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reasonsforhope · 4 months

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"Discarded shells from restaurants and hotels are being used to restore damaged oyster ecosystems, promote biodiversity and lower pollution in the city’s bays...

Nestled in between the South China Sea and the Pearl River Delta, Hong Kong has been seen historically as an oyster hotspot. “They have been supporting our livelihood since ancient times,” says Anniqa Law Chung-kiu, a project manager at the Nature Conservancy (TNC) in Hong Kong. “Both oysters and their shells are treasures to humans.”

Over the past five decades, however, the city’s sprawling urban development, water pollution, as well as the over-harvesting and frequent seafloor dredging by the lime industry – which uses the crushed shells to make construction material – have destroyed Hong Kong’s oyster habitats and made the waters less hospitable for biodiversity.

The more oyster colonies falter, the worse the problem gets: oysters are filter feeders and purify water by gobbling up impurities. Just one Hong Kong oyster can filter up to 200 litres of water a day, more than any other known oyster species. But decades of rapid industrialisation have largely halted their water-purifying services.

The depletion of Hong Kong’s natural oyster reefs also affects the ability of local farmers to sustainably cultivate their oysters in a healthy environment, denting the reputation of the city’s 700-year oyster farming tradition, designated by Unesco as an “intangible cultural heritage”.

Inhabitants of the coast feel abandoned, says Ken Cheng Wai-kwan, the community leader of Ha Pak Nai on Hong Kong’s Deep Bay, facing the commercial city of Shenzhen in China. “This place is forgotten,” Cheng says. “Oysters have been rooted here for over 400 years. I ask the question: do we want to lose it, or not?”

A group of activists and scientists are taking up the challenge by collecting discarded oyster shells and recycling them to rebuild some of the reefs that have been destroyed and forgotten in the hope the oysters may make a comeback. They’ve selected locations around the island where data they’ve collected suggests ecosystems still have the potential to be rebooted, and there are still enough oyster larvae to recolonise and repopulate reefs. Ideally, this will have a positive effect on local biodiversity as a whole, and farming communities.

Farmers from Ha Pak Nai were among the first to hand over their discarded shells to the TNC team for recycling. Law’s team works with eight oyster farmers from Deep Bay to recycle up to 10 tonnes of shells every year [over 22,000 pounds]. They collect an average of 870kg every week [over 1,900 pounds] from 12 hotels, supermarkets, clubhouses and seafood restaurants in the city, including some of its most fashionable establishments. About 80 tonnes of shells [over 176,000 pounds] have been recycled since the project began in 2020.

Restaurants will soon be further incentivised to recycle the shells when Hong Kong introduces a new fee for waste removal – something that is routine in many countries, but only became law in Hong Kong in July and remains controversial...

Preliminary data shows some of the restored reefs have started to increase the levels of biodiversity, but more research is needed to determine to what extent they are contributing to the filtering of the water, says Law.

Scientists from the City University of Hong Kong are also looking to use oyster shells to increase biodiversity on the city’s concrete seawalls. They hope to provide tiny, wet shelter spots around the seawall in which organisms can find refuge during low tide.

“It’s a form of soft engineering, like a nature-based solution,” says Charlene Lai, a research assistant on the team."

-via The Guardian, December 22, 2023

#oyster #oyster farming #sea shells #seafood #hong kong #ecosystem restoration #biodiversity #ecosystem #water pollution #clean water #cultural heritage #marine life #marine animals #marine science #good news #hope

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astralnymphh · 24 days

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before the flora.

knight!ellie x princess!reader teaser. beginning is essentially just lore. bonus excerpt with ellie and princess interaction below the sketch. wrote the intro in january. no warnings tbh. illustration by @trackinglessons :P READ THIS . PALESTINE MASTERPOST

When the universe was born, there was only fire; a slowly waning blaze. And so hence when death begins to unfurl its low, groaning bloom— there will only be ice.

Yet the heavens and earth are nay alike, as death— and life, are interwoven by the timeless nuptial that is humans, and Mother Nature. Cordial and tepid heartbeats meet with her frigid and frightening marrow this season. Flakes are falling, a howl swells in the wind, and hearths stay an undying tongue of flame in the province of Istenad. Isle of riches and hedonism gone rampant amongst those who proved meritful of a conversation spat over gilded chalices. Or those who wiped a famished tongue stroke over the sole of His Majesty— The King's tan leather boots in entreat, declaring the hide a tenfold more gullet–watering than their stale, daily spare of bread. Where high life reins, low life is there to scrub their steeds.

The wintry pearlescent tundra fringing around uncharted woodlands hums your name— it carries by gale, an airy reed of vowels pulled through your ears.

Tut, tut, tut, the pecking of bark.

Everything seems to resound much heavier over the windows thick limestone sill. Woodwinds, the sough of pine boughs— a chorus wafted. Woodpeckers, they beat rigid timber with their sonnets of calling. The echoed tut starts to sound awfully kindred to a beckoning call of your name. And at daybreak, when the tangerine sun dips its head under the coast, you feel a magnetic lull to traverse your truest passions and slip away into the night, arctic chilled steel in hand. The quantity of hay sticking beneath your shoes collected by skittering across the night–doused thoroughfare was well enough to concern your maids on duty to dress you, brows fuddled at the streaming of straw near your door come morning.

Loop of your knuckles, bend of your wrist, a hand flexed on the hilt of a meticulously poached sword. A swing 'round your waist, a cold hale grip the air could taste, fighting off many mythic brutes of moonlight, however only conceived where dreams are airtight. The mind, it plays. The play it perceives, a viewing spread like tawny butter. Ghouls and ghastlies encircle a quaint pond, chanting away in cryptic grumbles and beastly bumbles, enraged with their slobber frothing at the fangs you tore from their sockets— deeper than artless, juxtaposed to the blinding ruby reds and dyed paper sunflowers of the theater. Your mind’s play felt real.

Unfortunate to your heart, dreams will stay dreams.

Nary a princess was meant to tune into melee, especially at your courting age. Nevertheless, your psyche has spurned from what a maiden is expected of and is completely in a haven of your own structure, your signature sanctuary.

In the farmsteads, a forthcoming soldier harvests not just crop— but dexterity. Derived and nurtured in the faraway prairie village of Dunwich, where the fertile seasons prove flaxen of corn and the trickling sweat of every farmhand turns to gold. Any newborn granted to this quaint village is fated to form calloused hands with labor written in their palm lines as time unfolds. In their— well, her— adolescent years, the yearning for practices of gallantry in knighthood swiveled her sights to the colossal stone castle way.. way far away. Sprouting beyond the earth line, far as the eye can see.

So, she learned, she trained, she slept, partaking in a ranged cycle taught by her ruthlessly departed father: Sir Joel. Reprisal became her nemesis; never able to rend the barrier of hesitation and cleanse her shut eyes of revolting imagery. The horseman of death was not omitting the trauma of this hazel-haired soldier. A weight so burdensome, her speckled skin remembers the tales of every scar clawed into it. Like how the lips of a bard cling to an everlasting ballad.

Every knight knew well to exile any lingering ties to the past. It's been years since he passed, she understands that. Though, the heart never lies, and certainly never covets forgetting.

Ambitions stemming from legions of knights in waiting have fallen short, submerging within the moat of the castle and sinking deep into the catacombs with no elegy sung. An allegory for dreams long since vanished. A domain so valued longs for those biding life with rigid bones, such as she. Tempered by the hardships, endured like metal meeting the blacksmith's chisel.

A vividness to her movements, flowing like a river. For it is water that soothes the most cosmic fires, carves veins into the earth's soil, descends from the heavens above and proves iron soluble. A knight so pinpoint and poised like a painter, yet so daring and baneful like a warrior of evenfall. An artisan of her craft, this knight-to-be is. Born to thrive in matters regarding protection of their kingdom and its nobility. By the sheer tenacity of her skill, she will excel. From the self–instructed lessons in a verdant pasture, basked by undying light in her hometown— to the ordained priming within the royal court.

They were forged to be dutiful.

You are a daughter of the illustrious King, Sagard, and swan–grace queen, Sagard— maiden name Adela, and sister of your highly revered and cherished kin, Prudence. Subsequent to her fabled rise, was your fall. A pratfall you plainly turned a serene ear from, for you foresaw its coming. Clandestine adventures and lollygagging in the marketplace earned you right in the clasp of consequences. You knew that, knowing it kept you on the balls of your toes before you'd be caught suiting into an act more repugnant— be it, no.. befogging yourself in a peasant boys' dire–in–muck rags, merely to play "boy" games as a young one?

Sacrilege!

Prudence was there, at every occasion, scolding with her youthful finger at the palace fore, sucking her fingertip wet of spit and dragging a stroke over your soot–strewn cheek, just before scuttling the halls in search of father, cawing, “Father, Father! My sisters become a boy again!” until it rang his fucking ears to a pulse. Hmph, father even countered his own remark of squawk, pouring through the walls, “Hah! The second son I wish I reared! Tell me, what peasants skin does she clad: butcher's boy, or of the farmer?”

Rebuking the role of royalty isn't your entire bastion of vengeance. You purely long for a world of your own color. Your self-brewn arcadia of art. In a concise phrase, desire for sovereignty. And your family chastised you curtly for every scant display of free will, short of the Queen, she is fair.

Daughter of the King, Princess of the thicket. You retain your fortunes. Modestly.

“Why don't you resemble your sister more?”

A ruby crested box designed by the best of goldsmiths is lodged at the margin of your beds footboard, safekeeping of your esteemed regalia. You possess a bedazzled amassing of circlets, veils, brocade and velvet tunics of long lengths within this box. But do any of them revel in the blessing of being worn on regal skin? Never. You opted for garbs of less gilding and jewels, so that you might taint it with whatever adventures mold under the ribbing of your foot. That shit offended your skin with its indelicacy of forgetting a human will don its fabric golds and woven jewels.

Even— court gatherings. You don the likeness of simplicity and temperate elegance. This morning's virginal aurora, a broach of light swoll from the windows arch, to the footing of your bed, made the wake of your eyes begin upon a lighting behind sheer skin. Your box of regalia shone in that incandescence momentarily. It danced, fleeter than you, irkingly so. You had to squint whilst flipping the clasps and hauling the heavy lid slanted against your bed, or else you may be heaven–blinded. “Every inch of Princess,” you intoned in quietude at the sight of glamored fabrics, “—whom I shant mirror.” and reached for the homelier fabrics, scratch of cobalt-blue linen delight brushing under your prints, you grasped your reserve tight.

“I was not made aware that there is a village wedding to be, dear sister— from what river does this dress of rags hail from?”

“It is not a brides dress, nor rags, leave me Prud—”

Prudence had blocked the shut of your chamber door with her hand flattened, pursuing, “You glum your gems. Rotting in that chest, tasting no light, no glory.”

You kept your lips thickly sown shut, casting dimly eyes to the ground.

“Shall I send for the steward so he may sell—”

“No need.”

“Hmm, most stubborn, are we? Then I—”

“I am least stubborn,” you wedged your fingers beneath her palm, prying the door loose, “—it is you, who strays your own counsel, unmoving as a mountain.” ending with the trudging shut of your door, ceasing in silence.

[++ bonus excerpt from act 2, scene 1]

“Uh–huh..” she draws out. Legato; a sarcastic reply, and wipes her tongue through the press of her lips together, “This far out? You must rebel quite often to have made a friend, I bet?” she tilts her head, a bit playful.

“You bet well— a lot, I assume?”

Cannily, she winks, “Indeed I do.” and aligns her face onward. Gesturing to her horse's rump a second— third? Eh, whatever time— she jerks her brow with a head cock back, “Hop on, I'll take you there.”

Both brows fall, and you flinch bemused, “Wh– uh,” as you hem and haw for words, grating a stutter, “But not a moment ago you spoke of the roads recent perils—”

“Surely it's not far?” she spoke presumptuously, “I mean, you've come this far, My Lady. Nobody would travel the woods past sunset, besides you it seems.” now a matter–of–fact vocal barricade that shoves itself into your ears and winds the cogs to think cleverly.

You shan't know my transgressions, sweet Knight. You may talk.

Trust is sparse as a puddle marched in.

“‘Tis but a mile out. Bravo on your convincing, Williams.” you wry and scoff.

“Can't fumble that name, huh?”

“I would not want to dishonor your knighthood.”

“You honor me with your coincidental presence, Princess.”

“Honor in your mind.”

"Hmph," her breathy chuckle, a sweetness you luckily caught with ears even numbed by the snowsquall. Do not blush. Do not smile. Fuck. Guess you'll be visiting Malina after all, the gale of a displeased sigh icing your lips over as you approach that dangling stirrup.

#౨ৎ. born of flora and fauna #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #knight!ellie #knight!ellie x princess!reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams au #ellie williams concept

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stagkingswife · 2 months

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Take Notes Like Stag Part 2: Unrecorded Entity Note Taking Exercise

Part 1: Spirit Encounters Part 3: Spell "Lab Notes" The early stages of developing a relationship with an unrecorded entity can be frustrating and confusing for many people. The most commonly recommended first steps for getting to know a new entity are research and reading the entities myths and those don’t apply to a completely unrecorded entity and only help so far for an entity whose general type may be recorded in myth and folklore, but not them in specific. My general advice for getting to know an unrecorded entity of any kind is to take it slow and get to know them the same way you would get to know a new person in your life. Ask them about themselves every time you communicate with them, and keep track of each encounter using the format in part 1 - pay attention to themes, symbols, imagery, anything that you notice starts to repeat across multiple encounters. Once you feel like something might be a defining feature or factor of the entity, something fixed that you’re sure of, make note of it and you can then run this exercise. For this exercise you’ll need a few sheets of paper, a writing implement, the information you’ve been gathering, and a form of divination. Yes/no forms of divination is fine for this, but something with more nuance is preferred and will give you more detailed answers in later steps.

Review your existing notes on this entity and find a defining feature of the entity, this can be something that’s been repeated often enough in your notes on your earlier encounters to become a pattern, or something that’s happened less often but was experienced very strongly. You’re the judge in this step of what is important enough to single out for this exercise, you can always do it again with something else if one iteration of it doesn’t prove fruitful.

Get your paper and writing tool and write your feature in the center of the page. Then create a brainstorming web of free associations with anything and everything that comes to mind springing from the starting point. Add as many spokes to the web and layers to each spoke as you can think of and fit.

There are no wrong answers in this step - this isn’t you telling the entity they are associated with any of the things in the web, you’re making a list of things to ask them about.

(If you’ve never made or heard of a brainstorming web before here’s a link to a template)

Then go through each item on the web with your divination tool for confirmation or denial from the entity of the association. -- Yes/No divination can give you a yay/nay on an association, “Yes, this is associated with me” or “No, this is not associated with me.” But a more nuanced form of divination can unlock ones you didn’t think of with “no, but…” or “yes, and…” type answers. For instance if you started with the center word of “harvest” because you had the indication that the entity was associated with the harvest and from there you branched out to “grain.” You used your tarot cards to confirm “grain” and you pull the Three of Cups, which is a very harvest-y card so you could take that as a yes, but the guide book for your deck specifically mentions fruits and vegetables instead of grains. You can then follow up on fruits and vegetables vs grains to see if the entity strongly favors one over the other.

Record your results in your ongoing notes for this entity. Remember:

An example: When I was working on Returning my pantheon of unrecorded entities, The Forgotten Ones, I would get to know an entity organically through divination conversation, dreams, Otherworldly visits, etc. for maybe a few months before I had enough fixed points of data that I thought it was was worth going through this exercise. Then I would take an afternoon or an evening and run it multiple times for each data point I had, once through for a symbol that had appeared multiple times, once for a theme that the entity consistently used, once for an animal that they had shown a preference for, once for a flower they favored for offerings, etc. I like to do this exercise in a trance, to add a little oomph to what is basically word association, but that’s not strictly necessary. My goddess Brona, when I started working on her one of the few things I knew about her was that she was an entity that existed in the in betweens. Because she was so strongly liminal, so intrinsically neither here nor there I had trouble pin down more details on her even as I became very close to her. So I ran this exercise on the word “liminal” before I had gathered much else for her. Here is a sample of that map for her, that I just made for this post, so it’s all things that I know are associated with her - I can’t find my original, and at this point it’s hard to think of incorrect examples.

#witchcraft #pagan #the returning #spirit work #witchblr #paganblr #unrecorded gods #unrecorded entity #grimoire

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twitter-bores-me-to-death · 2 days

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Blue Revenge arc, a turning point in Ciel and Lau's relationship? A theory.

This is a follow-up to my analysis of chapter 212

Tl;dr Aboard the train, Ciel and Sebastian are being watched. Although well aware of the situation they're in, both engage in a leisurely discussion about their top secret plan for all to listen, while sipping tea.

I have been thinking... If Scotland Yard is listening in to Ciel and Sebastian's little chat, doesn't them mentioning Lau being directly involved in their operation plus potentially trying to smuggle some advanced technology to China, essentially amount to throwing him under the bus?

I believe an arrest warrant was issued for the sevants already (Finny was making the front page of The Times alongside Ciel and Seb), so mentioning them offhandedly is kind of inconsequential at this point.

Lau, however, he's been hiding our crew for a few weeks yet the police didn't knock on his door, meaning he wasn't that high on their list of suspects.

Looking at the way Ciel speaks about his relationship with Lau, it is a purely buisiness-based, mutually beneficial one. He doesn't believe he was done any favours for free and Lau himself did say he was expecting the debt to be payed with interest.

O!Ciel is currently embroiled in a mass murder, blood harvesting scandal. If the police catch wind of Lau, one of his accomplices, effectively acquiring advanced medial tech shipped for China, wouldn't that add more allegations against o!Ciel? He could be charged with treason, to top it off. Lau is obviously not paying any mind to his actions' repercussions on o!Ciel's already muddied reputation. He could even be planning to flee England altogether if everything goes smoothly.

and Ciel, of course, is aware of that.

Which is why, if you look closely at Ciel and Sebastian's discussion, the most they do in regards to the other servants is drop their names and some personal trivia. Nothing about their missions or whereabouts.

In contrast to that:

-Ciel spared no effort exposing Lau's ties to the mafia, his location, his goals AND his motivations. Not only that but Sebastian backed him up, saying that there was no doubt about his operation's success... They are basically urging, nay, *begging* the police to go to Athena Sanatorium to thwart Lau's schemes, be it by getting him arrested or simply having the Yard sieze the medical equipment (and the miracle healer?) before he gets his hands on it.

Ciel and Lau are playing 4D chess and unfortunately for Lau, Ciel is three steps ahead of him. He refuses to compromise and is ready to cut Lau off the second he's served his purpose, aka dismantling the blood collecting facility.

Now, the question is: What will become of Bard in all of this? I don't know. I doubt Ciel informed him of his plans but I am sure he'll come back to retrieve him if he ever gets caught. Maybe Bard is sharp enough to sniff out Ciel's plot and retreat in time.

In conclusion: Could we possibly be witnessing Lau's villain origin story? If he connects the dots and manages to slip through the fingers of justice, he'll certainly try to get back at our earl. Which will unavoidably lead to an epic confrontation not unsimilar to that of season 1 of the anime!

(Yes, I believe that for better or worse, the manga will follow the main plot points of the anime...)

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #Lau #I noticed Ciel bringing up the Sanatorium out of nowhere and my brain started ticking lmao #I should be studying

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dreaming-medium · 6 months

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Animals Without Direction

Chapter Three - Red and Gold Throw Pillows

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Masterlist

Is this a prison sentence? No, if it was a prison sentence, you would be in a cell, bound and chained.

If it was a prison sentence, you wouldn’t have had the ropes removed from your wrists to shake hands with Bang Chan, Jarl of Miroh.

If it was a prison sentence, you wouldn’t be being led throughout the keep by the Jarl’s squire to your room.

And if it was a prison sentence, you most certainly would not be thinking about if you were allowed access to the collection of books that decorate every shelf in the building.

“Miroh is pleasant this time of year,” Jeongin’s voice brings you out of your head. “The Harvest Festival is in a few weeks.”

Erbus had only two festivals: one for the Summer Solstice and one for the Winter Solstice. Even then, the celebrations were scarce.

Based on what your mother used to tell you, the celebrations used to be poem worthy. People would dance in the streets, food covered every inch of the tables, songs would be sung for the entire night and into the next morning.

Not anymore. Now they were merely a formality. Some shopkeepers would set up their wares outside the store. A few taverns would serve a special dish, perhaps charge half price for ale.

Once Elves were banished, everything took a turn for the worst in Erbus.

“I have never heard of The Harvest Festival.” You answered Jeongin. You might as well attempt to be civil with him; you still feel bad for that nasty kick to the stomach.

Also, if this is your new life, may as well make friends.

Jeongin looked over at you surprised, “Really? I thought all kingdoms on the continent celebrated The Harvest Festival.”

“Nay, not in Erbus.”

Jeongin nodded, “Do you enjoy celebrations?”

You thought for a moment, keeping your eyes in front of you to watch where you were walking. “I do, I enjoy them very much.”

“Then you will love The Harvest Festival.”

A small smile creeps over your face. “I trust your word then.”

After climbing a set of steps, Jeongin takes you down a hallway with doors lining the walls.

“This is where higher level positions of the court sleep. Lord Minho, Felix, and Sir Changbin’s rooms are here as well.”

Looking at each door, they all looked the same. Except for one door that had a floral wreath on the front of it. Orange and purple flowers blooming on the ring.

“Is that Felix’s room?”

“Aye, perceptive, my Lady.”

“Oh,” you scoff, “I am no Lady. Please refer to me casually.”

Jeongin smiles and nods. When you look at him, you see the little dimples in his cheeks and it makes your heart melt. He looks so boyish when he smiles.

“Here we are then.” He says, opening one of the doors. The door directly next to Felix’s.

“I am to sleep up here?” You asked incredulously.

Jeongin blinked at you, “You are the Jarl’s mercenary, of course.”

He said it like it was the most obvious statement ever.

Truly, you were expecting to be put into a shared room littered with cots and one chest to put your belongings. Maybe if you were lucky there would be a divider between beds for some privacy.

“I…” your voice got caught in your throat, “I have my own room?”

Jeongin just stares at you as if you have three heads. His hand is still on the doorknob, keeping the door open.

“Yes, Y/N.” He smiles, it reaches his eyes, “You have your own room.”

Finally, you look away from him and into the room. The sun is setting, bathing the space in a brilliant orange and pink light. From your position in the hallway, you’re only able to see the foot of the bed and straight to the grand window on the opposite wall from the door.

It overlooked the heart of Miroh’s capital. In front of the window there was a cushioned bench tucked against it, creating a perfect nook to sit in. Various throw blankets draped over the red pillows.

Jeongin watched your face with a hint of his own amusement before stepping into the room and motioning for you to follow him.

Slowly, you let your feet bring you inside. It’s already warm, but not in an uncomfortable way. In a ‘blanket wrapped around your shoulders’ way.

That warmth was coming from the small fireplace inside the wall opposite the bed.

The large bed sat against the left wall, jutting out into the room. A large, fabric canopy covered the mattress. You had seen drawings of beds like this in books before. Usually princesses slept upon them.

The softest of linens covered the mattress with at least eight pillows on top of it. At the foot of the bed was a large wooden chest, a circular rug underneath it.

On the other side of the bed, to the left of the window, was a vanity. A plush stool tucked underneath it.

Reds and golds decorated every cloth in the room in a regal manor.

Your feet carried you towards the bed, fingers reaching down and running over the blankets. It’s so soft you could cry.

On either side of the fireplace were two large bookcases. The shelves were scarce, which, to you, meant endless possibilities. A wardrobe against the wall next to the door.

The flames in the hearth lick up the walls and crackle in a comforting manor.

Is this truly Miroh? This is the same Miroh that you were warned about?

Back when you were a child, when you would play pretend with the other kids, the evil monsters were always from Miroh.

“I never had my own bedroom before.” You whisper quietly, keeping your hand on the blankets. “Even as a youngling, the house my family lived in had one room. There was one table, one cooking spit, and one bed.”

Jeongin stands by the door, his lips press together in a thin line as if he doesn’t know what to say. He only watches you move around with a sympathetic look to him.

“Up until today, I slept on a bedroll every night, the night sky was my ceiling. Most summers I would save my coin so that I may pay for a room in the inn on those blustering winter nights where I just couldn’t take the cold.”

Sitting down on the side of the bed, you let yourself feel the softness underneath your body.

Every night, you’ll get to sleep on this bed every single night.

Your fingers glide over the fabric, it feels so luxurious and divine. The pillows look so soft.

“Well,” Jeongin grabs your attention, “I will leave you to decompress. I believe you’ve had a long day.”

The joke pushes a laugh from your chest.

“If you are looking to train at all, you could always join us on the training grounds tomorrow. The guards and soldiers all train together at first light.”

“You train with the guards?”

“Aye, even a Jarl’s squire needs to practice his sword arm.”

You smile at him, “I’ll consider it.” There’s a pause. “I apologize for the kick, Jeongin.” You apologize bashfully.

The squire simply laughs, it sounds so genuine. “No need, really. If anything, I should be appealing to you to teach me some of your abilities.”

“If I decide to show my face on the training grounds, I’ll practice with you as my apology.”

Jeongin smiles back at you and nods. “I’m holding you to that.” He laughs, “I will leave you to it then. If you ever need to find me, my quarters are down by the armory.”

You watch him turn to leave before a thought comes to your head. “Oh, Jeongin!” You catch his attention, he whips around to look at you. “Do– ah– are we able to get food somewhere?”

He chuckles, “The kitchens are always open. Help yourself.”

You nod a thank you and he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him.

There’s a few moments where you sit there, listening to Jeongin’s footsteps fade away.

Is this real? Are you going to wake up any second now and you’re going to be chained to a torture table to be drawn and quartered?

Quickly, you reach over and pinch your arm.

No, this is real. The small sting of pain fades almost immediately.

Your room. This is your room.

Your body falls backwards onto the bed and your hands cover your face. A bright smile stretching over your lips no matter how much you try to stop yourself. Bubbling laughter comes from your chest and you cover your mouth to stop it.

How is this even possible?

The plushness of the mattress keeps you there for an undetermined amount of time. It’s like the furniture came with invisible arms, keeping you wrapped up in its tight embrace. It’s the comfiest thing you’ve ever laid on.

The sunlight in your room begins to shift and darken as the day passes. You simply lay there with your eyes closed. Not quite sleeping, but also not quite awake.

Three quick knocks at your door brings you out of your dream-like state.

Slowly, you stand up and make your way towards the door. Who could that be?

When you pull open the door, you peak outside warily and you’re met with with a ray of sunshine.

Felix’s smile immediately brings the sun back into your room and you open the door a bit wider to greet him.

“Y/N,” he smiles even brighter, “I believe I promised you the safe return of your belongings.”

When you look down, you notice a bundle of armor with a sword on top. A small sigh of relief comes out as you grab everything from him.

“Thank you very much, Felix.”

“It is no trouble at all. I am relived to see you in front of me, I have to say.”

“Oh?” You ask, turning around. You walk back into your room, leaving the door open for Felix to come in. The cleric follows after you, but sticks close to the door.

“Aye, some part of me worried that you would not take kindly to the Jarl’s offer.” He admits.

“It is not like I had a choice,” you mumble, setting your armor down on top of the chest. “It was either take the deal or be tried and hung.”

Felix makes a noise that he agrees with you, a small laugh coming after it.

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you as you take your sword in your hands, pulling it from its sheath slightly to inspect it.

Sliding the sword back in, you lean it against your bed.

“Y/N.” Felix’s voice catches your attention.

Without turning to look at him, you answer, “Yes, Felix?”

“Are you certain you took a tonic?”

Your heart thuds against your chest, a chill ripping through your arms. But you don’t show any sort of reaction, you take it in stride.

“Quite. I had picked it up from an alchemist a few weeks ago. It proved quite useful, no?”

“It is just…” When Felix trails off, that’s when you choose to look at him. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, eyes watching the fire dance. “In my years of study, I have never seen a regenerative tonic have effects longer than an hour. If you were to have taken it before-“ he cuts himself off, sighing and finally looking back at you.

Those blue eyes. It looks like they see right through you. It’s a miracle you don’t begin squirming.

“Do you remember which alchemist you purchased it from? Perhaps I can study it?”

Quickly, you shook your head. “I’m afraid I do not. They were a traveling merchant I met on the roads of Erbus.”

The lies fell through your teeth too easily. This was more than lying, though, it was self preservation.

Felix stares at you for a long moment, an emotion flickers behind his eyes briefly, his eyebrows twitched and his lip quivered.

“I see. I fear it may be hard to obtain this tonic again, then. You see, I never travel to Erbus, I go out of my way not to.”

Your eyebrows pull together and your body turns towards his. “Felix?”

“Have a great night, Y/N.”

Without another word, Felix turns on a heel and quickly walks out of your room, closing the door behind him.

“That was… odd…” you whisper to yourself, staring at the door. ----------------------------------------------

You waited until the moon was in the sky for at least 4 hours before venturing out of your room to find the kitchens. If you waited any longer, your stomach may have eaten itself.

The only problem was that you had absolutely no idea where you were going. Every single hallway in this keep looked identical.

Sconces with lit candles sat between windows that allowed moonlight to stream in. Deep red curtains hung on either side of each window.

Occasionally you would see a small table with two chairs on either side, a candle or a bundle of flowers would be on top.

And of course, shelves upon shelves of books.

Most of the titles you had never even heard of. Some were in different languages and others appeared to be sold old as if they were stolen from tombs of the ancient.

You were stopped in front of one of the many windows, looking outside to what looked like the gardens.

Even at night, some of them seemed to glow. Perhaps Felix had some part of that, they looked like the flowers that hung in the healing ward.

A large stone fountain sat in the middle of a light cobblestone path, lined with beautiful rose bushes. The flowers were no longer in bloom, but you were able to identify them, even from this distance.

When you turned on your heel to leave, you accidentally smacked right into a body. A startled yelp leaving your lips.

“By The Six, I apologize. I usually have my bearings.” You say quickly, looking at who you ran into. His hands hot shot out to grab your arms to keep you steady.

He was tall, dressed in the same black leather armor that Minho was wearing earlier. Straighter brown hair hung over his forehead and stopped right above a sharp set of eyes. His lips were pulled in a straight line.

“You must be the mercenary then.” His voice is low, and if you’re being honest, much softer than you were expecting.

With the way his eyes track even the smallest movement you make, you expected his voice to be harsh.

“I am. I hope what you’ve heard is not too cruel.”

He takes his hands away, but you can still feel the warmth of where he grabbed them.

“What I heard is that an outsider came into Miroh, slaughtered four men in an extraordinary fashion, and was then offered a job.”

“I—“ you open your mouth to defend yourself but he cuts you off again.

“I must say, I could not wait to see you for myself. It is not every day we have such excitement within the keep, nonetheless receive a new court member.” A smirk crosses his face and your mouth snaps shut. “My position is similar to yours, except when the Jarl sends me on jobs, no one knows about it.”

“A rogue, then?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. Your arms come up and cross over your chest.

“Aye, you may call it that.”

“You and I are two sides of the same coin then.” A smirk on your face mirrors his for a moment. His sneaky, playful nature seems to have rubbed off on you rather quickly.

“It seems that way.”

The two of you study each other for a moment.

“You have a name?” You ask.

“Seungmin.”

“Can you do me a favor, Seungmin?” His response to you is a lift of the brow. “Can you please show me where the kitchens are in this maze of a castle.”

A soft chuckle comes from his chest and the corners of his lips twitch. “Aye, I can do that.”

Without another word, Seungmin turns on his heel and walks in another direction. “Let’s go, Y/N.” ----------------------------------------------

“Erbus? I do not see why you were so adamant on returning there.” Seungmin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He was leaning against one of the countertops in the kitchens.

The staff went to sleep hours ago, leaving the ingredients to you. Instead of actually making something, you chose to sample some of the bread and cheese that was available.

“Perhaps it is not the best, but it is where I was born and raised.” you answered, taking a bite out of the loaf of bread in your hand.

Seungmin was holding the other half in his. He took a bite. “I have heard naught but cruelty and stories of woe from Erbus.”

“I have only heard the same of Miroh. My father used to tell me that the former Jarl was going to come get me during the night if I did not finish my chores.”

The rogue laughs under his breath. “We had similar stories about Erbus. As a youngling I was told that one of the villages was constantly bathed in flame.”

You bite your bread, “We do,” you tease, “it is awfully hot there this time of year.” The quick joke falls from your lips and is well received by the rogue, who lets out another easy chuckle.

“Are you always awake this late Seungmin?”

“Nay, I was departing for an assignment when I ran into you.”

Your jaw falls open, a bit shocked at his statement. “I apologize, I did not mean to distract you.”

He held up his hand to stop your rambling.

“It is quite alright, a quick detour to the kitchens will not cause my quest to fail.”

You let out a small breath before taking another bite of your bread. “Are you able to tell me what your mission is?”

Seungmin only smiles, “Of course not, silly mercenary. I would not even want to tell you and bore you with all the details.”

He pushes his weight off the counter and walks towards the door, passing you on the way out. Seungmin’s shoulder brushes lightly against yours as he passes you. “I trust you can find your way back to your chambers?”

“Probably not, but I will find it eventually.”

“Have a great night, Y/N. Speak soon.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you to your own thoughts once more. Every time you enter a new part of the keep, you’re met with a new face.

With the bread now in your stomach, you turn and fill a mug with some fresh water and take a long sip.

It’s your first night in Miroh. The first night of many to come it seems. When do you suppose that the Jarl will give you your first mission? What sort of quests is he going to send you out on anyway?

He’s the Jarl of the entire hold, what would he need you for that he cannot send out guards?

It wasn’t until you finished the mug of water that you realized how thirsty you were. When was the last time you had a sip of water? Most likely this morning when you and Guatier came to the hold.

That was another thing, what ever happened to him?

You assume he was killed based upon what they tried to do with you. But killing him seems too nice for what he did to them.

Perhaps he was down in their dungeons.

That was a question for another day.

Tomorrow, you’ll take Jeongin up on that offer to train with him and the rest of the guards.

But, for right now there was an enormous, cozy, warm mattress in your own personal bedroom waiting for you to rest your head in.

That was if you ever found your room again.

#stray kids reader insert #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids fantasy au #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic

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suguwu · 2 days

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—sponsor a wip for gaza!

i will be joining @ficsforgaza to both spread the word and to hopefully gather some donations if anyone is interested!

i will be doing the sponsor a wip option. as i am a slower writer, i will be setting word count limits for sponsorship so i don't get overwhelmed; they are outlined below with the wip descriptions.

—how it works

RATE: $1 per 100 words

INSTRUCTIONS: donate to a vetted fundraiser of your choosing, take a screenshot of the donation confirmation (make sure your private information is censored as i will be sending ficsforgaza the screenshot of your donation to make sure it isn't being used for multiple writers) and send it to me along with the title of whatever WIP you're sponsoring!

Here’s an example:

bee! here's proof of my donation to help rebuild ahmed's family life in gaza gofundme. I'd like this to go toward the wip 'moon eater' thank you! [screenshot.png showing evidence of donation states that $1 was given, therefore 100 words will be written for the wip 'moon eater']

upon receiving your ask (i won't be publishing them) i will amend the list below and prioritize progressing that wip as well as keeping this post updated weekly.

i may add in more wips as time goes on!

i've never done anything like this before, so please let me know if you have any questions or if you feel i've missed anything!

—current wips

MOON EATER — diluc x reader

f!reader, marriage of convenience, politics, some manipulation, pining, slow burn, eventual smut, jealousy, some blood and gore.

A Mondstadt diplomat in Liyue, your close relationship with the Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia draws Diluc's piercing attention. Ever hungry for information on the Fatui, he comes up with a plan—marrying you. It's the best way. There's nothing else in play. Or so he tells himself.

current wc: 14,447/25,000+

donated (goal) wc: 1,500/3,000

progress tracker: 371/3,000

—

WRAP MY TEETH AROUND THE WORLD — nai x reader

gn!reader, god of the hunt nai au, likely some dark content, other tags to come.

A child of the harvest, your life is forfeit when you're chosen for the Hunt's Rite. You don't expect the god to take an interest in you instead.

current wc: 3,663/10,000+

donated (goal) wc: 1,000/2,000

progress tracker: 0/2,000

thank you in advance for any donation you may give, as i know that times are tough. if none of these interest you, i totally understand! please consider checking out the other writers for fics for gaza and see if there's something more your speed!

last updated may 20, 2024

#bee.navi #ficsforgaza

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insinirate · 8 months

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trying to think of a way to turn around the no kissies angst in a way that still respects the reasons it was there in the first place. something something nai thinking he NEEDS vash to want him and vash thinking he NEEDS nai alive, but both of them so stubborn (even unconsciously?) they resist that kind of... coercion (??) even if it's never stated outright?

but after some long time in this stalemate, nai comes to slowly accept that vash may never feel the same. meanwhile vash gradually comes to terms with the idea of nai someday leaving him. this shifts things, slowly, so that nai WANTS vash, wants him so bad but he'll survive if this is all it ever is. vash WANTS nai to live and stay with him forever but he'll go on, somehow, even if he doesn't.

maybe someday that shift loosens things up enough for each of them that it stops feeling like being cornered and starts just feeling like being desired, which is -- different.

then kissie after that. :)

the way i see it panning out is probably over a time span of DECADES bc they have to unlearn a lot of habits that at the time made it bearable to coexist but over time became the cause of their mutual suffocation

a big hurdle i think for them to cross is distance which is reasonably Very Daunting to them bc the last time they were separated knives tried to obliterate the galaxy and vash had to hunt him down, but now the stakes arent as world-rending to anybody else but them and they can take their time

knives' progress is probably accidental bc he rips the bandaid right off just to feel anything more than the dull ache of wanting to die. he stops kissing vash, stops seeking out affection and eventually elects to sleep in a separate room (it freaks vash out). eventually he just learns to shrug it off like everything else he feels strongly about and vash is left to grapple with whether hes started to miss it because its familiar or because he actually liked it. he finally gets time alone to figure out if his new feelings are his own and not something to entertain knives' advances in order to keep him tethered here

vash on the other hand will finally have to take the gamble and trust knives not to disappear when vash turns away and eventually hell figure out the cues that while knives desperately craves death, he doesnt actually intend to die, especially not while they still have things to do (we have to come back in 3 months to harvest, can we take a detour back towards the plant before we leave tomorrow?, we'll try again next week, etc)

and while it makes knives kinda antsy, vash will be pleasantly surprised to find out that he doesnt have to ask knives to heel, hell walk alongside vash just fine

#theres still the whole ww thing but i think ive already talked Too Much #post-max au #anonymous

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boombambaby · 3 months

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[ Closed Starter for @adorable-feisty-misfit ]

One word; Yzma. One minute, Kuzco was strolling through the palace halls at a relaxed step, admiring the long line of portraits of himself in various poses and states of dress lining the walls. His newest royal advisor kept pace with him, walking by his side and steadily reading off of a list of ‘to do’ items to be completed or dismissed within the next week. They were still running damage control from Yzma’s power grab, removing all traces of her likeness from the palace and deciding what if any of her ‘changes’ could be kept. “. . . The royal bust she commissioned for the front entrance— “ “Scrap it.” “— Eggplant colored drapes lining the throne room and adorning all of the public hallways within the palace— “ “Nope. Eggplant, shmegplant. Who even likes that color?” A pause, and he chuckles at his bad attempt at a joke. “You know what I mean. Forget it. Next.” “— She sent a courier to each village to speak with the village leaders and figure out when their harvest would be complete for her coronation ceremony.” “Hm. Might not be a bad idea to keep at least part of that one.” “— She planned a new temple to be built in your honor, to be finished by early next week.” “Nope. Not dead. X-nay, the emple-teh. Next.” It continued like that for some time, the two of them making their leisurely way towards the throne room where he was to oversee the peasants complaints and delegate responsibility for new projects to his council. Kuzco dismisses his advisor as they turn the corner, waving him off so he can head to the throne room proper to meet with his Royal Scribe ahead of the peasant petitions-- which is exactly when he spots what looks like a lost . . . child? Wandering around the halls. ". . . Well, this can't be good."

#Kuzco #Vanellope #Closed Starter #Disney Crossover #the emperors new groove #Wreck it Ralph #I hope this makes sense!#Sorry it's so long #wanted to set the scene haha #Next one will be shorter #Emperors honor!#Also hi!#roleplayer #adorable-feisty-misfit

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schlock-luster-video · 2 years

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On October 5, 1991 Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky debuted in Japan.

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eilinelsghost · 1 month

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Some Sentences for a Monday

Thanks to @welcomingdisaster for tagging me to share a snippet from a current WIP. Here's a segment from Atandil 17:

It began with laughter, of course, somewhere between flirtation and feigned insult, vying for the last of the little harvest. “When Bel was first learning to eat,” Balan had said with a chuckle, slipping a berry onto the tip of his index finger, “he needed to be coaxed for every bite, so each berry would be a hat upon a dancer, singing a little song until he laughed hard enough I could slip one into his mouth.”

“And that was successful?” “Of course.” He hummed a melody and bobbed his finger back and forth with a grin. “Does it not persuade thee?” Nóm shifted in a swift motion and caught the finger in his mouth, retrieving the berry before Balan could pull it away. “It does,” he mumbled around the fruit, dropping back onto the grass with a mirrored grin. “But then I have no opposition to berries.” “Gaitch!”[1] Balan rolled over in mock offense. “That was my last.” “Shouldst not have made it dance, then.” “Another three thou hast!” He nodded toward the other’s palm, then lunged after them as Finrod closed his hand and held it out of reach. “Nay, give it here, I’ll have them off thee in recompense.” It was a muddle from there, tangled limbs and grappling fingers, the crushed flowers filling his senses like wine, and laughter tumbling through the glade. Nóm’s palm pressed him back, Balan rolled to pin the arm in place. Balan launched toward the clenched fingers, Nóm’s legs wove through his and tripped him downward instead. The hand about his wrist, his leg hooked behind the other’s, the warmth of him, half-sparring, half-embracing, Nóm’s palm resting now upon his waist. They rolled back into the trillium and Balan scrambled atop him at last, pinning his arms to the ground and grinning down at him in triumph. “Bested,” he gasped, laughing still as he caught his breath and tightened his grip about the other’s wrists, eyes glinting. “Loose thine hand, I’ll have my vengeance.” But the other lay frozen, a sea of gold splayed about his head, and his eyes were fixed on Balan’s, unblinking. “Open your hand,” he said again, in his own tongue now, and obediently Nóm’s fingers parted. The airna’akran[2] glistened in the sunlight, bright as blood against his skin. They had been crushed in the struggle, but held at least somewhat intact, and slowly Balan shifted up to gather them in his mouth.

“There is a saying amongst my people—the nectar of justice is as honey upon the tongue.” His lips brushed the other’s palm and amusement rumbled through his voice. “But these you’ve left me are tart as gooseberries.” A trickle of juice had run down along the wrist and he set his lips to this in turn, little bothering to disguise the kiss as he lingered, the other’s pulse pounding against his mouth. It pounded too against his palms where they held Nóm’s arms pinned in the grass beside his head, and Balan hesitated for a moment, then let his lips brush along the other’s forearm and drew back to meet the grey eyes once more. “A creature of flesh after all, ghomenno?”

[1] Gaitch: (faux-Taliska) swine [2] airna'akran: (faux-Taliska) jewel-fruit

Tagging in @thelordofgifs, @that-angry-noldo, @sallysavestheday, and @melestasflight to share some lines of a current WIP if you'd like!

#WIPs #atandil #finrod #bëor #my fic

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 5 months

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Judah's Sin and Punishment

1 At that time, saith the Lord, they shall bring out the bones of the kings of Judah, and the bones of his princes, and the bones of the priests, and the bones of the prophets, and the bones of the inhabitants of Jerusalem, out of their graves:

2 And they shall spread them before the sun, and the moon, and all the host of heaven, whom they have loved, and whom they have served, and after whom they have walked, and whom they have sought, and whom they have worshipped: they shall not be gathered, nor be buried; they shall be for dung upon the face of the earth.

3 And death shall be chosen rather than life by all the residue of them that remain of this evil family, which remain in all the places whither I have driven them, saith the Lord of hosts.

4 Moreover thou shalt say unto them, Thus saith the Lord; Shall they fall, and not arise? shall he turn away, and not return?

5 Why then is this people of Jerusalem slidden back by a perpetual backsliding? they hold fast deceit, they refuse to return.

6 I hearkened and heard, but they spake not aright: no man repented him of his wickedness, saying, What have I done? every one turned to his course, as the horse rusheth into the battle.

7 Yea, the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times; and the turtle and the crane and the swallow observe the time of their coming; but my people know not the judgment of the Lord.

8 How do ye say, We are wise, and the law of the Lord is with us? Lo, certainly in vain made he it; the pen of the scribes is in vain.

9 The wise men are ashamed, they are dismayed and taken: lo, they have rejected the word of the Lord; and what wisdom is in them?

10 Therefore will I give their wives unto others, and their fields to them that shall inherit them: for every one from the least even unto the greatest is given to covetousness, from the prophet even unto the priest every one dealeth falsely.

11 For they have healed the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no peace.

12 Were they ashamed when they had committed abomination? nay, they were not at all ashamed, neither could they blush: therefore shall they fall among them that fall: in the time of their visitation they shall be cast down, saith the Lord.

13 I will surely consume them, saith the Lord: there shall be no grapes on the vine, nor figs on the fig tree, and the leaf shall fade; and the things that I have given them shall pass away from them.

14 Why do we sit still? assemble yourselves, and let us enter into the defenced cities, and let us be silent there: for the Lord our God hath put us to silence, and given us water of gall to drink, because we have sinned against the Lord.

15 We looked for peace, but no good came; and for a time of health, and behold trouble!

16 The snorting of his horses was heard from Dan: the whole land trembled at the sound of the neighing of his strong ones; for they are come, and have devoured the land, and all that is in it; the city, and those that dwell therein.

17 For, behold, I will send serpents, cockatrices, among you, which will not be charmed, and they shall bite you, saith the Lord.

18 When I would comfort myself against sorrow, my heart is faint in me.

19 Behold the voice of the cry of the daughter of my people because of them that dwell in a far country: Is not the Lord in Zion? is not her king in her? Why have they provoked me to anger with their graven images, and with strange vanities?

20 The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.

21 For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt; I am black; astonishment hath taken hold on me.

22 Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there? why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered? — Jeremiah 8 | King James Version (KJV) The King James Version Bible is in the public domain Cross References: Genesis 37:25; Numbers 21:6; Deuteronomy 28:30; Deuteronomy 32:35; Judges 5:22; Judges 18:29; 2 Kings 9:37; Job 30:26; Psalm 143:7; Proverbs 6:6; Proverbs 24:16; Song of Solomon 2:12; Jeremiah 4:19; Jeremiah 5:3; Jeremiah 5:6; Jeremiah 9:1; Jeremiah 14:2; Matthew 9:12; Matthew 21:19; Matthew 27:34; Acts 7:42; Acts 14:15; Romans 1:22; 1 Corinthians 1:27; 1 Thessalonians 5:3; Revelation 9:6; Revelation 9:20

#Judah's sin #Judah's punishment #Jeremiah weeps for his people #Jeremiah 8 #Book of Jeremiah #Old Testament #KJV #King James Bible

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