#1466

[nikolamga]

[dailysmilingnatsume]

[wrongwarp]

[takesuhigher]

[krenenbaker]

1480 is Faust's approximate year of birth, so...

108 (# of leap years since the beginning of when the Gregorian calendar began to be used in 1582, to now) 25 (# of leap years between 1480 and 1582, when the Julian calendar was used instead)

if he celebrated his birthday only on years when he had his actual birthday, Feb. 29th, today we can wish him a

HAPPY 133rd BIRTHDAY, JOHANN!! ♡

[hexjulia]

hm this sounds intriguing,,,

"A Journey Beyond the Three Seas by Afanasy Nikitin, a merchant from Tver, during his journey to India in 1466–1472.

The first Russian literary work to depict a strictly commercial, non-religious trip. Prior texts were pilgrimage texts, which depicted travel to holy sites and were more standardized, dry and conventional. The author visited the Caucasus, Persia, India and the Crimea. However, most of the notes are dedicated to India, its political structure, trade, agriculture, customs and ceremonies. The work is full of lyrical digressions and autobiographic passages. There is a strong individual, authorial presence. Its last page is in Turkic and broken Arabic; these are, in fact, typical Muslim prayers, indicating that Nikitin might have converted to Islam while he was in India, although his lapse from Christianity bothered him as he mentions several times in the text."

[vox-anglosphere]

Elizabeth of York, wife of King Henry VII, mother of King Henry VIII

[girlactionfigure]

[asheewrites]

Sick Call for Healer 7

The provided soup got ingested with a fair bit of concentration. Raphael looked and slowly sipped every bit of liquid she got her hands on. Sometimes looking over to Asmodeus to see him eat or at least hold a bowl and a spoon. Then returned her attention to her own portion.

Only just that she could not be trusted to stick to this task – she got distracted by basically everything. When he moved to see if the TV obeyed properly (of course it did), she tried to get up and get the right remote and set things as he might want it. Most likely the human way. Telling her to get back down and waving the remote at her helped to make her settle again. When he looked up if the movie was called ‘It’s a wonderful life’ or a variation thereof – she could only have seen him using the phone - she tried to get up again. Tugging at a blanket distracted her in the direction of sitting. Clinking a spoon against the bowl was another reminder she needed. Getting out of his jacket had similar consequences (trying to hang the jacket up – no - , refocusing was difficult).

She was perfectly happy for getting warmed inside and the taste and apparently also the full feeling of her belly, but was unable to remember that she should keep doing it. So. he had to keep distractions away from her. … simply sitting, watching the angel eat and occasionally scoop up some soup for himself.

They got through a whole bowl and a half like that. The wrap of blankets that contained her wasn’t constantly rearranged in confusion, her hands had almost stopped shaking, her eyes didn’t stare unseeingly before recognizing what was going on, everything seemed to finally settle in place as best as it could go. At least in the moment.

Until a bright, but small bell rang. Seemed to come from the entrance. Her nose wrinkled and she closed her eyes, abandoned her spoon to press a hand on one ear. That already looked like a terrific headache from a second hand perspective.

Then she took a deep breath and stood u, shedding the blankets. Her arms were immediately covered in goosebumps, she closed her eyes and pressed them together, finger curled into fists, fingernails dug into her palms. And then she took a step forward – or at least tried to, unsteady as she was.

Asmodeus had enough. It was a bit painful to look at. Especially since she had finally settled down. He put his bowl on the table, curled a hand around her wrist and pulled. Slightly.

Her legs almost immediately gave in and she fell back onto the sofa. But since he pulled her towards him, she did fall back against his chest, looking very perplexed. He snaked an arm around her to keep her from moving again. She tried exactly that with so little strength, he barely noticed.

The ‘struggle’ stopped when he looked down and searched eye contact. It had been clear he wanted her to rest, hadn’t it?

She settled, but petulantly pointed out: “I… I have to… get down. They… they called…”And physically pointed in a direction that was neither down nor the entrance. Confused angel.

“Dearest angel… you do need to rest. Not today, alright?” He whispered, since her ears seemed to be sensitive to sound, if the bell was any indication.

The angel leaning against him… stared. And in a slowly, but steadily, she turned an impressive shade of red, especially considering her complexion. Even her ears were affected. She looked absolutely mortified.

Asmodeus raised his brows. Where did that come from?

… not that she answered in any way either: “Promise?”

She sucked in a breath through her nose and looked away, rubbed at her ear, curled away from his chest and sat up halfway. He didn’t keep her this time, distress was not great when sick. The unhappy ear rubbing continued: “I… I have to… ’s my duty to help and… won’t be long, really”

Well. No.

He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear: “They’ll manage without you. One day to rest, you’d prescribe it yourself, wouldn’t you? Relax and…” He grinned at the nervous looking angel, getting louder: “… there will be no more whispers?”

She opened her mouth, took a breath to say something, looking unhappy, closed it again and leaned the backrest, all defeated. Then nodded. Pouting.

“Very good!” He cheered. Pulling the blankets from her original position, spreading them over her, stuffing the edges around her to keep the warmth in and handing over the soup were the easiest part. He pet her head. Little unruly patient.

When the bloody bell attempted to ring again, he snapped his fingers, with it the rope of the bell and it finally stayed silent. Maybe he would repair it later, but a little peace and quiet was not too much to ask, was it?

Raphael, none the wiser, sipped some more soup… and pulled her legs onto the sofa, returning to her cocooned form. Except that he had not wrapped her hair in the blankets this time. A slurping cocoon with a messy, silver mane.

The angel still got distracted, but he simply stayed dutiful in returning her attention to food. It was almost impressive how much she was not able to function. … keeping her from working might almost count as a good deed.

Some very concentrated minutes later – third bowl almost done, that might actually be enough – there was a knock on the door. They actually came and knocked at her door while Raphael had a guest. Obviously did not want to answer to the ringing and was most definitely sick. That…

When the angel in question started to move and get up once again, he tapped her forehead, shook his head and said: “Continue eating, please. I’m back in a second.”

Once again, she stared… but finally the tension of movement-attempts left her, shoulders staffing and sipping another spoonful. Good. It earned a tiny pet on her head. It became a bigger pet when a second knock came. Impatient, too.

In a few strides, he did make it to the door and opened it wide, with a bit of force, he continued to hold the doorknob in his hands: “Yes?” In front of him stood Amurel, apparently distracted by the multitude of bird drawings on the ceilings and walls of the staircase. Did she… not know these already? “… what could I possibly help you with, dear?”

When she finally looked at him, she was taken aback and said: “Y- you… I… did not expect you to have…” She tried to peek past him into Raphael’s living space and Asmodeus closed the door enough to block exactly that view. He raised his brow at her and she said: “Uh. I actually… wanted to speak to Raphael, one of the archangels requested a check up, so…”

“… so you wanted to inform her that she should do that when she is better, right? Very dutiful. But I am sure a note of all requests and callers will suffice perfectly well.” He beamed at her, all gentle smiles and patience. “She will return as soon as recovery has concluded.”

Amurel tapped the clipboard in her hand and frowned: “You see how a Great King of Hell and a sick archangel-“

“I am sure you can feel how said sick archangel is actually doing better. Right?” This kind of insinuations of a break of the armistice was not even funny in theory.

She tapped the board again, wrinkling her nose: “Ah. Well. Yes. But not completely so. Can’t you just… magic it better? This has gone on for almost a week!”

Maybe Asmodeus smile looked a bit frozen in the moment he said: “… how about you magic this.” And shut the door.

One more thought locked the door and soundproofed it. Only Raphael or himself would leave the door right this moment. Quarantine. Better for everyone. Especially disrespectful angels. Wasn’t heaven big on discipline as well?

He strode back to the couch and fell back onto it, close enough to keep the angel from running off and said to the big eyes cocoon: “Just a message that can wait until you are better. Your angels are a bit… too dutiful.”

She nodded, gravely. It felt like Raphael would currently believe anything he said. Then she drank out the bowl to get to the last few drops, put it on the table and took a deep breath: “All right.” She blinked a few times. “… what… what movie do I search…?” It didn’t look like it would have any results if she did, but it was a sensible thought.

[diabhalin]

my 4 year duolingo streak means nothing i just do it to make the numbers go up

[lostdrarryfics]

Hello! Can you please help me find this fic? I read this in AO3 a few months back and stupid me forgot to bookmark it. It’s a retelling of the series and it starts on their second year. H&D got their soulmate identifying mark after their duel (I think it’s on their thighs?) and they have to keep it a secret. I think during the Yule ball they dressed up in something that complemented their soul marks. Thank you in advance!

We believe you are looking for survival is a talent by @shanastoryteller (WIP, T)

Don’t forget to bookmark, leave kudos and comments!

[unhinged-nymph]

Say less 🧎🏻‍♀️

[🗣]

[rankohoshino]

Played on: March 24th, 2024 (UTC-4:00)

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[zeitlosigkeit]

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[amiamid]

あみあん日記 No.1466

Bluesky?

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Quentin Matsys (Flemish, 1466-1530) The Virgin of the Rosary, n.d. Museo Lázaro Galdiano, Madrid