#Messenger Eddie

[arikihalloween]

More wttmv doodles ?? In this economy ?

Full gang fr

I wish I could draw on my tablet but I can't so for now you guys will have to survive on crumbs

[keeperthemultiversemom]

Miss Keeper Miss Keeper!! He's back!! Trader is back! IT'S TIME TO VISIT HIM!!

Following this :

"Hug time"

No one can escape hug time !

I tried to be as fast as I could ! It ended up longer than anticipated haha

Now tagging everyone

@asking-trader-howdy

@sillyshootingstar

@thewatchfuleyebelow

@ask-archivist-frank

@apileofscripts

@ask-courier-eddie

@ask-observer-wally

@ask-admin-julie

Timelord belongs to Kimu

Shopkeeper belongs to @cosmic-meteorites

Wayfinder belongs to @bloomenvogel

Faceless belongs to @axolotlang

Messenger belongs to @thelazyangel4567

[stitchedragdoll]

While I'm in the process of showing unreleased art

Here's the second first art of Stitcher ! I did it at the same time as the one with Keeper, back when we were discussing dynamics ( this might still be one of my best dynamic poses for Stitch' eh)

And also, I figured I could show her actual body ref, with the progression from early backstory

I won't share the backstory just yet, that much will come asks !

[redwhitebuddie]

so has anyone else noticed that eddie is present in like 85% of the scenes that tommy has been in. like when are buck and tommy even alone together???

… the answer is never

[annelostshoe]

hope you feel better soon Cray

Hello guys! I wont be drawing answers for Archivist for awhile due to some recent events.

My grandfather just passed away last night so Im still trying to process what happened, but rest assured i'll be back to drawing answers soon, you'll just be getting text replies as of now.

Anyways have self insert drawings of me with Seamster!Barnaby and Messenger!Eddie.

[m1ster1e]

Since I last worked on chapter 3 of paper airplanes I have gotten:

Strep

Covid (again)

Tonsillitis

Bronchitis

I am trying so hard to write the next chapter but I'm ALWAYS sick. I'm also now incredibly poor with all the doctors visits and all the work I've missed lol. It would be nice if my immune system had time to recover fully before I go back to athletics, work, and class, but such is life lmao.

Anyway expect another chapter hopefully soon ♡

[kusukixcrystal]

Zen is a Prince From Grass

First, we will start with comparisons.

Younger Zen/Hyun (Age 18?):

Younger Jieun/Etinos (Age 16):

Older Jieun/Etinos (Age 19?):

Older Zen/Hyun (Age 23):

... I wanted to get that out of the way first. Zen and Jieun obviously have physical similarities (especially when they were both younger and drawn with thick eyelashes), but let’s go beyond this. After all, Cheritz has a habit of making the love interests in their games have similarities to each other. In every game, you always have 5 love interests and 1 MC pursuing them because of reasons (V and Ray's routes broke this pattern, but the original MM only had 5 routes so...). There are more specific similarities like 707 and Red, Yeonho, and Yoosung, arguably Lance and Jumin, etc. Now, I think this goes deeper in the case of Zen and Jieun.

In another post, I talk about how there is a pattern with Cheritz boys who have red eyes, and it's that they all have powers. It is explicitly stated/heavily hinted they have this power, and I pointed out that Jieun and Zen’s power is basically the same. (There’s gonna be a lot of screenshots as points of evidence/to get my points across).

I don’t have the exact screenshot of Zen saying that his dreams predict the future, but I’m sure he explicitly mentions this at some point in the game. If he didn’t, in my other post I mention 2 examples of him predicting the future. What am I suggesting exactly? Well, I think that Zen is not only royalty but also related to Jieun somehow.

Let’s start with what we know about Jieun’s power:

This is Jieun’s explanation from his route when confronted by Heejung. I have no idea where it is mentioned, but having red eyes is also another sign that you have these powers. (If someone knows where in the game this comes up let me know!). When he sees the future, wind flies everywhere and he uses it on purpose to see Heejung’s future specifically.

This is different from Zen, who only sees the future in dreams, and they come to him randomly. Though, I think Jieun does mention that he had to train his power in order to use it at will. If Zen was gifted this power by the gods, then doesn’t that mean that he is from Grass? And not only that, he has the potential to become king? If that is the case, why is he not there, and living a normal life? 

To answer that question, we have to talk about Jihae/Eddison:

He is key to this theory. He is Jieun’s knight and his duty is to protect him. In Jieun’s route, he talks briefly about their past:

Jieun is talking about his own mother, and how she was a maid, while his father was presumably the king because Jieun still retains his prince status, despite his parents being from different classes.

He was separated from her after he was born, and the only way she can hear about Jieun is through Jihae (Jieun calls him ‘Eddie’ as a nickname).

Dark blue text is Jihae. Light blue is Jieun:

A lot to unpack here. This dialogue shows how Grass has a strict hierarchy. Aristocrats and commoners shouldn’t have relations. If they do, the child of such an affair is treated badly. Even though one of Jieun’s parents was of low birth, because he can see the future and has white hair, he is left alone. In fact, he’s still eligible to become king despite everything. Jihae was in the same boat, but because his hair was gray he was judged, called ugly, and a bad omen. In the dialogue above we see Jihae call himself filthy, a testament to how people treat him on the daily. Jieun recognizes how beautiful Jihae truly is, and that isn’t an exaggeration! When they come to Earth, Jihae is offered modeling jobs when he’s in Busan and starts a career out of it.

The 2nd screenshot shows him in one of his modeling gigs (Let’s take a second to appreciate him). It’s not that the rabbits in Grass do not see that he is beautiful, but that his social status as a child of a commoner/outsider derides everything else. In fact, his good looks probably garner even more disgust. Heejung also considers Jieun to be beautiful, so it might also be a facet of being noble/royal to be beautiful by Earth's standards.

What does that have to do with Zen? Well: 

1. Has gray hair.

2. Is considered extremely handsome, and is so popular that even Jumin has offered him to model for his company.

3. Has red eyes and can see the future in his dreams. 

4. His healing ability! Magic is a thing in Grass so maybe that has something to do with it?

5. His own ‘family’ have voiced how much Zen doesn’t look like them:

“Why do we look so different?” I wonder why too Zen’s bro.

Poor Zen still gets bothered by people because of his looks. At least it's not as hostile as Jihae’s experience, but it’s upsetting nonetheless.

All of this added up, and you can see where I’m going with this. Zen could be a prince, one parent royal, and the other a commoner/outsider. This gives him gray hair, but he is still born with the power of precognition, making him eligible to become king. Who knows if his power would outweigh his status? It might not, if he ended up on Earth in the end.

Jieun stated that once every 3 generations, a divine child like himself is born. Zen and Jieun are clearly not the same people since their hair color is different.

I believe Zen is either a prince:

1. 3 generations after Jieun.

2. At some point in Grass’ history was a prince, whether in the past or the future.

The reason I say this is because of the timeline. Dandelion and Nameless have very explicit dates for when and where it takes place. Most of the time both take place on Earth in South Korea between the years 2012-2013. But Mystic Messenger is a big question mark. D & N’s years correspond with the year the games were released in. If we follow that pattern, then Mystic Messenger would have happened in 2016. The thing is, that is not confirmed in-game, and is just speculation. So, we can give the timeline some leeway. 

There are 3 possibilities for how Zen got sent to Earth:

1. Zen made a desperate wish to leave Grass: This is the sad option. Based on how we see Jihae be treated, especially if you get deeper into his backstory, Zen could have been neglected/verbally abused/etc. for his hair. The Wizard in Dandelion can grant any wish you desire, as long as that wish is desperate. If Zen arrived on Earth as a child, then the implications of that are even worse. In exchange for a wish, your memories relating to that wish are taken away. Perhaps his memories of Grass was the price and that’s why he doesn’t remember anything. The earliest memory we see in-game was from when he was studying with his older brother as a child when he was 7 years old.

2. Sorcerers from the royal family: They sent him to Earth as a child. I bring this up because, in Dandelion, travel between the planets was seen as impossible. Of course, with the exception of The Wizard and making a desperate wish. He was the one who brought the rabbit and cat boys to Earth, after all. BUT THEN, Jieun came in.

At the end of Jieun’s route, he gets separated from Heejung and has to go back to Grass. 3 years after, Heejung is summoned to Grass by a group of sorcerers Jieun got together (Whether they are actually other wizards is up for debate). Jieun overcame the odds. This is why I suggested that Zen is a prince 3 generations after Jieun. Perhaps this spell was tweaked to send Zen to Earth instead of the other way around. Going back to what I said before, if Zen is a prince 3 generations after Jieun, and got sent to Earth in South Korea specifically, then it can make sense why it happened. 3 generations down the line I think records would remain of a former king (Jieun) summoning a woman (Heejung) from another planet, and maybe Jieun documented his stay in South Korea. A portal dropping Zen in South Korea of all places on the planet could make sense from this angle. Maybe he had some protection spells cast on him (his random fast healing?) and maybe even his human family has been bewitched to believe he is their birth son? Maybe some member of the royal family orchestrated all of this for Zen’s sake, so that he can live a life free of judgment (didn’t quite work out but still). This is mostly conjecture though.

The details of how all of that would happen are up in the air.

3. Zen was unwillingly sent to Earth/MM universe(?) and is now trapped: I think this one needs an entire post by itself. This has to do with Saeyoung being a wizard and April Fool’s DLC stuff. This one is the one I believe in the most.

Nonetheless, I have brought up all the points why I believe Zen could be a prince from Grass. (Also lol Zen hated Jumin for being a trust-fund kid, but he could be a divine child blessed by god and is a bunny prince lmaoooo).

[vulpinesaint]

THE CHURCH IN WHICH I WAS SENT A MESSENGER OF GOD.

[magnoliabutters]

Hey there! Just wanted to remind you that you are appreciated and loved. I hope you are having a wonderful day! P.S. Drink plenty of water, mmm’kay?

you are too good to me, my friend ♥️ ugh, i suck at drinking water but i’ma make the effort for you!

i hope that you know you are loved and appreciated, most definitely by me. your encouragement and words have meant so much, and i hope you know that 🫶🏼

wishing you the bestest week! p.s. idk why i went ham on the colors but it just felt right 🙈

[misstartrekandel]

Yall my new account is @m1ster1e , I won't be reposting my old fics there so check through this page for them :)

[julio-viernes]

"Galactic Love", lo único que publicaron UFO en 1972, un single con una versión de "Lovin´ Cup" de Paul Butterfield en la cara B. No tengo el sencillo pero ambos temas vienen incluidos en el recopilatorio "The Best Of UFO" (Decca 1973) que sí tengo. El amor galáctico del Objeto Volador No Identificado se inicia con una chispa de "Astronomy Domine" y pasa a un "Paranoid" menos paranoico (en ambos casos una cosa aproximada). En el vídeo del programa "Rock En Stock" de la TV francesa de 1972, imágenes del grupo con Larry Wallis, le siguen "Silver Bird" del segundo álbum de UFO y su versión del legendario "C´mon Everybody" de Eddie Cochran del primero, que también incluyó "Who Do You Love" de Bo Diddley, probablemente vía los "rastros felices" de Quicksilver Messenger Service. El denso - ese bajo- y envolvente "Evil" es otro de los números fuertes de "UFO 1".

[keeperthemultiversemom]

So, Ms. Keeper, what's your favorite type of music? :]

Keeper is concerned about Messenger's choice of music...

Nyxie is still wheezing about it

[jazzdailyblog]

Robin Eubanks: The Trombone Virtuoso Pushing Jazz's Boundaries

Introduction: In the illustrious tapestry of jazz, certain artists emerge as trailblazers, pushing the boundaries of their chosen instruments and redefining the genre itself. One such luminary is Robin Eubanks, a virtuoso trombonist whose innovative approach to music has garnered critical acclaim and captivated audiences worldwide. The Early Harmonic Stirrings: Robin Eubanks was born…

[fuckyeahvanhalen86-95]

As Wolfgang Van Halen discussed in a recent conversation with The Messenger, he has his sights firmly set on the present, specifically a new album and tour dates featuring his solo band Mammoth WVH.

But with the Van Halen name comes endless drama. The band's well-established dysfunction didn't cease with the 2020 death of Eddie, the iconic shredder and Wolfgang's father; ever since, there has been nonstop chatter and bickering around the idea of a tribute show or tour, which bubbled up again last month when Sammy Hagar said that Alex Van Halen won't return his calls and that there's "no way" David Lee Roth would work with him.

For his part, Wolfgang simply says, "I view me just being alive and being in the music business as a tribute to my father every day."

Elaborating, he gave his candid take on the tribute-show rumors and discussed how playing Van Halen songs at last year's shows honoring late Foo Fighters drummer Taylor Hawkins gave him a chance to honor his father's legacy.

THE IDEA OF A TRIBUTE TO YOUR DAD KEEPS COMING UP. DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHY IT REMAINS SUCH AN ACTIVE CONVERSATION?

It's out of love and how many people my father's writing and playing touched around the world. But life isn't written to have a happy ending — some things just suck. And if I have to figure out how to have a life without my father in it, I think people can figure out how to live without Van Halen, because it can't happen. Dad's not here, Van Halen doesn't exist anymore as far as I'm concerned. The music and the legacy are there, and I'll be here to push that forth, through things like dad's guitar and amp company, and help in every single way.

The unfortunate thing in comparison to what Dave Grohl was able to pull off with the Taylor Hawkins tribute, is that the Foo Fighters have a very friendly thing going on. There wasn't a lot of animosity between members to get it done and Van Halen is quite the opposite. I don't know, maybe it's just '80s bands — there's something about '80s bands where it was the cool thing to be dicks. But some things just don't work out and it seems like this is one of them.

DID PLAYING IN THOSE TAYLOR SHOWS CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE AT ALL ABOUT THE IDEA OF TRIBUTE EVENTS?

Luckily, I feel like I was able to get that feeling from the Taylor thing, which is why I played Van Halen songs and that's not something I take lightly. It felt like the right thing to do, knowing how impossible it would be to do it as a separate thing. I took that as my opportunity obviously to pay tribute to Taylor, but at the same time pay tribute to my father. And that was it for me and it's over — that was me having that moment and being able to do it myself, outside of all the bullshit that the Van Halen duff gets muddled in with. I think I was able to put that to rest and not say goodbye, because I hate to ever speak in absolutes, but for the foreseeable future, Van Halen is not what I'm focused on in any way.

IS IT FRUSTRATING THAT YOU HAVE TO KEEP DEALING WITH THE SQUABBLING?

Beyond that, it's emotionally difficult for me to hear about it every day. But that's the position I'm in unfortunately, and there's nothing I can do about it. I think Zelda Williams, Robin's daughter, put it in such a beautiful way — on one of the anniversaries of his passing, she said that even a truckload of roses weighs a ton.

I understand that it's all rooted in positivity, but it gets very jarring, and it wears you out. I can't go online or do anything without somebody reminding me "Hey, knock, knock, your dad's dead. Do you miss him?" I feel like unless you're in this position, nobody really understands it. You can empathize with it, but it's very tough to relate to.

[thewickedspinster]

Of Eternity (Thranduil x Reader)

pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

synopsis: Thranduil and Y/N know each other from what seems like a past life; one that both would rather forget. Once secret lovers, hidden from the prying eyes of the Elvenking's court, the two elves' disagreements became too much, their opinions too divided. Y/N departed for Rivendell and sought shelter with her friend, Elrond. But when the Elvenking of Mirkwood comes to parlay with the Lord of Rivendell, he once again meets Y/N, and someone else who looks awfully familiar...

warnings: afab!Reader, pregnancy, elf children, war

Tathrenion = son of one willow-made

requested by @starlight5cat

Of Eternity

In Rivendell, the seasons turned as flowers bloomed; with a sudden burst of color against the greys of winter. They came and went quickly for elvenkind, rising and eddying like the tide, and with them came new wonders and sounds, new flavors. Song.

Y/N could hardly remember a time when her life was not dictated by these rhythms, when time was so magnified as to hear her own heartbeat, to watch the sunlight catch upon a dewdrop. Though, it was not so long ago she was in a place where seasons hardly touched, where time stood still and light lingered in honeyed moments. Where her breath raced in her body, and youth stretched into eternity. Where naïveté was all too familiar.

Here, she had more responsibility. Here, she was unequivocally welcome. When she had fled the confines of her life before in Mirkwood, where she had been daughter of a Ñoldor house descended from Fingolfin, and gone westward into the Misty Mountains, she had only hoped her old friend, Elrond, would grant her sanctuary. He welcomed her with open arms. Here, she sat on his council of advisors. Here, life was warm and full of light once more.

For a short time of twenty-odd years, there was peace east of the Misty Mountains. Though her cousin Galadriel could not believe it, it had appeared the dark servant of Morgoth named Sauron had been vanquished. The grey elves lived in peace with the sons of Durin and helped the wayward man, but kept to their forests and their mountains. All had seemed well, and with the protection of the haven of Rivendell, the darkness of old seemed unable to touch her.

Such comforts cannot last. Not so long as Morgoth and his fell creations plagued Arda.

As soon as word reached Rivendell of a darkness fallen upon southern Mirkwood, Elrond sought Y/N's counsel.

"You know the eastern forests well," Elrond said softly, guiding them both down towards the river. Water fell in a gentle curtain of silver ahead, glinting in the moonlight. "What sort of evil could cause these things?"

The pair ducked behind the waterfall, and the sound of rushing water hushed their voices. There hidden was an alcove, large enough for a small group, with cushions surrounding the burnt-out embers of a fire. Elrond had come here often in the early days of ruling Rivendell, and when Y/N had arrived, had brought her here in her most vulnerable moments.

"The Elvenking's Halls are to the north, but in my many wanderings, I went south," she answered, settling on the floor alongside Elrond. "Mirkwood is vast and its creatures untold, but I have never seen anything that would produce this sort of rot."

Elrond hummed, deep in thought. Elven and human messengers alike had been passing along rumors of dark creatures in the southern Mirkwood, things that walked on more than four legs, with slavering maws and the stench of evil surrounding them. Elves who more often ventured south returned with harrowing stories of voices, of song coming from the dark trees. The canopies had grown so thick that sunlight hardly reached the ground. Some had even reported sightings of Orcs.

"You know what this means," Y/N said, interrupting Elrond's reverie. "Galadriel was right. She was always right. We cannot know that Sauron is vanquished. We burned no body. Isildur brought no head. Only the Silmaril."

"There are no credible rumors of Morgoth's creatures, Y/N."

"There are," she insisted. "They have started calling this force 'The Necromancer.' This is no coincidence, Elrond. All evil in these lands comes back to Sauron. To Morgoth. So long as their discord remains, none of the children of Eru are safe."

Beyond his red head, with his noble face, the silvered water fell in sheets, dulling to a gentle sheaving. Waiting. When he raised his gaze, he said, "What would you have me do?"

Galadriel would have them go to war. Though she had grown less brash since the last age, she had grown no less desperate for Sauron's defeat. But Rivendell was a haven, a place of peace for wandering elves. She could not see amassing forces and marching to Mirkwood unaided. Besides, it was not Elrond's territory to march on.

"You know exactly what you must do, my friend," she said at last.

"You do not like him."

"What of it?"

"He is the reason you fled your home."

It was true enough, though it still gave Y/N pause. Mirkwood had been a home for long centuries, it was true. But before that, she had known the lushness of Beleriand, and the glory of Númenor. She would always be a wanderer. But the Elvenking of Mirkwood brought with him memories too fresh to be painless.

"He is the lord of Mirkwood, and should you wish to do anything at all about this rising evil, you must first confer with him," she said firmly. "Invite him here. Invite his entire court. They will leave Prince Legolas to guard the north, but Thranduil will come."

"I would have you by my side upon his reception."

Y/N caught the glimmer of ancient mischief in Elrond's eyes, and offered him a faint smile in return. "It would be an honor."

~~~

Word came within a fortnight that the Elvenking's party would embark on the Elf-path by the full moon. This gave the people of Rivendell little time to prepare, but showed Elrond and his council how dire circumstances were in Mirkwood.

As Y/N stood at Elrond's side on the dais before the sweeping steps to the city, she knew that in this matter, as all others, that Thranduil would be stubborn, cunning, and seemingly omniscient. It was in his power as king to appear so to his people. But Y/N, he could not fool. She and Elrond would simply need maneuver with tact, to force Thranduil into showing his hand.

In the distance, the royal traveling party rounded a bend and came into view, the Elvenking in his raiment of grey and silver astride his great antlered steed. From here, Y/N could feel his piercing gaze upon them, focusing on her at the Lord of Rivendell's side. Robed in rich, dark green against Elrond's golden raiment, Y/N stood tall. A circlet of gold sat upon her brow, and in it, an opal enshrined. Befitting of her station, she stood to Elrond's left, his wife Celebrían to his right.

Y/N had known true fear in the face of evil, yet facing the Elvenking of Mirkwood after these twenty years turned her chest cold. She could never fear him - she knew him too well, but that was just the problem. They shared a deep past of friendship, of love, forbidden though it may have been. And pain, at the last. Since their parting, she had, for the first time, lived many secrets that she kept from him still.

The party finally arrived at the dais, the great reindeer's feet clapping against the stone as thunder. The Elvenking dismounted, stepped before Elrond, and inclined his head.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell, you honor me with your great hospitality," he said formally, the Sindarin tongue rolling like quicksilver from his mouth. "And Lady Celebrían, thank you for welcoming my host into your household."

Elrond, Y/N, and the council assembled bowed to the king.

"We are pleased you answered our invitation," Elrond replied, his tone, as ever, one of deliberate lightness, as if he knew something no one else did. "How long shall you stay?"

"A week," Thranduil said shortly. Finally, finally, his silvered eyes shifted to Y/N. She breathed in deeply. "There are matters to attend to in Mirkwood."

"I do hope Prince Legolas is well," she said softly, smoothly.

Thranduil looked momentarily surprised she'd spoken, his eyebrows drawing together at the sound of her voice. "He is taking to his responsibilities well."

A moment of silence passed. The river roared below. Then, Celebrían was taking gesturing towards the king, leading him away into the great wood house of Rivendell.

Formal greetings complete, the rest of the crowd quickly dispersed, and elves moved swiftly in preparation for the feast prepared in the king's honor. Soon, only Elrond and Y/N remained. She watched the sun setting over the vale, eyes fixed on the rushing waters surrounding.

"Will you tell him?" Elrond asked, voice so quiet only she could hear.

"How could I?" Y/N whispered. She felt her fingers tremble.

"It is unfair to -"

"You shall not tell me what is fair or unfair, Elrond," Y/N whirled, suddenly furious. "You know not what it is to have my fears."

Elrond held up his hands. "I only wish to say that truths are better spoken. Deception is the chaos-sower."

"It will put him in danger."

"It will give him power."

"A curse," she hissed. "A bounty upon his head."

"Or a crown."

She stared at her friend, stunned. "You do not mean that."

Elrond only watched her in return.

With no words left between them, Y/N turned and disappeared into the house, bracing herself for the week to come.

~~~

It was the fourth day of the accursed sessions of counsel, and Thranduil had still not admitted there being any disturbance in Mirkwood. He spoke on matters of trade, of agriculture, of relations with Khazad-Dûn, but nothing of the murmurs from the Sutherlands.

Y/N was beginning to lose her patience.

Elrond, blessedly, had more of it to spare. Ever the diplomat, he listened to Thranduil's concerns and complaints of their relations, and constructed plans to fix them. Ever the master of compromise, he kept Rivendell's secrecy and best interests at heard. Ever the more patient of the two, he kept prodding the Elvenking towards revealing his secrets, to no avail.

Y/N sat, posture relaxed, around the dais at the center of Elrond's pubic chambers. The elves around her deliberated, debated, while she kept her mouth closed. As Elrond's chief advisor, her primary duty was to listen. She interjected when Elrond looked to her, and when someone said something entirely ludicrous. Elves tended to take a laboriously long time to come to any sort of agreement in politics, and were reasonable to the point of boredom. Y/N's engagement had thus far been minimal, though she heard all.

They had turned to the topic of weapons, and of Rivendell's protection. They were inching closer to the topic at hand, but she knew Thranduil had a deep well of patience, particularly when it came to dealing with elves. The high noon sun blazed down on the white marble.

"How have you fared in the training of your ranks?" Thranduil inquired, sipping at a goblet of honeywine.

"The archers excel, under the tutelage of Sindarin masters," Elrond said. "The swordsmen, under that of the Ñoldor. Khazad-Dûn has agreed to provide us with weapon designs, and with materials to forge them. Durin is all too happy to help an old friend."

Thranduil scoffed lightly into his cup. "Old friend, indeed."

Y/N sat up straighter at the tone, the scoff. She had heard it many times. "Prince Durin has provided us with an excellent relationship over the years. He is a close friend to Rivendell."

Thranduil looked at her, through her, in her. Before her mind's eye flashed his face, poised over her, abed. Soft candlelight shone from beyond his features, and his face was softened into the loveliest of smiles. Gone in an instant.

Just then, lithe footsteps from just inside, and bursting from behind the curtains came three elven children, small and laughing. A maid reached out, trying to snatch them by their tunics, but too late. They sprinted into the circle, and straight up to Elrond.

"Father, we would like to go the Gates," one boy panted. Elrohir.

"Apologies, Father," the other interjected, suddenly serious. Elladan, his twin. "I told him not to come."

"Our swordmaster is at the Gates, and asked us to join him," the third explained. Y/N sat forward, staring down at the boys.

"Tathrenion," she said severely, hiding the quake to her voice, "you know not to enter this chamber when Lord Elrond is taking counsel."

The third boy, unlike the other two, with (Y/HC) hair and striking grey eyes, paled, bowing to Y/N. Even when he straightened, he kept his eyes averted. "Forgive me, Mother. Elladan and Elrohir wished to go, and I wished to accompany them."

It was only then, as the boys turned to glance around at the present company, that Elrond spoke.

"You are in the presence of Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood."

Shuffling, with a soft gasp from Elrohir, the three boys bowed low to the king. Thranduil said nothing for a moment. Instead of on the children, his eyes were pinned on Y/N, wide with unbridled shock. When he finally did look at the boys, at the one called Tathrenion, he found his own eyes staring back, steady and calm.

Thranduil stood abruptly, setting down his goblet. He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "We shall eat. Elrond, you shall decide what to do with your sons."

He swept off the dais, out of view, and Y/N was left staring at the spot he once occupied.

"Go after him," Elrond murmured to her, leaning close.

"Tathrenion-"

"Leave the child to me." And an unspoken promise to keep her son safe.

Y/N was up in an instant, following in Thranduil's wake as quickly as possible. But he was moving fast, and kept dodging out of sight, around corners that he did not know. Servants moved out of the way as Y/N passed through an adjoining kitchen at a sprint, intercepting Thranduil as he rounded the corner into the next room.

She caught him by his elbow as he tried to pull from her grasp, but she held firm.

"Thranduil," she said. "Stop. Just... Stop. And listen."

His rage made his jaw tight, his brows drawn low. "I will not stand here and listen to you when you have -"

"I had to leave," she interrupted, holding his gaze unflinchingly. "I could not be your concubine, Thranduil. I would not."

He scoffed, that same sound he made when he thought someone foolish. Beneath him. It hadn't started this way, but as they fell deeper into each other, he'd started scoffing at her the same way. It was part of what drove Y/N away from Mirkwood. "You were not a concubine, Y/N."

"Then tell me what I was to you."

Thranduil bent lower, so their faces were inches apart. "You know exactly what you were to me."

"I know that I was not your wife." And that was venom in her tone, sour and deadly.

A shadow passed over his features. "You were everything she was not."

"And that makes me whore to a king."

"You have never been a whore!" He shouted.

The surrounding house went quiet. Y/N trembled, fingertips numb.

"Tathrenion is your son," she said lowly, practically hissing into his mouth. "Your son, Thranduil. Our place in Rivendell is of your doing. You never recognized what it was to be in my place, with no guarantee of my safety in your court."

"I always would have protected the both of you."

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Our love felt increasingly fragile. I doubted that it even existed any longer. Had we been found out, I doubted you would protect me from exile."

Thranduil was quiet. The house had moved on from his sharp outburst, exhaling as his anger passed. Y/N's grip loosened on his tunic, her truth spoken. But her touch lingered.

"Did you know?" He murmured hoarsely.

"Not when I left your halls. Not until I reached the Misty Mountains."

"And all... went well? With the birth?"

Elven births were rare, and dangerous for mother and child. "Blessedly, Elrond's midwives and healers some of the most gifted, and I healed swiftly. He was born squalling."

He loosed a soft breath, and some of the tension left his features. He had always been beautiful, but it was when he was away from prying eyes that he truly became ethereal. Radiant. Himself.

"You should always have been in Mirkwood, with me." She just looked up at him. "I am sorry, my Y/N. I never meant to make you afraid."

"It is safer for both of us away from you and Legolas."

Thranduil snorted. "My son has proven impertinent. And lacking the character to succeed me."

"He will mature," she said softly. "He is young still."

"He will have to fight soon."

"Then this Necromancer..."

"Is a threat. Whatever darkness lurks in the south of my lands, it is dangerous and spreading."

"Tell Elrond," she urged. "He wishes to aid any fight against Morgoth's darkness in these lands."

"My forces are strong."

"They will be stronger with Rivendell's. Don't let your pride cloud your judgement."

At that, a small smile graced his mouth. "That has always been your advice for me."

"It will always stand. Unless you change."

"Would you come home?"

The question surprised her. "You would have us? So soon after the death of your wife?"

"I would have your company," he said. "And I would have my son raised by the both of us."

Y/N did not have an answer, and she was about to say as much when a smaller voice said, "I would like to go to Mirkwood."

Y/N whipped around, and found young Tathrenion standing behind them. She took a large step away from Thranduil, then lowered herself to her son's level, steeling herself.

"What did Lord Elrond tell you and the twins?" She asked.

"He said we may go to the Gates, but I decided to stay behind." Tathrenion peered past Y/N, to the Elvenking. "I wished to speak with you."

Thranduil could hardly stomach looking at his son's face, the very reflection of his own, untouched by age yet full of a strange wisdom. "Speak, child."

"I know little of why my mother left your kingdom, but I know she has done everything since for my sake. Please, do not ply her with false hopes. If you invite us to Mirkwood, you pledge to keep her safe."

"And you," Thranduil answered immediately. "I will protect you both, and welcome you into my household in places of honor."

Y/N was speechless, her throat swollen around pride for her young son.

"I know you not, Your Majesty, but I would like to," said Tathrenion simply.

Thranduil smiled.

Y/N sent him on his way, leaving her alone once again with the Elvenking. This time, he reached out to her, and against logic, she stepped into him, leaning into his fingers upon her cheek. She had longed for his touch, his kiss, his steadfastness ever since she left the forest. Leaving Mirkwood had been one of the hardest decisions of her long life.

"Let us think about this," she whispered. "And let these diplomatic matters be done first. Speak to Elrond in earnest."

"I will wait for your return to my side, Y/N," he murmured. "I have been waiting since the moment you left."

~~~

Dappled sunlight shone down upon the glade, lighting the page Y/N read. It was a letter, signed in Elrond's familiar hand, detailing the phalanxes marching towards Mirkwood. They would join Thranduil's army in patrolling for evil in the south, just as they had hoped.

Amongst the trees, a young boy laughed, and an older one hollered. Legolas was nearly fully mature, but had taken to playing with his younger half-brother in earnest. Together, they romped through the forest, and Tathrenion adored having someone elder to look up to and learn from. He excelled in archery, now, thanks to Legolas's tutelage.

A hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her backwards, and she fell upon Thranduil's chest. He was stretched upon the grass, feline at ease. She luxuriated in the feel of his body against hers, in his fingers in her unbound hair. In his mouth, pressed to her shoulder.

She had refused to take him to bed since her return, but she had begun to let him back into her heart. He had honored his word, and the loss of his wife had left him in need of comfort, in need of counsel and a tender hand.

Besides that, over honeywine in the candlelight one night in Rivendell, he had finally told her he loved her. Words were the playthings of elves, and though they meant little to some, they meant everything to Y/N. She opened up visions of the future that had ere been clouded.

"Of what do you think, my love?" Thranduil breathed against her skin.

She came back to the dampness of the grass beneath them, the golden green of the canopy above, the laughter of her son in the distance. The warmth of her king at her back.

She smiled. "Eternity."

[sunkissed-psyche]

THANATOS: AN INFODUMP

Thanatos (Θανατος) known to the romans as Mors is the god or daimon (personified spirit) of non-violent death. He is a chthonic deity residing in the underworld.

This post covers his family, symbols, notable myths, epithets, orphic hymn, and my favourite passages about him.

PARENTAGE AND SIBLINGS

His parentage and family can be understood through Hesiod’s Theogony (A Greek epic written in the 8th or 7th B.C)

And Nyx (Night) bare hateful Moros (Doom) and black Ker (Violent Death) and Thanatos (Death), and she bare Hypnos (Sleep) and the tribe of Oneiroi (Dreams). And again the goddess murky Nyx, though she lay with none, bare Momos (Blame) and painful Oizys (Misery), and the Hesperides . . . Also she bare the Moirai (Moirae, Fates) and the ruthless avenging Keres (Death-Fates) . . . Also deadly Nyx bare Nemesis (Envy) to afflict mortal men, and after her, Apate (Deceit) and Philotes (Friendship) and hateful Geras (Old Age) and hard-hearted Eris (Strife).

— Parents: Nyx with no father (Roman versions of his birth name Erebus the father)

— Siblings:

Apate (deceit)

Eris (strife)

Geras (old age)

Hesperides (nymphs of the evening)

Hypnos (sleep) Ker (violent death)

Keres (death-fates)

Moirai (fates)

Momos (blame)

Moros (doom)

Nemesis (retribution)

Oizys (misery)

Oneiroi (dreams)

Philotes (friendship)

SYMBOLS AND APPEARANCE

SYMBOLS

— inverted torch → represents a life being extinguished

— butterfly → symbolises the soul

— sword → indicates his authority to sever the thread of life

— poppies → as a symbol of eternal sleep

— wreath → suggesting eternity, or the cyclical nature of life and death

APPEARANCE

Greek vase paintings depicted him as a winged, older man with a beard and rarely as a young, beardless youth.

Roman sculptures portrayed him as a youth holding an inverted torch and a wreath or butterfly

NOTABLE MYTHS

— THANATOS AND THE BODY OF SARPEDON

As seen in the Iliad, Thanatos and Hypnos are tasked to carry the body of Sarpedon away from the battlefield to Lycia so his brothers and countrymen can give him a respectful burial.

Homer, Iliad 16. 453 ff (trans. Lattimore) (Greek epic C8th B.C.) : "[Hera speaks to Zeus about the approaching death of his son Sarpedon :] ‘But after the soul and the years of his life have left him [Sarpedon], then send Thanatos (Death) to carry him away, and Hypnos (Sleep), who is painless, until they come with him to the countryside of broad Lykia (Lycia) where his brothers and countrymen shall give him due burial with tomb and gravestone.’"

Homer, Iliad 16. 681 ff : "Then [Apollon] gave him [Sarpedon] into the charge of swift messengers to carry him, of Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death), who are twin brothers, and these two presently laid him down within the rich countryside of broad Lykia (Lycia)."

— THE CAPTURE OF THANATOS BY SISYPHUS

Sisyphus was the (possibly) founder and king of Corinth and was known as ‘the craftiest on men’ in texts by Homer. In the myth, Thanatos was sent to carry Sisyphus into the underworld. Upon Thanatos’ arrival, Sisyphus who was hiding chained him and in doing do, suspended death across the entire world. Thanatos was later freed by Ares who had noticed an absence of death from the battlefield

Alcaeus, Fragment 38a (trans. Campbell, Vol. Greek Lyric I) (Greek lyric C6th B.C.) : "King Sisyphos (Sisyphus), son of Aiolos (Aeolus), wisest of men, supposed that he was master of Thanatos (Death); but despite his cunning he crossed eddying Akheron (Acheron) twice at at fate's command."

Aeschylus, Sisyphus the Runaway (lost play) (Greek tragedy C5th B.C.) : Weir Smyth (L.C.L.) quotes from Pherecydes, a C5th B.C. mythographer, in his discussion of the plot of this lost play: "The drama was satyric; its theme, the escape from Haides of the crafty Korinthian king. According to the fabulous story told by Pherekydes (Frag. 78 in Müller,Fragmenta Historicum Graecorum) Sisyphos made known to Asopos that it was Zeus who had carried off his daughter Aigina; in punishment for which offence the god sent Thanatos (Death) against the babbler; but Sisyphos bound Thanatos (Death) fast, so that men ceased to die, until Ares came to the rescue, released Thanatos, and gave Sisyphos into his power."

— THANATOS WRESTLED BY HERACLES

In the Euripides, a Greek tragedy written in the 5th C B.C. Thanatos is wrestled by Heracles to save the life of Alkestis. Heracles does this to repay Admetos, Alklestis’

Euripides, Alcestis 839 ff : "Herakles : I must save this woman who has died so lately, bring Alkestis back to live in this house and pay Admetos all the kindness that I owe. I must go there [to the funeral at the graveside] and watch for Thanatos (Death) of the black robes (melampeplos), master of dead men (anax nekrôn), and I think I shall find him drinking the blood of slaughtered beasts beside the grave. Then, if I can break suddenly from my hiding place, catch him, and hold him in the circle of these arms, there is no way he will be able to break my hold on his bruised ribs, until he gives the woman up to me. But if I miss my quarry, if he does not come to the clotted offering, I must go down, I must ask Kore (Core, the Maiden) [Persephone] and the Master (Anax) [Haides] in the sunless homes of those below (domos anêlios)."

EPITHETS

Greek

- Paean -> the healing (delivers men from the pains and sorrows of life)

- Melampeplos -> of the black robes

- Anax Nekron -> master of dead men

English (these are ones I've derived from text so partial upg)

- insatiable

- dreadful/dreaded one

- awful god

- with a heart of iron

- without mercy

Latin

- Acherontis - inflicter of Acheron (woe)

ORPHIC HYMN

The Fumigation from Manna. Hear me, O Death [Thanatos], whose empire unconfined, extends to mortal tribes of every kind. On thee, the portion of our time depends, whose absence lengthens life, whose presence ends. Thy sleep perpetual bursts the vivid folds, by which the soul, attracting body holds: Common to all of every sex and age, for nought escapes thy all-destructive rage; Not youth itself thy clemency can gain, vigorous and strong, by thee untimely slain. In thee, the end of nature's works is known, in thee, all judgment is absolved alone: No suppliant arts thy dreadful rage control, no vows revoke the purpose of thy soul; O blessed power regard my ardent prayer, and human life to age abundant spare.

MY FAVOURITE MISC. COLLECTION OF TEXTS

Hesiod, Theogony 758 ff (trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C8th or C7th B.C.) : . . . These are Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death), dread divinities. Never upon them does Helios, the shining sun, cast the light of his eye-beams, neither when he goes up the sky nor comes down from it. One of these [Hypnos], across the earth and the wide sea-ridges, goes his way quietly back and forth, and is kind to mortals, but the heart of the other one [Thanatos] is iron, and brazen feelings without pity are inside his breast."

Aeschylus, Fragment 82 Niobe (from Stobaeus, Anthology 4. 51. 1) (trans. Weir Smyth) (Greek tragedy C5th B.C.) : "For, alone of gods, Thanatos (Death) loves not gifts; no, not by sacrifice, nor by libation, canst thou aught avail with him; he hath no altar nor hath he hymn of praise; from him, alone of gods, Peitho (Persuasion) stands aloof."

Aeschylus, Fragment 141 Philoctetes (from Stobaeus, Anthology 4. 52. 32) : "[The wounded Philoktetes (Philoctetes) laments :] ‘O Death (thanatos), the healer (paian), reject me not, but come! For thou alone art the mediciner of ills incurable, and no pain layeth hold on the dead.’"