gently tracing circles on your palm. The simple gesture was comforting, grounding you in the moment as you searched for the right words. Words that would explain what you felt without causing him more pain.

“You have to understand,” you continued, your voice soft but steady, “I’m a human, Ereinion. A mortal. And that means…well, it means that I’m different from the people you’ve ruled and loved for centuries. I’ve seen how some of the elves speak about humans—like we’re nothing more than a fleeting thought in their minds. I know that not all of them feel that way, but enough do that it will make our relationship…complicated.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt, simply listening as you voiced the thoughts you had kept buried for so long.

“You’re their High King, their leader, and their symbol of everything that is strong and eternal about the Eldar. And if they knew that you had chosen a human, someone who will live for only a blink of an eye compared to their long lives, to stand by your side…” You trailed off, shaking your head slightly. “I don’t think they would accept it. Not easily, anyway.”

He started to speak, but you held up your hand, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked at him, your heart swelling with affection. “It’s not just that, Ereinion. It’s also…well, I’m happy with things the way they are. Keeping our relationship a secret, it means I don’t have to deal with the expectations and judgments that would come if I were known as your chosen one. It’s a relief, honestly.”

You shifted slightly on the bench, feeling the smooth, cool wood beneath you as you gathered your thoughts. “When I first arrived in Middle-earth—when I was suddenly…here—I was lost. Confused. I didn’t understand your world or its customs. And despite the kindness I’ve been shown, especially by Lord Elrond, I still struggle with it. I’m not like the others. My behaviour, my speech, even the way I think, it’s all…different. I’ve spent over a year in Rivendell, learning and adapting as best I can, but there are times when I still feel like an outsider, like I don’t quite belong.”

The grip he held on your hand tightened slightly, a silent reassurance that he was there, that he understood. His eyes, so often filled with the weight of his responsibilities, now held only concern for you, his secret love.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty,” you added quickly, seeing the flicker of guilt cross his features. “In fact, it’s the opposite. I’m grateful that we can keep our relationship private. It means I don’t have to deal with the pressure of being a ruler, of trying to prove my worth to people who might never accept me. I’ve heard how some of the elves speak of humans—how we’re seen as lesser, as irrelevant. I’ve witnessed the way they look down on us, dismiss us.”

You paused, meeting his gaze with a steady look. “There’s no way they would accept me as their leader. And that’s okay. I don’t need them to. I’m happy with my freedom, with not having to live up to impossible expectations or navigate the treacherous waters of court politics and finding myself crying in a corner every day of the week, anxiously. I’m content being your secret lover, someone who can love you without the weight of a crown on my head.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, making his expression softened further, the sadness giving way to a deep, abiding affection. “You are remarkable,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a kind of awe that made your heart skip a beat. “To find contentment in such circumstances…it’s not something many could do.”

You chuckled softly, the sound breaking the tension that had built between you. “Well, I’ve always been one to adapt, but not this time. Maybe if it was another human instead of me, they might enjoy the idea of being a royal more than the problems it bring,” you teased lightly. “Besides, I’ve never been one for grand titles or public adoration. I prefer the quiet moments, like this one, where I can just be myself with you.”

He nodded, a small, grateful smile crossing his lips. “It’s those quiet moments that I cherish most as well,” he admitted. “In all my years, with all the burdens of leadership, it’s rare to find someone who sees me not as the High King, but as Ereinion—just an elf who loves and is loved in return.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “And that’s exactly how I see you,” you said softly. “I fell in love with you, not for your title or your power, but for who you are—the elf who listens to my ramblings, who teases me when I’m being too serious, who finds joy in the small things.”

The weight of your conversation still hung in the air, but with it came a sense of relief—a feeling that you had finally voiced the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind for so long. Gil-galad’s expression had softened, his eyes still holding that deep affection, but now there was an understanding between you that hadn’t existed before.

You broke the silence first, a small smile playing on your lips as you leaned back on the bench, your fingers still intertwined with his. “You know,” you began, your tone lightening, “I never imagined when I first ended up in Middle-earth that I’d be sitting here with the High King of the Elves, having a heart-to-heart in a secret garden.”

He chuckled softly, the sound a deep, warm rumble that you felt as much as heard. “And I never imagined that I’d fall in love with a human from a world I’ve never even heard of,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “But life has a way of surprising us, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, a laugh escaping your lips as you thought back to the strange journey that had brought you here. “That’s an understatement. I mean, one day I’m sitting in my apartment, minding my own business, and the next thing I know, I’m in Rivendell, surrounded by elves and trying to figure out how not to embarrass myself with every other word I say.”

Gil-galad’s smile widened, and he leaned back beside you, the tension between you dissipating like morning mist. “I remember the first time I heard you speak,” he mused, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You were trying to explain the concept of a ‘microwave’ to Elrond, and he looked as though he was trying to decipher an ancient riddle.”

You groaned, your cheeks heating at the memory. “Oh, don’t remind me. I must have sounded like a complete lunatic. I’m still not sure he believes that microwaves aren’t some kind of magic.”

“Well,” Gil-galad said, his tone mock-serious, “you have to admit, it does sound rather magical. A box that cooks food in mere moments? Even I have trouble wrapping my head around it.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to keep the grin off your face. “It’s just science,” you replied with a playful nudge. “But then again, in a world where magic is real, I suppose science might seem a little…mystical.”

He chuckled again, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “That’s one of the things I love about you,” he said, his voice warm. “You bring a perspective that’s entirely different from anything I’ve known. You see the world in a way that none of us do, and it’s…refreshing.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “So what you’re saying is, you fell for me because I’m weird?”

He laughed, the sound full and genuine, and you couldn’t help but join in. “Well, if by ‘weird,’ you mean unique, then yes,” he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And besides, I think you’re the only person who can make me laugh like this.”

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Oh, so I’m your court jester now? Should I start juggling or learn to ride a unicycle?”

Shaking his head, his laughter fading into a soft smile. “No, you’re much more than that. But if you do learn to juggle, I’m sure we could arrange a performance at the next feast.”

You playfully swatted his arm, your heart feeling lighter with each moment you spent in his company. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Only with you, my love.”

The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you felt your resolve to keep things light slipping away under the intensity of his gaze. But before you could lose yourself in the moment, you caught yourself and leaned back, a smirk on your lips as you tried to regain the upper hand.

“You know,” you said, your tone teasing, “if this is your way of convincing me to move in with you, you’re going to have to try harder. I’ve grown rather fond of my little room in Rivendell, and I’m not sure I’m ready to give up my bach pad just yet.”

His brow raised and lips quirking into a smile. “Oh? And what would it take to tempt you away from your ‘bach pad,’ as you call it? A private suite in the palace? Endless bouquets of flowers delivered daily? A personal chef to prepare all your meals?”

You pretended to consider his offer, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, those are all tempting…but I’m not sure. I mean, who’s going to teach Elrond about the wonders of modern technology if I’m not around?”

He laughed again, a deep, rumbling sound that made your heart flutter. “You make a good point. I’m not sure he’s ready to tackle the mysteries of the ‘microwave’ on his own.”

“I don’t think he’s even ready for to learn about the internet or the blender. However, he did take learning the TV, fairly,” you laughed.

“When you do, inform me for I would be interested in witnessing his utter confusion,” he replied with equal merriment.

You grinned, pleased with your little victory, but before you could bask in it for too long, Gil-galad leaned in once more, his expression suddenly serious. “But in all seriousness,” he said, his voice gentle, “I want you to know that wherever you are, that’s where I want to be. Whether it’s in Rivendell, here in my palace, or anywhere else…as long as we’re together, I’ll be happy.”

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for what to say. You had always known that he cared for you deeply, but hearing it spoken aloud, in such a simple, heartfelt way, made your chest tighten with emotion.

After a beat, you managed a smile, though it was softer now, more vulnerable. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “And as much as I joke about it…I know that wherever you are, I’ll always feel at home.”

His hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Then that’s all I need,” he said quietly.

The moment stretched out between you, filled with a warmth and understanding that words couldn’t fully capture. It was in the way he looked at you, the way his hand fit perfectly around yours, the way the world seemed to fall away when you were together. Here, in that garden, under the stars of a world you never expected to call home, you found something you never knew you were searching for.

But even as you basked in the comfort of the moment, a flicker of mischief returned to your eyes. “But just so you know,” you added with a grin, “if you ever try to get me to wear one of those elaborate court attires, we might have a problem.”

Launching into another round of laughter, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night, he shook his head. “Noted,” he said, his eyes shining with affection. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But I have to say, I think you’d look stunning.”

You wrinkled your nose playfully. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Your Majesty. I prefer my sweatpants and t-shirts, thank you very much.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. “And that’s exactly how I like you,” he murmured, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart grown warmer.

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[edennill]

The house of Fëanor at the airport:

Fëanor:

still making hasty additions to his luggage ten minutes before leaving

incurably absentminded in the terminal because he just had a new idea for a project enter his mind and is upset he hasn't got time to take out his notebook

still tries to wrote something down every time there's a queue

lost the twins twice

Nerdanel:

annoyed

"some of us have also got stuff we'd rather be doing and can manage to put it aside for a moment, Fëanor"

frighteningly efficient

still stops every few minutes to remark that she would like to sculpt this or that random passerby

Maedhros:

assigned third parent™

will do everything he's tasked with without question

responsible for the well-being of at least two of the younger ones

inwardly exasperated and outwardly an example of patience

small, efficiently packed suitcase

Maglor:

has taken 3 different musical instruments with him

whines if you tell him to take care of his younger brothers

walks three yards before the rest of the family

has quarelled twice with Celegorm and once with Caranthir since they started check-in

wants to go into souvenir shops

Celegorm:

was planning to smuggle his pets into his luggage but was informed they might be confiscated at the airport

dressed way too cold for the weather

teases his brothers and gets yelled at by everyone

runs circles around the rest of the group

tries to get on the luggage conveyor belt

finds souvenir shops boring; crashes a vase in one

Caranthir:

tired and cranky

lags behind the rest

nose in a book

terrified he will forget something made of metal at security

packed way too much but later people will always ask to borrow stuff from him

Curufin:

model child

unless he's running after Celegorm

or teasing Caranthir

insists on pulling his own luggage but quickly gives up

thankfully can be trusted to keep next to his father at all times

pulls his father into souvenir shops

Amrod and Amras:

seem to be attempting to roleplay Home Alone in New York

categorically forbidden from entering souvenir shops

try to poke inside the security scanner

Bonus - Celebrimbor:

model child no.2

makes new friends who don't even speak the same language as him

bought reams of overpriced stuff in souvenir boutiques by the rest of the family

has no concept of stranger danger

[anattmar]

out of context sketches

[stormchaser819]

I headcanon that modern Elrond would drive a minivan. With all his kids and foster kids it just makes sense.

[mossy-thing]

I am pretty sure I won't be writing a modern Silmarillion AU anytime soon, but if I do, there will absolutely be moments where someone is saying "I'd rather (thing that was a source of great pain and or death in canon) than (uncomfortable thing)".

Something along the lines of this:

Finrod: "I would rather be mauled by wolves than study for that exam."

Turgon: "I would rather be crushed by a tower than pull another allnighter."

Maedhros: "I would rather hang from a cliff for 30 years than ask him out."

I think that would be really funny.

[moredhel]

Modern AU Maglor

[havenotwillnotreadthebooks]

A sequel to my post about Just A Guy Gil-Galad.

Consider; Gil-Galad meeting the Sons of Feanor in Valinor, but he has no reaction to them at all because he’s been hearing ridiculous stories about the SoF from Elrond and Celebrimbor since forever.

Like,

Curufin, stone-faced while meeting his son’s blue-clad friend: Greetings, boy.

Gil-Galad, fresh outta fucks: You.-

Curufin, ready to be yelled at: -_-

Gil-Galad, completely serious: You’re the reason Celebrimbor didn’t know how taxes work!

*Flashback to Celebrimbor just sending A Lot of gems to Gil-Galad during tax season and calling it done*

Gil-Galad meeting the rest of the Sons of Feanor goes similarly.

[essenceofarda]

#wip Working on some old sketch requests... this time a Modern Fingon Fashion Doodles! I'm doing a bit more of a rendering painterly style with this one bc i want to practice my digital painting skills :)

[musingsinmiddleearth]

Some thoughts I had while I contemplated the behavioural traits of Fëanor:

I am not fond in many ways of the pathologising of traits that modern psychiatry has pursued. There’s a lot in the psychology of Fëanor that is relatable to me (and surely to others). I have been sat down and explained to how seldom were the hands and minds of [Fëanor/myself] at rest was a source for concern to my educators. That to have been of this nature is to be in some way deficient, because that nature would not be accommodated, and so a correction or a conformation was required.

I think the language around the description of a person's nature needs to be more respectful, and I think the Silmarillion is an excellent job of it. I find it more humanising to say that the fires of [Fëanor’s] heart grew too hot and [he was] in the pursuit of all his purposes eager and steadfast. Certainly more humanising than “signs of fixation and poor impulse management indicative of ADHD” which you could consider to be the exact same meaning in a certain light.

It was just interesting to me that the language of the Silmarillion described traits like this as being simply and intrinsically a part of the person’s nature (as is the truth) and sought not to change them, acknowledging when these traits were both a service and a disservice, and making no claim that these traits were evidence of some growing pathology in societal context. The Silmarillion respects Fëanor as being Fëanor and it is a kind of neutrality that I think is woefully absent from our world today.

I may of course be reading too much into it, but it got me thinking.

[kitty--white]

Celegorm: *holding a phone* Moryo, it's Mrs Kementary, she is asking why are you not in school?

Caranthir: Because of my deviant behavior, I decided to temporarily distance myself from this society.

Celegorm: Ah... *into the phone* He got sick. What? Why am I not? *close phone* And why am I not in school?

Caranthir: Because you are lazy and irresponsible.

Celegorm: *into the phone* I got sick too. We all got sick. Good bye.

[sesamenom]

maglor's outfit from the maglorath house party