#fionn meadowes

[lethe-rpg]

Perhaps he was just born a few centuries too late. That’s what Fionn figures. Back in the day, when the world was young and fae things were properly fae, he’d have done just fine - carousing and thieving, making merry and managing all sorts of mischief. Without anybody getting their knickers in a twist. By the time he came along, though, there were just too many hidebound traditional types around the Otherlands. Fussy old bastards. That’s what he tells himself. Fionn, cut adrift by parents he never knew, chased after by a brother and sister who had better things to do, understood that he was something of a burden. Had he asked to be born? No. Wasn’t his fault.

But he was here, now, and he wasn’t about to let a moment pass where he wasn’t drinking life’s splendor dry. That’s what they were supposed to be about, wasn’t it? Those elder fae seemed to think he drank too deeply, though. He neglected his lessons in the history and magic of their kind, shook off stately affairs and protocols to run through the hills and dales with stranger, wilder faeries. Young and cocksure, Fionn took what gifts he’d been born to and scoffed at those that came harder, the ones that took work and thought to develop - the shifting of energies, that fae spark, the knowing of another’s heart. It was envy, maybe. His sister was so brilliantly talented in those crafts, his brother so respected, an artisan in iron. Was it fair, to hold himself to their older example? Perhaps not, but he did it all the same. And no matter what he managed, Fionn always, always came up short. Who was he trying to please, anyway? Those runaway parents? His beleaguered brother, his stifled sister? Himself, even? Fionn couldn’t say, so he couldn’t do it. And, in time, he stopped trying altogether.

A few duels, a couple scandalous affairs, and several spectacularly destructive incidents was all it took to turn the Otherlands against Fionn, in a decided sort of way. Let the humans deal with him, and his brother, too. Cora had already left, tired of the same old, same old staling madness of life among the fae. When they struck earth in Ireland, Fionn was too indignant to feel bereft. Or even awfully responsible. He was just being what he was meant to be, what they were all meant to be - a rover and a rambler, a lover and a singer of songs. And the human world was wonderful, really. Even if, eventually, they wound up having enough of his nonsense too. That was alright, though. He’d move on. To someplace new. There was so much to see, and so many people to share his music, his art, and, of course, himself with. So much for them to share with him, too - their revels and whiskey, ugly violence and breathtaking creativity. Study in contradictions, humans were. For once, Fionn found himself fond of research. Inevitably, that pulled him further and further from Faolan’s side. Then, of all things, his brother got himself a family. Started settling down. Like… humans, or something. So off Fionn strayed, for good, wandering from scene to scene, bed to bed, taking in all the wonder and mess humanity had to offer. Which was plenty. His family, such as they were, didn’t want or need him. And he didn’t want or need them, or anyone else, did he? Best to live in the present, with the company he had. Fleeting, mortal company, but lovely. His unnatural talent and his fae charms, roguish though they might be, made sure of that.

Unfortunately, now and then, even Fionn’s honeyed tongue and handsome eyes aren’t enough to get him out of the shit he stirs up. He’s quite literally stumbling into Lethe held together with duct tape and will, after falling afoul of the sort of people you really shouldn’t fall afoul of. Ever. Usually, his unnatural luck looks out for him. This time, he was very nearly gutted like a fish, a rabbit. He’d heard of a place, hidden in the woods, that drew magic and held it safely; somewhere like that would have somebody who could help, perhaps even one of his sort, to do a proper job of patching him up. So here he’s come, battered and worn. Never had the knack for healing, not for a scratch, nevermind anything so bad as this. But somebody around Lethe will. Probably. Not that he has money to pay, not at the moment - had to drop and run, after all. But he’ll find a way to make good. Or leave, quickly, whichever winds up being simpler. That’s the notion, anyway…

Unsurprisingly, Fionn hasn’t the foggiest idea what’s been going on in Lethe. He doesn’t even know his brother, sister, and daughter, all long lost, are in town, nevermind that people have been crawling out of the river on the regular. You’d think a creature with a life so long as his might be disturbed by the thought of your memories getting washed away, but… honestly, Fionn doesn’t remember terribly much with perfect, sober clarity. He’s been drinking, drugging, brawling, sleeping, and musing his way across and around the world for centuries, and the Otherlands are a distant recollection. Even his many sweethearts have faded away, with the years. All but one, the one he tried to forget most, honestly - Aurora. Beautiful beyond sense, for a human; every bit as sweetly ferocious as the summer he was made from. They shared some sweet times together, months in the California sun, tearing down the boulevards, tumbling about in the soft, fine sand. It was all fun and games, and love. You can have all three, he’d insist. Then it turned out she was pregnant. Fionn was gone by morning, slipping away in the dark. Only, he couldn’t keep going. Not this time. He’d never had a child of his own. Not that he knew of, at least. Never even met his own father. What could he do for Aurora, now? Put down stakes? It wasn’t in his nature. Be contrary to everything he’d ever been. But Fionn came back, all the same, slinking through the door. And he left. And he came back. And he left. And so on, flitting about like some frightened bird, bringing gifts and money when he had any, trying to feel right about any of it. Aurora, bless her, wanted him to be there. Fionn couldn’t understand why. Still, there he was, when the time came; her hand in his, and, then, a beautiful baby girl in his arms. Then, then… a crush of screaming hospital monitors, nurses, and doctors, pushing him out. As his Aurora left, without warning. Their girl wailed. It was just the two of them, now, and Fionn, he’d barely been prepared for the three of them. He tried, though. For a while, anyway. But it was obvious, wasn’t it? Fionn had never been nothing but trouble. An incapable wastrel. They were right, weren’t they? For all the magic in his blood, there’d been nothing at all he could do; another faerie, a better one, could have saved Aurora, made sure she lived to see her little girl grow up. But Fionn wasn’t better, and he wasn’t going to get better, and even if he did, it was far past time where that meant anything. She was gone. He didn’t even have the strength to name their child - it could only be unlucky, couldn’t it? A name from her craven, bastard father. She deserved more. She needed more. And so, he did the only thing that made much sense at all: tucked her into another baby’s bed, bound for a family. That was the last time Fionn saw his daughter, the last time he ever expected to see her. Like the rest of his blood, she would be better off without him.

Fate appears to have other plans, as ever - meaning a few Riverborn will be far from Fionn’s mind. Far and away…

[tilthedayidice]

hi, can i have a dice palette for my character? their name is fionn meadows, they’re a human (but with the halfling stat block, sort of like pete in unsleeping city) light domain cleric and a college freshman english major who works at a campus coffee shop, the campaign is set at our college and their title is the lightspeaker, so using words to inspire and uplift others magically, for colors they have dark ish purple hair and then i also associate yellow and orange for like the whole light thing!!

Chessex Festive Sunburst

Chessex Speckled Pastel Goth

HD Dice Translucent Glitter Beige

HD Dice Lemon Curd

Dice Envy Ore Core

Dice Envy Ecto Cooler

Wiz Dice Nountainheart

[harpermiller]

I am an avid fan of the og marauders fan cast however I thought I’d share my personal marauders fan cast bc I love it a lot okay

Gavin Leatherwood as James Potter

Charlie Oldman as Sirius Black

Drew Starkey as Remus Lupin

Fionn O’Shea as Peter Pettigrew

Kennedy McMann as Lily Evans

Florence Pugh as Marlene Mckinnon

Jaz Sinclair as Dorcus Meadows

Aimee Lou Wood as Mary MacDonald

Daisy Edgar-Jones as Alice Fortescue

Jack Quaid as Frank Longbottom

[fatehbaz]

It is early February in the west of Ireland, and there is the faintest warmth on the sea breeze coming over the bogs. But this is only a lull: winter storms will soon come back with fury. I turn down the bóithrín (country lane) and hop an old drystone wall into scrubby hazel trees. Like most trees out here, they are stunted and windswept. But the muddy ground slopes down from the road, and as I head west, soon there are curving oaks covered in lichens, mossy granite boulders, and tangles of holly and bramble [...]. As the land falls away, the oaks get bigger, sheltered by the deepening valley, and then there are tall pines and boulders the height of houses [...]. 

But this is a mere sleight of the land, an illusion created by standing deep in small woods. Despite its lush and green image, only 2 percent of Ireland is native woodland, and all of it is in small fragments, like this eighty-acre remnant.

In the millennia that followed the last ice age, a great wood covered Ireland. The country’s folklore is populated by mythical warriors like Fionn mac Cumhaill, who was raised in secret in the forest of Sliabh Bladhma. His [...] tribe, the Fianna, roamed the great oak woods and were compared to a wolf pack.

But from the Stone Age on, waves of settlers cut, burned, and grazed the forests. The climate grew wetter too, and great bogs formed. The woods slowly withered and died. The last of Ireland’s great oak forests were gone by the end of the seventeenth century. 

But pockets of this ancient forest linger: on coastal headlands, on old country estates -- which never faced the same pressures as the land outside -- and in remote valleys, like the one [...].

These are among the last remnants of temperate rainforest in Europe.

Throughout the year, the Gulf Stream brings warm, moist air from the Caribbean up Ireland’s west coast, which would otherwise be as cold in winter as Labrador. The humid, oceanic woods of western Ireland and Scotland are some of the richest habitats in the world for mosses and liverworts [...].

I find one of these species, the tender liverwort Plagiochila spinulosa, growing thickly on a boulder of pink granite. I crouch down with my hand lens: Plagiochila is simple and fragile, its spiny yellow-green leaves just one cell thick. All around me, polypody ferns sprout from trees, and bright green lungwort lichens flake off hazel trunks. On the dark bellies of streamside boulders, tiny filmy ferns, thin and translucent, tremble and shine like slices of green glass. [...]

In some old Irish stories, wolves that denned in caves were seen as entering and exiting the otherworld. 

But there are no wolves left here; the last packs were hunted to extinction in the eighteenth century. Brown bears were driven to extinction over two thousand years ago. Wild boar and lynx are gone too, as are great auks, capercaillies, bitterns, ospreys, woodlarks, and at least 115 other species this country has lost.

“Here on the island of Ireland, we live in ghost-land,” the Irish environmental journalist Ella McSweeney said recently, “marked not by what is around to see and hear, but what is not.” She was speaking at a debate on rewilding, [...] and with it some of its former wild inhabitants. But this feels a far-off vision, given that so many of our surviving species (curlews, corncrakes) and habitats (raised bogs, wildflower-rich meadows) now cling to the precipice of extinction too, driven by a mix of agricultural intensification, sprawling development, intensive forestry, and peat extraction.

The once relatively rich habitats that slowly replaced the great woods over millennia -- large stretches of mountain heath, blanket bog, and pasture -- are now fading too.

So, Ireland’s ghost-lands grow.

-------

Lenny Antonelli. “In the Ghost Wood.” Orion Magazine. 2 March 2021.

[shuuenmei]

nychthemeron Pokémon Roster

I finally compiled the list of Pokémon that nychthemeron ! Yuu (Rei) had captured and will be introduced in the story.

This is compiled from my many game runs so they are a 100% fixed roster.

It took a while to compile due to me checking on the dates and the order of which I got them caught in the games and even now, I’m still compiling and looking into the orders of which I caught them in.

I’m going to compile their Natures down the line (And lots of updates will be done for this list) but for now, here’s the roster! 

This is put under the cut due to length.

The Pokémon are ordered based on who is first captured.

★ signifies a Shiny Pokémon

☺ signifies a Pokémon infected by Pokérus

Note: nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei) has her Alola main team party when first brought to Twisted Wonderland so this is why her main team is in party while the others are in the PC Box

Alola:

Aster (Solgaleo)

Brave Nature

Met at Mahalo Trail at Level 1

Status: Currently given to Selene

Gabriel (Primarina, Male)

Mild Nature

Met at Iki Town at Level 5

Status: In Party

Lyca (Dusk Lycanroc, Male)

Naughty Nature

Egg hatched in Hau’Oli City at Level 1

Status: In Party

Kris (Alolan Sandslash, Male)

Lonely Nature

Egg hatched in Hau’Oli City at Level 1

Status: In Party

Lucy (Zoroark, Female)

Serious Nature

Met in Alola’s Trainer School at Level 8

Status: In Party

Vivi (Noivern, Female)

Mild Nature

Met in Verdant Cavern at Level 12

Status: In Party

Fionne (Leafeon, Female)

Bold Nature

Met in Alola Route 6 at Level 17

Status: In Party

Cha (Hawlucha, Male)

Met at Alola Route 2 at Level 8

Status: In PC Box

Phantom (Gengar, Male)

Modest Nature

Met in Hau’Oli Cemetery at Level 8

Status: In PC Box

Darjeeling (Whimsicott, Male)

Naughty Nature

Met in Melemele Meadow at Level 11

Status: In PC Box

Gran (Decidueye, Male)

Jolly Nature

Egg hatched in Hea’Hea City

Status: In PC Box

Nero (Incineroar, Male)

Adamant Nature

Egg hatched in Hea’Hea City

Status: In PC Box

Arbo (Arbok, Male)

Met at Alola Route 8 at Level 25

Status: In PC Box

Elise (Alolan Ninetales, Female)

Met at Alola Route 8 at Level 20

Status: In PC Box

Belladonna (Salazzle, Female)

Calm Nature

Met in Wela Volcacno Park at Level 19

Status: In PC Box

Rye (Araquanid, Male)

Met at Malie Garden at Level 32

Status: In PC Box

Meg (Golisopod, Female)

Met at Alola Route 8 at Level 19

Status: In PC Box

Sol (Absol, Male)

Met at Mount Lanakilla at Level 32

Status: In PC Box

Necrozma

Met at Mount Lanakilla at Level 65

Status: Currently given to Selene

Diana (Crescelia, Female)

Met in Ultra Space at Level 65

Status: In PC Box

Aura (Amaura)

Modest Nature

Met at Alola Route 8 at Level 20

Status: in PC Box

Kite (Mantine)

Met at Hau’Oli Beach at Level 40

Status: In PC Box

Level range: 70-95

Additional Notes:

1: Aster the Solgaleo and Necrozma are essentially nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei)’s story relevant legendaries that will always be captured.

2: Crescelia is more to refer to the Ultra Warp Ride feature and Ultra Space in general for USUM.

3: Cha and Arbo are in-game trade Pokémon. I specifically traded to get the Arbok for an easy strategy trick to beat Totem Lurantis.

4: Elise is meant to be the same Alolan Vulpix that you befriended in a sidequest in USUM.

Galar:

Raphael (Intelleon, Male)

Met in Wedgehurst at Level 5

Status: In PC Box

Wednesday (Corviknight, Female)

Met in Galar Route 1 at Level 5

Status: In PC Box

Vane (Arcanine, Male)

Met in East Lake Axewell at Level 9

Status: In PC Box

Eustace (Mamoswine, Male)

Met in Rolling Fields at Level 8

Status: In PC Box

Alex (Toxtricity, Male)

Egg hatched in Route 5

Status: In PC Box

Beatrice (Hatterene, Female)

Met in Motostoke Outskirts at Level 24

Status: In PC Box

Saur (Venusaur, Male)

Met in Isle of Armor’s Master Dojo at Level 10

Status: In PC Box

Gumball (Goodra, Male)

Met in Rolling Fields at Level 25

Status: In PC Box

Troue (Ninetales, Male)

Met in East Lake Axewell at Level 8

Status: In PC Box

Onyx (Hydreigon, Female)

Obsidian (Hydreigon, Male)

Cappucinno (Cincinno, Female)

Cinno (Mincinno, Female)

Level Range: 60-90

Additional Notes:

1: Onyx and Obsidian are siblings.

2: Saur the Venusaur came to be from a recent Sword run (Via borrowing my brother’s copy along with the DLC)

Kalos:

Lionel (Greninja, Male, ☺)

Met in Lumiose City at Level 5

Status: In PC Box

Zard (Charizard, Male, ☺) 

Gentle Nature

Met in Lumiose City at Level 5

Status: In PC Box

Charlotte (Aegislash, Female, ☺)

Met in Kalos Route 6 at Level 11

Status: In PC Box

Noa (Sylveon, Male, ☺)

Quirky Nature

Met in Kalos Route 10 at Level 19

Status: In PC Box

Luca (Lucario, Male, ☺)

Hasty Nature

Met in the Tower of Master at Level 32

Status: In PC Box

Drake (Dragalge, Female, ☺)

Met in Kalos Route 8 at Level 25

Status: In PC Box

Buttercream (Emolga, Female, ★)

Timid Nature

Met in Kalos Route 10 at Level 19

Status: In PC Box

Tyr (Tyrunt, Male)

Adamant Nature

Status: In PC Box

Level Range: 35-80

Additional Notes:

1: Buttercream is the weakest of the Kalos captured mons. Tyr is untrained.

2: All but Buttercream and Tyr were infected with Pokérus.

3: Tyr is from the Fossil you obtained after you beat Team Flare the first time, you had the choice to pick the Sail fossil as well if you don’t pick the Jaw fossil.

Sinnoh:

Terra (Torterra, Male)

Gentle Nature

Met in Sangdem Town at Level 5

Status: In PC Box

Albert (Luxray, Male)

Brave Nature

Met in Sinnoh Route 202 at Level 3

Status: In PC Box

Penna (Staraptor, Female)

Naught Nature

Met in Sinnoh Route 202 at Level 3

Status: In PC Box

Cybele (Garchomp, Female)

Quiet Nature

Met in Turnback Cave at Level 19

Status: In PC Box

Eden (Glaceon, Male) 

Mild Nature

Met in Hearthome City at Level 20

Status: In PC Box

Gareth (Houndoom, Male)

Quiet Nature

Met in Sinnoh Route 214 at Level 23

Status: In PC Box

Sig (East Sea Gastrodon, Female)

Rash Nature

Met in Sinnoh Route 212 at Level 24

Status: In PC Box

Luce (Togekiss, Male)

Timid Nature

Egg hatched in Hearthome City at Level 1

Status: In PC Box

Rio (Riolu, Male)

Hasty Nature

Egg hatched in Canalave City at Level 1

Status: In PC Box

Freya (Shaymin)

Met in Floaroma Meadow at Level 70

Status: In PC Box

Level Range: 25-75

Additional Notes:

1: Rio is still a Young Riolu and thus he’s at level 25 still.

2: The reason nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei) has a Shaymin is more to link with USUM as you can obtain the Gracidea there, but Shaymin itself isn’t available beyond events in USUM.

3: Rio the Riolu and Luce the Togekiss are originally gift eggs in Platinum.

Kanto and Johto:

Sen (Typhlosion, Female)

Quiet Nature

Met in Newbark Town at Level 5

Status: In PC Box

Cro (Crobat, Male)

Quirky Nature

Ammy (Ampharos, Female)

Hasty Nature

Hera (Heracross, Male)

Hardy Nature

Tsubaki (Espeon, Female)

Lonely Nature

Met in Goldenrod City at Level 10

Fuyu (Lapras, Male)

Sassy Nature

Met in Turnback Cave at Level 25

Level Range: 70-75

Additional Notes:

1: I actually haven’t finished my Heart Gold run but this is what I believe to be their estimate level ranges by the time nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei) is brought to Twisted Wonderland.

2: There will be more Pokémon captured in Kanto down the line as well once I finished my Heart Gold run.

Hoenn:

Mikael (Blaziken, Male)

Bashful Nature

Status: In PC Box

Gallahad (Gallade, Male)

Status: In PC Box

Iris (Roserade, Female)

Status: In PC Box

Roland (Aggron, Male)

Status: In PC Box

Celeste (Altaria, Female)

Status: In PC Box

Kuro (Sharpedo, Male)

Status: In PC Box

Einheria (Milotic, Female)

Status: In PC Box

Level Range: 18-75

Unova

Orion (Samurott, Male)

Mild Nature

Status: In PC Box

Ozy (Braviary, Male)

Naughty Nature

Status: In PC Box

Chrome (Reuniculus, Female)

Modest Nature

Status: In PC Box

Zircon (Flygon, Male)

Naughty Nature

Status: In PC Box

Amber (Galvantula, Female)

Calm Nature

Status: In PC Box

Caro (Volcarona, Male)

Modest Nature

Status: In PC Box

Noir (Umbreon, Male)

Sassy Nature

Status: In PC Box

Jacky (Stoutland, Male)

Status: In PC Box

Level Range: 60-70

Additional Notes:

1: Ozy is the Hidden ability Braviary that you can find in White 2 every Monday.

2: Caro is the Volcarona from Relic Castle. In Black 2 White 2, you can capture a level 35 Volcarona as soon the Relic Passage is made available after clearing Driftveil gym. If you beat the level 35 Volcarona or don’t capture it until you beat the Elite Four and Champion, Volcarona can be fought and captured in Level 70 for the post-game.

Given Away

Geo (Dusk Lycanroc, Male)

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei)’s youngest brother

Lady (Furfrou, Female)

Status: Under the care of the Miyamizu’s in Alola

Scrooge (Alolan Persian, Male)

Status: Under the care of the Miyamizu’s in Alola

Gwen (Garchomp, Female)

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei)’s cousin-in-law in Kanto

Mare (Goodra, Male)

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei)’s oldest little brother

Kanga (Kangaskhan, Female)

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei) ‘s mother

Tempo (Sawsbuck, Male)

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei)’s father

Katalina (West Sea Gastrodon, Female)

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei) ‘s mother

Machop (Male, ★)

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei)’s cousin-in-law in Kanto

Mont Blanc (Furret, Female)

Status: Under the care of the Miyamizu’s in Alola

Alcremie Quintet:

Minty (Mint cream Alcremie), Ochako (Matcha cream Alcremie), Lemmy (Lemon cream Alcremie), Nanase (Rainbow swirl Alcremie), Vanille (Vanilla cream Alcremie)

Status: Working and living with nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei)’s parents in their cafe.

Drampa

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei)’s cousin in Kanto

Magnolia (Lilligant, Female)

Status: Given to nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei) ‘s mother

Additional notes:

1: There are two Own Tempo Rockruff eggs I saved up from a previous run. The second egg is Geo while the first egg is Lyca.

2: Gwen the Garchomp and Mare the Goodra are captured for Aether Foundation related quests in USUM

3: Tempo is the free Hidden ability Deerling you can get from the Weather Institute in B2W2

4: Most of the fossils that nychthemeron! Yuu (Rei) had are either gifted to her by Olivia or found in Poké Pelago. She only revives a handful and gave any others she found to Aether Foundation since she isn’t fully invested with fossil revival. She only revived two fossil mons at most (Her Tyrunt and Amaura).

5: Machop is a shiny I caught in my Alpha Sapphire fanfic run (Funny story, I was trying to see if I can find a Shiny Swablu but couldn’t find one so I skipped ahead to continue the story to try Shiny hunting a Swablu on a later date and found him instead). He’s un-nicknamed at the moment.

[teatitty]

Birga was also super venomous to the fae folk too. We know this cuz in the boyhood deeds Fionn chucks it into one of the fairy hills after some dude (Aed, the son of Fidga, don’t worry about the specifics of why) and then is like “well someone definitely died but idk who the fuck it was so” and then saw a fae woman and seized her to pledge for his spear, to which she agreed if he released her

He does and as she throws it back out he hears her wailing/complaining: 

Venom the spear, And venom the hand that threw it If it is not cast out of the knoll, A murrain (plague/epidemic) will seize the land

Also in this same story we actually get to see one of Fionn’s own poems! He came up with the whole thing on the spot, which is super fucking impressive for a literal child. Obviously this poem was translated from ancient irish to latin to english so it’s probably not as “smooth” or “pretty” as it used to be but here it is anyway (note: “may-day” is Beltane)

May-day, season surpassing! Splendid is colour then. Blackbirds sing a full lay, if there be a slender shaft of day. The dust-coloured cuckoo calls aloud: Welcome, splendid summer! The bitterness of bad weather is past, the boughs of the wood are a thicket. Summer cuts the river down, the swift herd of horses seeks the pool, the long hair of the heather is outspread, the soft white bog-down grows. Panic startles the heart of the deer, the smooth sea runs apace-season when ocean sinks asleep-blossom covers the world. Bees with puny strength carry a goodly burden, the harvest of blossoms; up the mountain-side kine take with them mud, the ant makes a rich meal. The harp of the forest sounds music, the sail gathers-perfect peace. Colour has settled on every height, haze on the lake of full waters. The corncrake, a strenuous bard, discourses; the lofty virgin waterfall sings a welcome to the warm pool; the talk of the rushes is come. Light swallows dart aloft, loud melody reaches round the hill, the soft rich mast buds, the stuttering quagmire rehearses. The peat-bog is as the raven’s coat, the loud cuckoo bids welcome, the speckled fish leaps, strong is the bound of the swift warrior. Man flourishes, the maiden buds in her fair strong pride; perfect each forest from top to ground, perfect each great stately plain. Delightful is the season’s splendor, rough winter has gone, white is every fruitful wood, a joyous peace in summer. A flock of birds settles in the midst of meadows; the green field rustles, wherein is a brawling white stream. A wild longing is on you to race horses, the ranked host is ranged around: A bright shaft has been shot into the land, so that the water-flag is gold beneath it. A timorous tiny persistent little fellow sings at the top of his voice, the lark sings clear tidings: surpassing May-day of delicate colours!

[lcklustering]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭     —     𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤  !    hey there, i’m loey and welcome to my crib.   you’re definitely going to want to click on the image above to view it in its full splendor because t*mblr is a bitch and reduces the quality.   you’re going to be meeting the only man i’ll ever consider dating and who just wants to be back on his family farm with his family.   he’s not much for words but he’s a great listener and take care of your plants when you’re away.   if you want to get a piece of this lovely irishman, please  leave a like  and i’ll come sliding into your dms with a joke or a pun   —   whichever i find funnier at the time.

waves crashing up against boat .  fog laying low on an abandoned meadow full of wildflowers .  quiet serenity of walking through a field barefooted .  lingering smell of gun smoke in the air .  softs bahs of lambs .  high-stressed situations being calmed down by a friend's smile .     ———     oh gosh, sorry      𝐅𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐍  𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐇 !     i didn't see you there !   y'know, i can't believe you're already TWENTY-SEVEN years old; seems like just yesterday you were tripping over yourself, or was that yesterday ?   just kidding, just kidding !   anyway, i hear that you've    been here since 1916,    or so you think; congratulations !   at least that shining DECISIVE personality of yours hasn't changed a bit, especially that 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃-𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 + 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓, but 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 + 𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 way about you.  look, i gotta get back to the group, but i'll see you around !

trigger warning(s):   religious themes,  death,  death of a loved one,  pregnancy,  war,  drowning.

a humble sheep farmer.

siblings:  one older sister, three younger sisters, and two younger brothers.

met the love of his life when he was 19, imogen, and they were married when he was 21.

built a cottage on his father’s land for them and their future family.

shortly after their marriage, they were expecting their first child.

the pregnancy was really hard on imogen and the baby came early at almost 8 months.

imogen died during childbirth due to major loss of blood, but gave birth to a baby boy and named him callum - after his father.

when callum was two, he was being watched by fionn’s sister, shannon, when he traveled too far away and got lost.

they looked for him and soon found him near a river, completely drenched, and he became extremely sick.

tried to get him better but little callum passed away.

after two deaths of the people he loved the most, fionn pretty much swore off love and focused back into helping his father’s farm.

when world war 1 came around, he immediately volunteered to the british royal navy.

he was soon assigned to the hms queen mary.

on  may 21, 1916, the queen mary was in the battle of jutland.

the queen mary was shot at repeatedly and split in two, causing multiple explosions.

somehow, fionn survived the explosions but fighting the ocean would be the next challenge.

only after a few minutes, he was starting to drown due to just fighting to keep his eyes open.

he was saved by hms laurel and was 1 out of 17 crewmen to survive the sinking of queen mary.   in total, there were 1,266 crewmen who, sadly, didn't make it.

was stabilized on laurel and found out that he had broken multiple bones and had several lacerations.

laurel immediately docked at portsmouth, england and rushed the survivors they saved to the hospital.

fionn was in the hospital for about a month before moved to a newly-renovated hotel nearby to rest up more due to overcrowding.

this is when he was taken to raven house.

up above was just a very simple background outline, i’m working on writing up a more formal background and i’ll be posting fionn’s full application soon so then you can read the answers to the questions.   i do have some statistics up on the blog, which will be linked here.   you can always read that as well but it’s pretty simple.  down below are some headcanons that i have for him.

born and raised in ireland until he volunteered for the war.

has a pretty large family, consisting of 4 sisters and 2 brothers.

left-handed originally, but was forced to write right-handed making him ambidextrous.

smells of cigarette smoke, vanilla, and the faint briny sea

he doesn’t talk much but when he does, it’s a thick irish accent.

his family farm was raising sheep and the occasional cow.

he loves fishing.   even taught his younger siblings to fish.

he loves dogs, even had 3 of them back on the farm.

his hotel room is full of plants and spends most of his time at the rooftop garden.

is pansexual but not really looking for love.

has his wedding band on his dogtag.

[arianakristine]

Title: Between the Shadow and the Soul, Chapter 17 Note: Beginning a form break, this one takes place just a little before Chapter 16.

*

*

                It starts of dreams of warm.

               He wakes, puzzled, wondering why his skin feels sun-kissed whilst in the depths of his tent, in the middle of a snow-filled forest. The strange feeling lingers, through all wind-swept days and bitter nights. It goes like this for days.

               He doesn’t often dream. That’s not exactly true; he has dreams now and then, but they are more memories tied with his fears. The peace he gets from sleep is from the dreamless nights, and the best are when she is in his arms and he doesn’t have the need to dream at all. This is why it has been disconcerting these past few weeks in the middle of a battlefield, his subconscious mind slowly blurring strange visions for him to ponder through in the daytime.

               After awhile, the dreams evolved. They had shaped into feelings, contented and soft and loved. Foggy and unnatural but comforting, he had woken to the feeling that something intangible was slipping through his fingers. It is similar to when he reaches for her; something about her magic makes her presence available for his to seek even from a distance. So, he will wake and connect with her, feeling her search for him in turn, and it is almost the feeling he has when asleep.

               But not quite.

He’s spent days fighting as if he were fighting for that feeling. He sought the connection to her that lays deep within him as he drifted to sleep, comparing. At least with this he can always feel her safety and he can be contented with that. The dreams are close, indeed, enough to know they connect to her, but not the same. There was something he was missing in being separated from her physically.

               Slowly, the visions shaped, hazy at first. Always the same, never quite reachable. Greenry and warmth, the smell of dew, and above all else love. It makes him yearn for sleep during the day when all he finds in the light is bloodshed and anger.

               Last night had been the clearest yet. Again, he found himself at the riverbed that Emma loves. He used to associate it with Fionn, with his childhood. Now, he sees her smile and her mussed curls and her sparkling eyes whenever he imagines it. It is no wonder that he sees blonde whenever this place appears, but his vision had finally cleared to full view.

There had been the small blonde child on its banks, just as there had been all time times before. She was in a pale yellow dress in expensive fabrics, colors of the earth painting the hem as she fished rocks from the mud and then laid in the tall grasses and wildflowers, the sweet sound of her laughter muted by the rustling wind and flowing river. He had thought her to be Emma in all his other dreams; perhaps imagining her as she was, in an innocent time, a fleeting wish against the death and destruction of battle. But finally on this night he could see that her eyes did not match, not the same chin nor the same nose. But as she stretched her arms out to reach for him, her smile … it was Emma’s smile exactly.

               He stumbles to his feet, breaths hard as he glances wildly around the empty tent. He sucks in a deep breath and braces against the table next to his cot. He is no stranger to magic, but he has never had it touch on him this way before. It is pure but fragile, its fingerprint barely noticeable but enough that he is sure it is not just fantasy.  

               He is certain, as much as if he had been told. The child … the child is Emma’s. Emma is pregnant.

               He waits, his face wet with tears as he blinks rapidly, grappling with the knowledge. He inhales a long breath, and he waits for the regret and guilt to fill him.

The things are inevitable, right? After all, he’s put Emma, put this precious child, in danger just by allowing the treason to go on for so long. It is his fault for allowing it, for continuing to love his princess and to lose himself in her as often as he did. He should have known better, to insist on the distance and let her find someone more suited. It is what he’s been sure of through the entirety of their relationship: that though he loves her with every fiber of himself, theirs is not one for a happy ending. Now that he has given her a child, something to tie her to him for life, he must feel guilt.

               Instead, he feels as a softer, outlandish feeling makes his heart swell. Theirs. They created someone new out of themselves. No matter what happens to him next, there will be a little girl that is half of him, that is half of her. The part of his soul that can feel Emma can now recognize the tiny imprint of their child as well.  

               She must know now, too, must’ve known well before. It has been at least ten weeks since they last saw each other, and she must be at least that long pregnant if not further. How must’ve she reacted? Do her parents know well by now, would they know of him? The last thought should snap his focus, but instead he warms. He pictures how Emma must look, how her belly must round to accommodate their baby, and his heart squeezes.

               A smile crosses his face, slow and steady, and he trickles out a laugh as more tears slide down his face. He is happy. For all he shouldn’t be, he is happy.

               He hears a distant shout from outside, followed by a quick burst of laughter, and he sobers immediately. Right. It is morning. The men are awake and preparing for another round of battle. The men he leads that hate him, fighting against the men that believe in Regina.

               He growls to himself and drags his hand over his face. He suddenly feels a dagger of worry pierce him: Snow’s progeny. His daughter … she will be Snow’s granddaughter, the stuff of prophecy. Regina will use everything in her powers to be sure that child will never be born, will hurt Emma to see to it.

               White-hot rage piques within him, until he cannot see straight. His feelings of happiness are covered by the instinct to protect, to eliminate all that may threaten the only two beings in this world that he loves.

He will kill her first. Before she has a chance to even turn her eye towards Emma, he will kill her. If he needed another reason to see her dead, this is more than enough. The tent is stifling, and he wants to tear through the entirety of the rebellion to get to the Usurper.

               Another part of him insists that he needs to be home. He needs to be with Emma. He needs to hold her and press his lips to hers until she is breathless, needs to tell her how much he loves her and how much he loves their daughter already. He needs to be there to protect them, to fight back anyone that so much as looks at her with ill-intent.

               And he cannot do either of these things, not in a timely manner, because of these imbeciles that believe in a monster.

               He can’t seem to get a handle on his emotions. He hasn’t had this little control since he was young, and knows it is not smart. He needs to get his head on straight before he can think of charging into battle once again.

               He rips out of the tent. The cold wind scatters across the tears on his face, and he ducks his head as he shuffles outside. The sky is still dotted in stars, dawn barely approaching. He rushes to the tree line, away from the bulk of the garrison gathering in the meadow. He leans his head against the trunk and rocks his head back and forth, willing himself to calm down.

               They are safe for now. He reminds himself of that a few more times, over and over. For now, they are safe.

               “Huntsman?”

               He turns sharply, finding a single man huddled next to a small fire several yards away. His shoulders relax somewhat, and he inclines his head. “Roland. I—I was just collecting myself.”

               The other man shakes his head and gestures to the stone opposite the fire. “Go ahead.”

               He hesitates, and then sets himself down. At least in this company, he is welcome.

Both the younger and the elder Locksley have been strangely kind to him. The best he has ever been shown before has been wariness, with Snow and David included. It remains foreign to find the trust so simply earned in another human, let alone two. The elder had made some crack about always trusting fellow archers, even though it was clearly not the end of whatever caused his inclination. Roland had followed his father’s intuition, and in the past weeks they had found a comradery despite everything.

               If there are ever any humans to be around for his emotions to settle, it will be him.

               “Nightmares?”

               He looks up, startled by the ventured question. He reaches up and feels the tears still on his face. “Oh,” he murmurs simply, and sighs.

               Roland pokes at the fire with a stick and bobs his head. “There is enough fodder for that, I think.”

               “No, no, it’s not that,” he denies, and rubs the back of his neck. He swallows. “Just … dreams.”

               Roland’s dark eyes raise, and he tilts his head. “Dreams?” he questions.

               He tosses a handful of bramble into the fire. He stares into the flames and, despite himself, can feel a smile edge along his lips once again as he pictures her. Again, he reaches for them within himself, finding the swell of their presence in him. “Dreams,” he confirms, and then rubs the spot over his heart. “A future.”

               Roland relaxes and levels a piece of meat over the flames. “Ah, I see. I have heard of these kinds of dreams before.”

               He looks up, and his brow furrows. He is sure he was being vague enough. “What do you mean?”

               The other man smiles. “You are a hard one to read, Captain, and I would assume that it would take a certain kind of dream to pull such emotion from you.” He grabs another stick and begins to thread the meat over it, but Graham shakes his head.

               “I thank you, but I find myself not hungry this morning.”

               “Nonsense,” Roland protests and continues without pause. “We are nearer to the towns today and so the battle will be fierce. You need fuel if you expect to take them on.”

               “I—” he pauses, and finally nods. “Thank you.”

               He gives a short nod in response. “I think that the codebreaker has a better handle on the intel,” Roland continues, his dark eyes reflecting the flames in the bare dawn. He raises his gaze to him and offers a weak smile. “We might have the chance to steal back the hearts, if not today then tomorrow.”

               Graham is silent a beat, considering. The news is promising, but he remains cautious. “I do find your optimism refreshing,” he offers. They had been pushed closer to Misthaven’s borders, something that had kept him out of his mind with worry. But if Roland’s optimism is to be matched and they are able to turn the tides of this battle so soon, then he should be home to her in a few days’ time rather than the weeks it took to get to the front.

               Roland smiles fully and rocks a hand back and forth through his wild hair. “Optimism it may be, but not for long. I have a good feeling on this,” he says ardently. “It should be key in swaying favor. Once hearts begin returning, they must see how we fight for them, how the Usurper does not. The war could be ended in days instead of months.”

He smiles at the man, and considers him a moment. Sometimes Graham reminds himself that this is the type of man Emma should be with. Roland is closer to her age and he is kind and passionate, willing to fight for his beliefs. He is a good man and a good match, and Graham would even be happy to see him with her.

               At least, that’s what he’s tried to convince himself of. He’s less willing to try and persuade himself of that today, knowing that he will be coming home to more than he expected.

               Roland hands him over the food and grins slyly. “We could be on our way to our future as soon as then.”

               Graham warms, but says nothing as he takes the offered meat.

               “That is what you dreamt of, isn’t it?” Roland asks seriously. “The future that will indeed come to pass?”

               He freezes and meets his gaze warily.

               “My father used to speak of these dreams, of ones he had when my mother was alive.”

               Graham takes in his words a long moment. “You assume too much, here,” he says lowly in denial.

               His smile changes slightly, a little more knowing. “Perhaps. But I think you will know what I am speaking of when I say that my father began to dream of a future, of a very specific, very handsome child, just as his love learned of her pregnancy.”

               His jaw tightens. He doesn’t say anything to confirm or to deny, but he feels the stir of alarm.

               Roland seems to notice his tension, and his posture opens, nonthreatening. “They had true love, my parents. They were both as committed to justice as they were to each other, though, which was the cause of her ultimate demise,” he says softly.

               Graham stiffens, and he remembers the lovely woman who shared her son’s eyes. He hadn’t been the one to execute Regina’s command, but he had tended to her in the prisons. She hadn’t a name then, just another prisoner in the long list Regina kept. It was only after piecing together stories from the King, Queen, and the Locksleys that he knows that she was Marian.

               Without a heart, he couldn’t admire her the way he can now, but he had felt something akin to that, mutedly. She had stood strong throughout her imprisonment, her lips sealed even at the ledge of the stocks. She had resolve, and would not be moved by Regina’s threats and actions.

He knows he would do the same as she, to lay down his life for his family, for Snow White’s family, so he cannot think of her as anything but heroic. He wonders, morbidly, if this path will be as optimistic as her son believes, or if he will only live on in his child as his mother does in Roland.

               He finds that he is again too selfish to hope for it. He does not want to die for them; he wants to live for them. And this time, he doesn’t merely wish for a few heartbeats of more time with her, he wants a lifetime with them. It is the first time he allows himself such a hope, even if there is part of him preparing to witness her happiness from a distance as he had always assumed he would.

               Roland shakes his head, and takes a bite of his food. “I know what they say about you, Captain. But I think if there is enough in a dream of ‘a future’ to cause that much emotion, I believe it must be because you love someone back home as much as my father loved my mother.”

               His face heats, and he wonders when he became so easily read. Again, his hand shifts over his heart, rubbing the spot carefully. “I cannot say for certain,” he says simply, not quite a lie. While he can barely admit it to himself and certainly has not confirmed it to anyone, he knows he shares true love with Emma. But he knows nothing about the love Robin and Marian shared.

               Roland leans back and chuckles slightly, a knowing grin on his face. He doesn’t press further, and instead raises his gaze past him. The soldiers are steadily rising, the sun cresting over the hill. “It appears our breakfast time is nearing its end. Are you prepared for another bout?”

               He shifts and drops the skewer to the side of the pit. “As ever,” he says, and then meets his gaze seriously. “Keep to the trees. The villagers are not adept in hand-to-hand battle, but some should be hunters with enough knowledge of weaponry. Be sure you know your angles, know what spots will keep you protected.”

               He nods and rises. He hesitates a moment before dropping a hand on his shoulder. “You as well. We have our futures to meet, Huntsman.”

               He inclines his head and pats his hand in acknowledgement. He makes his way back to his tent, ready to don his armor and level another command over his garrison.

               Maybe his future will be met sooner than he thinks.

*

               Hours of battle later, and he feels no closer to the end of this war. The hearts are not to be found per the intel, and thus they are running after rebels without an end goal other than to stamp the rebellion.

               He has seen men on both sides fall at an alarming rate, but he is somehow still fighting. He doesn’t acknowledge exhaustion or pain or the odds. He knows he is the first line of defense for his family, and so his whole heart is thrown into the fight.

               And then he sees her.

               He knows immediately it is her, feels the chill of her presence along his spine like ghostly fingers. Just a flash, and then she is gone into the fog like a specter.

               He flies another arrow into the rebels, and yanks free another from his quill, scanning the field for another glimpse. She is here. They must be close, must be nearing the endgame if she has chosen this battle to show herself.

               Swords clash to his right, and he whips to find that the skirmishes have closed in. He looses the last arrow into the rebel grappling with one of his men.

There, again.

Slipping further away, the rebels closer must only be a distraction. It has been decades since he has seen her, but she is burned into his scars. There is a hint of magic along her skirts, hair darkened and skin smoothed by some glamour as not to show her age, making her unmistakable.  

               He spins past the peasants fighting her battles, pulling his sword from his belt. He ignores his bow and his position as he stalks in the direction she took. He slashes through threats along the way but barely sees them, focus narrowed.

               He has a chance. He could end this today.

               He could keep his family safe.

               He trips into a clearing, a dark swath of hair and a ridiculously embellished gown catching the light through the trees. He takes a breath, and silently crosses the tree line to approach her. He feels anticipation curl into his gut as he desperately tries to temper the fury so he can see straight.

She is headed away, but she is slow and fettered. All the threat she had once posed is muted by time. She is unprepared, doesn’t see his approach. His heart hammers within him, caution warring with the feeling that he will win.

The sword he never trusted himself with suddenly the only answer, and he wields it over his head with a strength he didn’t know he possessed. He pictures Emma spinning gracefully through her forms, but knows his is more monstrous than the ones she took.

               Regina turns just in time for his blade to pierce through her middle, and her eyes startle wide. His eyes flash with contentment to see the surprise in hers, as her mouth drops in a silent scream. He twists the blade, hoping that she feels every second of the pain.

               His heart drops when her scream turns to a smile, and her dark eyes sharpen. “Oh, pet. You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

               The sword disappears, dissolving to atom. He stumbles back, hands now empty. He grabs the bow from his shoulder and aims instead, but finds his quiver empty.

               Her lips twist, and her teeth are bright as she grins. She steps away from the tree, hips swaying. “I know it’s been some time, but have you forgotten all that I can do? I’ve waited a long time for these days. There is only one way to be rid of me, and it is not by your hand.”

               “Regina,” he growls, and tightens his grip to turn the bow into a club.

               “Now, now. You are not the one I want, dear,” she purrs. She has that look she used to always have, the one that said that she had the upper hand and would do what she wanted with it.“

               He swings, even knowing it will be useless, a last-ditch effort to keep his future safe. She raises a hand to stop his effort, his whole body frozen as he watches the amusement in her dark gaze. She traces his form with those eyes and her lips curl.

               “But, I will admit, you will be a useful tool in getting me my prize.”

               Her hand comes forward, and his last thought before black encroaches his vision is of his family.

               He will be prepared for whatever future keeps them safe.

[onceuponawildflower]

wind 🌪 and bones 💀

wind 🌪 - what music do you normally listen to?

These days, I’ve been listening to a lot of instrumental stuff. Mostly ambient music, some classical. Depending on the day, I’ll also listen to some nu-funk/r&b/jazz, 70s tunes, worldly music, and tunes alluding to mysticism and spirituality. Occasionally a sprinkling of indie in there too.

Some options of each category mentioned, for your auditory pleasure...

Ambient: Joey Pecoraro, ford., biosphere, In Love With A Ghost, potsu, Arbour, Chihiro, Cosmo Sheldrake, Soda Island, Beautiful Chorus, Alan Gogoll, mxmtoon, Izzard

Classical: Dvorak, Ravel, Whitacre, Vivaldi, gregorian chants, Smetana, Olafur Arnalds, Alice Sara Ott, Tchaikovsky, Bartok, Mendelssohn, Liszt, Sibelius, Bruch, Franck, Elgar, Ludovico Einaudi, the Pride and Prejudice OST

Nu-Folk/R&B/Jazz: Sammy Rae, Evann McIntosh, Chance Thrash, Vivian Tran, SATICA, Surfaces, Ravyn Lenae, Summer Salt, Kendall Miles, Tom Misch, Daniela Andrade, Fletcher Reed, Bedouine, edbl, Ella Fitzgerald, Melody Gardot, Esperanza Spalding

70s: John Denver, Van Morrison, Cat Stevens, Paul Simon, Nick Drake, Donovan, James Taylor, Simon & Garfunkel, Joni Mitchell

Worldly: Asha Bhosle, Herbie Mann, ChocQuibTown, Quantic, Amadou & Mariam, St Germain, Boddhi Satva, Yves Montand, Xavier Rudd, Nahko and Medicine for the People, Te Vaka, Kawika Alfiche, Nonosina, Tahiti Ora, La Bottine Souriante, Solomon Ilori, Rhythm Future Quartet, DJ Drez, Ceu, Celtic Woman, The Ollam, Satsang, Rising Appalachia, a whole bunch of Irish music

Mystical/Spiritual: Cosmo Sheldrake, Ayla Nereo, Anuna, Anilah, leon chang, Erutan, Christen Mooney, Eivor, S.J. Tucker, Yaima, Fia, Trevor Hall

Indie: Fionn Regan, Pamplemousse, Crumb., Superorganism, Sufjan Stevens, Laura Marling, dodie, Sara Bareilles, King Princess, Fiona Apple, Rosi Golan, Phoebe Bridgers, Gregory and the Hawk, Slow Meadow, Frightened Rabbit, Seabear, Lisa Hannigan, Keaton Henson, Ant Law, Linnea Henriksson, Haley Heyndrickx, HONNE, Eefje de Visser, RY X, Bruno Major, Moux, Julianna Zachariou

bones 💀 - what’s a hobby that you quit doing? do you miss it?

I pretty much stopped playing flute. I’ve played it more or less for 17 years. I used to be really good. Like contest winning, principal chair in regional orchestra good. I miss that aspect, I miss being great at something, being able to pour my soul into something and see it pay off. Flute wasn’t my favorite interest though. I wish I could transfer to those skills to fiddle or cello. When I play cello, which I’m slowly learning, I often get frustrated because I can’t express myself how I want to bc of my limitations in knowledge and experience. I miss being able to make music and play it with others. I miss that aspect a lot. 

[briannas1x1]

i. the bereft

name: Faolan Meallán / Faolan ap Mór Ríoghain

pronounce: FAY-o-lahn MEHL-awn

nickname: No.

birthday: Spring 513

species: full-blooded fae

occupation: blacksmith

location: Lethe, Washington, USA

hometown: long forgotten

sexuality: demiromantic

gender identity: cisgender male

ii. the appearance

Faceclaim: Chris Pine

Height: 6′0

Weight: 170 lbs 

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Blue

Dominant hand: Left

Scars: Two on his neck from the vampire attack that killed his family / one across his chest from the same time. Both lingered unattended long enough to scar.

Tattoos: Script of his kid’s names (Bran, Deirdre, Alanna) wrapped around around a briar rose; his wife’s name (Caoimhe) on his back.

Piercings: None.

iii. the family

Mother: Morrigan

Father: Alistair

Siblings: Clíodhna ap Mór Ríoghain, Fionn ap Mór Ríoghain, various half-siblings.

Children: Bran Meallán (10, deceased), Deirdre Meallán (5, deceased), Alanna Meallán (11 months, deceased), Rian Samson, Fiona Laughlin (niece/pseudo-daughter), Niamh Rowan (stepdaughter)

Other Family: Arthur Talbot (brother-in-law), Ciaran Meadowes (nephew), Phoebe Meadowes (niece)

Partner: Caoimhe Meallán

Pets: a black-irish wolfhound named Aoife

iv. the personality

MYERS-BRIGGS: ENTP

ENNEATYPE: Type 5, the Investigator

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff

QUALITIES: Charming, Ambitious, Perfectionist, Loyal, Sentimental

FLAWS: Self-sacrificing, Vain, Distrustful, Grim, Vengeful

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Sidhe, Irish, Gaelic, Greek, Spanish

v. about

For all the bravado Faolan uses as a shield, there’s something about him fundamentally broke, something that fell apart so long ago that few have the words to explain it. He grew up the son of a neglectful woman named Morrigan, one who left her son to roam the Otherlands alone for a decade before depositing a younger sister into his care. They trusted only each other, refusing to fall prey to other dangerous forces, scraping together a living from the work Faolan could take. He learned blacksmithing on his own, finding a talent in making weapons and tools, learning to fight from the people who required them until he, too, was an accomplished swordsman. Before long, people didn’t remember them as another set of hapless orphans, he was a craftsman and his sister a tailor, low in the Otherland hierarchy, but no longer begging to live. Faolan never knew if the name they made for themselves is what drew Morrigan’s attention, or if their mother had never quite let them escape her grasp, but it was several centuries later - a blink to some fae - when their mother deposited another sibling into Faolan’s arms: Fionn. The sibling banded together for a time, though the draw of something more drew Clíodhna from the Otherlands. Only a few decades after that, betrayal sent Fionn and Faolan to the human realms where their lives were forced to start over.

Someone who knew Faolan now would not recognize the man he was upon arriving in the human realm sometime in the 11th century. Charming and gregarious, he had no qualms with using his gifts to the superstitious humans, never quite making roots in this wild world. His brother bounced in and out of his life, caught up in the allure of this wild world, as Faolan himself often was. It was during his near hanging that he met Caoimhe Meallán who saved his life and offered her hand of friendship. Some centuries later: her hand in marriage. If anyone asked the day his bravado became a shield rather a personality trait, he would say it was winter in Ireland with his wife and three children, and the vampire who took their lives. His survival, like all the other things he had lived through, came from luck, leaving him only with scars and a healthy distaste for anything vampiric. It was a mistake to give someone old as he something to love and then take it away - and he couldn’t tell you what became of him in the centuries to follow. Every bit of it was a blur until the small town his sister chose to call home became a magnet for danger. Now the twenty-first century, Faolan finds himself waking up from a deep sleep, once more taking up the mantle and responsibility of caring for family - and he’s learned that love finds a way as his heart finds its home once more.

vi. misc

threads

tags

pinterest

[faolanmeadowes]

heavy as a curse / faolan & fionn

Date: November 04, 2020 Time: 4:52pm Location: On the trail, heading to the river. 

@fionnolonan​

His house is quiet in a way he dreads, and Faolan avoids it. Not difficult to accomplish when the last few days have been spent around Gabriel, trying to squeeze a century’s worth of talking into just a couple days. He’s leaving Gabriel and Aurélie for a day to themselves, and instead he’ll... What? Go rest at home, as his son had tried to threaten, but Faolan only snorts to imagine going home with all its painful silence. Searching seems like a better idea, and let his family call it hopeless wandering, it’s better than nothing, and it guides him from one moment until the next. When everything is gone, sometimes one step in front of the other is the only thing one can do, and he is very familiar with this type of dance.

He isn’t quite to the river, too busy debating which way to go, and which way he went last, when Faolan stops in his tracks. Empathy has a distinct feel to it after a while, and familiar people tend to hit it when they wander too close. His own empathy is wrapped up tight and stuffed in a box for safe-keeping on most days, but a stupid part of him hopes he’ll feel Fiona long before he sees her. This tug on his empathy, this familiarity, is enough to make him flinch for a moment, a desperate hope in his gut, one that’s swiftly doused as he prods it a little more. Not Fiona, no matter how similar they are. Gods, how hadn’t he noticed from the moment he met her that she was Fionn’s daughter? 

"Fionn,” he calls, swallowing his pride and his discomfort, picking up his pace and stopping. Just short of Fionn, unable to step closer when it feels as though an invisible wall is sprouting between them. It’s barbed with their last words to each other and poisoned by all the things to come after. Oh, and how that stops the breath in his lungs, too. What stories they have for each other, if they could give the other a chance to speak them, if Faolan can find a way back in. Does he want one? Hell if he knows. Faolan studies him, taking in the changes that two centuries have done to them both. “Where have you been?” Not for two centuries, no, Faolan isn’t sure he wants to know, because opening the door for those questions opens the door for the rest. But here, in Lethe, where was he while his daughter was gone? “Did not think you would be coming back.” And that’s a lie, he thinks, as soon as its out. Fionn is loyal, and his running is only the same trait he and all the other Meadowes share. “That you would want to,” he corrects with a weary sigh.

[lethe-rpg]

The following characters have been inactive for more than (1) month. To continue using these characters, they need to either contact the admins to request a hiatus or resume activity by 2/6/2020. The list is as follows:

Ben Rivera

Charlie Engels

Damien Cadoc

Drucilla Wade

Fionn Meadowes

Gage Martell

Hale Avci

Inej Arslan

Jin Slora

Katherine Antrim

Katia Kjar

Matt Miles

Maya Brennan

Milena Ocanas

Orion Faulkner

Penny Riot

Rafael Nova

Riley Voss

Terry Bradshaw

Please let us know if you have any questions! If we hear nothing from you by 2/6/2020 an unfollow will be posted for your character(s).

ADMIN H & ADMIN M

[fionnolonan]

I. THE SIMPLE THINGS FULL NAME: Fionn a Mór Ríoghain CURRENT ALIAS: Fionn Ó Lonán PAST ALIASES: Fionn Meadowes, and many, many more besides. HOW TO SAY IT: Fee-unn, like Ian with an F, emphasis on the back half. Sounds a lot like Finn, but not quite.  DATE OF BIRTH: Summer. That’s it. Summer, in the Otherlands, a long, long time ago.  AGE: 1002, in earthly years.  OCCUPATIONS: Artist, horse catcher, horse thief, pickpocket, bootlegger, drug dealer, highwayman, bank robber, general musician, and wedding, wake, and bar singer, in particular. LANGUAGES: Sidhe, Gaelige, English, a conversational and rusty smattering of others.

II. THE LOOKS FACE CLAIM: Cillian Murphy HEIGHT: 5′ 7′′ BUILD: Wiry  HAIR COLOR: Black REAL HAIR COLOR: Blonde EYE COLOR: Blue DOMINANT HAND: Left SCARS: Several. As a fae, he does heal better than a human might; but he’s a bar-fighting bastard, and he’s taken his share of licks. The most noticeable at present are a slash across his right eyebrow, a gash just under his chin, some scarring across his knuckles, the faint traces of a stabbing in his right forearm, and, of course, the gruesome gut wound that’s not quite a scar yet - that cuts down from just over the left side of his ribs, curving and zagging down to the lower right side of his belly.  TATTOOS: Many, mostly his own art - some are Aurora’s. Botanicals, animals, and constellations are major themes. PIERCINGS: Earlobes, intermittently. Not at present. 

III. THE RAMBLINGS BORN TO: The Otherlands PAST RESIDENCES: Many, most briefly, quite a few very poorly recalled due to immoderate consumption of various substances. He started in medieval Ireland, anyway... CURRENT RESIDENCE: Lethe, Washington CRIMINAL RECORD: Yes. Several. Under a few names.  SOUVENIRS: Having lost plenty along the way and left behind just about everything on his mad scramble out of Nevada, his last port of call, all Fionn currently has to remember his adventures and mishaps by are his many tattoos, a couple old keys on a fine chain, a string of carnelian beads, and a ceremonial silver dagger that he stole from a fae noble back in the Otherlands. Which is, coincidentally, why he and Faolan (mostly him, Faolan by association) got kicked out into the mortal world in the first place. It was going to be a gift.

IV. THE TIES MOTHER: Mór Ríoghain a Fionnuala FATHER: Who even knows, honestly? SIBLINGS: Faolan and Cora a Mór Ríoghain/Meadowes IN LAWS, OR CLOSE TO: Sabine Devereux, Arthur Talbot NIBLINGS: Gabriel Maddox, Katia Kjar, Riley Voss LOVED AND LOST: Aurora Wilson CHILDREN: Fiona Laughlin

V. THE WAYS MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral QUALITIES: Creative, perceptive, generous, charismatic, gregarious FLAWS:  Flighty, irresponsible, opportunistic, defensive, stubborn ASPIRATIONS: None. Literally none. Ever. Fionn doesn’t do “goals.”  FEARS: Sobriety and facing his family. He’s avoided both for a few reasons, for a long, long time.

VI. THE TASTES COLORS: Deep greens and blue skies.  INSTRUMENTS TO PLAY: The fiddle, guitar, harmonica, and pipes, in that order.  GENRES: Fantasy, poetry, and a good tragedy, now and then. SEASON: His own, summer.  DRINKS: Proper Irish whiskey, above all, followed by the Scotch stuff, then bourbon, kirsch, slivovitz, brandy, gin, vodka, tequila, beer, obviously... most alcohols. And tea.  FOOD: Blackberries off the bush, field mushrooms over the fire, or a fresh loaf of soda bread. With proper butter. Unless alcohol counts, as well? Guinness, at least? ANIMALS: Songbirds, horses, and hares. Dogs are iffy. Cats are to be shown full and proper respect and caution.  SETTINGS: Rolling green hills, high foggy heaths, a good jaggedy mountain, burbling creeks...

[yrh72]

つづき ――――――00's―――――― ○Snatch (2000) /Guy Ritchie Brad Pitt ○American Psycho (2000) /Mary Harron Christian Bale ★Memento (2000) /Christopher Nolan Guy Pearce, Joe Pantoliano ○Frida (2002)/Julie Taymor Salma Hayek ○The Butterfly Effect (2004) /Eric Bress, J. Mackye Gruber Ashton Kutcher, Amy Smart ○THIS IS ENGLAND (2006) / Shane Meadows Thomas Turgoose, Joseph Gilgun, Vicky McClure ○FILTH AND WISDOM (2008) /Madonna Eugene Hutz, Vicky McClure ――――――10's―――――― ○Inception (2010) /Christopher Nolan Leonaldo DiCaprio, Marion Cottilard, Joseph Gordon Levitt ○ARGO (2012) /Ben Affleck Ben Affleck ○The Grandmaster (2013) /Wong Kar Wai Zhang Ziyi ○WILD TALES (2014) /Damian Szifron Erica Rivas ○Edge of Tomorrow (2014) /Doug Liman Tom Cruise, Emily Blunt ○Interstellar (2014) /Christopher Nolan Matthew MaConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Mackenzie Foy ○asphalte (2015) /Samuel Benchetrit Jules Benchetrit, Isabelle Huppert ○Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) /George Miller Charlize Theron, Tom Hardy ★Anthropoid (2016) /Sean Ellise Cillian Murphy, Jamie Dornan ★Riphagen: The Untouchable (2016) /Pieter Kuijpers Jeroen van Koningsbrugge ○DETROIT (2017) /Kathryn Bigelow Will Poulter, John Boyega ○Dunkirk (2017) /Christopher Nolan Fionn Whitehead, Aneurin Barnard, Barry Keoghan, Cillian Murphy, Tom Hardy ○BlacKkKlansman (2018) /Spike Lee John David Washington, Adam Driver ☆Paris Is Us (2019) /Elisabeth Vogler Noemie Schmidt ○Parasite (2019) /Bong Joon-Ho Park So-dam ★Miles Davis: Birth of cool (2019) /Stanley Nelson Miles Davis ――――――20's―――――― ○TENET (2020) /Christopher Nolan John David Washington, Robert Pattinson, Elizabeth Debicki https://www.instagram.com/p/COIkOqzsj9iXBK75gb4b6F24OJJNIbc5rYrFkM0/?igshid=vdzoscxu9xq0

[capitae]

What are some of your favorite names for muses?

hi hello this honestly  took me forever, i’m so sorry !! but here’s a list of my fave names to use !! 

FEMALE: acantha, agate, ainsley / aisly,  alayna, alexandria / -driana, alexis, alicia, alyssa, amaryllis, ambrosia, amethyst, anastasia, angelica, anaïs, arielle, artemis, bambi, birdie, bonnie, carolina, caela, céline, clarissa, colby, crimson, dagmar, danaë, daphne, desdemona, dolores, ebony, eden, eleanor, ellen, elise, elora, eloise, ember, estella, esther, faelyn, falon, farrah, faye, felicity, frankie, georgie, genesis, hadley, harper, helene, henley, inge, isolde, ivory, jolie, kyra, larissa, leonie, louise, loey, maddox, mabel, marielle, marisol, maude, meadow, micah, mirabelle, miriam, myrthe, noelle, nyla, odessa, odysseia, opal, ophelia, paisley, phoebe, primrose, raine, ramona, rhiannon, rosalie / - line, roxanne, ruby, sage, sahar, sapphire, scarlett, selene, serenity, shauni, shiloh, silver, skye, sophia, suzanne, teagan, thalita, valarie, valentina, valora, venice, victoria, vivienne, virginia, winnie / winnifred, winona, winter, xenia, yasmina & yvonne

MALE:  aaron, adonis, adriel / - ien, ahmad, alasdair, alden, alec, amadeus, ambrose, amery, amias, ammiel, amory, anderson, andreas, ainsley, anthony, aramis, archie, ares, asher, axel, beckham, bentley, cain, cédric, cillian, charon, ciaran, claude, clemens, colin, cristiano, cyrus, daegan, dakota, dallas, damien, dane, dante, darcy, daxton, daylon, deacon, demitri, dennis, desmond, diego, dominic, dylon, elden, elias, elijah, ellison, espen, ethan, everley, ezra, fabian, farren, finley, fionn, flynn, fox, francisco, gabriel / gabe, giovanni, grayson, hadrian, hannes, harper, hartley, hayes, heath, hudson, isaac, isaiah, ivo, jeremias, jude, jullian, justin, kael, kami, keanan, kendall, khalil, kian, kieran, lando / landon, leander, lenny, leon, lionel, lucien, maddox, matteo, mathieu, matthias,  micah, milo, misha, nathaniel, nicholai / - as, noah, nyle, oliver, orion, orlando, phoebus, quintin, radley, reece, rhys, ruben, serge, shiloh, silas, teddy, uriël, valen, warren, wren, wolfe, xander, yves, yusef & zed 

[honeyskins]

she flowers; he feasts

Hades was nervous… to say at least. 

Never before had he left the Underworld, kingdom and throne behind but this was for a whole different reason; a reason he jumped up quicker at than Death could snatch the dying.

Harry was traveling to Olympus on behalf of his lover’s request.

It was the middle of summer and Hades’ hadn’t seen Persephone since she left, which was only couple months prior. His heart boomed alive when he received the floral scented letter from Hermes, opening it to read in her beautiful hand writing that she requested him to come up out of Hell to see her. Though slightly hesitant at first, he made his mind up rather quickly and informed all of his servants and advisers that he was leaving. He left his closest friend Thanatos, known to him as Fionn, in charge of the Underworld while we has away.

It had been a long journey out of his own realm, the firs strike of sunlight blinding his eyes and making his skin sizzle upon touch. Colors were too bright, the sky’s magnificent blue making him squint and everything… too alive for him. Harry hated it up here but this was his wife’s world. Anything she loved, he vowed to love too.

The moment he landed on Olympus, he could tell he wasn’t the least bit of welcomed. The nymphs screamed and hid from him, all of them scurrying back into their respective elements; some hid in the rivers, most ran to the forest and stayed quivering in the trees. Even the sunshine seemed to flicker, clouds passing on in front of it as if to shy away from god of darkness. Harry didn’t care though, he was only here for one reason.

He arrived in a small meadow, the one his wife had told him to meet her at. It was a beautiful spot, one where the flowers bloomed and the trees were lush but with every step he took, Death’s scent lingered with him. Everything he walked past curled and rotted away from him, nothing wanting anything to do with Death before their rightful time.

The sunshine suddenly perked back up at the sound of her voice, sounding like bell chimes in the wind. Harry’s heart accelerated as the small goddess appeared in his view, her pastel tunic dragging in the shrubbery around her as she ran to him with excited squeals.

“Harry! Harry!” Persephone shrieked, throwing her weight onto him in a hug, the two tumbling harshly onto the ground.

Hades didn’t even care that she had knocked them over, returning her hug with his strength and crushing her body to his as though she would diminish into air at any second. He wasted no time in kissing her, planting his fist into her hair and tilting her face in the direction of his for a long awaited kiss.

Y/N made a little mm! sound of surprise, feeling his smile on hers as she eagerly kissed back, using one hand to hold onto the grass around her. If Harry kissed any harder, he’d kiss her straight through the ground and back into Hell.

Persephone would have it no other way though.

They continued kissing in the open, hearing the nymphs giggle and swoon around them. Harry traveled his hand down her body, bunching the ends of her dress in his fist and yanking it up her legs.

Persephone spread her thighs wider as Hades settled in between them, using his body to shield hers from any unwanted eyes. Y/N moaned as Harry stroked his fingers over her bare hip bones, the tickling sensation driving her mad with arousal. She pulled back from the kiss, only to have Hades plant them down from her jaw to her throat, big opened mouth kisses that left mushy lip sounds and long sighs of pleasure.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Hades sighed, tucking his face into the crook of her neck as he danced his ring clad fingers to her clit, rubbing and teasing her opening with small strokes.

Y/N’s body tensed, her tummy feeling like a million clematis vines twirling up and tickling her insides with utmost pleasure.

“Say it back sweetheart, use your words. Have you missed me?”

“Gods,” She moaned, following the rhythm of his fingers with her hips. “I’ve missed you so damn much. I never — oh god… — I never thought you’d actually come see me.” She finished quickly, arching her back into his chest, her eyes fluttering shut.

“I’d raise Hell to the ground if you wanted.” He confessed, slipping his fingers out and lifting them to his mouth. Hades moaned as he tasted her, breathing heavily as he looked back down at her.

She was a sight, her elbows dirty from writhing in the dirt and her once neat hair a frail mess of leaves and grass. Her cheeks burned the color of roses and her pupils were blown wide, resembling plums. She really was Mother Nature’s truest piece.

Harry kneeled up, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down far enough to let his cock spring free, the cool breeze making the tip redder than his favorite pomegranates. Hades moaned and pumped himself, locking eyes with his wife underneath him.

Persephone smiled bashfully, avoiding his intense gaze. “Are — are we doing this out here? Anyone could see…”

“I can’t wait.” Hades muttered, leaning back down over her again and capturing her mouth in a kiss. “I want Zeus’s entire fucking kingdom to know who’s you are.”

The second he pushed into her was one of a dream. He was rough — just how she liked it — but maintained a passionate intimacy that only two people in love could share. Persephone clenched her fists, feeling him slide up deeper into her with each and every thrust. Harry groaned, feeling her squeeze around him.

He pinned her wrists above her head, bending over her body and leaving small kisses around the crown of her head as he pumped his hips. Her legs eventually curled around his waist, Y/N’s whole body arching into his but she whines — high pitched in the back of her throat — as her clothed chest touches to his clothed one. The thought that they were fucking in the middle of a forest reoccurred in her mind, making her decide to hide her noises away in case of any body unfortunate enough to stumble by.

Hades made one particular hard thrust to where he’s buried to the hilt, making tiny grinding circles into her pubic bone. Y/N’s hands writhed in his grasp, needing anything to hold on to as Harry devoured her underneath him. The curls stick to his sweaty forehead, Persephone’s own hair starting to feel strangled around her neck.

“I can’t hear ya, love. Why’re you being so quiet?” He slurs, euphoria taking over every cell of his body.

“I —.” She grunted but it was struggled as Harry loosened one of his hands and toyed with her mouth, knocking their hips together every second without relent. He thumbed her bottom lip, pushing his index finger into her mouth and groaning as she sucked.

“Such a good girl for me,” He praised, removing his finger and going straight to where her clit ached for touch. He pinched it, feeling her body stutter underneath him.

“I’m going to…” Y/N moaned, her legs quivering around his waist. She groaned, thrashing as the feeling became too much.

Hades let his entire weight drop onto her, kissing her as she released her high.“Look at me, look at me Y/N.”

Persephone’s eyes met his within the second she came, her mouth dropping open as she released the loudest whine yet. Harry milked her through, stroking her face lovingly as she eventually relaxed back.

“Gods, so fucking beautiful.” Harry mumbled, feeling his own high just moments away. Y/N linked her arms around his neck, whispering praises in his ear and soon enough he filled her to the brim, laying stationary on top of her and giving the weak, occasional thrust as he emptied. She moved one hand through his curls and petted his hair down, smiling as he continued to breath heavily into her neck.

“I love you so much,” Harry suddenly spoke. “I’d be proper dead without my little goddess of life.”

“I love you too.” Y/N hushed, kissing his cheek as he lifted his head. Harry took a big breath and lifted up, pulling out watching his come leak out from her legs. He smirked and pressed a deep kiss to her clit, making her flinch and pull away before he scooted her dress down her legs and stood up, helping her up next to him.

“Squeeze,” He murmured. “Don’t want my come out of you. Want me in your bloodstream until you come back home to me.”