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arteastica · 3 months

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early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (24)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.4k

As it turned out, taking the post-winter inventory was just as tedious as the winter stockpiling itself, if not a little worse. Your entire arm, from the shoulder down to the pinkie, hurt from holding the heavy logbook; your eyes, from counting every dusty bolt of unused cloth; your back, from bending over to pick up all those fat boxes of untouched grain; and your hand, from writing down all those confusing numbers that had been relentlessly thrown at you all afternoon.

Yes, spending all day inside the storage shed was taxing enough, but you weren’t sure it was worse than what awaited you in your office: The daunting, dragging, and without doubt, ridiculously time-consuming task of condensing all those jumbled up numbers into a detailed log, one that was extensive and comprehensive without turning incomprehensible, so that it could actually be of some use to any ill-starred soldier who found themselves in such dreadful time of the year, when the consultation of dusty old records became inevitable. But hey, the dusty old records left by your predecessors had definitely saved you a frustrated cry or two, so it was only fair you kept the chain going. It was the fair, decent thing to do. Especially when life was so generous to you.

Generous like the orange beams of light seeping through the wood cracks, shining unsparingly on the old cabin walls, as the sun presented its final act of the day. Generous like the ample chorus of cicadas, or perhaps katydids… insects had never been your area of expertise really, performing for free outside the window, announcing that dinner was most likely being served at the castle right now. And you didn’t need to be there to know that the banquet would be generous too, as plentiful and bountiful as the pain all those poor soldiers who spent their day with you at the shed must be enduring at the moment, wincing in pain as they sat down in front of warm meat pies and creamy onion soups. And again, you didn’t need to be there to know that the first comment of the conversation would be something about their feet and how bad they hurt and throbbed inside their boots.

Just like yours did right now.

Yours hurt and throbbed too, but you couldn’t complain.

No, you didn’t feel like doing so. Not even when everyone had already left for the castle and you were still in the shed, in the middle of the woods. Not even when, according to the setting sun and the sudden temperature drop, your shift was supposed to be over by now.

No, you couldn’t complain. Not at all. Definitely not. Especially not when he would kiss you like that, softly and unhurriedly, like the early spring breeze playfully disheveling the tree crowns outside. Not when he would pull away slowly, a smile decorating his glossy lips, admiring you like you belonged in one of those fancy museums your father liked to pretend he visited often. And then, when he seemed to be done memorizing your features, he would pull you in for another kiss, only for the cycle to start all over again. And no matter how many times it had repeated that afternoon, the flutter of butterflies in your stomach was very much ever-present. Without fail, they would show up just as you were about to close your eyes, exactly when his lips were only a hair’s breadth apart from yours. That’s when the butterflies would flutter the most, tickling your insides, and making you giggle.

Making you giggle despite the uncomfortable pile of hay you were sitting on, and the way it was poking your skin through the fabric of your jeans; despite the chilly wind furtively slipping through the cracks of the wood and the way it was making your skin bumpy.

Or maybe it was him the one responsible for that. Maybe it was him, and not the cold, the one responsible for making your hairs stand on end. Yes, maybe it was him and the comfortable hand he kept on the small of your back, gently holding you as yours held his face. Or maybe it was the pleasant way in which the warm sunlight would shine in through the window behind you, artistically gilding the prominent bridge of his nose, masterfully tracing the sharp contour of his jaw, delicately sprinkling the mesmerizing blue of his eyes with gold, making them look like the forest stream from your cabin fantasy, happily glimmering under the sun.

Is this how it was going to be in there, in your little cabin? Kissing in the kitchen, after he comes back from work. His lips on yours the moment he walks in, effectively cutting the words ‘welcome back’ short, promptly trapping them between your lips and his. A reassuring arm wrapped around your waist, telling you how much he missed you. And your hands, cupping his face, telling him how much you did. A wide smile present on your lips the whole time he kisses you, tempted to call it a day already and retreat to the room you share, where you could cuddle under soft, warm covers for the night, but deciding not to when you remember about the pie in the oven. The pie in the oven, you better go check on it. Old-fashioned apples for dinner, because you know how much of a sweet tooth he has, and even though he never asks for it, you always bake something to surprise him with at the end of every meal. Sometimes sugar cream, sometimes orchard pear, sometimes layered pumpkin when you have some extra time, or simple rice pudding when there is none. But always something sweet, sweet like him.

Sweet like the gentle way his lips were cherishing yours back at the dusty storage shed. Softly, unhurriedly, naively, like you had all the time in the world. As if there were no flesh eating giants lurking behind a wall not too many miles away. As if he wasn’t the Commander of the Survey Corps. As if he was just your lover. Simply your beloved and nothing more, the owner of those soft lips now making wet pops against yours, those velvety lips now softly trapping your bottom lip between them, pulling away deliciously slowly, just to start all over again.

Yes, when he was standing between your legs like that, warm chest rising and falling against yours, hand gently holding you close to him, and yours lovingly caressing the bristly skin of his cheek as if it was the softest thing you’d ever get to touch, he became less of a military leader and more like your lover.

“We should get going before it gets too dark.” You said somewhere in between the sugar pecks he was lavishly indulging you with.

“I could kiss you the whole day.” He said, lips puffy and a little red from dancing with yours.

And I could kiss you my whole life. You thought as you stared into his eyes, allowing yourself to travel back to your fantasy cabin for a moment, running a finger across his swollen bottom lip, moist and coated with your saliva. “Well, you can keep kissing me in the office. I happen to have all night as well as a very nice boss who, I’m sure, will understand if I don’t finish this report today.” You smiled cheekily, tapping the papers you had placed in the pile of hay next to you.

“Is that so?” He smiled back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Is he good to you?”

“Very good.” You smirked, emphasizing that last word with a sultry whisper. “He buys me my favorite treats, takes me to fancy parties and then walks me home, doesn’t like it when I work extra hours, puts more wood on the fire as soon as he notices I’m getting cold; oh! and during expeditions, he lets me hug him if I’m scared.” You reminisced fondly of that day, wondering if sometimes he too found himself thinking about the first time you were in each other’s arms, in the Forest of Giant Trees. “He treats me like I’m his princess. Especially when I lie bare on his bed and he makes love to me.”

He stared at you in silence, his attention shifting between your eyes and your lips, and his smile mirroring yours. His demeanor reminded you of the strategic leader he would become at the meeting room, always unpredictable, always ahead of everyone and everything, an experienced chess player meticulously evaluating what his next big move should be. And for a moment, you thought it would involve his lips colliding with yours again, devouring you, your face, your body, as well as your clothes in the process. Making you his right there in the middle of the storage shed, on top of all that prickly hay, like in one of those steamy novels your mother would pretend she didn’t keep under the bedroom mattress. But no, he was too much of a gentleman to do so when you were still in the middle of a conversation.

“Well, maybe because you are.” He finally said, his hand traveling back to your waist and, in a sudden and rather possessive manner, bringing your body closer to his, causing an excited whimper to escape your lips. “His princess.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, the words tickling your ears and making you feel as giddy as you remembered your teenage years to be. And like so, you let yourself melt into his embrace, head resting on his chest, and his lullaby heartbeat tempting you to tell him.

About the cabin in the woods.

Who knows? Maybe he knew of a vacant one, where you could move together. Maybe he had also been thinking about it lately, about moving somewhere quiet and remote. Somewhere where the title of ‘13th Commander of the Survey Corps’ didn’t mean anything. Somewhere where he could wake up after eight on rainy Sundays, grab that old history book, or that blue one with the golden title he was always re-reading, a warm cup of something, and lose himself until lunchtime. Somewhere where he could settle down. With you. The white ceremony in the garden, and maybe later, not too long after that, the very same garden becoming the playground where blonde-haired, blue-eyed toddl-

“Would you be interested in visiting the capital next weekend?” He asked, the sudden question pulling you back to the present moment, and making you sit straight so you could come eye to eye with him. He didn’t have any scheduled meetings in Mitras until the end of next month. “My good friend Hansel will be celebrating his Golden Birthday and he asked me to join.”

You knew he wasn’t particularly keen on those types of gatherings, not only that but, with so much on his plate, he didn’t have the disposition nor the freedom to attend that sort of event. So you figured Lord Koch must be a truly remarkable friend for him to consider attending.

“When he came to deliver the horses last week, he also extended his invitation. Admittedly, I did find it odd at first, that he came all the way down here instead of sending his nephews or assistants like he always does.” He explained, his warm fingertips absentmindedly drawing patterns on the small of your back.

Having grown up listening to your father’s stories about Lord Koch, and never really meeting him formally until recently, you had formed your very own ideas about the man. He seemed to be one of those people who would gladly sell their soul if it meant sorcery could multiply them. One of those folks who wished they could, and since they had money… always could, be a part of everything, everywhere, at the same time, and multiple times. Cutting the ribbon at the latest museum inauguration in the morning, accepting the community leader award at his local temple before noon, participating in both a regional chess tournament and a charity auction by four in the afternoon, feeding the poor in the underground cities at six, attending his grandkid’s academy play before speaking at the annual gala for his family foundation, and then finally getting to take his wife on that lavish trip they planned for commemorating their over-thirty years of marriage. Yes, it made sense he never came down here.

“I was told the bearer of the invitation could bring a companion.” His husky, velvety voice gently brought you back to the shed. Once again, you had gotten lost in your own head. It was particularly easy to do so these days.

“Is that so?” You teased, the butterflies in your stomach already flapping their colorful wings, as your heartbeat began to mirror those of a hummingbird. But he would never be able to tell, if the only thing he had to go by was the manual dexterity your fingers displayed as they straightened up the collar of his shirt. “Are you going to invite Captain Levi? I’m sure everyone at the reception would be delighted to meet Humanity’s Strongest.”

“They most certainly would, but Levi would be less than thrilled.” He smiled innocently, clearly playing along with you. “Not to mention the unfortunate remark I found at the bottom of the invitation, which only acts as yet another deterrent to Levi’s participation: ‘feasting and dancing to follow, the right company is advised.’” He looked you in the eyes, a serious expression suddenly taking over his previously soft, amused features. “I’m afraid Levi doesn’t enjoy dancing.”

You let out a hearty laugh that your mother would have undoubtedly found inappropriate, tickled by both the words as well as the disappointed tone he had chosen for delivering them. And he just looked at you the whole time, letting your laughter fill the room, allowing your joy to warm up the frigid evening air. A sweet smile on his lips as you struggled to regain your composure; once again making you feel like the most absorbing of art works, and making it even harder to forget about your forest fantasy.

“That’s why I’m asking my princess.” He said a little later when your laughter faded down. “For the pleasure of her company.”

You weren’t sure he could hear the champagne popping, the frenzied flutter of the butterflies, or the fireworks show he had started inside you; but you knew, because of the way your ears started burning, that he could definitely see the flustered pinks that had taken over your face, as well as the beaming smile you were trying to hide. Yes, you had made love a couple times already, his lips had spent entire nights on yours, his fingers had explored and conquered places no one else’s had before, he had met you at times of the night where friends, and let alone bosses, never do. But this… this was the first time he had straight up asked you to go somewhere together. Not only that, but in the place that husbands usually reserve for their wives. So all things considered, you couldn’t blame your lungs for their sudden inability to hold air, nor your imagination for all the crazy detours it started to take.

“What does she say?” He asked softly, a small, irresistible smile on his equally tantalizing lips as he pointlessly re-tucked an already perfectly tucked strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hmm.” You raised a finger to your chin and pursed your lips, pretending to think. As if there was something to even think about in the first place.

You weren’t too keen on that type of social gathering yourself, or any type for that matter, but you had endured your fair share of frivolous socializing and marble ballroom occasions during your teenage years, for no reason other than your mother telling you to attend. So, why wouldn’t you do it one more time? This time for him, and for the rare opportunity to see him gift-wrapped in something other than his uniform, for the chance to feast on the sinful way the fabric would most definitely cling to his firm biceps, his rock-solid chest, that delicious ass and the matching pair of perfectly designed thighs that came with it. And when your mind began to explore the possibility of seeing his hair slicked back again, a pulsating warmth started radiating from between your legs

“I think you will encounter no difficulties at the party, Mr. Commander.” You said, your eyes watching your fingers as they fiddled with the emerald oval in his shirt. “Bet there will be lots of fair ladies eagerly waiting for you to extend your hand and lead them into the dance floor.” Your lips curved slightly, enjoying the feeling of his hard muscles under your hands as you glided them down his broad chest. “I don’t know. Maybe even some old lover, trying to make up for lost time.”

“I don’t consider any of those to be likely scenarios.”

“Really? No past lovers wishing to pick up the threads? I don’t believe that.” You smiled, feeling his eyes on you, but choosing to keep yours on the patterns your fingertips were now drawing on his chest. “Something tells me you were quite the charmer when you were a cadet.” You said, finally looking up to meet his eyes before comfortably wrapping your arms around his neck. “Tell me, did you break a lot of hearts back in training camp?”

“Quite the opposite actually.” He replied, something about his demeanor, probably the contrived innocence you found in his eyes, making you question the veracity of his answer.

“So, you’re telling me that all those skills are the result of sheer talent, and that assiduous practice wasn’t a factor at all?” You asked, unable to believe that all the skill he displayed in bed, all the delicious things he did to you, and all the delightful ways he made your body feel, all that came from natural talent alone.

“It’s a long story.” He answered, his hand going back to the spot he liked, at the small of your back.

“I have time.” You said, despite the logbook and the fat pile of papers beside you suggesting the complete opposite. “You can tell me about it now, or…” Your smile mirrored the one that suddenly took over his features, telling you that he already knew what your words would be. “You can tell me next weekend, when you walk me home.”

His eyes traveled back and forth between yours and your lips, reminding you of both your late-night chocolate cravings and a wolf stalking an innocent prey. And then, reluctantly letting your arms drop from their comfortable position around his neck, you added:

“Oh, my bad. How pretentious of me to assume without asking first. Would you please be so kind as to walk me home this time too, Commander Smith?” You asked, already knowing the answer, but pretending to wait for it, as your fingers fiddled with the strings of his bolo tie.

“Even if you lived on the other side of town.” He replied, his rich, irresistible voice making you think of crackling campfires under vast, starry skies.

“Really? I heard Lord Koch’s Mitras estate is in the very outskirts of town.” You teased, playfulness making your lips curve into a mischievous grin.

“I’d walk you home even if it was in Wall Maria itself.”

“Wow, that’s very far to go for someone, Mr. Commander. Especially when that someone is just your assistant.”

He shook his head lightly before replying. “I’d think of it as another felicitous opportunity to spend time with her, which would be heaven-sent indeed, considering I just miss her all the time.” He confessed, bringing your body closer to his, and making the tips of your noses touch. “Even now.”

And you had to fight the overpowering urge to kiss those lips, the urge to behave in very unladylike manners and ask him, beg him, to do equally indecorous things to you with those beautiful, perfectly round, sinfully soft lips that were smiling so prettily at you right now.

“Is that so?” You smirked, wrapping your legs around his waist and trapping him between your thighs. “There, now you can’t escape her.”

“Wasn’t trying to.” He whispered, his voice so deep and so smoky it made you think of the fireplace back at the castle, not the one in your office however, but the one in his room. In front of his warm, soft, tempting bed. As familiar and homelike as the one in your very own room back in Mitras.

And you stole a peck from his smiling lips, before happily returning your arms to their favorite position around his neck, where your fingers started playing with the short hairs on his nape.

You weren’t the biggest admirer of Leon’s uncle. Not that he had done anything bad to you. In fact, you had barely interacted with the man. Admittedly, you did remember cursing his name on an occasion or two, but that had been so long ago. So long you had almost entirely forgotten about it.

You started to reminisce, discovering your own reflection in the beautiful sapphires now staring back at you.

During your academy days, perhaps? When you were still living back home, and your father used to come back late every Thursday. Because Thursdays were his anticipated ‘chess nights’ with Lord Koch, which you had always suspected to be just a façade for their conspiracy theory club. You see, there was only one thing, other than your mother’s green tomato pie, that would make your father’s eyes sparkle the way they did on Thursday nights, and that was royal conspiracy theories.

He believed King Fritz was just an impostor, a very apathetic an alcoholic one, a puppet king placed on the throne by the council for some questionable reason, for the sake of some secret agenda they were trying to hide from the common folks. And that very reason, and not chess, was what his little club sat down to discuss every Thursday. There was no way your father would enjoy a chess club, because if there were two things everyone knew about him was that, one, he hated losing, and two, he never won at chess.

But that’s besides the point. You remember growing to dislike Lord Koch over the years because he used to keep your father for far too long at those so-called ‘chess meetings’, which usually translated in your stomach growling for hours until he finally decided to come home, because your mother always insisted that ‘eating together as a family’ was important, and that the loss of such tradition was slowly leading to the demise of society. But those days were long gone and forgotten, and you liked to think you weren’t good at keeping score or holding grudges against random people.

So no, it definitely wasn’t that. The disfavor you, inadvertently, still regarded Lord Koch with was more irrational than anything else, similar to when you would find a classmate, either from academy or training camp, insufferably annoying but could never give a valid reason why. Maybe it was because Lord Koch always wanted to be a part of everything. Maybe it was because everyone seemed to be obsessed with him and you didn’t understand why. Or maybe it was because he had happened to show up then, when the Commander and you were going through difficult times. Yes, maybe it was that. Maybe it was your brain unknowingly associating him with the bad memories from that day: the Commander coming back after spending the whole day riding out in the field with him, asking you if there was something between you and Leon. Why would he even-

“What is it?” He suddenly asked, bringing you back to the dark shed, making you realize that night had fallen over you, and that the moonlight sparkled way more prettily on his eyes than it ever did on the surface of the water. “You’re so quiet.”

“Nothing.” You replied, the corners of your lips instantly lifting at the sound of his voice. “I was just thinking about how much my father sucks at chess, about the King’s seemingly worsening alcohol problems, about how nicely the moonlight complements your features, and about my dresses and which one would be the easiest for you to take off me.”

“Wow.” He blinked a couple times as if trying to understand how were all those things related to each other. “That’s- that’s a very interesting, very peculiar association of ideas. Each one more thought-provoking than the other. Especially the last one.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“Erwin.”

“Mhm?”

You weren’t sure if this was the moment to talk about it, but you found the loving way his eyes were studying your features, as well as the soothing thumb he was running across your cheek rather encouraging. So, you decided to go ahead.

“Did-” You took a deep breath. “Did Lord Koch tell you something back then?”

He didn’t respond and you took his silence as an indication that you could ask more.

“Did he mention anything that made you think there was something between his neph-”

“That doesn’t matter.” He hushed you just like he had back then, when you had tried to ask about the same thing. “All that matters to me is what we have.” He took your hand and brought it to his lips. “Right now.” His eyes were crystal clear, and what you saw in them was exactly what he was telling you. “Whatever happened yesterday, whatever happens tomorrow…all that matters to me is that we had today.” He kissed your knuckles, letting the pleasant warmth of his lips linger on your skin, closing his eyes tightly as if trying to carve the moment into his memory. “And I will always remember it.”

“Me too.” You said, nostalgia suddenly infusing the air of the cabin, creeping into your heart and burdening it with unexplainable melancholy.

I love you.

You confessed in your head as your fingers played with the soft, golden strands on the back of his.

Perhaps all that matters is that I love you. That I love you even if you didn’t say it yesterday and even if you don’t say it tomorrow.

You said in your thoughts as you pulled him closer.

Even if I never get to hear it back from these very lips.

You told him without words, as your lips welcomed his.

Even if they never return these words.

You surrendered without a fight as his tongue claimed what was rightfully his.

I love you just the same, Commander.

You promised him in silence, tasting in his kiss both the bitterness of the lemon and the sweetness of the honey you never forgot to add to his warm cups in the morning.

And I will always do.

Including busy mornings like today's, when it remained forgotten on his desk, still silently waiting for him in the middle of the cold, dark office.

next chapter

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xipiti · 2 months

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Brace yourselves, Illinoisans: A truly shocking number of cicadas are about to live, make sweet love, and die in a tree near you. Two broods of periodical cicadas—Brood XIX on a 13-year cycle and Brood XIII on a 17-year cycle—are slated to emerge together in central Illinois this summer for the first time in over two centuries. To most humans, they’re an ephemeral spectacle and an ear-splitting nuisance, and then they’re gone. To many other Midwestern animals, plants, and microbes, they’re a rare feast, bringing new life to forests long past their death.

From Nebraska to New York, 15 broods of periodical cicadas grow underground, quietly sipping watery sap from tree roots. After 13 or 17 years (depending on the brood), countless inch-long adults dig themselves out in sync, crawling out of the ground en masse for a monthlong summer orgy. After mating, they lay eggs in forest trees and die, leaving their tree-born babies to fall to the forest floor and begin the cycle anew. Cicadas don’t fly far from their birthplace, so each brood occupies a distinct patch of the US. “They form a mosaic on the landscape,” says Chris Simon, senior research scientist in ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Connecticut.

Most years, at least one of these 15 broods emerges (annual cicadas, not to be confused with their smaller periodical cousins, pop up separately every summer). Sometimes two broods emerge at the same time. It’s also not unheard of for multiple broods to coexist in the same place. “What’s unusual is that these two broods are adjacent,” says John Lill, insect ecologist at George Washington University. “Illinois is going to be ground zero. From the very top to the very bottom of the state, it’s going to be covered in cicadas.” The last time that these broods swarmed aboveground together, Thomas Jefferson was president and the city of Chicago had yet to exist.

#illinois #cicada #bugs #bug time

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sketching-shark · 1 year

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Can you give an example of what are your yaoguai Golden Cicada's desires be would even be. Like I always thought the reason he fell asleep during class was that he was just a dumb teenager (cause cicadas emerge around 13-17 years even though most have a life cycle of 2-5) who'd over worked himself to the point of exhaustion and never asked for help. I thought that was point of all the kidnappings to force "Cicada" to realize that he needed help weather he liked it or not

Although now that I'm typing this out he might have been lonely. It couldn't have been easy to be an adult cicada and just kept on living, while the rest of his brood die after two months. Is he the only bug immortal? Does he have someone to confide in that understands?(Sorry if this is a lot, I just really like cicada)

Well anon in all honestly this is something I haven't even thought about that hard eawgrgrefed. If anything this was just based on my own personal and perhaps faulty sense of "falling asleep during a lecture doesn't seem like that big a deal" & "spending ten lives in the dust of Earth makes a lot more sense if his 'heedlessness' of Buddha was something much worse." And as per usual it needs to be acknowledged that the religious name "Golden Cicada" could be much more of a metaphor for rebirth/the 'casting off' of worldly desires than having anything to do with the actual insects. But we have very little information on who or what Golden Cicada "canonically" was, so that leaves a lot of room for interpretation.

AND SO THAT SAID you are bringing in some interesting potentials for this slowly formulating pre-Xiyouji tale anon! Because in JTTW we do encounter a number of yaoguai who earned their power and 'human' form from surreptitiously listening to the teachings of various boddhisatvas, and it could make for an interesting story if Buddha's second disciple started out life as an actual cicada who Buddha gladly granted a human form to in a similar way but deliberately when he saw the little insect listening to him intently. One one hand such a major transformation really would be an example of the mutability of all things and perhaps an act of mercy on the Buddha's part under the assumption that only humans have a chance of achieving enlightenment. And perhaps for some time (for we don't know how long Golden Cicada maintained the position of Buddha's second disciple) his life was one of peace and contemplation. But oh how things can change.

Maybe Golden Cicada came to formulate a sense that for as pleased and as proud as he was to be Buddha's second disciple, the others still saw him as less because of his insect origin. Maybe his status as Buddha's second disciple came with all kinds of pressure to always behave in an idealized way, something that could be very frustrating for Golden Cicada, especially if this was his first time being a human and having all these human emotions and having to follow all these human rules that he never experienced as a cicada. So maybe he starts putting more and more pressure and expectations on himself to figure out how he's Supposed To Act Like The Perfect Human without really understanding (or even at times refusing to accept) that these are things you can't simply immediately pick up and need someone to guide you, partially because of a holdover of the fact that cicadas rely on no one but themselves to survive from day one, and partially because he convinced himself he has an image to maintain as Buddha's second disciple. So he spends his nights studying later and later, and his days feeling like he can't tell anyone about his troubles because he needs to hold himself to a certain standard. And, well, there's no one in the heavenly realm or at the Thunderclap Monastery is quite like him. Even the Buddha's compassion couldn't erase that fact. It all makes Golden Cicada a little standoffish and surly, even while he still maintains his pride for his closeness to the Buddha.

And then one fateful day, in spite of all of his studies and efforts to maintain the image of the perfect disciple, Golden Cicada commits what seems to him an unforgivable act; he falls asleep while Buddha is giving a lecture. When he wakes up from the Buddha gently shaking his shoulder, he sees that all of the other disciples are staring at him. Some are whispering and quietly laughing, likely finding it hilarious that the prideful second disciple would have committed this error. The Buddha simply smiles and tells Golden Cicada to rest better at night before resuming his teaching.

But for the rest of that lecture, Golden Cicada doesn't pay any attention, too stung by humiliation and a bruised sense of pride. He was trying SO HARD to be the perfect disciple, and this is where it got him.

After the lecture, Golden Cicada wanted to flee, but instead he stays behind at the Buddha's request. He expects to be punished for having disrespected his teacher. Instead, however, the Buddha says that he knows about the late nights of study and the restless days of uncertainty and haughtiness that currently define Golden Cicada's life. The Buddha had been waiting patiently for Golden Cicada to actively tell his teacher about his troubles, but he sees that his second disciple has fallen prey to a very common mistake; that in his efforts to seem worthy of his position, Golden Cicada was allowing his character to diminish through a refusal to do anything that might appear to harm his image, even asking for help. The Buddha tells Golden Cicada that he is far from the first to do so, even stating that he himself had once fallen prey to this mentality; how in the Buddha's own youth, he never even thought to look "below" his high caste station, believing he would be forever happy as one of the best of humanity, when in truth he was nothing but an overindulged and spoiled prince who only learned about suffering in the world when he grew so bored of pleasure that he decided on a whim to see what lay beyond the palace doors. It was only after the shock of realizing how wrong his sense of himself and his understanding of the world was that he was able to start his journey of Enlightenment and become the Buddha.

What the Buddha thus wanted Golden Cicada to understand through this honestly minor mistake is that there's a vast abyss between striving to look like you're an Enlightened individual, and genuinely striving to be an Enlightened individual. That to truly achieve Enlightenment, Golden Cicada needs to comprehend how harmful his ego is even to himself; to accept that an active effort to cultivate oneself requires developing genuine and active compassion for all living things, including himself, so that he can forgive himself for the ignorance all are born within, and use that hard-won knowledge to take one step after another towards nirvana.

The Buddha understood that his second disciple was terrified his teacher would be angry. But of course he's not. Golden Cicada is still very young, younger than even the Buddha was when he first embarked on his own true steps towards Enlightenment. And the Buddha has experienced for himself how difficult it is to achieve this without a few human mistakes.

Golden Cicada is still embarrassed, but he is relieved that his teacher isn't angry with him. And in all honestly, he can see the merit of the Buddha's words. He thanks the Buddha for his understanding and for the lesson, and goes about his day feeling lighter than he has for a long time.

And yet...and yet Golden Cicada cannot (will not) ignore the light teasing some of his fellow disciples send his way. Every question that reveals his ignorance seems like a barb against his sense of self. His origin as a cicada still seems to stand as an unbreachable void between himself and every other entity in both heaven and at the Thunderclap Monastery. And though he cannot admit it, he starts to resent the Buddha for having taken him on as his second disciple. How could his teacher think that giving lectures was the way to solve the world's suffering when there was so much pain he could alleviate if the Buddha only utilized his unfathomable power and made everyone stop being so cruel? How could his act of turning one cicada into a human for a chance at Enlightenment be considered merciful, given that every last one of Golden Cicada's four hundred brothers and sisters, and countless cicadas besides, were doomed to die two months after they emerged from the ground?

Golden Cicada had heard the stories about even deities descending to Earth so that they could live free from the expectations of the heavenly court, embracing and indulging in all the joys that realm had to offer.

He decides to descend as well.

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He has, perhaps, lost all rights to call himself Buddha's second disciple, but Golden Cicada, now bearing multiple insect-like features upon his still mostly human form, finds he no longer cares. Because here there's lots of different people like him; spider yaoguai, scorpion yaoguai, centipede yaoguai, even nine-headed yaoguai insects, and no one bats and eye over any of this. But best of all for Golden Cicada is that NO ONE can deny his power or his high status. Having been the second disciple of the Buddha himself, Golden Cicada's cultivation translated in his yaoguai form to vast magical powers far above that of any other yaoguai he encountered. A number of these yaoguai asked to form a fraternal alliance with him, and for some time Golden Cicada felt that the loneliness which he struggled to ignore in heaven was assuaged.

But his obvious superiority against all others soon leads him to believe that, in truth, he neither wants nor needs any friends or even companions. What Golden Cicada slowly, insidiously, but absolutely comes to desire is pawns who will follow his every order, who will indulge his every whim, who will do everything they can to ensure that his sense of pride remains unchecked. At first the his fellow yaoguai desired his company out of genuine admiration, but now it is all tinged with ever-growing fear as to what Golden Cicada can and will do if they do not obey his commands. As strong as he may be and as much as he has learned about the martial arts in his time on Earth, of course, Golden Cicada has no desire to tangle with the likes of Erlang Shen or Li Nezha. So he keeps all his violence targeted at yaoguai, and grows rich off the treasures from their caves and the labor he forces upon them.

His pride in his power grows ever more monstrous.

On one of his raids against a yaoguai community, Golden Cicada massacres a troop of four-eared yaoguai macaques. The only one he spares is a strange little infant with six ears. For all its crying, he muses on how it would, tied to a post with a golden chain, make for a one-of-a-kind and amusing curiosity in his ever-expanding treasure rooms. A number of the macaques had thrown themselves at his feet and begged Golden Cicada to take everything he wanted, but not their precious infant. They were easy to slaughter.

He didn't kill them for any particular reason. It was just because they were stupid creatures in his way, and because he could.

Soon after, Golden Cicada has an encounter with an enraged monkey wielding an iron staff.

Nine lifetimes later, Tang Sanzang encounters this same monkey, and agrees to free him from under a mountain.

#anon answered #shark's scribbles #lmaooooo sorry that this turned into an entire fic but you got my brain chugging anon #jttw au #golden cicada #tang sanzang #i hope i did the buddha justice but of course don't fail to let me know if i could do better

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kp777 · 1 month

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Excerpt:

This year will see Brood XIX, the largest of all periodical cicada groups, emerge after a 13-year dormancy underground at the same time as Brood XII, a smaller group that appears every 17 years. The emergence will occur in spring, as early as this month in some places, and will see trillions of cicadas pop up in as many as 16 states, from Maryland to Oklahoma and from Illinois to Alabama. This phenomenon, which has been dubbed “cicada-geddon” or “cicada-palooza”, will see huge clumps of cicadas across urban and rural areas, where the insects will make quite a noise – their songs collectively can be louder than a revving motorbike. After a frenzy of calling and mating and being devoured by predators, the cicadas will begin the cycle all over again in July.

#cicada

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muspeccoll · 3 days

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It's cicada season! Our 13-year cicadas in Brood XIX are starting to emerge. We noticed cicada shells scattered across the sidewalks on campus today, and judging from their last appearance in 2011, there are many more to come.

Cicadas don't seem to be in published scientific research until the 19th century. Naturalist Benjamin Banneker recorded cicada broods in 1749, 1766, 1783, and 1800, and was one of the first scientists to observe that this brood emerged on a 17-year cycle. However, racism excluded Banneker from the scientific community, and his research was not published until fairly recently. More about Banneker's research on cicadas.

The images above were published well after Banneker wrote down his observations. They are from the journal American Entomologist, which published an article with illustrations of cicadas in 1868, and asked readers to confirm the emergence of Brood I - another 17-year brood - in 1869.

Watch for more information on periodical cicadas to emerge next week!

#cicadas #entomology #insects #bugblr #bugs #history of science #histsci #mizzou #special collections #libraries #university of missouri #rare books #bookhistory #history #illustration

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astoriachef · 4 months

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This year, the 13-year cicada and 17-year cicada cycles synch up in the US.

This has not happened since 1803.

There’s not a living soul who knows how loud this summer will be.

So good luck with that.

#cicada #cicada screams #17 year cicada #13 year cicada #1803 #welcome to hell

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i-keep-stabbing-my-fingers · 7 months

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Day 10 of Invertober, the Periodical Cicada also known as the 17-year cicada.

These guys have a life cycle from 13-20 years, impressive for such a little guy. They are typically known for emerging every 17 years, hence the nickname.

#magicicada septendecim #periodical cicada #invertober2023 #invertober 2023 #invertober #insect art #autodesk sketchbook #my post #my art

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mittensmorgul · 1 year

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I wanted to share this fun fact about fungi with you and how it relates to spn 11.19, The Chitters! There are these fungi called massopora cicadina that infect cicadas that emerge every 13 or 17 years. The fungi alter their hosts' sexual behavior and fertility so it can infect as many cicadas as possible with their spores. As soon as I heard this presentation, I immediately flashed to that episode because of the VERY close similarities! Thought you'd find that cool :D.

I LOVE FUNGI FUN FACTS! So thank you just on that level.

But yes that DOES seem relevant to the episode. I mean, the chitters/bisaan were even compared to cicadas on their own cycle of emerging/mating periodically, but that's fascinating for the "infecting a host" portion of what these creatures do in order to reproduce. EW! Thank you for this!

(I mean, somehow I'd had the bisaan filed in the same drawer in my brain the glowing tree bugs from the Darkness Falls episode of the xfiles, even if it wasn't right at all, and the fungus connection makes this feel even more appropriate for my mental filing system, so thank you, really!)

(I can't really explain my mental filing system. i do not have a mind palace, i have a mind haunted forest i think :'D)

#spn 11.19 #xfiles darkness falls #fun with fungus

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todaysbug · 2 years

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July 16th, 2022

Pharaoh Cicada (Magicicada septendecim)

The pharaoh cicada is also known as the 17-year locust, is a periodical cicada and the northernmost species with a 17-year lifecycle. They are found in the Midwestern and Eastern US, as well as Southern Canada.

These cicadas have a life cycle of 13 to 21 years, with a median of 17 years from egg to natural adult death. Eggs are laid in twigs, and once they hatch, the nymphs burrow into the earth. They are usually found at a depth of one to three metres, but have been found at a depth of up to nine metres! Nymphs remain underground for almost the entirety of their life cycle, emerging only in the spring of the 17th year. A brood will often all emerge from the ground within a same night. Within a week, males will begin their chorus, heard only once every 17 years! Adults die in early July, and the cycle begins anew.

Pharaoh cicada live in broods of many individuals of differing magicicada species, allowing them to overburden predators. By having such a high population density, the loss of a few individuals during the mating season has little consequence on the overall population numbers. Because of the sheer number of them, males' mating calls can become very loud, to the point of becoming a nuisance. Males make their noises using a pair of rigid membranes near their abdomen called tymbals. The majority of magicicada spp. have five types of calls: an alarm call, a calling song which encourages other males to join in their chorus, and three types of courtship calls.

#today's bug #entomology #insects #cicada #biology #bugs #ecology #nature

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andronetalks · 5 days

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The Earth Is About to Feast on Dead Cicadas

Wired By CELIA FORD SCIENCE – MAY 10, 2024 11:53 AM Brace yourselves, Midwesterners: A truly shocking number of cicadas are about to live, make sweet love, and die in a tree near you. Two broods of periodical cicadas—Brood XIX, which is on a 13-year cycle, and Brood XIII, on a 17-year cycle—have started to emerge together across the Midwest and Southeast US for the first time in more than two…

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jhavelikes · 19 days

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Cicadas comprise a diverse family of over 3,000 insect species found globally, with the majority of their lives spent underground in a larval state. They emerge as adults to transform and mate, with some species appearing annually and others, known as periodical cicadas, synchronizing their emergence every 13 or 17 years. Mathematicians have long been intrigued by the question of why periodical cicadas follow prime number cycles, despite the lack of a clear evolutionary explanation. This year's event involves the 13-year Brood XIX, currently emerging in the Carolinas, followed by the 17-year Brood XIII in the Midwest. There could be a small area of overlap in central Illinois.

Cicada-palooza! Billions of bugs to blanket America

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newstfionline · 22 days

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Thursday, April 25, 2024

World seeing near breakdown of international law amid wars in Gaza and Ukraine, Amnesty says (AP) The world is seeing a near breakdown of international law amid flagrant rule-breaking in Gaza and Ukraine, multiplying armed conflicts, the rise of authoritarianism and huge rights violations in Sudan, Ethiopia and Myanmar, Amnesty International warned Wednesday as it published its annual report. The human rights organization said the most powerful governments, including the United States, Russia and China, have led a global disregard for international rules and values enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, with civilians in conflicts paying the highest price. Agnes Callamard, Amnesty’s secretary general, said the level of violation of international order witnessed in the past year was “unprecedented.” “Israel’s flagrant disregard for international law is compounded by the failures of its allies to stop the indescribable civilian bloodshed meted out in Gaza,” she said. “Many of those allies were the very architects of that post-World War Two system of law.”

Canada hitting the brakes on immigration (Washington Post) Canada’s broad support for immigration has set the country apart. The country is growing fast, with about 98 percent of the rise coming from immigration last year. But now, amid a housing affordability crisis and strain on social services, Trudeau’s government is rolling up the welcome mat for some immigrants. It has capped the number of permanent residents it will welcome, announced a temporary limit on international student visas and pledged to shrink the proportion of the population made up of temporary immigrants.

Pro-Israel groups planning to spend millions in US elections (Guardian) A handful of pro-Israel groups fund political campaigns in support of individual candidates in US elections, led by the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (Aipac), a powerful force in American politics. Before the 2024 election, Aipac plans to spend tens of millions of dollars against congressional candidates, primarily Democrats, whom it deems insufficiently supportive of Israel. Aipac and other pro-Israel lobby groups have recruited and supported challengers to a number of lawmakers and candidates—most notably members of the Squad, the group of progressive representatives who are particularly vocal in their criticism of Israel’s offensive in Gaza. The 2024 election will be bellwether of the enduring impact of these groups on US politics amid shifting US public opinion on Israel.

Cicadas are so noisy in a South Carolina county that residents are calling the police (AP) Emerging cicadas are so loud in one South Carolina county that residents are calling the sheriff’s office asking why they can hear sirens or a loud roar. The Newberry County Sheriff’s Office sent out a message on Facebook on Tuesday letting people know that the whining sound is just the male cicadas singing to attract mates after more than a decade of being dormant. Some people have even flagged down deputies to ask what the noise is all about, Newberry County Sheriff Lee Foster said. Trillions of red-eyed periodical cicadas are emerging from underground in the eastern U.S. this month. The broods emerging are on 13 or 17 year cycles. Their collective songs can be as loud as jet engines and scientists who study them often wear earmuffs to protect their hearing.

Made in Mexico, but made by China (BBC) As the trade war between the US and China shows no sign of ending, Mexico has become an effective backdoor for Chinese capital. Many firms relocate to northern Mexico to save on tariffs and on shipping. The reclining armchairs and plush leather sofas coming off the production line at Man Wah Furniture’s factory in Monterrey are 100% “Made in Mexico”. They’re destined for large retailers in the US, like Costco and Walmart. But the company is from China. As the company’s general manager, Yu Ken Wei, shows me around its vast site, he says the move has made economic and logistical sense. “We hope to triple or even quadruple production here,” he says in perfect Spanish. The firm only arrived in the city of Monterrey in 2022, but already employs 450 people in Mexico.

With public universities under threat, massive protests against austerity shake Argentina (AP) Raising their textbooks and diplomas and singing the national anthem, hundreds of thousands of Argentines filled the streets of Buenos Aires and other cities on Tuesday to demand increased funding for the country’s public universities, in an outpouring of anger at libertarian President Javier Milei’s harsh austerity measures. Students and professors coordinated with the country’s powerful trade unions and leftist political parties to push back against budget cuts that have forced Argentina’s most venerable university to declare a financial emergency and warn of imminent closure. In his drive to reach zero deficit, Milei is slashing spending across Argentina—shuttering ministries, defunding cultural centers, laying off state workers and cutting subsidies. On Monday he had something to show for it, announcing Argentina’s first quarterly fiscal surplus since 2008 and promising the public the pain would pay off. “We are making the impossible possible even with the majority of politics, unions, the media and most economic actors against us,” he said in a televised address.

Ukraine moves to cut off consular services for military-age men abroad (Washington Post) Ukraine’s Foreign Ministry said Tuesday that it would restrict consular services for Ukrainian men of military fighting age who have left the country, potentially cutting off their ability to renew passports or access other essential citizen services. Thousands of Ukrainian men are believed to have left their country rather than risk being drafted to help defend against Russia’s continuing invasion, even though martial law bars men age 18 and over from traveling abroad. Thousands of others were already living abroad, typically to work or study, when Russia invaded in February 2022. The law is intended to help Ukraine overcome a severe shortage of soldiers on the front lines, in part by expanding the pool of men eligible to be drafted.

In Ukraine, Testing New American Technology (NYT) Six years ago, Google signed a small, $9 million contract to put the skills of a few of its most innovative developers to the task of building an artificial intelligence tool that would help the military detect potential targets on the battlefield using drone footage. Now Project Maven has grown into an ambitious experiment being tested on the front lines in Ukraine. So far the results are mixed. The American experience in Ukraine has underscored how difficult it is to get 21st-century data into 19th-century trenches. The war in Ukraine has, in the minds of many American officials, been a bonanza for the U.S. military, a testing ground for Project Maven and other rapidly evolving technologies. The American-made drones that were shipped into Ukraine last year were blown out of the sky with ease. And Pentagon officials now understand, in a way they never did before, that America’s system of military satellites has to be built and set up entirely differently, with configurations that look more like Elon Musk’s Starlink constellations of small satellites.

Martian skies over Athens? Greece’s capital turns an orange hue with dust clouds from North Africa (AP) Skies over southern Greece turned an orange hue on Tuesday as dust clouds blown across the Mediterranean Sea from North Africa engulfed the Acropolis and other Athens landmarks. Strong southerly winds carried the dust from the Sahara Desert, giving the atmosphere of the Greek capital a Martian-like filter in the last hours of daylight. The skies are predicted to clear on Wednesday as winds shift and move the dust, with temperatures dipping. On Tuesday, the daily high in parts of the southern island of Crete topped 30 degrees Celsius (86 Fahrenheit), more than 20 degrees C higher than what was registered in much of northern Greece. The strong southerly winds over the past few days have also fanned unseasonal early wildfires in the country’s south.

Without fanfare, the Philippines is getting richer (Economist) Visitors to the Philippines have ample time to imagine ways to make its transport system less frustrating. When not queuing in rickety airports, they are often stuck in traffic. A typical commute from an outlying suburb to the centre of Manila, the capital, takes two hours, including nearly 30 minutes waiting for a bus to show up. Yet things are improving. Roads are being paved, bridges built. The Philippines is often an afterthought for investors: neither a giant like India nor a manufacturing superstar like Vietnam. But growth has been brisk since 2012 (except during the pandemic). The economy has quietly boomed under a variety of regimes, from the liberal President Benigno Aquino (2010-16) to President Rodrigo Duterte (2016-22). Now, under President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos, growth is expected to be around 6% over the next few years. The World Bank says the Philippines will soon be an upper-middle-income country.

The U.S. is in retreat in a crucial part of the world (Washington Post) For boosters of U.S. security interests in Africa, the past few days carried grim tidings. At the end of last week, the United States informed the coup-plotting leadership of Niger that it would comply with its request to withdraw U.S. forces from the country, which had been operating in a counterterrorism role there for more than half a decade. Around the same time, reports emerged that authorities in Chad had sent a letter this month to the U.S. defense attaché based there, ordering the United States to cease activities at a base that also accommodates French troops. The potential withdrawal of a detachment of U.S. Special Forces based in Chad would mark yet another blow for the Western security presence in the Sahel—the vast arid region that stretches below the Sahara desert that has seen a wave of coups in recent years toppling fragile Central and West African governments. The U.S. exit in Niger follows the arrival of a detachment of Russian military trainers in the country this month. Some Nigeriens who spoke to my colleagues in the capital of Niamey see the junta exercising a new kind of sovereignty after years of overweening French interest. “Why is it a problem for the Americans and France that the Russians are helping us?” Abdoulaye Oussein, 51, said. “I think we’re free to make our own choices.”

Global defence budget jumps to record high of $2.44 trillion (Guardian) There’s something in the air this year, and according to the numbers, it’s the smell of war. In a new report, the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (Sipri) claims that global military expenditure reached a record high of $2.44 trillion in 2023, a 6.8% increase from 2022. The report also shows that defense spending rose in all five regions of the world, marking the first time a global defense spending increase has occurred in Sipri’s 60-year history. “The unprecedented rise in military spending is a direct response to the global deterioration in peace and security,” said a senior researcher at Sipri. “States are prioritizing military strength, but they risk an action-reaction spiral in the increasingly volatile geopolitical and security landscape.” The two biggest military spenders in the world were the U.S. ($916 billion) and China ($296 billion). Their defense spending made up 37% and 12% of the entire world’s total military budget. The Kremlin’s military expenditure rose 24% in 2023 compared to 2022.

#headlines #news

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