Trololol~

Hello there! My Name is Akina and I'm an hobby artist and cosplayer from Germany. I mostly reblog whatever I like, right now mostly Lucifer, Ladybug, Voltron and Supernatural, also some of my drawings :)

[sammakesart]

I was thinking about that scene from Ever After…

[ghostfire]

"Vhenan..."

[silverhawk]

but the good news is:

[anymoretastelessdemands]

Now that IS good news

[marvelsmostwanted]

There are people – some in my own Party – who think that if you just give Donald Trump everything he wants, he’ll make an exception and spare you some of the harm. I’ll ignore the moral abdication of that position for just a second to say — almost none of those people have the experience with this President that I do. I once swallowed my pride to offer him what he values most — public praise on the Sunday news shows — in return for ventilators and N95 masks during the worst of the pandemic. We made a deal. And it turns out his promises were as broken as the BIPAP machines he sent us instead of ventilators. Going along to get along does not work – just ask the Trump-fearing red state Governors who are dealing with the same cuts that we are. I won’t be fooled twice.

I’ve been reflecting, these past four weeks, on two important parts of my life: my work helping to build the Illinois Holocaust Museum and the two times I’ve had the privilege of reciting the oath of office for Illinois Governor.

As some of you know, Skokie, Illinois once had one of the largest populations of Holocaust survivors anywhere in the world. In 1978, Nazis decided they wanted to march there.

The leaders of that march knew that the images of Swastika clad young men goose stepping down a peaceful suburban street would terrorize the local Jewish population – so many of whom had never recovered from their time in German concentration camps.

The prospect of that march sparked a legal fight that went all the way to the Supreme Court. It was a Jewish lawyer from the ACLU who argued the case for the Nazis – contending that even the most hateful of speech was protected under the first amendment.

As an American and a Jew, I find it difficult to resolve my feelings around that Supreme Court case – but I am grateful that the prospect of Nazis marching in their streets spurred the survivors and other Skokie residents to act. They joined together to form the Holocaust Memorial Foundation and built the first Illinois Holocaust Museum in a storefront in 1981 – a small but important forerunner to the one I helped build thirty years later.

I do not invoke the specter of Nazis lightly. But I know the history intimately — and have spent more time than probably anyone in this room with people who survived the Holocaust. Here’s what I’ve learned – the root that tears apart your house’s foundation begins as a seed – a seed of distrust and hate and blame.

The seed that grew into a dictatorship in Europe a lifetime ago didn’t arrive overnight. It started with everyday Germans mad about inflation and looking for someone to blame.

I’m watching with a foreboding dread what is happening in our country right now. A president who watches a plane go down in the Potomac – and suggests — without facts or findings — that a diversity hire is responsible for the crash. Or the Missouri Attorney General who just sued Starbucks – arguing that consumers pay higher prices for their coffee because the baristas are too “female” and “nonwhite.” The authoritarian playbook is laid bare here: They point to a group of people who don’t look like you and tell you to blame them for your problems.

I just have one question: What comes next? After we’ve discriminated against, deported or disparaged all the immigrants and the gay and lesbian and transgender people, the developmentally disabled, the women and the minorities – once we’ve ostracized our neighbors and betrayed our friends – After that, when the problems we started with are still there staring us in the face – what comes next.

All the atrocities of human history lurk in the answer to that question. And if we don’t want to repeat history – then for God’s sake in this moment we better be strong enough to learn from it.

I swore the following oath on Abraham Lincoln’s Bible: “I do solemnly swear that I will support the constitution of the United States, and the constitution of the state of Illinois, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of Governor .... according to the best of my ability.

My oath is to the Constitution of our state and of our country. We don’t have kings in America – and I don’t intend to bend the knee to one. I am not speaking up in service to my ambitions — but in deference to my obligations.

If you think I’m overreacting and sounding the alarm too soon, consider this:

It took the Nazis one month, three weeks, two days, eight hours and 40 minutes to dismantle a constitutional republic. All I’m saying is when the five-alarm fire starts to burn, every good person better be ready to man a post with a bucket of water if you want to stop it from raging out of control.

Those Illinois Nazis did end up holding their march in 1978 – just not in Skokie. After all the blowback from the case, they decided to march in Chicago instead. Only twenty of them showed up. But 2000 people came to counter protest. The Chicago Tribune reported that day that the “rally sputtered to an unspectacular end after ten minutes.” It was Illinoisans who smothered those embers before they could burn into a flame.

Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage. So gather your justice and humanity, Illinois, and do not let the “tragic spirit of despair” overcome us when our country needs us the most.

Sources:

• NBC Chicago & J.B. Pritzker, Democratic governor of Illinois, State of the State address 2025: Watch speech here | Full text

• Betches News on Instagram (screencaps)

[terramythos]

who is blasting linkin park at work the only other coworkers at the office are like 40+. Incredible

[lindleland]

hybrid theory came out 25 years ago. people who were teenagers when they were first popular are around 40.

[terramythos]

fuck

[akinayukihyo]

Apparently... there are.. and as someone of the 'older' poeple listening to linkin park let me tell you: it's weird. it's so so weird having them and their 20ies energy go crazy about a band you love too.

[odyssiaca]

you are the hero of ferelden. no matter your origin you watch those you love most be ripped from you. death becomes an endless cycle which seems to follow you wherever you go. the fate of the world rests on your shoulders as you know you can never return home. home is gone now. home is buried with your family, jailed with your closest ally, cradled by the ancestors, forgotten like your beloved, lost to time in the murky glass of the eluvian- dead in your arms, killed at your hand. you are the hero of ferelden and it is your destiny to die. when next the world falls apart, you do not come. this world does not deserve your pity.

you are the champion of kirkwall. you are a refugee, cold and hungry and sold into labour. your mother hates you, though she will never say it. it's your fault the ogre killed your sibling, your fault the taint took the other. but you are happy. you have everything, friends and family and status and riches. you defeat the people plaguing your glorious city, you are the people's hero. you will always know even as she came back, isabela left you to die. you are happy but you are alone. you have everything and then you are rocking back and forth begging please please please do not take my mother as well. you have nothing, but you for a single second, you had everything. you are the champion of kirkwall, and your ally has blown up the chantry. where is your home now that everything is your fault?

you are the herald of andraste. and you are so, so scared. these people do not trust you, do not like you, would feed you to the fade if they could. they do not care if you follow another religion, you are their herald. you can never return home because heroes do not have homes. they say home is the people you choose, but you didn't choose these people, did you? every step you take aches. thousands reach out to touch you, for safety. for comfort. you are a black hole close to destruction, and you cannot do this. you are the herald of andraste and you have not been yourself for so long now.

[postsatthepeakofperfection]

The word you are looking for is “selfish.” Not narcissist, not sociopath, selfish.

[miggylol]

[risto-licious]

tressyyyyyyym! winged cats are so fun to draw, I already crave to sketch some more in the future! here are some from today!

[elfbotanist]

Pre veilguard there was always the possibility that Solas was bound by a geas. So many theories! It explains why he is so angry when Inquisitor drinks from the well.

I was watching the well of sorrows cutscene with a flycam and you can see enchantment bindings all over his face as Inquisitor gets binded to the well. If it is not the case then why put it in game? Or did they retconned it? This is terrible and it adds so much.

It is similar to that of the inquisitor if they drink from the well.

video of that scene

It does not seem like a glitch since it does not happen to other companions?

Btw I do remember someone sharing this flycam screenshot before but I cannot find that post.

Thinking about how in dav he tells both the Rook and the Inquisitor that he cannot stop—not that he won’t, but that he cannot.

I kinda hope that Solas was not under a geas? Lackluster however it might be but the regret theme makes his character very interesting and complex, which I love so much.

[ar-ghilas-vir-banal]

Whoaaah… God he sounds so scared. What must even be going through Solas’ mind watching the Inquisitor do what he did all those centuries ago. Especially if he loves her.

Just the sheer panic. It’s going to change her. It’s going to twist her. She’ll be lost to Mythal’s will. Even if she doesn’t know it, she will.

And if this is a geas… oh my God? He really is still a slave. That’s… oh my God. It’s terrible. It really is.

[akinayukihyo]

But if it was a geas... it would make SO much more sense that you have to get Mythals essence that tells him he can stop and that she sets him free. Like.. that stupid shallow sounding sentence would actually have a GREAT IMPORTANCE?!

[void-bitten-ghost]

Good god, imagine how solas was with romanced lavellan fighting and getting downed in inquisition

Like. People die. That's what they do. Yeah okay hon tell me that when you're constantly keeping an eye on her back, watching as she practically falls into the role of Inquisitor, a role you've orchestrated for her, and nearly dies On The Daily

He purposely creates that distance, only to see it dwindle inch by inch, near death by near death, until that one day she hits the ground and he is flying across the battlefield to destroy whatever dealt the last blow, dropping to his knees and scooping her up like dust in his palms.

But then she's blinking up at him, bloodied and wincing but alive and he all but melts. But it hits him differently, right then, how very delicate these creatures are. He knew, of course, in a practical sense. But he hadn't been in it.

He's fought beings beyond even the comprehension of these people. She is a blink, a breath, a weave in the tapestry of his existence, but if she were to be torn or pulled from him he would unravel and that is terrifying

Anyway yeah, ancient being who is acquainted with mortality and then is forced to know it intimately through adoration is uh. It's pretty cool I guess

[darethshirl]

solavellan, sharing a bed tent

"We've accomplished enough for today. Let's set up camp," the Seeker said brusquely as the sun set on of their first day of excursions, in the Hinterlands woodlands, with the green light of a healed Veil tear still veritably crackling over their skin. She tossed her pack on the ground and knelt, taking out pegs and tools with her strong hands. "Herald, help me with our tent."

Lavellan paused. She'd been in the middle of turning towards Solas—an unthinking, instinctive show of preference, one he refused to think too hard about—and so was stuck in this frozen position, unmoving as a startled halla. "Oh," she started, and failed to continue. Unable to find a tactful way to say no. Her expression, usually unreadable, now looked uncomfortable.

The silence stretched long enough to draw attention to itself. Varric raised his eyebrows with an author's—or gossip's—bloodhound instinct for intrigue. Even Cassandra eventually looked up, more confused than affronted. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

The problem is that you are a Chantry official and she is from a persecuted group, Solas thought, and you are completely blind to the imbalances of power you yourself perpetuate.

But he didn't say any of it aloud. There would be no point to it. He waited instead to see how Lavellan would extricate herself from this tangle, observing without interfering.

"I'm a light sleeper," Lavellan said, her voice taking on the laughing hue of an apologetic joke. Her mouth curled up; it didn't quite match her eyes. "Your heavy armor would keep me up at night." A subtle enough attempt, if inelegant under the circumstances. Solas approved.

Sadly, it seemed understanding subtlety was beyond the Seeker's capabilities. "I don't wear armor when I sleep," she said with a frown, painfully straight-faced.

More silence. Lavellan's smile stretched thin—Solas could see the strain on her cheeks, the way the corners of her eyes tightened. He could also see the moment she gave up, that split-second display of resignation. She really was going to agree, and spend all night tense and drawn, and pay the price for it tomorrow.

Solas drew breath to speak. "You can sleep in my tent if you'd prefer, lethallin."

Lavellan's relief was immediate. It rushed our of her in a sigh, her body completing its movement to turn fully towards him. "Thank you, Solas." Her eyes were wide and deeply green, looking up at him with more gratitude than he deserved. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all." Solas made a courtly gesture—offering her what? Crude canvas in an even cruder forest?—and schooled his face into an expression he hoped was reassuring. "After you."

"Wait!" Cassandra scrambled to her feet, looking so genuinely alarmed that Solas wondered if he'd somehow missed a step. "You can't do that!"

Lavellan stuttered in her motion again, her shoulders tensing. "Why not?"

"Because he's a man!"

The silence that descended this time had a distinct tinge of incredulity to it. Lavellan showed her most open emotion so far: honest confusion. "…So?"

Cassandra spluttered, her face reddening. "But—that's—surely you'd be more comfortable with—with another woman!"

"Elves don't care about shit like that," Varric cut in, his gaze and grin taking on a mean glint. "But I guess you've got your mind in the gutter, huh? For shame, Seeker," he added, shaking his head theatrically. "I'm suddenly afraid for my virtue."

"You shut up," Cassandra hissed menacingly—then turned towards Lavellan, stiff and blotchy-faced. "Is this truly what you prefer?” she asked, then at Lavellan’s answering nod deflated. “Very well. Then I won't get in your way."

An unexpectedly honorable response. Made in earnest too, if the Seeker's serious, guileless expression was any proof. Solas found himself reconsidering the woman, and Lavellan herself seemed both surprised and moved by the act. "Thank you," she said, and this time her smile warmly touched her eyes.

The rest of their preparations went on uneventfully enough. Solas and Lavellan worked in silent tandem together, their teamwork efficient as they ignored the bickering happening behind their backs. Before long the tent was set, the sun was setting, and goodnights were said.

"Thank you again for the save," Lavellan said with a sigh, her tension having disappeared the moment the canvas cloth flapped closed. She was kneeling, unwrapping her bedroll with unhurried, graceful movements. Her eyes twinkled when she smiled at him. "I hope this isn't too much trouble for you."

"It is nothing," Solas replied, willing it to be so. "A small thing to sacrifice for your comfort. Remember, I am here to help."

Small was also the inside of the tent; a fact he hadn't considered, back when he'd opened his mouth with such uncharacteristic impulsiveness. Even with space left courteously between their bedrolls, reality was undeniable: they were too close together, their shifting too loud, their bodies too aware of each other. Or maybe that was just Solas. He told himself he couldn't actually feel her body heat warming up the side of his arm, drawing up goosebumps. Not literally.

"Goodnight, Solas."

"Goodnight."

A steady breathing. Solas listened to its constant rhythm, slowed down his own to match it. His hands were clasped demurely over his belly. He didn't look over.

Only when nightfall had truly fallen, hours later and with the forest's sounds adding their counterpoint to the ambience, did he risk a glimpse. Lavellan slept curled in on herself, lying on her side with a hand slightly outstretched. Did she have a companion back at her clan? Someone who would grasp that hand and curl towards her, sharing her breath? Her sleeping face looked like she wouldn't reject such acts, her expression slack and defenseless.

Solas turned his gaze back to the tent's roughspun ceiling. He closed his eyes, and shut his mind.

[amaretta]

“I walk the Din’anshiral. There is only death on this journey… I would not have you see what I become.” <3 Twitter - Patreon - Artstation - Instagram

[sketchytea]

absolutely no one: me: what if i put the companions in the shadow dragon casual wear

[littlechaoscosplay]

✨Him✨

[ar-ghilas-vir-banal]

You know what one of the Solas Banters in DAV should’ve been? Talking to the romanced companion about the romance.

Like there should’ve been a rough patch that you can navigate out of just before the big fight. Solas catches the smad looks the two of you have, if you’ve put them in your party.

-“Davrin, forgive my intrusion-“

“Mm.”

“I… am aware of your… bond with-“

“Don’t, Solas. This is between us, yes?”

“It is. But if I may… waste no time.”

“… this advice is from Wisdom, hm?”

“*Solas chuckles, clearly a little taken aback by being called that* Maybe. Avoid this one regret.”

“… you didn’t.”

Solas doesn’t reply.

———————

“What is it, Solas? You keep… looking at me.”

“I see what Rook sees in you, Bellara Lutare. Your mind. Your spirit. Both are very bright. I am, however, trying to determine what you see in him/her/them.”

“That’s- that’s none of your business.”

“You are right. It is not…”

Then quieter: “When I left Rook in the Fade, he/she/they whispered your name. Not for help… like a prayer. You are important to him/her/them.”

“I… he’s/she’s/they’re important to me. But I couldn’t-“

“Protect him/her/them… I understand. Do you think he/she/they love(s) you less for it?”

“… that’s… why are you saying this?”

“If I could, there is one person I would wish to see right now. Someone I do still believe I am a danger to. But I long to see her all the same. Avoid my folly.”

“… the Inquisitor.”

Solas doesn’t reply after that.

———————

“Professor… you seem troubled.”

“I… ah. Hm. Well. Yes. I suppose I am.”

“… I will not pry. But… I know the feeling of the face you wear. Whatever keeps you from what you want… ultimately it is unimportant. Especially if… if someone wishes to take it from you. Remember, being loved well should be answered in kind.”

After a long silence in which an understanding look is implied, Emmrich

“I will bear that in mind. Thank you, Solas. You are still a Spirit of Wisdom.”

“… scarcely.”

———————

“Spite, you have withheld something from your host.”

We don’t hear Spite speak, we only hear Lucanis. He sounds stunned and then relieved.

“… I… oh. You… you do? Solas. I… why?”

“I have… recently become a bit of a romantic.”

The implied conversation is that Spite not only doesn’t mean the romance Rook harm, but that he adores them also. Allowing Spite and Lucanis to be of one mind where they’re concerned.

I admittedly don’t know the others that well but yall get my point. Also that was kinda fun!

[ar-ghilas-vir-banal]

Actually wait. I’ve got more.

—————

“Harding… Lace. Hm. I didn’t know that was your given name before.”

“You didn’t know a lot before…”

“I… *sigh*. I am so sorry. For… for everything.”

“Do you think that fixes it?”

“No. No, of course not. But it bears saying.”

“*sigh*”

“… Lace?”

“… what?”

“You’ve seen what a bad parting of hearts can be. Don’t… don’t be like me.”

“But I… but I hurt-“

“And I hurt the Inquisitor… I… I broke her heart. I pushed her away. Twice.”

“… okay. I… I gotchya. Solas?”

“Yes?”

“… thanks.”

“Thank you. For watching over her.”

———————

“Hey Solas.”

“I was not bald before, alright? I had hair. Quite a lot of it.”

“That wasn’t what I was gonna say.”

“Oh. Apologies.”

“S’okay. So um. What with the cheese?”

“The… what?”

“The harpsichord room? You got like. Twenty, twenty-one wheels of cheese in there, man.”

*Solas snorts.* “I like cheese.”

“That much?”

“It pairs well with wine. When one is in a somber mood.”

“… ohhh that’s your drunk tank.”

“Of a sort.”

“Hm. You ever jer-“

*Someone else in the party half yells:* “TAASH!”

“What? I just wanna know how bad he misses her, that’s all. Was it real? Or was he using her to get in good with the Inquisition?”

“I can answer that for you… I dream of her every time I sleep. Every bird song, every flower, every shimmer of light upon water… it is her. When I think of… *sigh*… of home, I do not think of a place.” He starts, sounding a little offended, but then grows softer the longer he speaks.

“… huh.”

“… and you? Do you miss him/her/them?”

“I,uh- hey, how do you know about that?”

“You smell of longing. Regret. I know it well.”

“… oh.” Taash sounds legitimately stunned.

“Do not let it linger. Time is short.”

“… okay.”

————————

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t-“

“No. You didn’t. And you won’t.”

“Madam Gallus, you are far too distrustful.”

“See, I just told you not-“

“I heel to only one voice; you are not her. I refused to believe someone once, regardless of the kindness and affection she never failed to offer me. Her friendship grew into something I never expected… I tried to resist but… I wanted her as much as she wanted me. I believed then, however, that I was the one with the stronger feelings. That she couldn’t possibly contain the magnitude of emotion that I did… I was wrong. Do not cheapen the love you are offered.”

“… how the… why are you doing this?”

“I am not cruel, Neve Gallus. Why would I ever wish to see others suffered as I have?”

“You really do love her, don’t you?”

“You really do love him/her/them? Don’t you?”

[mrs-gauche]

“A solid form is both shackle and strength. It affects more than you imagine.”

[mrs-gauche]

Sometimes you come across some really funny stuff when using the flycam and then you put dramatic chorus and some effects on it and then The Dread Wolf Rises™ before plopping out of existence and I can’t stop laughing

(I didn’t make any cuts, the camera just automatically jumped closer, which makes this even funnier to me sjhdhfjfkak)