#adamantius

[bubblyernie]

OOOOH baby you know im always on the grind for those hades mockups. I haven't played the second I'm waiting for the full release no spoilies please!!

Here's Adam, he's a (dnd) reborn, meant to be like a "fraction" of Achilles so a lot of the design I had to rework to fit Hades' Achilles. He's got skin of molten bronze and obols on his eyes

I should just make a tag for all my Hades mockups. OOPS. Here's the rest though: (linked here) (and here) (one more) (oops one more sorry)

art tag // commission info

[tothesolarium]

Side effect of studies is that I have a better name for “lord” as I’m aware that would be like- bad. He’s meant to embody the Wrath god uses to protect his people, but isn’t literally a god. Tho he does get in trouble for using this title to bend rules

Anyways!

Origen Adamantius - the first Christian to argue it is just to kill a Tyrant :D

[buggie-hagen]

Books I've read in 2023:

On First Principles by Origen. Translated by John Behr.

Low Anthropology: The Unlikely Key to a Gracious View of Others (and Yourself) by David Zahl

Luther's Outlaw God, vol. 1: Hiddenness, Evil, and Predestination by Steven Paulson

Luther's Works, vol. 23: Sermons on the Gospel of St. John, Chapters 6-8

Boys and Oil: Growing Up Gay in a Fractured Land by Taylor Brorby

Theology is for Proclamation by Gerhard O. Forde

Luther's Outlaw God, vol. 2: Hidden in the Cross by Steven Paulson

The Annotated Luther, vol. 4: Pastoral Writings ed. by Mary Jane Haemig

Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman

Atomic Habits: An Easy and Proven Way to Build Good Habits and to Break Bad Ones by James Clear

Who is the Church?: An Ecclesiology for the Twenth-first Century by Cheryl M. Peterson

Messianic Exegesis: Christological Interpretation of the Old Testament in Early Christianity by Donald Juel

Luther's Outlaw God, vol. 3: Sacraments and God's Attack on the Promise by Steven Paulson

Ragged: Spiritual Disciplines for the Spiritually Exhausted by Gretchen Ronnevik

The Early Versions of the New Testament: their origin, transmission, and limitations by Bruce Metzger

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

Confessing Jesus: The Heart of Being a Lutheran by Molly Lackey

Adamantius: Dialogue on the True Faith in God translated by Robert A. Pretty

The Annotated Luther, vol. 5: Christian Life in the World, edited by Hans Hillerbrand

The End is Music: A Companion to Robert W. Jenson's Theology by Chris E. W. Green

Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself by Melodie Beattie

The Church Unknown: Reflections of a Millenial Pastor by Seth Green

Reading While Black: African American Biblical Interpretation as an Exercise in Hope by Esau McCaulley

A Guide to Pentecostal Movements for Lutherans by Sarah Hinlicky Wilson

Daily Grace: The Mockingbird Devotional, vol. 2

--------------------------------------------------------

Not listed are some books that I chose not to finish and some books that I have yet to finish.

[el-smacko]

the bible literally does say that

For context I was saying the Bible doesn’t say “you were born evil, wretched, worse than the scum of the earth, and it took killing a god to make you salvageable, so now you'd better be grateful to that god and thank him 10,000 times a day for it and fill your thoughts with him 24/7 and abide by the letter of his every word, lest you suffer unimaginable torture for all of eternity” because the vast majority of “the Bible” is in Hebrew and does not refer to Jesus. Origen Adamantius isn’t very well regarded orthodoxically but he synthesized the references to hell into a universal “ekpyrosis,” which will refine the cosmos into harmony with God. This idea essentially became the concept of Purgatory, which is massively losing ground among the faithful for its flimsy articulation. The Gospel of John, which is non-synoptic and chronologically late, does not bother to luridly imagine hell while singularly describing the pre existence of Jesus as the Word. In fact, the word John uses for “dwell” implies Jesus was a Tabernacle despite Monophysitism now being mainstream. As someone raised Mainline Protestant while going to Catholic School for twelve years, church literally twice a week at least, having read the Bible in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, what the Bible says is vastly more complicated and worth discussing than the boogeymen, which are the only things a lot of folks are able to see. Point of order, the Bible also doesn’t “say” anything, people say it says something.

[zerogate]

Plunder & child murder in the OT

[Marcionites] ... assumed, like other Christians, that if the testaments came from a single deity, there should be a theological continuity between them. If Jesus was the Christ of the creator, their instructions for advancing the kingdom should have agreed. Yet this was not the case.

In the one passage, Jesus invited his disciples to accept voluntary poverty and full dependence upon god as they sought to inaugurate the kingdom. In Exodus, by contrast, the creator ordered the Hebrews to weigh themselves down with gold, silver, and clothing so they could decorate his tabernacle in the desert.

Marcionites concluded that the creator’s kingdom is material, based on worldly wealth, whereas Christ’s was immaterial, based on almsgiving and voluntary self-limitation. But it was not the materialism of the creator that bothered Marcion(ites) as much as the command openly to defraud the Egyptians. In short, the creator commanded his people to get rich off the spoils of their enemies—many of whom had perished in the preceding plagues. Taking such spoils, even if they were given “voluntarily” and on the spur of the moment, was a form of robbery typical of plundering.

An element of deceit is highlighted by the fact that Moses spoke with the Israelites “in secret,” urging them to ask their neighbors for expensive items (Exod 11:2). Little did these neighbors know that what was “borrowed” would never be returned. Marcion’s chief criticism was that the creator “commanded the theft (fraudem) of silver and gold.” This command contradicted one of the Ten Commandments (“do not steal,” Exod 20:15), widely taken to exemplify basic morality even today. Far from upholding this morality, the creator ordered his servants to engage in serious robbery—what amounted to pillage. These were immoral acts, and the creator who ordered them could only have, according to Marcion, a corrupt character.

[...]

Another antithesis recorded in the Adamantius went as follows: “The prophet of the god of generation told a bear to come out of a thicket and devour the children who met him, but the good Lord says, ‘Let the children come to me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven” (Evangelion 18:16). Tertullian also recorded this contrast: “Christ loves the little children, teaching that those who always wish to be great should become such as these. But the creator launched bears against young boys, taking vengeance for their insult suffered by the prophet Elisha.”

To explain: Marcion(ites) appealed to the story in Jewish scripture where Elisha the prophet, while traveling to the city of Bethel, was met by young children who mocked his baldness. The prophet responded by cursing the children in the name of the creator. The creator immediately fulfilled the curse by sending two bears against the children who were immediately mauled (2 Kings 2:23–24).

It is tempting to soft-peddle the troubling details of this story. According to the Septuagint, Elisha cursed not wily teenage toughs, but “small children” (paidaria mikra). He cursed not just two or three of these children but “forty-two” of them— all of whom were gored. He cursed them not for a repeated offense, but for a single occurrence of jesting, and for a relatively minor infraction— for exposing the prophet’s baldness. Consequently, Elisha’s cursing of the children indicates serious moral flaws in both his character and the character of the being he represented��� the creator.

There were, of course, attempts to mitigate the morally problematic nature of the story. One ancient commentator blamed the parents of the children for bad childrearing, but this hardly makes up for child murder. Attempts are made in the modern period to make the children’s insult more cutting— to say that baldness was a sign of Elisha’s prophetic office or indicative of leprosy. But even if these speculations proved convincing, Elisha’s curse still lies beyond the moral pale.

For Marcion(ites), the angry, cursing prophet represented the character of the one who sent him— the creator. The anger of the creator and his jealous need to retaliate has already been discussed. In the bear attack episode, it was the creator who perpetrated the crime, for it is he who sent the bears against the children. These bears quite literally tore the children apart. The Greek verb at play (anerrēxan) expresses incredible violence. It can be used to describe breaking through a wall, or of a lion ripping open a carcass. Etymologically, the verb means “break up,” and one can almost hear the sound of the children’s bones cracked by the bears’ teeth— though their screams go unmentioned. Far from showing any compassion, the cursing prophet continued his journey as if nothing had even happened.

[...]

Elisha cursed in the name of the creator. This is significant, for as we shall see in Chapter 7, the creator is characterized by cursing. A curse in his name is duly effective. Indeed, the creator had already warned the Israelites by adding curses to his covenant. If Israel did not follow his laws, the creator would send “wild animals” against them who would bereave them of family members by devouring them (Lev 26:22). As the creator himself put it: “I will send the teeth of beasts!” (Deut 32:24).

Marcion opposed the curse against the children to what occurs in the gospel. Votaries of Jesus brought infants and small children to him so that he could bless them. When his disciples tried to prevent this, Jesus invited the young to approach, saying: “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven is made up of their kind” (Luke 18:15–17).

In short, Jesus transmitted the blessings of the true god to the children, whereas Elisha effectively destroyed kids by the curse of the creator. One can argue here that the two scenes are fundamentally different. The children of the gospel, after all, do not mock Jesus. If they did, perhaps his response would have been different. But we have little reason to think so, for when Jesus was rejected and refused hospitality by the (adult) Samaritans, he did not curse them.

When his disciples suggested they call down fire from heaven like the prophet Elijah (2 Kings 1:9–13), Jesus rebuked them as if they were raving mad (Evangelion 9:54– 55). For Marcion(ites), Jesus was on a different wavelength than the prophets of the creator. He did not represent their character. He certainly did not replicate the character of the creator, whose “justice” was exposed as cruel, even murderous.

--  M. David Litwa, The Evil Creator: Origins of an Early Christian Idea

[neonpiegon]

Informative Speech: Demonology

Demonology, or rather, the study of Daemons, finds its origins in Greece. Daemons refers to lesser deities or guiding spirits. They were often personification of abstract concepts, forces of nature, beings like ghosts, spirit guides, djinn, olden heroes, or the divinities themselves, being good (Agathodaemon, Eudaemon) or evil (Cacodaemon) by nature. At an earlier time, derived from Proto-Indo-European, Daimons were thought of as the souls of men acting as tutelary deities. 

Most, if not all, ancient religions featured in their pantheon, similar kinds of spirits of binary nature, to the point where murals, paintings, statues and through other artistic mediums, these daemons have been represented. 

Nonetheless, it was around the II and III centuries, when the Catholic Church had begun to gain more popularity and needed an antagonist to go against Yahweh. Pagan spirits and deities were classified as “demons” and the term Satan, meaning  “adversary, accuser, enemy” was coined. Linking too, by hand of Justin Martyr, the talking snake in the Eden to a more contemporary image of Satan. Lucero, bringer of light and son of Aurora, was the metaphorical depiction of the king of Babylonia as an enlightened king, associated with Venus because of the “morning star”, a term that even Christ used on himself on Revelations 22:16. The eventual fall of the king of Babylonia, mentioned in Isaiah 14:12, was translated as Lucifer, falling from the heavens by the Vulgate of Jerome of Stridon. The Vulgate, became the official translation of the Hebrew texts into Latin for the church, and it was filled with multiple mistakes, such as interpreting Ha-alma (Hebrew for young woman) as parthenos (Greek for virgin).

A mysterious man from Cyprus rumored that the devil had previously been a devoted angel to good, but was outcast from heaven by his envy.  Father Origen Adamantius of Alexandria was in charge of interpreting Satan into the context of Lucifer. This edit to the texts made its way to the prophet Muhammad, who was influenced by it and included the character of Iblis (despair, leader of the djinns) as an adversary. Now called Satan, not as a title but as a name, he was identified with other pagan gods, specifically Pan of Greece. A favorite among the Greeks, his image demonization, literally, was strategic to defame the Roman Catholic Church’s competition. It was also developed the idea that Satan had rights over humanity because of the sins of Adam and Eve, thus ensuring that Jesus’s life meant a sacrifice for forgiveness to pay for such sin. 

Saint Thomas of Aquino, much later, proclaimed that angels could fall from heaven into hell because of pride and envy, and that Satan was their leader and governor. Satan, Lucifer, and the Devil had now become the same character. Previously, Hell was a concept described briefly in the Hebrew texts, but after 1320, it was depicted and developed in more detail by the mind of Dante Alighieri. 

Satan is not the only demon mentioned in the Bible, however. Beelzebul, or Baal Zebub, is named multiple times throughout the New Testament, as the “prince of the devils”, alluring to the affirmation of multiple pantheons. 

Following the many changes in canon, occult scientists claimed to have control of demon legions, and being able to evoke or summon a demon of their choosing. The Lesser Key of Solomon, allegedly written by King Solomon himself (even though the scripts feature discrepancies in nobility titles and Christian prayers by over 900 years) is one of the most well known books in demonology as of now, popularized by Sir Allister Crowley to the point where some editions are credited to him. It explains the directions necessary to summon and control the demons mentioned within it, as King Solomon once did with his secret seal and a vessel of brass, to direct demons into building a temple, which later broke free. It appeared anonymously in the XVII century, but much of it is taken from XVI century and late medieval texts and grimoires, including Pseudomonarchia Daemonum by Johann Weyer. Both texts feature rituals of summoning for demons; however, the Lesser Key mentions 72 demons in its hierarchy instead of 69, each one being of control of a seemingly arbitrary number of legions. Even King James IV of Scotland and I of England, who ordered the Bible edit used to this day, redacted a text on demonology in 1597; although it was a more political and theological statement to educate a misinformed population on the implications of sorcery, mentioning the methods in which demons bothered troubled men. 

The most notable differences between Pseudomonarchia Daemonium and The Lesser Key are, as stated before, the total number of “chief spirits”. The Lesser Key removes Prince Pruflas, and adds Price Vassago, Prince Seere, Duke Dantalion, and Count Andromalius. These chief spirits are, as seen, accorded to rank, and each rank features a seal of a certain metal, with designs unique for each spirit. For example, the Kings, the highest rank with a seal in gold, constitute of Bael, Paimon, Beleth, Purson, Asmoday, Viné, Balam, Zagan, and Belial. Some are mentioned as having two ranks, such as Viné being both King and Earl or Count, these with seals of either copper or silver equally. The only Knight is Furcas, with a seal in lead. However, nowhere within the ranks appear Lucifer or any of his other synonym names to be evocable, but it is mentioned briefly throughout other spirits’ description, such as King Paimon, who is, and I quote, “very obedient unto Lucifer”. 

Another script, called the Grand Grimoire, dated as early as the 15th century (although skeptics speculate it was written between the 17 and 18 hundreds), does mention Lucifer in their ranks. The texts, authored by some Antonio Venitiana del Rabina, derive much of its material from The Lesser Key, and organize the spirits similarly as another book called Grimorium Verum, which was allegedly written in the 18th century, by one “Alibeck the Egyptian” of Memphis who purposefully wrote the date “1517”. The Grand Grimoire mentions three greater demons: Emperor Lucifer, Prince Beelzebub, and Grand Duke Astaroth, and six lesser demons: Prime Minister Lucifugo Rofocale, Commander-In-Chief Satanachia, Commandant Agaliarept, Liutenant-General Fleuréty, Brigadier-Major Sargatanas, and Marshall and Inspector General Nebiros. 

Setting aside that evocations require detailed seals, materials, and chantings, that do not guarantee the exorcists to be fruitful, one common misconception outside occultists is that summoning a demon shall bring only imminent evil and destruction. But the texts list the most spirits more as mentors, who specialize in different fields and can help the sorcerer grow academically. For example, Prince Vassago, and I quote, “This spirit is of good nature, and his office is to declare things past and to come, and to discover all things hid or lost.” The Great Marquis Samigina, “teaches all liberal sciences and giveth account of dead souls that died in sin.” Great Duke Barbatos “giveth understanding of the singing of birds and the voices of other creatures.” Mighty President Foras, “teacheth the arts of logic and ethics and maketh men invisible.” Great Duke Zepar “his office is to cause women to love men, and to bring them together.”

Even so, the writings acknowledge that dealing with demons of bad nature can be dangerous. “Obey, therefore, my power as a reasoning creature -in the name of the Lord” (TLK, p99). Their god is mentioned all throughout the chantings in different manners: Eheie, Haioth, Iehovah, Hesel, Eloha, Elohim… are just some of the many words used to call upon the protection and hearing of god, and we can be safe to assume the evocation of demons originated as naught but a tool to do god's bidding. 

Sources and Bibliography:

Peterson, J. H. (2001). Legemeton Clavicula Salomonis. Weiser Books, USA.

Tyson, D. (2011). The Demonology of King James I. Llewellyn Publications, USA.

Guiley, R. E. (2009). The Encyclopedia of Demons and Demonology. Facts on File, USA. 

Bancroft, R. (Ed.) (1611) King James Bible. England.

Badía, J. A. (April, 2021) E110: Demonología. Leyendas Legendarias, Mexico. https://leyendaslegendarias.com/episodios/110

Weyer, J. (1563). De Prastigiis Daemonum; Pseudomonarchia Daemonum. Switzerland. 

Trithemius, J. (1499). Steganographia. Germany.

Dictionary.com. Multiple definitions. https://www.dictionary.com/

Unknown. (ND) Grand Grimoire.

[danthebore]

Mithrali’s older brother and douchey heir to the household, Adamantius.

[bookandcranny]

Stone Heart Gambit

it felt like about time i made a proper WIP out of this. hey, this is a story i wrote when i was a Youth that i’m just now finally going back into and sprucing up. it’s sweet, silly, and self-indulgent, and if all goes according to plan i’m going to be posting the entirety of “part 1″ to read on this blog over the next few days, so swing by if you think you might wanna check it out.

anyway!

INTRODUCTION

genre: fantasy adventure

audience: adult

pov: multiple limited third-person, present tense

major themes: defying destiny, self-discovery, the power of compassion

features: lgbt+ cast, found family, humor, monster romance, mythology/fairytale elements

summary:

An ancient warrior, cursed into a body of stone, awakens in the modern age thanks to a misunderstanding and a king-size candy bar. Having sworn an oath of loyalty to his savior, a disillusioned college student named Soso, the mismatched pair go on to seek their place in the divided world, and to discover what happens when neither the mundane or the magical seems to fit.

main characters:

Adamantius // the unbreakable, the unmerciful, the man the myth the legend. created by human alchemists to end the war between human and fae, Adamantius is a nearly invincible force of destruction. after the war was won he was set aside and largely forgotten by the humans.

Soso Willoughby // an art student lacking inspiration. all her life Soso’s been seeking a simple sense of belonging, and all her life she’s been let down. in her quest for something to feel passionate about, she discovers a remarkable stone statue, and proceeds to let it change her entire life.

Anthony Surehouser // the “borrowed” name of a faerie masquerading as a human librarian in the humble town of Ensfield. his job is to make sure that nobody manages to disturb the treasury of wartime secrets, weapons, ancient knowledge, and so on that he’s been tasked to guard. failed step one!

Jamison “Jamie” D’leon // one of the last surviving knights of Overhill, descended from the warriors that fought for humanity over a millennium ago. now he works for the Federation of Magical Affairs keeping the balance between the two worlds, and making sure everyone around him knows how good he looks holding a sword.

Dana Bancroft // a born and raised sorceress and Jamie’s partner at the FMA. she’s the brains of the operation and oftentimes the firepower as well, being something of a magical prodigy. her strict upbringing has left her ill-adjusted to modern life, but she hasn’t let it stop her from chasing her goal of moving up from rank 76 to 75 on the company leaderboard.

excerpt:

“So,” Surehouser begins after a moment. “You’ve, er, woken Adamantius.”

She nods slowly. “If it counts for anything, I didn’t exactly mean to.”

“It’s alright, Soso, I understand many humans in your age group go through an arcane phase, performing your little rituals and whatnot. Although, how you stumbled upon something powerful enough to undo a curse like that is far beyond me.”

“I’m serious, I don’t know anything about magic or curses or whatever! It was an accident.”

He looks into her eyes; she seems earnest, though it can be hard to tell with humans.

“I gave him a Snickers,” she says.

[dateamonster]

Who is your favorite oc at the moment!

i dont know that i necessarily have a favorite but im starting to feel myself slip into a fantasy genre kick and its starting me thinkin about uhhhh a lot of my various characters but like, maybe most nostalgically this gargoyle-esque monster dude and friends i made a million yrs ago and have been thinking about redesigning a bit

his names adamantius and somehow i dont think ive talked about him like at all on here despite him being such monsterfucker bait in concept. again this is some old old art but..

i had this whole story i made in my head, as i do, when i was maybe a youngish teen? ive built on it a bit sense then but it was basically about a monster that was created through alchemy to fight on behalf of humanity in a war against faeriekind, but who was cursed into a form frozen in stone. he gets released accidentally by a human(?) art school dropout and now is like I Owe You My Life. and shes like No Thanks Ive Seen It And Im Not Impressed.

fgfh anyway ive been thinkin about him and this whole gang of modern fantasy weirdos that end up gathering around him. the whole thing was very typical of younger me but it still makes me smile to think about and like. thats what matters yea?

[bubblyernie]

A little drawing of my OC Adam and the idea of rebirth and death since he's constantly on the run from the ferryman (his obols are still stuck on his eyes oopsie). I want to play him in a campaign so bad raaAAHHh!! 

art tag // commission info

[servus-immaculatae]

It is clear that the source of that life which is pure and unmixed with anything else resides in Him who is 'the firstborn of all creation' (Col. i. 15). Drawing from this source, those who have a share in Christ truly live that life ... for since He is the invisible image of the invisible God, He Himself grants participation in Himself to all rational creatures in such a way that the participation of each of them receives from Him is commensurate with the passionate love with which they cling to Him.

Origen of Alexandria, De Principiis, lib. ii, cap. vi, p. iii

[buggie-hagen]

He was not ashamed to assume for our salvation that which He created! ~Eutropius, Adamantius: Dialogue on the True Faith in God, 189.

[1five1two]

The Demiurge has his henchmen called Archons, who insert strange thoughts into people’s minds. The Demiurge wants total control of the Earth’s planetary destiny and is the greatest threat to humanity. ‘All secrets are in Saturn,’ declared Pythagoras, possibly implying that the Demiurge had made his home on the Planet Saturn. Origen of Alexandria (188 CE – 254 CE), also known as Origen Adamantius (‘man of steel’), was one of the earliest and most important Christian scholars. He stated plainly that Yaldabaoth (one of the names of the Demiurge) was the Planet Saturn.

Laurence Galian

[milliethekitty27-writing]

The Ladder

In a hole in the ground, there lived a lonely hobbit. It all started when Bilbo grew tired of his empty kitchen.

He hadn’t been fond of eating alone since the dwarves destroyed his pantry, but he hadn’t after Frodo joined him in Bag End. He’d eaten with the elves in Rivendell, which had been full of lovely music and pleasant conversation, and then he’d eaten with the elves, Frodo, and Gandalf when they’d traveled to the Undying Lands.

Now he was here, in Yavanna’s Garden, living in what was basically Bag End. (the actual Bag End was right next door for his parents) He had his beautiful garden back, which only mattered really because he’d been brought back to his youthful self with working hands. The house was always clean (and he’d never really liked cleaning, so that didn’t matter much to him) so he had all the time in the world to work on his maps and his stories. He got the occasional social call from neighbors or family. He ate dinner with his parents on Thursdays and went over to their home on Sundays for family nights with many cousins and aunts and uncles, but he spent the rest of his time alone. He got the same whispers he had in the Shire, but he was satisfied with his cooking and working in the garden. Except… on the days there were no social calls, no family dinners, Bilbo Baggins sat in a very quiet house and talked to nothing.

“You know-” Bilbo said to no one in particular as he weeded a particularly stubborn patch of grass out from underneath his rose bush. There was a basket of tomatoes ready to be made into a sauce, or maybe used the fish tonight, but he’d seen the weeds and wanted to deal with it before it spread. “-I would have expected the garden to take care of itself when I died. Not to be doing the same tasks as before. But here we are, fighting with weeds, aren’t we Tho-” Bilbo stopped, shook his head, and pushed that thought aside. 

He made dinner for fourteen but only ate for one. The rest got put away for the multitudes of meals of the next day, but almost five years after he’d died he found himself looking at the empty table with a frown.

The next morning he perused his bookshelf until he found a collection of stories. From there, he found tales of the dwarves. He sat in his armchair until a collection of cousins knocked on the door and pulled him away, but he found what he was looking for when he was waiting for a peach pie to bake.

Dwarves belief that they return to the halls of Mahal upon their deaths. From there, they await the Final Battle. Upon the arrival of that day, they will be sent back to rebuild Arda, but until then the dwarves rest in their creator’s halls. 

Bilbo hemmed over that. He wandered down to where most of the Tooks lived, asking if they had any maps or had heard of the Halls before. It was a bit of a long shot, and he wasn’t surprised when they all said no. He returned to his smial and examined his garden. 

“Well-” he said to the same problematic patch of clover that refused to leave. “-I know that dwarves do like their underground tunnels and their mines. And if the Green Lady is married to the Smith, then it stands to reason that they might go underground nearby. I don’t think there’s any harm in looking, I’ll just get a bit dirty and ruin my garden, and I do that on the regular. Or I’ll fall into a great underground river and run back into Gollum.” Bilbo sighed, then went to see if he could borrow Hamfast’s good shovel.

There was a patch of yard in the back Bilbo had been planning on planting carrots in, but he had a better idea now. He wiggled his toes in the cool earth, nodded, and stretched out his shoulders. Then Bilbo Baggins put his shovel into the soil and started to dig.

It took quite a bit of time, but he didn’t get as tired as he had in his old age and he didn’t have to take as many breaks. Death might mean you didn’t have to eat, or sleep, but it was routine, and he had dinner with his parents that were tradition. One day, maybe, he’d be able to bring more than just himself and whatever his mother wanted him to bring for dessert, but he pushed the idea of muddy boots and braids out of his mind in favor of helping his mother finish up the roast. 

“What are you doing, Bilbo?” his father asked during one dinner. “Gorbadoc says he hasn’t seen you at the Green Dragon in some time.” 

“I’m digging a tunnel.” Bilbo said matter of factly. “I’m going to try to find the halls of Mahal.” His parents looked at each other for a minute. 

“What for?”

“I… suppose it’s just because I can.”

“Have you considered asking the faunts?” Belladonna suggested as she took a second helping of mashed potatoes. “I’m sure they’d be more than thrilled to be asked to ruin a garden.” Bilbo considered that.

“I think this something I want to do myself.”

Bilbo digged and digged. The hole was big enough for him to stand in rather comfortably, though he had to dig some stair-like notches into the side so he could get in and out. It took almost a week of non-stop digging to reach literal rock bottom, and then he was left with a conundrum. He’d dented Hamfast’s good shovel, so he returned it with an apology and a promise to pay him back, but would Hamfast please lend him a good pickaxe?

Bilbo woke up that next morning with arms that were incredibly sore and demanded he take a day, if not more, off. He agreed. The dwarves had waited this long, they could wait a bit longer. Bilbo went to market, got a drink, avoided questions about what he was up to, dodged a few nosy grandparents, and returned home with arms full of goods. The next day he baked an apology pie for the Gamgees and sent his mother and father cookies, lounging for the rest of the afternoon with a good book. On the third day his arms didn’t yell at him for raising them above his head, so Bilbo hoisted his pickaxe. 

“How’s your hole going?” Belladonna asked as she took out a tart to cool. It was nearly time for the harvest festivals. Hobbits loved to work in their fields and grow their goods, and that meant the harvest festivals of the Shire still went on. That meant competitions (his mother was entering a lovely pumpkin she’d been growing all year, while his father was entering in a poetry competition) and baking, canning for the winter, and family time. 

“Rather well, I like to think!” Bilbo gave the bread he was kneading one last good push. “I think I’ve nearly reached it, the rocks started to change to the next type of rock underground that I read about in the book that Adamantius lent me last week. It’s supposed to mean you’ve gotten to the next layer or… something. The book was rather complicated. I suppose I’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Maybe you’ll have it fixed in time for the summer planting competitions.” His father brushed his hands off on an apron as he came in from the garden with a basket of potatoes, placing them on the counter and taking a moment to kiss Belladonna’s cheek. For a moment Bilbo wondered if soon he’d be seeing his dwarves, be able to kiss one particular cheek, but he pushed those thoughts aside. It was possible he was nowhere near being able to see his dwarves, but that was a thought he’d deal with when he came to it. He was nothing if not practical, as a Baggins (no, Baggins weren’t actually practical, he knew that now, but don’t bother telling the Baggins side that) and he didn’t want to consider that what if.

“Maybe.” he ceded. “But I’m hoping that I’ll be able to make it a permanent feature.”

Bilbo returned to his hole the day after the festivals had finally finished. His larder was filled to bursting, along with all his storage rooms, and he was just planning on doing a little bit of work before settling in with a nice book. 

That plan fell a bit short, though. He drove his pickaxe in rather deeply and the earth suddenly crumbled all around him. Bilbo let out a yell as he fell through a suddenly rather large hole, landing with a rather sharp thwack on something… surprisingly soft. 

When he looked around, he found that he was surrounded by an incredible amount of short, bearded people wearing multiple colors and gems. 

Dwarves. 

He looked up and found an incredible amount of sunlight falling on him, along with a decent amount of dirt. 

It seemed he’d found the Halls of Mahal. Now the question was how to get back to Yavanna’s Gardens. 

...he’d cross that road when he got to it. For now, he had dwarves to find, and, uh, oh dear. The dwarf he was sitting on didn’t look very happy. He jumped off of the poor dwarf’s back.

“I’m so terribly sorry-” Bilbo offered the dwarf a hand. They were covered in braids, with long black hair, and Bilbo tried to dust them off once they were up. “-I had no idea I’d almost broken through like that, I would’ve given some warning.”

“You’re what’s been making all that noise?” a dwarf behind him said. Bilbo turned on his heel. This dwarf was dressed like a miner. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“The noise-” the dwarf gestured at the ceiling. “-for the past month, we’ve been getting this awful banging- that’s coming from you? But you’re a halfling!” There was a great deal of yelling at that as the crowd of dwarves surrounding Bilbo all realized what he was. Bilbo felt his cheeks heated up with rage. 

“What do you mean a halfling fell through the ceiling?!” someone bellowed after several minutes where Bilbo couldn’t get his voice loud enough. There was a great deal of pushing through the crowd and Bilbo offered another apology to the poor dwarf he’d probably concussed in his fall. 

“I’ll have you know I’m not half of anything!” He said loudly into the suddenly silent hall, but there was a further commotion.

“That’s not just a halfling that our halfling!” Bofur, that was Bofur, he knew that voice. A bald dwarf covered in tattoos practically rammed his way through the crowd and there were all his dwarves, looking alive and well and whole, no blood or funeral garb, no sorrowful letters or tearful tales from Frodo about bodies and ancient stone walls. He was hugging them, pinching cheeks and smiling as wide as he had in some time. He did a quick head count - twelve. Where was thirteen, where was-

Oh.

There he was. 

Thorin was standing at the other end of the mass of dwarves in the hall, firelight glinting off the silver in his hair and around his neck. There was no sign of gold or bronze, just silver. He practically blended into the cave wall in his nearly black clothes but Bilbo met those beautiful blue eyes and something just clicked. He was covered in dirt, and in his gardening clothes. He looked a mess, he was sure of it, but Thorin was looking at him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. 

“Master Burglar.” Thorin’s voice rumbled across the nearly silent crowd. 

A moment later he and Bilbo met in the center of the path, both having run as fast as their feet could carry them. Bilbo’s fingers curled into the thick, wiry hair and he inhaled the smell that was undeniably Thorin. 

“I thought I told you to call me Bilbo.” he said in a thick voice after a moment. “Or should I be calling you your majesty?”

“No.” Thorin said instantly. He shook his head and Bilbo felt the gentle thuds as beads connected with his skull. “No. Never you.” 

They looked at each other for a moment. Thorin didn’t have the wrinkles around his face anymore, the silver in his hair was less than it had been, but there was still that shadowed look in his eyes. Bilbo took a quick breath, then leaned up and kissed his cheek like his father kissed his mother’s, like he’d been thinking about for ages and ages. 

“Hello.” he whispered. “Hello, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Hello, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.” Thorin’s face was flushed now, but he reached up and brushed his thumb along Bilbo’s jaw. 

“That counts as a kiss!” someone bellowed. There was a loud thud and the dwarf, definitely Nori, yelped. “That hurt!” 

“Bilbo can we get a boat through your hole?” Fili called. A moment later there was a thud and both Fili and Kili were there, smushing Bilbo into the center of a Durin family hug. 

“A bo- what do you need a boat for?”

“I want to find Tauriel.” Kili sounded elated. “If you could get through, then she-”

“Boys, I have to get back up myself, I can’t just pull up a boat-”

“What about cheese?” Bofur piped up. Bilbo realized that the entire company had encircled him. He was surrounded in a mass of dwarves. Stinky, hugging-too-tight, wonderful dwarves that he’d missed. “Bombur’s been talking about that recipe you sent him-”

“He sent me dozens of recipes, you’ll have to be more specific-” Bombur started. 

“I told you he could break in, I don’t know why you’re still not giving me money!” that was Nori again, directed at Balin.

“These are the Halls-” Balin began.

“Bullshit, this is Bilbo, he stole from a dragon! This is all in a day’s work for him!” 

“Have you seen my Gimli up there?” That was Gloin. “You know, my beautiful laddy, with the curly red hair and the most beautiful eyes, I haven’t been able to find him and we haven’t heard anything about him in a long time for a while, I’m starting to get worried-”

“He just got here, Gloin, don’t start yelling about your kid again-” that was a voice he didn’t totally recognize but he saw Bifur without an axe and grinning widely as he spoke. 

Bilbo looked back up at Thorin, who was smiling at him in a way that made him come into focus and drown everything else out. 

“I’m glad to see you, Bilbo.” 

“I’m glad to see you too.” Bilbo smiled back at him. His dwarf reached up as if to touch his face again, but faltered.

“We’ve… we’ve got a lot to talk about.” 

“We do.” Bilbo agreed. “Bu-”

“Bilbo?” Someone shouted down the hole. He recognized his mother after a moment. He struggled out of the throng of dwarves much like a whale breaching for air. There was a shadow over the patch of sunlight from above, bits of dirt trickling in. 

“I’m fine!” he yelled back. “Be careful, it’s a pretty hard landing at the bottom, I don’t want you to slip!”

“Wait that’s the burglar?” someone in the crowd said. There was a loud shushing noise, a thwap, and an ow. 

“Are you hurt?”

“No, Mum, I’m alright!”

“Wait is that your mother?!” Kili and Fili said together. 

“Did you find your dwarves?”

“I’m going to regret this-” Bilbo sighed, then he pitched his voice back up high. “I fell but I’m alright, I just didn’t realize how far down I was!” He paused for a moment, then shouted back. “Do we still have the apple picking ladders?”

“I’m sure we can dig one up-” there was his father. Poor Bungo was probably tearing his hair out. “-are you hurt?”

“No, he’s not, he said he’s alright-” his mother’s voice was muffled. “-we’ll go check, darling, stay out of trouble!” 

“Can you throw down some cheese?” Bofur shouted. 

“Bofur!”

“Oh some apples would be lovely.” Dori sighed. 

“And some apples!” Bofur yelled a bit louder. 

“Just send down his whole larder!” Kili yelled. “And a boat! I need the hole to be big enough for a boat!”

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. This hole was comfortable, and warm, and cozy. It was also full of Bilbo Baggins’ things. This hobbit had lived a remarkable life and thus his home was quite remarkable in many ways, but the most intriguing bit about this hole was the larger hole in the backyard. It was surrounded by stones, with a lovely set of carved steps going up to the house. It led to a sturdy but worn wooden ladder that had been used for apple picking but now served to connect the Halls of Mahal to Gardens of Yavanna. This ladder fell in the center of a massive stone hall, which was filled with flowers that hobbits would come down to tend to. The two races regularly wandered through Bilbo Baggins’ garden to meet - dwarves would come up for market day bearing gifts and coins, eyeing steaming bread and crisp red apples, while some of the more adventurous hobbits would slide down the ladder to inquire about repairs for their tools. 

For Bilbo, though, this hole meant so much more. It meant thirteen dwarves crashing into his house ridiculously early in the morning to nag him into making them breakfast. It meant having his family, blood and not, over for dinner. It meant listening to his mother talk with Dori and Balin about tea, to his father engage Fili and Ori into long tales of age-old tales. It eventually meant Kili tugging a tall, red-haired elf into Bag End no. 2, covered in water while a tired Fili collapsing into a chair complaining that Kili and Tauriel hadn’t stopped making doe-eyes at each other. 

It meant that, after a long conversation with tears and laughter and shy touches, Bilbo made dinner with a dwarf that made him laugh as he stole pie filling and got flour on his nose and in his beard. It meant that Bilbo would come back to market to find someone frowning on his porch with little metal bits twisted in his lap as he worked on making ornaments for Bilbo’s garden. It meant that Bilbo Baggins woke up next to Thorin Oakenshield, one hand tangled in that beautiful dark hair. It meant that they sat on the bench under the oak tree and blew smoke rings into the setting sun, holding hands.

When Frodo Baggins finally entered Yavanna’s Gardens, he found his uncle beaming like he hadn’t in years, with a braid in his curls and a ring on his finger. There were thirteen dwarves in the living room, and Frodo was just in time for tea.

---

Thanks for reading!

This is based off of a post made by @wheeloffortune-design about Bilbo digging his way into Halls of Mahal, which has literally been living in my brain since I read it. (and @gallusrostromegalus put down some delightfully funny comments that also made my day) So… here we are. You can find the post here, assuming the link works!

The AO3 link is here!

man i love bagginshield. 

[anastpaul]

Saint of the Day - 22 April - Saint Leonides Adamantius of Alexandria (Died 202) Martyr

Saint of the Day – 22 April – Saint Leonides Adamantius of Alexandria (Died 202) Martyr

Saint of the Day – 22 April – Saint Leonides Adamantius of Alexandria (Died 202) Martyr – Layman – Father of Origen (Adamantius), Husband and Father, Philosopher, Rhetorician, a great scholar. Died by beheading in 202 at Alexandria, Egypt. Patronage – large families. Also known as Leonidas. The Emperor Severus, in the year 202, during the tenth of his reign, raised a bloody persecution, which…

[sebastophanes]

Khairete!

I’m Adamantius: a Byzantine Pagan, a male 25 years of age, and a henopolytheistic devotee of the Divine Emperors of Rome. I made this blog to get out there and connect a little, as well as part of my personal journey toward consecration as a sebastodoulos, or temple-slave/godslave of the Emperors.

Nice to meet everyone!