#northern deceit

[lokabrenna13]

Good morning! This week's rune is Ansuz (reversed)!

Ansuz is the god rune -- the rune of breath, intellect, learning, communication, language, speech/voice, and inspiration. In the reversed position, Ansuz indicates misunderstanding, manipulation, deceit, and stifled or lack of communication. The word "discernment" came to mind. After all, communication could be stifled this week, and misunderstandings are likely. Being more discerning about what you say and how you react to what others say will be beneficial to communication this week. Some of you may deal with those who aren't (and haven't been) entirely honest with you about about the their interest. When receiving information, verify and cross-reference a bit more than usual.

#runes #runepull #runereading #runevideo #divination #ansuz #ansuzreversed #runevideo #runeoftheweek #miscommunication #manipulation #misunderstanding #deceit #pagan #northerntradition #norsepagan #futhark #elderfuthark

#pagan #northern tradition #northern tradition pagan #norse runes #rune readings #rune divination #divination #rune set #rune casting #ansuz #ansuz reversed #miscommunication #misunderstandings #deceit #manipulation #elder futhark #futhark

[paishowhitelotus]

Rewatched book 1 after watching the live action and here is a list of everything that wasn’t in the live action that I think should have been :

Sokkas war paint

Saying the words “hair loopies”

Barely seeing the boomerang

Katara being able to calm down aang during the avatar state

The comet

Importance of mastering all 4 elements

Sokka dressing in kyoshi warrior clothing and learning the strength of women (removing and growing from his sexist beliefs)

Zukos honor /destiny (think it’s mentioned once?)

Mouthfoaming guy

Aang water bending

Roku manifesting and telling jeong jeong to teach aang firebending

Aang trying fire bending too soon and burning katara which leads to him being hesitant on learning firebending in book 3

Katara finding out about her healing abilities

Aang being selfish by keeping location of Sokka and kataras father from them

Aangs crush on katara

Aang doing everything he Can to heal his friends in the swamp

"Miyuki, did you get in trouble with Fire Nation again?”

Rokus dragon

Aang dealing with the guilt of leaving the southern air temple and all his people getting killed and not accepting his role as avatar

Sokkas intuition for recognizing Jets deceit

Sokka being a natural inventor (it’s barely even touched in the live action) Sokka is smart and creative

Katara’s dedication to learning water bending by stealing the scroll

Katara’s jealousy of aang being able to bend and learn faster than her

Kataras fierce determination and her take no shit personality

The cruelty of the fire nation by imprisoning earth benders into work camps (this is just one example)

Katara’s selflessness and bravery by getting herself imprisoned in the war camp and saving all the prisoners shows how much empathy Katara feels for people and always wanting to help those who can’t help themselves

Showing how master jeong jeong and others left the fire nations army because of its cruelty (fire nation people can be good and recognize the evil in their own ranks)

How aang feels upset about the disrespect and condition of the northern air temple/legacy of his people but accepts it in the end knowing they need this temple as their home

Using the fallen war balloon to create a fleet of airships in the final battle with Ozai

Appa being a badass and also fighting to protect aang multiple times

Iroh and his white lotus tile (this is important foreshadowing for later seasons)

The healer in the northern water tribe recognizing the betrothal necklace and realizing it belonged to her friend and kataras grandmother, kanna, who was engaged to master pakku of the northern tribe but left to live in the South Pole

Katara confronting pakku and telling him “I’ll be outside if you’re man enough to fight me” ( the challenge is off screen in live action, dumb choice tbh just glad we got to see the physical fight at least)

Pakku finding the betrothal necklace and talking about kanna and katara saying her gran left because “she wouldn’t let your stupid tribes customs control her life” which in turn makes pakku reconsider and start teaching katara waterbending

Pakku complementing kataras skill saying she’s has advanced faster than any other student he has trained (this shows how great and powerful of a water bender she truly is)

How strong the water benders are at night especially during the full moon

How the moon was the first water bender

Zuko kidnapping aangs body while he is in the spirit world

“You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun”

Not showing emotion to koh cause he’ll steal your face

Zuko talking to unconscious aang telling him how everything always came easy to his sister, she’s a firebending prodigy. Ozai telling Zuko that azula was “born lucky while Zuko was lucky to be born” (another instance of ozai’s cruelty as a father)

Talking about how iroh has been to the Spirit world

Zuko trying to challenge katara during a FULL MOON” “Here for a rematch?” “Trust me Zuko it’s not going to be much of a match” and then her kicking his ass in 5 seconds

Aang showing compassion to Zuko by saving him again despite Zuko kidnapping his body

Iroh staying with katara Sokka and yue after the moon spirit is killed (this shows his heart)

Yues body disappearing and her spirit kissing Sokka and her saying “I’ll always be with you”

The ocean spirit grabbing zhao and dragging him into the sea

Pakku wanting to help rebuild the southern water tribe

Pakku Calling her Master katara and saying she’ll train aang from now on

Azula appearing at the end and Ozai sending her on a task because Zuko is a failure and iroh is a traitor

#if something that is listed here was shown then oops my bad g #avatar the last airbender #atla #aang #katara #sokka #zuko #azula #ozai #fire lord ozai #iroh #zhao #netflix avatar #natla

[probablyasocialecologist]

Degrowth basics

"The word degrowth stands for a family of political-economic approaches that, in the face of today’s accelerating planetary ecological crisis, reject unlimited, exponential economic growth as the definition of human progress."

What is Degrowth? | Caracol DSA

Why degrowth is the only responsible way forward | OpenDemocracy

Degrowth and MMT: A thought experiment

We Need A Fair Way To End Infinite Growth | Current Affairs

Degrowth: A Call for Radical Abundance | Common Dreams

Can degrowth save us and the planet? | Nottingham Trent

Defending limits is not Malthusian | Undisciplined Environments

Can We Have Prosperity Without Growth? | New Yorker

The Urgent Case for Shrinking the Economy | The New Republic

Giving Up on Economic Growth Could Make Us Cooler and Happier | The New Republic

A guide to degrowth: The movement prioritizing wellbeing in a bid to avoid climate cataclysm | CNBC

What is ‘degrowth’ and how can it fight climate change? | Popular Science

Enough for Everyone | Yes! Magazine

Toward a Post-Capitalist Future: On the Growth of “Degrowth” | Lit Hub

All we are saying is give degrowth a chance | The RSA

A pathway out of environmental collapse | newsroom

On Technology and Degrowth | Monthly Review

What is degrowth (and more importantly, what is it not)? | META

Green growth

"There is no empirical evidence that absolute decoupling from resource use can be achieved on a global scale against a background of continued economic growth."

Is Green Growth Possible? | Jason Hickel & Giorgos Kallis

The Myth of America’s Green Growth | Foreign Policy

The decoupling delusion: rethinking growth and sustainability | The Conversation

Is green growth happening? | Uneven Earth

Green Growth | Uneven Earth

The Delusion of Infinite Economic Growth | Scientific American

Degrowth is not austerity – it is actually just the opposite | Al Jazeera

A response to Paul Krugman: Growth is not as green as you might think | Timothée Parrique

Deceitful Decoupling: Misconceptions of a Persistent Myth | Alevgul H. Sorman

Degrowth isn’t the same as a recession – it’s an alternative to growing the economy forever | The Conversation

Degrowth and the left

"In the middle of an ecological emergency, should we be producing sport utility vehicles and mansions? Should we be diverting energy to support the obscene consumption and accumulation of the ruling class?"

The Left should embrace degrowth | New Internationalist

Ecosocialism is the Horizon, Degrowth is the Way | The Trouble

Degrowth: Socialism without Growth | Brave New Europe

Toward an Ecosocialist Degrowth: From the Materially Inevitable to the Socially Desirable | Monthly Review

For an Ecosocialist Degrowth | Monthly Review

Degrowth and Revolutionary Organizing | Rosa Luxemburg NYC

The necessity of ecosocialist degrowth | Rupture

Degrowth is Anti-Capitalist | Protean Mag

Degrowth Communism | PPPR (Part one | Part two | Part three)

Economic Planning and Degrowth: How Socialism Survives the 21st Century | New Socialist

Degrowth and the South

"Southern countries should be free to organize their resources and labor around meeting human needs rather than around servicing Northern growth."

Who is afraid of degrowth? A Global South economic perspective | IBON Foundation

The anti-colonial politics of degrowth | Jason Hickel

Unlearning: From Degrowth to Decolonization | Rosa Luxemburg NYC

Degrowth requires the Global South to default on its foreign debts | Resilience

Journals/Reports

Degrowth: a theory of radical abundance | Jason Hickel

A systematic review of the evidence on decoupling of GDP, resource use and GHG emissions, part II: synthesizing the insights

What does degrowth mean? A few points of clarification | Jason Hickel

Providing decent living with minimum energy: A global scenario | Global Environmental Change

Urgent need for post-growth climate mitigation scenarios | Nature Energy

Degrowth and critical agrarian studies | Julien-François Gerber

Decoupling debunked – Evidence and arguments against green growth as a sole strategy for sustainability | European Environmental Bureau

Incrementum ad Absurdum: Global Growth, Inequality and Poverty Eradication in a Carbon-Constrained World | David Woodward

Degrowth can work — here’s how science can help | Nature

A New Political Economy for a Healthy Planet | Jason Hickel

Planning beyond growth. The case for economic democracy within limits

Millionaire spending incompatible with 1.5 °C ambitions | Cleaner Production Letters

Is green growth happening? An empirical analysis of achieved versus Paris-compliant CO2–GDP decoupling in high-income countries | The Lancet

Books

Exploring Degrowth: A Critical Guide | Pluto Press

A People's Green New Deal | Max Ajl

Less is More: How Degrowth Will Save the World | Jason Hickel

Breaking Things at Work: The Luddites Are Right About Why You Hate Your Job | Verso Books

The Future is Degrowth: A Guide to a World Beyond Capitalism | Verso Books

The Imperial Mode of Living: Everyday Life and the Ecological Crisis of Capitalism | Verso Books

Marx in the Anthropocene: Towards the Idea of Degrowth Communism | Kohei Saito

Degrowth & Strategy: how to bring about social-ecological transformation

27 Essays and Thoughts on Degrowth | Giorgos Kallis

Videos

Yes To Limits To Growth! | The Other School

How Degrowth Can Save the World | Andrewism

How We End Consumerism | Our Changing Climate

Demystifying Degrowth | Rosa Luxemburg NYC

Degrowth is not Austerity | John the Duncan

Degrowth and Ecosocialism | Planet: Critical

Degrowth in 7 minutes: Fighting for climate by living better | Think That Through

The Future is Degrowth (w/ Aaron Vansintjan) || SRSLY WRONG

"Degrowth means power to the working class!"with Jason Hickel | GND Media

Others

degrowth.info

Degrowth Journal

Doughnut Economics

#degrowth #green growth #postgrowth #ecosocialism #solarpunk #i'll update this as i go

[danytherelentless]

A Heartfelt Goodbye

Eddard Stark x fem!reader

summary: after his wife's recent passing, Lord Stark is looking for a governess to raise his children

warnings! smut, cunniligus, p in v, pre-marital sex (big deal in Westeros), asoiaf typical sexism (if you squint)

word count: 3k

note: please forgive me if there are any mistakes or it appears a little disjointed, the editing was shaky at best

It was more than a year after the loss of his wife that he decided to take on a governess for his children.

He had refused marriage so soon after, and did not think he would ever take a wife again, and had not wanted to have a governess raise his children for it felt an insult to Cat, yet Maester Luwin had been advising him that his children would need such guidance in their lives, especially with them all being so young, and Eddard had finally relented.

He mulled over the options of Northern ladies for some time before deciding upon you. He'd never met you before, but he had known your father, brothers and some of your cousins. Your father had been one of his greatest and truest advisors during Robert's Rebellion, your elder brother one of his friends as well, and he remembers hearing much of you then, though you'd been younger at the time. Patient, caring and wise as a child. Surely you remained so as an adult? You were also unmarried which meant you had no other obligations nor children of your own to tend to. So he sent the letter to your Lord father asking if you would be suited and able to fill such a position in his household.

He received response soon enough and it was settled upon that you would be arriving to Winterfell within the next few weeks.

Your smile was the first thing he noticed upon meeting you, a kind and gentle thing which warmed him to you almost immediately.

"My Lord," you greeted with a curtsy after you had dismounted to stand next to your father and brother who had led you here.

"My Lady. I am thankful you have taken upon this position."

"It is a great honour, my lord. One I hope I shall be able to fulfil."

Robb was the most reluctant of his children to you, though that was expected and understandable as the eldest. His youngest three, however, were instantly enamoured with you, even baby Bran. But it was Jon which made him realise you were perfect for the role whom you treated well as any of his other children.

It took some time of course for the new dynamic to settle, for you to become comfortable with his children and vise-versa, but eventually, even Robb warmed to you. Even Ned himself found that he enjoyed your company. You had to ability to always make him feel at ease or give him the perfect advice for whatever situation he was put in.

He began to fall for you, which felt inevitable given how lovely you were. But he could not help the vicious guilt which he felt. It felt wrong, no matter how much time passed since Cat's passing, it still felt like a great insult to her memory, and to your own honour, though he never acted on his own feelings.

At least not until Robert called upon him when Balon Greyjoy rebelled against the crown.

He sat in the Godswood, the night before he would leave in contemplation. Many of his bannerman had gathered already at Winterfell with more on their way straight to White Harbour. He did not want to die so soon, though that was something he expected just as he had during Robert's Rebellion when he rode away from Riverrun, yet this time it felt so much closer to him. He couldn't bare the thought of Robb being made Lord so young, of his grief. Of the struggle and strife which he would face and the deceit he would no doubt face in spite of his youth. The idea of his little lady Sansa, or his wild little she-wolf Arya not remembering his face as they grew. Of baby Bram not having so much as a memory of him to place to his name.

He thought of you, of never seeing you again, of never confessing the feelings held within his heart. Though his guilt remained to an extent not as it once had, the idea of never getting to tell you made his heart ache something fierce. It overwhelmed any guilt he was feeling.

"My lord," your voice snapped him from his glum pondering.

"My lady. The hour is quite late, the air cold," he could barely see you in the darkness, the only light emitting from the lantern in your hand and the one sitting near his feet.

"I was worried for you," you confessed.

It was a normal thing to worry about. He was beneath no assumption that you felt the same as he, but he knew that you viewed him as a friend for you often spent hours drinking, exchanging stories and laughing well into late evenings together. So much so that he’d had to quietly had to expel rumours amongst the staff to the best of his ability, hoping you had not heard of them. He knew that it was a sign of the impropriety of your relationship, but he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.

"I'll be back soon enough," he found himself reassuring you.

He watches as you walk closer to him, "may I sit?"

"Of course," he spoke embarrassingly quickly.

You took your seat on the tangled roots at his side, shivering slightly as you burrowed closer into your cloak.

"You really shouldn't be out here, my lady. You may catch a chill," he voiced his concern.

"And neither should you. What sort of a friend would I be if I allowed you to wallow out here all alone?" there was teasing in your voice. He found a smile growing across his face.

He looked to you then. You looked truly beautiful in the low light of the flickering lanterns, shadows cast across your face. You seemed quite sad, though he could see a longing in your eyes has he stared at you.

He felt something get trapped in his throat, unable to say anything as he looked upon you. There was a vulnerability which always clung to you, in the way you smiled so freely, the way you spoke so kindly and could be so forgiving. He saw that in you now. Something raw. He craved it, craved you, craved you near him, in his arms. He felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach.

He craved you, completely and utterly. Entirely vulnerable, bare flesh beneath him, moaning for him. His name, not his title, he loved it when you said his name. Not Eddard, just Ned. He wanted to hear it. Now.

He kissed you instead, a hand on your cheek pulling you close to him. Regret flooded him immediately.

"I'm so sorry," he apologised, pulling away, yanking his hand from your flesh, suddenly feeling quite sick. Barely a moment of your lips on his, so sweet and true. The taste turned to ash on his tongue, however.

"That was dishonourable of me, my lady. Forgive me please. I lost myself."

"No," you grabbed at his forearm and moved closer, you leg leaning into his own, "I... I don't mind."

He looks to you then, a goddess at his side. Meant to be worshipped. It was fitting you were both sat beneath a Weirwood tree.

He feels your delicate hand upon his bearded jaw and he allows you to pull him to you, eyes closing as your lips are joined with his.

He can tell you're inexperienced, but he relishes in it. It has been so long since he'd had any company, and he wanted this. With the thought of possible death so close, he could hardly deny himself you, especially if you wanted him too.

He part from you, breathless, "I want you."

He hadn't quite meant to just blurt it out so bluntly, but can't bring himself to want to take it back. It is his truth, after all. And in this moment, it would be wrong for him to not tell you.

You seem shocked for a moment.

"I want you too," you admitted.

His heart stops for a split second before he crashes his mouth back on yours, your tongues tangling together in some dance.

He kisses you for what feels like hours before he remembers you are out in the cold, and then he guides you back to the keep and to your chambers. The walk is silent and you bump into no one, though guards trail you both outside the keep and through some of the hallways.

He is about to part ways with you and leave for his own when you grab his wrist.

"Wait. Why don't you join me?"

Your cheeks are beautifully flushed, and he can hardly refuse such a welcome invitation, though his honour is screaming at him to stop. His desires simply win over, he is a weak man for you.

He undresses you slowly, pulling away your cloak, helping you unlace your dress as you exchange kisses. You help him with his own layers, and soon you are both bare as the day you were born. He looks upon your beauty, across your smooth skin, your breasts, the mound of hair between your legs. He feels his mouth water. He would turn you around and simply sit gazing upon your naked flesh for hours, studying you like a tome of history.

He lays you down upon furs and kisses down your neck, sucking a bruise some too dark into the flesh which he may regret some the next day should he notice, yet he cannot help himself as he listens to your sweet sighs and feels were hands caressing his arms then his chest.

His lips continue down your body, sucking and licking at your breasts and listening to the melodic sounds you bless him with, hands pawing at your thighs as he further parts them. He kisses down you stomach, beneath your bellybutton and then your naval, before finding his place between your legs, eyes upon your cunt, so close to him and oh so delectable.

"What are you..." your sentence is broken by a surprised and quiet moan as his tongue parts your folds and tastes your sweetness. He licks and sucks at you observing each reaction from his place which he could. Every twitch which you body made and every sound which left your lips. Ned took one of your thighs in his hold and brought it up over his shoulder. His nose is buried in the mount of hair above your cunt as he sucks on that bundle he knows will have you see stars.

You moan and gasp, legs tensing around his head and fingers tugging at his dark hair. He cannot help but groan into you, grinding down into your sheets to attempt to relieve the ache in his cock. He resists the urge to fist his cock in hand by instead pushing a finger inside of you, curling it upwards to feel that spongy spot. You are tight and warm and so so wet. He savors every moment of it.

He curls a second finger inside of you, listening to you high keening whimpers and stretches you wider, and then a third.

"Ned!" your fingers tighten and tug harshly at his hair, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels your body tensing as you climax on his fingers. He licks some of it up before he finds himself too impatient to see your face again. He hopes he will be able to do this again so that he may taste you for longer.

You are worn, face etched with sweet ecstasy. He kisses you with your own taste on his tongue, an action which should disgust you, yet you answer with fervour, a laziness to your motions. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you, deepening the kiss even further till your tongue is again in his mouth.

One of your arms caresses down his body as your lips part, your eyes hooded, breathing erratic. Your hand trails over his hip before it wraps around his hard cock.

He thrusts forwards as your fist closes around his tip, jerking downwards experimentally. He wraps his own hand over you guiding it up and down as he would his own in the privacy of his own chambers on lonely nights.

He guides himself within your hand to your cunt, nudging it over your nub, toward your sopping hole.

The thought suddenly hit him hard and fast. So suddenly he jerked back slightly from your touch.

"What... what is it?" you looked concerned, eyes wide, braided hair mussed.

"I shouldn't be doing this, it's wrong." It was dishonourable and an insult to such a fine lady as yourself for him to be debasing you so. You weren't married, after all. Not yet, he thought. He could see you at his side as his wife. But you were not his wife now, and you may never be his wife.

"No, no, no! Please, take me," eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with each breath you take as you tug him down so gently, "if you'll have me?" His chest clenched at such tender words.

With you begging him so sweetly, he could not resist, though there was a part of him still demanding he stop now, for this was wrong. Yet it was drowned by his raging desire which he had harboured for for so long.

He takes his position once more over you, between your thighs, and pushes himself inside of you slowly and carefully. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull at feeling such pleasure, and he nearly thrusts into you as a wild man would, but he resists easily enough for he knew it would cause you harm. He listened as you groaned and your face tugged into a discomforted expression, he felt himself stopping then, ready to pull out should you change you mind.

"Just slowly. Be gentle with me, please," your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, you knees farther parting to allow him better access.

He moves his hips so slowly at first, thrusts shallow and experimental, before his lips captured yours in a passionate flurry of movements. You were so warm, so wet. He knew you were most likely a virgin, a lady such as yourself. That thought only made his feel more hungry for you.

His movements continued as a slow and steady pace, before you whined prettily into his mouth and grabbed at his hip.

"You can move more," you spoke, breathless as he parted from you.

He obliged, building up his pace, pulling one of your legs up and around his waist as his thrusts became deeper and faster with each moan that left you mouth.

He could not tear his eyes away from you, from your sweat slick brow, your squeezed shut eyes and 'o' parted lips. He felt his own release build, but wanted you to finish at least once more for him, so he brought one hand between you and felt for you nub and began to rub at it, listening and watching your reaction as to what was best.

You tightened further around him, legs squeezing at his sides as you came for a second time. He could no sooner hold onto himself and buried his face in your neck and lost himself to you, thrusting without abandon as he chased after his own climax.

He came with a low groan, sucking kisses into your neck, filling you with his seed so deeply that for a moment, he prayed it would take, the thought of seeing you with child so tantalising.

He stayed within you for a few moments, perhaps even minutes, catching his breath and listening to yours.

He presses a tender kiss to your brow before pulling his softened cock from you with a wince. He was unable to look away as he sat up and eventually saw some of jus seed dribble out of you. He had to supress a groan.

"I'm sorry," he eventually broke the silence.

"Whatever for?"

He looked back at you, a goddess much to perfect for someone such as himself, worth more than ten of him, "for dishonouring you, my lady. I would have wed you before bedding you, yet I have not."

"I don't expect you to wed me, my lord," you admitted.

"Please don't call me that now. I have no right to any title after the disservice I have given you," for even thinking of getting her with child.

"You haven't. I wanted to be with you, just as much. I hope you don't think any less of me for it."

"No, I do not."

"Then we are simply two friends having a long and heartfelt goodbye," your smile is sad and small, not one of any joy or happiness.

"Is that all you view me as? Your friend?" he found himself speaking before he could stop, pulling on his underclothes.

"No, no. I... I feel for you. In my heart. I..." you paused and he looked at you, "I have come to love you, Ned. For not only the just and honourable Lord which you are, but for the loving father, and kind man. I enjoy the companionship you have offered me in the time which I have known you, and I have desired more of you for some time now."

He found himself dropping his breeches from hand and returning to your bed where you sat looking at him.

"It is fine should you not feel the same--"

"I do," he interrupted, bringing his hand to your cheek, "I love you."

You leaned into him, smile broadening across your face.

"I will wed you upon my return, my lady. I swear it to you."

He kisses you once more, a deep and long kiss filled with his love, before dressing and bidding you goodnight, feeling wrong to leave you after you had shared something so intimate with him.

Despite himself, despite leaving for war and having bedded you, confessed his love and swore to marry you though he may not even live to see you again after tomorrow, he sleeps well and peacefully that night.

He wed you the same day of his return.

comments are looked upon fondly here so don't be a stranger ;)

(please no negativity, my heart can't take it. I am a delicate soul)

#ned stark x reader #ned stark x you #asoiaf x reader #got x reader #got x you #ned stark #eddard stark #got smut #asoiaf smut #smut #house stark #fluff

[darielivalyen]

When the gate opens, love and beauty will return to the world, and we will once again live in his perfect light. He's been gone for a long time, but his return is upon us. Let us praise his name and rejoice!

The Elder Crystals is a fantasy game set in the world of Sekherion, and its story begins in a place known as the Secluded Valley. The valley has been your home for nineteen years, and you have always seen it as a safe place.

All of that changes when you wake up in a forsaken cavern, right next to a large Crystal Gate, and you realize you were kidnapped and left for dead. Thankfully, you're not alone. There's a black cat with you, and he/she seems to be trying to lead you to safety.

As you explore the cavern, you uncover traces of suspicious activity. There are books and scrolls dating back to the Second Age, there are notes speaking of strange, dark rituals, and then, there is the Crystal Gate itself. You've never seen anything like it in the valley, and you can't help but wonder why it's there.

Is the Crystal Gate keeping you from what's inside, or is it keeping whatever's inside from getting out?

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Play as a member of one of eight races, with each one having a unique racial trait.

Customize your appearance, personality, and sexual orientation.

Romance a wizard astronomer, a dutiful monk, a quirky witch, a noble archer, a mysterious mercenary, or an arrogant elf from the outside world.

Build your stats and develop your skills, and see how your choices change your experience.

Choose your weapon and collect different types of equipment.

Explore three different types of magic.

Customize your dragon familiar.

Complete quests and track them in your personal journal.

Collect books to unlock a unique scene at the end of the game.

Protect your town from bandits, cultists, and the undead.

Join forces with an old wizard, an ancient lich, or a talking tree.

Learn the truth about your mother and her unusual connection to the Elder Crystals, and discover what happened when the valley was cut off from the outside world!

THE ASTRONOMER

Amedu (m) or Ameda (f) | Islander, human | 19yo | Wizard

Trope: MC's childhood friend.

Personality: relaxed, open-minded, esoteric, calm.

PINTEREST | BLURB

THE MONK

Nelfas (m) or Nelfasu (f) | Saryel/Southerner, human | 22yo | Monk

Trope: Voice of reason.

Personality: calm, detached, rational, unemotional, wise.

PINTEREST | BLURB

THE NOBLE ARCHER

Darion (m) or Daria (f) | Southerner, human | 20yo | Archer

Trope: Arranged engagement.

Personality: sarcastic, rebellious, cunning, evasive, cocky, loud.

PINTEREST | BLURB

THE WITCHLING

Cerien (m) or Cerina (f) | Northerner, human | 18yo | Witch

Trope: That strange person no one knows anything about. Someone with a secret crush.

Personality: obsessive, quirky, individualistic, unorthodox, shy.

PINTEREST | BLURB

THE MERCENARY

Xarien (m) or Xarina (f) | Northerner, human | 25yo | Battlemage

Trope: New person in town. Someone with a lot of inner demons.

Personality: deceitful, cunning, daring, jealous, ruthless.

PINTEREST | BLURB

THE GUARDIAN*

Qen (m) | Primeval Elf | 5506yo | Guardian/Holy Warrior

Trope: Someone with a connection to MC's family.

Personality: dutiful, arrogant, lawful, tactful, lonely.

PINTEREST | BLURB

*Unlike the other five love interests, Qen's gender is set to male, and he can only be romanced by male characters.

Art credits: Izabela Oliwia.

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#The Elder Crystals #TEC #TEC Synopsis #darielivalyen #IF #Choice of Games #Hosted Games #Synopsis #Choicescript #Interactive Fiction #Announcment #WIP

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Love and Deceit

gif made by me

pairing: halbrand/sauron x fem!reader

summary: if anyone could pull him from the darkness that consumed him it would be you and, if not, you’d be the one to finally put an end to his madness.

warnings: elf!reader, betrayal, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of injury, mentions of war, heavy angst, reader was raised on númenor, toxic relationship, friends to lovers to enemies to lovers again, lots of pain and heartache

word count: 2.3k

a/n: calling this my trial fic for writing for the rings of power. i just live for the angst that comes with this man. i might write a part 2 later if this does okay

part 2 | part 2 alternative

read on ao3

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

Had any of it been real?

That was the question you asked yourself every single moment of every single day since he’d left you.

Halbrand, or Sauron as you now knew to call him, had been the first man you’d ever loved — truly loved — and all of it had been a lie.

When the elves left Númenor you were one of the few who remained. You lived in seclusion for a time, not wishing to aggravate the men who had cast your people out. Then, when their newest king arose to the throne and tried to bring back the old ways, you reappeared in their cities.

It was in those very cities that you had met Sauron, although he was known as Halbrand at the time.

He was found adrift at sea alongside Galadriel, the commander of the northern armies, and brought to the shores of Númenor by Elendil, one of the few people in all of Númenor that was not against your presence there.

You had little reason not to trust the outsider when both the famed Galadriel and your dear friend Elendil seemed to put their faith in him, a misjudgement you all soon paid for.

In his time in Númenor, Sauron had grown all the more trustworthy and, although he claims to have never once lied to you, everything he did was shrouded in deception.

All of it was a lie… every single thing.

Every moment you had shared from the tingle you felt as your fingers brushed against his to the time you fought at one another’s sides on the battlefield.

You hated him. Well, you should have.

He was the first man you’d ever loved. The first and, perhaps, the last. In all your years you had never met another like him. No one had ever made you feel the way he did.

How were you supposed to hate someone you had grown to love more than any other?

The first time your lips touched it felt right. It was as if not a single war or power could drive you apart or overcome the feeling of being in his arms.

Maybe it had all been a spell. A trick cast on you by the damned sorcerer — the Dark Lord himself.

You wish it had been a spell. Then perhaps it would not have hurt so much when you found out the truth about him.

Galadriel had pieced it together first and come to you to warn you of her findings but it was you who first confronted him.

He told you he was trying to save Middle Earth and he wanted you by his side, to bind him to the light, but he knew nothing of the light he spoke about. He was disillusioned, truly believing he would be the one to save Middle Earth from doom.

His lust for power had overtaken him and clouded his mind.

You would never suppress the people of Middle Earth to bring order, you wouldn’t become a tyrant.

He smiled as you held your dagger to his throat but in the deepest depths of his menacing eyes, you could see the man you loved trapped inside.

Halbrand and Sauron may have been one man but they were so very different from one another. Although you knew not to be so hopeful, a part of you suspected that Halbrand had not only been a false persona but a part of who he had once been before his path into darkness.

You did not shed a single tear, not in front of him. Not as you fought him after your confrontation, not even when you awoke with a bloodied head and not a single trace of him.

He could have killed you that day yet he chose not to, he chose to let you live. For what reason you were still unsure.

Only after you were sure he had left did you cry. Galadriel held you as you crumbled, falling to your knees as you wept. You couldn’t breathe for your chest was so tight, so heavy.

Everything had been a lie. Everything.

Every touch, every whisper, every smile and conversation. All of it had been just another part of his plan.

He said he had never lied to you but if he truly loved you as he said he did he would not have left you there. He would not have forsaken you to return to his path of evil.

You weren’t enough to deter him from his chase for power. You weren’t enough.

It wasn’t until years later that you saw him again. You fought through an army to reach him — to kill him.

He was in his armour, his figure towering over those around him. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed those who stood nearby to protect him, leaving only the two of you.

You readied your weapon, fingers gripping the hilt of your sword as you waited for him to make the first move. It was easier this way, you didn’t have to see his face.

He just stood there, watching you from under the dark armour that adorned his head.

“Fight me, Sauron.”

His fist clenched, that was the first time you had called him by that name.

He took a breath and just as you thought he was moving to draw his sword, he reached for his helmet.

It was only when you saw his face again that you realised you couldn’t kill him. Not when he looked at you with such a softness in his eyes, something that should be foreign to a being such as him.

Then, your swords clashed together like waves against rocks. He moved the same way he always had, with determination and strength, a tough foe.

When the fight came to an end he had you pinned to the floor with his sword to your throat, mirroring the way you had threatened him the day you found out who he really was.

You had expected him to slice your throat the moment he felt the painful sab of your dagger piercing through his side where you had wedged it through a gap in his armour. Instead, he faltered.

With a frustrated groan, he pulled away from you once again, seemingly as unable to end you as you were unable to end him.

You wished he had killed you and ended your suffering then and there. After all, you’d rather die by his hand than have to live on and one day watch him fall. Despite everything he had done, you still loved him.

As the battle outside came to an end he reached out, grabbing your wrist as he forcefully pulled you along. Not that there was any need for the force, you would have followed him willingly had he asked.

Perhaps you were a fool to think there was still a chance you could get through to him but you knew you had to try.

The battle was long since over and your people were likely still searching for your body, expecting you to have perished in the fight.

When he was without his armour it was almost as if Halbrand was standing in front of you, not Sauron. It was still hard not to keep the two separate in your mind.

He barely winced as he cleaned the wound you had given him, dabbing a wet rag across his skin to rid himself of the blood — his blood. Not many had drawn blood from him, few had ever had the chance.

“Did you ever even care for me?”

His head turned back towards you ever so slightly but he still did not turn enough to meet your gaze. Even through the hair that fell over his face, you could see his eyes were not looking your way. It was as if he simply could not bring himself to do so.

“Sauron.”

There it was again, that name. He had always taken pride in his names but when you called him that one it made him feel something he couldn’t understand.

Even you noticed it. The way his fist had clenched earlier and now the look of unease that crossed over his face.

“I did.”

That was his only reply, two stoic words of confirmation. It hurt more to finally hear them than you thought it would.

“Then why?”

Finally, he turned to you with crossed brows and those soft eyes he only seemed to adorn when he was with you.

“Am I not enough for you? Will you always choose power over me?”

His eyes grew colder as he listened to you speak, Sauron taking the reins once again to hide the hurt he was trying so desperately not to feel. “And you? Will you always choose to destroy me? To kill me? Will you never join me? We can save Middle Earth together.”

“You want to rule, not save.”

“And what is so bad about that? Is it wrong to want to rule?”

Just listening to him talk hurt more than you could explain. You wished for nothing more than to go back to before you knew who he really was, back to your time on Númenor. Back to when you first began falling in love with him.

“You’ve hurt people, killed people. People I loved, including yourself,” you paused for a moment only to continue again when his brows furrowed once more, “I loved you, Halbrand. I loved you more than I have ever loved anyone before and you betrayed me. You killed the man I fell in love with the moment you told me your true name.”

Sharply, he stepped closer and your breath hitched in your throat at the quickness of the action.

“I did not kill him. I am still him, part of me always will be. I did not deceive you, I only withheld the truth. Were you not the one who told me our pasts do not matter? That we have all touched the darkness?”

He was growing desperate now — desperate for you to understand. He hated the way you looked at him, he wanted you to look at him the way you used to. He missed the way you used to see him.

“We are soldiers, we have all done bad things but you… you have hurt so many…”

“Yet you still love me, do you not?”

Your mouth started to move but no words would form.

You knew you couldn’t lie to him for it was obvious enough from the fact that you were here with him now. You could have protested as he dragged you away from the battlefield, you could have tried to kill him again. He hadn’t taken your weapons, after all.

However, you hadn’t done any such thing. You left with him willingly and your hand hadn’t once strayed to clutch your sword.

His fingers were so gentle when they tapped under the bottom of your chin, lifting your head up to look at him again when your eyes strayed.

It was wrong. Everything he was doing was wrong. He was Sauron, he was the greatest evil in all of Middle Earth, yet here he was treating you — his enemy — as if you were something precious.

Without words, you nodded. You did still love him, no matter how much it pained you to admit it.

You truly had meant what you said back then, the past is the past, and if he had given up his quest to dominate Middle Earth to be with you maybe you would have left it in the past.

Again, your head fell as tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“I hate you,” you spoke as you stepped closer, hitting your fist against his chest, “and I hate that I still love you.”

He wrapped his arms around you and his touch was still so gentle, so careful as you cried against him.

“I know… I know.” Even his voice was quiet and airy, Halbrand’s feelings betraying him as they began to surface.

“I hate you,” you whispered again.

Still, he held you. He held you until he could not bear to hear you weep any longer.

You knew then that you wouldn’t leave him this time. You had made your decision to stay by his side. If anyone could change him — save him — it had to be you.

He was conflicted. He wanted to be Sauron but, for you, he wanted to remain Halbrand. There was a battle raging inside him between good and evil and you knew you would be the one to pull him into the light.

Or, if there really was no hope, you would be the one to finally drive a dagger through his heart before driving one through your own.

feel free to let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist!

#—dinguswritings ⌕ #halbrand #halbrand the rings of power #halbrand x reader #sauron #sauron x reader #the rings of power #sauron angst #halbrand angst #lord of the rings

[outofangband]

Fox related Beleriand world building for @searchingforserendipity25 inspired by her delightful post here. I’ll probably go back and add to this!

Several species of are found throughout Beleriand Grey foxes are found in Ossiriand and to the regions East of the Ered Luin. Red foxes would likely be found throughout Beleriand with several subspecies depending on the region. Corsac foxes could be found in Dorthonion and some of the steppe regions of eastern Beleriand. There are also species that are not found in this world, both in Beleriand and Valinor

Foxes are curious, mobile and can recognize patterns and habits. Because of this, many elves have developed bonds with them or even learned to communicate with them, going back to the days before Oromë found them. Not all who make these connections are said to truly speak the language of beasts in the way Celegorm and some others did (though some are!), some of these elves simply master the unique sounds, displays and habits that foxes use to communicate, through observation and intuition.

The Sindar and Laiquendi occasionally keep foxes as companions, usually orphaned kits.

Foxes of different species can be found throughout elven, human and dwarven folklore, art, poetry and heraldry with symbolism differing depending on culture, species and region.

For the Northern Sindar, red foxes represent resilience, resourcefulness and intuition. They appear as guides in stories and songs.

In Eastern Beleriand, grey foxes, the only known arboreal canine species, are beloved to the green elves there who sometimes leave gifts upon high branches for them.

Foxes appear on Noldorin heraldic devices in Estolad and Thargelion, a silvery rendition of a red fox in a leaping position upon a dark background.

Melian has adopted the form of a fox on several occasions, especially in the years before coming across Thingol. In Doriath, foxes represent twilight and secrecy but do not necessarily have the connotations of deceit that other cultures have for foxes.

#the silmarillion #musing and meta #beleriand

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

Ok, so since today’s entry brought up the concept of “criminal types,” it is a good time to talk about the 19th century and phrenology.

When characters like Van Helsing, Dr. Seward, Jonathan and Mina refer to phrenology or the resultant criminology, it is supposed to show us as readers that they are scientifically literate and read up on the latest ideas. However, as modern readers, it is impossible to escape the awareness of how racist this science is.

For context, the 19th century is when a lot of what we would consider the “social sciences” began to emerge as fields of study. There was a desire, which increased across the century, to understand people and societies on a scientific level. And - importantly- there was the scientific desire to schematize humanity. This is when you see anthropologists creating hierarchies of distinct races, and this was in service of justifying colonialism. If Europeans from imperial powers were “superior” by virtue of physical and anthropological factors, then their domination and exploitation of the rest of the world was “natural.” Though it should be noted that at the time scientists were discussing the superiority of “Nordic”/”Aryan” races, which did not include large parts of Europe

Within that, there is the emergence of phrenology as a facet of physical anthropology. The general idea of phrenology is that features of the face and bumps on the skull can be read to know the traits of the person. It results in a whole subset of science that is interested in using calipers to measure parts of people’s faces and deciding whether their features indicated good or bad things about them. It also included deciding what the “typical” features of a ethnic group indicated about their culture and personalities.

(Dr. Gustav Retzius about to measure the skull of a Sami man)

I am going to put the rest under the read more because of some of the racist imagery. 

So, from this there are whole charts about what things mean. And they privilege typically Northern European features as more trustworthy and intelligent and good.

For example, you can imagine what groups of people this is describing:

Hooded eyes and hooked noses being deceitful. I don’t think I need to explain in detail who that paints as inherently untrustworthy.

And here is a class around the turn of the century learning about what nose shapes mean:

And this strain of science led to linking facial features to criminality. Scientists, prominently Lombroso, in prisons measures the features of inmates and from that created theories about how you could see if someone was born to be a criminal.

These “criminal types” fell into several categories but on the whole they were considered to be underdeveloped and thus selfish and self-serving. When the characters are describing the Count as one of these criminal types, it is meant to tell us that he is smart in some ways but also single-minded, selfish, and deceitful. This makes him more like a demanding child in a grown man’s body, and thus makes him unfit to live in society.

And let me be clear here, part of the idea of schematizing criminality in this way was to eliminate criminality via eugenics. If criminal types could be identified, they could be stopped from reproducing their criminal genes.

And if you look at this chart, you can get a sense of how this runs right into racism again:

Take note again of the darker features, hooded eyes and pronounced hooked nose. 

It should not escape your notice that the Count’s features are described as “not good features” and that they are more like those of these criminal types. The insistence of describing faces so often is all built into this same pseudoscience.

We know now, after some truly horrific things coming from eugenics and racist anthropology, that this is all pseudoscience. You cannot read personality from facial features. While there is still so much about people being “born criminals” in criminology, it does not usually imply that just having racial features makes it clear that someone was born to murder or steal.

And I must reiterate: The book thinks this is cutting edge science. We need to exercise our own critical thinking when we read these things from a modern perspective.

#dracula #dracula daily #cw: racism #cw: scientific racism

[tanadrin]

Favorite words

I keep a file on my computer of my favorite words, which are usually selected for phonaesthetic reasons, or because they are semantically or grammatically interesting. This is the list as of the most recent entries (”velico” and “Ushakaron”):

Individual words

analáugns (Gothic): hidden (nom. m. sg.)

anchorhold (English): the cell of an anchorite, in which the occupant is entombed as a kind of living saint

Apocryphan (invented): from World of Warcraft; proper name, of the pre-Cataclysm location “Apocryphan’s Rest” in the Badlands zone

armōsts (Gothic): poorest (nom. m. sg.)

ashkandi /,æʃ 'kɑn di/ (invented): proper name (World of Warcraft)

bearonæss /'bæɑɹ o ,næs/ (Old English): wooded headland (from bearu, "grove")

beinahrúgu (Old Norse): bone pile (dat. of beinahrúga)

carcern (Old English): prison (from Latin)

coalesce, coalescent (English)

crepuscular (English)

darkling (English): in darkness

daroð (Old English): javelin, projectile, “dart” in the older, more expansive sense

deliquesce (English), become liquid, esp. through organic decomposition

deosil (English): variant spelling of ‘deasil,’ turnwise; from Scottish Gaelic deiseil or deiseal, meaning ‘southward, sunward, counterclockwise;’ see also "widdershins," etymologically "anti-sunwise" and therefore counterclockwise in the northern hemisphere.

effloresce, efflorescence, efflorescent (English): to burst forth into bloom, to flower; from Latin effloresco, “I blossom, I flourish”

Enakro (invented): from Warcraft III; proper name, from the name of the multiplayer map “Enakro’s Way”

Eskhandar /'ɛsk hænd ,dɑɹ/ (invented): from World of Warcraft; proper name

etiäinen (Finnish): a type of folkloric apparition

exarch (English): a Byzantine provincial governor, particularly of an exarchate like Ravenna or Africa, from Greek ἔξαρχος.

fralusanō (Gothic): lost, gone away (nom. f. weak sg.)

gevaisa (invented): a tomb of living words; term of art among wizards of the Discworld; cf. Hebrew geniza, "a storeroom containing books which cannot be used, but which nevertheless cannot be destroyed because they contain God's name"

gnist (Danish): spark; related to OE gnāst, ON gniesta, SWE gnista, OHG gneisto, MHG gneiste

hellwara (Old English): ‘of the inhabitants of hell’ (gen. pl. of f. hellwaru or m. hellwaran)

hnasqus (Gothic): soft; cognate of OE hnesce, “soft,” ModE. dialectical nesh “wimpish, weak”

idaltu (Saho-Afar): elder, firstborn; cf. Homo sapiens idaltu, the (obsolete) classification of the “Herto man” specimen, human remains of about 150,000 years of age discovered in the Afar triangle, which were some of the oldest modern human remains known at the time of their description.

idreigonds (Gothic): repentant (nom. m. sg.)

iktsuarpok (English): the feeling of anticipation waiting for someone to arrive, often leading to repeatedly going outside to check for them; from Inuktitut ᐃᒃᑦᓱᐊᕐᐳᒃ itsoarpok, “goes outside repeatedly to check if a visitor has arrived yet.”

incunabulum (English): an early printed book; something in its infant stages; from Latin incunabula, ‘swaddling clothes, cradle, birthplace.” The change in ending is a result of the medieval form incunabulum, which was a singular back-formation of a noun previously found only in the plural.

incus (Latin): "anvil"

inwitwrāsen (Old English): ‘chain of deceit’

Iolanthe (Greek): proper name meaning ‘flower of the violet’

irgendwo (German): somewhere, anywhere

κακοΐλιον (Ancient Greek): proper name (‘Kakoilion’); dysphemism for Troy; compound of κᾰκός, “bad, vile, evil,” and Ἴλιον, “Ilion/Troy/Wilusa.” Translated variously as "evil Ilios" (A.T. Murray) or "Destroy" (Fagles, pun very much intended); a poetic hapax legomenon in Homer's Odyssey, used by Penelope for Troy.

kasterborous /kæs 'tɝɹ bɔɹ oʊs/ (invented): proper name of the constellation in Doctor Who containing Gallifrey; possibly Gallifreyan

lhammas (invented): the Elvish (Quenya?) name of a work of fictional sociolinguistics by J.R.R. Tolkien outlining the relationship of the languages of Middle Earth, later superseded; borrowed as a term for "a scheme of invented languages; the historical and aesthetic plan of languages in a constructed world; such scheme in the abstract, or a document laying out such a scheme"

lint (invented): quick, clever; possibly coined by Tolkien, and of no particular language; it formed the root of such words in several constructed languages of his that were unrelated, simply because he liked the sound-meaning relationship

listopad (Polish): November; literally, “leaf-fall”

mæw (Old English): seagull

mamihlapinatapai (Yaghan): glossed as ‘a look shared by two people wishing the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin.’ The word is a regular derivation from ihlvpi, “to feel awkward, to be at a loss,’ with various grammatical affixes of voice, aspect, and so forth, and might be more accurately translated as ‘to make each other both feel awkward.’

narthex (English): antechamber or entrance area of some Christian churches; from Greek νάρθηξ, “giant fennel, box for ointments”

neorxnawang (Old English): ‘field of heaven’

opalescent (English): iridescent in a manner resembling opal

orcnaw (Old English): evident

razda (Gothic): voice

reordberend (Old English): ‘voice-bearer,’ i.e., a poetic word for a human being

ríastrad (Irish): battle frenzy, berserker rage, warp spasm

ruinenlust (German): literally ‘desire for ruins;’ yearning for the past evoked by ruins

Saoshyant /'saʊ ,ʃyənt/ (English): eschatological figure of Zoroastrian scripture and tradition who brings about the final renovation of the universe, the Frashokereti. From Avestan 𐬯𐬀𐬊𐬳𐬌𐬌𐬀𐬧𐬝 saoš́iiaṇt̰.

Sargasso (English): proper name applied to a region of the western Atlantic; from Portuguese sargaço, of unknown ultimate origin)

searonet (Old English): web of guile, web of cunning

Sumer (English): proper name, from Akkadian Šumeru, of uncertain origin but potentially related to Hebrew שִׁנְעָר Shin’ar, Egyptian sꜣngꜣr , and Hittite Shanhar(a), all meaning “southern Mesopotamia;” has also been linked to the Sumerian endonym 𒊕𒈪𒂵 sag̃-gig-ga, “black-headed people, the Sumerians”

talast (Old English): 2nd person singular present active indicative: thou reckonest, thou dost consider

tīrfæst (Old English): glorious

tramountayne (Middle English fr. Latin via Italian): the north; the north wind; the north star (rare) (from Latin transmontanus)

Tuscarora (English): proper name of a Native American people, from Skarure skarū’ren’, “hemp gatherers.”

Tyree (English): found as a personal name and surname (cf. Mount Tyree in Antarctica, named for a U.S. Navy rear admiral); name of a fictional planet in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine; from Tiree (Scottish Gaelic Tiriodh), the most westerly island of the Inner Hebrides.

Ushakaron (English): proper name of a star; according to unsourced claims, the triple star ξ Tauri, possibly from the Akkadian word for “avenger”

velico (Italian): sailing

westengryre (Old English): ‘terrors of the wasteland, terrors of the desert’

whyssyne (Middle English): cushion

wodwo (Middle English): woodwose, a wild man of the woods

þancoi (Old English): thoughtful

þystro (Old English): darkness (nom./acc. strong n. pl.)

Phrases or expressions

uncleftish beholding ("Uncleftish Beholding," by Poul Anderson, English): "atomic theory" as calqued into solely Germanic roots

proclarush taonas (Stargate SG-1, supposed ‘Ancient’ language): "Taonas, lost in fire"

varg í véum (Vǫlsunga Saga, Old Norse) "a wolf in holy places," i.e., an outlaw (equivalent to skógarmaðr)

wære fræton (Exodus, Old English): "they ate the treaty," i.e., they broke it

hapax legomenon (from Greek ἅπαξ λεγόμενον): a word which occurs only once in a manuscript or particular textual corpus

táiknái andsakanái (Gothic, Luke 2:34), “disputed sign,” cf. KJV, “a sign which will be contradicted.”

#i really cannot find a reliable independent source for the etymology of 'ushakaron' #or even for which star it's supposed to be #that's not the same snippet of text obviously copy-pasted in different places on google #so if anybody can confirm or disconfirm its etymology and identification #i would appreciate it

[mariacallous]

This is from September 2020

“Proud Boys, stand back and stand by,” President Donald Trump told his supporters in the far-right street-fighting group from his podium at the first 2020 presidential debate. “Somebody’s got to do something about antifa and the left.” Four years into the Trump era, Americans have struggled to habituate themselves to the persistent presence of armed paramilitaries at demonstrations and flashes of lethal political violence. What do these hard men herald for our political life? Are they stormtroopers waiting for Trump’s signal to hasten the transition from autocratic attempt to autocratic breakthrough and the final demise of American democracy, as some liberals fear? Or are they a sideshow of confused, lonely men acting out fantasies with semi-automatic rifles?

Both hyperventilating over paramilitary fantasists and laughing off potential death squads miss the mark. The whiff of putsch may be more pungent than feels comfortable at the moment, but the far-right’s window for an extra-legal takeover remains quite narrow, especially if polls hold and Biden wins by a healthy margin. At the same time, American politics really has been destabilized by political violence, overwhelmingly perpetrated by the extreme right. But if the United States is heading into an era of fear and violence, it won’t be the first time this has happened in a democracy—or even the first time this has happened in America itself.

If proud boys and vigilantes can’t pull off a coordinated drive for power, they may opt for a time-honored approach in democratic politics: the “strategy of tension.” In a paper published this spring, University of Winchester criminologists Matt Clement and Vincenzo Scalia defined the strategy of tension as a political method of “state crime,” designed to produce “a climate of fear within communities. [Strategies of tension] employ deceit, threats, and acts of violence in order to maintain control across society through fear of the consequences of challenging the government of the day.”

The term was coined in Italy during the Years of Lead from the late 1960s to the 1980s, when political violence exploded, with bombings, kidnappings, and failed coups making weekly headlines. Under the strategy of tension, as the left grows more militant, influential, and strident in its demands, the right tries to inflame social tensions rather than defuse them. The violence has a dual purpose, to both suppress and provoke. The right’s aim is to cordon the left off from power by simultaneously intimidating them, eliciting escalation, getting the police to crack down, and using the chaos to manipulate public opinion and political alliances.

Virtually every member of the Western Alliance has had its own years of lead, not only Italy but Britain during The Troubles in Northern Ireland, France as it tried to cling to Algeria and was targeted by its own paramilitary terror campaign, South America in the years of Operation Condor, Mexico’s Dirty War, and so on. America is no exception. The country has been here several times before: Bleeding Kansas during the 1850s, when slave-owners and abolitionists faced off in murderous confrontations; the birth of the first Klan after the Civil War to resist Radical Reconstruction; and the wave of violence that accompanied the rise of the Third Klan during the civil rights movement. Elements of the left from John Brown to the Italian Red Brigades have also pursued violent accelerationist campaigns in pursuit of social change. But only the reactionaries have enjoyed approval from more mainstream sources of political power. Often, they got logistical support as well as material and legal cover from security services.

Clement and Scalia described the strategy of tension as a vicious cycle. State prevention of emancipatory politics leads to dissent, which is in turn repressed and delegitimized, further isolating social movements.

With no outlet for their demands, activists pursue more radical confrontations, leading their opponents to justify almost any violence in maintenance of the oppressive regime.

That dynamic is on display in the response to this year’s BLM protests. Once initial police suppression was met with uprisings, the “good guys with guns,” “patriots,” and militias showed up. Ostensibly there to protect businesses and  support law enforcement, the armed right has instead brought Chekhov’s AR-15 onto the political stage. The inevitable exchanges of gunfire and vehicular assaults at protests demonstrate, as Christina Cauterucci recently wrote for Slate, the political ethos of “own the libs” has escalated into “kill the libs.”

In the classic model, the strategy of tension was associated with Cold War covert action and CIA interference in our allies’ domestic politics. After World War II, Western intelligence agencies really did organize “stay-behind networks” with alumni of both fascist regimes and anti-communist resistance networks in preparation for a possible Soviet invasion.

And a military threat from the east was only one strategic danger: The left, it was feared, could also rise to power in the West at the ballot box and through social movements. The CIA did put its hands on the scale in the elections like Italy in 1948, when left-wing parties were portrayed as Soviet puppets and systemically kept out of a coalition government. In the late 1960s, the rise of the New Left was indeed met with covert violence, police terror, and a string of false flag attacks by neo-Fascists intended to suppress, discredit, and isolate the young movement. In turn, some on the left took up bombing and kidnapping as well, but this retaliation served the right’s ends by contributing to public fear and justifying red scares. The actual degree of coordination between the stay-behind networks, Western intelligence, and the right-wing terrorists of the Years of Lead remains hotly contested. But, as historians Leopoldo Nuti and Olav Riste wrote in an introduction to a special issue of the Journal of Strategic Studies on the strategy of stay-behind in Cold War Europe, “clandestine networks sometimes overlapped, without clear demarcation lines as to missions and functions.”

By contrast, the latter-day American pursuit of the strategy of tension is carried out largely in the open. The armed far-right doesn’t need a covert network to supply it with military equipment because America is awash in legal weapons. Militias and vigilantes don’t have to maintain underground communication networks because social media platforms allow them to operate freely. Police chat up the gunmen as they both eye BLM protesters. While the revelations regarding the Italian security services and political establishment’s relationship to right-wing violence didn’t fully emerge until police and parliament investigated in the 1990s, Republicans have publicly embraced figures like Kyle Rittenhouse, the alleged Kenosha shooter whom Fox News has transformed into a folk hero.

If Biden wins, as polling suggests is likely, it’s hard to imagine the likes of Patriot Prayer will surrender and disappear. After all, Trump has cast the election as an apocalyptic fight for America’s soul with stakes as high as the fight against communism. Republicans portray Biden, however tendentiously, as a tool of Ilhan Omar, BLM, and antifa, and his potential victory as inherently illegitimate, recreating the fear of the left that led many in Europe during the Cold War to try to exclude Socialists and Communists from power.

Given the persistence of the 2020 racial justice movement, it’s hard to imagine that the resurgent left will shy away from making demands of newly empowered Democrats. So to many on the armed far right, it might appear that their work will have only just begun if Biden takes office. They’ve got everything they need to continue operating as a domestic stay-behind network to antagonize, suppress and isolate the left—most valuable of all, permission from above.

[emprcaesar]

sansa is so isolated from the rest of her siblings.

every single one of the stark kids are separated they are scattered to the wind with only the shattered reminence of their house. but everyone else’s dire wolves are alive they are connected. lady is dead. that part of sansa is dead.

arya is known as the one her disguises herself becoming someone new. but it’s sansa who is making herself someone new. someone who is braver and deceitful so she can survive.

arya clings to the part of herself that is stark. she helps northerns whenever she meets them in the riverlands, she threw caution to the wind when she saw harwin and carelessly revealed her identity, and she killed dareon. she had no business killing him she was nobody from nowhere, but in her heart she knows she’s arya stark a daughter of winterfell whose duty is to kill those who leave the nights watch.

but sansa she is all alone in the world and to her knowledge the only true born stark alive. she is nothing but the key to the north. not even a girl. she is nothing.

#i don’t understand why people hate sansa #ethel cain coded #sansa stark #my baby my baby #book sansa #she is so preacher daughter core #arya stark #just girly things #book arya #lady the direwolf #girlcore #house stark #asoiaf #asoiaf books #before anyone asks #i love arya and she is brave for how young she is #i’m not comparing the two on their bravery #just their connection to their heritage

[bloodlessbodyy]

Contemporary Goth Band Favorites 🦇

in no particular order

Male Tears

synth pop, dark electro, dark wave, ebm

super catchy tunes with a classic gothic pop sound!!

recommended songs: belladonna, adult film, hit me, cry… forever

Panic Priest

post-punk, synth pop

super sing-along-able jams, moody gothic vocals and sassy melodies

recommended songs: she’s my guy, in all severity, self control, sanctified, the entirety of their album psychogoria is excellent

Deceits

brand new post punk trio, danceable and up-tempo with emotional lyrics

if you love The Cure, you will adore these guys

they only have four songs out right now - but they are all awesome!

i love: en soledad, failures

Vision Video

if you’re in the goth community online, especially tik tok, you have definitely heard of vision video. i cannot recommend them enough.

Dusty (Goth Dad) has an incredible soaring voice, thought provoking lyrics, super sing-along-able

recommended songs: in my side, cruelty commodity, promises

Harsh Symmetry

harsh symmetry’s debut album Display Model was released earlier this year, every song is incredible

dark wave with lots of reverb and bass synth

recommend songs: like an opiate, pugilist, severance

Death of Lovers

post punk with ghostly vocals, synths, guitar, and the occasional saxophone, backed up by that classic goth repetitive drum beat

i love their album The Acrobat - specifically perfect history and the title track

Lebanon Hanover

if you don’t listen to lebanon hanover yet, you’re missing out.

depressing and moody dark wave perfect for crying and dancing simultaneously - emotional lyrics and absolutely gorgeous vocals

recommend: album - let them be alien, songs - sadness is rebellion, i’m a reject, northern lights

Ritual Veil

if you liked male tears you’ll love this

heavy synth usage and upbeat tempo, perfect for dancing at the club - or alone in your room of course

recommended songs: favorite toy, surface, gray filter

Boy Harsher

yet again, if you’re not listening you’re missing out on some great darkwave ebm synth pop tunes.

heavy synth usage, eerie vocals, danceable

recommend songs: LA, face the fire, yr body is nothing

The Palest Grey

the palest grey’s debut album Always Haunted is a callback to the original, traditional gothic sound.

if you like christian death, this is for you.

genuinely spooky music, with eerie and mournful vocals

i love: in this room, suicide, uhh the whole album

Thanks for taking the time to read of all this. These are 10 of my favorite contemporary goth bands at the moment, and i hope you found something you like to add to your arsenal!! if you have recommendations for me or want to talk about goth subculture send me an ask or leave a comment :)

stay spooky

#goth #gothic #goth music #goth subculture #trad goth #darkwave #synthpop #coldwave #post punk #dark ebm #ebm #subculture #alternative #alternative music #male tears #panic priest #deceits #vision video #harsh symmetry #death of lovers #lebanon hanover #ritual veil #boy harsher #the palest grey #goth bands

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Part 6 of "Breathe everything will be fine"

Abstract: While the north is looking for you, you marry Daemon.  

Pairing: Daemon x chubby Fem reader  

Trigger warning: Small mention of blood (Valyrian wedding)

Masterlist : Here

Lord Stark watched the servants and knights of y/h/n wandering around the castle. The servants helping the knights to put on their armor, moving the weapons that were to be sharpened, strengthening the shields, adapting the ribs of mesh. He was walking down the halls, ready to meet your father. He heard it first, his friend spoke loudly, expressing his disdain and contempt for Daemon, that he would go and get you back.  

When Stark entered the room where your father was preparing, he surprised your father spanking the hundred pats. A big taste of sweat fell from his head, his veins were so swollen on His face that it became slightly visible. His eyes were bloodshot. 

"My friend, what happened?"  

"He kidnapped her!"  

"Who?"  

"Daemon! He dared to kidnap Y/n!"  

Lord Stark was stunned, he was still trying to keep a logical mind, you cared about your family, if you had left it was for a good reason, you were an adult, always the wisest, it was true that you had changed alongside the prince, maybe you did follow Daemon, like in King's Landing. Lord Stark did not want an open conflict with the Targaryen, whether it was Daemon or Viserys.  

“Before any attack, let’s find out where they went.”  

“The time to hear from them who knows what he has done to her!”  

“Calm down, your thoughts are not clear.”  

“How can I calm down?” 

“Y/n is a young adult woman who became attached to the prince, just as he seems to have become fond of her.” Lord Stark sighed. “If she left, maybe she left voluntarily.”  

"I will kill him, prince or not!"  

“Enough! I will help you find her, but I will not help you if you hatch an open conflict. If Y/n really left with the prince, ask yourself why. Why is she willing to follow the prince? Why is she willing to be denied?”  

Your father had stopped at Lord Stark’s monologue. He was looking at him with a pulsating heart and jerky breathing. He did not understand how his friend was so calm, troubled by anxiety and anger. 

For several weeks, your family had no news, crows were exchanged between the Red Keep and your family’s chastisement. Emissaries were sent throughout the kingdom to search for you. No news was to be deplored.  

Until an emissary spoke, he returned from the territories near the island of Dragonstone.  

“A dragon resembling Caraxes was seen circling Dragonstone (castle).”  

Sir Reinfrid had taken the lead's of research, your parents had remained on your lands. Lord Stark had ordered your father to stay, he could not help the search without risking a conflict with the royal family.  

The emissary was in front of Sir Reinfrid, he had just arrived after a few days of traveling, he had been sent with others to the area. 

"How long have they known?"  

"At least one moon, Sir."  

"And no one thought to warn the Targaryen house?"  

“No sir, according to villagers, the prince was married and his bride looked like Lady Y/h/n. They thought it was planned.”  

Sir Reinfrid had the impression that his blood was becoming as cold as the northern rivers. It must have been certain that you were married to the prince. He hoped that this marriage was not forced, that the prince was not so cruel and deceitful. But if he had known about past events, he wouldn’t have his thoughts. 

Because in Dragonstorne, concerns were not current.  

A moon rather, Caraxes had stopped at the foot of the castle, Daemon had helped you down from the dragon. As you walked away you turned to Caraxes, thanking the dragon with a gentle voice, he replied with a dull roar. Daemon, who had placed one of his hands in the hollow of your back, looked at Caraxes before speaking to him in High Valeryen, you looked at Daemon curious about his words, he smiled and made you enter the castle.  

Dragonstone is an island being very different than the territories of your family in Westeros, the castle was as different as yours, whether in the grandeur of the place, the decoration, but also in the global atmosphere, the castle seemed to have run out of life for several years. It was as if a happy life had left the castle. It took you several days to begin to adapt to the place, even if you continued to get slightly lost in the corridors, Daemon fortunately remained at your side for a long time, which allowed you to learn to distinguish the corridors, the different rooms composing the castle. 

It was necessary to wait several days before your union, until a priest arrived at the castle. The use of a priest was not mandatory, but Daemon wanted your union to be declared official. This allowed you to set the final details of your ceremonial dress, whether it be a seam or the size of the ceremonial headdress.  

The day had just come up, the breeze was warm, the sky passed from the colors of the night, to other warm ones whether it be red to orange to yellow, as close as possible to the sunrise.  

You watched the horizon, surprisingly you were not nervous, the future ceremony seemed to you most natural, a continuity in your relationship with Daemon.  

A few people were present, several knights loyal to Daemon, a few servants of the castle, one of the two servants who had helped you prepare the same morning.   

Daemon was looking you in the eye, the light of day gave warmer tones to her purplish eyes. Your heart beat softly, the serenity that emanated from Daemon, carried away any trace of anxiety that could cross you. Daemon looked at you with a look that no one could have imagined. His look was filled with a love, a sweetness that few people would have thought. 

The priest began the ceremony, placing a blade resembling an obsidian blade in Daemon’s hand, you smiled tenderly at him, your heart began to beat a little faster, anticipating future cuts, more for the future pain than for the gesture itself.  

Daemon had taken the time to explain to you what a traditional Valyrian marriage was. Telling the story about this ritual, why the Targaryen were getting married less and less in this way, how the ceremony of the seven replaced it. It helped you stay calm and relaxed, while nurturing your curiosity about the Targaryen.  

When the tip of the blade touched your lower lip, only the coldness of it remained in your memory, it was very sharp, there was almost no pain just a slight pressure, and a scratch, you felt a hot liquid flowing slowly, Daemon gently placed his thumb against the cut, collecting some blood. You continued to look him in the eye, seeing his hand approaching your forehead, he left a line of blood from the tip of your cap to the crossing between your eyebrows and your nose. 

Exhaling the air you unconsciously held back, you took the blade from Daemon’s hands, concentrating to keep your hand from shaking, you cut off your left hand on the surface, enough to draw blood, You then gently placed the tip of the blade in the middle of Daemon’s lower lip, cutting his lip, while trying to reassure yourself that it would not hurt him that much. You collected blood from his lip with your thumb and just like Daemon you placed your thumb on his forehead tracing the tip of a triangle. He took the blade from your hands to cut the inside of his left hand.  

With your heart pounding, you were trying to breathe quietly. Your left hands bound by a black and red purple ribbon embroidered with golden yellow thread, ready the Priest to recite the prayer in High Valyrian. 

« Hen lantoti ānogar / Va sȳndroti vāedroma / Mēro perzot gīhoti / Elēdroma iārza sīr / Izulī ampā perzī / Prūmī lanti sēteksi / Hen jenȳ māzīlarion / Qēlossa ozūndesi / Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo / Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi  » 

The priest handed you a cup, you drank a sip before handing the cup to Daemon, he also took a sip and then gave the cup to the loan. The world no longer existed around you two, no more Westeros, no more accepting or not accepting family. There was only Daemon and you, never could have imagined in your childhood to marry a prince, besides a Targaryen. But now there was no royalty, Daemon was just him, you didn’t want a title, just to be with the person you loved, right now and for the rest of your life. Whether he was a prince, a king, a knight or a thug, it didn’t matter to you, it was the man you fell in love with, not a title.  

His lips came out of your thoughts, when they landed on yours, you exchanged a sweet kiss, your cuts touching, there was a metallic taste in stooping, that changed the slightly sweet taste that Daemon’s lips could have after drinking wine. He placed his free hand against your face caressing your cheek, to arrive at the embrace between your head and neck. Getting you as close as possible, the only barrier being your left arms. You were now united by marriage, this union could not be removed so easily. A feeling of pure happiness invaded you, a few tears of joy made their way along your cheeks. With a thumb, Daemon gathered your tears, smiling tenderly. That smile that was dedicated to you.  

There was no great banquet, loud lords proclaim more or less sincere and convincing congratulations. No big ball and hours of dancing, or even a completely drunk guest.   

The knights had a meal and wine in their guard room, celebrating among themselves. The servants had a day of rest for the most part, some always ready to serve at the least request of the prince or yours, ready to prepare lunch and evening meal.  

You and Daemon are staying out of the castle for a while, enjoying the outside heat. You wandering around the castle, Caraxes watching in the distance.   

You looked at the landscape, Daemon’s hand resting in the hollow of your loins, summer was drawing to a close, the trees were not yet wearing their autumn clothes. The flowers were still in bloom, the wind taking away the petals of them.   

“It’s beautiful.”  

«Not as much as you, my pretty wife» 

You felt that sweet warmth again in your body.  

“I’m sure you’re even prettier without all his clothes.” Daemon had his face close to yours.  

“D… Daemon…” Your heart was starting to beat a little stronger.  

“Don’t be so shy, we’re married now. You’ve certainly pictured me naked, as I’ve pictured you more than once.” Daemon’s face was so close, it bit your earlobe gently.  

You moan softly, a shiver running through your body. Daemon was right, more than once you had imagined what he might look like naked. Several times late at night, after one of your meetings at the Red Keep, you imagined that the night would last longer, that it would sneak into your room and that you would succumb to lust. The gossip of his adventures in the brothels of King’s Landing did not please you very much, but at the same time, you imagined what he was doing there, whether it was you instead of one of his prostitutes. That night, you could discover the pleasures of the pulpit next to Daemon.  

Dragonstone seemed warmer since your union, the castle full of life, the servants like to bet on the time it would take you to give birth to your first child. Whether or not they know if you and Daemon wanted children or not, and if so so early or later. 

The only shadow on the table was an early autumn morning, a knight had gone in search of Daemon, a boat with a group of knights was approaching.  

Daemon was upset, if not annoying. Few matter who these people were, they had better have very good reasons to be on the Targaryen domain.  

The meeting took place on the bridge leading to the castle, You had insisted to be at his side, being calmer than him, you hoped to avoid any eventual overflow. Daemon recognized in the distance, the banners of your house and those Targaryen. He sighed and started pacing, if Viserys had sent this bastard Hightower, Daemon would make him lose his head at the slightest remark. You do grab Daemon’s hand, clutching it, trying to relax him without succeeding.  

The tension in the air was oppressive, you recognized Sir Geubert and Otto Hightower. Daemon’s gaze did not leave Otto, if your husband could spit fire, you were convinced that Hightower would be roasted before even speaking. 

"Prince Daemon!" Otto was not even trying to be complacent.  

"What do you want, you mangy dog?" Daemon had put his free hand on Dark Sister’s knob, ready to draw at the slightest moment.  

“We have learned that you are hiding here as well as your supposed union with Lady Y/h/n.”  

“We are married according to the ancient Valyrian tradition. You can fuck off.”  

"The king summons you both to the Red Keep, I doubt you want to avoid a war between the king and your family, Lady Y/h/n. " Otto turned his head in your direction.  

“My brother will do everything to avoid it, to the point that he would have us marry himself.”

Daemon was more and more annoyed, if Otto was present it was not only as a messenger, he was sure. Otto took out a parchment bearing the Targaryen seal. He stretched it towards Daemon.  

The letter contained a message from Viserys asking Daemon to come to the capital, whether he is married to you or not. He wanted the tensions to ease. 

"We will be present." You spoke for the first time since they arrived. "Now left Lord Hightower."  

“You don’t belong in this field.”  

“He is for the king’s successor, as long as Viserys has no sons, this is my husband’s domain.” You looked at Daemon before you started again. “You’d better leave before I let my husband cut off one of your limbs.”  

Daemon smirk, he was beginning to like the assurance you have, more and more. The cry of Caraxes put an end to hostilities. The great red dragon began to grow impatient, The knights accompanying Otto and Sir Geubert retreated, ready to flee at the slightest order.   

"Are you happy, Lady Y/n?" Sir Geubert spoke.  

You were nodding, more than happy with Daemon. Sir Geubert understood, that he now had to try to convince your family, perhaps that in the end, you had chosen to leave with the prince. 

Translation : (thanks to Reddit) 

Blood of two / Joined as one / Ghostly flame / And song of shadows / Two hearts as embers / Forged in fourteen fires / A future promised in glass / The stars stand witness / The vow spoken through time / Of darkness and light 

Tags list :  @the-phantom-of-arda

@tinypnut

@thestartitaness

#Daemon x reader #Daemon Targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen x chubby reader #Daemon x chubby reader #House of the dragon x reader #House of the dragon fanfiction

[hpowellsmith]

NOBLESSE OBLIGE is due to launch August 25 - wishlist on Steam!

Spark romance amid secrets in a crumbling mansion! What will you sacrifice for love? Can you trust your own heart?

Noblesse Oblige: a Crème de la Crème Adventure is a 137,000-word interactive Gothic romance novella, a standalone story in the Crème de la Crème universe.

On a windswept island, far from the mild shores of Westerlin, stands the estate that is your new home. You have been hired to work as a conversation partner for a lonely aristocrat. It is a profitable opportunity, and your impoverished upbringing and middling university education leave you few others.

But secrets lurk in every darkened corridor, and nothing is what it seems. Why does your young charge go wandering in the middle of the night, haunted and mourning? What is in the letters that the charming new secretary constantly writes? Why is your employer so intent on keeping outsiders from prying into the family’s business?

Attend grand balls, ride through fast-paced fox hunts, spend jovial evenings with the servants, teach diligent lessons to your charge, and observe - or take part in - this northern land’s religious rituals. Meanwhile, there are webs of deceit for you to unravel, and deep mysteries to explore. When you reach the end, will you bring justice to those who deserve it, or keep their secrets buried forever?

And, of course, there is love: midnight trysts, stolen moments, and sweet warmth amid the cold. Your job on this remote island has just begun: will you work hard for a secure future or abandon everything to follow your heart?

#noblesse oblige #choice of games #interactive fiction #romance games #amare games #here it is!!! #I'm THRILLED that it'll be out soon! #now everyone will get to hang out with my messy ROs #will one or more of them go feral? yes #will you fix them or will you make them worse? yes #will there be intense peril? yes #does someone scream at you while covered in tears and blood? on some branches yes #can you brush fingertips lightly in a drawing room to avoid people watching? yes #is there snuggly knitwear and high necked collars? yes #I'm very excited can you tell?

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Notice Me Reader Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @ahordeofwasps! :D

Rules: Share 3 (or more!) small details from your WIP that you feel have gone/will go unnoticed. (You can choose whether or not to share why the detail is significant!)

I was tagged twice, so I'll give details from two WIPs!

The Case-files of Seo Yo-han (counting all of them as one WIP for this):

Shakespeare is referenced in every book:

Leo reads Richard II in The Unfortunate Moth.

Silver Glass has a quote from King Lear as the epigraph to the last bit of the flashback ("...I am a man/More sinn'd against than sinning").

Also in Glass, Phil quotes Othello when she says she and Alec both "loved not wisely but too well".

Houses Full of Deceit has a more light-hearted example according to the outline, where Leo attempts to flirt with Phil by reciting Romeo's "Juliet is the sun" speech. ("Attempts" is the key word.)

Mine Eyes Dazzle mostly references John Webster and Gilbert & Sullivan (yes, really!) instead, but one character quotes Henry V -- specifically Act 2, Scene II. Which gives Yo-han an important clue, because that scene is about a former friend who became a traitor.

2. The murderers in books 1 & 3 are foils, and so are the ones in 2 & 4. Leo kills because he's paid to, while Ji-hun kills because he enjoys it. Davit kills from a mixture of love and hate -- love of Alec, hate of Gwladys -- while the still-unnamed villain kills because they both love and hate their victim.

3. For most of HFOD everyone is running from Ji-hun. For the climax, I want to turn the tables on him. He sets a trap and thinks he's caught Leo and Yo-han, but really they know it's a trap and have set up one of their own! (Namely, Phil hiding nearby with a gun.)

Uneasy Money:

Of the seven Millner siblings, the three oldest are fluent in German, the middle two are semi-fluent, and the two youngest barely speak it at all. This is because their mother was German, and she died when the three oldest were teenagers. By then she'd spent years in Britain and had mostly stopped speaking German, so the younger children picked up less of it.

Loughlinter isn't a real place. I borrowed the name from Anthony Trollope's Palliser series. (Where, oddly, Loughlinter is in Scotland -- it should be spelt Lochlinter. So based on spelling alone, moving it to Northern Ireland makes more sense.) I'm still vague on where exactly it is. I'm leaning towards somewhere around Limavady solely because my crush is from there, but that doesn't fit with Helena's statement that it's "twenty miles from Belfast". (Limavady is sixty miles from Belfast.)

Everyone has very different ideas of what sort of story they're in. Gilbert thinks he's in a P. G. Wodehouse comedy, Helena thinks she's in a Georgette Heyer romance, Thomas thinks he's in an Emily Brontë Gothic novel, and Tarka thinks she's in a Charles Dickens mystery. All of them are partly right.

Tagging @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables, @sarandipitywrites, @oh-no-another-idea, @mysticstarlightduck, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

#tag game #writing #my writing #my WIPs #the case files of seo yo han #WIP: money

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Hi! If I ask you, can you write a shot about Halbrand?

Reader is the daughter of Gil Galad and Sauron seduces her with his beautiful words, but then Galadriel discovers Halbrand's true identity and he becomes all dark, claiming reader and taking her with him to Mordor.

Maybe with different POVs?

🐈🧝‍♀️👍

The End of All Things

pairing: halbrand/sauron x fem!reader

summary: when great deceptions come into light, the noldor princess must choose her side.

warnings: elf!reader, betrayal, toxic relationship, mentions of violence, mentions of war, mentions of death, mentions of imprisonment, angst

word count: 1.7k

a/n: thank you for this request! i had a lot of fun writing this 🤍

read on ao3

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

The daughter of Gil Galad by the Dark Lord’s side? None would have ever foreseen it, not even the princess herself.

You had met him when he first came to your cities. A man — a king — wounded in battle. A battle he had fought alongside none other than Galadriel, the commander of the northern armies.

She bought him to the Elves knowing that only their medicine could save him. She trusted him and took him into her ranks. Not only as the king of the Southlands but also as a friend.

Even she had not foreseen his deceit.

When he first arrived, you were soon by his side. A Noldor princess who had been studying medicine alongside the art of war. Trained a warrior but peaceful and kind by nature.

You wanted to tend to him personally, seeing as he was such a close friend to Galadriel. She must have had much trust in him to bring an outsider to her home — to your home. Healing him was an important task and even your father knew no one else was better suited to the task.

That was how you came to know him. Over the days he spent undergoing treatment you had learnt much about the new king of men.

For instance, he liked to make snarky jokes to hide how he was truly feeling. If he was ever in pain, another snide remark would fall from his lips followed by a deep chuckle as he tried to convince even himself that he was alright. You always saw through the façade.

Then, there was his charisma. Words like honey adorned by a handsome smirk every time the two of you spoke. Confident flirts danced across his poisonous tongue and soon began to puppet the strings of your heart.

It wasn’t long before you started to fall.

Before long he was up and about again, walking around despite the pain that still lingered from his wounds. By then, he already had you. Heart and soul.

He got along with the smiths soon enough, helping them with tips and pointers as they tried to uncover the secrets of mithril.

It was only then that Galadriel began to doubt his motives. She had brought him to Middle Earth with her, after all. He had protested her at every turn, wishing to be left alone to his own devices. She had even been the one to make him a king.

In her blind faith, your own arose. You had little reason to doubt the man who had arrived alongside Galadriel, her guest, and even then he had managed to captivate you in ways you could not describe.

In such a short amount of time, he filled your heart and became everything to you. He was your sun at dusk, your moon at dawn. He was the very stars that flickered in your eyes. All you wished for in this world was to be with him, to live out your days by his side.

It was foolish of you to want for a man, one who would lead a mortal life and grow old far before you. Then again, perhaps a part of you had always known there was something more to him — something strong, something powerful.

He was no mere man. He was one of the Maiar, perhaps the strongest of their kind, and the most destructive.

His web of lies knew no bounds, sprawling and twining until it was so thick you could barely glimpse the deep, dark fire behind it.

His name was not Halbrand, nor was he the rightful king of the Southlands. He was no friend to the elves and he did not love you the way you loved him, no matter how many times he proclaimed it. At least, you knew there was a slim chance of it.

When Galadriel had come to you with her concerns you had dismissed her. It wasn’t because you did not believe her but rather because you did not want to. You were conflicted, fighting an internal battle with yourself as you went over it again and again in your head.

The Southlands did not have an heir. Halbrand was not who he said he was. Galadriel had been wrong about him, you all had.

You knew where she had gone, knew she would have left you only to confront him herself.

By the time you arrived, it was already too late. She had a dagger to his throat and there was this look in his eyes… a darkness you had never seen in them before.

They fought but she stood no chance. She was not prepared to face him, not physically or mentally. His tricks and illusions — whatever he was showing her — it was too much. You saw a tear run down her cheek before she snapped out of the trance and lunged at him again, fury like dragons breath in her eyes.

In but a moment she was on the ground, knocked out cold from the harsh impact of her head against the rocky ground below.

Only then did he look at you and, as if their fight had not transpired at all, he returned to the façade he named Halbrand.

“Princess…” He held his hand out to you as he moved closer. You only moved back so he spoke again, “Please, y/n.”

“Y-you’re him… Sauron.”

His eyes grew icy once again, the darkness within him taking hold and, before you knew what was happening, it was as if all of time had become still.

You were not sure how long you were trapped inside your own mind, living through what he wanted you to see. The conversations you had once had together repeating themselves over and over again, changing slightly each time — moulding into a sick distortion of what you remembered.

Once you could no longer bear it anymore, you started to dream of things that had not yet happened. You dreamt of facing him on the battlefield, plunging your sword through him to save the people you loved.

You killed him over and over again until you could kill him no more.

All the while, he had been on the move, travelling across Middle Earth with your spelled body. You were trapped in a prison of his own making and, although such a thing would have been a feat for any other sorcerer, he kept you under without so much as breaking a sweat.

By the time your eyes finally opened again, you were far from your home.

It was not a cell but rather a home. One normal in all but its own nature. You recognised it, the building and furniture mimicking what you had seen in the Southlands.

Impossible, you thought for the Southlands were nothing but ash now. Yet, here you were and, when you looked through the window, there they were. The Southlands, greener than ever before with hills and fields and farms and life. So much life…

Then, the door opened and you caught a glimpse of the harsh reality behind him before he closed the door tight, as if to seal it from the darkness that resided outside.

“This is not real.”

He simply smiled, almost elegant in nature as he came further into the room. “It is as real as you and I.”

“You did this… All of it.”

His features remained soft as he spoke. “I did none of it. Galadriel is the one who found me and pulled me back to Middle Earth. I did not want this, I wished to be left alone.”

“In the Sundering Seas? Where were you going if you were not to return to Middle Earth?”

He sighed. All he wished for was to get through to you, for you to understand.

“I wanted forgiveness. I wanted to make amends for what I have done. I wanted to change.”

You scoffed, “To change? You will never change. You could have said no, you did not have to follow Galadriel. She put you exactly where you wanted to be. A king, a ruler, a deceiver.”

“I never meant to deceive you. I never meant to deceive anyone. You must believe me, I truly wanted to help.”

More than anything, you wanted to believe him, but you already knew what path he had chosen.

“And now?”

“I do not believe Galadriel and I crossed paths by coincidence. Fate put us both on that boat and fate brought me back to Middle Earth. It is my destiny to rule, to unite the lands.”

Lies, more lies. Although, you were unsure who he was lying to. You, or himself.

You stepped closer to him, hostile in stance. “Unite the lands? You wish to destroy and concur. How many more must die before you are satisfied? How much more blood will you spill to sit on your decrepit throne?”

Only then did his demeanour change once again as darkness consumed him. He raised his voice, all manor of elegance crushed under the wrath in his eyes. “You will see. You will understand and you will join me!”

“I will never join you,” you spat through gritted teeth.

His breathing began to calm but his anger remained. He turned from you and spoke again only after he had reached out for the door.

“In time, you will.”

He did not once turn back to face you, not even as you ran after him but, before you could reach him, the door was shut tight once again. You pushed and pulled and threw yourself into the splintering wood but it would not budge.

His magic was strong. Strong enough to keep you locked away until the day you joined him. Strong enough to rebuild this home and turn it into a well-crafted prison. Strong enough to destroy Middle Earth, in time.

In time, it would all come to an end whether you chose his side or not. Still, you would not break. You would not cave despite the love you still felt in your heart for him for the man you had loved was not real, Halbrand was not real. Not anymore. Only Sauron remained.

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