#soldier veneration

[biblepreacher]

America's War-Cult

We inhabit a time when life is cheap: abortions, genocides, perpetual wars, weapons of mass destruction. We could list countless ways in which human life has been devalued. While we might send out a medical plane to rescue one life that’s in peril, one plane can instantly incinerate a hundred thousand. Science has great power to heal, but this pails in comparison to its destructive power.…

[brighteuphony]

I love Chiyo- and I kind of headcanon her as a Witch of the Woods (Sands???) archetype- a bitter old woman who has sacrificed too much, experienced and committed more atrocities than anyone can imagine, and who knows the truth about what lies in the hearts of men to live among the villages anymore.

In my AU she's got a pretty dark backstory. Back in time when Villages were just getting established, women weren't allowed to be shinobi in the same capacity as men. There was too much warring and death among the clans to risk women, so they were only ever allowed to serve as spies or medics. (Chiyo started off as a medic).

And like any military/fascist dictatorship, serving the state was more important than anything else- so women who were kunoichi were given missions to steal and return with powerful bloodlines. Even before villages, this was a common fear among clans (which is why so many of them have protective measures and inbreed/arrange matches very carefully).

Chiyo was one such woman, who took a X-rated mission in her youth because she was told it would 'serve her nation'. There was a powerful bloodline whose Kekkei Genkai could harden sand to something akin to Steel- something Suna very desperately wanted.

Chiyo succeeded in her mission, but despite the veneer of 'serving your nation', when she returned, she was considered, in her words, "Just another whore."

Then when her son didn't manifest the bloodline- it was worse, but Chiyo was happy because that meant her son was HERS. (This is when she met Enji, and he saved her son's life at great cost- so Chiyo owes him a blood/life debt.)

Then the war came, and they needed women to fight so now serving the nation meant something different, and Chiyo became a full fledged 'shinobi' and turned her healing towards poison and death- especially when she had to fight the Salamander.

Then she sealed Gaara and that was the atrocity straw that broke the camel's back and she dipped out Suna and retired to an oasis. She's still a healer, but adamantly refuses to serve shinobi.

Once again, thank you so much for these asks and all the support for this AU?

@youngpeacearbiter

[shoechoe]

Maybe this is a bad thought to vocalize but I often wonder about what serious Happy Tree Friends discourse would look like

[artbyblastweave]

What are your thoughts on the meta-narrative of the Halo franchise, and specifically the origins of the Spartan program and how its handled?

It's been years since the closest thing I ever had Halo phase- a phase that never involved me actually owning a Halo game- but If I remember the details right, I remember being absolutely tickled pink by the unbelievable moral luck on display in doing the whole "abduct-and-clone-and-indoctrinate" routine in order to crush separatists Evil-Empire style, and then stumbling bass-ackwards into underdog status against an genocidal theocracy against whom your indoctrinated super soldiers are one of the most potent assets. Makes you look like Hard people making Hard choices instead of space fascists! Real lucky break.

[ronsenburg]

tangentially related to that bajoran earring art I just reblogged.

you ever sometimes make a decision for your story based entirely on aesthetics and then realize the implication of what you’ve done and have to bend over backwards to justify it all? that’s me, making sylvain bajoran four years ago because nose ridges are hot and also earring. then realizing that I have to fit a canon elite square peg into a subjugated species round hole. then waste time wonder if you’re being insensitive and if you have any right to bring that element into your story at all. but then realize you’ve spent four years with this character in this role and you can’t change it now and. yeah.

to the people who started following me after I posted that tactility prologue: i’m working on it.

[thecatspasta]

Btw I dont think Ben Meredith not being his voice actor means anything. I feel Jonahs actual voice would be different from his voice while possessing Elias, because like. He fucking possessed a guy he didnt like completely change up their whole anatomy other than the eyes LMAO and last I checked vocal cords arent eyes. Also someone couldve easily been recasted lol

Like Im seeing a lot of people go 'Well Ben Meredith isnt there it cant be Jonah' and Im just pointing out that

Noone (i can see) is talking about Augustus. Chester and Norris are obviously Jon and Martin BUT WHO IS AUGUSTUS

My bet is Jonah but like. Feel free to add on

[ramp-it-up]

Call Me Captain When I...

Summary: You were Steve's subordinate, but you'd met as friends. And Steve needs your help with something.

Pairing: Early CATWS era Captain Steve Rogers x SHEILD Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. S MUT! Early CATWS Steve, talk of politics, flashbacks, groping while asleep, Not-so Inexpereinced-ish Steve, Dom Steve, Friends to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, Captain and Sir kink, pulling rank, uniform kink, talking in sleep, masturbation, sex toy, voyeurism, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, oral s ex (m receiving), raw p in v, intimations of female receiving oral.

A/N: This was supposed to be the conclusion to Greatest, but this popped in my head. This is set very soon after he first meets Sam and is still getting adjusted to the world. Also, I am not in the military and know nothing really of proper uniform or officer/subordinate address or etiquette. This is pure fantasy. Hope you like it. HBD Steve! 😁

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

-----

You woke up with a start, mouth dry, burning hot and seriously needing to pee. 

You weren’t sick; the cause of your discomfort was the 240 pound super soldier next to you. You looked over to see Steve Rogers’ sleeping face six inches away from yours on the chaise lounge of your sofa, the blue glow from your smart tv’s home screen bathing his face in eerie light. 

You allowed yourself two minutes to admire the man you had come to have a huge problematic crush on in such a short time.

You smiled to think of the first time you saw him in person as he wandered into the Information Technology Division of S.H.I.E.L.D., which you were running. 

------

He wasn’t in uniform, but who he was and his rank was unmistakable. Everyone rose when he entered. You watched him investigate the division by wandering around and looking at soldier’s workstation screens, reading files on desks, which was fine. The venerated Captain Steve Rogers had just about as high a clearance as anyone in the room.

You recognized the look on his face, a mixture of awe and earnestness, and something happened with your heart.

You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to wake up, 70 years out of your own time. You watched his face, noting the anxiety, but mirroring his slight smile when he saw the book stacks at the rear of the room. Something like relief overtook his features. He scanned the room, calculating that the stacks went quite a way back into the facility, then he sized up the size of the troops in the division. 

You commanded 24 soldiers who helped you to oversee a good amount of basic historical, and quite a lot of classified information for SHIELD. You were too busy watching Steve’s face when his eyes found yours, and were caught off guard when he addressed you although you should not have been.

“Looks like you have quite the mission, Lieutenant.”

You snapped to attention and responded. 

“Yes, Sir. Information is key for the success of SHIELD, and we take pride in our work.”

“At ease.” 

Captain Rogers stood before you as you adjusted to parade rest. 

“I hear you do great work, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I need some help.”

“Sir?”

Steve huffed, annoyed at your formality. He looked around to see your entire division staring.

“Can we go into your office?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Once the door was closed, Steve had to address this first point, even though his body thrilled when you called him ‘Sir.’”

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. You and I are friends, aren’t we?”

At the dulcet tone in his voice, you looked him in the eye, although you remained at parade rest. You knew that your troops were looking through your window. Steve noticed that your blinds were open and went to close them, which irritated you. That would only arouse suspicion.

Steve quickly admired your body in your work greens, eyes scanning from your boots up your pants, which were tailored very well out of necessity, to your shirt as he marveled how your buttons stayed closed. He chuckled as he had the same problem himself.

Your eyes were on him as his made their way to your face.

“You said you needed something, Captain?”

He almost groaned at that address. He needed you, spread out on his bed, calling him Captain and begging him to fuck you. But he had to play it cool. 

“I have this problem. And only you can help me with it.”

Steve had no idea how much that sounded like a line, so he barrelled ahead. He needed you, and he knew it from the moment he saw you at Sam’s house party the night before. The fact that you introduced yourself as a librarian endeared you to him, and the kind way that you talked to him all night about historical events of the 20th and 21st century cemented your place in his heart. He even adopted Sam’s nickname for you, Libby the librarian.

“I need a tutor.”

He’d piqued your interest.

“Sir?”

This time his groan was audible. That cute little head tilt was driving him crazy. And your braids up in that neat braid bun. You were wound tight at work.He wanted to have them down, waving along your ass and hypnotizing like they were last night. He wanted to wrap them around his hand as he….

You were going to be the death of him. He cleared his throat.

“I need someone to bring me up to speed. Someone who can help me understand this brave new world we have here.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes just scanned his face. He continued talking to fill the void.

“I mean, I wake up, and everything is different, society, technology, women, hell, even the president…”

“You never dreamed we’d have a black president, did you?”

You were toe to toe with him now, an equal in the field of knowledge, superior to him in history and culture. Steve liked this feeling. He really needed you.

“Honestly. No. I’ve missed the history that would lead me there. That’s why I need you.”

You bristled slightly, straightening your posture again and looking at the wall. Steve caught the vibe.

“This is not a command. I’m coming to you as a new friend that I thought we both gained last night. I want help. I’m asking you. Not as my subordinate, but as a friend. Please, Libby.”

Steve’s earnest plea melted you on the inside. You gave up trying to keep him at arm's length. You knew it was not appropriate what you did last night in your bedroom as you thought of the conversation with him last night. His voice, his eyes, those lips. And you did not overlook that body beneath his button up shirt and khakis. 

But he’d made it clear that you were friends and you would rock with that. Besides, you wanted to help America’s number one soldier see all sides of what he was fighting for. 

He needed to see the truth.

“Alright. One evening a week. Thursdays good for you?”

You walked around your desk and grabbed a post it note and started writing.

Steve was elated and nodded until you looked up at him and he responded verbally.

“Yes.”

He kind of liked you in control. It might be that much more pleasureable to subdue you. He shook his head, surprised at his own thoughts.

“Great.” 

You tore off a note and handed it to him.

“Order these books. Have one read, doesn’t matter which, by this Thursday and meet me at Pete’s Deli at 5:30.”

“Thank you.”

You smiled at him and Steve thought he was going to kneel at your feet.

“Don’t thank me yet until you’ve survived one of my very serious debates.”

“Sounds grueling.”

“You have no idea.”

—---

Over the last four months, you and Steve debated, argued, went through periods of needing space from each other, and late nights texting about tons of topics and cultural events during “the ice years,” as Steve called them. It was almost like a marriage.

You’d graduated from books, to Ted Talks, to movies, to videos on tons of topics and Steve was developing quite the knowledge base. 

You were proud of him, he digested information, reasoned it out, and didn’t become a carbon copy of you, but a well informed, better Steve Rogers. 

And fuck all, that made him even hotter.

Now, you were moving to the popular culture portion of your tutoring, and the night before you’d started the 1980’s/Spike Lee movie portion of your lessons. 

You’d binged She’s Gotta Have It, School Daze, and fell asleep halfway through Do The Right Thing. Now you were trapped between the arm of your couch and a 240 lb heat generator super strong super soldier.

You inched out from under Steve’s thick thigh, which was thrown over your legs, and was about to be able to escape when he turned over, his hand grabbing your boob and his fingers skillfully finding your thickened nub.

“Thank God for the right nipple. Thank God for the left nipple…”

You froze, but then remembered that was a line from the movie, and continued trying to escape without waking Steve up. He couldn’t be held responsible for his subconscious.

“Libby, wanna suck your nipples��please..”

You froze again. Well this was a development. Steve’s subconscious was trying to slide.

“Call me Captain when I suck your nipples. Sir when you suck me off…”

You managed to get up and you stood there, watching Steve, who was snoring now, and had no idea what he’d just said. You shook your head at the fact that he hadn’t learned the power of grey sweat pants.

In a daze, you walked to the bathroom and somehow ended up in the shower before you realized you had a guest. You were trying to process, and it was just a coincidence that your Leelo was in there. You’d be able to slake your hunger and clean up before he awoke.

Steve woke up, confused for a minute, and noticed that it was 4 am. 

He was on your couch with a Giant boner, and someone was in the shower. He stood up, stretched and went to your kitchen for a bottle of water when he heard you moan. 

Wanting to make sure that you were okay, Steve went to your slightly open bathroom door and got an earful.

“Ohhhh. Fuck, Captain, yessssss.”

Steve’s heart began to beat as he took a peek in at you through the clear glass of your shower, back against the wall as you held a sex toy to your pussy. The sight made him forget to breahe. The way you convulsed made his dick jump in his sweats. He rubbed himself to try and calm down, but your voice making those pretty sounds made him grab himself and chase friction against his clothes.

“Yes, Sir… would love to…suck… you…. offfff….fuck, Steve….!”

The sound of his name as you came made him feral and he hit his hand against the door frame. 

You stopped what you were doing as you looked toward the door. Steve used his best stealth tactics to go back to the couch, and that’s where he was when you came out of the bathroom in your robe.

“How much did you hear? Did you see anything?”

The way he was looking at you told you everything.

“I’m sorry, Steve. You were talking in your sleep, because of the movies. I got heated at what you said. Needed to relieve some tension. I understand if you want to stop meeting up. I’ve not been professional. Or a friend.”

“What did I say?”

“Hunh?”

Steve stood up and walked toward you. His voice was so deep. 

“What did I say when I was asleep?”

You gulped, but then you just said it.

“You said that you wanted to… suck my nipples and you said, ‘call me Captain when I suck your nipples. Sir when you suck me off…’”

Steve was closer now. 

“That wasn’t because of the movies.”

His hand was above you on the wall and you were staring up into his impossible blue eyes, which seemed to be shining in the dim light.

“It’s what I want to happen.”

“S-steve?”

Steve’s hand went to your hair, loosening the bun that you’d made for the shower.

“But I figured you only wanted to be friends, y’know?

“We are friends. That’s what you established when you came to my office…”

Steve fisted your braids in his hand and drew your head toward his. 

“I needed your help, true. But I was trying to get close to you without knowing how to make my move. Didn’t think you wanted me too, but what I just saw you doing in that bathroom. What I heard you saying, Libby…”

He stopped, his lips mere centimeters from yours.

“Christ, do you know how that ruined me?”

You whimpered in your throat and closed the distance between you.

If a supersoldier could slam someone against the wall gently, that is what Steve Rogers did to you as his lips and tongue explored yours. Your hands found his hair and tugged as he pulled yours, and your body pressed against his.

Steve pressed soft kisses all along your face. When he finally reached your lips, he teased you, barely touching them, causing you to whimper. He deepened the kiss, his tongue licking at yours, daring it to follow. Your mind was completely blown, and when you separated for air, Steve asked a question.

“So. Can you call me Captain when I suck your nipples? Sir when you suck me off?”

Your eyes met his and you made a silent agreement.

“Oh Yes, Sir.”

“Hmmmmmm.” 

Steve closed his eyes and groaned.

“Good girl. Correct answer.”

Steve kissed you again and this time his hands explored your body too. Your skin was moist and hot from the shower, and he ignited it even more. You writhed against him, brushing your nipples against his chest, causing them to swell and thicken. He groaned into your mouth, and it sent a pool of desire straight to your core. His hard cock pressed into your thigh insistently, and you reached into his sweats to wrap your hand around the rigid length of it.

“Jesus….” 

Steve’s ragged breath huffed into your face as his hand found your breasts and weighed them, rolling each of your nipples between his thumbs. You continued to stroke him, causing his hips to jerk up into your palm, beads of moisture helping to lubricate your hand as you stroked him as best you could, struggling to grip his girth. 

“Is this gonna fit in my mouth? In my pussy?”

Steve growled and kissed you again, his fingers parting your robe and dipping between your thighs. You shivered as first, one impossibly long thick finger slipped inside your slick heat, then two.

“We’ll make it work. You are so wet. So ready. And that mouth. If I can just experience you trying, I’d struggle not to blow my load, Libby. M’ struggling right now with just your hand.” 

“Let’s go to my bed.”

“Give me one now.”

“But-”

“What did I just say Lieutenant? Who is in command?”

Lust rocked your body at Steve pulling rank. You whimpered again.

“You are, Captain.”

“That’s right. Now stay here, and take this like the soldier you are.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Steve rewarded you with a kiss and then trailed more down your neck, moving south. He paused, his breath warming the skin over one of your swollen peaks. You were in agony.

“Captain, please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Please let me feel your lips.”

“As you wish.” 

You writhed as he kissed everywhere except where you wanted him. You tugged on his hair, which did nothing to dissuade him from his mission of driving you crazy. 

“I love that you are so desperate for me, Lib. So damn attractive.”

He hovered over your nipple as he teased it with the hot air from his mouth, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes, Captain!”

Steve added his thumb to the mix of his fingers pumping in and out of you. He kept the pace consistent, no matter how much you tried to move against his fingers. Chuckling, he finally settled his lips around your nipple and hallowed his cheeks as he drew you into his mouth, causing your pussy to shudder to gush over his fingers as you came.

“C-captain!”

“Yes, Doll?” 

“N-need you to fuck me. Please.” 

“Who’s in command?” 

He grazed your nipple with his teeth. 

“You, Captain, I—” 

Steve withdrew his fingers from your cunt.

“Can you call me Sir first?”

You looked into his eyes and suddenly you wanted nothing more. You dropped to your knees in your living room, not caring how the hardwood felt on your knees. Relishing it, even.

Steve pushed your robe off your shoulders and it pooled around you as you watched him take off his t-shirt and pull down his sweats and boxers. You practically drooled at the sight of the thick tan staff in front of your face.

You watched Steve’s thick fingers grab the base of himself and squeeze and you looked up to see him clenching his jaw.

“You’ are trying to make me blow my load on your face with those eyes of yours, Lieutenant. Maybe I should ask you again. Who is in charge here?” 

“You Sir. Let me taste you, please?”

You were topping him with a request, but Steve let it slide as his cock slid past your lips and tongue.

“So fucking hot. Isn’t that what the kids say?”

Steve took your head in his hands as you put your hands behind your back and let him fuck your face. You hummed an acknowledgement as Steve groaned above you. Your pussy was sopping wet at this point.

Steve let go of your head and braced himself against the wall as he warned you through clenched teeth.

“Do you want this? Because… it….fuck… here it comes….”

You prepared yourself and swallowed quite a lot of Steve’s cum, which tasted surprisingly good. You moaned your approval as he gave you his spend.

He grasped himself again and pulled his still hard cock out of your mouth as you grinned up at him. 

“I could do that all day, Doll." He licked his lips as he looked down at you.

"Where is your bedroom again?”

You smiled and took his hand as he helped you to stand, and he followed you to your bedroom, nodding his head toward your California king.

“Get on the bed.”

Steve watched as you obeyed and stroked himself. Then, he kneeled beside you and ran his fingers along your body.

“You don’t know how much I’ve thought about this.”

You rolled under his touch, desire consuming you.

“Please…Steve”

Steve sighed, but secretly thrilled that his dream was coming true. You were begging him for it.

“I thought you knew what this was, who was in charge…”

He rolled your nipple and then pinched it when you said,

"You are, Sir!"

Steve rolled his big body over yours, supporting himself with his arms over your head. His cock nudged your wet slit, and he swore. 

“So damn good, Doll.” 

You moved your hips, trying for friction, or the goal, penetration, desperate now. 

“Please, Steve, don’t make me wait. I need you. I’m yours.”

Steve stilled, and looked into your eyes.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that…that you’re mine?” 

His tongue licked at your bottom lip before he kissed you. 

“I’m not letting you go.” 

His hips started moving, sliding his rigid member through your folds before testing your entrance. His eyes stuttered closed at the resistance there and at the way you slowly yielded open for him. Your eyes rolled back as he stretched you out like never before, fully sliding into you.

You both gasped as he bottomed out, and you gazed at each other, getting lost in the moment. You knew you would never be the same as you met Steve’s thrusts and he didn’t break eye contact as he stroked you to the most mind-numbing orgasm you’d ever had, embarrassingly quickly. 

Steve stroked lazily for a few minutes before he pulled out, turned you over and admired your back, tenderly kissing your shoulder blades.

“You are so beautiful. Everywhere.”

He lined up to your sopping wet pussy and slowly breached you again.

“What is the proper response, Lieutenant?”

“To what, Sir?”

Steve’s head dropped so that his hair brushed your neck and his tongue traced your spine, causing you to arch your back as he slid all of the way home.

“To the statement of fact that you are beautiful. Everywhere.”

His voice was a desperate groan, and so sexy.

“Oh,” you exclaimed, and kept your mouth open, searching for air because you almost forgot how to breathe.

Steve smacked your ass.

“That’s not correct.”

He was going hard now, and his voice was strained. He was close.

“Y-yes, Sirrrrrrr!”

You came again, pussy clutching Captain America’s cock. Steve became the most profane you’d ever heard him.

“Feels so fucking good, Doll. Love this ass, and this tight, wet, pussy. Fuckkkkk!”

Steve roared as you felt his hot ropes of cum spurt inside you, triggering yet another orgasm.

“Oh my goddd!”

You collapsed and Steve moved so that you were still connected, but on your sides.

“We’ve got to finish the movie. Need to find out what happens with Mookie…”

"Yes, Sir."

But Steve was falling asleep, and you looked over your shoulder at the super soldier who looked more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. You kissed his arm, which was wound around you, and which was holding you tight.

—--

The next Thursday, you were in your office when you heard a commotion. You looked out of your window as you saw Captain Rogers striding toward your office, this time in uniform, his hat under his arm. You closed your blinds and went to stand outside the door of your space as he moved nearer to you.

Damn. You should never have told Steve how much him being in uniform affected you.

“Captain Rogers, this is a surprise.”

You kept your eyes straight ahead as you stood at attention and he moved around you.

“I need your help again, Lieutenant. In your office. Now.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“At ease.”

You relaxed as Steve put his hat on your desk, advanced upon you, putting his hands on your waist as he kissed you silly while easily lifting you and placing you on your desk. He backed up to take a look at you as you crossed your legs.

“I’m here to inspect your uniform today, Lieutenant. From this view, it looks splendid.”

“Thank you, Sir.” 

You straightened your torso and pulled on your jacket, but you knew that he was speaking about the fact that you’d worn a skirt today, as he requested.

“I’m interested to see if you followed all instructions.”

Steve’s hands were on your thighs and he pulled them apart and got on his knees before you. He smiled and licked his lips as he saw that you were in fact, not wearing any underwear. He also could smell your arousal and opened his mouth to breathe it in. He was transfixed. You snapped him out of it when you asked him a question.

“You said you needed help, Sir?”

He looked up at your cocky grin.

“Yes, lieutenant. Need you to help me with a new term I came across today in my reading. Cunnilingus?”

“Y-yes, Sir. Of course Sir.”

It was all you could say as Captain Steve Rogers inspected your uniform from underneath your skirt.

------

Read Mood.

Reblog if you liked it!

[blackcrowing]

Important Facts about Samhain from an Irish Celtic Reconstructionist

Pronunciation

SOW-in or SOW-een ~NOT~ Sam-han, Sam-win etc.

Dates

Most reconstructionists celebrate Samhain on Oct 31-Nov 1, however some may choose to celebrate on Gregorian Nov 13-14 as this would match the Julian dates of Oct 31-Nov 1. Some also believe that it was a three day festival spanning Oct 31- Nov 2 on which Nov 2 is specifically devoted to ancestral veneration, but there is no specific evidence of this, only possible extrapolation from more modern practices.

Following the Celtic method of days beginning at sunset, regardless of the specific dates you choose to celebrate on your festivities should begin at sunset and end at sunset.

Importance in the Mythos

Ná Morrighan has a strong connection to this time of year thanks to the story of Cath Dédenach Maige Tuired (The Last Battle of Mag Tuired) in which she is found depicted as the ‘Washing Woman’ (sometimes washing herself in the river and other times washing the bloodied armor of the soldiers that would die that day), on the eve of the battle which is also Samhain. The Dagda approaches her and couples with her (creating the ‘Bed of the Couples’ along the bank of river and granting Dagda her blessing in the battle to come). This encounter seems to over emphasize the liminality of the encounter by taking place during the changing of the year and with the couple each standing with ‘one foot on either bank’ of the river.

She and her sisters (Badb and Macha) then use various forms of magic to rain destruction on their enemies (in the form of fire and blood). After the day is won Morrighan speaks a prophecy that describes what is taken by some to be the end of days and others to be the events which will later lead to the Ulster Cycle.

Beneath the peaceful heavens lies the land. It rests beneath the bowl of the bright sky. The land lies, itself a dish, a cup of honeyed strength, there, for the taking, offering strength to each There it lies, the splendour of the land. The land is like a mead worth the brewing, worth the drinking. It stores for us the gifts of summer even in winter. It protects and armours us, a spear upon a shield Here we can make for ourselves strong places, the fist holding the shield Here we can build safe places, our spear-bristling enclosures. This is where we will turn the earth. This is where we will stay. And here will our children live to the third of three generations Here there will be a forest point of field fences The horn counting of many cows And the encircling of many fields There will be sheltering trees So fodderful of beech mast that the trees themselves will be weary with the weight. In this land will come abundance bringing: Wealth for our children Every boy a warrior, Every watch dog, warrior-fierce The wood of every tree, spear-worthy The fire from every stone a molten spear-stream Every stone a firm foundation Every field full of cows Every cow calf-fertile Our land shall be rich with banks in birdsong Grey deer before Spring And fruitful Autumns The plain shall be thronged from the hills to the shore. Full and fertile. And as time runs its sharp and shadowy journey, this shall be true. This shall be the story of the land and its people We shall have peace beneath the heavens. Forever

(based on the translation by Isolde Carmody)

It is also mentioned in Echtra Cormaic that on this festival every seven years the high king would host a feast, it was at this time new laws could be enacted. (but it seems that individual Tuathas or possibly kings of the individual providence may have done this for their territories at Lughnasadh).

It seems to be a time considered especially susceptible to (or of) great change as it is the time which the Tuatha de Danann win victory over the Formorians and take control of Ireland, the invasion of Ulster takes place at this time in Táin bo Cúailnge, in Aislinge Óengusa Óengus and his bride-to-be are changed from bird to human and eventually he claims kingship of Brú na Bóinne at this time of year.

Celebration Traditions

Samhain is the beginning of the “dark half” of the year and is widely regarded as the Insular Celtic equivalent of the New Year. The “dark half” of the year was a time for story telling, in fact in this half of the year after dark is considered the only acceptable time to tell stories from the mythological and Ulster cycle (the Fenian cycle being assumed to be no older than the 12th century based on linguistic dating). Traditionally anything that had not been harvested or gathered by the time of this festival was to be left, as it now belonged to the Fae (in some areas specifically the Púca).

This was also an important time for warding off ill luck in the coming year. Large bonfires would be built and as the cattle were driven back into the community from the pastures they would be walked between these bonfires as a method of purification (the reverse custom of Bealtaine where the livestock were walked between the fires on their way out to the summer pastures). Assumed ritualistic slaughter of some of the herd would follow (though this perhaps had the more practical purpose of thinning the herd before the winter and creating enough food for the feasting). In some areas the ashes from these fires would be worn, thrown or spread as a further way to ward off evil.

Homes would be ritualistically protected from the Aos S�� (Fae or ‘Spirits’) through methods such as offerings of food (generally leaving some of the feasting outside for them), carving turnips with scary faces to warn them off (we now tend to do this with gourds), and smoke cleansing the home (in Scottish saining) traditionally with juniper, but perhaps rowan or birch might be an acceptable alternative. It is likely these would be part of the components used in Samhain bonfires as well, for the same reason.

Lastly based on later traditions as well as links in the mythology this is a time where divination practices or those with the ‘second sight’ were regarded to be especially potent.

Art Credit @morpheus-ravenna

My Kofi

[callmemaeverick]

Gray

Disclaimer: This is pure indulgence okay. It's my interpretation of the Force, my view of the Jedi after ep 8, and my theory of what happened. P/S: pls read tag for TWs

PPS: If you didn’t know yet, Manny did a futuristic Sci-Fi podcast where he voiced a soldier. Theres quite a bit of injury involved.. if you wanna have some auditory aids for his voice and umm.. other stuff. It’s called Marigold Breach, it’s on Apple Podcast, Spotify, Realm and Youtube. (fork, I sound like an ad. Im not being paid I swear) WC: 1.6k

Never before in the time you were intuned with the Force have you felt so lost. So… unbalanced. When normally, tasks and missions were approached in a calm and collected manner, with a clear and peaceful mind, it had since warped into frantic breathing and a thundering heart, engulfed in compromising emotions.

Every sound grated, every jolt of the ship you were flying felt like a quake and you scrambled to keep the small craft stable. You couldn't afford major turbulence, not with him in such a state.

But you went as fast as you could, desperate to get into lightspeed so that all traces of you and your passenger are gone. As far as you could, though you doubt that you would find a corner of the galaxy that could hide you both. They would find you, you know this to be fact. It would only be a matter of time.

Fear threatened to consume you and for once; you were tempted to let it. After what you have seen, after what you have discovered; the teachings of the Jedi no longer seemed as righteous as you once thought it was. You scoffed, feeling stupid. Not once did you ever question your environment or the teachings of the Masters' as you rose through the ranks, from fledgling to Padawan. You took their word as law. After all, they were the Jedi and you wanted to be just like them.

Now, the thought of the Knights you had so venerated left you angry and confused. Hypocrites; all of them. All they wanted was power. Power over the Republic. Power over the Senate. And they had the audacity to condemn those who wanted to keep power for themselves.

Screw them.

xxxx

The planet you randomly chose was amber in colour, ringed with a manageable asteroid belt.

You were never really good at landing. In your impatience, you would misjudge the thrust and would sometimes send the ship careening too fast. And it was always resulted in a bruised chest; and an even bruised ego after the lecture your Master would unleash upon you.

The thought of your Master sent a lance through your heart; but you pushed it away and fought to calm down as you attempted the landing. You had wanted to be gentle, to make it a smooth landing. You managed; barely. The moment you touched down, you were out of the pilot's seat and into the belly of the ship.

He was exactly where you left him on your cot, stomach down. Had you not been so intuned with him, had you not been able to hear his soft breaths, you could have sworn he was dead. He should have been dead.

The memory of what you witness in secret breached your mind. You remembered the shock you had to bite down, the scream you had to swallow when you witness what happened to him.

How could she do that, to her own Padawan.

Shaking your head of the dark thoughts, you pulled out the emergency kit, grabbing saline and gauze and bacta patches into your arms. On your way to him, you also grabbed an IV drip.

The smell of charred flesh turned your stomach and you swallowed to keep nausea at bay as you kneeled by his side. His tunic was in taters, pieces of the material burned and melted onto his skin. Dirt and mud slicked his back, mixing into the red exposed flesh. You choked down a sob. You whispered his name.

A soft groan reached your ears, then a gasp.

"No, no, don't move." You reached for his shoulder, grasping gently, and you could feel the muscles tightening. "Shh… I'm here. It's just me."

Recognition smoothed his features and your name escaped his lips before his eyes fluttered open. His hand lifted but before it could reach your face; his body spasmed and he cried out.

"Fuck," You moved quickly, gently peeling his ruined tunic from his body. The moment you made contact; he whimpered. His body shook with the agony and your heart broke once more. "I know… I know. I'll be quick, I promise." His back was torn violently, almost shredded, and the worst of the injury was where the wounds connect, overlapped. Burnt muscle was exposed, black and red and oozing blood. Apologies fell from your lips like a prayer, begging for forgiveness for what you are about to do. Then, you flushed a gauze pad with saline and as gently as you could, wiped down the dirt.

You worked as carefully as you could, ignoring his cries and sobs. His body tensed then shook then tensed again every time you touched him. "Almost there. I'm almost done," Your voice cracked, the efforts to hold back tears and nausea proving too much.

As the pile of soiled gauze beside you grew; the blood trickled to a stop and finally, you were able to place the bacta patch on him. "This will help, okay." You told him, but he had long since passed out. You were mostly talking to yourself. "It's going to be over soon."

Once the bacta was on, you sat back and finally let your tears fall. He was unconsciousness, but alive. Thankfully alive. Wiping your face with your sleeves, you stood up and finally initiated ground security protocols.

xxxx

Something was approaching. You looked back and all you see was darkness but you kept running.

Exhaustion weighed down on you. It had been days. Fear slithered in your chest, wrapping around your heart, constricting your lungs. Anger and shame flared inside you, threatening to consume.

A crack of lightning, and a snake lunged at you and your back seared in an unimaginable pain. White hot and blazing. You felt your flesh rip and your vision blacked out. And then, cold. Freezing cold.

You ended and you began.

xxxx

The gasp that tore through your throat hurt like a mudscuffer. You blinked, frozen for a few seconds before feeling came back into your limbs.

The thing about Force dreams was that they don't normally show you the good. Most of the time, it was almost always something dark. But a Jedi is supposed to control their emotions, to release one's self and let go. Selflessness, it was the mark of a true Jedi.

Despite you renouncing the Order, you went through the motions of calming yourself down, or reigning in your emotions.

It’s been a few days… or what felt like a few days. The planet cycle is foreign to you and you’ve essentially lost track of time.

You looked over at the other occupant of the ship and sighed heavily. He was twitching as well, in his sleep, something you were familiar with.

You walked over and gently checked on the bacta. It was one of your last supplies but at least it was working. The wound was healing. Scarred… but healing. There will be mobility issues and you doubt if he would ever get his full range of motion, much less the ability to swing a saber again. Still, you wouldn't put it past him. He is as stubborn as you are.

You remembered growing up with him, the both of you in the Academy.

He was strong. Both of you were, but unlike you, he was the nail that stuck out. Where you obeyed, and did as you were told, he questioned everything. Where you hid your true emotions, he was not afraid to let it show.

And you were glad for it. Had he not done what he had done, questioned and researched, poked and prodded, you wouldn't have seen the true face of the Jedi Order. You wouldn't have known that they were just as power-hungry and backstabbing as the rest of the pirates in the galaxy. They just covered it under the guise of the greater good.

But in the end, he was also the one who paid the price.

They did not know you stole a ship and followed them. They did not know you saw them string him up and strip him of his lightsaber.

You heard his terrified pleas but they fell on deaf ears when it came to his Master. And yours.

He was a child, barely 20 years old. You both were, but they did not see him anymore. The pupil they once treasured. In their eyes, he needed to be eradicated. Just because he wanted to draw power from a source that was forbidden to them.

The buzz of an activated saber drew your attention to the lightwhip of Master Vernestra and your eyes widened in shock. Surely, she wouldn't, you thought.

But you were wrong.

All it took was one strike and his scream would haunt your nights for a long time.

You waited until they left. You had to. And once you were sure they were no longer around, you rushed to his side. It was then you decided you were not coming back.

The sound of your name pulled you from your anger and you turned to see him watching you.

"You're causing a quake," He remarked, and the chattering of loose metal around you ceased. You took a deep breath and reigned it in.

You scooted closer to him and leaned in close. You took stock of him. He was pale but at least he was lucid. His dark brown eyes were clear, which was another good sign.

"So… the favored pupil… finally left the nest, huh? Didn't think… you had it in you."

And he was teasing you.

And it broke you. You drank him in like a person obsessed, trying to make sense of what you were feeling. Anger, fear, confusion, relief. And something else you couldn’t name. But they roiled together inside you making tears pool in your eyes and your lips wobble.

"What… What are we going to do?"

His touch on your face and your eyes closed. He was real. He was alive.

"We'll survive." He told you. "We'll survive."

FIN

[charlesoberonn]

A quick alternate history scenario I made for the r/AlternateHistory subreddit:

In 1796, George Washington reluctantly runs for a third term as president to prevent Jefferson and the Democratic-Republicans from taking hold of government. His third and final term is more rocky than the first two, with the south being especially unhappy with some of his reforms, though they associate them with his vice-president John Adams and Secretary of State Alexander Hamilton. On December 14th, 1799, George Washington dies in office. The nation is in turmoil and mourning. The Democratic-Republicans call for a special election, but vice-president John Adams is declared president instead. On Christmas 1799 a protest march on DC turns violent when federal forces clash with protestors and revolutionary war veterans. Jefferson declares Adams an illegitimate usurper. Adams calls off next year's election. Several state legislatures , especially in the South, declare Jefferson as a provisional emergency leader for the purpose of ousting the Federalist regime. The American Civil War has begun. On January 15, with DC about to be overtaken, an internal vote within the Federalist war cabinet decide to oust Adams and appoint his vice president and war hero Alexander Hamilton as president instead. The tide of the war turns, with the Federalist forces able to protect the north and much of their territory, but it is short lived. The Federalist are forced to abandon DC on April and retreat to New York City as a provisional capital. Hamilton himself refuses to go. He is captured by the Democratic-Republicans along with Adams. Jefferson is appointed president on April 19th. In July, Senator Gouverneur Morris is appointed as temporary leader of the Federalist forces in New York. The war stalls for several months as the Democratic-Republican forces fail to make inroads into the north. Meanwhile Jefferson's administration is poorly received and he is compared poorly to the Reign of Terror in France, especially after the public executions of Adams and Hamilton, and after the French Revolutionary government acknowledges him as the legitimate president. The British back Morris and the Federalists and provide military assistance in return for territorial concessions out west. Despite the Democratic-Republicans trying to paint Morris as a traitor for his British support, the public hates Jefferson more, compounded by a series of military defeats. On December 14th, during a public memorial service for the 1 year anniversary of Washington's death, Jefferson presents himself as the true heir to the venerated general. This creates outrage and leads to a 6 days siege of the White House, at the end of which Jefferson is dragged out and beaten to death by the public and some of his own soldiers. The Democratic-Republican forces subsequently surrender and the capital is captured by Federalist and British forces. Morris is appointed president and his first act is to call in a new Constitutional Convention in order to draft a new constitution, one with the primary aim of preventing another civil war.

[its-not-a-pen]

eunuch rating system: part 2 electric boogaloo! part 1 based on the original post by @welcometothejianghu wherein i continue to rate REAL historical chinese eunuchs! this is a non-exhaustive list and there's honestly no metric to it. i just pick the guys i like.

Han Dynasty (yes, again. the Han was like 400 years long lol) Cao Teng was a pretty normal guy whose biggest claim to fame is his extremely infamous grandson, Cao Cao. Because of this, Cao Teng is the only enunch in chinese history to get a royal title; Emperor Gao of Wei, which was granted posthumerously through Cao Cao’s grandson Cao Rui.

Cao Teng was a good judge of character who promoted a bunch of famous people, one of whom was a guy who had even tried to impeach him previously. After 30 years of service, he retired, got married, and adopted a son. 

i decided to put him on the list because the common perception of the eunuch is a "mutilated" man living a lonely, unfulfilled life. What is often left out is they are highly motivated people who excel at their jobs, exert a lot of influence, and are able to have families and leave a legacy.

the majority of eunuchs came from poor families, and serving at the palace gave them an opportunity to obtain wealth, status and an education they would otherwise never have access to. it does require an unimaginably painful sacrifice, but that shouldn't be the only thing that defines them.

Cao Teng's hard work benefited his entire clan and lifted them out of poverty. But there was a complex interplay between him being a venerable ancestor, and someone marked by the stigma of castration. I imagine there was something bittersweet here for Cao Teng, knowing that he had done so much for his family, but they would rather he didn't exist.

Cao Cao was able to become a prime minister because of the wealth, connections, and education earned by his grandfather. At the same time, he appeared to resent him. The source of his ancestory was a sore spot which was repeatedly brought up by his political enemies to discredit him, something he never commented directly on or attempted to defend.

ming dynasty

MAKE SOME FUCKING NOISE FOR THE COOLEST PERSON IN THE MING DYNASTY!!!! actually scratch that, MAKE SOME FUCKING NOISE FOR THE COOLEST PERSON IN CHINESE HISTORY, PERIOD.

Zheng He was born Ma He to muslims living in Yunan, which was ruled by Mongols at the time. He was captured by the Ming army between the age of 10-14, castrated, and given to the young Yongle Emperor as a servant. Incredibly enough, he was like "no hard feelings mate" and went on to work in EVERY SINGLE JOB. and kick absolute ass in ALL OF THEM. he started out as a soldier on the northern frontier (the toughest place to serve, that was where all the border conflicts were) and fought in several campaigns with the future emperor, distinguishing himself and earning the emperor's trust.

I originally had him drawn in a more stereotypically "heroic" pose, by all accounts he was a tough guy who "walked like a tiger", and while the main purpose of the Ming voyages were diplomatic, he didn't shy away from violence. (he fought PIRATES. like a fucking shonen protagonist). in the end i decided to go with a picture that showcases less celebrated but equally important leadership qualities like curiosity, patience and discipline. I also want to point out that he wasn't the only eunuch on the trip, around half of the commanding officers were also eunuchs. He wasn't an exception to the rule but rather the face of a largely ignored majority; complicated people who were making the most of a difficult job.

Notes: the giraffe he brought back didn't have a name (at least not on record), but the Ming thought it was a qilin (kinda like a chinese unicorn) and i thought that would be an adorable name for a giraffe.

Ming Dynasty

i feel like we've had too much nuance, so lets finish this list off with a properly corrupt and scheming enunch! Wei Zhongxian castrated himself at age 21 to escape his gambling debts, and it unleashed his potiential like Rock Lee removing his leg weights. once inside the palace, he started out as a minor kitchen hand but managed to hustle his way to being the right hand of the emperor, who was an indifferent ruler that prefered woodworking to running a country. for this reason, I decided to make him a ventriloquist dummy.

Wei Zhongxian then proceeded to go on an extravagant and over-compensating ego trip. actually, it was more like a 40-year-long, olympic worthy, ego-long jump. things came to a terrible end when he tried to stage a coup (it failed and he decided not to hang around the capital, and go hang on some rafters instead). by then, decades of corruption had weakened the Ming, the emperor's only son got exploded in horrible incident that also wiped out most of the Ming Dynasty munitions--and what's this? here comes the Qing Dynasty with a steel chair!!!! notes: I decided to make Wei Zhongxian's design a human version of my cat, because he is also an incredibly devious but rather low-wisdom individial.

[thesummerestsolstice]

Elrond hides from the stars, at first. Morgoth's hazy corruption hid the sky, at Amon Ereb, and the Feanorians didn't spend much time outside at night anyway– it was dangerous, even for hardened warriors.

Maedhros and Maglor taught them about the stars of course, they were determined to give E&E education befitting of elvish princes, and no such education could be complete without thorough studies of both astronomy and the elvish star lore from the days of Cuivienen. Still, while they could chart the course of any star across the sky, and tell the tale of any constellation, E&E rarely actually got to see the stars.

They could, on rare nights when the smog wasn't so bad, see Gil-Estel, brightest of them all, faintly shining through the haze. They knew what it was. They didn't know what to think about it. The Feanorians didn't like discussing it, so E&E didn't either.

But then, Elrond and Elros left the Feanorians. Maedhros and Maglor sent them away from just about everyone and everything they'd ever known. They came to Gil-Galad's camp as traumatized children who were treated as objects of curiosity, veneration, even suspicion. Eyes follow them everywhere, and their gaze is never neutral– always approving or disapproving, angry or joyful, awed or fearful.

Gil-Galad's camp, guarded by Maiarin soldiers, is nearly free of Morgoth's corruption. For the first time, E&E see the light of the sun and moon in their full glory. They also see Gil-Estel, burning brightly against the dark sky; no faint light.

Elrond doesn't like it. He feels like Gil-Estel is watching him. When he tries to explain this to Gil-Galad, he's met with sympathy– of course Earendil is watching over him. But Gil-Galad doesn't understand.

Elrond hasn't gotten used to being watched, being evaluated, at Gil-Galad's camp. He'd never felt that way at Amon Ereb– where there had been far fewer elves and his presence had quickly become normal. All those elves watching him now? Viscerally uncomfortable. And the thought of the father he barely remembers being another set of eyes judging him is unbearable. After all, what if Earendil doesn't like what he sees?

[daflowerzine]

STEN🌹SWORD LILY

"Sword lilies are given to Qunari soldiers as merits for actions venerating the Qun…"

[Art by @ParagonRaptors / Blurb written by @collettequach]

🌻STORE: daflowerzine.bigcartel.com

[bloop-bl00p]

Rewriting Hellaverse Heaven

Welcome to Heaven

We all know that Vivienne's worldbuilding skills are terrible, I’ve been pointing out a few issues so it’s not a new concept. I don’t want her to butcher Heaven in the second season, I know she will so I did something myself.

Anyway, I’ll start with the lowest in the hierarchy and gradually start climbing higher, it’s not 100% accurate to the angelic hierarchy we all know but where’s the fun in taking the accurate text without making any changes?

I. Humans:

Different ranks

Humans, while mostly there to rest after their death, can access more important ranks that are essential for Heavens to keep working. It’s based on how they lived on Earth.

Venerable: Venerable is the title given to a deceased person recognized as having lived a virtuous life, they sinned but it wasn't that bad and their good doing overcame their bad deeds. They are very common.

Blessed: To be beatified and recognized as Blessed, you must die because you accomplished a virtuous act based on the 7 Capital Virtues. A Blessed has the opportunity to assist a Saint in their daily routine and help welcome new souls in Heaven, making them visit different places and integrate them into the communities.

Saint: Sainthood requires a heroically virtuous and borderline sinless life, which means they dedicated their entire life to helping others and the world around them. A soul who accessed sainthood has the opportunity to further participate in the maintenance of Heaven. Saint Peter has the keys to open the Gates and knows which souls can have access to it.

The Choirs

Venerables can be part of a Choir since they have the most free time. The main style is currently Gospel and Acapella but Gospel Rock with Christian Symphonic Metal recently added themselves with new generations.

If I had to rewrite “Welcome to Heaven” it would probably be like “Gospel True” from Hercules.

II. Earthly Messengers

In other terms, those angels interact the most with humans whether it’s on Earth, in Heaven, or in Hell.

“Common” Angels

a. Overall:

That’s what they are called in the scripture and honestly, I was too tired to find another name. They are mostly pacifists avoiding confrontation and only carrying action and the words of God for the Greater Good. “Common” Angels take humans' appearance to blend in to spread good morals and values to inspire others.

They have to protect mortals from demonic influence, AKA identify and either repel the demon or slay it in extreme circumstances. They are my replacements for the Cherub in Helluva Boss and the reason IMP and other needs humans disguise.

b. Guardian Angels:

A guardian angel is assigned to protect and guide a particular person. You can't see them but their advice manifests as your internal monologue. It's up to you if you want to listen to it. They are the reason you think twice before willingly making bad decisions.

Principalities

If the “Common” Angels take care of individuals person, Principalities take care of kingdoms and large communities focusing mainly on the chiefs so they rule fairly over their people.

Unfortunately, most Principalities fell with Lucifer and the Fallen currently use their skills to manipulate rulers for the benefit of Hells.

Powers

a. Overall:

Powers heavily partake in Heaven’s army and it’s not rare to see them roaming around with a sword and armor, I mean, it’s their duty to protect the place. Once a year they descend to Hell in order to kill as many sinners as possible.

While it’s still a hazard as demons in general have varieties of powers that can make a fight difficult they do it nonetheless. During the war against Lucifer, their loyalty was such that no Powers fell which not only boosted their ego but also made them loathe those who turned against the Almighty.

Archangel Michael is the leader of the army but since Lucifer obliviously does not want the guy near Pentagram City Misael, his best soldier and lieutenant, takes the lead once in Hell.

b. Context around Exterminations:

The Examination was set up when Samael stopped torturing sinners and established a semblance of society to gain more power. Misael proposed it, not only to stop the Fallen Angel from harvesting strength but to regulate the number of souls in Hell. Which got accepted.

After each Extermination, soldiers have prayer duties where they need a few days to demand forgiveness after each extermination because of the arms procured.

Sinning gives more power to the Seven Deadly Sins, so each Power chooses their victims wisely specifically targeting sinners classified, in their own terms, as Overlords since they massively perpetuate immoral behaviors in others. They know exactly who targets thanks to Adam and Eve.

The first humans were sent to Hell because they doomed humanity except that not only did they keep their human appearance but they got a pardon from the wrath of Samael. Sealed away from the chaos of Hell, they stay in contact with Heaven and inform them of news deemed as important like the rise in power of a sinner.

III. Heavenly Rulers

While they rarely venture among humans, the actions they take can affect life on Earth.

The Archangels

The Archangels have been given the monumental task of managing life in Heaven for humans and the travel between Heaven and Earth/Hell. Each one of them has a different area of expertise translated by the etymology of their name.

They take care of the “Common” Angels and Power's activities making sure everything goes accordingly. They make sure everyone follows the rules, arresting/killing those that don't, and assigning the proper sentence when ordered to by God or the Dominions. They can be sent to Earth to deliver very important messages and are responsible for miracles, you know, people magically getting their visions back or limbs suddenly growing back, yeah, it’s them.

Dominions

Dominions rule over the Angels under them in the hierarchy, they monitor their activities making sure everything is fine. They solve arguments and grant intelligence with their immense wisdom and, like judges, give verdicts and penalties to criminals often helping God himself when faced with dilemmas, they were the ones who proposed the flood and helped God make his 10 Commandments.

The Ophamins

They are eyed wheels inside eyed wheels that contain fire whiting them, don’t try to visualize that.

Whenever Gods ask for a place to be blessed they will take the fire from them and spread it around making mere earthly houses holy. When that happens Hellborns (imps, succubus, or else) cannot approach these areas, unless they wanna die. You see this fire doesn't just repel sin it cleanses it completely and since Hellborn creatures are physical manifestations of sins they die the second they get close to the fire.

The fire is used to make angelic weapons.

IV. God’s Attendance

They can get physically close to the Almighty and help Him by carrying His orders or even replacing Him in some cases.

The Cherubims

Cherubims are armed with a sword whose warmth rivals the sun, it’s directly made from the fire of the Ophamin. One became the Guardian of Eden after Adam and Eve ate the Defended fruits (A pomegranate in my rewrite) Two also stand beside Saint Peter protecting the gates of Heaven.

Their duty is to protect sacred places, If God sends them to Earth it’s to protect a zone, Noah was asked to build the status of two Cherubim on his arch to ensure its protection, The same goes for Solomon who built temples with sculptures of Cherubim inside.

The Sheraphim

The closest to God physically, Seraphim cover their body with one of their three pairs of wings to not blind people and avoid outshining the Heavenly Father. Their love is so grand they burn, it doesn’t hurt them.

They essentially have endless creativity, not unlimited like God but pretty close, they helped him when creating the universe and its rules.

The Seven Holly Virtues

Uriel, Raphael, Michael, Saraquel, Gabriel, and Remiel.

Also called the Council of Seven, these angels are the most powerful of their type and take charge of Heaven when God is unavailable. Each of them represents a Virtue and they are the ones you’ll see when you’re dead.

Each evaluates your entire life before your eyes and decides whether you go to Hell or not, the process lasts a few seconds from your perspective, hence why you feel like your life flashes before your eyes.

V. More informations

1. Angelic weapons:

Their making always involves the fire of the Ophamins, whether it’s a literal flaming sword or used to melt metals. Ophamins are the only ones able to touch this divine fire, they are literally made from it, Angels above them can be hurted by it but they are allowed to have flaming weapons because of their much more important status and their experiences. Those below are given metallic weapons melted with the fire to give a tier of its properties but it’s less powerful, nonetheless, it is still effective against low-tier demons.

→ A flaming sword kills Angels (fallen or not).

→ A simple blade can only kill the offspring of the Goetia (in my rewrite the 72 Goestia are Fallen Angels that had children in Hell), Hellborns, and sinners.

2. What are they made of?:

Angels were created the second God asked for Light, as they are part of it. They have free will and autonomy but choose to serve their Creator as it seems like the most logical thing to do. They are sinless beings living in another plane of existence. Usually, when angels fall off of grace they shapeshift because they don’t want to be associated with Heaven, only taking a more “holly” appearance to trick humans.

This shapeshifting ability is flawed for both species because their natural eye colors cannot change. You know what they said “Eyes are the window of the soul.”

3. Morality and the importance of ethics:

Angels are moral beings and have free wills, they know ultimately what is really good and what is really wrong and that’s how they base their judgment upon humans.

There’s one flaw in this system, however.

They live in an alien-perfect environment. Everyone knows their place and carries their very specific duties, they don’t question rules because why would a perfect God would create imperfect rules? The last time someone tried to drastically change everything they lost a tier of their friends and witnessing what they are doing now reinforces that feeling that their sense of morality is ultimately right.

Ethics is many things and I still struggle to fully grasp what it is despite the little research I made, what I understand is that it helps in understanding people's behavior and giving fair judgments in court. What is morally wrong can be ethically right, there’s a huge difference between robbing a bank because you want to get rich and being a pickpocket because you have children to feed. Angels don't understand that, they don't understand humans and that’s why so many people end up in Hell without really deserving it.

4. These have nothing to do with the rewrite:

The way I suffered to write this is unreal. I have a bad habit of doing research and writing at the same time! Don’t be like me… because the number of time I had ideas and decided to scrap them because the results of my research made more sense makes me want to cry. I didn't but I was close.

You can also count me not saving my progress and accidentally closing Tumblr so I had to rewrite paragraphs. Anyway, the pain is over and I‘m glad the final result.

[cliozaur]

Montreuil-sur-Mer, as I found out, is my favourite setting for Valvert fanfics (five of my top favourite fanfics are set in MsM, even though some of them also feature Toulon as a secondary setting, which I love dearly). But the more I read, the more I wonder why almost every fanfic set in MsM necessarily features docks, while the whole port infrastructure was largely lost and insignificant for the town in the early nineteenth century. Sinister and criminal things can occur not only at the docks.

Just look at this beautiful fortress! It was a garrison town in the nineteenth century, and this detail provides amazing potential for the plot. A town full of officers and soldiers who could cause no fewer problems than sailors or dockyard workers. Their presence meant the existence of an officers' house, a brothel, endless conflicts with the local population, including the police and the mayor's office, venereal diseases, and other issues.

And the fortress is in the shape of a star! Only once did I come across a wonderful use of this fortress wall in a fic when Javert was about to jump from it.

[abmediumaevum]

Today (Nov. 11th) is Martinmas, the feast of St Martin of Tours, an important festival in medieval Europe on the very cusp of winter.

A 4th century Pannonian (present day Hungary) soldier, Martin's conversion to Christianity led him to give up his life in the Roman army. As Bishop of Tours he founded the famous abbey of Marmoutiers. Well known for his charity, here St. Martin is depicted cutting his cloak in half to share with a beggar.

Today he is venerated in the church as the patron saint of the poor, soldiers and conscientious objectors.

(Source: BnF NAF 16251: Images de la vie du Christ et des saints. 13th century (c. 1280-1290); f.89r)