#fallen fionn

[chez-cinnamon]

✨bearded Fionn✨ also, is his outfit made up of clothing from the others as he probably doesn’t have spares in the fallen world?

Indeed it is!! He sewed his clothes himself, albeit with some difficulty - at least he has some tips and tricks Cass taught him in the past!!

#welcome home #welcome home au #fallen home au #fallen fionn #couldn’t be arsed to screenshot it so I took a pic lmao #but agreed anon bearded Fionn supremacy

[mali-umkin]

It's dark outside and I'm at the uni library, sitting on the floor and have been reading old Irish and Ghàidhlig books for three hours about the Fenian cycle - most of them haven't been borrowed since the 1960s but they're all so full of lovely handwritten notes, they must have kept company to many students here throughout the years

#I've fallen down the rabbit hole #Uni #Irish #Gaelic #fionn mac cumhaill

[bright-side20]

The Truth-Teller/Hofas Spoilers

It seems like people are hung up on Enalius possessing the TT in order to serve the Illyrian plot for Azriel, but in fact, that's selective reading. Let's see what is written in the books.

My sword blazed with light. That dagger shone with darkness. Both of them are crafted of the same black metal. Iridium, right?" She jerked her chin to Azriel, to the dagger at his side. "Ore from a fallen meteorite?" Azriel's silence was confirmation enough.

=Both blades are made from the same material of a fallen meteorite.

My father had never shown himself to be giving-long had he kept Gwydion and never once offered it to my mother. The dagger that had belonged to his dear friend, slain during the war, hung at his side, unused. But not for long.

Theia extended her hands toward the water, the offered blades. And on phantom wings, sword and dagger soared for her. Sum- moned to her hands. Starlight flared from Theia as she snatched the sword and knife out of the air, the blades glowing with their own starlight.

My mother returned that day with only Pelias and my father's blades. As she had helped Make them, they answered to the call in her blood. To her very power.

Conclusion: The Starsword and the Truth-Teller were both created in the same manner, crafted by Fionn and Theia. Fionn likely gifted the Truth-Teller to his best friend Enalius during the great war when Illyrians fought against the daglan to prevent them from reaching the Cauldron atop Ramiel. After Enalius's death, Fionn simply took his blade back.

_Azriel's secret lineage:

My mother eventually trusted only Helena and myself to seek the truth. She knew we could be of great use to her, because we bore the shadows as well as starlight.

=The blades simply represent both powers of the Dusk Court people: light and shadows.

We spent a month hidden in the enemy's stronghold, no more than shadows ourselves.

Doesn't that remind you of this :

ACOMAF:

“Like the daemati,” Rhys said to me, “shadowsingers are rare—coveted by courts and territories across the world for their stealth and predisposition to hear and feel things others can’t.”

=Daemati (mind reading) and Shadowsinger abilities are simply the powers of the Dusk Court/Avallen people, which is why they are rare, especially in Prythian.

_Foreshadowing from HOFAS :

Azriel, without Rhysand to translate, watched in silence. Bryce could have sworn shadows wreathed him, like Ruhn's, yet... wilder. The way Cormac's had been.

The male now held the Starsword at the ready, Truth-Teller gripped in his other hand.He must have had some sort of Starborn blood in him, then-a distant ancestor, maybe. Or maybe his possession of the knife somehow allowed him to also bear the Starsword.

That's a very obvious foreshadowing. It would explain why Azriel is so different from other Illyrians, why he can winnow, why Illyrians couldn't understand the origin of his Shadowsinger gift, and why it was merely assumed that he learned the language of shadows during his imprisonment.

_Az confirming that his shadows are magical:

His brows rose.... The shadows are made of magic, just very condensed.

_Where did Azriel find the Truth-Teller:

No one knows what became of Theia and General Pelias," I told countless generations. "They betrayed King Fionn, and Gwydion was for- ever lost, his dagger with it." I lied with every breath.

Silene made people believe that the dagger was also lost.

I made sure he knew that the buried weapon he'd need against the Asteri was down here.

While she told her son that the dagger is buried in the prison, therefore, Azriel found the Truth-Teller in the prison.

ACOMAF:

Azriel :"I'll go. The Prison sentries know me-what I am." 👀

So, tell me, what is more interesting: learning about Azriel's obvious Illyrian side, given that his father is an Illyrian, or discovering his secret lineage? Keep in mind that we know nothing about his mother. How did he manage to find the Truth-Teller? Why was he extremely possessive of it, yet decided to give it to Elain? This includes the famous scene that antis spent years trying to downplay, the scene in the coloring book, and on the ACOWAR cover.

_Can Azriel get access to the Truth-Teller's magic :

Can your dagger kill the unkillable, too?" "It's called Truth-Teller," he said in that soft voice, like shadows given sound. "And no, it cannot."Bryce arched a brow. "So does it tell the truth?" A hint of a smile, more chilling than the frigid air around them. "It gets people to do so."

This shows that he probably doesn't know the full potential of the dagger and that he used it for torturing people.

Vesperus took another step, steadier now, and smiled past Bryce. At Azriel, at Truth-Teller. "You don't know how to use it,do you?" Azriel pointed the dagger toward the advancing Asteri. "Pretty sure this end's the one that'll go through your gut." Vesperus chuckled, her dark hair swaying with each inching step closer. "Typical of your kind. You want to play with our weap- ons, but have no concept of their true abilities."

I think that Azriel is like Ruhn; he can wield the Starsword and the Truth-Teller. However, he cannot get access to their full power.

_Bryce using the Starsword and the Truth-Teller to kill Vesperus :

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart- She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed.

Elain :

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

=The shadows were the Truth-Teller's magic; it had answered to Elain's will and magic, killing the King of Hybern. Y'all Keep in mind that Elain is the first female to wield and use the Truth-Teller since Silene.

I want to add

_If there is someone who would be a descendant of Enalius, it's Cassian, and it's already foreshadowed:

ACOWAR :

Nesta listened to the low-level Illyrian soldiers whispering about how Cassian had thrown that spear, how he’d cut down soldiers like stalks of wheat, how he’d fought like Enalius—their most ancient warrior-god and the first of the Illyrians. It had been a while, it seemed, since they had seen Cassian in open battle. Since they’d realized that he’d been young in the War, and now … the looks they gave Cassian as he passed … they were the same as those the High Lords had given Rhys upon seeing his power. Like them, and yet Other.

ACOSF:

At twenty-one, he’d still been drinking and brawling and fucking, unconcerned with anything and anybody except his ambition to be the most skilled of Illyrian warriors since Enalius himself.

Enalius being the Illyrians leader and Fionn's bestie / Cassian is the Illyrians general and Rhys's bestie. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#hofas spoilers #azriel shadowsinger #pro elain #pro elriel #elain archeron #acotar thoughts #cassian acotar #azriel acotar #elriel supremacy

[merymoonbeam]

Ramiel stone - The meteor

this is my crackiest crack theory to date.

So in every cc book it is mentioned that Gwydion is made from a meteor that fallen to their world. And in hofas we learn that Truth-teller is also from that same meteor.

That sword was currently strapped across Ruhn’s back, its black hilt devouring the glaring firstlights. Isaiah had once heard someone say the sword was made from iridium mined from a meteorite, forged in another world—before the Fae had come through the Northern Rift. (Hoeab)

“The sword was part of a pair,” Ruhn said to him. “A long-bladed knife was forged from the iridium mined from the same meteorite, which fell on our old world.” The world the Fae had left to travel through the Northern Rift and into Midgard. “But we lost the knife eons ago. Even the Fae Archives have no record of how it might have been lost, but it seems to have been sometime during the First Wars.” (hoeab)

“It’s an ancient sword,” the Autumn King said at last, drawing Ruhn from his wandering thoughts, “from another world. Made from the metal of a fallen star—a meteorite. This sword exists beyond our planet’s laws. Perhaps the Reapers sensed that and shied away.” (hosab)

“This was unique. It felt like … like an answer. My sword blazed with light. That dagger shone with darkness. Both of them are crafted of the same black metal. Iridium, right?” She jerked her chin to Azriel, to the dagger at his side. “Ore from a fallen meteorite?” Azriel’s silence was confirmation enough. (Hofas)

we dont know any meteor in acotar. But azriel confirms it with his silence. That Truth-teller is indeed made from a fallen meteorite.

So what could it be? This is the crack part of the theory. What if it is the ramiel stone?

The blades are black. Ramiel stone is black.

These are the same examples of the Truth-Teller and Gwydion. I can't add every one of them.

Another shift of memory, and Fionn pulled a long blade from the Cauldron, dripping water. A black blade, whose dark metal absorbed any trace of light around it. Bryce’s knees weakened. (Hofas)

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart—(hofas)

“Some major prophecy fulfillment,” Bryce said, hoping to Hel she was hiding the tremble in her arms from keeping the black blades steady, from ignoring that instinct murmuring to her to bring them together, not keep them apart. (Hofas)

And this is the ramiel stone.

But Cassian paused before a landscape painting of a towering, barren mountain, void of life yet somehow thrumming with presence. Snow and pines crusted the smaller peaks around it, but this strange, bald mountain … Only a black stone jutted from its top. A monolith, Nesta realized, stepping closer. (Acosf)

Far up, too far, lay its peak with the sacred black stone. Three stars glinted above the mountain: Arktos and Oristes to the left and right; Carynth crowning them. Their light flared and waned, as if in invitation and challenge. (Acosf)

Snow drifted across the image, and then Theia was standing atop a mountain, a black monolith rising behind her. (Hofas)

So what if ramiel stone is that meteor?

And in acofas Cassian says this

Who had put that stone atop the peak, he didn’t know, either. Legend said it had existed before the Night Court formed, before the Illyrians migrated from the Myrmidons, before humans had even walked the earth. Even with the fresh snow crusting Ramiel, none had touched the pillar of stone. (Acofas)

So maybe someone didn't put it but it fell to their world.

And fionn dipped the blades to cauldron on top of the cauldron too where the ramiel stone is so maybe they are more connected than we thought?

Again this is CRACK.

#ramiel stone #gwydion #truth-teller #idc about meteors forming a crater and ramiel is a mountain...we dont follow logic around here. #cc3 spoilers #hofas spoilers

[mask131]

Cold winter: Cailleach

CAILLEACH

Category: Gaelic mythology

The Cailleach is a very famous winter figure part of the Gaelic beliefs. “Cailleach” is a Gaelic word meaning “hag” or “old woman”, and it is the most common term to designate this entity – but in the details, she exists split between the two main Gaelic nations. In Scotland she is “Beira, the Queen of Winter”, while in Ireland she is the “Hag of Beara” (An Chailleach Bheara) ; both were originally one same divine figure, but who evolved in two different ways.

I) The Irish Cailleach

In Ireland, the Cailleach is called by some the Hag of Beara because it was said she lived in the Beara Peninsula (County Cork) ; some also call her the “Old Woman of Dingle” because it was said she was born in the city of the same name (County Kerry), at “Teach Mor”, the “Great House”, said to be the house at the further western point of Ireland, on the Dingle promontory. A third of her Irish name is “The White Nun of Beara”, due to a literal reading of “cailleach”, which means “hooded one” or “veiled one” – this gave birth to a legend according to which the Hag wore a veil for a hundred years that had been given to her by Saint Cummine. Appearing in many pieces of Irish literature, the Hag is said to be an ancient entity – though not as old as Ireland itself, but still much older than most living beings – who actually regularly ages and then de-ages before aging again. It seems she always start as a youthful maiden, who “drinks mead and wine with kings”, before becoming a “wretched, shriveled old hag” – usually this aging process is tied to the May Day, implying that it might be a yearly process, as the Hag is young when winter is young, then ages until she becomes a sorrowful, lonely, rag-wearing hag by May Day (aka the end of the “dark season”/winter and the beginning of the “bright season”). But against this “yearly aging” is opposed another tradition that presents the Hag’s successive youths as being actually successive lifetimes – she ages like a regular human, but never dies and keeps regenerating herself. According to this tradition, the Hag is depicted as either the mother or the foster mother of the ancestors of today’s most prominent clans of Ireland: the usual numbers claim that she had fifty foster-children that she raised in Beara/Beare, that she lived seven human lives successfully, saw all of her husbands and lovers die of old age, and that she considers all the “tribes and races” of Ireland her “grandsons and great-grandsons”.

A notable landmark associated with her is a rock by the seashore, at Beara: this rock, called the “Hag of Beara” or the “Hag’s Chair”, is said to mark the location where the Hag waits for the return of Manannan mac Lir, the Irish god of the sea, who is for some her husband, for others her father. But people are conflicted as to what the rock actually is: for some it is the chair the Hag sits in while waiting for Manannan, but for others it is rather the fossilized remains of her body – she waited for so long that she turned to rock.  Numerous other locations in Ireland are associated with her, from the “Hag’s Head” (a bizarrely shaped rock on the Cliffs of Moher) to the “Calliagh Beara’s House”, the top of Slieve Gullion. In fact, a legend claims that there she tricked the mythical Irish warrior Fionn mac Cumhaill: as he was climbing the Slieve Gullion, he found a beautiful young lady crying by the shore of a lake, she claimed her golden ring had fallen into the lake – Fionn, being a true Irish gentleman, jumped into the lake, retrieved the ring and brought it back to the maiden… who had turn into an hideous laughing old hag – she was the Calliagh Berra, a wicked witch, and as Fionn came out of the lake, he saw that he too, from a beautiful young man, had turned into a withered old man. No one in his clan recognized him when he returned – only his faithful hounds recognized his smell, and as the clan realized who he was, they hunted down the witch and forced her to restore his youth. But ever since, Fionn kept his hair white, and it is said that anyone who bathes into the lake will have the same aging curse the hero suffered from.

Various texts give her various names: for some her true name is Digdi/Didge, for others she is Milucra, a third calls her Birog… And one story, “The Hunt of Slieve Cuilin” declares that she has a sister, who is none other than Aine, the Irish goddess of summer and the sun. Finally her association with witchcraft is reinforced by the fact that sorceresses are called “cailleach phiseogach”, while “wise women/fortune-tellers” are “cailleach feasa”.

2) The Scottish Cailleach

While the Irish Cailleach is a more diffuse, unclear and mysterious figure scattered throughout poetic and literary works, the Scottish version of the Hag is much more defined thanks to folklorist work.  

Called “Beira” or “The Queen of Winter”, she is here depicted as a one-eyed giantess with white hair, a dark blue skin, and teeth the color of rust: it is said she brought to existence many of the mountains and hills of Scotland, either by accident (she carried stones in a creel or wicker basket, and they fell out), or willingly (so that she could use them as stepping stones ; and it is said she carries with her a hammer to shape the hills and valleys). Said to be the mother of all the Scottish gods and goddesses, she is an embodiment of winter who has her own herd of deer and owns a staff that is able to freeze the ground it touches. She causes winter by going to the western coast of Scotland and washing there her great plaid in the Gulf of Corryvreckan (which is literally the Gulf of the Cauldron of the Plaid): it takes her three days to wash her plaid, and during these three days the roar of an incoming storm can be heard. After the three days, her plaid is freshly white: she covers the land with it – it is the snow. Another very important day is “La Fheill Brighde”, the 1st of February, Saint Brigid’s Day, halfway between the winter solstice and spring equinox: on this day, Beira gathers her firewood for the rest of winter, so if she plans on having a long winter (because she is the one who controls it), she will make the 1st of February a bright and sunny day so that she can gather a lot of firewood, to keep herself warm ; but if the weather is bad on Saint Brigid’s day, it either means that she knows the winter will soon be over, or that she overslept and due to the lack of firewood will shorten winter.

Her presence on Saint Brigid’s day is extremely important, as Saint Brigid is the Christianized version of an older Gaelic deity, Brighde, with who the Cailleach/Beira was associated: whereas Beira ruled the world during the “dark season”, between Samhain on the 1st of November (first day of winter) to Beltaine (1st of May, first day of summer), Brighde/Brigid ruled it during the “bright season” of summer. For some, the two entities are separate goddesses, and the Winter Queen “pass on” her power to her summer counterpart between Saint Brigid’s Day and Beltane (1st of May) ; some versions rather claim that at the end of winter, the Cailleach turns to stone, as the petrification of the divine hag is the only way to let summer come. But a different tradition rather claims that Beira and Brighde are two faces of one same goddess, who changes name and appearance depending on the season: according to this tradition, on the winter solstice (also known as “the longest night”), the reign of Beira as the Queen of Winter stops. She goes to a magical Well of Youth and drink its water – from then on, as the days grow longer, Beira will grow younger, until she finally becomes again the maiden Brigid and the Queen of Summer. But as the summer months go by, Brigid will age again – and when she is an old hag again, it is time for Beira the Queen of Winter to return.

The Ben Nevis mountain was said to be the throne of Beira, while the two mountains of the Isle of Skye were named the “mountains of the Cailleach” because strong rains and brutal storms regularly descended from them onto the lands below. She is also associated with Ben Cruachan, to the point she is sometimes called “Cailleach nan Cruachan”, “The Hag of Ben Cruachan”. She also apparently created by accident the Loch Awe: tired after a long day of herding deer, the Cailleach fell asleep on the Ben Cruachan, and a well she usually took care of overflowed during her nap and flowed the valley nearby, creating the loch.

A final point: some Scottish legends multiply the Cailleach into the “Cailleachan”, the Old Women/the Hags – also called the Storm Hags. These destructive spirits of nature were said to be responsible for the violent windstorms of spring.

- - - - - -

There is also a tradition, shared by both Scotland and Ireland, according to which the first farmer finishing the harvest of the grain has to make a corn dolly. This corn dolly is supposed to represent the Cailleach, and is sometimes called the “Carlin/Carline” (a word from the Lowland Scots, meaning “old woman” or “witch”, and which itself is derived from the Gaelic Cailleach). Made out of the last sheaf of the crop, this “Old Woman doll” is then tossed into the field of another farmer who hasn’t finished his harvest of grain: when the farmer is done, he promptly has to toss it into the field of another one who hasn’t finished – and so forth until the last to finish his harvest gets stuck with the doll. This poor farmer will be forced to take the “Old Woman” into his home and to take care of the doll for the entire year – which is literally housing, feeding and treating as a guest the witch/hag during the entirety of winter. (Given the hag herself is supposed to embody winter… not a great thing). It was a true competition among harvesters, all wanting to avoid the punishment of having to invite the witch of winter into their house.

#cailleach #cold winter #beira #queen of winter #gaelic mythology #irish folklore #irish mythology #scottish folklore #beara

[christiansorrell]

Play-By-Blog #14: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our maps: The Isle, The Dungeon (so far)

[You can use the links above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle and the so far uncovered portions below the surface. On the Dungeon map, you are currently in Floor 2, Room 20.]

Now, back to the adventure!

[For this week's poll, I backed out my own vote (since I have to vote if I want to see the results early) which put Option 2 and Option 5 at a TIE (and what different options they are)! I flipped a coin to determine our path and Option 2 - "Travel south to Room 19" won.]

Considering all that you have seen, you gather your things and head out into the dark halls, glowing amulet at the ready. You head south and, knowing what lies all the way down this hall in the dark--that horrific ball of tooth and flesh, you cannot help but hug the left wall until you feel it branch off to the left and towards the closed stone door you saw through your arcane eye moments ago.

Before you [Room 19, Dungeon Map], is a large stone door carved with images of several cauldrons filled with people, cooking over open flames. The only sound you can hear is that of the foul being back down the hall and further to the south.

You slide the stone door's heavy latch and pull it open.

"As soon as the door opens, the contents of the room flood outwards--a thick sludge of earth, rust-red and black. The smell is debilitating." You go to react, to pull back and run, but the smell hits you like a hammer to the head, sending painful waves through your sinuses and down your throat. [Saving Throw: 13 - Failure (needed to roll under 8)] You are reeling from the stench as you feel the thick liquid wrap around your feet and begin to pass you in the hall, piling up more and more of your legs.

You try again to free yourself, your vision blurry from the pungent cloud of fumes now filling the hall as well. [Saving Throw: 5 - Success (needed to roll under 8)] With a burst of adrenaline, you pull your feet free and skitter back down the hall to safety. The ooze continues to pour out down the hall for two dozen feet or so before stopping, having spread as far as it can given the space and its disgustingly high viscosity. [If you had been stuck in the sludge for a 2nd round (1d6 roll of 2), you'd have fallen unconscious from both the sludge itself overwhelming you and from the thick vapors coming off of it.]

You check your feet and legs. No damage, but your head is still pained by that disgusting smell.

You get as close as you are able to the ooze and peer down the hall, into the room from which it came. There, on a slightly raised dais now uncovered, rests a knife--seemingly of bone or stone, it's hard to tell from this distance. Beyond the knife on the other side of the newly-opened chamber is another stone door, leading further east.

[A short, but potentially dire entry this week, but Medon lives to fight another day! See you next week (and don't forget to spread this post around so we can get more votes - to help avoid ties and just for more fun)! - Christian]

PBB #15 is up now!

#meatcastle pbb #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #ttrpgs #rpg #fantasy #luke gearing #the isle #play by blog #play by post #polls #choose your own adventure

[fionn-the-cat]

Day 36:

Fionn is recovering well but hates his cone. Considering the circumstances around his one undescended testicle, an extra £225, we can’t even afford to buy him a £20 onesie to help him recover from the surgery. He’s managing to eat but struggling to drink. He’s hurt himself trying to remove the cone. He can’t seem to walk right, although that could be the anaesthetic working it’s way out of his system. He’s walked into multiple things and been unable to navigate the room as well as before. Luckily though he can’t get at his stitches and has finally fallen asleep on top of me. I hate seeing him suffer but we can’t really afford the more comfortable option. If anyone wants to help us out, my PayPal is below.

#fionn the cat #and jen the human #cat #cute #fionn #kitten #fionn mac cumhaill

[floralneonlights]

In my rewrite, I created new regions and described the regions that exist already.

This post is kinda long so I'm sorry

Ru’aun Region [ GODDESS - Irene ]

Geography - Water is the main form of travel with very little roads. The Yggdrasil Forest and Sacred Forest are both located in this region but are very different. While both are secretive locations and laced with magic, the Sacred Forest is known for the home of many mythical creatures while the Yggdrasil Forest is the home grounds for many elves. The Ru’aun region has many different regional climates, unlike the Gal’ruk Region.

No monarchy; O’Khasis is trying to change that though.

Gal’ruk Region [ GOD - Enki ]

Geography - The region of Gal’ruk is one of sea and ice. Despite this, there are many natural resources surrounding the place, previously a wondrous trading port until the Demon Warlock set his home there, turning the Gal’ruk region into one of danger. After the Demon Warlock fell, the Gal’ruk region opened up ports again and are slowly but surely getting travelers again.

No monarchy (divided up, never been a kingdom based region)

Tu’la Region [ GODDESS - Menphia ]

Geography - High resources in metals and magick. The best it can be described as is a steampunk region with many demon tribes located there, including Cat Yokai. Although, humans can be found there as well. Due to the opposing groups, they can never work together leaving the region in ruins. All of them are divided.

Run by a monarchy, under tyrannical rule.

Ivorian Region [ GODDESS - Drorit ]

Geography - Hotter than the other regions, is known for finding rare and precious gems in the waters, and rumored to be where the relics of the Divine Warriors were founded. The main system for the Ivorian Region is the gem/crystal/ore trading, as they have the highest amounts out of all the regions.

No monarchy, followed after what happened in Ru’aun

Umbre’en Region [ GOD/GODDESS - none; Shad is from this region ]

Geography - Usually cloudy and gloomy weather, but has great cropping grounds and leads to the crops never being overwatered. Known for great soil, rain and thus great crop production. Despite being the region where the embodiment of death to many comes from, it somehow has a faster production rate for growing crops. Rumor is that it was blessed by Enki when visiting.

Monarchy, normal rule. 

Aerania Region [ GOD - Fionn ]

Geography - Very small scattering of islands, presumed to previously had bigger and more islands surrounding it but had been flooded. Known for having merfolk and water spirits roaming the area while humans living on shore. Many water spirits and half-merfolk live on the land as well. Known for their marketplace: fish, wool, literature. Basically a place to stop to get basic needs, a merchant region.

Monarchy, somewhat chaotic rule due to the scattering of the islands, but not tyrants.

Rigguard Region [ GOD - Esmund ]

Geography - At one point, Rigguard was a luxurious place to live, massive mountains to hike, high wildlife rates, and warm weather. Until a curse was placed on it, turning it into an ice wasteland with very little parts left that keep the warmth that was originally all around. Struggling to make it by and the king and queen becoming MIA leaving the people with no guidance left. Seemingly forgotten by the other regions.

Monarchy, though as of recent, the king and queen have fallen into some sort of episode.

Some small notes - Fionn and Drorit are my new characters for the Divine Warriors, collectively replacing Kul'zak - If you want to add anything to the canon regions (Ru'aun, Gal'ruk, and Tu'la), it would be appreciated. - If you want a separate post on my version of the Divine Warriors, please let me know :] I'm going to post the main points of the rewritten characters once completed.

#mcd #minecraft mystreet #mcd rewrite #minecraft diaries rewrite #aphblr #aphverse #mcd geography...... my god #I don't know if anyone actually cares about the geography but I put my entire SOUL into thus #I need to get back into MCD but hi

[feignedhues]

open to: nana suwanarat | @mistyblossoms​ location: red carpet

He should have been excited— taking the sweet taste of adrenaline and the bitterness of anxiety to make the perfect mixture to get him through the night with little help. His nerves were always swallowed, but he wasn’t void of them. All of them had to be nervous at this point, and Blue was no exception. 

Yet, Blue wasn’t nervous. The prick and pull of his nerves wasn’t from the stress of saying the right thing or trying to pick out which voice in a swarm of camera flashes and yells to pay attention to. Tension pinned on every part of him came from the two people who stood the closest together. Every and any excuse brewed in his thoughts, claiming his focus to deter from the fact that Blue had simply turned a shade of green above all else. He’d fallen away to the background, moving along the carpet into the venue that seemed to get longer rather than shorter with every passing minute. Every time he thought he was ahead, he’d get stopped by a set of questions and they’d catch up. 

“Now, you know we gotta ask. What’s it like having a couple in the band, any fears of following suit of the greats?” The interviewer asked, keeping him in place long enough for at the very least Nana to get close. Attention was almost immediately darted towards her. “Oh, Nana! How are you? We were just asking about what it’s like to be dating within the band. So, what’s your take?”

Blue interjected to finish off the first question, remorse too weak to be felt. “It’s alright. We’re all friends, it’s bound to happen. But I mean, they’re not getting each other off— in front off us, that is, so it’s not weird. If anything, they’re just something pretty to look at.”

He could feel the knots in his stomach, and he swore that it was words that were acidic above all else. He knew the truth behind the facade they created, what feigned hues of the world stopping and submitting to the single palette of the other. There was a time where Blue had to take that same truth and hide it for Fionn’s sake. It had been their downfall, and what withered hadn’t been buried. It simply rotted until they both couldn’t handle the stench of it, and they pulled apart for good. No one knew, especially not Nana, and he couldn’t help the burn he felt watching someone else take the lie that ruined him and turn it into a pedestal. 

#blue x nana suwanarat 002 #━━ blue interactions ｢my heart and soul were never mine to own｣ #- sips tea - #- burns self with tea -

[chez-cinnamon]

Wally is fun to draw as a warmup !!!

(Fallen! Wally belongs to @askfallen !!)

#welcome home #welcome home au #welcome home oc #real world au #wally darling #howdy pillar #chezzy ocs fionn #fallen wally #RW! Wally and Fallen are the brothers ever!!!! #also obsessed w Wally’s human world disguise #honestly in love w all their disguises #I need to draw them more………….

[misneachsblr]

Maidin Luain Cincíse

“Maidin Luain Cinchíse” is one of my favourite Irish songs. It was written by the Munster poet Mícheál Óg Ó Longáin (1766-1837). Earlier Irish poets tended to be supporters of Jacobitism; however, Ó Longáin was a staunch republican, and even served as a messenger in the United Irishmen. The song, which laments the failure of the 1798 uprising, likely draws from his own personal experiences. Ó Longáin’s disappointment at the failure of his home province to rise is also expressed. I feel that this closeness to the writer is what makes the song so powerful.

“Maidin Luain Cincíse” means “Whit Monday Morning”, and refers to the Monday after Pentecost Sunday (usually referred to in England and Ireland as “Whit Sunday” or “Whitsun”). If I’m correct, I believe this would have fallen on May 28th in 1798. On that day in Wexford, the rebels successfully captured the garrison town of Enniscorthy. I’m not sure why this date is mentioned, as the song is lamenting defeat rather than victory. The language used seems to describe a rural rather than urban battle, too. I don’t know where Ó Longáin fought during the rebellion, and this would be key to understanding the exact situation he references. If anyone could help me check the date, or find the exact battle described, I would be most grateful! The mention of Whit Monday may also contrast the active state of the rebellion with that of Munster. The only major rebel action in Munster did not occur until the Battle of the Big Cross, on June 19th.

This version, sung by Aoife Granville (a folklore lecturer at my university) is the one I’ll translate. It’s considerably shorter than the texts I’ve found elsewhere. In places, different words are substituted. I think its arrangement is beautiful. It has an expressive quality that other versions I’ve found lack.

Maidin Luain Cincíse, labhair an síofra sa ghleann.

Do bhailíodar na cága chun ábhacht a dhéanamh ann

Do chruinníomar na dtimpeall, ‘s do lasamar ár dtinte

‘S do thógamar ceo draíochta go haoibhinn os a gcionn.

 Cá bhfuilid na Muimhnigh nó an fíor go mairid beo,

Ná cruinníd siad ‘nár dtimpeall is cabhrú linn sa ngleo?

Mar is deacair poirt do stríocadh ná clann búir do dhíbirt

Ónár mbailte dúchais dílis bhí ár sinsir riamh fadó...

 Pentecost Monday morning, the síofra spoke in the valley.

The jackdaws assembled, to make their fun there.

We gathered around, and we lit our fires

And we took a magic mist,  blissful, overhead.

 Where are the Munstermen, or the living image,

Won’t they come into our midst and help us in the fight?

For it’s difficult to strike port, or drive out the boorish clan,

From the sweet, native towns our ancestors held long ago.

 A particularly sad verse, not in this version:

Beir scéala suas chun Mumhan uainn, a rún ghil ‘s a stór,

Agus inis an scéal faoi chumha dóibh go bhfuil an sciúirse ‘nár gcomhair;

Mar is mó leanbh fireann fionn geal agus ainnir mhilis mhúinte

Agus ógfhear cliste lúfar san úir uainn ag feo.

 Bear a story from us up to Munster, bright darling, treasure,

And tell the lonely tale to them that the scourge is among us

For there are many fair bright manly lads, and sweet schooled maidens,

And agile clever young men, rotting in the earth.

#sean nos #gaeilge #irish music #irish history #Spotify

[te-pu-si-ti]

January Cast Change

Things I will remember about the leavers

Luke's Neoptolemus breakdown in the Klub, utterly devastating every time

Fionn blowing me away with his Oracle, a character who I thought I'd gotten bored with, that he made completely fresh to me

Tim bestowing upon me the greatest honour, the Keeper of the Paper, on his wonderfully weird Laocoon loop. I've been interacted with in all sorts of ways but this was the most engaged I've felt for the entirety of a loop, being his special little guy

Fred's Kampe, right after I'd fallen in love with Fania's Kampe, being shocked at the same character being played in two totally different and equally fabulous ways, opening a whole new way for me to experience the show

Chihiro's dear sweet Eurydice and strong defiant Polyxena. And looking at Hades like he was an absolute crazy person (he was) when he walked in and stammered "th, there's... a crack..." and held his hands out for whisky

Nathan giving me my first ever mask-off 1:1 as Oracle, me feeling kind of cheeky because I wasn't even following him, but sticking to him like glue for the rest of the show after that

Dafni's gorgeous and sultry Iphigenia-turned-Hecate

Emily T was only in two shows that I ever attended, but I caught her Askalaphos filled with the MOST ennui, so sad, so tired

Harry as a gentle Laocoon and a strong but not too terrifying Kronos, the first one I had the courage to follow (alone for the first half of the loop, no less)

Cameron as my first Polymestor, I had no idea what was going on but I loved his charisma and I still do

Mallory's Persephone stealing a seat next to me and a friend in Peep, looking fascinated and aghast at Kampe with us

Following Jude on his 2nd or 3rd night as Polymestor and being so impressed at how he hit the ground running. It only developed more from there. He had big shoes to fill when Adam Burton left, and he was more than up to the task

Vini, the Agamemnon who put his hand on my shoulder during the finale and somehow made me feel like he was proud of me

Paul's crazy, crazy Luba with the very intense greenhouse scene

#the burnt city #punchdrunk #😭😭😭 #if i've missed someone let me know #writeup #goodbye c1

[lovely-number-7]

Emerys is a cool fall night. He is pumpkin spice and fallen leaves. He is a good book and a warm fire. Emerys is fall.

Hiroshi is a warm breeze. He is a thunder storm. He is a flower grove just starting to bloom. He is a picnic in a field. He is spring.

Valentino is heat off of the pavement. He is the deep end of a swimming pool. He is sweat. He is freedom. He is summer.

Psi is a biting wind. He is a heavy snow. He is the wonder of what's to come next. He is winter.

Fionn is the melting snow. He is the ground thawing. He is the first flowers. He is where winter turns to spring.

Kia is short sleeves. She is driving with windows down and music up. She is a picnic at the river. She is where spring turns to summer.

Indie is whipping winds. They are hoodies and long sleeves. They are a warm hot cup of chocolate. They are where fall turns to winter.

#allison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #luther hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #five hargreeves #hargreeves family #ao3 fanfic #portal to home

[la-sangradura]

LA SANGRADURA: BLUE SWEENEY’S HAVEN

Blue Sweeney found love in an overpriced apartment in New York City that faced a back alleyway occupied by every violent take out order of Chinese restaurant. The smell of fried rice and smoke filled the apartment three times every day, and yet, he never minded it. Comfort was a twin sized mattress that moved from every apartment with him and Fionn, cigarette burns and ash stains the map of how they’d fallen closer and closer. A collection of old textbooks from abandoned studies served as their night stand. They never needed much as long as they had each other. While home is a person, he’s come to realize, Blue finds that when he closes his eyes he always pictured this apartment surrounding them as he fell asleep against him no matter where they were. 

#━━ blue task ｢my heart and soul were never mine to own｣

[hawkepockets]

love is the warmest color

[ID: a drawing of dorian pavus hugging his partner, fionn cadash, from behind. fionn is a dwarf with tanned white skin, auburn hair, and a beard with braids in it. he is wearing black trousers with suspenders and a tight, slightly torn up white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tied, which shows off his strong arms, geometric orange tattoos representing the deep roads, round stomach, and happy trail. one suspender has been pushed off of his shoulder. he is barefoot. he looks adoringly up and back at dorian, flushed, his mouth slightly open. with his right hand, he reaches back to touch dorian’s shoulderblade. with the other, he holds dorian’s hands against his own body. the mark is trailing electric blue-green light. dorian has his feet spread wide apart and is bending down so he can put his mouth close to his much, much shorter lover’s ear. he is looking into fionn’s eyes, and cupping one of fionn’s tits with both hands. he has a monochromatic flower tattoo sleeve on his right arm, and some matching leaves on his ankle. his fingernails are painted black. he is wearing a white wife-beater tank top, with one strap fallen off his arm.  his feet and legs are bare. the background is an abstract flow of teal and green shades, with white circles around and under the lovers’ bodies.]

#dragon age #dai #dragon age: inquisition #dorian pavus #pavash #cadash #oc: fionn #dorian #pocket talk #pocket art

[the-iceni-bitch]

Snowball Fight

Ninja and Puppy’s First Christmas

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader (OTP ninja and puppy)

Words: ~1.5k

Summary: You and Ransom enjoy a fresh snowfall

Warnings: explicit language, fluff, implied smut, soft!Ransom, idiots in love, 18+ because of the AU

A/N: The cuteness is unbearable you guys!!!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!

“Baby, wake up.” Ransom grinned when you growled at him before rolling over and burying your face in the pillow, nibbling on your ear until he heard you let out a low curse as he curled his body around yours. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

“What time is it?” You opened your eyes reluctantly and reached for your phone, scowling when you got a look at the clock and whining when he just kept kissing over your neck and jaw and made it very hard for you to fall back into the deep sleep you had been enjoying. “Seven AM? If you woke me up this early just to show me your dick, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“I mean, my dick is always worth seeing, that’s not why I woke you up though.” He flipped you onto your back and hummed softly when he pressed his lips over yours, nuzzling your nose with his while you kept grumbling with annoyance. “It snowed last night.”

“It’s Massachusetts in winter, that’s what it does.” You sighed when he wrapped his arms around you and nipped at your throat, your legs winding around his hips instinctively as he kept bringing you closer to full consciousness.

“I know, but it’s beautiful, and I thought maybe you’d want to take the furry idiots out for a walk with me.” He sat up slowly and pulled you with him, cooing into your ear when you groaned and stayed tightly wrapped around him as he walked towards the closet. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you have some caffeine first. You’re such a grinch in the morning.”

“Ugh fine.” You let him set you on the dresser and press a kiss to your forehead before he moved to grab you some clothes, rubbing your eyes and yawning as you fought a smile while you watched the dog bounce around after hearing Ransom say walk. “You’re lucky you’re all so damn adorable or I wouldn’t put up with this shit on a weekend.”

Turns out, the cat was not a fan of the snow, taking three steps out the front door then turning around and screaming at you before running back inside as the dog tried to coax her out to play. She refused to move, though, crawling into the tightest corner of her cat tree and grumbling at you when you peeked in at her to maybe put her in the chest carrier.

So it was just you and the dog and the boy toy walking through the fresh fallen snow, Ransom’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist as the two of you huddled together for warmth while the dog pranced around happily. Even though you had been cranky when you woke up, you were in a good mood now, smiling when Ransom pressed his lips to your temple as you strolled slowly through the woods. You didn’t feel the need to talk at all, your breath mingling in a warm fog in the air as the two of you just enjoyed each other’s company and the calm silence of the fresh snow.

It was surprising that neither of you were feeling the chill much but the time you had looped back to the house an hour later, but you were so wrapped up and lost in each other, you couldn’t feel anything except warm. Ransom beamed at you when you stopped under the large maple tree, rubbing his chilled nose over yours and holding you close to his chest as he breathed deeply.

“What d’you say we light a fire and drink some eggnog?” Ransom squeezed you a little tighter and pecked at your lips when you hummed softly into his mouth. “We’ve got that special bourbon Ari got us, wanna snuggle you some.”

“You are the sappiest of all the saps.” You grinned when he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Fine softie, let’s find the dog and then cuddle as much as you want. Fionn!”

You separated reluctantly and started calling for your dopey golden as you wandered around the yard, keeping an eye on each other and for the furry dumbass. But you couldn’t stop watching Ransom, he looked so good with his bright eyes and his cheeks and nose flushed red from the cold air. And when he got all cute and domestic like this, you just wanted to wreck the man. You were so in love with him, it was stupid.

He took his eyes off you for a second, and you couldn’t help it. Ransom shouted when the snowball collided with the back of his head, whipping around and glaring at you while you just gave him an innocent shrug.

“Don’t you start something you can’t finish.” He shook his head when you bent to scoop up more snow, edging away from you slowly while you grinned wickedly at him. “I’m not gonna go easy on you.”

“Good.” You packed the snow together as Ransom moved to grab his own snowball. “I’ll still kick your ass.”

You hit him square in the chest before he even finished packing, running away from him with a laugh and dodging his attempt to hit you as he let out a curse. Somehow he always forgot how quick you were, lobbing snowball after snowball at you and only hitting you a few times while you just kept pelting him over and over.

“Goddamn it.” He huffed when you hit him in the shoulder again, growling when his next shot just glanced off your side and you nailed him in the stomach. “How are you always so good at this shit?””

“You always forget about my sporty days.” You hit him again and yelped when he managed to get you in the hip. “Softball.”

“That’s right, you were such a cute little jock, ow!” He scowled at you when you nailed him in the side of the head, trying and failing to hit you in the back when you ran away from him. “Shortstop, right?”

“That’s right, ha!” You laughed when you caught him in the chest again, the snow spraying him in the face and making him wince. “Didn’t you play baseball? You suck at this.”

“I don’t… damn it!” You hit him again and he huffed with frustration. “That’s it!”

He grumbled to himself as he packed an extra large snowball, managing to dodge the few you heaved at him with a triumphant smirk. The dog finally trotting back into the yard distracted you enough to give him the opportunity to get you good, hitting you square in the face and letting out a victorious whoop. At least until you clutched your nose and bent over in pain.

“Ow, fuck!” Your cry had Ransom rushing towards you in a panic, concern written all over his face.

“Baby, shit!” He reached out and gripped your shoulders when he reached you, pulling you close when you just let out a small whimper of pain and cursing himself. “I’m so sorry, are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You pulled your hand away from your face and grinned at him. “I’m great.”

He didn’t have a chance to ask what happened before you were pulling a snowball from behind your back and shoving it down the front of his pants with glee, cackling when you dodged out of his grip and ran away from him.

“You bitch! It’s in my underwear!” He sprinted after you and tried to fight the almost painful cold that was spreading through his crotch, trying to act mad but you were so damn cute when you got all playful like this, he couldn’t really. “Get back here!”

It was only a minute or so before he caught you, picking you up and throwing you into a snowbank as you let out a delighted shriek. He only had a moment to enjoy his victory though, the dog bounding up to him and ignoring his admonishments to pounce on him and drive him into the same snow drift as he wagged his tail happily and you laughed at him.

“Ok, let’s get inside and dry off.” You helped him out of the snow bank and giggled when he shook snow all over you. “Told you I’d kick your ass.”

“That was mostly the dog.” Ransom grinned at you as he followed you inside, letting the dog into the mud room then helping you start to pull off your layers with a kiss to the forehead.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You turned around and hummed when he wound his arms around you and dragged off your coat. “Don’t get any ideas, I’m freezing.”

“Yeah, I’m freezing too.” He bit your ear until you shoved him off with a grin. “Know part of you that’s gonna be nice and warm and wet, though.”

“No, Hugh, no!!” You finally got down to your long underwear and ran away from him with a laugh as he growled and barked playfully at you. “Keep your popsicle dick away from my vagina!”

#natalie writes #ninja and puppy #ransom drysdale #ransom otp #ninja and puppy’s first christmas #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom x you #ransom drysdale au #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans #chris evans character #eighteen plus