#topland

[sakurabraches]

she's so subtle

[edens-magic-drawings]

A little doodle bcs why not :)

Caption: Even if she tried, the red lipstick was simply too strong, and the pigment would never completely fade.

Reference:

[thegaissilent]

Headcanons and details about my (mostly) book!Glinda:

She's got precognition powers, though she has no control over them. Sometimes she's disturbed by nightmares about people she doesn't even know. Most of those are about people dying.

The one time she knows what actually happened is one night when she wakes up disturbed and feels a need to light up a candle. Which, of course, is when Elphaba dies. (Canon in the book!)

Still using Ari as a fc, but unlike my main verse Glinda, her eyes are blue :3

100% ignoring the idea that she converts to Unionism by the end of the book? This pagan mun is not having any of that.

Comphet princess just like main verse <3. Of course, this varies depending on what I'm writing against my Elphies but if following canon, she would figure herself out after she parts with Elphaba and she kisses her.

She's, somehow, even more pouty than my main verse Glinda.

Still an artist! But she likes to draw/paint buildings and structures quite a lot.

She still loves flowers and birds, too, and they're also often a subject of her art. I'll add more as I remember!

[alphawhitefox]

If that ain't Glinda I don't know who it is.

where?

[bubblegown]

people think of glinda as some sort of dom top when blondie is too honed in on whether or not she looks good and graceful and effortless during sex to be able to focus on anything else

[ajdoesntknowhowtodraw]

Close up:

Elphabottom looking at Gaylinda topland's lips

Ok after drawing too many angst, I have to give my girls a happy moment too. This was in the "popular" scene where she takes off Elphaba's glasses but I made it extra... Lesbian

[pressuredrightnow]

nobody:

me: glinda UPland. UPland. shes literally born in the UPPER UPlands. her name is literally glinda topland. and thats my ted talk for why glinda is LITERALLY born a top

[insomnikat-mused]

Rate your OC traits

Thanks for the tag @ghostcouncil!

Teu'aravae "Tav"

Compassion: 6/10 Bitterness: 8/10 Happiness: 7/10 One can hold deep childhood trauma and resentment while presenting as an aloof, joy-seeking bard! Politeness: 5/10 Civil when necessary, but no more. 'Respect once lost is lost forever.' Chivalry: 4/10 I mean, they'll save you. But there will be a charge. Pride: 9/10 Honesty: 8/10 Bravery: 9/10 By the definition of: 'hands trembling in fear but rising to the occasion anyway'. Recklessness: 5/10 Ambition: 4/10 It is their experience that even the potential of ambition can get you killed. Loyalty: 2/10 The whole 'can count with one finger the people they've trusted that didn't betray them' deal. Love: 6/10 Sense of Family: 3/10 The hope is there, but just barely. All evidence lost to the unforgiving depths of the Underdark. Attractiveness: 8/10 (as would a drow with suspected sun elf lineage, exiled to the toplands) Agility: 10/10 Sex Drive: 9/10 They came to the same conclusion as Astarion on how to secure a companion's temporary loyalty, but much much sooner.

No pressure tags: @absolutehysteria, @shiningstardan, @naiatabris, @blooddancer93, @dahliawilder (who made the awesome art of my Tav!)

[imagine-too-many-books]

Percabeth coded songs I’ve listened to recently, most to least fitting:

Inkpot gods by the amazing devil

Tourniquet by zach Bryan

Francesca by Hozier

Achilles heel by toplander (it’s literally in the name - it’s their song)

It’s all coming back to me now by celene dion (just the chorus but just picture Percy belting “if I kiss you like this, if you whisper like that, it was lost long ago but it’s all coming back to me”)

[happylesbi]

Gaylinda of the upper toplands

is she…you know….

[marvelousazula]

"gaylinda topland" makes me snort every time

[elyaforelya]

_2024

3 playful collaboration w/ Sondre Topland

Sondre brought some of the Unpredictable Graphics to life in his own unique way and vision of static pictures… It’s alive!

original graphics

[variasus]

The Searcher and the Mortal Kins (Devlog n.5)

Hello hello, this time around I have two things to present, a seventh "class" and through it what kind of people inhabit this world.

So, let's start with why I'm adding another class to the rather well rounded starting roster. As I've explained, each of them have a historical link to peoples and places in the settings, and after looking back on that list I realised they represented pretty well every important stuff around the Sea of Entemar except the recently arrived Gnobs, who are just as important !

Hence, the Searcher comes along, a traditional role within Gnob society tasked with exploring the many facets of the world and sharing their discoveries with the rest of their community. As they rose from the Under-world and melded with the cultures living here, some "toplanders" have taken a liking to the searchers' philosophies and have joined this path of curiosity, forming with gnob friends new scholarly orders and archives dedicated to topics too numerous to list.

This addition in itself is also necessary in my opinion to give players the tools to inhabit the archetype of the studious seeker of knowledge, exploring the world not for riches but for lore. The Tomb Seeker could potentially fit that role too but only with old, ancient, forgotten knowledge, where I intend the Searcher to be geared towards making their own discoveries and exchanging with the living rather than the dead.

Anyways, who are these Gnobs and why is experience or knowledge so important to them that they've given thinkers a core role in their societies ? To put it simply they are this setting's goblins, gnomes, dextrous deep dwellers. Small (1 meter on average) humanoids of ape-like appearance with facial traits resembling fruit bats, they also are quite short-lived, rarely aging beyond 30/40 years (Which is why acquiring knowledge and transmitting it holds more importance amongst them). For a long time they were thought by the people of the mortal lands to be just myth (probably some searchers lost their way up tunnels here and there across the ages), but recent conflicts and natural(?) disasters have forced many of their cities to evacuate their ancestral caverns, some of this displaced population eventually following their own legends to finally arrive in a world with no ceiling and a horizon that goes beyond one's perception.

There, they met other people: the Humans, Hures, Orghus and Alfs

Human and Hure (might change the name a bit down the line) make up most of the population across the known world being evolutionary cousins and what was thought to be the only two natural sapient species until the Gnob Migration 40 years ago. While the differences between Humans and Hures are minute, if you ask most of them they will point to humans being taller and lithier, and having an easier time handling anything dextrous, with hures being broader and considered to be gifted with better health and endurance. In truth a lot of the two species have lived along for so long that they've become more and more akin.

As for the Orghu, they are an umbrella term that designs any human or hure that through magic has mutated, been altered. thus, it is hard to apply any common characteristic to them beyond the fact that most orghu inherit animalistic traits through the chaotic energies that changed them. These can be transmitted to their offsprings too and some communities sharing common family traits have developped, such as the Okar clans and their boar tusks or hides.

Alfs technically are Orghu, but their long and bloody history have set them apart from others in the mind of Entemar's inhabitants and even those beyond the Inner Sea. Originally, a cabal of "enlightened" sorcerers gathered with their families and founded a village deep in the northern forests of the region that would become the Principalities. There, they cast a spell upon themselves and their relatives that made them "superior", acquiring better senses, longer lives, sharper aesthetical features and other modifications to their forms. Thus were born the Fei. As they lived hidden far from the rest of the world eventually conflict rose amongst them and a bellicose half of their people broke off and traveled East, but not before laying waste to their once friends and dubbing themselves Altfei. Eventually, the Altfei would found the Black City of Altfein on a lost island beyond the then known frontiers of the ocean. From that place of power they then launched conquests upon conquests on the coasts of the world, claiming all the lands as theirs. The end of the Altfein Empire came a century and a half ago, after events shrouded in rumours and myths that only left handfuls of refugees seeking asylum in the lands their country once oppressed. Nowadays very few altfei truly remain in Entemar, but their descendants the alfs (a reclaiming of the derogatory "Halves" they were once labelled as) still have to reckon with the scars their ancestors left on the world. And there it is, the various physical differences between the people inhabiting my cities and lands. System-wise, I don't want them to be more than a cosmetic and narrative choice given any of them can be part of any culture (well, maybe I'll make a few racist ones as possible origins later on but for now I don't feel like it) as that's where I think most of the bonuses a specie gives in other systems should be moved (I doubt dwarves biologically know how to use a battleaxe), and thus your culture will have more of an impact on your character than how they look like. See ya next time, I'll probably talk a bit about the comology of the setting.

[fatespins]

HE LISTENS AS she explains how things are down there. There's something cold in his stomach when she describes the concoction and its Lolthic significance. It's easy to forget his companion's connection to the Spider Queen, or previous connection at least. Everyone's heard stories. It unsettles him to think about, so he stops for now.

"THEY PROBABLY SHOULD. We encounter poison quite a lot, even when it's not in our food." Memories of a toxin wracking his body with pain return, make him roll his shoulders to shed the feeling like water off a duck's back. "They just don't think of it, probably. Toplanders are more nervous about poisons than those below, I think, which doesn't help." They're softer, probably, is how Iraestra might describe them, but he leaves her to fill in that blank herself.

ARMS CROSS IDLY over his chest as she draws her knife, watching with some level of interest as she opens the mouth. "Mercenaries can't really afford to be squeamish," is his answer - he has an idea of where this might be going. "What's rivvil mean?"

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 that would not be entirely out of place in the Underdark. Rivalry, treachery, and any assassin's favored weapon: poison.

"Drow nobleborn are weaned on spider's milk nearly from birth. Despite the name, only a small portion contains actual spider's venom. Each house had their own recipe kept secret and prepared ritualistically in the name of Lolth, but a few poisons were common enough that it could be assumed any spider's milk would contain it. A quarter teaspoon for a babe, slowly increased until we could tolerate an entire cup as adults," she thinks of the milky, half-moon death draught in jeweled goblets served as if a fine wine. The strange, shivering dreams after. "I am surprised that your mercenaries up here do not follow similar practices."

Fresh bodies are preferable for certain kinds of workings. Curse-work in particular favors malice only recently extinguished. The more violent the death, the better. "Indeed I do," she confirms. From her hip she produces her sharpest dagger, a wicked piece of silver that has served her well for harvesting material. She opens the corpses' mouth with a gloved hand to expose the tongue and teeth. "Would you consider yourself rather squeamish, rivvil?"

[deliciouskeys]

Somewhere Up Above [Homecest]

If only Doppelganger had been savvy enough to roleplay Mirrorlander instead adoring!worshipful!fan cosplaying as Homelander, they’d still be alive. And gotten some.

“Like what you see?”

Homelander freezes on hearing his own voice behind him. When he finally turns, he blinks in disbelief at the sight of himself squeezed into the cheap black lingerie the real Madelyn would probably never have deigned to wear.

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t find me attractive. There’s nothing as pathetic as self-loathing.”

Homelander’s mouth is so dry he can barely get the words out. He gulps, embarrassed that his voice stutters as he says what his mirror image wants to hear. “I-I do. I like what I see.” Does he really though? He’s too afraid of what will happen if he admits that he’s somewhat repulsed by what’s probably coming next.

“Of course you do, you lonely little slut, you’ll take any love you can get, even if it’s just from another version of you.” The mirror image approaches him and Homelander strains to stay still and not step back. “Nobody else will really love you like I can, after all. Now, get down on your knees and suck me off.”

Homelander doesn’t even hesitate, drops to his knees on obedient autopilot, and pulls up the hem of the black lace teddy, hands slightly trembling. His mirror image is completely soft. He glances up and immediately regrets it, because all he sees is his own face, twisted into a cruel sneer, staring down at him.

“Do you suck at blowjobs as much as you suck at every other kind of sex?”

Homelander shakes his head vigorously, even though he’s never sucked cock before in his life, he’s bound to be bad at it, and he’s going to get an earful about how bad soon enough. It’s just his own cock at eye level, but it looks different from this perspective, unfamiliar and intimidating. Its softness is mocking him, his mirror version so skeptical of his talents that he can’t even get excited in anticipation. Homelander wishes the lingerie was long and wide enough that he could just pull it over his head. It would feel better to hide from the cold judgemental gaze above when he’s doing this.

He takes the shaft in his hand and starts stroking, craning his head down and gently sucking on the balls. At least he knows what he likes, and that’s a start. He hears his own voice moan somewhere up above but doesn’t look. When Homelander takes his mirror version’s cock in his mouth, it’s downright soothing. It’s not all that different from sucking on Madelyn’s fingers. The cock is larger, and warmer, and heavier on his tongue, of course, but it’s not bad. There’s a salty, heady flavor he’s not used to, but he closes his eyes, accepting it as his own, and just continues to suck, trying to tease the underside of the head and the slit on each pull backward.

He’s in a groove, one could even say he’s enjoying this, but he’s snapped out of his rhythm and can’t avoid glancing up when his mirror image brushes his hair back and traces a thumb along his eyebrow.

“Look at yourself. Ready to suck dick at the drop of a hat. That’s all you’re ever going to be, at this rate. Just talent. A whore. You’d probably suck Stan Edgar off if he asked you to.”

Homelander starts shaking his head before realizing he’s going to need to let the dick in his mouth drop out to protest and say “No, only you.”

His mirror image shakes his head and Homelander can’t stand the look of disappointment in his own eyes. “You’re not a good liar either. You’ve got no spine, nothing but a pretty face going in your favor. A pretty face Stan Edgar can offer every senator who wants to jizz on it or sit on it, just so Vought gets the political moves they want.”

His mirror image starts jacking off at a quick pace. Homelander doesn’t have time or presence of mind to decide to move away before jets of come get painted across his eyes, cheekbones, lips. Wiping it away gives him the brief opportunity to discreetly get rid of tears that started to form before his mirror image notices that he’s crying.

“Would you let me fuck you if I asked?” his mirror image asks.

Homelander shrugs, and moves his head in a way that’s noncommittal between a nod and a negative headshake. He doesn’t know what the right answer is anymore.

“Would you let anyone else fuck you?” This question is easier to answer and Homelander decisively shakes his head.

“Then why do you let Vought make Stormfront their new golden girl? Why aren’t you figuring out a way to get rid of her?”

“I am,” Homelander says, dismayed that it’s very obvious that he’s crying from the way his voice shakes. “I’m just thinking about how to go about it.”

“Glad to hear, sport.” His mirror image cradles his jaw, tilting his face upward from the downward angle Homelander keeps wanting to assume. “You’ve still got cum in your hair— don’t forget to wash it out before anyone else sees you.”

[wally-b-feed]

fire topland spot