#the name means green hill mountain

[fuckyeahchinesegarden]

qingqiushan青丘山（qingqiu mountain）, qinghai province in china

[a-leg-without-fear]

Reading to Each Other 🪻

day one of tuna tober y'all!! i'm SO fricking excited! :D

Ship: Duke Leopold Mountbatten x f!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: lots of LOTR, tobacco mention, riddles, kissing, cuddles

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. Rain pattered on your apartment's windows, the occasional roll of thunder booming outside. The spiced scent of your pumpkin candle floated through the living room air. Warm light shone from shaded lamps positioned on either end of your green-clothed sofa. A thick, soft blanket was draped over your lap.

You held your worn copy of The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. Images of a dark cave filled with still water and an eerie sense of calm floated from the yellowed pages. Sounds of whispered riddles and shaking hands holding shining jewelry bounced around inside your head. It was nearly impossible to read Tolkien and not get entirely engrossed.

"How's your book?" Leo asked from the other end of the couch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Your head snapped up from where you'd been hunched over your book, eyes wide, as you met Leo's amused gaze. A light laugh filtered through his bright smile.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to alarm you," he said, amusement clearly indicating that he wasn't sorry in the slightest. You shook your head and sighed at his antics.

"Uh huh. Sure," you groused with a growing smile.

Leo was equally curled up on his side of the sofa. Fluffy blanket draped across his lap, glasses fitted over his thin nose, copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen balanced in one of his hands. Hazel eyes trailed over the "grumpy" expression you'd forced over your face.

"Anything interesting standing out so far?" he asked, nodding to the book still clutched in your hands.

"I'm at one of my favorite parts, if that's what you mean," you replied as you burrowed deeper into the couch cushions. Leo tucked his bookmark into his novel, then set the book and his glasses on the end table nearest him.

"Care to elaborate?" he pressed with a cocked eyebrow. You bit your lip as you scanned over the pages again. Hisses and riddles and splashes of ground water leapt from the ink. Hmm. Riddles.

"Well, this part is about Bilbo bargaining, with a creature named Gollum, for his life. They're exchanging riddles as a sort of game," you explained, trying your best to not confuse a man who'd never heard of the Lord of the Rings.

"And what riddles are they?" Leo asked with a growing smile. He crossed his legs under his blanket to give you his undivided attention. You glanced between him and the book in your hands.

"You want to try and solve the riddles, or do you want me to read the whole part?"

"Just the riddles," he specified. You hummed in response.

"Alright, just know that they can get pretty tricky," you said in a singsong manner. Leo stared at you with apt interest as you turned to the correct page in your book. Inked words flew past your eyes, descriptions of swords and hobbits and tobacco and goblins filling your mind, nearly sucking you back into the story, before you found the first riddle. You cleared your throat and read, "What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees, up, up it goes, and yet never grows?"

"Has to be a mountain, isn't it?" Leo guessed almost immediately. He seemed rather confident in his answer, dimples digging into his cheeks with how wide his smile had stretched.

"Yup. Mountain," you answered, already thinking of which riddle to do next. Do you be nice and keep giving him the easier ones, or kick it up a notch? He did invent the elevator, after all.

"Give us a harder one, love," he said. That decides it for you, then.

"It cannot be seen, cannot be felt. Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, ends life, kills laughter."

Leo blew out a long stream of air, "When I said hard, I didn't mean that hard!"

You refrained from making the obvious joke brewing at the back of your throat. An involuntary giggle leaked from your lips. You tried to play it off by resting your chin in your hand, fingers digging into your lips, to keep yourself quiet.

The room was quiet for a few moments as Leo considered the riddle. Raindrops trailed down the window, rivulets chasing each other and creating long tails that winded up the glass. This Sunday, utterly serene in its quality, was one of many you'd gotten to experience with Leo. Something about him just garnered peace in your life.

"Do I get a hint?" he asked with a sigh. You grinned at him from under your fingers.

"If Bilbo doesn't get a hint, neither do you," you said. Leo groaned, leaning back on the sofa and throwing an arm over his face. You couldn't help the laugh that breezed between your fingers.

"You are undeniably cruel," he grumbled under his arm.

"You wanted a harder riddle," you replied with a shrug. Leo grunted in return, making you laugh again. You waited a few more moments, letting him agonize over the riddle, before you decided to take pity, "What is it when your eyes are closed?"

"The hell are you on about? Is this a part two to the riddle?" Leo groused.

The blanket in your lap pooled into a pile on the floor as you crawled across the couch. Your sweatpants-clad legs framed Leo's hips, your hands running up his sides, as you sat in his lap. He begrudgingly lowered his arm and met your eyes.

"That was a clue. What do you see when you close your eyes?" you repeated as you ran your palms up and down his forearms. Leo's expression softened slightly.

"A spot of mercy," he said, smile returning, "I was wrong in labeling you cruel."

"Yeah yeah, Mr.1876. Just answer the damn riddle," you said as you rolled your eyes. Leo's warm palms found their usual place on your hips.

"You can't see it, feel it, hear it, or smell it. And closing my eyes has something to do with it," he listed, tongue darting across his bottom lip. A few more moments filled with pondering passed.

"For god's sake," you breathed as you clapped your hand over his eyes. The two of you had been together for so long that the action had hardly surprised him. You waited for a moment in hope that this obvious clue would help. Being met with only silence, you said, "What do you see right now?"

"Your hand, for one," Leo quipped back. He flinched with a laugh when you pinched him with your free hand.

"Close your frickin' eyes, Leo."

Silence settled over the two of you. Warm, comfortable, charged with amusement at your situation. Only Leo's smile could be seen from under your hand. His thumbs tucked under the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's dark," he finally said. You gave him a few moments to connect the dots. A gasp shook his chest, "Dark! That's the answer!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!" you exclaimed as you dropped your hand from his eyes.

Pure elation crinkled in the corners of his hazel eyes. He hugged you closer to his chest, a laugh shaking where your bodies met. You couldn't help but join in. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to steady yourself.

"Do I get a prize for so effortlessly solving the riddle?" Leo asked with a hint of sarcasm after the two of you had calmed a bit.

"I'm deducting points for the use of a hint," you hummed, feigning consideration at his question.

"And those points, will they affect the prize I know I've earned?"

You answered his question by pressing your lips to his. Both smiling, both clinging to the other with absolute adoration, the occasional giggle buzzing between you.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. It was raining outside, your candle had burnt down to the wick, and you were cradled in Leo's lap as you both read your respective books. Your back to his chest, blanket draped over both of your laps, his cheek rested on the crown of your head. Every now and then you'd read a part of your book aloud, garnering the same in return from Leo.

AHHHHHHHHH this is so frickin cute i might CRY!!! happy tuna tober everyone!!!

taglist: @just-a-nightdreamer @venomqueen2002 @c1eepypas1a @www-interludeshadow-com

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[rainbowolfe]

The One They Love Most

What if I told you Kallamar was the one Shamura loved the most, then what?

That's what I said. It was /hj. I was just spit-balling. Being silly. Because what do you mean the one the moon loves the most isn't the sun? A love forbidden not by their peers or their family, but by nature itself? The ship humans have shipped since before written language?

And then I went to elaborate and I found some things and connected some dots, and it slowly stopped being silly. Now it's a real theory. It's /srs.

I strongly suspect that Aym and Baal weren't a gift for Narinder, but a gift for Kallamar. Making him the one Shamura loves most.

This all started with a one-off thought about how Kallamar was definitely somehow involved in the transaction of Aym and Baal. There are too many intersecting lines and connected dots for him not to be. The sun staffs and Aym's appearance reflecting Kallamar's (messed up ears, cut over an eye) are the big pieces, but even their move-sets point to his involvement.

Shamura uses melee attacks, but their form of melee is more aligned with the gauntlets. Shamura even slashes with four of their claws, mimicking the effect a gauntlet (or a clawed mammal) would have. The curses they use are poison, bombs, and fireballs. Visually, Aym and Baal have the same reddened feet and hands that Shamura has.

Narinder attacks exclusively using curses: fireball and chains, with the implication that he could use melee combat pre-banishment. But again, in that same gauntlet-esque way as Shamura. Kallamar is the only one who engages in melee combat with actual weapons—not just biological defense mechanisms. His curses are exclusively fireballs, but he also has the ability to summon enemies.

Aym and Baal use staffs that double as spears. (Assuming Aym can use his as a spear, since it has a spike on the end). Aym swings his like a sword. Interestingly, he swings it as a mix of a sword and dagger, as the dagger is the only weapon that has a forward thrust move. They use fireball and chain curses. Baal can summon enemies.

They're Narinder's spitting image, yet their designs also hold pieces of Shamura and Kallamar. Isn't that weird? Suspicious?

Then there's little things. Like how, in the Ars Goetia, Aym is also known as Harborym; and Baal is also known as Baalzebub. They could've been named anything, as their characters don't seem to be informed by the Ars Goetia demon they're named after, and yet they share a name with two of Kallamar's goons.

And how Kallamar Punished has Aym and Baal's leitmotif right at the start of it. (it's that 'call and response' melody in the background that starts at ~0:17) Aym and Baal appear on TOWWs track and we go yeah, that makes sense. Cause it does! They're a package deal bonded (or chained, according to some) to each other. So for Aym and Baal to appear on Kallamar's track...

Also the fact that Forneus lives on the coast of Anchordeep. Within destroyed "Walls of Ruin", something that explicitly belongs to the Old Faith.

In Pilgrim, Jalala and Rinor visit both Rakshasa's Restaurant and Forneus' home. At Rakshasa's, Jalala marks where they are on a topographical map. I matched this map to the main map.

This means that Rakshasa's Restaurant overlooks Anchordeep. Forneus is most likely somewhere in the area marked in green. Forneus' is the stop right after Rakshasa's (transitioning from sunset into nighttime) and if you choose to go the other direction you run into Plimbo a second time and miss the chance to meet Forneus at all.

Based on these images, she's settled between Midas' Cave and an unnamed but bare mountain. She lives on a hill that overlooks the ocean. There are some small islands visible here, but they're mostly flat, giving her a clear view of the horizon.

But there's something else. Something huge.

Narinder wouldn't have been The One Who Waits when Aym and Baal were taken.

"Two kits I did have, true love found! And yet one lackadaisy summer day, my beautiful children were taken away… a gift, they said, for the one they loved most, the one that waits… I wept, I keened… But how can one say no to a God?"

Narinder was made TOWW by being bound and exiled by the other Bishops. He was still known as "The Fifth" by everyone when it happened. And it happened either towards the end of the God Purge (because the Fanatic wouldn't include him as one of the five survivors if he'd been sealed by then) or after it. But the result is the same either way.

The Fanatic observes that Yngya must be dead because the leaves stopped changing color. So the Purge was wrapping up early-to-mid Fall, and it has perpetually been Fall since. Which means there is no Summer from that point on.

And regardless, Narinder isn't "the one that waits", he's "the one who waits". That's a red herring. Names in this game's dialogue are highlighted in yellow (and sometimes red). It's not even capitalized when Forneus says it. She could be talking about literally anyone. We all 'wait' for things.

But there's dialogue that narrows down the culprit list and brings another form of waiting to the table. Not at the Crown Fountain, where Death no longer wished to wait. But in Midas' Cave, where Followers have been subjected to a fate worse than death.

"...sparking gold one day found amongst the dregs, lost by a pirate with many legs..." "...pretty shiny prize for all...... they all want... they all want..." "...they all want... nothing remains... blood washes away in the tide..."

Before he mugs Lamb, Midas makes a comment about Anchordeep, something he doesn't do for any other location.

"Take care not to get lost. Things seem to get lost around here all the time... so easy to misplace one's Gold!"

This little comment can only be to connect with what the Giant Follower said. It wasn't anything special or arcane Plimbo lost, it was just. Gold. Coin or bars or both.

Gold Coin: The lust for gold is oft all consuming of one's heart. Gold Bars: Countless souls have been lost in pursuit of this glittering treasure. Gold Nugget: Said to be the tears of an ancient goddess.

But it was special (and ultimately devastating) to the community he lost it in, because "the dregs" is a euphemism for impoverished communities. The ghetto. The undesirables. And that ties in with the figurative meaning of 'bottom dweller' in a way the literal meaning doesn't. :3c

Finally, there's legitimately nothing in Anchordeep. We see the remains of temples, which means there were other Gods residing here at some point. There are the remains of both housing and ships, destroyed machinery, and ruins of what may have been monoliths or similar sacred structures. In Pilgrim, there are no fun "stops" when the girls reach Anchordeep. Anura has Spore Grotto and Smuggler's Sanctuary; Darkwood has everything else. In the journal, Jalala is only inspired to draw/catalog some sea life and coral formations.

The descriptions of our culprit the Giant Follower offers are most likely meant to be taken figuratively. (and even literally, they don't actually work for Midas either.)

"...bottom dweller he was, muck eating prey..."

Outside of a way of classifying sea life, a 'bottom dweller' can refer to both a low-class, low-ranked person in society AND someone of poor character (scum, scammers, etc). It could even be a reference to where Ratoo's lover originates from, whose bed is 'at the bottom of the sea'.

'Prey' in the context of this universe just means someone who doesn't (willfully) engage in cannibalism. The question for Tier 2 of Sustenance is "Food of the predator, or food of the prey?". Follower meat or Grass.

Muck is: 'Something regarded as worthless, sordid [ignoble], or corrupt.' So, a consumer of beings that are considered dirty or inherently corrupt. Like how many IRL faiths disallow the eating of anything that 'crawls on its belly' or feeds off the ground, like shellfish, snakes, or pigs.

What in this world would be considered unfit for consumption?

...

Heretics.

The Fleece of the Heretics: An ignoble garb, worn by only the most unholy heretics. via Chemach; "They are hungry, hungry for miscreant flesh..." The Heart of a Heretic: Unholy hearts [...] cast in vile, impermeable, unrelenting terror.

And that's exactly what the Old Faith's Followers are. Heretics. They may not know that, but they are. Leshy and Shamura are explicitly stated to eat their Followers. Heket presumably does, being inclined to Gluttony as a Follower. I doubt Kallamar is the exception. You are what you eat, after all.

Honestly, I would argue that a God eating their Follower is, on its own, 'muck-eating'. Cannibalism is frowned upon in a cosmic sense. Eating the Follower Meat Meal gives Lamb Diseased Hearts. The lore text for Follower Meat is very accusatory (they gave their soul, you took their flesh). The Cannibalism Ritual produces guaranteed sin.

And depending on the rules of Australian grammar (which I cannot read about... for free, anyways), the intention might even be "muck" (scumbag person) that eats "prey" (helpless creatures).

"...he waits, waits and then takes... even muck eaters have teeth..."

He waits [stays; or serves] and then takes [captures; controls, or swindles]. He waits... not for something inevitable, but for the right moment. He's an opportunist.

"Have teeth" is an idiom that means 'To have enough power or support of authority to compel obedience or punish offenders, as of law.

Even shameful, 'unclean' people have power.

He is he of blight. While a blight can mean sickness or plant disease, it can also mean someone/something that ruins, destroys, or otherwise devalues things. A scourge. A bane, if you will. 👀

Kallamar has always had a reputation as a coward. At minimum, for as along as the Red Crown has been apart of this Godly ecosystem. Your siblings wouldn't really be considered your "peers", so it would've been other Gods (while they still existed) who knew Kallamar as such. He's also known as a coward by Followers. So it seems very likely that's how Kallamar would be referred to.

The one that waits [[and then takes]].

(congrats you've reached the halfway point)

Throughout the entire game, Shamura only ever talks about two of their siblings: Kallamar and Narinder. Narinder is frequently on their mind because, as Jojo puts it, they won't allow themselves to forget what happened and that there was a fifth. And yet they are, for some reason, taking a stroll through Anchordeep reminiscing about Kallamar and his fear of the Red Crown.

We don't get a fourth interaction with Kallamar, because he's too terrified to leave his temple. We instead get an extra interaction with Shamura, triggered by Baalzebub's (and by extension, Haborym's) death. Even if they didn't show up specifically to intimidate Lamb... there's nothing in Anchordeep besides Kallamar. So for what reason are they in Anchordeep if not for him?

Whatever they're remembering is definitely a conversation. And as seen with their "Feeling Confused" thoughts, they speak as if they're experiencing the past. This:

"Kallamar was always frightened of the Red Crown." "Yes, fear made a coward of him."

Is definitely them responding to someone.

But my point is, is that Kallamar holds a similar level of importance in Shamura's mind as Narinder. A level Heket and Leshy don't reach.

"Ooh, kits... I remember, I remember... two kits in my claws... a gift..." "I did not want him to be... lonely..."

Regardless of if I've convinced you that Aym and Baal were a gift for Kallamar, this line needs to be rethought because of the timing talked about in the first half. They were taken as a gift before the Purge, and thus before Narinder's banishment. So... why would Shamura be concerned that either of them would be lonely?

There's also Narinder's perception of them. "Intended as Keepers". But why would he need Keepers? He's chained up in another realm. Even if he did manage to break free... what are two, inexperienced children going to do about it? Not to mention, they're loyal to him.

In fact, I would argue that Narinder saying that he can't be blamed for his 'influence' makes it sound like Baal and Aym chose to go to him of their own volition. They were intended to become someone's Keepers, but they were untrained and undisciplined, and thus couldn't/didn't want to perform the job.

Aym and Baal are more than just companions to combat isolation and loneliness. More than just cats that look like Narinder to a weird degree. They're hearts. Each one half of a whole that rightfully belongs to Forneus.

There's probably something to be said about Shamura being unwilling/unable to give their own heart, and opting to take someone else's, but that's a theory for another time.

Kallamar's Top 5 List characterizes him as someone desperate to find "True Love". It would make sense for Shamura to try to give him that in the form of Aym and Baal, since they fulfill that role for Forneus.

And there's a handful of reasons why Kallamar would be at risk of loneliness in a way the others aren't.

-its implied that Kallamar made a habit of hiding in his temple even before the Lamb or Narinder's banishment, as it was a place of safety in his mind. A place untouchable by whatever conflicts he didn't want to face—of which there seem to have been a lot of. Which would explain why his cowardice is so well-known and talked about. It's something that's so ingrained into his instincts, he goes to hide in the ruins of a temple that clearly cannot protect him.

-Heket clearly favors Leshy the most out of all of them. So that pairs them off, leaving Kallamar and Shamura (or Kallamar and Narinder). But Shamura and Narinder are, at some point, busy experimenting with resurrection. Leaving Kallamar alone. With the implication that Shamura allowed themselves to die so that Narinder could try to resurrect them, Shamura would gift Kallamar the boys with the assumption that it would be a while before they came back (if they managed to come back at all lol).

-While Kallamar is in Purgatory reliving his final moments, it's interesting that he's experiencing a memory where he's been trapped somewhere. If he's being held captive, then that would give a need for both companions and Keepers.

And that's why Kallamar is the one Shamura loves most.

Also the way Kallamar's inclined to depend on Shamura even when they don't really have the ability to protect him anymore. His first concern is what they're going to tell Shamura, and it's only Heket's intervention that stops him from involving them sooner. When Shamura's in the room he talks over Heket, when previously he conceded to her. And when he's revived, the first name out his mouth is Shamura's.

Perhaps there's something Kallamar feels guilty about regarding Shamura, in the same way Shamura has something they feel guilty about regarding Narinder—hence why he's always on their mind.

Final Tangent:

Long, long ago... one of my very first theories... was about the base weapons. Assigning them to the Bishops since, you know, there's five of them. And I ascribed the Crusader's Blade to Narinder, since that's the one Lamb starts with. A "Stalwart companion to the wandering warrior."

Forneus says about Baal and Aym, "O, the soul of a wanderer one, and a warrior the other!" Baal and Aym represent two halves of a whole heart. Combine those two halves, and the whole is a wandering warrior. The idea was that Narinder's influence on them was split between his clashing ideals. One took on his aggressive traits, the other the gentler traits.

But Pestilence makes it out that those base weapons are associated with Kallamar. So.

[artsandculture]

The Hunters in the Snow (1565) 🎨 Pieter Bruegel the Elder 🏛️ Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien 📍 Vienna, Austria

In the late 16th century, the Antwerp banker Niclaes Jongelinck owned one of the most important painting collections in the Netherlands. He commissioned Bruegel to create a series of six seasonal paintings, the last of which is shown here. The series also included: Gloomy Day (Early Spring; KHM, GG 1837), Spring (now lost); Hay-Harvest (Early Summer; Nelahozeves Castle, Czech Republic, Lobkowitz Collection); The Harvesters (Late Summer; New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art); Return of the Herd (Autumn; KHM, GG 1018). For the composition of this series, Bruegel, who today is regarded as the most progressive landscape painter of the 16th century, followed an older tradition that divided the year, beginning on 1 March, into six unequally long seasons. What all the compositions have in common is the so-called balcony motif, i.e., the depiction of a hill in the foreground from which an overall view of the landscape unfolds. On top of the hill a group of hunters accompanied by a pack of dogs is seen, making their way back to the village below. Their catch is poor: a single fox dangling from the spear the hunter on the left carries on his shoulder. To the hunter’s left, Bruegel added a motif that had been used forquire some time in book illumination for depicting the month of December: the preparations for singeing a pig over an open fire outside a building. The damaged sign hanging above them reveals the name of the inn: “dit is inden Hert”, meaning “To the Deer” – a well-aimed passing shot. Entertaining details, such as the people ice-skating on the frozen lakes, have contributed to the painting’s enormous popularity. However, it does not owe its significance in art history to its details but rather to the overall impression conveyed by the coloration and composition. With virtuosity and consistency Bruegel evokes the impression of cold: white, blue-green and brown are the dominant colours. The precise silhouette of the trees, the frozen mill-wheel at the lower right and the icy surface of the snow revealed by the hunters’ footprints blend together to convey the fundamental characteristics of winter. The scene is an invented, universally formulated landscape: the combination of a chain of Alpine mountains with Flemish architecture renders pointless any search for reality.

[madamecaos]

Sun and Rain

Where Ghost x Witch fem!Reader are Soulmates

Tag: Angst, lil gore, trigger S. Assault

He should’ve known this wouldn’t be a normal mission. He should’ve had a clue, recognizing that everything was all wrong from the beginning.

The intel, the secrecy of whom he was hunting had been cloaked, even from his superiors. But alas, a good soldier only follows instructions.

If only his precarious situation wasn’t annoying. Ghost had experienced the world through the missions he’d been sent to. Deserts frying him with scorching heat or skies blinding with white blizzards. And yet, the humid mild heat of the jungle was the most uncomfortable.

Mosquitos were the bane of his existence, since even batting them away, they would still somehow bite him through the mask. The sweat sticking to the back of his neck made him itch. And Soap noticed.

“You a little twitchy there, Lt,” said Soap, eyeing him, gun pointed to the front as he trekked through the shade of tall trees. A sea of trunks surrounded them, too many possibilities of an enemy hiding.

“Mosquitos,” he said, nothing more to explain.

“Even through the mask?” Soup asked, genuinely surprised like an inquisitive kid.

“The things are monsters.”

From the back they heard a slap, and all turned around in sharp alarm, pointing. Only, to reveal Captain John Price grumbling about the ‘bloody beasts.”

“Keep walking straight, less than a meter away.” Laswell instructed through the comms.

“Roger.” Price answered.

Ghost’s neck prickled in anticipation. He wondered how dangerous was the enemy, since they have them walking in the unamed jungle, with unspecified instructions, step by step directions. Odd.

But the trust in his captain was enough to put him in this position. He promised the intel was good. To trust him, or whatever that means.

And the instructions had come loud and clear. Kill the rising druglord in said coordinates, somewhere in Columbia. But no name was given, no information, no concrete intel. The information found of their own investigation and scouting lead to believe the new druglord was pairing with the top dog, Ignacio “El Brujo”. The new addition in the Colombia cartels had the government nervous, but they had no clue why.

Soap’s money is on technology. Gaz bet it was terrorism, pushing drugs not being enough to move Special Forces into Colombia. Serbia was more his pace.

The pink and orange sky glared upon them as they reached a peak in a jagged hill, giving away downhill to a beautiful mansion. Capital was spent on the vast of its structure. It was a wonder how NASA hadn’t just only seen them from the sky. It was huge.

Even with the sun shining, droplets peppered from the sky, some of it gray clouds.

“Would you look at that,” Soap muttered, the expanse of the rest of the property, a blanket of green and plantain crops in the middle of the sea of mountains. They were literally nowhere he recognized, the tropical sight taking his breath away, pink and orange glowing.

“There’s a saying about this,” Gaz pointed to the still sunny raining sky. “Here in Columbia I think, that a witch is getting married.”

“What?”

“That when its raining and still sunny, a witch is getting married.”

Laswell interrupted. “Approach with caution, we need the target in our hands. Keep conversation tight, over.”

Price answered on their behalf.

And to think, this wouldn’t even be more weird. The mansion was empty.

Only when they broke the entrance, there realized it wasn’t necessary to break in. The door was open, no guards at the entrance.

Until they got to the living room and and saw a sea of dead bodies… dead parts of dead people. The body guards or… and their families. He even had to blink away from the image and its carnage. Some blood on the curtains.

“What the fuck,” Soap spoke out of turn, Price giving him a reproach look, as they had already shut them up.

But as he stepped to the sight, getting in front of the two muscle giants, he realized he would’ve said the same. A whole dinner room that had seemed like a regular family gathering, only bloody with someone’s arm without its owner.

“Ok then,” Price braces himself, steps through to limbs and corpses, acting as normal as possible. Their steps left bloody footsteps on the carpet, a red river in one direction.

They scouted every room, even found one in the bathroom, head banged to death in the mirror, as if he had gone insane.

If he were asked, he would’ve confirmed he felt nauseous. Not himself. Yet, he said nothing.

Room after empty room received the Special Task Force, no other soul in sight. Until they got to the master bedroom.

He couldn’t help but notice the bloody cuffs at the corner of each four post of the bed. Dread curled in his stomach, sweat going through his uniform.

“You ok there, Lt?” Soap asked at his paused posture, not registering.

“Intel finds there might be a secret basement.” Laswell says as if they could do something with that. It was secret.

“Any clue whatsoever?”

“Do you hear that,” Gaz said from the left, heading for the bathroom, gun raised. He pushed the door open, and in the middle, a middle aged man had a gun pointed upwards, pressed to his chin.

“Sir?” Price said, placating. “Put the gun down. We only just want to talk.

“I did it.” He sobs, index finger shaking at the trigger. “I did it.”

He repeats, eyes hazed, over and over again.

“I think he’s high.” Gaz commented, standing the closest.

“Grab him”, Price instructed, and Gaz did so with a side kick to the gun. Slipping the weapon away from the suspect.

“On the floor!” As Gaz brought the suspect for questioning into the bedroom, Ghost offers to check the perimeter for said basement.

Soap invites himself to the exploration.

It was more obvious than not, the only door heading a uncared for pair of stairs, leading into darkness.

“Lights on.” Ghost instructs Johnny from the front. Ghost with a head light, and Soap pointing with a flash light. Gun in the other hand

But nothing was amiss, except Ghost was cold as ice. As if he couldn’t help but shake, jaw trembling inside his mask. He fought through the shakes as they headed down and down, until they reached a normal basement. Walls recently painted white, except the floor. The modern decor was severed by the seven star pointed pentagram spray painted red smack in the middle of the center.

“Look down.” Ghost says.

“What the fuck, “ Soap repeats.

“Soap.” Price commands.

“Found the basement. Two doors to the left. A pentagram drawn in the middle of the room.” Ghost informs, heading closer to the infinite back. It seemed to go on and on, the space beneath the whole mansion. Empty like a parking lot.

“Roger that, see what else is there.” Price says nothing else.

As they get closer to the back, the see a set of doors, turning left to the kitchen.

His ears started ringing enough to be annoying, but not enough to hinder him. His heart started to pound, set on heading a certain direction.

It was sudden and electric, like a fast acting energy drink. The need to be somewhere else.

And he followed the trail. Back to the wall, driven, not knowing where’s he’s heading.

Soap followed silently, not understanding Ghost shift in direction.

Another left, another stairs to a lower floor.

“Damn,” Soap the commented. “Stairs to hell.”

At a sound from bellow, they raise their guns higher.

They were at a disadvantage, the lower floor being darker and not knowing what’s expecting them, Ghost throws a flash grenade, being answered with multiple screams.

Girl screams, and some might be children.

“Price, we got a situation.”

“Possible civilians down in another floor. Might be hostages.” Ghost adds.

His rapid heartbeat hadn’t decreased.

A curious pair of eyes, greeted them, scrunching at the flashlights.

“Special Task Force, put your hands up.” Soap intervenes, being the people person.

Everyone sitting on the floor did so, except one at the back. A girl, head lolled back on the lap of a woman, worrying a cold towel to her forehead.

The girl was still, clothes bloody, beaten to a pulp. Barefoot, naked west down.

Ghost thought her dead, until she moved. With trouble, she turned her neck, carrying a heavy head, curious at the sudden silent.

Lazily looked side ways, eyes barely open.

Eyes made contact briefly before the others closed with exhaustion.

But it was enough for Simon to see something drove him here, and that something was you.

Electricity zapped him from the spine, bringing him to his knees. And in a second, he lost consciousness with Soap’s worry echoing in his ears.

A/n: Sorry for any mistakes, here’s a balloon 🎈.

[goodbye-exclusion]

xx || masterlist || 02 ->

⋆༺𓆩 01 LAND! 𓆪༻⋆

"Hey, Nami! What's that?" Luffy calls out, leaning over the taffrail.

Nami hums, not bothering to look up from the newspaper. "Hm? What's what?"

"There's land! A biiig island, the size of 10 million Usopp noses. No… 100 million!" 

"Hey, what type of measurement is that?" Usopp yells, and Nami is inclined to agree, not having an inkling of how big the island really is.

"It's probably Roguetown," she says dismissively. "Let me take a look anyway." Nami sets her newspaper down before stretching. She blinks a few times to adjust to the bright sun as she steps out from under the parasol. 

As she approaches Luffy, she furrows her eyebrows. The island was, as a matter of fact, not Roguetown.

"I don't know," she murmurs. 

After retrieving her map and compass, Nami's confusion only grows. It didn't exist on the maps, despite it being a massive continent with its own smaller islands forming an archipelago just south of it. 

"We'll stop here," she announces.

[■□□□□□□□□□] 

After nearly 4 weeks of travelling, you arrive back at Weh'le. You had ventured far Southeast to collect Vlonqo flowers and Raikkon berries, the main components of the ink mixture you use for tattoos. You refuse to settle for anything less than the perfect ingredients, and that means fresh and ripe berries, so you had already made the ink as you collected them.

Which lets you set off again after a quick half hour of settling everything in place at home, aside from the satchel situated at your hip. You'll be back soon anyway. 

After all, with the Spirit Blossom festival coming up in less than a week, you won't have much time to venture off. Of course, you'll have your booth to set up, but you're always glad to help decorate the rest of Weh'le Market for the celebration. 

So before you spend the better part of your days with those preparations, you set off to visit two of your dear friends in the forest.

Typically, you're happy to take your trip slowly. Admire the beauty of the magic around you and appreciate the scenery that nature has spent years and years detailing.

This time, though, you're off to see Lillia and Ivern after a month, and you're impatient.

Such a time, however, is short relative to their ages. Lillia is nearly 200 years old (197 this year), and even that is considered rather youthful in comparison to the old forests. And Ivern, the Green Father, is far older, to the point where nearly any amount of time is no longer significant to him. Living for thousands and thousands of years would do that. But all that time never made him jaded. He cared for you as you grew up, and he cares for you now, just as he cares for every other living being.

You can't stop the smile from spreading across your face as you think about them. Your run turns into a strong sprint, eager to see them again. 

Past the stony base of the mountain that Weh'le is tucked against, past the river separating the rocky ground from the rich soil, past the hills and through the trees, is the grand forest of Navori. You're a bit out of breath, and the sun is nearing its peak, but you've made it.

Magic flows around you. Sitting on a smooth rock, you close your eyes and bask in the floating magic mixed with the gentle sun dripping through the trees' canopies. 

The quiet sound of trotting on soft soil announces Lillia's arrival. You turn your attention towards her with a smile. 

And although she's only peeking her head out from behind a tree, you still wave to her. "I'm back!" you greet.

And Lillia thinks you look breathtaking, smiling softly with patches of sunlight draping over you. Her heart floats, thinking about how that smile is just for her. 

"I missed you so much, [Name]. Ah, of course w-we all did. The whole, um, the whole forest did!" she adds on quickly.

"I missed you, too," you assure. "Come, sit with me!" You pat next to you on the rock, even though she can't really sit directly with you.

At last, Lillia rounds the tree and makes her way towards you, staff in hand, semi-confident with the knowledge that you might have missed her a fraction of how much she missed you. 

She's a fae. Where her legs would usually be is instead the body of a deer. Her fur is a soft tan, growing reddish-brown near her hooves. Instead of human ears, she has somewhat droopy, long ears. Reaching just below them, around the small of her back, is purple tinted magenta hair with an almost glowing blue hue at the tips. Two smaller sections are parted away into pigtails, held together with leafy bands. 

"You look lovely as always," you say, and her face reddens. 

The purples and blues in her eyes shine at the comment. "Oh m-my, thank you so much!" She giggles nervously, lying down in the grass in front of you, in fear that her legs may give out from excitement. 

Without a second thought, you move from your seat on the rock down to the grass next to her. 

"Oh, [Name], your clothes will get dirty!" she frets. You chuckle, and she sighs. "I k-know you don't mind at all, but, well, I've heard many humans do. If they were to think poorly of you for it…"

"It's alright, Lillia. Most people are lovely people, I'm not sure anyone would care all that much."

And she can't exactly argue. After all, you're the only human she's ever spoken to. But she's still seen many, many humans come and go in the decades she's spent observing them. If only you knew, she thinks, of all the horrible things humans will do without a care, then you may not think so. In fact, you might decide to come live in the forest with her! 

She sighs dreamily at the thought.

"Something on your mind?" you ask.

Lillia shakes her head, but she can't help but smile at the thought of you and her living together. "Not really. So, tell me about your adventures! What kind of things did you see? What kind of humans did you meet?"

You hum thoughtfully. You open your satchel and pull out your journal. It's a relatively new one, but it's already filled to the brim with stories and notes and drawings. Lillia happily adjusts herself next to you to look at everything you've documented in the past few weeks. 

You show her several pages dedicated to your experience with an older lady, who had helped you for a day and housed you for a night. She taught you how to make white tea from Xaolan flowers and a delicious toast spread from Kiwa berries. Your tea was nowhere as delicious as hers, but she simply smiled and told you that it was just fine.

I'd be far more impressed had it turned out poorly, she had said. That nature must have seen the idiocy of too many hard headed humans and decided to make it easier on us.

And a few pages held detailed sketches of your experience there. A page for her small cottage. Half of a page for the small plate of toast with Kiwa spread and cup of tea, the other half containing drawings of the berries, flowers, and trees themselves. Then, a full page of her.

An old lady with a bright smile, one she must have worn for many of her days given the crinkles lining her eyes. Her name was Ahn, and when you asked for her age, she chuckled and said to take a guess. 

"No older than 30, I would imagine," you said, and she agreed.

"28, actually."

And with that, you decided that it didn't really matter.

You flip the page.

Immediately smiling, you begin to tell Lillia about the tall man you drew sitting in a field. Four patches of flowers were almost perfectly positioned behind, in front, and to the sides of him.

Lillia nearly saw red at how brightly you spoke of him. She glared. Glared at the drawing of the cute little matching flower crowns you made for the two of you. At the fact that you were so enthralled with talking about him that you didn't notice how clearly upset she was. Can't you see how unsettled it makes her? Don't you care?

Look at that man. He had a mask, far from organic, far from nature. His body looked stiff, like the limbs of a puppet. Don't you like nature? Don't you like her? 

"He was so kind," you say. "For a while on my journey, I felt followed, like a creepy force always behind me. We happened to meet on my way back, and he travelled with me for a few days."

She could make you feel safe, too. Does she seem too weak?

In the midst of her silent rage and your distracted rambling, a light voice interrupts both of your thoughts.

"My children!"

The two of you snap out of your own minds. 

"Ivern!" you greet.

His long, thin legs fold beneath him as he takes a place next to the two of you in the grass. 

"I trust you've been safe in your ventures," he says, and you nod eagerly. 

"I was! How have you been?"

"I've kept well. I know you must be in a hurry with the Spirit Blossom Festival preparations. Go, child, we can gossip later!" 

The two of you share a giggle before you depart, saying your farewells to the two.

When you're out of range, Ivern turns to Lillia, frowning.

"My child, do you wish to talk about it?"

Lillia stomps one of her hooves and scowls. "You sent them away! You're going to make them leave me for good!" she accuses. 

The elder simply shakes his head and sighs. "Perhaps one day you'll grow up."

Shivers run down Lillia's spine. She's not a child anymore. You're the only one who takes her seriously. You're the only one who truly cares. 

[■■■■■■■□□] 

The sun that once burned at Nami's eyes and skin seems like a dream now. 

Instead, a thick fog wraps around the Going Merry. It feels heavy, spreading across the ship's deck. Nami's compass is circling aimlessly, spinning almost as much as her head is.

Usopp and Luffy's babbling doesn't help, either.

Nami rubs her temples as Sanji tries to get the two to quiet down, but ends up yelling, too, out of frustration.

Zoro sighs, regrettably getting up from his nap. "Quit freakn' out already, there's land right behind us," he calls. 

"Behind us? When did we get so turned around… And just how far have we gone?" Nami murmurs to herself.

But she finds that, sure enough, there's a glimpse of a port not too far away. The docks poke through, as if inviting them. It's the only direction the fog lightens up—or rather, the fog feels like it's purposefully blocking out everything else, leading them where it wants them to go. 

Luffy is thrilled, bouncing and pointing at the newfound sight of land. "We're not lost!" he cheers. 

But Nami can't shake this bad feeling that twists her gut.

[pjocharacterdesign]

Hello, I was wondering if I could ask more about the roman demigod with the label [Lifeguard] from your roman cohort post on the blog as well as the demigod on the fourth cohort page with the Camp Jupiter Confidential demigods on it, first in the second row with the brown shoulder length hair, green eyes and glasses? I love your art and your art style, its so beautiful. :) Sorry, if the ask to long.

Of course! [Post anon is referencing here]

These two are from my project to flesh out Camp Jupiter for my askblog, @deadangelos!

The lifeguard one is in 3rd cohort, and is referenced in Camp Jupiter Classified and I fleshed him out a bit - mainly giving him a design, name, and divine ancestor (Venilia - a nymph/goddess of winds and sea, which felt fitting for a lifeguard). His name comes from an Italian form of "Alexander," and is the name of the painter of The Birth Of Venus (There's actually a mountain on Venus named for Venilia, so that's one of the tie-ins there), and the name Morgan means "sea circle" essentially, so again lots of water themes for him for the lifeguard stuff. Cause giving demigod ocs referential names is fun.

Jenifer is a double-legacy in 4th cohort. Palatua is a goddess guardian of Palatine Hill, and Vacuna was a goddess prayed to in favor of absent or missing friends and family. She joined the legion basically right at the end or right after the Titan War. He looks all depressed cause I thought it'd be interesting if, because of the exact combo of his double-legacy, he feels a lot of responsibility for the safety and well-being of Camp Jupiter and the Romans who live there, and they just got out of the Titan War and are still reeling from that and the losses/destruction from that- and because he was either new during the end of the war or joined just after, he couldn't really do much to help. She's just got a lot on her mind.

Design-wise they're both mostly born out of me fiddling, as are most of the bg romans designs I make. I just kind of keep working at them until I like them and then flesh out a character around that - Jenifer was more that, and Sandro was more me trying to work out a design that I was more or less satisfied with that fit for the character briefly referenced in CJC and figuring out what he might be like in more than one sentence. Sometimes I'll have a particular design or concept I wanna mess with and I'll work around that, but usually it's just me messing around until I get something I like.

I have a lot of fun designing background riordanverse characters and fleshing them out like this, so always feel free to ask about them! I tend to talk a bit more about those concepts over on my main pjo sideblog @aroaceleovaldez, but I'll happily chat about the design aspects here as well!

[fatehbaz]

At the intersection of Ohio, Michigan and Indiana, the corn monoculture melts away to reveal green rolling hills and deep gorges. The lush forest is pockmarked by steep-banked ponds, carved out by retreating glaciers 10,000 years ago. Standing waist-deep in a forest pool, Megan Seymour scans the shrubby banks with binoculars. A slight change in colour and texture spotted in the tangled buttonbush swamp reveals her quarry: a thick, glossy, copperbelly water snake (Nerodia erythrogaster neglecta). [...]

The copperbelly water snake – named for its tangerine-orange underside – inhabited what was one of the largest wetland areas in North America.

Roughly the size of Connecticut and stretching from Fort Wayne in Indiana across much of north-west Ohio, the Great Black Swamp was home to elk, wolves, mountain lions and black bears.

In the mid-19th century, farmers began to clear the trees and drain the swamp to access the fertile soil hidden beneath the water. In just five decades, the Great Black Swamp was dry.

Today, the copperbelly water snake lays claim to just 50 sq km (20 sq miles) of remnant swamp forest in the tri-state area – slightly smaller than Manhattan Island.

Though the exact number of the reptiles is not known, experts estimate that fewer than 100 individuals, possibly as few as 40, remain.

“I think they will be gone within 20 years,” says [...] a land steward with the Nature Conservancy [...]. He believes saving the copperbelly water snake is essential to the region’s ecology because it is “an umbrella species” [...] for dozens of other declining species that rely on the swamp forest, including the rare bobolink blackbird and the checkerspot butterfly. When Seymour began searching for copperbelly water snakes in spring 2021, no one had seen one alive in the wild in almost three years. She spent more than 180 hours combing through the wetlands historically inhabited by the species but found none. [...]

---

All content above, images, caption, and text published by: Ryan Wagner. “‘They aren’t mean and they aren’t trying to get you’: saving the copperbelly water snake.” The Guardian. 14 February 2023. [All photos published with this story were also taken by Ryan Wagner. Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks added by me.]

For reference, here’s the distribution range of the copperbelly water snake:

And here, what was once the Great Black Swamp:

Snake, endemic species unique to Great Lakes region and flooded prairies of the “Prairie Peninsula,” nearly extinct.

[nyxshadowhawk]

I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part Six

Previous part.

Chapter 14: Of Beleriand and its Realms In which we get a geography lesson.

Had enough political geography yet? I’m not going to summarize this whole chapter, because it’s exactly what it says on the tin: it describes the realms of Beleriand. It is impossible to make sense of this chapter without looking at the map. And most of it is information that we already know. For the sake of being complete, and of helping myself keep track of all this information, here’s what’s important:

The northern land where the Noldor live is called Hísilomé (in Quenya) or Hithlum (in Sindarin), both of which mean “Land of Mist.” It’s called that because of all the smoke that comes from Angband blows over it. It’s co-ruled by Fingolfin and his son Fingon.

In the westernmost part of Beleriand, on the coast, is a land called Nevrast. Turgon, Fingolfin’s other son, rules there. It’s completely surrounded by mountains in a kind of triangular shape, which is not how mountains work. Its population consists of an even mix of Noldor and Sindar.

Remember how I said there were two Minas Tiriths? The one we know is the second one, in Gondor, many thousands of years later. The first one is a watchtower built in a small mountain pass on the River Sirion, here in Beleriand. Finrod built it, but he leaves it in the care of his brother Orodreth. (“Minas Tirith” just means “guard tower” in Sindarin, so that’s why there’s two fortresses with that name.)

The River Sirion flows south. West of it is the realm of Nargothrond, ruled by Finrod, and east of it is Doriath, the forest ruled by King Thingol of the Sindar.

The eagles live on a chain of mountains called the Crissaegrim. (Yes, the name of the best sword in Castlevania: Symphony of the Night is a reference to this! )

In the eastern part of Beleriand is the River Gelion, running parallel to the Sirion. It has six rivers that flow into it. That land is called Ossiriand, and the Green Elves live there. Directly north is Thargelion, where Caranthir (another one of Fëanor’s sons) has his castle.

In the northeast is Lothlann, which is the plain that’s most exposed to Morgoth. Maedhros has his castle there.

I feel like this chapter should have come before the last one. It describes a bunch of places which have already been referenced in relation to each other. So, why are they being described now, after they’ve already become relevant to the story? Like, for example, the Thangorodrim. In this chapter, we’re told that the Thangorodrim are mountains made out of the refuse from Morgoth’s excavations while he was building his fortress. That would have been nice to know before Mædhros was nailed to the face of them. Back in the last chapter, the text just sort of assumed that we already know what the Thangorodrim are. I gathered from the context that they’re mountains and that they’re connected to Morgoth. I guess that’s all one really needs to know, right? No story actually needs this detailed a description of the geography… but this book is 300 pages of straight infodumping. So, we get all the geography, and out-of-order.

Okay, now that that’s over, let’s move on to something interesting!

Chapter 15: Of the Noldor in Beleriand In which a legendary city is built, and Thingol hears all the dirt on the Noldor.

Remember Turgon? He’s Fingolfin’s son and Fingon’s brother, and he received a prophetic dream from Ulmo, the Vala of Water. The dream led him to finding a hidden valley in the north of Beleriand. Feeling homesick for Valinor, Turgon decided to build a city on the hill in the center of the valley, which would be like a New Tirion — the original city of the Noldor, replicated in Middle Earth!

Turgon brought many of the most skilled Noldor to the valley to build the city, and then ditched them to live comfortably in Nevrast while they did the work for him. After fifty-two years, the city was complete. Turgon named it Ondolindë, which means “The Rock of the Music of Water” in Quenya. But it’s better known by its Sindarin name, Gondolin.

The Hidden City of Gondolin by Aesthetica

Gondonlin is the Elven City (which is why it’s kind of surprising to learn that it’s a copy of an even greater one). It’s gorgeous and bright white, with beautiful fountains and gardens. The giant tower in the middle is Turgon’s palace, and in it he creates images of the Two Trees of Valinor, wrought out of literal silver and gold; the gold one is called Glingal, and the silver one is called Belthil.

The most wondrous treasure of Gondolin is, of course, Turgon’s beautiful daughter Idril Celebrindal. Like Galadriel, she almost has the light of the Gold Tree, Laurelin, in her hair. So, that makes her one of the prettiest Elves alive.

Ulmo promises to protect Gondolin, and ensure that no one will ever be able to find it against his will. But he straight-up tells Turgon not to get too attached to Gondolin. (Actually, he says “the work of thy hands” — lol, Turgon did nothing to help build it.) Ulmo also tells Turgon that his little safe-haven isn’t going to protect him from the Curse, so, he can expect treachery within Gondolin’s walls at some point. The only hope is going to be someone who comes from the west.

What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

A third of the Noldor and even more of the Sindar pass secretly into Gondolin, apparently disappearing overnight. (Nevrast is completely abandoned) Then the gates are shut.

Meanwhile, Galadriel is enjoying her life in the court of Thingol. Remember, she’s one of the only Noldor Elves who’s allowed to be there, past the magic wall. She has long talks with Queen Melian, the Maia, about Valinor. But Galadriel refuses to say anything about how and why the Two Trees died. Melian can tell that something’s wrong, and asks Galadriel what happened. Galadriel says that she wants to put the past behind her, and try to have some hope for the future.

Melian presses her — she knows better than to think, as everyone else does, that the Noldor were sent by the Valar to swoop in and save her people from being assaulted by Orcs. She notes that the Noldor don’t speak of the Valar at all; they just sort of pretend that the Valar don’t exist. From that, she concludes that the Noldor aren’t messengers, they’re exiles. Something went badly wrong.

Galadriel caves, and tells Melian about the Silmarils, about how Morgoth stole them, about the death of Finwë, and about how the Noldor left Valinor willingly despite the Valar not wanting them to leave. She neglects to mention any of the worse stuff, like the Oath that Fëanor’s sons took, or the kinslaying, or the Curse, or the burning of the ships. Melian senses that she’s still holding back information. She doesn’t press Galadriel any more, but she does tell her husband Thingol about the Silmarils.

Only Melian is really able to put two and two together, and realize just what a big-ass deal the Silmarils really are. They contain the last remaining Light of Valinor, and if Morgoth has them, then any attempt at recovering them is almost inherently pointless. It’s going to take far more power than Elves have to take the fight to him. Fëanor tried that, and now he’s dead, even though he was one of the greatest Elves. If anyone else tries to take on Morgoth, they could risk destroying the world in the process. For better or worse, the fate of Arda is tied up with that of the Silmarils.

Thingol is distraught to hear that Finwë is dead, and figures he was right not to trust the Noldor. The only silver lining is that at least the Noldor will make good allies against Morgoth, because peace with him doesn’t seem to be an option. Melian tells him to be wary of Fëanor’s sons. She could read between the lines and figure out what Galadriel wasn’t telling her. Fëanor’s sons are all guilty of crimes against the Valar, their own families, and even themselves. There’s a lot of unresolved tension between them that’s only dormant for the time being, and it can only get worse from here. Thingol dismisses her concerns. All he cares about is that Fëanor’s sons will give him his best shot at taking down Morgoth. Whatever drama is between them is their business.

By Wavesheep

Melian and Thingol decide not to speak of this again, but rumor spreads amongst the Sindar about what the Noldor did to get kicked out of Valinor. Many of these rumors are spread by Morgoth. Spreading rumors was how he set the Noldor on their dark path in the first place, and the Sindar were too naïve to know not to believe rumors. Círdan, however, catches wise. He perceives that the rumors are being spread maliciously, but doesn’t think to blame Morgoth. He assumes that the Noldorin princes are spreading rumors to slander each other. He sends messengers to Thingol to tell him about the rumors.

By pure bad luck, Finrod and his brothers happen to be there in Thingol’s court, visiting their sister Galadriel. So, Thingol hears all the rumors while they’re there. He explodes at Finrod for having lied by omission. Finrod protests that he’s never done anything to Thingol, nor have any of the other Noldor. Thingol cooly responds that all the Noldor have blood on their hands for kinslaying, but they don’t try to defend themselves or seek pardon. Finrod has nothing to say to that.

But Angrod, his brother, speaks up. Angrod blames Fëanor for the whole thing. The other Noldor are really the victims in this situation, he claims, because they were intoxicated by Fëanor’s words, and then Fëanor abandoned them to freeze to death. The reason why Thingol hasn’t heard any of this before is because it’s an act of treason against the Noldor to talk about it. Surely, Thingol can understand that?

Melian is less than impressed. She points out that, according to Angrod’s own account, Mandos doomed all the Noldor. That means that he and his siblings are just as damned as the rest of them. They're all affected by the Curse.

Thingol is silent for a moment. Then he tells Angrod and co. to get out of his house. He’s not going to shut them out forever, because they’re family. He’s also going to maintain his friendship with Fingolfin’s people, because he needs them to take down Morgoth. But, he refuses to hear their language be spoken in his presence, and he commands that none of the Sindar use it, either. Anyone who speaks Quenya will be branded a kinslayer.

So, now you know why Sindarin is the dominant Elven language in Middle-earth.

That sort of puts a damper on Quenya; it seems like such a magical and elevated language, but now it’s associated with the Noldor’s crimes. I suppose that makes sense, if the Noldor are the ones who primarily speak it. But it also seems a bit draconian for Thingol to consider someone guilty of a serious crime just for speaking Quenya.

Quenya therefore ceases to be a spoken language, and becomes mainly used for writing lore or singing old songs. It’s the Elvish version of Latin.

After that, things become a little awkward for Galadriel in Thingol’s court, so she leaves it and comes to live with her brother Finrod in Nargothrond. She asks him why he hasn’t taken a wife yet. Finrod gets a flash of premonition, and tells her that nothing of his realm will remain to be inherited by a son. But the real truth is that he left his true love, Amarië, in Valinor.

Finrod by _star热爱生活呀巴扎嘿

Chapter 16: Of Maeglin In which we meet an edgy bad-boy Elf.

Did you remember that Fingolfin had a daughter? It’s okay, I didn’t either. Her name is Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, and she’s known as the White Lady. She lives with Turgon, her brother, in Nevrast. She follows him to Gondolin, but she doesn’t really like it there. She prefers to wander freely in forests or ride horses in the fields, and she can’t do that if she’s effectively imprisoned by mountains and high walls on all sides.

Two hundred years pass (which I’m guessing is like twenty in elf years), and she finally asks Turgon if she can leave. Turgon doesn’t want her to leave. If anyone leaves Gondolin, then that risks revealing its existence to everyone else in the world, and that would be bad. Eventually he gives in, but tells her that she’s only allowed to meet with Fingon, their brother. Aredhel takes offense at this. She’s Turgon’s sister, not his lackey, and he has no right to tell her where to go or what to do. She leaves, and Turgon tells three of his lords to go with her to protect her, with the condition that they come straight back.

Aredhel immediately decides not to go see Fingon. She wants to find the sons of Fëanor (Maedhros, Caranthir, and co.), because they’re her friends. She tries to cut through the forest of Doriath, but the Sindar turn her away, because Thingol hates the Noldor now. She has to go around the long way. That way is dangerous, and polluted with poisonous water and evil creatures left behind by Morgoth and Ungoliant. Aredhel gets lost, and her escorts barely escape with their lives. They make it back to Gondolin, but have to give the terrible news to Turgon that they lost their charge along the way.

Turgon is grief-stricken and very, very frustrated. Aredhel survives, though, and ends up in Himlad, the land of Fëanor’s sons Celegorm and Curufin. They’re away, traveling further east with their brother Caranthir, but Aredhel is welcomed by Celegorm’s people.

Aredhel enjoys herself for a while, wandering in the forests like she used to, but a year passes and Celegorm still hasn’t come back. She starts wandering further and further, until she ends up in a small forest on the eastern edge of Doriath.

Aredhel lost in the dark forest by @gemennair

This forest is the darkest of all the forests in Beleriand, and it’s inhabited by an elf called Eöl, known as the Dark Elf. Eöl isn’t actually a Dark Elf (Moriquendi); he’s one of the Sindar, but he left Doriath when the magic wall went up. Now he’s basically nocturnal. He blames the Noldor for the return of Morgoth. He mostly doesn’t interact with other Elves, but he does like Dwarves, and gives them information about the Elves when they ask. The Dwarves taught him metalwork in exchange, and he designed a special kind of armor that’s thin and light and yet repels all weapons. It’s jet black, and he wears it all the time.

Skulking in the shadows, Eöl sees Aredhel enter his forest, and he lusts after her. He enchants the forest so that she can’t find her way out, and the forest always turns her towards the center. (Kind of like the Old Forest does to the Hobbits while they’re trying to pass through it in Fellowship.) When she finally arrives at Eöl’s house, tired from wandering, he welcomes her in. And that was the last her family heard of her for a long time.

Aredhel and Eöl by Elena Kukanova

It���s unknown exactly how Aredhel responded to Eöl’s intent to marry her. Maybe she fell in love with this edgy bad-boy elf in his spooky forest. But she landed in kind of the same situation that she was in back in Gondolin. Eöl lets her wander, at least, but only at night. He also forbids her from seeking out the other Noldor, and the sons of Fëanor in particular, which is what she wanted to do in the first place. Honestly, their relationship reminds me superficially of Hades and Persephone.

Eöl and Aredhel have a son. Secretly, Aredhel gives him a name in her forbidden native tongue of Quenya — Lómion, which means “Child of the Twilight.” Eöl doesn’t give him a name until he turns twelve, and that name is Maeglin, which means “sharp glance.” Maeglin grows up to resemble the Noldor, but he is more like his father in temperament.

Maeglin by @elfinfen

His father takes him to meet the Dwarves, who teach him mining, smithing, and metalwork. But Maeglin has a special relationship with his mother, and enjoys hearing her tales of Valinor and the House of Fingolfin. He especially likes hearing about Turgon and Gondolin.

In telling all these stories, Aredhel realizes just how much she misses Gondonlin. She wonders how she could have left in the first place. After such a long time in the dark shadows of the forest, the bright walls and fountains of Gondonlin seem lovely. But she refuses to tell Maeglin where Gondolin is, because that is such an important secret.

Eöl is also mad that Maeglin wants to meet his Noldor relatives. He’s an old enough Sinda to still identify himself as a member of the Teleri, and therefore, he thinks of his distant relatives in Valinor as his own people. He forbids Maeglin from seeking out the Noldor for the same reason that King Thingol banned Quenya — he takes the Noldor’s crime of kinslaying personally. (He probably should have thought of that before deciding to marry Aredhel, but whatever.) Maeglin, like any edgy teenager, does not take this well. He stops going to visit the Dwarves with his father, and Eöl starts to distrust his own son.

One summer, when Eöl is gone on one of his visits to the Dwarves, Maeglin suggests to his mother that they go to Gondolin. What’s the point of sticking around? She wants to see her people again, and Maeglin has learned all he can from Eöl. There’s no sense in remaining trapped in a dark forest with nothing else to do. So, they up and leave.

When Eöl gets back, he is furious to find them gone. Despite his hatred of the sun, he chases after them, but he’s waylaid by Curufin, one of Fëanor’s sons. Curufin asks what he’s doing there. Eöl lies, saying that his wife and son were on a casual visit to their relatives, and that it only makes sense that he should be with them. Curufin sees right through him, and tells him that they’re already gone. He gives Eöl permission to pass through, but tells him that the sooner he leaves, the better.

Eöl by @bohemianweasel

Eöl snipes that this isn’t the proper way to treat a kinsman. Curufin replies that it’s pretty rich for Eöl to ride upon his wife’s title when he’s been keeping her imprisoned in a forest for decades. If he wants the honor due to a kinsman, he should have acted like one. Curufin also gives Eöl a warning: He should return to his forest now. If he pursues his family, he’ll never come back.

If Eöl hated the Noldor before, now he really hates the Noldor.

As you probably guessed, he decides to chase after his family, and he eventually catches up with them just as they’re about to enter Gondolin. Gondolin, the secret city that no one is supposed to know the entrance to.

You can imagine how Turgon must have reacted when he sees his sister come back with a son in tow. She went out for a simple family visit, and returned with an adult child that she had with some creepy dude in a dark forest. But he’s happier to have her back and see her safe. Turgon also takes a liking to Maeglin, and thinks that he’s worthy to be one of the Princes of the Noldor. Maeglin swears fealty to Turgon.

Gondolin surpasses Maeglin’s wildest dreams. After having spent nearly his whole life in a dark forest, Gondolin is a whirl of light and color and interesting people. But more than anything else, he’s attracted to the king’s daughter, Idril… his first cousin.

Meanwhile, Eöl finds his way in. You know, the one thing Turgon didn’t want to have happen. Because he claims to be Aredhel’s husband, the guards restrain him (with difficulty) and bring him to Turgon. Aredhel is aghast that her abusive husband followed her all the way to her secret safe haven, but she tells the guards not to kill him. After all, he is telling the truth, and he’s still Maeglin’s father.

Eöl stands “proud and sullen” before Turgon, but despite his bad attitude, Turgon treats him honorably. Unlike Curufin, he accepts Eöl as a kinsman, and tells him that he’s welcome to stay in the city so long as he doesn’t leave it. Eöl goes on a rant about how this is the Tereri’s land, and (paraphrased) “you colonizing kinslayers don’t have any right to tell me where I can and can’t go, and how dare you keep my son from me!” He commands Maeglin to come with him, but Maeglin huffs and says nothing.

Turgon retorts that the only reason why Eöl’s woods are safe is because the Noldor protect the land from Orcs, so, he owes them. If it weren’t for the Noldor, he’d be Morgoth’s slave in Angband. And besides, you can’t argue with a king in his own castle. Either Eöl will live in Gondolin, or he’ll die there, and Maeglin will get the same choice.

Turgon by _star热爱生活呀巴扎嘿

Eöl just stands silently for several minutes. You could cut the tension with a knife. Then, in a sudden motion, he takes a javelin that he had concealed in his cloak and throws it straight at Maeglin. If he’s gonna die there, he’s taking Maeglin with him. Aredhel jumps in front of her son, and the javelin hits her in the shoulder.

Eöl is instantly beset by guards, who bind him and lead him away. Maeglin is just silent through all this, not knowing how to react. Aredhel and Idril both try to convince Turgon to be merciful during Eöl’s trial, but that night, Aredhel dies. The tip of the javelin was poisoned. Therefore, Turgon shows Eöl no mercy. He sentences him to die by being thrown from the top of the tower. As he falls, he curses Maeglin to have all his efforts fail and to suffer the same fate.

Caragdur - the same fate by SaMo-art

Most of the people of Gondolin believe justice has been served, but Idril is troubled. From that day onward, she distrusts Maeglin.

For the time being, Maeglin’s life is good. He rises through the ranks of Turgon’s court, and Turgon favors him. He finds many valuable metals in the mountains around Gondolin, and forges powerful steel weapons for the people of Gondolin. Maeglin is also wise, tough, and valiant in battle, making him a true asset to Gondolin. All is well… for now.

The only problem is that he’s still in love with Idril, who’s his first cousin. The Noldor don’t marry their cousins, and until now, none of them have wanted to. Idril also doesn’t love him; she can’t help but associate him with his insane father, and she thinks there’s a darkness in him. Somehow, he’s affected by the Curse. Slowly, Maeglin’s love for Idril festers into resentment. I’m sure that won’t cause any problems down the line.

Chapter 17: Of the Coming of Men into the West In which the Men finally arrive in Beleriand.

It’s been three hundred years since the Noldor first arrived in Beleriand. One day, Finrod Felagund is out exploring the countryside, and he sees cheery campfires and hears the sound of singing. That’s weird, he thinks, the Green Elves who live here don’t light campfires or sing at night. He worries that they might be Orcs, and sneaks closer, but he doesn’t recognize their language. They’re humans, the first Men to enter Beleriand. These Men are the people of Bëor the Old, and they’re singing because they believe that they’ve finally found a paradisal land without fear of Morgoth. Finrod finds them endearing.

When they go to sleep, Finrod sneaks further into their camp, picks up a crudely-carven harp, and begins to play. The Men wake up and are spellbound by the beauty of the faerie king’s music. Finrod sings about the creation of the world, and about Valinor. Although the Men don’t understand his language, images of what he’s singing appear in their minds, and so they learn about how the world was created.

By _star热爱生活呀巴扎嘿

By Elena Kukanova

By pan_brooke

By @pansen1802

(I couldn’t pick just one image for this scene. There are so many good ones!)

After all the Elf Drama that we’ve had to sit through, it’s easy to forget what the Elves really are. They’re the Fair Folk. This scene really speaks to their folkloric roots.

At first, the Men think that Finrod is a Vala, which they’ve heard of. Finrod decides to stay with the Men for some time, in order to teach them things. They call him Nómin, which in their language means “the Wise.” Finrod can understand the Men’s speech realtively easily, because he can read their minds, and because they learned how to speak from the Dark Elves (the Avari) in the east. (This is important because it means that all of the Children of Ilúvatar’s languages descend from the original language of the Elves. It’s the Proto-Indo-European of Middle-earth.)

Finrod asks Bëor why the Men are there. Bëor doesn’t really know, because Men have short lives, and it’s taken many generations for them to get this far. Whatever it was they were fleeing in the first place, it was bad, and they’ve heard enough about Valinor to know that there’s Light in the west. Morgoth did something to corrupt them, as he always does. In fact, as soon as Men arrived in Middle-earth, Morgoth considered this such a big deal that he abandoned the war in Beleriand, putting Sauron in charge of it. Morgoth immediately went to go mess with the Men. Therefore, there’s some human equivalent of the Noldor’s Original Sin of kinslaying. But what it is, no one knows. Bëor tells Finrod that there are more Men heading westwards.

Some of the Green Elves send messengers to Finrod to ask about the Men. They’re not happy that these refugees of an unknown race are moving onto their land. They consider Men their enemies, because the Men cut down trees and kill animals. They tell Finrod to tell the Men to either go back the way they came, or move forward.

Finrod advises the Men to keep moving. They head further West, so that they’re just east of Doriath and just south of Eöl’s dark forest. This is the land that Amrod and Amras, the twin sons of Fëanor, rule over. This land is now called Estolad, “Encampment.” By that point, a year has passed since Finrod first found the Men, and he decides to return home to his own palace, Nargothrond. Bëor begs to come with him and serve him, so he does, leaving his son in charge of the Men.

Soon after, more groups of Men make their way into Beleriand. They settle in whatever little niches they can find amongst the lands that the Elves had divided up amongst themselves. The Elves are extremely interested in the Men, whom they call Edain, “the Second People.” Both Noldor and Sindar alike go to see them. They send messengers to welcome the Men, and some of the Men go to serve in the courts of the Elven kings. Overtime, more and more of them go to serve the Elves.

Thingol, however, is unhappy about the coming of Men. He already was not pleased about the arrival of the Noldor in his lands, even before he found out that they were kinslayers and banned their language. Now, a whole separate group of refugees is invading his kingdom from the other direction, dividing it into even smaller portions. What’s worse, he keeps having troubling dreams about them. The only person he’s willing to talk to about this is Finrod. Thingol decrees that the Men are only allowed to live in the north of Beleriand, and that the Elf lords that they serve are responsible for them. None of the Men are allowed to come into Doriath.

Melian knows that the arrival of Men means that big changes are coming. She whispers to Galadriel that one of the Men will eventually break through her magic wall, because the power of that Man’s destiny will overcome her own. People will sing about that event until the distant future, when Middle-earth is unrecognizable.

Many of the Men are still interested in getting to Valinor, so they can live with the Gods. They’re frustrated and disappointed to know that Valinor is even further west, across the sea. The only God that’s there with them is Morgoth, the Lord of the Dark. (This echoes the Christian idea that God is removed from the world, while Satan is here on earth with us and troubles us while we’re alive.) The Men basically have two options: to try to get across the sea to Valinor, or to try to help the Elves defeat Morgoth.

One Man, Amlach, makes the bold suggestion that there is no Valinor, and that the Elves have been lying to them. The Men have no proof that the Gods exist, and they don’t even have any proof that Morgoth exists beyond the vague evil that their great-grandfathers fled. Maybe it’s the Elves and not Morgoth who want to take over the world! Sound familiar? These are basically all the same conspiracy theories that drove the Noldor out of Valinor.

It’s darkly telling that the source of evil in The Silmarillion is conspiracy theories, lies, misunderstandings, and miscommunications. Morgoth didn’t force the Noldor to kill their relatives — they did that on their own. Now, he’s trying the same tactic all over again with the Men. All he needs to do is sew distrust amongst the people, so that they’ll attack each other instead of him, and destroy everything in the process. This speaks to Tolkien’s general theme about the power of language, but it also seems particularly poignant right now.

Morgoth’s not done yet, though. Despite his best efforts to sew distrust, the friendship between Elves and Men still holds. He decides to try a more direct approach, and sends Orcs to attack a group of Men. The Men are a lot weaker against the Orcs than the Elves are, and they barely survive the siege. Caranthir arrives with the cavalry at the last minute to drive back the Orcs. Caranthir offers the Men protection in his lands in the north. Their leader, Haleth, refuses; she doesn’t want to live under someone else’s rule. She tells Caranthir that she’d rather go further west. She gathers what’s left of her people, and brings them to Estolad.

Haleth leads her people further and further west. They travel through the land north of Doriath, the same poisonous land where Aredhel originally got lost. Many of her people die, and the survivors regret making the journey, but it’s too late to go back now. She tries to restore their way of life best she can.

Haleth by @yidanyuan

Now, Haleth and her people are living in a forest called Brethil, northwest of Doriath. This is too close for Thingol’s comfort. Finrod vouches for Haleth and her people, and tells Thingol about the hell that they went through. Thingol reluctantly permits them to live in the forest, so long as they remain outside the magic wall and help defend the forest from Orcs. He worries that the Men and Orcs could become allies and try to attack Doriath. Haleth is disturbed that Thingol would let that thought cross his mind; why would she ally herself with Orcs, after Orcs laid siege to her village and killed her father and brother? If Thingol wants her to kill Orcs, he doesn’t need to tell her twice. She remains in Brethil until she dies, at which point her people build a great barrow for her.

Overtime, the Men learn Sindarin. They remain enthralled by the Elves, and want to learn as much of their lore as possible. But the Elves recognize that Men need to have kingdoms and leaders of their own. The different ethnic groups of Men are therefore given their own lands by the Elven Kings. In addition to Haleth and her people, there are two other important kings of Men:

One of the kings of Men is Hador Lórindol (“Goldenhead”), a member of Fingolfin’s court, whom Fingolfin is fond of. Hador’s people speak both Sindarin and their own language, which eventually evolves into the language of Númenor (which in turn evolves into Westron, the in-universe language that The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit are written in, rendered as Modern English by our good Professor Tolkien). One of Hador’s sons is named Galdor. Galdor has two sons, Hurin and Huor. They each have a son — Húrin’s son is Túrin, and Huor’s son is Tuor. Tuor has a son, Earendil, whose name should ring a bell. Húrin, Huor, Túrin, and Tuor are all going to be important characters going forward in The Silmarillion. Earendil is the father of Elrond and his brother Elros, and much further down the line, Aragorn will be born from his lineage.

The other important king of Men is Boromir — no, not that one, this one is the son of Bëor the Old. One of his great-great-grandchildren is Morwen, the mother of Túrin, and another one of his great-great-grandchildren is Rían, the mother of Tuor. A third great-great-grandchild is Beren, who’s also a significant character going forward, and his daughter becomes the wife of Earendil, therefore the many-times-great-grandmother of Aragorn.

TL;DR: These two important kings’ grandchildren will marry each other, and their descendants will be the Kings of Numenor, whose line will eventually end with Aragorn. This is where it starts. Also, most of these great-grandchildren are about to become relevant here in the Silm.

Bëor is the first of the Men to die of old age, rather than being killed in battle. The Men are struck by their own mortality. They’re not just vulnerable to being killed — unlike the Elves, they actually have an expiration date. The scope of Men’s lives is barely a hundred years. In the First Age, the Men are practically mayflies. They also have no idea where they go when they die.

Still, the Men that settled in Beleriand are vastly superior to the Men that remained in the East, because they had the opportunity to learn skills, lore, and craftsmanship from the Elves. Also, the men are elevated somewhat just from having seen the Elves’ beautiful faces, because the Elves saw Valinor. Even secondhand, the light of Valinor is just that powerful.

[sirenjose]

Golden Cave Eye = Cyaegha Theory (Updated)

No one may care about my Cyaegha theory, but we have:

Hunter Norton holding a firey eyeball,

Norton walking to towards a moon,

Norton being lured + doing bad stuff,

and head pain.

Cyaegha is a literal (green) eye, depicted as the moon, does hypnotic call, and controls people.

I mean, we also had what to me looks like it could be a picture of the Golden Cave eye that Norton drew in his room in the live action trailer, as well as a picture of his magnet. A magnet made from a meteorite in Golden Cave that is said to affect him and make him extreme.

And similar to the picture of Norton and Margie walking towards a moon in the essence trailer, we had a green glow coming from outside Norton's window in the live action trailer, with an angle like it could be the moon (and light coming from outside the window also like moonlight).

In the live action trailer, we see a visible change in his behavior once the green light appears. It's only at this point he shows no care for others around him, and also only then that we see him at Golden Cave, bringing other miners, and preparing the explosion.

Afterwards we saw him passed out, wake up then soon after very visibly freaked out/scared of something (maybe he saw the green eye in Golden Cave, rushing to set up the dynamite in a panic, and he keeps looking back at the green glow in the room behind him.

In the backstory trailer, we also see him having another mental struggle, fighting with himself and a sort of visible division between regular Norton and Hunter Norton like they're not quite the same person or at least like Norton's struggling against Hunter Norton.

There was how in Time of Reunion, we see Hunter Norton's eye become the moon, which relates to how the moon in Cyaegha's story during a dream the main character turns green then turns into Cyaegha.

As for in game, Golden Cave itself has a large green eye in it, and Cyaegha is a literal large green eye with tentacles. Cyaegha is sealed underground, under a mountain, which matches up with the eye in Golden Cave.

Norton is afraid of the "darkness" of the mine. His hunter backstory talks about a "fear of falling into the endless void" and his "fear" growing in the darkness. Cyaegha is "The One in Darkness", is sealed under the mountain "Dark Hill", and in the story "Darkness, My Name Is".

In Cyaegha's story, he can draw the locals to him and make them do a ritual for him. He does this at night while they're sleeping, and once they're done, they wake up with no memory of their actions Norton in the Golden Cave trailer writes "Don't Forget"

Cyaegha's ability is described as "dark mesmerism" in Call of Cthulhu, and it can be similar to the affect Norton's magnets are said to have on him.

Lily's essence, which is tied to Golden Cave, has their race happen on the night of a full moon.

In Golden Cave, the ghouls don't have eyes, and Cyaegha has a thing where his followers can remove their eyes for special (night) "vision".

And about the ghouls, Cyaegha can grant his followers essentially auto regeneration, but they become permanently disfigured. Lily's essence also talks about people being affected by "phosphoresent illness" that changes how they look (corrupts).

Cyaegha also has a skill "bestow vitality" that will heal everyone nearby but if anyone tries to act against him , it does damage.

[crappymixtape]

i hate you ( not )

REQUEST → anonymous, 500 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ love a good enemies to lovers smutty fic – anything works, just lots of sarcasm and name calling to build up the tension • 18+ | ( 3.6k – a nice lil mountain of angst that rolls down into a big ol’ valley of smut, steve x reader )

I H A T E Y O U ( N O T ) 🎶 dopamine, julius black

“Are you seriously following me right now?” you didn’t even bother looking over your shoulder as you shouted over the crunch of Steve’s shoes in the gravel behind you trying to catch up.

He was fucking impossible. Always finding a way to get under your skin. Telling you the way you stocked the shelves at Family Video was wrong. Making fun of your beater of a car. Chewing his chips so loudly in the break room you thought it’d make you go certifiably insane. Always obnoxious, but easily dealt with til now. When he’d gone too far.

A party down at the quarry. Too much beer and smoke and haze and the crack of the bonfire against the inky black sky. You were trying to talk to a boy you’d run into at the store, a cute boy. One that didn’t smack his lips or slurp his soda. One that didn’t look at you like you were the bane of his existence and it had been going so well for once.

Had been.

Until Steve.

“Yeah, they’re so fucking good live. Maybe I can take you next time they’re in town?”

“I’d love that,” your stomach flipped over, grin pulling at the corners of your lips as Liam looked down at you through his dark curls. Smiled at you warm and soft. Eyes deep and green, like the trees along the fence line at night and god, it was just nice to be treated like this for once.

“You don’t even like them,” Steve’s voice cut in as he stepped up next to you beer in hand, and your cheeks burned. Bright red, embarrassed and angry.

Liam looked over at Steve, confusion pinching between his brows and then glanced down at you.

“Oh, I thought you said–”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” you insisted, turning your back to Steve and trying your best to smile up at Liam, but the warmth on his face had faded.

“Okay,” Liam said, drawing out the vowel. Drinking the rest of his beer he tossed the can into the fire and jammed his hands into his pockets, “Well. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Wait! A-are you leaving? You just got here,” you protested, trying not to sound desperate. Liam was so sweet and all you wanted for once was just to have a nice time, but he was already turning to walk back up the hill.

“Yeah, sorry. I gotta be up early for work. I’ll call you,” he said, but you knew he wouldn’t as he forced a smile. Gave you a small half wave before heading across the gravel of the quarry and up to his truck.

“But–don’t you want to–” you stopped yourself short knowing it was useless. Steve chuckled behind you and you felt heat rise in your chest again.

Eyes squeezing shut and hands balled into fists, your nails pressed half moons into your palms as you spun back around to Steve. The glare you gave him wiped the grin right off his face and his lips twisted into a scowl.

“What?” he asked stupidly and you huffed a sound of disbelief.

“What d’you mean, what?” you shot back, taking a few steps toward him, “You just fucked that up for me. On purpose!”

“I did you a favor, that guy’s an idiot,” Steve grumbled and you laughed then. A hollow, humorless one that pushed itself from your lungs.

“You’re a real dick, Harrington,” you said, stepping up to him in defiance and he crowded down over you. Looked at you like a challenge. Eyes lit up bright in the firelight. Melted caramel. Amber. Whiskey and honey and you didn’t shy away from it.

“Oh, yeah? Well you’re no ray of sunshine, princess,” he was close enough now you could feel his breath warm over your cheek and the air grew thick, too hot, and it had nothing to do with the summer heat or the fire.

“Asshole,” you half whispered, using what little resolve you had left to tear away from him and stalk up the same hill Liam had toward your car, leaving Steve behind in a lurch.

You could hear gravel crunching behind you, the slip and slide of rock on rock punctuated by Steve’s sharp breaths.

“Are you seriously following me right now?”

“Yeah, if you just–Jesus Christ–slow down!” Steve’s feet skidded as he nearly tripped, but you kept going, digging in your purse for your keys.

You didn’t want to stay, didn’t want to hear whatever bullshit excuse he had loaded. You couldn’t. Not without ripping into him. Fumbling your key in your hand you jammed it into the lock just as Steve caught up, hands on his hips as he sucked in gasps of air.

“C’mon. Can you just–can you just gimme a minute?” he asked, out of breath and tone edging on pleading, but you resisted turning around.

“Why the hell would I do that?” you asked against your car door.

“Shit, princess. D’you really hate me that much?” his tone was even softer this time and you shook your head.

“Only as much as you hate me,” you snapped.

Finally getting the lock undone, you tried to wrench the door open, but Steve’s hand stopped you. Pressed into yours and kept it shut.

“God, what’s your problem?” you turned to hurl daggers at him, but the words died in your throat when you realized just how close he was.

Toes bumping into yours, hair falling all messy across his forehead, chest still heaving with the effort of jogging up the hill and everything blurred. Dizzy and spinning and even though you hadn’t been the one running, you couldn’t catch your breath.

“I don’t have one,” he said voice low and you felt your lips fall open at the way it made your stomach twist.

The anger that had settled in your chest shifting into something else. Something that felt dangerous. Swallowing thick you tried to shake your head, shake him, and you pulled your hand away from his.

“Sure seems like it,” you mumbled, mouth firmed in a line, trying so hard to stand your ground.

His brows pinched together. A mixture of frustration, uncertainty. Struggling to put words to the feelings that were squeezing in his chest, just as conflicted as you were. He looked at you through the long sweep of his lashes, eyes searching yours and bit at the inside of his cheek.

He thought he’d been in love with you the minute you walked into Family Video. Wearing your cut off jeans and an old baggy Hawkins High basketball jersey. Hair pulled up away from your face so that he could see the soft curve of your shoulders, the baby hairs that curled at the nape of your neck. You looked grumpy, frustrated, and the frown twisting across your lips drove him crazy. So did the heat in your tone as you talked to Keith, telling him you wanted was ‘a stupid job’ to pay for your ��stupid bills’ and god if he didn’t feel stupid for staring.

There was no way you didn’t have a boyfriend. You were too hot. Too funny and sharp and cool. Hell, even if you didn’t have a boyfriend he figured there was no way he’d have a chance, so he did what he always did. Acted like he didn’t care. Needled you, pestered you, got under your skin. Got a little mean with it, but he hadn’t expected it to backfire. Hadn’t expected you play back and fuck if it didn’t make it worse.

Took to calling you Princess because he loved the way you glared at him.

Ate half your lunch just so he had an excuse to walk you across the street for a bag of chips.

Said you did things wrong just so you’d shove at him, tell him ‘if he was so good at it why didn’t he show you?’

And when he finally figured out you were single he felt like he’d fucked up. Like he’d taken it too far and there was no way he could be what he really wanted to be for you. No way to tell you how badly he wanted to take you out. How badly he wanted to treat you right. Hold your hand and call you baby.

Hey, baby.

How much he wished he could press his lips into yours and see if you tasted all sweet and tart at the same time. Sour on the outside, sugar on the inside. How he wanted to run his hands up your legs, feel you under him, tell you things that’d pull sweet sounds from your lips, but now you were here at this stupid party. Now there was Liam and he couldn’t help it.

Anything to keep him away from you and now he felt like he was answering for everything.

“See?” you insisted at his hesitation, huffing a sigh and turning back into your car, but Steve grabbed at your hand and spun you around again.

“S’not you!” he said a little too loud, cheeks burning with his admission and he bit his lips between his teeth, “It’s everybody else.”

Your face shifted skeptical, a little cynical, but he was so damn close. Too close and you tried to pull in a breath. Tried to hold onto your anger, but it slipped through your fingers like water. Scattered like wishes on a breeze as the scent of his cologne made you go all hazy. The look in his eyes pouring into you like kerosene on a fire. Made you want to grab fistfuls of his shirt in your hands and feel the full weight of him on you and–

“I don’t see what that’s gotta do with me,” you sniped, trying to keep your tone short, but it came out softer and he took the opportunity and ran with it.

“Everything, actually,” his lips tugged up into a small sheepish smile, but dropped again as he realized there was more to say. “I know I’m a dick–”

“You think?” you cut in and he leveled you with a look.

“Thanks,” he muttered and it pulled a little grin from you, but the next thing he said wiped it off your face, “M’sorry,” and your stomach flipped over at the way he was looking at you. “I just…I wish it were me,” he said, lifting a hand to your cheek and tucking a few stray locks of hair behind your ear.

Wish it were me. Your heart was racing.

“Wish what was you?” you whispered. Afraid to hear the answer. Holding your breath as he leaned in. Nose nearly brushing over your cheek. Close enough to kiss you if he wanted and god did you want him to.

“The one askin’ you out,” he whispered back and it struck you silent.

How was that possible? He was awful. Annoying and irritating and obnoxious and now he was telling you he wanted to ask you out?

“So ask me, Harrington,” you murmured and watched as his brows lifted in surprise, lips parted into a little ‘o’ as his brain raced to catch up.

“Wai–what?” he stumbled over his words and you pressed a hand to his chest.

“Ask me,” you said again and he huffed a laugh, tongue jammed into his cheek as he looked back down at you.

“Okay,” he managed, licking over his lips as he gathered himself back up, “C-Can I take you out?”

“Mmhm,” you murmured, nerves giving way to confidence and you pulled him down into you a little closer. Pressed your lips against his ear and whispered, “Kiss me.” And it nearly knocked him over.

Pulling away you looked up at him, whispered his name like a question and it blew his pupils wide. Dark at the center and fringed in gold and it was enough to make him lean back down. Soft and tentative at first, but bolder and braver when you sighed into him.

An exhale. A release. A realization of what you’d wanted this whole time and it made you grab his shirt in your hands, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and the sounds you pulled from each other were greedy.

More more more.

Hands splaying out over his chest you slid them up his shoulders and into his hair, pulling it lightly as his tongue licked into you and the moan he loosed made you press your thighs together.

“Shit,” he hissed, fingers pressing into the plush of your hips, mouth dragging hot down your neck and across your collarbone. Kisses messy and slipping on your skin and god you needed him. “Christ, princess, you drive me crazy,” he admitted and you grinned, all smug and holding the upper hand, but then he slotted a leg between your thighs and you lost it.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Felt like he was the only thing keeping you from falling away and it made you hold onto him tighter. You could still hear the laughter and the music down at the bonfire, but it sounded so far away. Both of you hidden in the thick, indigo shadows that fell out under the stand of trees, dark enough to not care what you were about to ask.

“Steve,” you pulled away just enough to speak and he stopped, both of you panting short breaths into the space between you.

“Sorry, can slow down if you want–”

“No–shit–” you squeezed your eyes shut to focus, “Don’t stop.” Swallowing thick you opened your eyes again and looked right up at him, “Just get in.”

Hands slipping against your car you fumbled to open the door to the backseat and half shoved him in before piling in after. When you closed it behind you the small space was suddenly filled with the sounds of your breaths. Quick and nervous and anticipating.

Steve sat on the bench, just as anxious as you were, and watched with heavy lidded eyes as you climbed over him. Straddled him with a leg on either side. Your dress hitching up and bunching at your hips and all he could do was grab onto your thighs for dear life. Pressing a hand into the seat behind his head you bit your lip between your teeth and pulled in a steadying breath.

“Here,” you whispered, taking one of his hands and sliding it between your legs. Making him feel the heat that had pooled there, showing him what he was doing to you and he groaned. A filthy sound that fell from his lips as he pressed his fingers against your soaked panties.

“Fuck,” he rasped, already wrecked from feeling how wet you were. “Okayokayokay. So fuckin’ hot, babe. Shit,” nonsense fell from his lips and you had half a mind to laugh at him, but his fingers were pulling your panties aside and touching you not your panties and it pulled a gasp from you.

At the sound his eyes darted up to look at you, make sure you were okay and you put your hand back over his. Moving his fingers in slow circles as they slipped against your slick.

“Like that?” he asked eyes still on you, keeping up the motion as your hand fell away.

You tried to say yes, but it melted into another moan and he leaned in to press a kiss to your neck. Mouth open and messy. Licking against the softness of your skin and sucking a bruise on it.

“Tell me,” he said into the hollow behind your ear, trailing kisses as he went, your hips rocking against his fingers as his circles grew tighter and faster.

“Like that–ye–yeah–yes. God, don’t stop,” you stuttered over your words hands moving to grip onto his shoulders as he slipped first one then two fingers inside of you.

He filled you up better than you could at home, your cheek pressed into your pillow, tears welling up in your eyes in frustration as you struggled to reach the spot you wanted. The hot drag of him sliding in and out in and out made you see white, made your tighten your hold on him and as you loosed another moan he bucked up into you.

You could feel how hard he was through his jeans against the bare skin of your thigh and it only made you want him more. “Steve,” you leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his, “Please tell me you have a condom.”

His fingers stopped moving and he loosed a heavy sigh, swallowing down the nerves that had pushed themselves into his throat. “Yeah, course, lemme just–” lifting his hips, and you, from the seat he yanked his wallet out of his back pocket.

He had stopped carrying them around after high school. Felt like it was fucking juvenile, but one time after Steve had watched you leave work, put his returns in the wrong spot and upside down, Robin had thrown one across the store at him. “Here, dingus,” she’d grumbled, “Don’t be an idiot.” And he’d been so embarrassed, afraid to tell her he didn’t think he’d ever need it, but he silently thanked her now. Always saving his ass.

Gently nudging you back into the headrests on the front seats he put his wallet down and fumbled his fingers against the button on his jeans. He was hard as a rock and when he undid his zipper it sprang out without any encouragement.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he ripped the foil of the condom wrapper between his teeth and thumb. Of course he drove you crazy at work, but you couldn’t deny you’d thought about him when you were alone in your room. Touching yourself beneath the sheets. Fantasizing about what it would be like and now that you were seeing it for real your heart hammered in your chest, legs slipping together as you grew wetter by the second.

He wrapped a hand around his length pumping once, twice, three times before rolling the condom down from tip to root and looking back up at you.

“Y’okay?” he asked, hands moving to hold onto your hips and you realized how ridiculous you must’ve looked.

“Mmhm,” you murmured and let him pull you slowly back into his lap.

“Gotta tell me if you aren’t,” he whispered and you nodded as he gave you a little smile, brushed your hair out of your face and looked just a little longer. “So pretty,” he said softly, words lighting a fire in your chest, and you pressed a kiss to him again. Sucking on his bottom lip and letting it go with a dirty pop and he thought he was going to come right there on the spot. “Sh–shit, okayokay,” he breathed, pressing his tip against your entrance, hesitating just a little and you helped him the rest of the way, pushing down slowly.

You watched as he filled you up, stretched you out until he was buried deep inside you, the tight fit making you squirm over him.

“Ohhh god, so tight, feel so good babe, Christ,” he rambled and you chuckled a little until he hit the soft, squishy spot at the back of you and you moaned loudly. Fell forward onto his chest and rolled your hips forward, silently begging him to move as if he could do anything else. “I got you,” he promised.

Hands gripping your hips again he slowly turned and lowered you down, your back against the seat bench, his arms on either side of you to hold himself up. Murmured soft, dirty things under his breath as he crowded over you, started rocking his hips into you, the wet sounds of you filling up the car.

“Wish you’d asked me sooner,” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist and he gave you a smug little smile.

“Yeah? Worth the wait?” he asked, breath hitching in his throat as he picked up the pace, fronts of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours.

“Shut up,” you gasped as he bottomed out inside of you. Tangling your fingers into his hair you pulled and it dragged a groan from him as he started to fuck you faster. Slipping a hand between your legs you drew tight, messy circles over your clit, pushing yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Ste–shit. Steve, harder,” you practically begged and the pleading tone in your voice sent him.

“Harder,” he said back, it was all he could muster, wrecked and chest heaving with each breath he sucked in, fucking into you with heavy thrusts, “M’so close.”

Opening your mouth a so close almost fell from your lips too, but the coil in your stomach had been so tightly wound that the combination of your fingers over your clit and Steve finally made it snap.

You clenched tight around him as you both rode out your climax. Head pressed against the seat and eyes rolling back to look out the window at the stars. The moon as it hung lazy in the sky. Steve spilling sweet words of praise into your ears and bringing you back down to earth. Wrapping you up soft and warm in his voice.

He rested his forehead against yours, both of your brows dewy with sweat, and let out a contented sigh as he softened inside you.

“Wish I’d asked you sooner too,” he murmured, poking fun at himself with your words from earlier and you leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Worth the wait,” you finally agreed and he grinned.

God damn, was it worth the wait.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[ceiling-karasu]

World Building continued: Backstory for the wars involving Flower Hill, Teikoku, and Usuhan Jiyeog, and subsequent occupations.

Apologies in advance for this being so long. I wanted to know how widespread Japanese weasels are in real life, and found something interesting I could use.

Japanese weasels originate from three areas of Japan, that being Honshu, Kyushu, and Shikoku.

Coincidentally, Japan famously has three Ceremonial Regalia in the form of a sword, magatama beads, and a mirror. These items are not seen by anyone other than the royal family and certain priests (images on the internet are recreations of what they could possibly look like, and those seen in public are symbolic stand-ins), but they symbolize the authority of the royal family.

Which allows me to make a backstory for my AU to help explain the wars and occupations, very loosely based off of events and locations in history, especially since animal biology limits certain events from happening.

In the past, there was an Emperor, who preferred for Teikoku to be in isolation. Under his rule, and of those before him, are smaller prefectures run by princes, lords, or other lessor royal families.

Contact with the United States Alliance and other nations led to a period of aggression and imperialism surrounding the empire of Teikoku, as they strove to fight against a stagnating economy that believed in its own superiority in the world, as well as a strict caste system preventing innovation.

Eventually, after some time, three princes are sent out to conquer the final few neighboring islands, so that may join the empire, and provide a larger force for when they make a move for the peninsula and the mainland.

The three princes are named after their prefectures, and the Emperor has given them each one of the Imperial Regalia as proof of their superiority.

The Sword

Honshu is the main island of Japan, and is also known as the dragonfly island. Teikoku will call it Tonbo, which refers to dragonflies, which are fierce and deadly creatures. As such, their Imperial Regalia is the sword, Yūki no ken (the sword of valor), and is based off of Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi (Grass-Cutter). Tonbo is the main physical fighting force of Teikoku.

The Magatama Jewels

Kyushu is smaller than Honshu, but it had a lot of trade circuits around the ocean and the mountains. So I will make a prefecture named Kairo (Circuit), and have the area be responsible for trade and roads around the empire, as well as in the fighting forces. I would use the famous Magatama jewels (Benevolence) to symbolize their rule.

The Mirror

Shikoku means four provinces, and is the least populated area of the three areas. Shikoku also has a lot of temples (perhaps run by green pheasants, the national symbol of Japan), which draws in a lot of pilgrims. But they also maintain a lot of gateways to other prefectures. So maybe Genkan for entryway. They are responsible for planning and strategizing for the other two. They can have the Michi no kagami, mirror of the path to represent wisdom/truth, based on the Yata no Kagami.

VERY loosely taking inspiration from The Tale of the Heike, a collection of Japanese epic poetry with many translations and retelling (actually written down 200 years after said events supposedly happened), which says that the royal families that held these Regalia were defeated in a naval battle, and threw themselves and the treasures into the sea. Subsequent legends suggest that many search and diving parties have been led to recover the Regalia.

In my AU, I hold that the items were thrown into the sea, with the princes believing that they could return for them later even if they were captured, although they managed to escape. It was a complete disgrace for the Emperor, as without the Ceremonial Regalia, the legitimacy of the entire palace was thrown into question.

And then the box holding the Magatama washed up on the shores of the peninsula.

It is returned as a gesture of good will, but as no good deed goes unpunished, Teikoku believes that they must have taken the other Imperial Regalia for themselves, starting a land invasion. The small army is annihilated by farmers, fresh out of overthrowing their own monarchy, wielding guns, which Teikoku has never seen before.

Which results in a larger army being sent, which is also defeated and the princes captured and possibly executed by the hedgehog army in the north of the country. At this point, without the authority of the Ceremonial Regalia, and increasing economical desperation, the country is forced to undergo a reformation. While there is still an Emperor, he does not hold as much political power as he once did.

Teikoku left behind settlements of soldiers and colonists controlling the southern portion of the peninsula, which they name Usuhan Jiyeog, who take up ruler-ship and fish farming.

The hedgehogs use the proof of their power in defending their areas to take control of what they would name Flower Hill.

It is a strongly held belief that before they backed away from Usuhan Jiyeog, the Emperor promised that anyone who managed to retrieve the Ceremonial Regalia from Flower Hill would be reinstated as the next emperor, and be rewarded with power beyond their wildest dreams.

Did the other two, heavier, items, even wash up on the shores of the peninsula like the jewels, locked in an airtight box? Or did they sink to the bottom, as they were heavier? Who is to say...

But alongside the greed, desperation for power, and food production issues, the temptation of finding the supposedly stolen Imperial Regalia locked away in some distant stronghold is a good enough reason as any to attempt to occupy Flower Hill.

Now, I'm not about to retcon what I have already written and say that Commander Jogjebi wanted the sword and mirror, and Huinjogjebi is a weasel of science who would likely not be interested anyway. But claiming that Flower Hill stole precious items and symbols of their country in the past, and them not being able to disprove it, is enough of an excuse to make quite a few countries in the international courts turn a blind eye to the happenings surrounding Flower Hill.

Oil Production

I did figure out the oil and gas situation. I did go ahead and give the Jindo Empire a large amount of oil. The Venezuela country below the United States Alliance is now the República de Cultivos Oleaginosos, and is trying to prevent the wolves' country from occupying their regions.

Meanwhile, the vast majority of the world's oil in my AU is being produced in this country.

While it used to be many different nations in the past, the leaders understood that their vast oil and gas reserves would result in large scale invasions, and agreed to band together into the Equatorial Allegiance.

[liberty-or-death]

Wangxian Poems "Envious of the green hills that have the serenity of one that’s deep in thought, or the white crane that has forgotten the ways of the world and has a tranquil heart. " (Eight Sounds of Ganzhou.  Picking Unripened Plums to Accompany My Wine 八声甘州·摘青梅荐酒 by Tang Hui 汤恢)

There are a few poems that possibly inspired Wangxian. All these poems are widely discussed among the chinese fans so I thought I’d share it everyone. Anyway they’re all really lovely 😍😍😍

The “Eight Sounds of Ganzhou. Picking Unripened Plums to Accompany My Wine. 八声甘州·摘青梅荐酒” is a Ci written by Tang Hui 汤恢, poet in the Southern Song Dynasty. The “Eight Songs of Ganzhou” is a specific ci pattern.

摘青梅荐酒，甚残寒，犹怯苎萝衣。

Picking unripened plums to accompany my wine. It was bitterly cold, and filled with worries over my ramie made clothes.

T/N: Ramie was weaved by people who lived in the mountains into clothes.

正柳腴花瘦，绿云冉冉，红雪霏霏。

The willows trees are lush, the flowers are withering; like green clouds flowing slowly, and red snow falling like rain.

隔屋秦筝依约，谁品春词？

The house next door has a date with the qin zheng, just who is singing the songs of springs?

T/N: 春词 - This either means the song of springs or words of love between a couple. The Qin Zheng is a musical instrument

回首繁华梦，流水斜晖。

Look back, the former thriving prosperity was like a dream, like the river that flows way and the setting sun.

寄隐孤山山下，但一瓢饮水，深掩苔扉。

I reside at the bottom of the Mount Lu. But I live frugally as I drink from the ladle and cover the door filled with moss.

T/N: Mount Gu is an island on the West Lake of Hangzhou. Gu 孤 also means Lonely so you could also interpret this as the “lonely mountain”. It’s a popular spots for poets in the Tang and Song Dynasty. Bai Juyi and Su Shi have also written poems about it.

羡青山有思，白鹤忘机。

I’m envious (Xian) of the green hills that have the serenity of one that’s deep in thought, or the white crane that has forgotten the ways of the world and has a tranquil heart. (Wangji)

Wangxian’s names are mentioned here. If you do a quick search with of line, you’ll find numerous chinese wangxian fanworks.

怅年华、不禁搔首，又天涯、弹泪送春归。

The passage of time is worrying, and I can’t help but scratch my head anxiously. My tears send Spring off towards the end of the world again.

销魂远，千山啼鴂，十里荼麋。

At this moment, the Koel sorrowful cries echoes in the mountains. The raspberry flower is blooming everywhere.

T/N: Legend has it that when the Emperor Wang Di entered seclusion and passed on, he died and his soul became a Koel.  Hence, when Spring goes and when the Koel cries out sadly, the people of Shu would say “I look forward to the emperor’s soul”, as though the Koel is sending Spring off. 

My Analysis

This poem summarises Tang Hui’s feelings. He was staying in seclusion in the West Lake Mountains, but yet he wants to return to live with others, and he yearns for his love of the Northern Song Dynasty. The first part of the poem is about what the poet is doing, and the second part’s about his envy and love for his Dynasty.

Firstly, I was struck by how said sad and how forlorn wangxian’s namesake’s line is. If we break down it down, essentially it describes someone that loves the silence of the musing mountains, and how the crane remains unbothered by the world. It’s such an apt line given that the cultivational world wangxian lived in really hurt them.

The reference of the “plum” and the “white crane” is said to be a reference to Lin Bu 林逋, the Confucian poet who planted plums and raised cranes, and didn’t marry for the rest of his life. His actions gave birth to the idiom “梅妻鹤子 to marry the plum, and raise the cranes for his son”, which means to lead a life of seclusion and attain a tranquil state of mind. (wangxian living in seclusion and living happily ever after? HAHA)

Another thing that struck me was, was this the reason why CQL put a white crane in the wangxian moment? It clearly wasn’t a key point because there’s a clip of Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo debating about the existence of the crane, of which Xiao Zhan forgot about it, and Wang Yibo insisted it was there. The crane was never in the book, and I always thought it was a mere decorative feature but now I don’t think so 🧐. Perhaps the directors were paying tribute to this poem? And is this the reason why lwj is often painted in white?

Personally, I did find it interesting though, that the c fandom would associate this poem with wangxian, because unlikely the other themes Wangxian has been associated with (Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s name respectively), this poem talks about someone who IS in seclusion, who wants to go back to society. Though yes, if you did focus on Wangxian's namesake's line (羡青山有思，白鹤忘机) in isolation, the poet is envious of those who can stay away from the ways of the world. Whereas in the other poems, and in the novel itself, it was clearly the other way around. That’s just my two cents though! Either way, it’s a really pretty poem. 😍

You can check out @fwoopersongs's alternative translation here!

[big-nerd-boi]

Kill the crown/ jttw headcanons!

Foreword: this takes place in my universe— Au— storyline whatever thing! Which is inspired by/ a sequel ( highly debatable lmao) to journey to the west! So enjoy with that!

( also I’m not finished with the books so some information maaaaybe wrong until I yknow- finish ALL FOUR VERY LONG BOOKS)

Demon run kingdoms are uncommon, but not unheard of. Most humans will casually just avoid those kingdoms even if it causes travel delays. The Kingdom of The Eastern Sun & The Crescent Moon Kingdom are the two most well known examples of an openly demonic kingdom and civilization.

The Kingdom of The Eastern Sun ( KES) is rather welcoming to human visitors, a few even being permanent residents under the Emperor’s watchful eye. Since humans are rare, they aren’t a primary food source in the kingdom compared to animals like pigs. ( it’s said that pork is surprisingly close to human, just sweeter!)

The sister kingdom, Crescent Moon Kingdom… is not so kind to human travelers.

All the spiritual primates are born from rocks. Of course the type of rock is variant from monkey to monkey, but they all go under the label of stone monkey.

Heng, the immortal baboon was “hatched” from a stone smoothed from centuries under a waterfall.

Min-Yáng, the celestial gibbon ( she prefers this to “long armed gibbon”) was hatched from limestone at the break of dawn, the auspicious light hitting her stone-egg just right after years of her stone sitting a top a hill in the middle of a field.

The six eared macaque, Luhan broke free from his mountain-rock egg during an eclipse, the sun blacked out from the sky and the world hushed. Climbing down the mountain was easy, so was finding shelter.

Luhan has narcissism.

Fun fact! Narcissism is caused by trauma!

Sun Wukong, the most infamous stone monkey of all: was born from the same rock that his home was made from, the same type that lush green forests fill, and fertile soil lays on: basalt. Filled with holes, but basalt.

Heng is the oldest stone monkey, and tries his best to act like he is very mature.

Luhan makes that very difficult.

Luhan is the youngest stone monkey.

Yue (Min-Yáng’s second eldest daughter) is a half demon. Along with all her siblings. This means that instead of having a diet like a monkey like the other primates— she and her siblings all have a demonic diet.

Yue has never eaten a human, instead eating pork or venison.

Luhan and Wukong are the only two spiritual primates who have eaten human.

Heng cannot eat meat, his stomach only able to handle vegetarian foods. ( Geladas are strictly vegetarian monkeys).

During his time in the furnace and mountain, Wukong was “purified” from eating human— allowing him to preform magic that he couldn’t otherwise do.

Luhan was purified from eating humans and cannibalism after he was brought back from the dead.

Tripitaka for my own sake is named Tang Sanzang.

He is 18 when he starts the ✨journey to the west✨

He is 32 when the journey ends.

He is a very stressed man.

HE MEETS AND HAS TO DEAL WITH WUKONG AT 18!

Wukong told him about the three ( now two) other primates and he fainted.

The idea of more monkeys like Wukong was just too much for him, especially after just dealing with Luhan beating and robbing him.

Luhan adores theater in any form. He loves preforming, telling stories and the attention of an adoring crowd. Whether villain or hero, even the love interest- he could play any role and enjoy it; drawing the crowd in.

Guanyin is a surprisingly good mentor despite technically kidnapping Red-son and that bear demon allllll the way back. / lh

Guanyin is above gender concepts, especially when she can change into literally any form: man, woman, child, probably animal. Whatever form helps a person learn the dharma, the bodhisattva will take that form.

Heng loves insects, especially beetles. He’s the kind of baboon who will pick up a random bug and show it off to his family and tell them fun facts about said bug.

Li —Yue’s youngest brother— finds this cool as heck. Like all four year olds.

Yue prefers learning about plants.

Bojing, the emperor of the Kingdom of The Eastern Sun, hates bugs. He’d much rather his brother in law keep those nasty creatures out of his palace walls.

Min-Yáng deals with spiders if they somehow make it into their room.

Red son is actually surprisingly calm, enjoying his time with Guanyin as his teacher. He even keeps his bracelets on, as a reminder of where he had started.

He still visits his parents when he can, mostly his mother.

If a Buddha is killed, they have the choice to go to nirvana or reincarnate. At the expense of having to reach enlightenment again… which can take lifetimes.

And let’s end it on that note!

A very non-ominous note, of course. I’ll be sure to drop more proper lore soon!

[devanitoland]

ghost hill / house toland lore dump

key history

the tolands were a lordly house of some strength by the time of nymeria’s conquest, some thousand years ago as one of the main allies of mors martell and princess nymeria (a shrewd move on nymeria’s part to forge an alliance with a key landing point on the sea of dorne). it is not noted whether they were orignally first men or andal in origin, but as mors' house was founded by an andal, i like to think they were andal. however, the tolands' origins have been lost to time thanks to marrying into rhoynish families, and the tolands of today are considered to be rhoynar.

the tolands successfully resisted the dragons of aegon the conqueror during the first dornish war. the lord toland at the time sent out his champion to face aegon. after aegon slew the man, he learned that the man was lord toland's mad fool, and that lord toland himself had escaped.

once a mighty house, house toland has suffered through two generations of poor leadership. devani's father was rather uninterested in the life of a ruling lord, and his wife, devani's mother, is known to overreach her position and regarded as a social climber. once he passed, lordship fell to her brother aditya, the current ruling lord, who has made a sequence of poor decisions including a feud with the jordaynes. devani's sister, pallavi, married doran uller and was later executed for her role in trying to assassinate him. aditya's current heir is devani, who has spent most of her adult life missing after running away as a teenager and has only recently returned.

devani's paternal aunt married into house manwoody and is the mother of joy manwoody and her sisters. joy's position in court gave the toland's some protection, but after her death, they are once again in a precarious situation.

castle

their ancestral seat, ghost hill, lies on the southern shore of the sea of dorne, near the broken arm.

located atop a hill, ghost hill has chalk-white walls that shine against the deep blue of the sea of dorne. there are towers at the corners of the castle, which has a great central keep.

despite the name, ghost hill is a bright, welcoming castle with beautiful architecture and overall a pleasant place to be, if you can tolerate the ruling lord and his mother. devani toland is rarely found within the walls of ghost hill, as she is one of those who cannot tolerate their company.

sigil, words and values

prior to the dragon, the toland banners displayed a ghost. in later days, the tolands would take a new banner, showing a dragon biting its own tail, with the colors green in gold in memory of the motley of their brave fool - a mockery of the targaryens’ vain attempt to take the Toland seat

there are no canon words for house toland - however, i like the idea that their words are "the spirit is stronger". the word spirit has a double meaning - both in the literal sense of the spirit of the tolands, and a reference to their ancestral seat of ghost hill.

house toland is known to value wit, trickery, creative thinking, and unconventional solutions to problems, and is incredibly proud still of their history in doing so.

climate & geography

the ghost hills region takes its name from a series of hills and mountains in the area, inspired by the eastern ghats of andhra pradesh. the hills make up the most striking features of the landscape and are shaped by several rivers that flow through the area, emptying into the sea of dorne. the castle of ghost hill is atop one of the hills.

toland lands border that of the martells to the south, and the jordaynes to the west. north east lies the broken arm of dorne, with the sea of dorne serving as their northern border. most of the land is generally fairly fertile, with small amounts of desert at the inland border where the ghost hills meet the tor.

the ghost hills sees a decent amount of rainfall and occasional monsoons, usually blown across the sea of dorne from the stormlands. clean drinking water is not scarce in this region.

flooding is not uncommon closer to the coastline, but the more arid areas nearer to the desert occasionally suffer drought, and are forced to move towards the rivers and ocean.

population

the smallfolk are mainly organised into small towns and villages that operate as communities, and are usually part of extended family structures. once a year, the communities gather in the town at the foot of the ghost hill keep in a large festival that is primarily focused on marriages between the different communities.

music, dance and the arts is important to each community, who have their own different, but related, dances and songs. artists are highly revered.

most smallfolk are illiterate, and possess no formal education. those who can read, write, and perform mathematics are usually employed as traders around the port.

those who live in the ghost hills speak their own language, which is equivalent in the real world to telugu, often as their first language with hindi as a second. the smallfolk in particular are more likely to speak only telugu. around the port town, small amounts of low valyrian is not uncommon due to the essoian visitors. devani herself is fluent in telugu, hindi and common tongue, though she picked up many more languages in her time in essos that she keeps in her back pocket.

flora & fauna

birds: jerdon’s courser, blue flycatcher, jerdon’s baza, bustard, spot-billed pelican, hoopoe, spotted owlet, crow pheasant, pied cuckoo, pitta, brahminy kite, myna, spotted eagle, vulture, whistling thrush

mammals: grey slender loris, blackbuck, civet, treeshrew, mongoose, sambar, bison, boar, muntjac, small population of leopard, dhole, hare, tufted grey langur, flying fox, macaque, smooth-coated otter, reed cat,

reptiles: geckos (golden gecko, granite rock gecko, and slender gecko), skinks, snakes (shieldtail snakes, sharma’s racer, beaked worm snake, rock python, coral snake, bamboo pit viper, king cobra), mugger crocodile, turtles (black turtle, flapshell turtle, tent turtle, softshell turtle), star tortoise, psammophilus, sitana, chameleon, monitor

amphibians: rock toad, frogs (cricket frog, bull frog, burrowing frog, tree frog, golden back frog), caecilian

fish: razorbelly minnows, south indian flying barb, channa barb, ghostfin catfish, river carp, sunstripe perch, glassfish, rasbora, mullet, threadfish, trout

flora: acacia concinna (soap pods, used to create hygiene products particularly for hair), goldenleather fern, plants in the ginger family, neem (used for medicinal purposes), mosquito fern, periwinkle, turmeric, hiptage, club moss, jasmine, mango, cobra saffron (used for medicine, fragrances, and psychedelic effects), bullet wood (fragrant, used for oral hygeine), murraya exotica, lotus, holy basil, amla, serpentine wood, sandalwood, ashoka (a sacred tree, believed to be linked to fertility), teak, bamboo, orchids

industry and economics

the ghost hills are a fertile area with a great range of flora and fauna, as well as natural mineral resources found in the mountains. this includes granite, iron, limestone and quartz, with limestone being the primary material for buildings in the region.

farming is a huge part of industry in the ghost hills, both in terms of pastoral grazing and crop growth. traditionally, the tolands have sustained economic growth by exporting crops to less fertile regions of dorne.

other notable goods produced in the region include pottery, woven baskets, items crafted from bell metal, and lumbar (primarily for construction).

due to its proxemity to the ocean, the keep of ghost hill and the town surrounding it houses a small port, though it has no ships of its own, it conducts trade through visiting ships from other regions. it was these ships that varun toland sailed on in his youth and devani toland would use to escape dorne as a teenager.

the ghost hills are economically a little backwards, and money is not generally used apart from for taxes and by the toland family. instead, a bartering system is used by the majority of the smallfolk. the notable exception is in the town at the foot of the ghost hill keep, due to its importance in trade matters. the bartering traditions means poverty does not exist in a traditional sense. most smallfolk live within extended family units, ensuring basic needs are met and cared for by their own. whilst this provides a comfortable life for most of the smallfolk, it does make moving to other areas more difficult.

government, crime, and the law

taxes may be paid with coin, or in the form of agricultural products that would then be sold on.

the line of succession is as follows: 1. aditya toland (the current ruling lord) 2. devani toland (the sister of aditya) 3. kheerat toland (the son of devani, whose existence is unknown) 4. slya manwoody (the sister of varun toland, devani and aditya's father) 5. the twin infant sons of armaan yronwood and joy manwoody (slya's grandchildren) 6. the other manwoody siblings

both varun and aditya have taken a hands-off approach to the smallfolk, allowing them to largely self-govern within their own villages and communities and remaining distant figures. in contrast, devani enjoys spending time amongst the small folk since her return, and often can be found weaving baskets, visiting their communities, taking part in their music and dance, and is generally well-liked by them.

the ghost hills have endured two generations of lax leadership from varun toland and his son, aditya. as such, crime has gone less punished in recent times, and theft, smuggling, and other acts of criminality are common. criminals are usually handled by local communities, to varying effects. mob justice is not uncommon, and punishments are often decided by the elders of the villages. more serious crimes, such as murder, may be passed along to the tolands for judgement.

martial & defence

there are a series of forts within the peaks of the ghost hills, primarily used for defence in the past, but today more commonly used as marketplaces.

soldiers of the ghost hills are part of a small land army, primarily infantrymen, numbering roughly 2500 men. primary weapons are clubs, spears, bows, and firangi swords. there are an even smaller number of cavalry men, but they are expected to provide their own horses. the army is split into six ranks. in times of need, the smallfolk are expected to volunteer, though there has historically been no punishment for not doing so.

as is dornish tradition, the people of the ghost hills favour sneaky tactics and guerrilla warfare, utilising the features of the hills and mountains in order to get the upper hand.

death and mourning

a notable custom of house toland is in their mourning practices. after a body is cremated of a family member, or other significant person, a chalk ghost is made to represent them and left in the grounds of ghost hill, open to the elements. the mourning period can only end once the ghost has eroded away. tolands of the past have been known to strategically place the ghosts depending on how they felt about the deceased - due to the shame devani's sister brought upon the family, for example, her ghost was positioned so it would constantly feel the spray of the sea of dorne, and thus was eroded within months. in contrast, devani's great-grandfather built an alcove in the walls of the castle for the ghost of his daughter, and it still stands to this day, almost a century later. the latest ghost to be installed in ghost hill is a memorial to dante uller.

[starwarsgirlie]

We Belong To Death

Hi friends! Here's the first chapter of my Viktor X Reader fic!

Chapter 2 Here ----->

The reader has female anatomy and goes by she/her pronouns. Further chapters will contain NSFW content! 

PLEASE comment what you think or what you'd like to see! I love collaborating!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters besides Persephone. I used the League of Legends lore for a large portion of this chapter's plot!

Trigger Warnings: death, war, violence, sexual themes, murder.

Chapter 1 - The Underworld

The years of the Rune War were filled with blood, loss, and pain. Runterra was where one would find blood more often than water and magic more often than blood. The arcane has always been a force that still needed to be understood. Beauty and destruction impossible to contain. A beautiful hell.

In this world of blood and magic, our story begins with a husband and wife, Mihira and Kilam. Fleeing their war-torn home, they came to a mountain known to grant those in need magical gifts at a price. Desperate in Runterra hell, Kilam helped his pregnant wife up the hill. Upon reaching the stars, everything became silent. Mihira and Kilam hung to each other in confusion. "My love, what are we to do to ask for this gift?" Mihira whispered. Looking down at his wife, Kilam shook his head in confusion before seeing her usual green eyes change to the iciest glowing blue. Kilam was thrown back with force while Mihira was lifted into the air, engulfed in the arcane. As soon as she rose she was laid down again by the power, unconscious.

Soon after this event, the two fled to Demacia, still not knowing the gift they received. Demacia, at the time, was a haven from the magical war around them. It was here where Mihira gave birth to twin girls, Kayle and Morgana. Upon giving birth, Mihira immediately felt a calling to fight in the battle and refused ever to touch her girls again. It was clear to Kilam that this was the price paid for their gift from the arcane, which was still unknown to both.

Kilam continued to try to help Mihira return to who she was. After falling pregnant with their third child, Kilam thought this would bring her back, but he was wrong. She continued to fight, and for fear of his children's safety, he fled the moment y/n was born. 

Keeping his three girls safe for the next ten years, he saw them grow. Kayle became greatly intrigued by justice and law, while Morgana became more interested in people's ability to lie and manipulate others. And then there was his youngest, y/n, or as he called you, Persephone. Your mother gave you the nickname as she laughed over how many she had killed while pregnant. You were her child of death. Despite the darkness of the name, your father always told you that just as there is beauty in life, there is beauty in death. A living thing is not living unless it experiences death. Death gives our life meaning. 

For years, they lived in peace. Mihira had not found them, and Kilam began to enjoy the life he was living until Kayle and Morgana's tenth Birthday. On that day, he got each of his girls a necklace. Kayle's was a golden sun, and Morgana's was a silver moon. Upon opening their gifts, Kayle poked at Morgana like she always did, "He got you the moon because you're dependent on me to shine." This affected Morgana greatly, making her angry and begin to scream at Kayle, "I HATE YOU! YOURE HATEFUL! BEING SISTERS WITH YOU IS A WORSE HELL THAN WITH MOTHER!" As she continued sobbing and screaming, purple smoke-like energy rose from her body and reached for Kayle. In defense, Kayle exuded the same smoke, but it was white, and so a struggle between the smoke began. Being only eight years old and unable to handle this traumatic event, you began sobbing while your dad screamed for his daughters to stop. It all became too much, and all you could do was scream. As you screamed, a wave of red smoke washed out from you, pushing Kayle and Morgana to the floor. In the stillness of the next moment, you looked around you and noticed all the plants and flowers were dead. Your father stood silently, gathering you together and putting you to bed, knowing he didn't know what to do. It was then that he realized the gift that was given to him and Mihira on that mountain.

A few weeks after the incident and after the war ended, it became clear that his children possessed the power of the arcane. In a world where magic is hated, feared, and forbidden, he knew the only thing he could do was teach you to keep it hidden. He read and searched for someone to help him until he found a Yordle named Heimerdinger. The wise Yordle understood the magic the three girls possessed but also encouraged the girls to hide it. Heimerdinger concluded that each sister drew her power from a source. Kayles was the arrogance and righteousness of those around her, and Morganas was the pain and suffering. Heimerdinger rarely got frightened of something he was researching, but that changed with you. The stealing of a living being's life force enhanced your magic. This explained the death of the flowers in the house when you were upset—despite this fear, months passed relatively peacefully... until the arrival of Mihira.

With the distraction of the war being over, she was now possessed by the will to train her daughters and raise them as soldiers of wrath and fury as she had. After all, her becoming the bloodthirsty soldier was the price she paid for the magic you and your sisters got to have. She burned down the city, looking for you and your sisters, killing anyone in her path. Only with the help of a mysterious mage was she captured and taken to the depths of Stilwater Prison. However, everyone now knew who you three were and your powers. "We live in a time where your gifts are feared; you cannot stay here any longer," your father said through tears. And before you knew it, you and your sisters were sent to different parts of Runterra and told never to speak of your past. Heimerdinger was the one to take you to Piltover. It was there where he gave you to the older woman, Granny Ray. "My girl, you are of a small age, but you must be brave; this woman here will love and look after you, so fear not. I, unfortunately, cannot stay as I would draw too much attention, so for the next ten years of your life, you are to live with Granny Ray in Zaun." "My girl, I will come get you on your 18th Birthday and take you to Piltover, where you can study whatever you want to make a life for yourself." "When can I see my father again?" you sobbed. "My sweetest child, it is best not to think of that at this time; he has much work he needs to do and told me to tell you how much you are loved." "One final thing, my sweet girl, you must change y/n. It is too well known, so what would you like to be called from now on?" "M-my dad called me Persephone." "AH! The story of the girl in the underworld, how fitting; from now on, Granny Ray and I will refer to you as Persephone, ah, or even Percy for short!"