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eregyrn-falls-art · 4 months

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Went down to Woods Hole, MA, on Cape Code, for brunch on Sunday. Afterwards poked around Woods Hole and Falmouth; and I wanted to see Nobska Light while we were there. While chilly and windy, we were still feeling the benefits of the warm weekend, and had to bundle up less than you'd expect for a trip to the Cape in February.

Nobska Light is very cute and scenic! It wasn't open, and while the Keeper's house seems to have been renovated and is planned to be a maritime museum, it wasn't open either. On the other side of the road was a short path to the cliff above the ocean (really, Vineyard Sound), where we looked out at Martha's Vineyard to the east, and the Elizabeth Islands chain to the west. Birds spotted: common eiders, red breasted mergansers, and a long-tailed duck drake came flying in.

Here's the text of the historical sign:

NOBSKA LIGHTHOUSE Latitude 41 30' 54" N Longitude 70 39' 20" Since 1828, Nobska Light has provided a familiar beacon for "all who go down to the sea in ships". 67 feet above sea level, Nobska's flash every six seconds is visible 17 miles out to sea. This 28,000 candlepower light used a 1000-watt lamp magnified by a Fourth Order Fresnel lens. The red section visible ton the east side of the lantern house warns ships away from Hedge Fence and L'Hommedieu Shoals south of the Cape. The present tower is 42 feelt high and was constructed in 1876. It was built to replace the original "Nobsque" light, a stone cottage with a light tower on top which had stood since 1828. The present tower is made of a cast iron shell lined with brick. It was built in Chelsea, Massachusetts and transported to Cape Cod in four sections. The front half of the current "keeper's house" was also built in 1876. Originally painted dark maroon-brown, it had a covered walkway to the tower attacked in 1899 and a second "assistant keeper's house" added in 1907. [Note: see bottom-right photo above.] Over the year, windows, doors, porches and walkways have come and gone and the color has been changed to the classic Coast Guard white with red roof. [Note: this sign is now out of date; the keeper's house is no longer white, although it still has its red roof; it is now covered in cedar shingles, which have weathered to a grey color.] Nobska Light became part of the Coast Guard in 1939, when the U.S. Light House Service merged with the Coast Guard. Despite this change, the keepers of the light remained civilians until Mr. Hindley retired in 1973, when active duty Coast Guard keepers took up the duty. In 1983, Nobska Light was automated. The two keepers houses were joined and became the quarters for Commander Coast Guard Group Woods Hole and his family. The Woods Hole Group serves the mainland and islands from Plymouth, Massachusetts to the Rhode Island/Connecticut state line.

Older photos above and some information came from:

The Enterprise, Falmouth: "History of Nobska Light Sheds Light on More Than Navigation" (July 15, 2015)

New England Lighthouses: A Virtual Guide. History of Nobska Point Light, Woods Hole, Massachusetts

Friends of Nobska Light

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#lighthouses #cape cod #woods hole ma #nobska point light #my photos #ids in alt

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ltwilliammowett · 5 months

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Two red port lanterns with Fresnel glass reflectors, 19th century

#naval artifacts #port lights #19th century #age of sail #ship lanterns #fresnel lens

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graveyardrabbit · 3 months

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Point Cabrillo Light, Mendocino

#my photos #California #Mendocino #Point Cabrillo #Point Cabrillo Light Station #Point Cabrillo Lighthouse #sorry to everyone the inundation of pics from Sunday will continue #lighthouse #fresnel lens

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rabbitcruiser · 2 years

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Pigeon Point Lighthouse’s Fresnel lens was first lit at sunset, November 15, 1872

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aziraphales-library · 10 months

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Hello Mods, I was wondering if you had any fantasy ineffable wives fics? Ive been trying to find a good one but the ones I find are mostly one-shots. Much thanks!

Hi! Here are some ineffable wives fantasy fics...

Meeting at the Seaside by comicgeekery (M)

Toni Crowley decided to have a picnic and read at the beach. Little did she suspect that would soon find a magical creature, more beautiful than her wildest dreams!

Salt on Her Skin by syrupfactory (M)

As a mermaid and a sea serpent, Aziraphale and Crowley are technically on opposite sides of a centuries-long debate for oceanic society. Serpents regularly attack human ships, viewing them as trespassers, while mermaids take a more peaceful and passive approach. Secretly working together, the two of them find a friendship like they’ve never had before ... but it’s a partnership that grows increasingly risky.

A Light to Guide You Home by saretton (E)

It's the last hour of the night, just before the break of dawn. The Fresnel lens keeps rotating in the lantern atop the tower, its beam circling round and round, with no big ship in sight. The sea is flat like a wooden plank; a few fishing boats, tiny, dark outlines against the deep blue horizon provide welcome and quiet company in the night. Aziraphale listens to the repeated hum rising and enveloping her, a lullaby coming from the depths; and she drifts gently off to sleep, right there, cradled by liquid hands. --- An Ineffable Wives Lighthouse AU.

I’m Your Landsailor by IneffableDoll (T)

In a small seaside town called Tadfield, one of the last places on Earth where humans and magic coexist, an exiled selkie and a human who ran away from her life accidentally get themselves married in the oldest, most binding sense. The two are forced to stay together until they can find a way to undo it and free the other from their accidental marriage. It sure would be complicated if they started to fall for each other in the process…

The Princess and the Librarian by die_traumerei (E)

Set in a fantasy-ish AU: a kind of neo-Romantic pseudo-medieval setting. Very pseudo. Crowley meets the castle's new Librarian when she yanks Crowley out of the rain. She fall in love about twenty seconds later, as you do. Aziraphale meets the Princess when she discovers a half-drowned woman outside of her library. She's pretty sure Crowley has better things to do with her time, but isn't going to give up the chance to be friends with her. What happens when two people who are both a little bit broken meet, and are brave enough to become friends, and then fall in love? Well, a lot of cuddling and reading aloud and adventures tramping through the woods, for one thing. Also, maybe, finding home, and acceptance, and a fierce champion to help you take your place in the world, knowing you matter.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable wives #fantasy au #adult omens #mod d

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 4 months

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you're so right but also....could you show a picture of the lighthouse? sounds cool asf. :) Hope you're having a nice day!

Yeh sure! I love it, it's about 2 feet tall and took maybe 12ish hours to put together, lots of details. The light rotates and it has a teeny little fresnel lens so it actually concentrates light like a real lighthouse - tried to get a video but you can't really see that unless it's dark and my kitchen windows let too much light in.

If you like building Legos at all I recommend it, it looks even better in person and there's a hidden cave on the side with a treasure chest that hides the lever to turn the light on. I'm trying to find minifig parts at flea markets and the like to mod the figures to look like Ed and Stede, but for right now they look like...that.

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thehistoriangirl · 6 months

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The Tides Have Veiled [Second Interlude]

The second arc of the story comes to an end with this part :3 I'm still not 100% sure, but I think this fic will have other four arcs Thank you all for reading this story! Hope you like it! ^^

Viktor x Fem!Reader/Gothic AU; Haunted Sea---1.4K----SFW**

> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis: Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.

Chapter Summary: There were three times when the beach of Piltover the Old got stained with blood during your lifetime. This is the first one.

Taglist: @lunar-monster @local-mr-frog @bittercyder @blissfulip

Interlude II: The Crimson Tide

As soon as you enter the lighthouse, you know Viktor isn’t there.

It feels empty when you call his name. The walls newly painted echo the sound of your voice back to your ears without an answer; your footsteps, however, are absorbed by the wooden steps when you decide to climb toward the beacon room, the keys jingling in your hands, still cold from your father’s grip on them.

The open windows carry the salty marine breeze, some hairs prickling your forehead as you get near the balcony where a chair is put against the wall with a book atop the seat.

Nosy, you peek at the worn-out dark blue cover, the words Marine Legends almost erased.

Looking at the coast, you see him. He’s like a painting now—probably all the time, but today it remembers you of those seascapes hanging on the overly decorated foyers from all those wealthy people hosting parties in the city.

There are too many seas today: a sky icy blue, like the frozen surface of a rippling lake with the clouds streaked in harmonious lines across it, and the navy blue of the sea that sways in gentle waves. And in between all, there is Viktor, sitting in a formation of rocks by the cliffside.

Your stomach churns, almost like a sensation of vertigo pulling you toward the rail, down to the sea. You don’t want to get close to it, but you doubt Viktor will be returning soon to the lighthouse as it’s just past noon.

Also, your father told you to return soon, as you must get ready for a soirée.

Back at his studio, your eyes were glued to his stern face, the handsomeness of his youth washed by the ferocious sun in the middle of the sea, by the cold breeze continuously hitting his face, by the scars some mermaids got to draw on his flesh before he carved his own.

Your hands were interlocked against your stomach, wanting to stop a sudden wave of nausea. “Luna told me I wasn’t invited to dinner tonight.” Mr. Fresnel could frighten with your air of perpetual melancholy and the intense gaze you bear, just like your mother’s. Or even worse, he could take a liking to you and go crazy, she had said with her blank expression, knowing-it-all, supposedly.

Gavin clicked his tongue. “You know you shouldn’t mind her comments—you and Astraia are equally my daughters,” he says, his light eyes glued to your face, pulling your back straight. “No matter what everyone says.”

You felt the twitch of your nose—words stuck that run across your mind in disdain.

Daughter? Only when you see fit. When you need my face to distract a man long enough to sign a paper to give you money.

“Mr. Fresnel is a gentleman, with all that privileged education in the newly built city,” Gavin continued, as if sensing your disgust. “It’s a wonder that a man like him still believes in the miracles coming from the sea.”

He wouldn’t be the first one, not after all the dozens coming from poor coastal towns to Piltover to harvest all the riches of the sea, and all its mysteries. Now, the desolated, wild coast was scattered by huts and docks with fishing boats gently swaying against the waves.

The magic had gone away, and everything was his fault.

Gavin pointed at you, the golden marriage band in his hand twin to the one in the other that is scribbling away. The sight makes you want to yank the older band apart from him. Bold of him to think he deserves the memory of his previous marriage after Gavin left all the things of your mother to burn. "Don't disappoint me."

He held your gaze, the air heavy. Don’t disappoint me even more, hangs in the silence.

Taking deep breaths, you make your descent toward the beach, gripping the keys so hard it’s a miracle your hands aren’t bleeding.

It’s a beautiful day, but now you can only focus on the way the sand pushes your feet under, how the long skirt tangles around your legs like a net, with the roar of the waves growing closer, calling you, demanding you to submit to them just like your mother did. That it’s the only way you could be free.

“Miss,” Viktor says, your eyes darting away from the waves toward his face, chestnut locks of hair glued to his forehead thanks to the humid ambiance. “What do I owe your presence?”

“I came to give you the spare keys.” You swallow hard, feet walking toward the shallow end of the beach, stepping over broken shells and wet sand, almost as if it would devour you. “My father told me to tell you not to lose them again, or you’ll have to pay for the duplicate.”

He brushes his cold fingers against yours when he takes the keys, stuffing them in the breast pocket of his shirt. “I won’t, don’t worry. It was… eh, an… accident.” His cheeks look dusted in pink, and you have to look away.

“Well, it’s fine. I… I think I’ll go now,” you say awkwardly, your stiff hand waving him goodbye.

“Miss, wait,” Viktor calls. He can’t get down the rocks so easily, between the slippery surface and his cane, so you relent and come back to him. “I… I wanted to give you something I’ve found.”

“Oh?”

“It-it’s something I think it’s pretty and… eh, maybe you might like it, perhaps?” All red cheeks and avoiding eyes, Viktor puts a shell the size of your palm from behind his back, bright pink, and orange in stripe spirals.

It feels like being hit in the stomach, bathed in freezing water during winter. You look at the shell, feeling a pull down your insides, down toward the sea.

“You don’t like it. I should’ve known it,” Viktor mutters, clearing his throat as his fist closes around the shell. “You don’t like the sea, you probably don’t like things that come from the sea, either.” He chuckles, trying to hide his nervousness. “Of course.”

“I like the sea.” I’m just scared of it.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Miss,” Viktor says, his golden eyes filled with resolution.

“I’m not lying,” you mumble, closing your eyes when you see his brows furrow. “I just… I hear the screams, Viktor.” Your arms tangle around yourself in a makeshift hug, trying to hide you from his gaze, from this sea that whispers your name in each wave rolling against the beach. “I hear their screams.”

His inquisitive expression morphs into surprise, and you're filled with regret. Why did you say that? He's going to think you're out of your mind, and perhaps he wouldn’t be wrong—if he’d say it, then Gavin and Luna would be right. You don't want to know what you'd do if that's the case.

"You saw it," Viktor says instead, his tone soft and barely audible, making you lean closer to him, ignoring how the water has started to soak the edge of your skirt. “How the waves turned red.”

“I did." The words are stuck in your throat, and you don't really know how long you were expecting to let it out. Since the death of your mother? Or was it since the first time you saw it? Just an innocent child gazing at the yellow sand turned red with splashes of blood, ears filled with wails of agony. “I did.”

Viktor's thumb rests over his chin, deep in thought. "But they don't come here anymore. They know, now.” He looks at you. “Do you fear them?”

Yes, you want to say. Yes, I do. But you don’t, not really. You're the daughter of your father and mother, after all, and they didn't find them threatening at all, for better, or for worse.

You understand them—how they were used to fulfill stranger’s desires, tossed aside when they weren’t needed anymore. How they retaliated, with sharp teeth and murder songs, unbridled magic and purposeful.

You want to be like them.

“How do you know about the mermaids?” you ask instead, the image of the marine legends’ book in the beacon coming back to you. “Do you like mermaids?”

Viktor looks toward the sea. “I find them fascinating. They were the reason behind the sudden blooming of this town, and now, they’re behind its downfall. It’s… poetic, in a way.”

You chuckle despite yourself. All these years you can't hate the men working under your father’s thumb, they had families to feed, vices to fulfill. But your father? He has no excuse. No exit.

“Yes. I suppose it was only a matter of time.” You can’t trample with powers you don’t understand, at least not for very long.

“A matter of justice, one might say,” he adds with a slight smile. “Then, would you like to keep the shell? Or… eh, maybe it’s not of your liking?” Viktor extends the shell toward you. “You can hear the sea from here, and there will be no screams. I promise.”

It's your turn to feel flustered, lips curved in a smile. This time, your fingers are the ones brushing his palm when you take the shell in your grasp, smooth and warm, heavier than it looked.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Viktor,” you say. “I’ll give you something back soon.”

He chuckles. “There’s no need. I’m not giving you this for you to feel indebted.”

Habits are hard to change, you assume but prefer not to tell him that. At least, not yet.

“I’ll let you go now,” Viktor adds once you don’t say anything. “But I hope I will see you soon, Miss.”

“Me too,” you smile, tucking the shell in the inner pocket of your coat as you wave him goodbye, striding up the hill.

Midway through it, you see the outline of a person waiting for you at the top.

“Astraia," you say, hating the slight pain in your voice from climbing so fast. You don’t stop, however.

"You shouldn't behave like that," your sister says, hands taking fists off her dress to avoid it getting dirty. “What will father and mother think if they see you like that with the keeper? It would ruin your reputation.”

As if I have one. “I don’t care.” You’re an oddity, the child of a crazy woman who may be just as crazy, why does it matter? To keep a false image of yourself that will get washed away? “And you shouldn’t either. Focus on your debut, Astraia.” You look at your younger sister’s pristine hair and fawn-like eyes, so, so naïve.

She says your name, but you don’t care. You just can’t care anymore. “What did he give you?”

“Mind your business—”

“If it’s a shell, you know you have to throw it away!” she cuts you off, taking you by the shoulders. “They’re dangerous, you can’t keep them close to you. They… they attract monsters.”

Your jaw feels tense, if it’s for anger or frustration, you don’t know.

“I’m already surrounded by monsters, Astraia, my dear,” you say coldly. Your words freeze her, and you push her hands away, walking toward the house whose entrance looks like an open mouth ready to swallow you whole. “Just... let me alone.”

From the Diary of Astraia Galvin.

Dear Diary,

Today marks one month since my sister hugged me. Since she talked to me. I didn’t think that when she told me that now she was dead to me, she’d mean it. I’m like a stranger to her. She feels cold and aloof like a ghost roaming our shared floor. I wish I knew how to amend it—where did I do something wrong? I only wanted to protect her. Sometimes, I want to go to the ocean and dig up that shell I throw away, but the ocean is forbidden and dangerous. I know I’d die if I ever set foot in it. But what if death is the price I have to pay to earn my sister's forgiveness? Could she be that cruel? I don't believe Mother. She loves me. She has loved me ever since I have a memory. What changed? Was it me? Her? I want to go back to those days when I could lay on her bed while she told me a story about the sea, to wake her up in the middle of the night and both tiptoe down the stairs to prepare hot chocolate because the nightmares wouldn’t end. I want her with me, and I don’t know what to do to cross the rift created between us two. No, when the abyss that separates us is filled with black-ink water that smells like death and magic. Today is raining and she isn’t here; I don’t want her to do something she will regret, as I don’t wish for her the pain that now consumes me like the candle on my desk, almost out and without her returning from the lighthouse. I don’t want the sea to take her. I don’t want the mermaids to claim her. Dear Diary, I only want her to be free. For us to be free. But… I don’t know how much we’ll have to pay for that to become true. And I’m too scared to find out.

#viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #arcane fanfic #viktor fanfic #viktor arcane x you #arcane viktor x you #viktor x you #arcane viktor x fem! reader #viktor arcane x f!reader #arcane x female reader

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