#also!!!!! we should be drawing him with veils more often

[purpleguysimp]

Lankmann is just an 80s joey drew in my mind

[supernova2395]

Solas and Inaction

"Those fools and duty. Responsibility is not expertise. Action is not inherently superior to inaction."

I've seen a couple of posts now saying how, should Solas have just waited, his plan would have been done for him and things would have been better for him that way. However, I think that's a misreading of his character, and because everything would have been so much worse had Solas not acted.

The veil was tied to the evanuris, who were tied to the archdemons, who were being killed off one by one each blight. By acting when he did, Solas was trying to stop the inevitable descent into a blighted Thedas that he sacrificed everything to stop when he created the veil in the first place.

Solas painfully knows that the veil will fall after the 7th blight, that's part of why he's so motivated to get his plan done quickly. There is nothing Solas hates more than slavery and suffering, and there is little doubt that a blighted world would cause nothing but suffering.

Not only that, but those things are an issue in Thedas anyway, and the longer he waits, the more harm they cause.

But then, to truly see it through Solas' eyes, you need to take into account the effect the veil has on Thedas anyway:

It's physically (metaphysically??) in an awful state even before Origins. Practically everything thins the veil (death, particularly concentrated amounts of it, like battlefields, blood magic, normal magic in enough quantities, even just at random, like in the Frostback Basin) and that makes it more likely that spirits will be drawn through and, in most cases, corrupted.

There can be no true understanding between spirits and non-spirits because spirits are locked away, and only a select few can talk to them. But even then, spirits are a reflection of expectations, and the world teaches that they are all demons out to possess you. That they should be feared and banished, and because you're afraid of seeing a pride demon, you're more likely to see a pride demon.

Spirits should never have been separated from the world and although some are happy to simply dwell in the fade, others want to go to 'exotic Rivain', which they should have been able to, but the veil prevents them from doing so unless they possess someone. So many spirits do want to possess mages as a way to experience what they should have been able to anyway. Which also has the added effect of making mages a 'danger to society' because possessing someone will often corrupt the spirit (see the previous point) and cause both the spirit and mage to lose control.

To Solas, his options are:

Do nothing and let calamity take Thedas after the 7th Blight

Lock the Evanuris and Blight away in a new prison and leave the veil torn to shreds, spirits being corrupted and demonised (hah), mages ostracised, and hope it doesn't get worse (this assumes that locking them in their new prison wouldn't sever their ties to the veil or the veil wouldn't fall at some point anyway because of *gestures to everything*)

Lock the Evanuris and Blight away and bring down the veil in a somewhat controlled manner

And like I don't blame Solas for his plan, especially with the precarious position the Elves are in in Thedas. What was he supposed to do? Go to the powers that be and say:

"So, you see, elves originated from spirits (yes the ones you are constantly afraid of and demonise at every turn) and thousands of years ago we fought with the Titans because we used lyrium to make our bodies… and didn't realise we were hurting them until it was too late and they retaliated. Which, fair, but we did not want to die so I... inventedtranquilityandseveredthemfromtheirdreams. Which I regret, for obvious reasons, but at the time, saw no other way.

"Then it turns out the people I did that for declared themselves gods and started enslaving my people *and* continued mining the Titans for their lyrium, so I rebelled. Then they decided to draw on the power of the severed dreams to stomp out my rebellion and tortured those dreams until they created the blight, which they then used with abandon to make themselves more powerful, and when Mythal finally confronted them on it, they killed her.

"There was no way we were going to be able to stop them, as the first of my people do not simply die, so instead I tried to create a prison for them but I was not powerful enough to do it and accidentally severed the waking from the dreaming stranding countless in uthenera and killing countless more who got stuck in the passages in between.

"Then I fell asleep for millennia because of the power it took to defeat the Evanuris, but the world *was* saved from the blight… UNTIL YOUR MAGISTERS SCREWED EVERYTHING UP AND RELEASED THE BLIGHT ANYWAY cough sorry, and with each successive blight you have been killing those powering the veil, weakening it and meaning that it will fall and blight the world after the 7th blight. But also with every battle, the veil gets weaker and will probably fall at some point anyway… do you maybe want to help me avoid a complete catastrophe?"

I just don't see any way that would have ever gone over well, even if they could be convinced that what he was saying was true.

And, honestly, I truly don't think that (had BioWare been brave), bringing down the veil would have needed to be catastrophic, especially if they allowed the discussion about the veil and the harms it brings to actually be discussed in the game and not just shoved aside.

Mostly because the Frostback Basin exists: a place where the veil is naturally so thin that spirits can slip through without being corrupted, and a place where the locals live, not only in peace with them, but with them in an understanding not seen anywhere else in modern Thedas.

I'm sorry, but tying Solas to the veil will never not be deus ex machina to me, and I actually hate it narratively, especially with the build-up from the previous three games and extras. RIP Sandal and the fricken Chant of Light.

I just feel like there could have been a really compelling story that could easily have been within the confines of the game, especially if Veilguard had dealt with the "inevitability" of the veil coming down early and had that as the reason why the Inquisitor was not around.

Like, "Oh Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain are really focussed on Northern Thedas, that means that you in the South can be using your College of Enchanters and remnant circles to deal with the veil issue" and then you can confront Solas with Plan 2: Electric Boogaloo, "you don't need to destroy this world Solas" "I am glad to be proved wrong, my friend" as your redeem ending and "we can't let you do it your way, fuck you" as your hatred ending (fight him and incapacitate or kill him or lock him away with the blight idk 🤷🏻‍♀️). The veil comes down, but Thedas is saved. You’ve got your soft reboot, and don’t completely ignore parts of the lore from your previous games.

I'm going to stop ranting now, TL;DR: Something had to be done. I don't blame Solas for what he was doing, and BioWare should have been braver with their narrative.

[thewulf]

Teaching Trails || Azriel

Summary: Request - can i request a teacher reader x azriel where she's Nyx's teacher/tutor and feyre or rhysand asks az to pick him up since they're busy and he swears he falls in love on sight seeing reader be so sweet on Nyxie and how comfortable Nyx is around reader? just something sweet and fluffy and maybe a super nervous az when reader notices him at the doorway?? You can decide the rest. love your work!

A/N: Ahhhh I loved writing this. Idk I just picture Nyx as a sweet bubbly 5/6 year old in this. Adored writing this!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)

Word Count: 5.0k +

TW: Use of Magic (fluffy!!)

As you stand at the edge of one of the many expansive terraces of the House of Wind, the air around you is crisp, the sky a clear, deep blue above the sprawling city of Velaris below. This majestic residence is perched like an eagle's nest atop a solitary mountain and commands a breathtaking view of the Night Court. Its beauty a sure giveaway to ancient power and elegance. Yet despite its grandeur there’s a poignant isolation to it. Especially for young Nyx, whose days are spent within these walls that soar closer to the stars than to the streets where other children play.

Inside the palace is a labyrinth of ornate halls and vast chambers. Each room a masterpiece of art and architecture designed for gods rather than a playful child. The echo of Nyx’s laughter often bounces off the high ceilings. A reminder of the solitude that accompanies his royal upbringing. He is a small but vibrant figure roaming the endless corridors exploring shadowed corners and hidden nooks. His solitude veiled by the splendor surrounding him.

It's during one such quiet evening as the horizon painted a watercolor of twilight hues that Feyre brings up her growing concern to Rhysand. They are in their private chambers. A place where the masks of High Lord and Lady can be set aside. Where vulnerabilities can be voiced without the weight of a crown.

"Nyx needs more than just us. He needs more than this palace," Feyre starts with her voice steady yet filled with an urgency that draws Rhysand’s full attention. "He’s missing out on normal interactions. The kind that happen away from royal duties and ceremonial greetings. He’s a child. He should be learning through play, through friendships formed in mud and laughter. Not just in state rooms and formal gardens."

Rhysand’s expression is torn. As a father he yearns for Nyx to have every happiness the world can offer. But as a ruler the thought of his son, so precious and so exposed, wandering beyond the enchanted safety of their home is daunting. "It's dangerous, Feyre," he counters. His voice laced with a protective edge. "The world isn’t always kind, especially not to those of royal blood."

"But isn’t it more dangerous to raise him in a bubble? How will he learn to lead? To understand his people, if he only ever sees them from a balcony or at formal events?" Feyre’s hands gesture emphatically. Her eyes alight with passion. "We need to let him explore, Rhys. We need to let him be a child. Not just a prince." Their conversation stretches into the night. Debates entwined with silent contemplations until a resolution begins to dawn much like the first light over the Sidra. Rhysand’s fears don’t dissipate entirely but his love for Nyx and his trust in Feyre’s instincts lead him to a concession.

"Alright," he says finally. A reluctant smile breaking through his concerns. "We’ll find him a teacher. Someone who can guide him, teach him, yes, but also someone who can take him beyond these walls. Let him learn about life. About our people through his own experiences. Not just through stories and reports."

Feyre’s relief is palpable and together they set out to find the perfect candidate. The search is exhaustive with candidates from across Prythian and beyond interviewed. They seek not just an educator but a guardian of sorts. Someone who understands the delicate balance of nurturing a child like Nyx. Someone who can foster his curiosity and protect his spirit.

The search for a tutor for young Nyx was not a decision taken lightly. Within the ornate conference room of the House of Wind, Feyre, Rhysand, and other key members of the Inner Circle—save for Azriel, who was away on duty—gathered to commence the rigorous interview process. The room was filled with an air of solemnity as each candidate presented themselves. Their credentials scrutinized not just for academic excellence but for a deeper understanding and alignment with the values of the Night Court.

Mor, with her keen sense of people, led the questioning. Her bright eyes missing nothing. Cassian injected moments of levity lightening the mood with his humor. While Amren's piercing gaze seemed to delve into the very souls of the candidates searching for sincerity and resilience. Each member of the Inner Circle brought their own perspective ensuring that the chosen teacher would not only educate Nyx academically but would also nurture his emotional and cultural development.

Then you entered the room. With a demeanor both warm and composed you introduced yourself. As you spoke about your educational philosophy making sure to emphasize experiential learning and emotional intelligence the panel was visibly impressed. Your background in educational psychology coupled with your years of experience teaching in diverse environments highlighted your capability to adapt and thrive in any teaching scenario. More importantly your genuine passion for fostering young minds resonated deeply with Feyre who nodded appreciatively at your thoughtful answers.

Throughout the interview, your approach to education which focused on developing both the intellect and the heart of a student was clearly aligned with the Night Court's ideals. You spoke of the importance of understanding each student's unique needs and adapting lessons to fit those needs. Even suggesting outdoor classes and cultural excursions that would allow Nyx to learn about his heritage in a tangible, engaging way.

As the interviews concluded and the candidates departed the room buzzed with discussions. It was clear to everyone that you stood out not just for your qualifications but for the gentle strength you exhibited. A trait they all deemed perfect for handling the sensitive nature of their prince's education.

When the decision was made Feyre personally reached out to offer you the position. The joy and excitement in your voice as you accepted was palpable. Aware of the immense responsibility of teaching the heir of the Night Court you were nonetheless thrilled by the opportunity to make a significant impact in a young child's life.

As you prepared to step into this new role your heart was buoyant with anticipation. Not just for the challenges ahead but for the chance to contribute to shaping a future leader of the Night Court. The trust placed in you by such revered figures was not just an honor but a truth to your life's work and passion igniting a fervent desire to start this new chapter.

In the heart of Velaris away from the towering isolation of the House of Wind you spend a delightful morning with Nyx at one of the city's lush public gardens. The day is warm. The gentle buzz of the city a distant backdrop to the laughter and learning that fills the air around the two of you.

You laid out a picnic blanket under the shade of a towering silverleaf tree. The spread covered with books, sketchpads, and an assortment of colorful pencils. Today's lesson is about the flora and fauna of Prythian. A topic that has Nyx bubbling with excitement and curiosity. As he sketches a butterfly that landed briefly on the edge of your blanket you explain the role of pollinators in the ecosystem, delighted by his insightful questions and the meticulous care he takes with his drawing.

"Nyx, do you see how the colors of its wings can tell us about its environment?" you ask as you were pointing to the delicate patterns that mirror the blooms around you.

"Yes!" he exclaims. His eyes lighting up with understanding. "It’s like camouflage, right? They blend in to stay safe from predators!"

"Exactly," you reply. Your heart swelling with pride at his quick grasp of the concepts.

The lesson shifts seamlessly from science to history as you guide Nyx through the stories of the Night Court. Each tale woven into the landmarks visible from your spot in the garden. Nyx listens, rapt, as you tell him about the ancient fae who once walked these paths. The battles they fought and the peace that now thrives in their stead.

As the morning progresses Nyx's natural curiosity leads him to a question that makes you pause. His small voice tinged with genuine wonder. "Why don't you have wings like my mom, dad, Uncle Cassian and Uncle Az? Like that pretty butterfly?" he asks. His head tilting as he regards you thoughtfully.

You smile softly, touched by his innocent inquiry. "Well, not all fae have wings, Nyx. Just like not all flowers have thorns," you explain using an analogy you know he'll understand. "Each of us is unique with different abilities and gifts. It’s what makes us all special in our own way."

Nyx nods considering this. "I think it’s cool you don’t need wings to fly. You have books and stories that can take you anywhere," he decides with a wise look crossing his features that makes you chuckle.

"That’s a wonderful way to put it, Nyx. And remember, we all have our own ways of soaring," you say ruffling his hair affectionately.

As you begin to pack up the day's learning materials you lean closer to Nyx with a conspiratorial whisper. "Tomorrow, we’re going to do something special. We'll join a class with other children your age. You’ll get to play and learn together with them," you tell him watching his face light up with sheer delight.

"Really? I'll have friends to play with?" His voice is filled with excitement. His earlier thoughts about wings forgotten in the anticipation of meeting new friends.

"Absolutely," you assure him sharing in his excitement. "It’ll be a lot of fun and you’ll make lots of new friends."

Nyx's eyes sparkle with anticipation as he begins to imagine the possibilities. "I'm going to tell mom and dad all about it tonight!" he exclaims already planning out his evening conversation. "And I’ll tell Uncle Az too. He likes hearing about my adventures."

The mention of Azriel, whom you've only heard about through Nyx’s enthusiastic stories, adds an interesting layer to your perception of the mysterious figure. "That sounds like a great idea," you respond, amused, and intrigued by Nyx’s affectionate mention of his uncle. "It seems Uncle Az is quite the hero in your stories."

"Yeah! He’s really cool! He can disappear like a shadow and is always on secret missions," Nyx says. His admiration for Azriel evident in his wide eyes and animated gestures.

The day ends with Nyx bouncing along the path back to you classroom chatting animatedly about all the things he hopes to do with the other children. His excitement about sharing his upcoming school day with his family, especially with his beloved Uncle Az, whom you've yet to meet but feel like you already know through Nyx's tales, fills the air with joy.

Your heart warms at his enthusiasm knowing that these new experiences are exactly what he needs. As Nyx sketches another flower with his small hand moving confidently you know these moments of joy and anticipation are as precious to him as they are to you, nurturing not just a young prince’s mind but also his spirit. The connections he's building with his family, with you, and soon with his peers are shaping him into a thoughtful, well-rounded individual, ready to explore the world with confidence and curiosity.

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon casting a warm, golden light through the windows of your classroom the day's adventures wind down to a quieter, more reflective pace. You sit in a cozy corner of the room on a soft, plush cushioned area you've set up specifically for reading. Nyx nestles beside you as his energy from earlier now softened into the gentle tiredness of a day well spent. In your hands a beautifully illustrated book about the legends of Prythian opens to a page where the heroic deeds of ancient warriors are painted in vivid colors.

As you read aloud, your voice smooth and soothing, Nyx's eyelids begin to flutter gently. You notice his weary smile as he listens. The adventures of the day transforming into the adventures in the pages. Gently, almost instinctively, you begin to caress his hair. Smoothing it back from his forehead in a tender, rhythmic motion. It's a peaceful scene, the kind of simple, heartfelt moment that often goes unnoticed in the bustling life of the Night Court.

Unknown to you his Uncle Azriel stands at the doorway having arrived to pick up Nyx. He pauses there, a silent observer, taken aback by the tranquility and warmth of the tableau before him. His task had been simple. He was to retrieve Nyx and bring him home but the scene he encounters tugs at something deep within him. A longing for such unguarded peace.

Azriel watches as Nyx's breathing deepens, the sweet child drifting closer to sleep with each gentle brush of your hand. Your care for Nyx, so natural and affectionate, strikes a chord in Azriel. He's seen many facets of life. So many forms of relationships and bonds but the simplicity and purity of this moment resonate with him profoundly.

He remains there at the threshold hesitant to interrupt the moment. He was captivated by the gentleness of your interactions with Nyx. The world he usually inhabits—one of shadows and secrets—feels miles away from the soft warmth of this sunlit room. In this pause Azriel realizes that his task isn't just about escorting Nyx. It's about respecting and appreciating the sacred, everyday magic that people like you bring into Nyx's life.

Eventually though the story comes to an unfortunate end, and you close the book before looking down at Nyx to see him fully asleep. A contented expression on his young face. As you carefully consider how to wake him Azriel finally clears his throat softly announcing his presence.

You look up, startled slightly, your eyes meeting his for the first time. There's a moment of mutual acknowledgment. A silent appreciation for the scene he's just witnessed. An understanding that while your worlds may be different the care you show to Nyx bridges them beautifully. Azriel steps into the room. His movements gentle as he did not want to disturb the serene atmosphere you've created.

"Thank you for taking such good care of him," Azriel says quietly. His voice carrying a warmth that surprises even him. "He obviously treasures these moments with you."

"You're welcome. It's truly a pleasure teaching him," you reply with a warm smile. Your eyes reflecting genuine affection for Nyx.

As you gently wake Nyx his eyes flutter open gradually clearing as they adjust to the presence of another in the room. When he spots Azriel standing quietly by the door a bright, sleepy smile spreads across his face. He quickly scrambles to his feet, excitement replacing any remnants of sleepiness.

"Uncle Az!" Nyx exclaims. His voice filled with delight as he runs into Azriel's open arms. Azriel catches him effortlessly before lifting him into a warm hug. They share a moment, uncle and nephew reunited, their easy laughter filling the room. You grin recognizing him as the infamous Azriel in Nyx’s life.

Then as if struck by a sudden realization Nyx turns back towards you with a look of proud excitement lighting up his features. With a firm grip on Azriel's hand he pulls him closer to you and announces, "This is Miss Y/N, my favorite teacher ever!" His voice carries through the room filled with genuine admiration and joy.

Azriel's gaze shifts to you. A slight tension beneath his calm demeanor as he processes Nyx's enthusiastic introduction. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, his voice steady but softer than usual, a subtle undercurrent of nervousness mingling with his words.

You smile warmly, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard a lot about you, Azriel. Nyx tells me you're quite the hero," you say. Your tone light and inviting.

Azriel takes your hand and for a moment his usual composure falters under your gaze. He's momentarily taken aback not just by the warmth of your smile but by the unexpected impact of your presence. She's beautiful, he thinks, and kind... The realization that he's slightly awestruck surprises him. He finds himself momentarily lost for words.

"And I've heard you've been learning about heroes in your lessons with Nyx," he manages to say his voice carrying a hint of warmth that rarely surfaces. Nyx obviously pleased with the exchange claps his hands excitedly.

"Can we all walk back home together?" Nyx asks looking up at both of you with hopeful, bright eyes, “Please!” He adds in for good measure as if you weren’t going to immediately say yes to him.

"Of course, Nyx," Azriel responds after looking to you for confirmation.

You nod, gathering your belongings, and the three of you step out into the cool evening of Velaris. As you walk Nyx fills the air with chatter about his day seamlessly weaving together his two worlds with tales of butterflies and ancient warriors. Azriel listens with a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His initial nervousness easing as he's drawn into the simple joy of the moment. His thoughts linger on you, intrigued, and unexpectedly moved by the genuine connection forming between you, Nyx, and himself. A beautiful end to an enriching day.

As the three of you begin your walk back through the twilight streets of Velaris the usual calm that Azriel embodies seems to waver slightly. He is typically a figure of stoic composure, his presence both commanding and elusive shadowed by the mysteries of his duties as the Spymaster. However, today, as he walks beside you, something is distinctly different.

Azriel's steps are measured. His usual fluid grace tempered by a hint of uncertainty. His glances towards you are quick, almost cautious, as if he's trying to decipher an unfamiliar script. The conversation flows easily around Nyx's enthusiastic chatter about his day but each time you turn your attention directly to Azriel a subtle tension flickers across his features.

"You really have a wonderful way with Nyx," you say hoping to bridge the gap with kindness. "He's always so excited to share what he's learned with you."

Azriel nods. A slight flush visible beneath the dusky hue of his skin. "Thank you," he murmurs as his voice is softer than usual. "It's... it's good to see him so happy. You do a lot for him."

The simplicity of your interactions, the easy smiles and gentle teasing you offer to Nyx, resonate with Azriel in a way that is both heartening and unnerving. He's unaccustomed to feeling this way—unsettled yet drawn in, eager yet shy. His hands though normally steady and sure whether wielding a weapon or a shadow clench slightly at his sides betraying his internal struggle.

As Nyx runs ahead a little, bursting with energy as he recounts another part of his day, Azriel takes a moment to compose himself. He glances at you again. This time holding your gaze a moment longer than before. The vulnerability rarely seen by others is palpable now as it was a quiet admission of his nervousness.

"I'm... not usually this unsure," Azriel confesses quietly almost to himself. "But there's something about these moments…. seeing Nyx so at ease with you. It's more comforting than I anticipated."

Your response is a gentle smile, one that acknowledges his admission without pressing further. It's a smile that seems to say you understand that the quiet spaces between words can be filled with kindness, not just silence.

The rest of the walk continues with a softer ease. A budding respect forming amidst the shared glances and the fading light of day. Azriel's initial nervousness slowly ebbs away instead replaced by a quiet appreciation for the unexpected warmth this evening has brought into his usually guarded world.

As the three of you approach the grandeur of the House of Wind, the towering structure casts long shadows over the cobblestone paths. It’s presence as awe-inspiring as it is imposing. Nyx who was still bubbling with energy despite the day's adventures, rushes ahead. Clearly he was eager to recount his tales to Feyre and Rhysand. You pause at the entrance. The vast doors open as if welcoming back its prince.

"It's been a wonderful day, Nyx," you say, giving him a soft hug. "Don't forget to draw that butterfly we talked about!"

"I won't, Miss Y/N!" Nyx promises. His voice echoing slightly in the vast entryway. He turns and dashes inside as his laughter lingered in the air.

You turn to Azriel with a smile gracing your lips. "Thank you for letting me share part of your evening. I should head back home now."

Azriel’s expression shifts. Concern etching his features. "It’s getting late," he observes while glancing at the skies, now painted with the deep blues and purples of dusk. "Please, allow me to walk you back to your home. The streets can be less than forgiving at this hour."

You pause appreciating his concern but ready to reassure him of your safety. "That’s very kind of you, Azriel, but it’s no worry. I know these streets well," you say as you turned to make your way down the path.

Before you can take more than a few steps a subtle but firm presence stops you. Looking down you see one of Azriel’s shadows has stretched out across the path in front of you almost playfully barring your way. It's a gentle unspoken plea that catches you by surprise echoing Azriel’s silent wish for you not to go alone.

Azriel takes a step forward. His gaze earnest. "I would truly feel better if I could ensure your safe return. Please," he adds. A rare hint of vulnerability in his voice that you hadn't expected.

Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes and touched by his quiet insistence you nod to him with a smile spreading across your face. "Alright, Azriel, if it means that much to you then I’d welcome the company," you agree. The warmth in your tone matching the softness in his eyes.

"Thank you," he replies visibly relieved. He quickly steps inside to ensure Nyx is settled and returns to you with a more relaxed demeanor ready to accompany you.

As you and Azriel begin the walk back to your home the streets of Velaris are bathed in the gentle glow of the stars and softly lit lanterns casting an enchanting light over the cobblestones. The atmosphere lends a serene backdrop to the conversation that begins to unfold between you.

"You know, Nyx speaks so highly of you," you start by breaking the initial silence with a warm tone. "He's always so excited after spending time with you. You must have some exciting tales from your duties."

Azriel chuckles softly. A sound so serene that it seems to dance in the night air. "Nyx has a way of making everything sound more thrilling than it might actually be. But yes, there are times when my duties hold some... intrigue." He pause, as if weighing what to share. "Mostly, I'm just ensuring that the court and our lands are safe. It's not always as adventurous as Nyx might depict."

"And what about when you're not cloaked in shadows and mystery?" you ask genuinely curious about the man beside you beyond his role as the Spymaster.

A hint of surprise flickers across Azriel's face. Surprised yet pleased by the interest you’re showing in him. "I enjoy solitude, usually. Reading, training... Though I have a fondness for sword making. It’s a craft that requires precision and patience much like my usual work but with a more tangible, creative result."

"Sword making? That’s fascinating," you remark smiling at the thought. "It must be rewarding to create something so intricate and vital."

"It is," he agrees. His voice softening ever so slightly. "And what about you? What do you enjoy doing in your free time?"

You nod before reflecting on your simple pleasures. "I love hiking and just watching nature. There’s something peaceful about observing the natural world. Just seeing how it exists so beautifully without any need for interference."

The conversation flows naturally from there. The earlier apprehension melting into a mutual appreciation for each other’s hobbies and life outside of official duties. As you talk Azriel’s steps seem to synchronize with yours. His presence an incredibly comforting shadow by your side.

When you finally reach your doorstep the city around you has quieted even further. The only sounds being the distant murmur of the Night Court's nightlife and the gentle rustling of leaves. Azriel pauses, standing just a bit closer than before. His usually guarded demeanor dimmed under the starlight.

"Thank you for allowing me to walk you home," he says. His voice sincere and gentle as if reflecting the calmness of the evening.

"It was my pleasure," you respond, finding yourself reluctant to end the conversation. "I enjoyed our talk, Azriel. It’s nice to see the person behind the shadows."

He smiles. A true smile that reaches his eyes making them sparkle with a rare lightness. "I did as well. More than I expected. Perhaps we could do this again, maybe take a hike together?"

"I’d like that," you agree. Your heart light with the promise of future conversations, of shared paths both literal and metaphorical.

"Good night, Miss Y/N. Take care," Azriel says as he steps back ready to meld back into the shadows from which he came.

"Good night, Azriel. And thank you… for everything tonight," you call after him. A smile still playing on your lips as you watch him disappear into the night. The connection between you both stronger and sweeter for the shared walk under Velaris’ starlit sky.

In the days that follow Azriel finds himself inventing reasons to visit your classroom or accompany Nyx to his lessons more often than strictly necessary. Each visit, purportedly to check on Nyx’s educational progress or to discuss scheduling with you becomes a cherished opportunity for him to engage in brief, yet meaningful conversations with you.

Each encounter, ostensibly casual, subtly deepens his affection and admiration for you. He begins to notice the small details: the way your eyes light up when discussing a new teaching method, the gentle patience with which you guide Nyx through difficult lessons, and the enthusiasm that bubbles up when you talk about your nature hikes. Azriel who was typically reserved and composed finds himself drawn into your world of vibrant enthusiasm and heartfelt dedication.

One afternoon as Azriel stands somewhat hidden by the doorway of your classroom just like he did that first day he met you observes a particularly touching scene. Nyx, having mastered a particularly tricky spell, turns to you with a triumphant grin. You laugh, your joy as vivid as the sparkle in Nyx's eyes. He swears your laughter seems to light up the room.

Watching this Azriel feels a warmth spread through him. A warmth that has little to do with the sun filtering in through the windows. It’s in this simple, unguarded moment that he realizes his feelings for you have deepened beyond mere admiration. He's not just falling for your kindness towards Nyx but also for the genuine spirit and infectious joy you bring into every interaction.

As he steps away from the doorway with a thoughtful smile playing on his lips Azriel knows that what he feels is something profound and undeniable. Your spirit which was so vibrant and full of life calls to him in a way that no one else ever has. And as he walks away with his shadows trailing behind him he’s certain of one thing. He wants to explore where this connection might lead not just for Nyx's sake but for his own heart’s as well.

After ensuring that Nyx was safely back at the House of Wind you begin to make your way back towards your home. The day's light is waning casting long shadows that stretch across the cobblestone streets of Velaris, adding a mystical allure to the city’s evening charm.

As you step forward, the sound of your footsteps is a soft echo in the quieting city. You're lost in thought pondering the pleasant interaction with Nyx and looking forward to the solitude of your evening walk home. However, before you can get far you hear Azriel’s voice calling out from behind you.

“Wait, please!” His tone carries a blend of urgency and hesitation that halt’s you in your tracks.

You turn around surprised to see him approaching quickly. His usually composed demeanor replaced by a slight breathlessness. The shadows that always linger around him seem to pulse in sync with the heightened beat of his heart.

Azriel catches up to you. His expression earnest. “I just wanted to ask properly,” he starts, his voice steadying as he meets your gaze. “Would you join me for a hike this evening? There’s a trail not far from here that’s especially beautiful in the evening light. I think you’d really enjoy the views, and...” He pauses before taking a breath reassuring himself, “I would really enjoy the company.”

Your smile deepens, touched by his sincerity and the vulnerable way he presents his request. The softening of his features and the hopeful look in his eyes paint a picture of a man stepping beyond the shadows that define him.

“I would love to, Azriel,” you reply warmly. Your voice filled with genuine excitement. “It sounds like a perfect way to end the day.”

Relief washes over Azriel’s face. His usual stoic mask giving way to a rare, genuine smile. “Thank you,” he says as if a weight was lifting from his shoulders. “Shall we meet at the edge of the city in half an hour?”

“That sounds wonderful,” you agree already anticipating the quiet beauty of the trail and the shared moments ahead.

As you both part ways to prepare for the evening hike the anticipation of the upcoming adventure brings a new spring to your step. Azriel turns back once more watching you walk away, his heart lighter. He realizes just how much he’s looking forward to exploring not only the natural wonders of Velaris but also the potential of a new and blossoming relationship with you. The thought brings that rare and hopeful smile to his lips. One that he carries with him as he disappears into the shadows to ready himself for the evening.

ACOTAR Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lilah-asteria

[utilitycaster]

Apologies in advanced for the long ask, but i think it is telling that the sort of people who argued for Predathos to be released, and that the Prime Deities deserved to be killed, are the same type of people who would turn around and argue that Solas has a point and that the Veil should be rent open. Hilarious, considering that the talking points usually used to argue in favor of either one are at complete odds with the other.

Both fandoms are guilty of ripping characters agency away so that they can't be blamed (that wild take from a few weeks back that Solas' whole deal was that he was basically manipulated by Mythal into trying to take down the Veil vs. The arguement Bells Hells "had no choice" regarding their decisions in Predathos' lair), arguing that both parties goals is to "save the little people" and then not being able to actually put to words how their grand plans would actually help against systemic issues (also, in both situations, no one actually asked the "little people", who are portrayed as NOT being on board with either plan), and would rather risk a cataclysmic event to "change the status quo" (and feeling antagonistic towards storylines where people are doing that work to dismantle systems because it's "not enough"), it's just more of the same.

Both fandom groups having a history of not being able to handle anyone who does not share their opinion can't be a coincidence either.

Insanely, I also can imagine that if, say, Taliesin says something less than positive about Ashton during the upcoming wrap-up (and he very well might, considering his history, that he was likely playing with a similar theme that he has with many of his characters and never intended for Ashton to always be "right", but to have the assumption that they are "right" and putting a force of personality behind it and seeing what happens) that any diehard Ashton stans would immediately disavow Taliesin of having any understanding of the character a la how the DA devs obviously have no understanding of Solas (a character they wrote) because they made him a villain.

Anyway, you don't have to post or respond if you don't want to. Just wanted to vent to someone who understands the frustration, being in both fandoms, and how annoying it is to see this approach to interacting with media, but, if you have the time: what do you think draws this type of fan in? What about both these stories appeals to them? Why do they inspire such strong feelings?

Hi anon,

Re everything pre final paragraph, agreed. I mean, we've already seen this re: Taliesin saying, repeatedly, in character and out, that Molly is dead and Kingsley is a separate person and this is very much his intention, and people ignoring that. They may not disavow Taliesin but if they don't, they'll either decide secret messages are being sent to them via Morse code blinks or that others in the cast made him do it, or attack other fans who have absolutely no control over this.

I started writing out a very long and in-depth answer to what draws this fan in/why they like these stories, but I think it comes down to something much more simple. It’s not confined to Veilguard nor Campaign 3 by any means, but it certainly does exist there: To quote @burr-ell in conversation, “too many people want RPG to mean ‘im the specialest birthday boy and god's favorite princess and if you're mean to me i get to blow the whole building up’ and not like, playing a role in a game.” 

We are also very specifically talking about the responses to these works on Tumblr, and there is a specific culture here of "our modern world is uniquely awful and my life is harder than that of a medieval serf [it’s not] therefore the only valid response to bring about a better world is drastic and often violent complete destruction of the status quo without any interrogation of what specifically to keep and what to destroy [it’s not], but because anything less than perfect and rapid action is problematic [it’s not], doing things is bad [it's not], so I balance eternally in a space of miserably doing nothing and telling myself I am virtuous for doing so [they’re not]." It’s a uniquely ignorant, ahistoric, self-absorbed, and utterly ineffective mindset for achieving any material goals in the real world, which I do think is why they are so drawn to fictional options, where they can briefly escape this entirely self-imposed powerlessness without having to like, work on themselves as a person.

This leads to this idea that agency is something that only the most privileged have, so if you have agency, you are privileged and therefore bad unless you use it to prop up their belief that they're the most special birthday boy. And finally I think the immersive nature of RPGs attract people who really want to sink into and over-identify with a character, though again that’s not exclusive to fantasy nor RPGs.

And so: the world needs drastic change, but change has to come with someone with agency, which can only be the domain of privilege (old white man) but maybe a little bit other (elf) so that he Gets It. But he would have stuck to the Status Quo [which in this case is specifically the Veil and the Gods but not like. Other problems, because Status Quo is what these people use to mean Big Impossible Problem That Only The Specialest Birthday Boys Who Never Did Anything Else Before In Their Life Can Solve and not like. Tevene slavery or Dwendalian Imperialism] had he not experienced Trauma or Manipulation. This gives him a Motivation, and also, because Trauma or Manipulation confers Total Absolution by removing Personal Agency But Permitting Action, he is never to be questioned in his goals [Until it’s Critical Role Campaign 3 episode 119 and you realize with the sickening crunch of the single cell of your brain falling to the base of your skull that your pure as driven snow agencyless yet still battling the gods babies Bells Hells have suppressed the story of Aeor for apparently no effect other than to almost get Liliana killed; have just stopped Ludinus; done what he was going to do anyway, and come up with another answer after the gods gave them a bunch of presents and now suddenly they are such good people for saving the gods (that they themselves put at risk, because to not put them at risk is to perpetuate the status quo, and the gods are bad because Bells Hells specifically are not treated by the gods as their favorite princesses except they definitely are, at least compared to the common people whom they don’t talk to, and also the good thing to do about bad people is to suppress the story of what you think their crimes are; anyway how dare the people of Vasselheim not weep with gratitude and kiss their feet when Bells Hells point a nuke at their lives' purpose. Extremely rude of them.)]

In short a lot of people project onto/identify very strongly with a character or characters whom the narrative, deliberately (Veilguard) or who the fuck knows the intent (C3) portrays as selfish and entrenched in their own pain to the point that they see pain inflicted on others as not just a necessary evil in the pursuit of their goals, but also their birthright to relish in, as the specialest birthday boy who was denied this. And if you as a viewer are like huh! Solas (or Ashton, or Laudna, or Imogen) is being an asshole, then first off, you are DENYING THEM THEIR BIRTHRIGHT, OPPRESSOR and second off you are PERSONALLY ATTACKING THE TUMBLR USER WHO IDENTIFIES WITH THEM and therefore you are EVIL and ATTACKS ON YOU ARE JUSTIFIED and thus they can feel like they are tearing down the status quo of evil bnfs [arbitrary term for people who sometimes maintag a coherent argument these fans do not like that gets more notes than their post did] because they will never, ever, do anything in real life other than uphold the status quo through inaction and an inability to care about other people, and post online about how revolutionary they are while better people actually do the work.

[radioiaci]

|| @cannibalxroses || Hello, I would like to chime in on this since it seems to be a matter of uhhh public concern now and I think it's time I said something! Putting it under a read-more because it'll be a little lengthy. Know that I want this to be as respectful as possible and that I am not upset or mad or anything about anything that's been going on! I just have some opinions and context to provide.

I have not made it a secret that I feel as though my portrayal of Alastor is veering more steadily towards MLM/gay relationships. This is just something I've discovered over the course of writing him. Now, when I initially posted about it, I made it clear that this does not mean that I wanted to outright dissolve or otherwise write off ships with female characters!

But in a similar vein to how literally every interaction with him is under the veil of his aro/ace experience, so too would every interaction be colored by the fact that he is starting to prefer men. This can lead to some VERY interesting conflict and nuance as these are all topics that I LOVE to explore via his inner monologue. And he is NOT ALWAYS going to make SMART or FAIR decisions to his partners as a result; both men and women. And I think that's a perfectly great way to explore lots of pathways for a ship. (All of his ships in general are never going to be 100% healthy. Alastor is a jealous, possessive, violent, and often emotionally DEAD individual.)

In this verse in particular, he cares about Rosie and does love her. He has explored sexual relations with her on a few occasions and he didn't dislike them (he, in fact, enjoyed them, given the context) - but I will say that outright, he is hard pressed to consider himself attracted to her as a default. This is ALSO coupled with the fact that Alastor - IN ALL of his relationships - has a very hard time getting his libido to react. It requires some specific parameters that can sometimes be a lot of work. And sexual interactions may not always be reciprocated or go as planned.

WITH THAT CONTEXT IN MIND:

Prior to the Unholy Crusade event, I was of an understanding that we could absolutely continue having he and Rosie be together and be married. I think that is an interesting plot point for him to have to cope with his sexuality (as well as the torch he still holds for Vox) in a married/committed relationship with a woman; particularly a woman who he very much cherishes still.

BUT - I know that when I get into those topics, I get VERY WORDY. I get VERY NOVELLA in my responses and that is not everyone's cup of tea. It was my understanding that, over time, some of Xixi's interest in those types of posts began to wane or she otherwise started to prefer short, sillier interactions with other characters, WHICH IS 100% OKAY AND FINE AND I HARBOR NO ILL WILL TOWARDS ANYONE INVOLVED, XIXI INCLUDED. Everyone is allowed to cater their experience in the way that makes sense to them and their character! But that is the impression I received.

However, in all honesty, when my long para replies are met with much shorter responses, I do get a little sad. And I know that not everyone gets as wordy as me, so really, it's just my bad for assuming that people WANTED to read/respond to that kind of thing in kind (I should have asked probably) but because of that, I started to draw back a bit because the effort and interest didn't quite seem to be on the same page.

So when Xixi proposed the death of Rosie and the end to the ship as a whole I was a bit taken aback, especially since we had spoken at least once after I made the initial post about Al's MLM sexuality and it seemed like it would be an okay thing to continue with. BUT I also know that Rosie's character does really like romance, affection, etc. and things that Alastor is not always fantastic at showing. So even though I was a little bit down about that being the inevitable conclusion (and it did, admittedly, make my participation in the event feel a bit moot which it was already sort of scant because I've been busy and can't always keep up with those quick timed events, as I've expressed before), I understood that it was what Xixi wanted for the character and for the ship and I do not fault her for it!

I did wish, at the time, that maybe it had been brought up to me beforehand, but I know events move quick, things can come up and happen, and I'm not gonna fault someone for that either.

Ultimately, I decided I was okay with it. I chatted with a pal and decided that with a little bit of their input I could write a nice little ending to Alastor's story in that verse so that I still felt like I had a bit of agency in how he continues on after that, even if we weren't necessarily going to play in that verse anymore. I like to have control of my characters and their eventual fates, so it made me feel better in an otherwise unfortunate situation.

But now that the plan B is being proposed, I really don't want it to seem as though I hate the ship/wanted it to end/am committed to ruining it out of spite. I think I'd just like to commit to what was proposed to me because I've already planned out how I would like to end that story and I don't want to put pressure on Xixi (or myself) to try and match up our writing styles or interest levels when it does not seem as though we're able to provide what we're each looking for in a ship between Rosie/Alastor.

All that to say that I am sort of sold on completing that story for Alastor in one way or another, but that does not mean that I hate radiorose, nor that I harbor any sore feelings towards Xixi. Nor do I have any disdain for her writing style whatsoever! I think it's great and if there is any future indication that our styles can jive together again, I'd be open to it.

But at this time, it just seems like it's better for the ship to meet a conclusion.

I HOPE THAT PROVIDES CONTEXT AND INSIGHT as to my decision making here. I really do not want it to seem as though I'm purposefully sabotaging their ship when I just sort of want to commit to what was initially proposed.

I hope that makes sense. I don't often go at length about these kinds of things, but since people were concerned, I wanted to make myself clear.

ANYWAY.

[shyfurby]

sending you Sellen for the asking game ✨️

Favorite thing about character:

I mean aside from being a huge baddie I love the confidence and mystique that veils her hubris. She's written so well to keep you strung along, making you expect she'll be harsh and rude but then being nothing but encouraging and "honest". Her praise and thankfulness and constantly telling you you've made her happy or proud when compared to every other NPC is so poignant and clearly worked to make people feel they had a nice relationship with her. They made her allure so clear and it's easy to tell how she was able to lead so many scholars to their death despite it all coming off as her warming up to you and respecting you.

Love that she's also like, "Ugh. Seluvis. Didn't want to hear about that guy again"

I like that she seemingly just pushes Rennala aside in the library. That's a big woman. Did she do that all by herself?

Least favorite thing:

Weird rendered, overly sexy anime drawings of her that I see on Twitter.

Headcanon:

I feel like she had all of her peers and most of her professors completely won over except for Rennala. Like I truly think all of them were eating out of her hand until the end and Rellanas ascension to headmaster is what did her in hence her extreme dislike of the Carians.

Brotp:

I like the one sided tarnished thinking they're her bro kinda thing.

Alternatively the Brotp is my int tarnished and her just both sitting there as orbs at the end. They don't speak but their crystals are charging. Every so often one of them just makes an uncomfortable little noise. It's parallel play.

Otp:

I want to see some Sellen toxic yuri. I have nothing more to say on the matter.

Notp:

Feel like I've seen her shipped with Seluvis. When it comes to Seluvis I want evil old many yaoi or nothing. He's got a doll of her in his room. Don't give him the shipping satisfaction.

Unpopular opinion:

I have to be honest I don't engage in Sellen discourse to know what's unpopular. I do not think she had good intentions for you though. I don't think she could be wifed up. Genuinely it seems like we are being shown exactly how she rose to such respect in the academy in the first place and her banishment in a lot of ways saved her and she learned nothing from it.

Quote:

"Splendid. I thank you. This pleases me. It's been far too long since I found a fellow kindred spirit. You must have a fabulous teacher."

Love that she's a little cheeky, but oh boy does she know how to get what she wants

Song:

I think a lot of Blood Ceremony songs have Sellen vibes. Morning of the Magicians is a good one, but a lot have heretical witch motifs

Pic

Is this my favorite? No but she's an NPC who stands there and I just redid this part of the quest and Idk this is just funny to me. Her arms look so ragdolled. Like it's a "toss the Muppet" pose. Mixed with the face that can't show any emotion. I know she's going through it but with the mask on its just goofy to me. Why did they leave the helmet on for this bit? In hindsight I really think they should have taken it off...

[snek-eyes]

Hello! What do you mean that Crowley is cold in the flashback with Job? Like, in a mean way? I always found he acts a little cool and demonic to keep up the charade knowing him acting demonic and uncaring will better veil the fact that he didn't kill the goats and doesn't intend to harm the kids since we know he'll be in big trouble if anyone finds out. And he knows everything will be fine, and that the kids won't get hurt and that the animals are safe as well so I figure that's a big factor in him seeming so cool/lacking compassion in the scene with Sitis. It reminded me a little of the scene in S1 where he turns the paintball guns into real ones and acts all cool and careless about it until begrudgingly admitting that nobody gets shot 🤔

Oh! And I forgot to add: the cool, rather uncaring demeanour Crowley has with Sitis is the same he first has with Aziraphale when he "kills" the goats and when he tells him he longs to destroy Job's blameless children. Until he realizes Aziraphale isn't on Heaven's side with this. Anyways, sorry for the ramble and I love reading your meta!

(re: this post)

Hi there! Never any need to apologize for rambling to me, discussions like this are fun, and you are drawing some very good points. And it gives me an excuse to put more thought into this!

To clarify, by "cold" I'm not saying Crowley's being mean, but he's definitely not being nice. Crowley is a "kind but not nice" big picture kinda guy, and he's got a lot of plates to be juggling here.

This is the one real time we see Crowley "at work." Like you said, acting as a demon. But not the bwahaha type of demon Aziraphale keeps bringing up with his 'avaunt!' and 'I bring a warning!' over-the-top angel shtick.

Crowley's got a wall up, by necessity. He comes across sort of... aloof and impatient, verging on condescending at points. He's steering this interaction by his plan and can't be stopped by how these people are suffering in the meantime.

And yet he's doing all he is with Job's family because he cares. Crowley thinks it's not fair that Job's being put through this, that God still has Sitis's faith even now. How much of that is the specific situation in front of him, and how much is him projecting his own trauma isn't exactly clear and I think kind of irrelevant. They're both at play. Crowley I'm sure would love to pretend he doesn't care about either.

But these humans are simultaneously A) in his way and B) not at fault. Crowley is a big picture guy: He does his best work on a large scale, he's fond of humans in general but they're often too much for him one on one. He'll support sacrificing one life to save the whole world (And yet, he won't personally pull the trigger) (But he will get frustrated when Aziraphale won't either)

Basically, Crowley can be frustrated by individuals enough to not be comforting while they're upset, to turn them into newts, etc. while also able to see on the broader scale that being annoying to him personally isn't reason enough to deserve truly awful things. Also there's some element of not wanting to let himself get attached because if he cares he will care.

That's a fascinating character trait, especially when you contrast him with Aziraphale who also has a big heart, but often gets distracted by that big picture of how things Should be.

I have more to say about your second message, because I actually think there's an important difference in his attitude with Sitis & Job vs how he's confronting Aziraphale there. But I've been turning this part over for long enough, so I'll release it into the wild.

[urtrickster]

markate thoughts i am poorly compiling into this post

gone gone gone markate is real and it's so sweet and sad and bittersweet and just mark and kate being so soso in love with each other and mark continuing to love kate long after she dies at the murder castle. i could write a fic for this if i were brave enough

tunnels au. remember that? i had a thought of mark and erin swapping places w jamie and kate nd being the ones to survive that night and just. kate dying in mark's arms as he begs her to stay awake. they had only just made up with each other, finally back together. it can't end here, it can't. but it does, with kate sacrificing herself to make sure mark made it out alive.

not really a thought just. sometimes i listen to the boy who could fly and it'll. just. 'i guess i never should have loved you, but i do forever 'cause you love me' + 'if you were gonna leave this world, how could it be without me?' + 'now it's all over my tongue and it still has no taste, 'cause without you, there is no me' markate.

imagine kate surviving and mark dying. imagine, in her grief, kate continuously dreams of mark. imagine dream mark trying to help kate move on. imagine it.

dark mermaid aus r where it's at just mark nearly fuckin drowning in the ocean after trying to take some nice photos only to be saved by mermaid kate and kate is like 'well i was going to eat you but you looked all scared and worried over that weird box of yours being in the water and it made me curious so im letting you live for now' and mark is like 'what the fuck' and then they fall in love

werewolf kate vampire mark that's it that's the thought

just a cute domestic scene of markate staying in for the day and existing together. mark occasionally taking a photo of kate here and there because he just can't help himself. kate asking mark for advice on scripts.

u know what fuck it kate can draw really really well and i think she likes drawing mark. mark takes photos of her and kate sketches him out.

sometimes i like to imagine that mark can play the acoustic guitar, y'know? so i'll sometimes just picture him absently playing the guitar while kate sits with him and just listens. doesn't matter what he's playing, she just sits there and admires him while he plays.

mark and kate still broken up but still very aware of each other's habits and preferences so well that whenever someone else needs to get something for one of them, they go to the other for advice.

markate the 30th by billie eilish.

but also markate i don't care if you're contagious by pierce the veil. yeah.

more on werewolf kate vampire mark. everyone literally everyone expects their roles to be swapped and are Very surprised when they see mark sipping on a blood bag with a massive fucking werewolf just chilling next to him.

kate having a nightmare. her and mark aren't together anymore but she still finds herself calling mark for comfort because hearing his voice always calms her down. mark always answers, and the moment he hears her voice he's dropping everything and showing up at her apartment in the middle of the night w some food and some shitty romcoms

markate at jerin's wedding and kate catches the bouquet.

okay now picture an au where tdim doesn't happen and markate didn't know each other. picture kate having a cute adorable little chihuahua that she takes to the dog park every week. imagine mark being at the dog park as well w connie. the chihuahua and connie become best friends which in turn means mark and kate see each other often and get to know each other. the dogs are matchmakers is what im saying.

i think mark and kate have 100% pretended to be a married couple for one reason or another. we don't know what happened in topeka. anything we want could've happened in topeka.

mark 100% teaches himself about crystals and shit and he 100% buys kate crystals bc the way her eyes light up and the smile on her face when he does is all worth it

me and kearney once talked abt mark having a youtube channel where he mostly talked about cameras and photography but occasionally played a game here and there w jamie and i just imagine kate being his number one fan that's all.

i actually think markate would thrive in a zombie apocalypse. don't ask where this came from im listening to speed by atari teenage riot and it made me think of zombies bc of lollipop chainsaw it's a whole thing anyways yeah markate zombie apocalypse au

uhhhh that's all i can think about rn.

[wisdomrays]

THE MOST EXALTED PURPOSE AND THE FEELING OF CURIOSITY: Part 1

Question: In our time, the feeling of curiosity is often directed toward daily news, political polemics, or the lives of celebrities. What is the Divine wisdom behind equipping humanity with this feeling?

The feeling of curiosity is an important factor that triggers a thirst for knowledge and a zeal for exploring other lives. One should use such an important dynamic for the sake of an exalted and noble ideal. What can be the most exalted ideal for a person? I think the most important ideal is to recognize and know the Almighty One, Who brought us into existence from nothing, Who rendered us the most honorable one among all of creation, Who laid this world before us as a corridor to Paradise, Who beautified the universe with manifestations of the Divine Names as an arable field for the Hereafter, Who sent us perfectly dependable guides to let us see beyond the veil and the truth of everything. For this reason, one must prepare for a lifetime of curiosity, using it to seek to know the Divine Essence as best as one can, beyond all forms and measures.

The divine essence is absolutely beyond comprehension

At this point, one statement of God’s Messenger is an important criterion for us: “Reflect on God Almighty’s works of blessings and power! But do not ever attempt to reflect on the Divine Essence, for that issue transcends human conception.” Some people may have sensed and felt certain things related to the Divine Essence, in accordance with the immensity of their conscience and depth of their feelings and senses. However, these truths cannot be generalized for everyone. For this reason, what befalls on believers is to comply with the limit set by the Pride of Humanity, peace and blessings be upon him, and circulate within the sphere of Divine Names and Attributes. The Qur’an also points out this fact: “Eyes comprehend Him not, but He comprehends all eyes” (al-An’am 6:103). The Divine Essence transcends everything and it cannot be comprehended; something that absolutely encompasses everything cannot at the same time be encompassed by cognition. Given that He is the One that encompasses everything; the ones encompassed cannot encompass the One that encompasses. For this reason, people need to be aware of what they can know, to what extent, and how they should know, and then try to learn what they can within the allowed fields.

Gaining knowledge leads to loving Him, and the more seekers love Him, the more they wish to know about Him. He also draws attention to this lofty truth, which is the real purpose of human existence, through the following words: “Belief in God is creation’s highest aim and most sublime result, and humanity’s most exalted rank is knowledge of Him. The most radiant happiness and sweetest bounty for jinn and humanity is love of God contained within knowledge of God. The human spirit’s purest joy and the human heart’s sheerest delight is spiritual ecstasy contained within love of God” Here, in addition to asking for knowledge and love of God, Bediüzzaman refers to spiritual ecstasy or delight as an objective. But if you wish, you can ask for it to be spared for the afterlife, as well. However, it should be known that spiritual delight is not something to be dismissed. Who knows, when spiritual delight is manifested within, you will perhaps ask for more and feel eager to make deeper quests.

If we can know God Almighty in such an immensity of knowledge, I think we will plan our lives accordingly, always try to walk in that direction, and will hardly be able to contain ourselves with the enthusiasm of making others feel what we experienced. I guess a similar immensity and depth of knowing God lay behind the relevant zeal and enthusiasm of the Companions of the noble Prophet and the Apostles of Jesus. They knew God so well, felt and sensed Him very well in their consciences, and thus their faith continued to deepen. As a consequence, this provoked such an enthusiasm in them that they maintained a spiritual vigilance with the consideration of “We should mention about the All-Holy Who manifests Himself all the time.” In addition to faith in God, as believers get to gain insight into other articles of faith and essentials of religion with their true nature, they will begin to feel a deep interest in them. For example, when one feels curious about the worth of the Prince of both worlds in the sight of God, and what the message he brought stands for within humanity, then that person sets about to know the noble Prophet in the way he should be known. Thus knowing more about him evokes further love and respect for him. In time, the journeyer virtually witnesses the blessed Prophet as a guide who shows the way regarding everything. Deepening the essentials of faith and religion helps us better know their beauties, and allows our nature to conform to them. A person who feels all of these in their conscience will not be able to help but say, “My God, we are infinitely indebted to You! It is so glad that You enabled us—in spite of our own narrowness—to recognize and know You and Your Messenger. You have bestowed us the blessing of Islam, which is so crucial for our lives, and which helps us gain proximity to You. My God, thousands of praises and glory be to You! Then like his journeyer through the universe in “The Supreme Sign,” he or she will ask for more and try to dig a bit further into the ground of knowledge of God. If you stand beside a well and set about drawing up water from it, I think the water will come out more as you draw more. As the water of the well gushes forth, it will spur up your enthusiasm to draw more. So you feel excited every time, with an insatiable zeal, and become an “asker for more.”

[hypothewes]

25, 35, 45

character development questions: hard mode

25. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?

Pretty quick, due to the circumstances he grew up in. It's common to see dirtied families dressed in rags and clinging to one another, begging for some kind of help from somebody, anybody. It's also common for it to end up being a farce. For every chance you take to be selfless you're also risking getting knocked out and waking up robbed blind...and that's the best case scenario.

That being said, Wes is kinder on average than your average desert scavenger, in part due to getting hired in such a high position and having faith in his skills to worm his way out of a bad situation. That doesn't mean he's naïve though.

Because of this, there's generally a belief that lingers in the back of his mind at all times that anyone is capable of betraying him, no matter how close he gets to them, no matter how heroic their intentions are. (Similarly, he applies this to himself with other people. It's the name of the game.) So there's always that lingering distrust—but he isn't immune to the disappointment and upset that follows when being betrayed by someone you do trust. When that does happen, he'll find himself slipping back into a defeatist 'well, that's just what happens' mindset to cope. He has an image he'd like to portray and there are things that must be done, so it just gets repressed and he's back to acting how he usually does.

35. How does your character behave around people they like?

Wes often dislikes sharing the more gruesome details of his life with strangers. It's a sign of weakness and he's used to thinking that everyone's gone through their own just as bad shit, so talking about it is feels like wallowing in the mud in the same spot for hours. This is all to say that when he does like someone enough to open up to them, these are the things about his life that he lets them glimpse at. Less in a 'my life sucks so bad bro it's so bad' and more 'life sucks, doesn't it! Let's go get a waffle' way.

Likewise, he's more prone to talking about his interests, particularly those that draw his curiosity. He doesn't really have a regard for boundaries in this sense and will openly speculate on other people, like the way their body may work in regards to the magically & sci-fi inclined. He'd get along well with a gossip because of this, I imagine. Or the mundane things he notices that he doesn't usually talk about out loud, like how even though the floor looks completely uniform you can tell this portion was replaced with limestone later on because of xyz factors.

Overall, same Wes, but he'll let you peek past the veil a bit.

45. What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

Nothing! The cold uncaring oblivion comes for us all... So you should make do with what you've got now! In a way, it's to cope with how his life turned out. He has a very complicated relationship with death; he's afraid of it, but he's accepted the inevitability of it. His belief that nothing happens after death is due to his scientific inclinations and because he takes comfort in the idea of being 'free' of all of your obligations, but this is similarly why he's afraid of it, especially over the idea of it happening too soon.

Despite this, he's still very much human; in his more desperate moments, he'll send a prayer out to a god he doesn't even think exists to comfort himself with the illusion of his voice being heard. :-)

[struckbylightningorsomething]

But even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing, - 2 Corinthians 4:3

Commentary by St. John Chrysostom

But if our Gospel is veiled, it is veiled in them that are lost; in whom the God of this world has blinded the eyes of the unbelieving.

As he said also before, To some a savor from death unto death, to others a savor from life unto life, 2 Corinthians 2:16 so he says here too. But what is the God of this world? Those that are infected with Marcion's notions , affirm that this is said of the Creator, the just only, and not good; for they say that there is a certain God, just and not good. But the Manichees say that the devil is here intended, desiring from this passage to introduce another creator of the world besides the True One, very senselessly. For the Scripture uses often to employ the term God, not in regard of the dignity of that so designated, but of the weakness of those in subjection to it; as when it calls Mammon lord, and the belly god. But neither is the belly therefore God, nor Mammon Lord, save only of those who bow down themselves to them. But we assert of this passage that it is spoken neither of the devil nor of another creator, but of the God of the Universe, and that it is to be read thus; God has blinded the minds of the unbelievers of this world. For the world to come has no unbelievers; but the present only. But if any one should read it even otherwise, as, for instance, the God of this world; neither does this afford any handle, for this does not show Him to be the God of this world only. For He is called the God of Heaven, Psalm 136:26, etc. yet is He not the God of Heaven only; and we say, 'God of the present day;' yet we say this not as limiting His power to it alone. And moreover He is called the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob; Exodus 3:6, etc. and yet He is not the God of them alone. And one may find many other like testimonies in the Scriptures. How then has He blinded them? Not by working unto this end; away with the thought! But by suffering and allowing it. For it is usual with the Scripture so to speak, as when it says, God gave them up unto a reprobate mind. For when they themselves first disbelieved, and rendered themselves unworthy to see the mysteries; He Himself also thereafter permitted it. But what did it behoove Him to do? To draw them by force, and reveal to those who would not see? But so they would have despised the more, and would not have seen either. Wherefore also he added,

That the light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ should not dawn upon them.

Not that they might disbelieve in God, but that unbelief might not see what are the things within, as also He enjoined us, commanding not to cast the pearls before the swine. Matthew 7:6 For had He revealed even to those who disbelieve, their disease would have been the rather aggravated. For if one compel a man laboring under ophthalmia to look at the sunbeams, he the rather increases his infirmity. Therefore the physicians even shut them up in darkness, so as not to aggravate their disorder. So then here also we must consider that these persons indeed became unbelievers of themselves, but having become so, they no longer saw the secret things of the Gospel, God thenceforth excluding its beams from them. As also he said to the disciples, Therefore I speak unto them in proverbs , Matthew 13:13 because hearing they hear not. But what I say may also become clearer by an example; suppose a Greek, accounting our religion to be fables. This man then, how will he be more advantaged? By going in and seeing the mysteries, or by remaining without? Therefore he says, That the light should not dawn upon them, still dwelling on the history of Moses. For what happened to the Jews in his case, this happens to all unbelievers in the case of the Gospel. And what is that which is overshadowed, and which is not illuminated unto them? Hear him saying, That the light of the glorious Gospel of Christ who is the Image of God, should not dawn upon them. Namely, that the Cross is the salvation of the world, and His glory; that this Crucified One himself is about to come with much splendor; all the other things, those present, those to come, those seen, those not seen, the unspeakable splendor of the things looked for. Therefore also he said, dawn, that you may not look for the whole here, for that which is [here] given is only, as it were, a little dawning of the Spirit. Therefore, also above as indicating this, he spoke of savor; 2 Corinthians 2:16 and again, earnest, 2 Corinthians 1:25 showing that the greater part remains there. But nevertheless all these things have been hidden from them; but had been hidden because they disbelieved first. Then to show that they are not only ignorant of the Glory of Christ, but of the Father's also, since they know not His, he added, Who is the Image of God? For do not halt at Christ only. For as by Him you see the Father, so if you are ignorant of His Glory, neither will you know the Father's.

- John Chrysostom

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[toads-n-moss]

gonna ramble about the no dl6 au again because i need to talk about the symbolism of the masquerade outfits.

(also lil announcement/question at the end :3)

first of all, the masks

let's start with phoenix's. while many of the masks are not accurate to the actual animals colors, this one i tried to stay close to the original colors.

phoenix's mask is that of a dove. more specifically, a mourning dove.

if you are visited by a mourning dove, it is meant to symbolize the visitation of a deceased love one. it symbolizes a message of hope and emcouragement from the loved one.

phoenix's mask essentially represents his old self, the version of him from chapter 1. but that version of him is dead, and a new version of himself has taken his place. but the mask is still a message of hope to miles. a message that phoenix is still there underneath the prosecutor veil.

next we got franziska's.

her mask is that of a lamb. lambs are often symbols of purity and innocence, but that's not the message i wanted to convey. what else are lambs symbolic of?

sacrifice. blind followers.

at this point in the story, franziska (alongside phoenix) is still a blind follower to manfred. while both of them begin to have their doubts against him, they'd never dare to say anything.

the ideals and behaviors of what a von karma should be are so deeply woven into franziska's identity, that she ends up sacrificing who she really is. the fact that the mask completely hides her eyes just emphasizes the blind follower aspect.

next up is miles' mask.

miles' mask is that of a raven. while ravens usually symbolize death or the warning of death to come, ravens can also symbolize grief and mourning in literature.

for the five years between chapters one and two, miles mourned phoenix as if he were dead, even though he was simply just missing.

the red on the mask, while mainly is just there to complement the outfit and make it stand out, also represents something important. after phoenix was attacked in thorns of the turnabout, miles felt constantly guilty for being unable to save phoenix. he feels that the blood is on his hands now.

but the symbolism doesn't stop at the masks!!

phoenix's corset and cuffs

his cuffs are of course meant to resemble the sleeves of franziska's canon outfit.

but the corset... ohhh the corset. phoenix's mask is a bird, which birds typically symbolize freedom. but his corset resembles a birdcage. trapped without even realizing it, his wings clipped and his freedom taken away.

but...

someone has the key to his freedom.

now time for the question :D!!

if i were to open up a Q+A for this au, would yall be down to ask things? these questions could be about character designs or story elements or case details or just silly headcanons. i may respond in text or art form, depending on the question asked :D!!

i will not be offended if you say no btw! /gen. i just want to make sure i know how much time i should dedicate to the asks without drawing too much of my attention away from main storybuilding posts and finished art pieces.

[thunderpot]

I'm sure there must be something like this somewhere, but here I am throwing this idea on the wind anyway (ya'll are free to use it if you ever wish to!)

AU where absolutely everything is the same, except the characters are all real and TGCF is an elaborate 2010th year marriage gift HC prepared for XL (by sending bits and pieces of their story to MXTX in a dream) that got out of hand and now they even get new prayers every now and then.

They still have their Paradise Manor and Qiandeng Temple in the Ghost Realm, but since XL never took residence in the Heavenly Realm, his current human residence is a modern penthouse HC got him a good while ago, high enough to be private and befit his divine status while still overseeing the buzzling city and all it's ant-like little humans.

The series is full of misinterpretations and wrong bits ofc, but they both enjoy it regardless. XL only cries once, by the end, during the scene that describes him [SPOILER] finding out HC has been by his side all along[SPOILER].

He also cries for the second time while listening to the donghua  theme songs of both him and HC.

HC is incredibly happy at how pretty the renditions of XL look everywhere, and just how he is pretty much the handsomest character in the entire series no matter who draws it. XL goes beet red every time he sees a rendition of himself anywhere, which is pretty often, with how popular the series got.

HC has a folder just for XL fanarts on his cellphone and, while shy about it, XL also has a secret folder full of HC fanarts he likes to scroll through when he thinks HC isn't looking (HC finds it super cute!). None of the arts measure up to the real thing, ofc, but both get all warm thinking about their significant other getting the praise they deserve.

HC loves dragging XL out on conventions just to see everyone almost fainting at the sight of him, while casually ignoring all the people who come for himself. They get some level of anonymous fame as the most smitten cosplayers and how "positively real" they look -Pics of HCs lovingly gaze and XLs shy smile take the internet by storm, specially since no one can seem to find online footprints of them anywhere, which only further increases the mystery veil around both 'cosplayers'.

XL secretly buys the miaowuxiaopu outfits and swears by his life he has nothing to do with it when the box comes a week later and HC is the one to receive it (but gets absolutely elated when HC dresses up and how good he looks with the outfit)

Both like to scroll down the "Hualian" tag everywhere and have fun seeing the new creations. HC loves going after the fic websites and finding "interesting, more creative fiction than the ones in the past. We should absolutely try some things..."

A couple of HCs new favorite pastimes include trying out new skins based on art XL shows particular interest in and having XL roleplay fanfic scenarios they both like.

FX and MQ got themselves apts as well, just so they could be closer to XL while mingling with humans a bit more now that they're more free. Their relationship is much better now, but neither will ever admit it.

MQ's floor to ceiling bedroom windows facing FXs "was nothing more than a bad coincidence! I hate it!"

They see no need to tell anyone about leaving their curtains open at night.

Both suffer greatly having to see HCs hideous, giant smiles plastered all over the city and on the subway walls and curse every time they are forced to listen to any of their theme songs again. MQ swears he will retch if he needs to listen to one more comment on how romantic “hualian” is.

FX is absolutely horrified that he now started to occasionally get new prayers regarding the marital bed god[TM] status he worked so hard to be forgotten - and even more so that some of them involves both him and MQ. About those, his lips stay completely sealed.

[melaninhuntress]

Hoodoo tip

The Song of Solomon are great for love work but also self love work as well!

I often use it when I do a self love working and it works very well!

These are the parts that what work best for me: 

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine; 3    your anointing oils are fragrant; your name is oil poured out;    therefore virgins love you. 4 Draw me after you; let us run.    The king has brought me into his chambers.

Others

We will exult and rejoice in you;    we will extol your love more than wine;    rightly do they love you.

She

5 I am very dark, but lovely,    O daughters of Jerusalem, like the tents of Kedar,    like the curtains of Solomon. 6 Do not gaze at me because I am dark,    because the sun has looked upon me. My mother's sons were angry with me;    they made me keeper of the vineyards,    but my own vineyard I have not kept! 7 Tell me, you whom my soul loves,    where you pasture your flock,    where you make it lie down at noon; for why should I be like one who veils herself    beside the flocks of your companions?

[foxleycrow]

Thranduil & Túrin playing together in Doriath, for @tolkiengenweek —when I realized they could have been kids in Doriath at the same time, I had to draw them together.

This one also comes with a short accompanying fic about their meeting:

To Wear an Elven Crown

Thranduil had longed to meet the Adan since he had heard the first tales of his arrival in Doriath. His wish had displaced most other longings in his heart. If he could speak to an Adan, he could practice his Mannish and ask him about so many things, like the life of his people and the world outside the Fence. Beleg Cúthalion had found the Adan lost in the woods, and then King Thingol had adopted him! Thranduil had never heard of anyone adopting an Adan, let alone the king himself. If he were now Thingol's son, did that mean he was an Elf, as well as a Man? 

Thranduil had asked his father several times whether he could visit the Adan, but each time he was told the newcomer was too unwell. He had been sick and weak when he was discovered, and he was not yet strong enough to entertain company. This news sank him into a deep state of worry. The Edain could contract illnesses, and were mortal. What if this one became very sick, or even died! Of course, the healers of Doriath were the greatest in Middle-earth, but the Adan had come from dangerous lands far from the protection of Doriath, where anything might have befallen him. Thranduil had heard stories of strange fevers and chills that Edain could suffer from; what if the Elven healers did not know how to treat them?

"If he were to speak with someone his own age, Ada, he might feel better." The Adan was young, like himself. Not precisely the same age, since Edain aged so differently, but near enough in essence. He wondered what kind of games the Edain played. Maybe they had invented some no Elves had dreamed of…

"Do you believe so?" asked Oropher, raising an eyebrow. "An interesting perspective. I did not know you had become such an expert on the matter."

"I would feel better, if it were me." In defiance of his father's eyebrow, he added, "I asked Beleg to tell me everything he knows about the Edain."

"Oh, so you are an expert. My mistake." Oropher's hand settled on his head. Thranduil felt the warmth of his father's skin on his brow and blinked. "He has been through much, little Tuil," said Oropher. "We will not tax him any more than we need to."

After offering a gentle pat, Oropher withdrew his hand. Thranduil lay back, resting his head among the grasses. Thranduil did not expect his father to understand, for Oropher was very old. There were no children in King Thingol's house, and if they would not allow Thranduil to visit and talk to the Adan, then they would not have let any other children in to speak to him; that was obvious.

"I am an expert," Thranduil murmured, closing his eyes. Beleg had told him that the Edain could grow lonely and sad, like Elves, and that they too loved to dance and sing and tell tales. The Adan was named Túrin, and his father had been an Elf-friend. That meant he was an Elf-friend, too. If he was a friend, then he should be treated as one and given a warm welcome by everyone in Menegroth. Surely that would make him feel better than being kept away from others.

"Are you falling asleep?" Oropher asked. "I'll take you back home."

He shook his head stubbornly, the blades of grass making themselves felt on his cheeks and chin. Narrow, but not quite sharp. They did not hurt, but he sensed each one keenly. "No, I want to nap out here in the sun." They were well behind the Fence and close to Menegroth, so these woods were safe and guarded. He could play or explore or rest among the trees whenever he liked, because Queen Melian kept them all from harm.

He heard Oropher's soft laughter and felt his father's hand settle on his head again briefly. Then he was only aware of the warm sun heating his skin and the faintly prickly touch of the grass carpeting the clearing. Soon, he was not aware of the clearing either, lost in a dream, wandering far from the waking world. He dreamed he was journeying through a dark, withered wood, bristling with dead branches. The sky was veiled with dense, gray clouds. There was an unnatural air to them, as if storm clouds had been thickened with smoke.

There was a cold wind at his back, and he was all alone. The dead trees were so tall, they made him feel smaller. He heard something moving behind him, breaking branches and rustling through shriveled leaves. An animal? Or something worse? He did not know, and he did not want to turn to look, so he ran. He ran until he felt he had been always running, yet no matter how quick his steps, the noises behind him persisted, never any closer, but never farther away.

Thranduil woke with a gasp. He sat up and scanned the clearing. It was as green and tranquil as it had been when he fell asleep. He heard the low buzz of insect song and the faint voices of the trees. Father was gone. He saw no sign of anyone nearby, although that was not unusual. The sun's light was starting to fade from the sky. It was that between-time when patches of sunlight were still scattered across the forest floor, while the first stars appeared in the purpling twilight above. Thranduil rose to his feet. He was a little hungry, but he was well-rested, and he wasn't ready to return home. He would rather play, until Father came to fetch him. He left the clearing, slipping into the undergrowth as soundlessly as possible.

One of his favorite games was Marchwarden. It was more fun to play with someone else, but it was a game he could also play alone, simply by moving as quickly and quietly as possible, so that no enemies could see or hear him—exactly like a Marchwarden. He was tracking. Not hunting, but searching for any sign of danger, to keep Doriath safe. He studied whatever tracks he came across, or other signs of passage, such as broken twigs or bent grasses, trying to judge who or what had come the same way, and how long ago. He could wander like this for hours, happily, alone.

He was not entirely happy. He was more uneasy as he searched for signs in the grass, because of his dream. Within the dead wood, he had felt like he would never be allowed to rest, racing with an enemy eternally at his back. Dreams always meant something, but not always what you thought they meant. It took a wise Elf to read dreams. He could have asked his father about it, and maybe he would later. Now, he stalked through the dense growth, crouching low so his pale hair couldn't be seen.

When he heard low and distant voices, Thranduil was still lost in his game, so he crouched lower, listening intently as he crept closer. He slowed his breathing, his heartbeat, hiding as he'd been taught.

"—where he could have gone—?"

"We will find him, and soon. There's only so far...."

"I hadn't thought he was strong enough. I would never have guessed he'd be so quick."

"You shouldn't underestimate—"

The speakers moved away, out of the range of his hearing. Those were two of Thingol's guards. Could they have been talking about the Adan? It was possible, and not only because Thranduil thought of the Adan so often. Who else would they have thought wasn't strong enough? If the Adan was lost, he might grow sicker. Imagine how upset King Thingol would be. If Thranduil was a Marchwarden, then he had a duty to do whatever he could to protect everyone in Doriath: including any Edain. He moved on again, more quickly and with greater purpose.

He studied the forest, down to the least leaf, and he listened to the birds singing, the faint breeze moving through the branches. He listened for telltale noises, or telltale silences. He wondered whether the Adan had had a nightmare, like he had. Maybe that was why he had run off. It must have been hard for him to leave his home behind, especially because of the war: that distant, dark shadow hanging over everything, even the forests of Doriath.

Where would an Adan go? Possibly into the undergrowth, where he was. A place where someone small would hide. Thranduil knew of many secret spaces ideal for concealing himself, but few of them were nearby, close to where the guards were hunting. A slight Adan would leave faint footprints. Like Thranduil, he would have been trained in how to hide, if he were in danger. Thranduil was sure that the great trackers of Doriath could find anyone, but maybe Túrin would be difficult to find, more difficult than they expected.

Thranduil headed toward the Dome—it was a vast, curving structure of twisted woody shrubs, crowned with flowering vines. It was bright enough to draw the eye of a stranger to these woods, and dense enough to provide ample cover and shelter. Thranduil often crawled in there to play, because it was like a fortress. He could pretend he ruled there, lord of the branches and leaves and blossoms.

Thranduil found a faint indentation that might have been left by someone running this way. Shortly after that, he spied a tiny tuft of thread, caught on a hooked thorn. It was bright blue in color, so it stood out more than it might have otherwise. Could he have been correct in thinking the Adan might have been come this way? He had been guessing, but maybe he really was a Marchwarden. He would have to tell Beleg, if he succeeded in his hunt.

Emboldened by the thought that he might be better at tracking than Thingol's own guard, Thranduil sank to his knees and crawled into one of the narrow passageways that led into the Dome. With twisting branches on either side of him, and a ceiling of ivy above, no one outside would be able to see him, once he had travelled the length of a few paces. There were no wider  ways in, the growth here was so dense. Anyone who was much larger than Thranduil would have had to cut their way through. Among the branches, Thranduil caught sight of another slight scrap of blue thread. The branches here loved to tug on clothing.

Encouraged, Thranduil moved faster, until he arrived at a fall of dense vines, pushed through them, and found himself confronted by a pair of dark, shining eyes, staring at him. The Adan gave a start, but did not run. It was hard to travel quickly within the Dome, especially if one didn't know it as well as Thranduil did. Thranduil had half-suspected he was imagining his grand success in tracking, so he sat, blinked and stared back at his quarry, startled and bewildered and pleased.

The Adan was seated with his knees drawn up toward his chest. He was very thin, the thinnest child Thranduil had ever seen. His narrow face made his eyes look bigger. Here, he was walled off from the world—or most of it. He looked a great deal like an Elf, although Thranduil could tell he was different as well. It was hard to say exactly why; he simply felt different, like the night air felt different from the air of day, or the atmosphere before a storm as opposed to in the dry season: different in so many various slight ways, some of which were easier to describe than others.

Although Thranduil had longed for their meeting with joy, he felt unexpectedly solemn, now that it was taking place. "Hello," he ventured, in Sindarin. "I'm Thranduil, Son of Oropher."

The Adan blinked, and for a moment, Thranduil wasn't sure if he would—or could—reply, but at last he answered softly, "I'm Túrin, Son of Húrin."

"Why are you out here?" Thranduil asked. He didn't wish to sound accusatory, so he added, "Did you want to play?"

Túrin looked away, into the shadows between the leaves. "I wanted to be by myself."

Thranduil nodded, as this was perfectly understandable. "I like to be by myself, too."

Túrin's gaze shifted back to Thranduil. He seemed relieved to hear this, exhaling.

"Can I stay, though?" Thranduil asked. "Now that I'm here."

"You can stay," Túrin said.

Thranduil knew that Thingol and all his guards and attendants and everyone must be nervous, but he didn't think a little while longer would do any harm, especially not when Túrin must have run here for a reason. Being surrounded by everyone at court could be overwhelming. Thranduil had never been far away from home and everyone he knew before, but it must be hard. It would be better not to rush him. He would let Túrin rest for a little while, and then he would take him to Thingol—just as Beleg had, before.

"I can show you something," he offered.

After another hesitation, Túrin nodded.

"Follow me," said Thranduil. He crawled ahead, between the branches, into the gloom. The last of the day's slight, slipping in through the leaves and vines above, made soft, pale shifting shapes on their hands and on the ground beneath. After a long way, the structure of the dome opened up onto a green glade, surrounded by dense undergrowth on all sides. No one would walk here casually, and if he and Túrin didn't stand up, no one would be able to see them from outside the enclosure. The glade was also hidden, but there was more room to stretch out, and even lie down. It was a fine place for a nap, with soft earth and open sky above. Clusters of flowers grew in profusion, along with tufts of dense grass. Thranduil and Túrin admired their new hiding place in silence, while birds sang in the trees overhead. It was not yet true night, only early twilight. The birds would keep singing a little longer.

"I come here sometimes when I want to be alone," Thranduil said. In the past days and weeks, he had formulated an ever-growing list of questions he would like to ask the Adan, but he did not ask a single one of them now.

Túrin nodded again, lowering his gaze. He reached down and ran his fingers through the grass. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and he did not smile.

"Everyone's looking for you," said Thranduil. "They must be worried."

"I didn't mean to make anyone worry. They shouldn't worry. I don't know why I—" He broke off, closing his eyes.

"It's all right. No one will be angry with you," Thranduil reassured him quickly, moved by Túrin's pained expression. "I'm not angry. I've been waiting to meet you. I've never met an Adan before."

Túrin's eyes reopened, slowly. "Never?"

Thranduil inclined his head in confirmation. "Never."

"I hadn't really met Elves before," said Túrin.

"But now you have. You've met Beleg, and King Thingol, and me. Everyone's happy you're here, that's why they're worried. But we don't have to go back right away. We can wait until you feel better." He cast about the glade, looking for something else he could show the Adan, to cheer him. Along with the two of them, the glade was bursting with life, all the usual green and growing things, rising from the earth and insisting on themselves… "Here—I'll make you something."

"Make me what—?"

"Look." Thranduil's gaze went to a stand of nearby pale purple flowers. These particular blossoms were edible and often harvested. It would do no harm to take a few, especially at this time of year. Quickly, he plucked a few of them, leaving a length of green stem on each. Once he had gathered enough, he wove them together. Flowers and grasses were easy to weave, especially into a circle. When they were joined, he tapped them with his fingers. He could feel the energy moving through the blooms and stems. He closed his eyes briefly, concentrating on that living force, pressing the separate strands of it into one: forging it into a single, singing ring and willing the flowers—live, preserve. They were no longer separate blooms; they had become a single entity. Their petals, which had been in the first stage of wilting, straightened with pride, made fresh and new. It was such a simple thing to do, yet Túrin was wide-eyed and rapt, staring at his hands as if he had performed a wonder. "A crown for you, Prince Túrin." Thranduil reached out and settled the circlet of blooms on Túrin's head.

Finally, Túrin smiled at him. Thranduil smiled back.

They did not stay long, alone in that green glade together, hidden by a conspiracy of leaves and vines and branches. They were never meant to stay long. The world outside was waiting for them to emerge. While the sun receded and the stars began to show themselves—one by one at first, then all at once, like a rain of jewels scattering across the sky—they played and laughed for a few moments.

As Thranduil predicted, when they returned to Menegroth, Túrin did not receive a single scolding. Thingol wrapped him in a fierce embrace. Beleg was as impressed by Thranduil's skills as Thranduil had hoped. He praised Thranduil for his skill in tracking, and said he could visit Túrin whenever he wanted. Eventually, he was able to ask Túrin every question on his extensive list.

Many long years later, tragedy faded into myth for so many, but not for those who were there. Thranduil rarely listened to the sad songs that touched on the subject of Túrin Turambar, but when a certain mood was on him, he would ask the harpers to play one of the few he approved of. Thranduil had grown very old. Seated on his throne, wearing his own heavy crown, he would lean back and remember the smile of a young boy with his dark hair full of flowers.

[atangledfate]

Blaze placed her hands behind her back and gave Poppy a warm smile. Her head tilted as she explained that the nobles of this region were quite reclusive. Still she'd rather not upset them, perhaps she should just keep a low profile while here? That was probably for the best, better not to mention nor rouse suspicion of who and what she was anytime soon. Especially not to the common folk who might panic knowing a god was walking there world. She also had a feeling that the gods of this world were not as absent as Poppy thought. Thus it was best if she did not interfere in mortal affairs while here.

" I tracked the energy that brought you here back to this spot. So its likely we are close to where you left yes. I see, well i think it will be best if i keep a low profile... for all our sakes. "

She turned to Leo giving him a stern stare

" From now on just refer to me by Blaze, no honorifics... best to not draw attention to who or what i am. for now i shall be blaze and nothing more or less... Leo is just our mercenary for hire... that should quell any suspicions yes? "

The Paladin got ridged at this request and placed a hand on the pummel of his sword. He stroked his mane as if processing that request before sighing deeply. he nodded to Blaze and mentally noted the request---it was for the mission after all. The trio didn't linger as they marched there way into town. The stares were pretty obvious, and she couldn't help but feel awful for the possums of this world. Though wondered if the phone was designed for them or more segregation. Either way she simply followed but took note of the citizens, the buildings and architecture, knowing there was much she'd have to learn about this world.

Listening to the phone call had Blaze increasingly growing worried about Poppys mother. She didn't fully understand the language used! But it didn't sound like the conversation of a pleased parent. It reminded her of when her own mother often scolded her for giving into her emotions to easily. This meeting might well not be the most comfortable one in the world. But no less so then the ceremony she would guess.

Blaze was rather focused on Poppy and the call she barely saw the blade, though the fact Poppy caught it had both she and Leo on guard. While Leo was clueless, Blaze could feel the magic in her bones. She couldn't see wo it was but she could tell where they were. But despite this Leo was quick to step in front of poppy hand on his rather large blade. He spoke a word of his own magic and his eyes turned bright blue as he pierced the magic veil. Revealing the foe, with a fierce growl.

" Such Cowardice... but you can not hide from me Knave... "

He drew his blade and pointed it at the hunter as it burst into blue flames that crackles along the enchanted sword. Summoning a shield of blue flames in his other hand.

" These two are under my protection--- I give you this one chance to flee... and rethink your life, i shall not give you another..."

Leo was not about to let harm come to either as long as he was living yet, it was the figure behind him specifically blaze that was the more concerning of the two. Her eyes were locked on this hunter with wisps of flame swirling about her tail and the tips of her ears catching flame. Her jaw clenched as her eyes locked with this strange assassins.

The aura of killing intent she gave off was palpable, there were few things that could set blaze off faster then attacking her loved ones. She had to fight every negative urge in her body not to turn the man to cinders on the spot.

She didn't need to say a word--- was no more clear message she could give them man, if he did not run she'd kill him without batting an eye.

Poppy looked around seeming a bit surprised as she caught the ring. "This is the town that I was in before ending up your world. What are the odds you ended up here first try." The opossum was rather suspicious of that, though didn't think about it too long as she ain't living here no more. "Oh, a royal ain't gonna be all the way out here. Feline royals all live at some crazy temple. They're like, super crazy fighters of something called the Iron Paw." She never bothered to learn much about any royals.

"If my memory is right there should be an opossum accessible pay phone this way," Poppy said, walking into town. It was quick to see a lot of people were staring and keeping their distance from the opossum who ignored them. "Almost forgot the feeling of having everyone staring at me while judging. Best just to ignore them."

Poppy then saw a pay phone walking up to it as she started digging in the pouch of her overalls and pulled out a few nibs. "Alright, let's hope mum isn't too pissed," the opossum said putting in one of the coins into the pay phone. She then picked up the phone and dials a number.

"Hey mum, it-" Poppy would hold the phone away from her hear as someone could be heard shouting from the other side. "Mum, just calm down I- Lily is fine, look, just- I didn't get arrested. Mum, you need to- Maman, détends-toi et écoute pendant une seconde. Je comprends que tu sois inquiète, mais il s'est passé beaucoup de choses. Non, tu n'as pas… Chuck." The opossum hangs up the phone.

"So, uh, guess my mum is taking an express teleport here. That's going to be fun." Poppy was not ready for her mother to start yelling her ear off in public and in front of Blaze. The opossum stepped out then suddenly caught a small knife someone just threw at her. Turning to see a cloaked lizard who looked shocked as he was currently invisible.

"Look, pal, I ain't in the mood to mess with another wannabe bounty hunter. Why don't you beat it before I punch you throw a building." Poppy said, snapping the knife in between her fingers. "Oh, uh, bounty hunter with one of those fancy invisible spells. Don't really work on opossums as we can kinda see through spells like that too. Not shape shifting though. Weird how that works."