little fox

[ruekathesi]

[soft-lovely]

the art of book covers

[missfolly]

Marie-Therese Charlotte, the Duchess d’Angouleme (detail) by Jean-Baptiste Augustin

[sistersbyfreya]

🌱✨🪨

[ofallingstar]

The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc (1999)

[saintofsilence]

The Witch (2015)

[db-v0id-deactivated20260530]

sheltered by the boughs...

[therowanhawk]

THE WEEPING WILLOWSSSS

[daisydenim1967]

[theodorafrompluto]

Orpheus leading Eurydice from the Underworld (1861)

by Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot

[tragiclore]

But what if Azriel falls into an eternal sleep and Elain sings/dreamwalks to get him back?

[bestiolin]

An utterly heavenly 18th-Century North Italian carved wood shelf. via

[elrieluniverse]

Elriel.

[livywoohoo]

Yin and Yang, Light and Dark, Elain and Azriel: A cosmic shift is coming our way through an Elriel pairing.

*Multiverse spoilers*

The Oracle of Avallen told Cormac (prince of the Avallen Fae, spy, and possessed shadow powers akin to Azriel's) that he was destined to unite with a princess who had a star in her heart, and that this union would bring prosperity to their people. But what if that prophecy was actually meant to be taken more generally....I'll explain more as I go:

In Crescent City, there is a separate prophecy: "When knife and sword are reunited, so shall our people be," which referred to the reunion of the Starsword (light) and Truth-Teller (dark). Similar themes of light and dark run through this prophecy, especially when we explicitly see in HOFAS the actual power of the blades' reunion: "Bands of light falling into darkness, her power stripped to its most elemental, basic form. They shot for each other, and where they met, light and darkness and darkness and light slamming into each other […] Such light and darkness — the power lay in the meeting of the two of them. She understood it now, how the darkness shaped the light." What I took from this was that the power does not belong to one (light) or the other (dark), but lives in the meeting point between the two.

We see the SAME imagery echo across ACOTAR itself. "Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring, vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife." Light-Elain, Dark-Azriel, what happens when the two come together? Mate? Bond? What then? What power will they possess as one?

Additionally, because my brain woke up and chose to make all these connections after months of not theorizing, I wanted to connect the Elriel fandom's theory based on the Bone Carver's statement in ACOMAF that there is potentially a starborn line that is continued through a human line, the Archeron line? Elain?

With Azriel predicted to play a role in reviving Dusk, or potentially as its next heir, and given the darkness, shadows, and TT itself, could he and Elain (light, warmth, possible starborn fae bloodline, associated with The Mother) fulfill a prophecy of their own?

Is Azriel a Prince in the same way that Cormac was (Hel, Dusk, Fionn, 'insert all Azriel heritage theories here'), the one to fulfill the oracle's destiny to marry a princess (Elain) with a star in her heart to bring prosperity to their people?

I could go on, but this story really feels like Azriel and Elain are set up for the final and truest fulfillment of many of the prophecies woven across the Massverse: Knife + Sword, Shadow + Star, Dark + Light....

Hope shining through the void ✨

[ltwilliammowett]

Book shaped compass, Germany, 1600-20

This folding compass and dial was made in about 1600 to 1620 in Nuremberg in Germany, attributed to Hans Reinmann II (d.1627)

[floralportals-deactivated202605]

Deer in the cemetery 𓊆ྀི𐂂ྀི𓊇.𖥔 ☁︎ ݁ ˖ ⋆

[unusual-suspects]

x

[expressions-of-nature]

Dolgiye Mountains, Russia by Arseny Kashkarov

[trash-shrike]

a jigsaw falling into place

For @tamlinweek Day 4 - Family (YEAH I'M LATE AGAIN, AND WHAT OF IT?)

I massively fell out of love with the original concept for this since I failed to render it how i wanted. i'm just not skilled enough yet. a shame because how these two meet has always been very vivid to me. Maybe I'll try to do a better job way down the line in procreate or smthn, I think it's a good exercise.

I'd originally had Tam and Rhys meet immediately after the human war under the pretense that Tam was in his teens when it concluded, but learned later that Tam would've only been 7 lol. So the interpretation has changed a bit...

This occurs at the Dawn court like a whole decade after the human war for independence is won. Tensions had mostly died down between Prythian and the Spring Court, the only court that fought staunchly in favor of slavery. They had lost plenty and faced significant indictments during the negotiations that followed, to the extreme displeasure of Tam's father. And yet, there are still negotiations to be made. Dawn Court was considered a neutral touchpoint.

Tamlin himself was silently grateful for the war’s outcome. He’d always been the softest brother, never having been able to stomach his family’s treatment of their slaves. When Tam is asked to shadow the rest of his family as a scribe, he doesn't complain.

Spring and Night’s families pass by each other in the halls in between meetings. Neither would have courteous words to say to one another, as such, everyone is silent despite the palpable tension in the air.

Rhysand, hair still cut close to his scalp from his time commanding the military, stays close to his mother, and pointedly ignores the glares of the Spring royal family. He never let the brutish appearances of the southern slave-owning court ruffle him, despite his burning contempt. Celyddon was easily the strongest high fae male he’d ever seen, and his sons had all inherited his build. Their bodies blocked the sun from his eyes as they walked past.

As the two groups had almost completely passed each other, Rhysand double takes when he spots the unfamiliarly small figure at the back of the entourage.

Since when did Cel have a third son?

The male young, likely no older than fifteen; a child. He has the awkward lanky build of one experiencing their first growth spurt, and Rhysand distantly wonders if this one would grow to be as tall, broad, and violent as the others. The boy's hair is as golden as his mother’s and falls like a messy mop about his shoulders. He’s underdressed compared to the rest of the group; almost plain looking. Instead of gripping a court sword, he holds a stack of parchment in his arms.

Eyes like newleaf glance towards him warily, and Rhysand notices the purple swelling around his left eye.

One could not expect even basic courtesy from Celyddon, such as to glamour the obvious hand he or his ilk had laid on his youngest child, but nevertheless Rhys cannot keep the look of pity from his face.