I don't know if you've already been asked this, and my apologies if you have, but are there are terms of affection other than the given of 'vhenan' and 'emma lath?' Things less intense and more along the lines of 'dear' or 'darling' or 'cutie' or 'my sweet.' Boyfriend or girlfriend or other. Something between 'lethallan/in' and 'vhenan'. Thanks a bunch, you're amazing!
I don’t recall being asked something similar, but my memory can be shoddy, especially as the number of asks I get continues to climb.
In terms of endearments, you have to remember that endearments are usually born from the language. For example, while you could translate darling or sweetie into Elvhen, it would be like translating ‘baby,’ into Portuguese. Calling your lover bebê or docinho in Portuguese would be just be weird. Instead, you’re going to be using things like chuchu, gato/gata, or meu querido/minha querida — just to name a few. Likewise, while querido translates back into English as ‘dear,’ or ‘darling,’ calling somebody chayote or cat in English would be just as weird as calling somebody docinho in Portuguese.
Also mind that some of the endearments on the Elvhen wiki page are unfortunately just plain wrong from a grammatical/linguistic standpoint.
With that in mind, onwards to Elvhen endearments:
Da’assan: little arrow. An endearment used, usually for hunters, but can be used for anyone. Typically used to describe someone who is forthright, straight shooting, etc. Usually used by someone more experience/older towards someone less experienced/younger. Da’mi / Da’mis: little blade. An endearment used, usually for hunters or warriors, but can be used for anyone. Typically used to describe someone who is stubbon, but effective. Someone who goes to get what they want, and someone who does something regardless of consequence. As with da’assan, it is usually used by someone more experience/older towards someone less experienced/younger. Da’lath’in: little heart. An endearment used to describe someone who is emotional, carries their heart on their sleeve, is very empathetic, or very sympathetic to the plights of others. Typically used to describe a young person, but can be used for people of all ages who meet the description. Da Fen: Little wolf. An playful endearment for close friends, family and lovers. Used with those who are the same age or older. Da Fenlin: Little wolfling. An endearment similar to Da Fen, but used for those who are younger and/or less experienced. Ara halla / ‘Ma’halla: My halla. An endearment for a very close friend that you trust implicitly.
Ara iovru / ‘Ma’iovru: My bear cub, my baby bear. Ara vherlin / ‘Ma’vherlin: Kitten, baby cat Ara Dharlin / ‘Ma’dharlin: Pup, puppy, baby hound Ara hallain / ‘Ma’hallain: My little halla calf, My baby halla Ara da’adahl / ‘Ma da’adahl: My little tree Ara da’ean / ‘Ma’da’ean: My little bird Ara da’isenatha / ‘Ma’da’isenatha: My little dragon Ara vherain / ‘Ma’vherain: My lion cub, my baby lion In the above examples, the possessives are often omitted.
For Parents / Grandparents
Mae: Mommy, Mom, Ma Bae: Dad, Daddy, Pop Maela: Nana, Nona, Grammy Baela: Popop, Nono, Grandpa, Poppy Iovro’shan: old bear Fen’shan: Old wolf Isenatha’shan: Old dragon Vheraan’shan: Old lion Iovro’bae: Papa bear Iovro’mae: Mama bear Fen’bae: Papa wolf Fen’mae: Mama wolf Isenatha’bae: papa dragon Isenatha’mae: mama dragon Vheraan’bae: papa lion Vheraan’mae: mama lion
Ara’isha / ‘Ma’isha: Husband/boyfriend. Lit. my man Ara’asha / ‘Ma’ahsa: Wife/girlfriend. Lit. my woman Ara’esha / ‘Ma’esha: Partner/lover. Lit. my person Ara’len / ‘Ma’len: Husband/boyfriend. A much more poetic variant. Lit. Myself, my male person Ara’lan / ‘Ma’lan: Wife/girlfriend. A much more poetic variant. Lit. Myself, my female person. Ara’lin / ‘Ma’lin: Partner/lover. A much more poetic variant. Lit. Myself, my person Ara sa’lath / ‘Ma’sa’lath: My one love Ara lath / ‘Ma’lath: My love Vhen’an’ara: Heart’s desire. Lit. journey of the heart Arasha: My happiness Ara blarteralas / ‘Ma’blarteralas: My mountain flower Ara av’in / ‘Ma’av’in: My mouth. A very personal and slightly sexual endearment. The meaning is essentially, “I love you so much, and desire you so much, that my mouth tastes like yours.” But also means, “We understand each other on such a personal level, that you could talk for me.” Ara haurasha / ‘Ma’haurasha: My honey. A very sexual endearment that essentially means “You make me wet,” or “You make me hard.” Fyi: Haurasha (honey) is slang for precum, and the wetness of the vagina. Ara sal’shiral / ‘Ma’sal’shiral:My life. Essentially, “Love of my life,” or “You are my soul’s journey.” Gaildahlas: The elvhen word for embrium. Similar to the english endearment ‘sweetie,’ or ‘baby.’ Fenor: Precious. Similar to the english endearment: Dear, or beloved. Fenorain: Little precious. Similar to the english endearment ‘darling.’
“Keep that shield high Jaime.” Ser Broom
commanded while Joanna’s child fought as valiantly as any six year old could. She
watched carefully while Ser Bloom trained her one child in swordplay and the
septa trained the other in posture.
“Jaime, her for a moment dear.” Both looked
up with mirroring green eyes.
“Yes mother?” Joanna fixed her child’s collar
with a tender smile.
“Didn’t you father tell you to stop this
foolishness.” She murmured low enough for Cersei to hear. Her daughter’s
eyes went wide with some fear and Joanna let out a sigh.
“I don’t mind that you want to fight, you’re a
lioness. But blaming that poor serving girl for getting honey in your hair.
Your father had her tossed out. How many times have I told you to not
“But my hair was too long and everyone knew!”
Cersei said with a petulant stomp of her foot.
“That’s no excuse,” Joanna shot back “That poor girl is out of a
job, now I’ll had to find her employ in another house lest her family
starve.” Joanna watched for any trace of guilt on her daughters face and
found none. She let out a sigh and grasped her daughters chin. “You’re
actions have consequences, when you are a lady of a great house tongues will
wag if you are a cruel taskmaster. Everyone will know your dirty laundry and
your staff will hate you and do nothing to protect your reputation. Do you
Cersei kicked her foot a bit with a sad pout. “I’m
“Good, now back to training.” Joanna said
adjusting Cersei’s colar. Her daughter looked up at her with joy.
“I can keep training?!”
“Until your hair grows back, then we’ll have to
come up with another reason for keeping it short. At least for another year or
two. Then you have to become a real lady. You are going to be a queen, and this
farce will have to end sooner or later. It won’t be long before no one is
fooled by your little game.”
Cersei smiled up at her, “Thank you mama.”
Joanna smiled “Go and be a lion.”
Jaime swung his blade at the test dummy, it was an Iron
Born come to take his family away and he was the grand hero. He tried to add a
flourish to his finishing move like he’d seen Ser Broom do so often, but the
dummy swung round and whopped him on the back of his head. Jaime hit the ground
in an inglorious fashion and felt tears of pain and humiliation surge to his
hot face. He started to hold back a whimper when a soft pair of hand lifted his
“Stand Jaime.” His mother said with a soft smile. He
reached out to her clutching at her red sleeves.
“Help me.” he whimpered pulling her arm down.
“You are not missing a leg or bleeding, stand on
your own like any other warrior and face your enemy. You are a Lannister of
Casterly Rock, great lords do not cry for their mothers after falling.” She said with soft yet stern voice.
Jaime’s mother withdrew her arms and stood with and
expectant look on her face. He wiped his nose and stood tall. His mother smiled
with pride and smoothed the hair from his face. She tied his laces, fixed his collar
and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead.
“My fierce little lion cub. Go on, back to your
enemy. I want to watch you win.”
Jaime smiled and showed his mother Lannister strength that day.
I just had the cutest idea. Baby Drake yawning with his two canine teeth showing slightly, his little round ears and his cute baby chubbiness. Also did I read somewhere or did I make it up in my head that Yang and Blake call him their little lion cub?
actual parental dorks Yang and Blake
And yeah I did say that the fam calls Drake ‘Cubby’ or ‘Lil Lion Cub/Boy/Man’ because this cute lil cub.
A drabble for cute-ellyna because I made her sad last night with headcanons. Have some fluffy Avvar Dad!Cullen to compensate! SFW. Set in the Captivated universe.
“You’re not serious, are you?”
Elena asked, looking askance at Cullen as she shifted the toddler on her hip.
Cullen uncrossed his arms and held them out to
take their son, “of course I am, lass. Bjorn should be acquainted with our
holdbeast. He’s not a baby any more—it’s a rite of passage, and he’s going to
be Thane one day.”
Elena held the blond boy closer to
her, his warm little body heating her side like a tiny portable fire. He fussed
with a lock of her hair, his chubby fist tangling in the fire-red strands that
fell down her shoulder. They were standing in their private rooms at the back
of the Thane’s hall, a few servants bustled around them, pointedly ignoring their
conversation. She could already hear the sounds of the spontaneous feasting
breaking out in the great hall at the front of the building. Terava, the fierce
red-lion that was their holdbeast, had arrived in the square that morning, a
line of four fuzzy cubs in tow. The augur had said it was a sign from the gods
that the hold would be prosperous for at least as many years as there were cubs,
and Cullen had called a feast in Terava’s honor.
“I don’t like it,” she said stubbornly.
Cullen sighed and dropped his
hands. With a slow smile, he moved closer to her, until he pressed into her
side, his hand grasping her hip. His other hand fell on their son’s head,
ruffling the feather soft blond curls affectionately.
“What troubles you, my love?” He
purred before brushing a quick kiss against her temple. “Are you sad Bjorn is
no longer an infant? Because I could give you another. I’d happily make your belly
Elena shivered as his warm breath
ghosted against her neck. She looked up at him, heat pooling between her legs
at the unbridled lust in his eyes. Her husband was always an eager and
affectionate lover, but when she had been carrying Bjorn, he had been especially
ardent, almost insatiable, in his attentions to her.
Still, she mustn’t let him distract
her with sweet promises. She shook her head.
“No, I don’t like the idea of our
son being dangled in front of a lion like an enticing brace of lamb,” she
Cullen huffed. “He’ll be perfectly
safe, I’ll be with him the entire time, won’t I, my lad?” He said, voice
softening as he addressed Bjorn.
Bjorn giggled at his father’s attention
and raises his arms up, fists grabbing in the air. “Papa!”
Elena couldn’t stop the smile that
broke across her face at their son’s demands. Papa had been Bjorn’s first word,
and no one could deny how much the little boy adored his father–he was always chasing after Cullen or climbing into his lap.
“Oh fine,” she exclaimed, and
carefully transferred him into Cullen’s waiting arms.
“Up, Papa! Up!” Bjorn cried tugging
on the long braids that hung down his father’s neck.
Cullen laughed, and began tossing the
toddler into the air like he demanded. The boy’s delighted shrieks and laughter
filled the air at their little game, and Elena couldn’t help but smile and
shake her head—she loved seeing Cullen with their child. It had been love at
first sight for not only her, but him too, and she couldn’t be happier at the
enthusiasm Cullen had for raising their boy. After a few rounds of tossing and catching,
Cullen settled Bjorn at his hip and pressed a smattering of kisses to the boy’s
soft cheek, eliciting more screams of delight from scratchiness of his beard.
As they walked out towards the
square where, no doubt, their holdbest was currently lounging in a bright patch
of sun, apprehension stuck tight in Elena’s throat. Half of the hold was
still milling around outside, taking care of business, setting up for the feast,
or already feasting. When they saw their Thane approaching the beast with his
son, they paused, watching carefully. Elena stood near the edge of the square,
arms crossed tight around her chest as she watched. Out of the corner of her
eye, she saw Roselie come to stand next to her. It seemed everyone had been waiting for this.
Once Cullen was a few feet away from
Terava, he gently set Bjorn down on his feet, though he held onto the boy’s
hands, keeping him steady as he stood. The red-lion lounged on a grassy patch
between the Thane’s meadhall and the blacksmith’s forge, her four cubs playing
around her. With unsteady legs, Bjorn began ambling towards her, following the
gentle prodding of his father behind him. Cullen shuffled after the boy, and
though he wouldn’t have admitted it to Elena, he was ready to snatch his son up
into the safety of his arms at a moment’s notice. As the approached, Terava
lifted her head and blinked slowly.
Bjorn was in front of the giant cat
now, green eyes wide as he took in the stripped russet fur, black nose, and big golden
eyes. The holdbeast inclined her head and began sniffing the toddler. Bjorn went still as a statue as she moved towards him.
“It’s okay, little one,” Cullen
cooed. “Terava won’t hurt you.”
Elena hope he was a confident as he sounded.
As if to prove Cullen’s point, a great
red tongue shot out of the lion’s mouth and licked the side of Bjorn’s face.
The little boy’s laughter echoed off of the buildings, and he pulled one of his
hands out of Cullen’s grasp to settle it in the soft fur on the cat’s head. A deep pleased rumble echoed off the buildings from the cat’s chest, and after a moment she turned her attention back to her own cubs. The interview, it seemed, was over.
As Cullen picked up his son and
slowly backed away from the animal, Elena let out a breath she hadn’t known she
was holding. He returned to her side and pressed a kiss to her lips.
“There, lass, I told you there was
nothing to worry about,” he assured before turning to the boy on his hip with a
wicked smile. “You did very well Bjorn. Why don’t you show Mama how Terava kissed you?”
The little boy’s smile matched his father’s in wickedness as he leaned forward, tongue darting out. Elena laughed as Bjorn licked her
cheek, though she shot Cullen a look. Wiping the back of her hand over the offending spot with great exaggeration she pulled at face at the both of them.
“Yuck! No more lion-kisses, Bjorn,
or else you’ll have to go live with them, my little lion cub” she teased, tickling him into a fit
As she tickled Bjorn, Cullen leaned forward, his lips hovering near her ear, “Can I still give you lion-kisses, lass?”
Elena grinned and leaned up on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek.
“Depends on where you’re kissing me,” she whispered back, nipping his jaw. “Why don’t you find out tonight?”
so one bright and sunny day, i found out that a few of my beloved blogs were practically babies. wise beyond their years, these under-16 year olds burrowed into my heart and awakened the fierce lioness within me. and so began THE LION CUB CLUB.
Blaine smiled happily as he and Liam finished watching the Halloween special of Winnie the Pooh. He looked at Liam, “Did you like that my little lion cub?” he asked. “Daddy has a present for you,” he smiled before pulling out a bag containing a plastic toy pumpkin he hoped Liam would be interested in.
— Nic was very eager for Kurt, but the designer hadn’t appeared yet. He constantly kept checking the road and then the door to see if he could jiggle a bolt