#PartTwo

[loonyunicornn]

The Man | Part 2

I walk through the forest and onto the path where I will follow until I reach the marsh to sleep. The old trees croak overhead, I look up to stare at the regal branches, some have fallen with great storms, but they still survive. The trees are all connected, they say that everyone is. Goodnight. I hum to the great willow as I step onto her island, she stares as I wander closer to her, underneath her will I will lay. In the summer she is mighty. She blows with the wind and is the oldest tree in the forest, so much that I do not remember her birth. I remember everything, I remember the beginning of the forest, many many years ago, when Man did not exist yet, and the world was free. When my mother was alive and we could leave the confines of our land, there were many like us. I remember distant voices in the back of my mind. We hum together in vibrations, we danced together and winter never came. 

That was until Man. They changed everything, chasing the animals into small portions of the shrinking world. They made fire and ash, they cut down the trees and hunted us out. I was only a child then, only a baby with my mother keeping me safe. The Man made it cold, they made the trees die, I remember the feeling in my heart as it pounded. When I sensed them for the first time. They came into the forest with a malicious heart, creeping quietly in the early hours before dawn. I was woken by my mother to move quickly into the water, they would not find us there. Quickly, you must wake up. She had said to me, we moved to the water without a sound, the deer had not been so lucky. They woke at the beginning of sunrise, unaware of the Man who surrounded the forest from all sides, they would walk to the lake to take a drink with their children and begin their day normally. But just before the sun reached its peak in the sky they would fall. At first it was one, then it was two, then three or four. I lost track after 12. They created a tool to take them from their lives, a tree branch fashioned with stones, it moved quickly in the air. It dove into the sides of the deer, killing them in an instant if they were lucky. For some it took two, but for the most majestic it took four. I felt the dying all around me, it shot through my bones and into my heart, I wished I was the one taken by the stones, the forest felt a great mourning that day. This was the first death but not the last, so thoughtfully, they left the fawns, motherless and alone, wandering the forest with sunken faces and heavy hearts, we took care of them, our kind. But soon the Man would come for us too.

[anitatad]

Why Bookworms Make Great Partners (part two)

Why Bookworms Make Great Partners (part two) Since posting the first part of this article from The Sense Hub, there has been a substantial increase in activity around here. You can read it again HERE. Sunday is normally a family day for me, where I cook a roast and chill out for the rest of the day. I did cook the roast, but somehow, I picked up a pen and didn’t put it down until late in the…

[radiosabasound]

Il giorno perfetto. Il giorno in cui le stelle si allineano per un congiuncimento astrale che determina l'avverarsi di un sogno, di un'aspirazione di un desiderio. Sembra che tutto sia al suo posto, come avevi sperato. Ma poi un'incrinatura. Lo stesso cielo che prima si presentava perfetto, adesso mostra un piccolo squarcio che però si sta allargando sempre più fino a diventare un enorme buco nero che inghiotte il congiuncimento astrale, i tuoi sogni, le tue aspirazioni, i tuoi desideri. Non può finire così. E allora cerchi qualcosa a cui aggrapparti. Li intravedi in quello stesso buco nero e contro ogni legge della fisica dell'universo, proprio da lì spuntano due puntini luminosi. E' lei la salvezza, sono i suoi occhi a dirtelo. E' lei la luce in fondo al tunnel. Più forte di qualsiasi avversità. Più resistente di qualsiai destino avverso. Il suo nome significa "Nobile di stirpe". Il suo nome è Alice. Buon ascolto da  Mauro Gentilezza su Radio Saba Sound

[saintsnsinnersbdb]

The Black Widow’s Web: The Call of the Black Window (Part 2)

Written by @Sox_Goose_Tech.

The cold night air clung to Vishous as he made his way through the streets of Caldwell, the city’s usual noise muted by the late hour. He moved through the shadows like a predator on the hunt, his body taut with tension, his mind focused on one thing: the vision. Her. The woman who had haunted his every thought since that night. Her voice, her scent, the promise in her eyes—it was all burned into him, a constant, gnawing presence that he couldn’t shake. The message had been clear: Find me.

And he had.

The club was hidden in one of the seedier parts of town, its entrance nothing more than a nondescript door set into the side of an abandoned building. But beneath that door lay The Black Widow’s Web—a place he’d only heard whispers about. A den of indulgence and danger, where power and pleasure intertwined, and secrets were traded like currency. It wasn’t the type of place just anyone could walk into. But Vishous wasn’t just anyone. He descended the narrow, dimly lit staircase, the air growing heavier with every step he took. The smell of incense, thick and cloying, filled his lungs, mixing with the scent of sweat and lust that seemed to seep from the very walls. His senses were on high alert, every nerve in his body attuned to the pulse of energy that thrummed through the place. It was almost suffocating, the heat and the noise pressing in on him as he reached the bottom of the stairs. A heavy velvet curtain hung in front of him, the last barrier between him and whatever lay on the other side. He pushed it aside, stepping into the heart of the club, and immediately, he was hit by a wall of sound and sensation.

The room was bathed in deep red and gold light, the soft glow of candles casting flickering shadows across the plush velvet walls. The air was thick with the scent of perfume, leather, and smoke. Bodies moved together in languid, sensual motions, the low hum of conversation punctuated by occasional gasps and moans. Everything about this place screamed indulgence, decadence. But beneath it, there was an edge—a sharp undercurrent of danger that hummed just below the surface. His eyes scanned the room, his body tense, ready for anything. He could feel it—the pull, the same electric charge that had drawn him into the vision. She was here. Somewhere. He moved through the crowd, his boots silent on the plush carpet, every step deliberate. His gloved hands flexed at his sides, his instincts on high alert. The deeper he went, the more the tension grew, coiling tight in his chest like a spring. The sounds around him blurred into a distant hum as his focus narrowed. She was close. He could feel her. And then he saw her.

Zaerael stood at the far end of the room, half-hidden in the shadows, watching him with those same dark, dangerous eyes. She was dressed in black, a form-fitting bodysuit of leather and lace that hugged her curves and glinted in the low light. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her pale face. She was beautiful—too beautiful. Almost otherworldly. But there was something in the way she looked at him, a quiet, simmering intensity that made his blood heat. It was the same look she’d given him in the vision, the same silent promise wrapped in danger. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a knowing smile, as if she had been waiting for him. And she had. The crowd around him seemed to disappear as he moved toward her, every sense locked on the woman in black. The air between them crackled with tension, the same electric current from the vision thrumming through him. His heart raced, his pulse pounding in his ears, but his expression remained carefully blank. He didn’t trust this. Didn’t trust her. But he couldn’t deny the pull.

"Vishous." Her voice was like silk, smooth and sensual, wrapping around him like a caress. She leaned back against the velvet wall, crossing her arms over her chest, her dark eyes gleaming in the low light. "I knew you’d come."

His body went rigid. The sound of his name on her lips sent an alarm ringing through his mind. He hadn’t told her his name. He’d never even seen her before the vision. His eyes narrowed, suspicion hardening his expression. "How do you know my name?" he growled, his voice low and full of warning.

Zaerael’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened, as though his suspicion amused her. "I know a lot about you, Vishous," she purred, pushing off the wall and stepping toward him. Her movements were slow, deliberate, the predatory gleam in her eyes never leaving his. "More than you think."

Every nerve in his body screamed for him to back off, to put distance between them. But he held his ground, his gloved hands curling into fists at his sides. "I don’t play games," he said, his voice a growl of warning. "So let’s cut the bullshit. How do you know who I am? How do you know about the vision?"

Zaerael’s dark eyes glittered with something dangerous as she stopped just inches from him, her head tilted slightly in amusement. "You don’t remember?" she whispered, her voice a low purr that sent an involuntary shiver through him. "The vision was only the beginning."

His jaw clenched. He didn’t like this. Didn’t like the way she seemed to know him, the way she moved as if she had him already figured out. There was too much he didn’t know—too much that didn’t make sense. And that was dangerous.

"You felt it too," she continued, her voice wrapping around him like smoke. "The connection. You were drawn to me, just as I was drawn to you."

His pulse quickened, his breath coming a little faster. The primal hunger he’d felt in the vision, the need to take, to possess, surged to the surface, making his muscles tense, his mind screaming at him to resist. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was telling the truth—at least part of it. The connection was there. But why? And how? "I don’t know what game you’re playing," he said, his voice dangerous and low, "but you won’t win."

Zaerael laughed softly, the sound like velvet brushing over steel, sending a shiver down his spine. "Oh, Vishous," she murmured, stepping even closer until her body was flush against his. He could feel the heat of her through his clothes, the soft press of her curves against his chest. His hand twitched, his instincts screaming at him to push her away, but his body refused to obey.

"You and I," she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, "are two sides of the same coin. You need this. You need me."

He clenched his jaw, his hand coming up to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer even as his mind screamed at him to stop. Her scent filled his nostrils—dark, dangerous, intoxicating. His body hummed with the same electric tension he’d felt in the vision, the primal hunger roaring to life inside him. But something still wasn’t right. How did she know so much? And why had she invaded his vision, his very soul, without him knowing? "You don’t know me," he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through them both.

Her smile widened, her eyes darkening with something dangerous. "Maybe not," she whispered, her breath hot against his lips. "But you will."

With that, she slipped from his grasp, disappearing into the shadows as if she had never been there. Vishous stood frozen for a moment, his body still humming with the aftershocks of her presence, his mind racing. She was gone, but the questions she’d left behind burned hotter than ever. She knew his name. She knew about the vision. And that meant she was far more dangerous than he had originally thought.

The game had only just begun.

[twes2363a]

This video is from one of my stories, Squad: The Gavinville Paranormal Team. This is part 2 of the full episode of Squad: The Gavinville Paranormal Team S1 E7: The Haunting at Camp Meldew Lane. Synopsis: There's another mission for the Gavinville Paranormal Team to do, and they have to go to a youth summer camp at Camp Meldew Lane. As the campers and camp staff explains about the hauntings at the camp, will the team put a stop to an evil family causing trouble at the camp?

[catandravendesigns]

Mr Green or Nurgling??

[wiziwiz]

Léa Seydoux on set of Dune 2

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by wiziwiz (@wiziwiz_)

[bitsandpiecesaworkinprogress]

The Green Dragon Part Two

He entered the king's throne room, and he approached him. The herald announced him in a dramatic fashion, which was his cue to stagger into the room, with careful notice to show the dent in his armour. Here, he was far away from the truth of the matter, and he hoped that this wouldn’t end his adventuring career. He was fighting all the men that he had squired with for this opportunity.

“The dragon destroyed me, O King. I was unable to reason with him and he forced me out.”

The king said nothing. He waited a little longer until he added.

“I can still do it; I was almost able to defeat him. I just need another go. Your daughter, the princess, my betrothed, is still there in great distress. And I just need to go back and finish the job. She is starving and cold. You wouldn’t let your daughter be left there. I know that I can do it.” Here the knight raised his sword and held it there and it felt like invisible strings were playing.

He stooks once more at the tower, where the dragon and girl had bested him. In quiet moments along the ride, he would think about the way that the dragon and the princess had humiliated him and made him feel like he wasn’t good enough and at the first test of honour he’d failed but he also knew that he was going back, and he knew that he was ready this time. The dents were gone from the armour, pounded smooth and the scratches buffed out so that it looked almost as clean and bright as it had been except from a slight crumple. She had been correct in a way that he felt the shame rise. It has been a rapid rise from squire to Lewis to knight in his own right. And in his heart of hearts, he knew that he probably had maybe a year to go. And that maybe he hadn’t been ready for the responsibility of rescuing the princess. But then he remembered that he had to live up to expectations that had been placed upon him.

 Then he thought of his recent mentor in Lewis. He was happy to sit at home and drink and eat after many years of adventuring. He wasn’t hungry for achieving any goals, and he decided that he wouldn’t have that. Even if he did become a prince by marrying the princess, he was going to not let it destroy him and give in to a woman’s domesticity. She would bear his children and provide a safe harbour to return to at intermittent periods of his life as he would quest onwards and continue to prove to the king how valuable he was. And that knighting him wasn’t a bad idea.

. But eventually he was game to try the door that had last time been open for him. This time however there was a slight problem with his plans. The door was locked this, and a new course of action was needed. A face popped out of the window, the same window that he’d been had been ungratefully ejected from. It was the princess, and the knight gave a quick wave.

“You came back,” she shouted to the knight. And to the window she yelled presumably to the dragon that she wanted him to go down and tell the knight to leave her alone. And soon after the winged green dragon appeared and flapped his wings out of the window and landed in a large rumbling and a gust of wind as the wings flapped. The dragon then shifted back into a man.

“You’re back again. Beatrice doesn't want you here.”

 And with that, he looked at him.

“You took her away and now you are preventing her from going home.”

The dragon looked at him and tilted his head. In a soft voice he answered,

“I sheltered her when she made the decision to leave. It has become my responsibility to help her, and the door is always open for her to go and come back whenever she wants. She wants to stay here.” The emphasis on the word here.

The knight felt something rise in him. He had felt it before, he was uncomfortable. It was a stronger feeling, and he couldn’t dampen it like he had in the past. The last time that he’d experienced it was when he had been unexpectedly knighted when he felt unworthy but then his thoughts had rationalised his worth. But to feel that a magical being had emasculated and made him revisit his views. He had never hurt him, had not even drawn a weapon against him and somehow that had made the difference. He was prepared for a short and glorious fight, and this was turning out more complicated than he expected. Without thought he wandered down the path that led away from the tower and the green dragon stood there watching him walk away.

[d20discoveries]

Part Two

Greece Part Two is out now!

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-7567 | Rex, CC-5576-39 | Gregor, Clone Cadets (Star Wars), The Miner Kids Additional Tags: TBB - Missing Scenes (TBB S2E10), fixit, Spoilers for TBB S2E10, Missing Scenes, Snippets, Could Be Canon, Different direction for the ending, Alternate Ending, the Empire being evil, Tooka adoption!, Echo's back!, shields and cloaks and whatnots, happy endings and all (but of course), Retcon, Some Suspense, some humour?, Some Fluff, some technobabble (Tech Echo), Part two (because of cliffhanger part one), Reunions, Family Reunions, some suspence, Wrecker gets to blow things up, A real short fic to wrap things up!, (I really need to learn to wrap things up faster!) Series: Part 16 of The Bad Batch S2 Add-ons Summary:

Set during and around season two of Star Wars the Bad Batch Spoilers for TBB S2 episode10

A fixit version of sorts for episode ten / part two.

Hunter, Tech and Wrecker are hurrying to stop the signal being sent from the shipwreck on an imperial frequency.
Are they too late to save the newly released slave younglings from becoming part of the Empire?

Part of the Bad Batch Add-ons series

[brunoindreamland]

"...part of me is alien and part of me is ghost..." #cartoon #desenho #painttoolsai #attempt #thejawsoflife #lyric #anime #mangá #ashamed #like4likes #drawthisinyourstyle #drawing #draw #desenhando #shame #ugly #piercetheveil #parttwo https://www.instagram.com/p/Co00pIlt8SC/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[metalroom]

THE METAL ROOM SESSIONS #healt #vol4 #parttwo #usa🇺🇸 #vinyl #vinylcommunity #vinylcollection #vinyloftheday #vinyladdiction #vinylclub #vinylrecords #vinyladdict #vinyladdict #vinyljunkie #vinylcollectionpost #vinylcommunity #vinylporn #vinyllovers #mexicanvinylcollector🇲🇽 #projectturntables #metalroom #mondo #lomavistarecordings @_health_ https://www.instagram.com/p/Co0fbB4Jjtd/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[childdevourer1]

Just finished dr season 2 and

Holy

Fuck

[libraryofcirclaria]

20 April 1331

Library of Circlaria

Third Level Society: First Version

Story Twelve: Jax Lyons

Part Two: Jax Lyons

I was going to travel to Mount Carris on April 13 but another Neurovirus lockdown in Gentry County forced me to wait until April 16. Nonetheless, the trip to Mount Carris was uneventful.

***

I arrived to the top of the Mountain, just like Ron Forester. I saw the Great Broken Tree.

And mere yards from me, lightning struck.

I don't remember what happened next but I felt myself fall through a void, much like I was traveling through time. I saw the hostile land to the North, the Combrian Confederation, and received divine insight that it was about to fall due to war and disease. Then I re-lived my life backwards, all the way back through my years of youth until the time I was a baby.

And then, nothing.

Suddenly there emerged the Great Author, face-to-face with me. The face of the Great Author was one unable to be recognized by anyone of the human race, but what was clear to me was one thing: The Great Author was neither male nor female.

"Go forth and follow your calling," the Great Author spoke to me. "You shall have no obligation to continue as solely a Pagewriter nor as a Pageturner. Your course shall follow no such conventions but only the convention of seeking the Great Truth. For the Anomaly is not its own mechanism but simply a manifest of the inter-dimensional Threat of Humanity, only to be vanquished by the union of the Pageturners and Pagewriters."

***

Two days later, on April 18, I returned to Cabotton to find that someone had been wanting to meet with me, though the contact did not self-identify to the Steward who relayed the message to me. I knew it was someone from the Pageturner Guild, wanting to keep their identity discreet in such close proximity to the Third Level Society, as the Society was dominated by allies to the Pagewriters. But I was convinced that it was Kelsey Band. After all, I went months without speaking to her up until this point.

It was Pheleston.

"Peter Crane," he said to me. "That was the man you met in Northmoor. The one who called himself 'Pete.'"

"Ah," I said, now remembering what I've read about in the past. "I understand they were friends since their time in college?"

"It seems volatile, their relationship with one another," Pheleston said. "They were friends for awhile, then mortal enemies, then friends again...in fact, if some of the facts are true, I believe they may have been romantic...as of what happened to Crane in the years since and how he ended up in Northmoor, I'm not entirely sure. The information is a bit sketchy. What I do know, however, is that both he and Kara were reported deceased...apparently from a house fire."

Knowing Pheleston, I would look at the archives later on, myself. And what he reported rang true. After I fled, they had snuck out of the Northmoor Headquarters and up to the Gymian coastline, where they made to hitch a ride on a ship owned by the Independent Fishing and Trade Company, possibly infiltrated by the Nebaya Guild in the Great North. They were waiting at a residence near there in June 1327, but the house caught fire and they died. Whether it was an accident or an arson remains to be determined.

"In any case," Pheleston continued. "I am to retire from the Curator position at the end of the year. I encourage you, and will endorse you, to run in my place. You would be the first woman to do so."

"I would," replied myself after an intentionally long pause. "If Cabotton hadn't grown on me so much."

"Suit yourself," he said with a sigh. And with that, he left.

I would have added something, a thought, that also had been growing on me since the trip to Mount Carris. I realized by that point, a mere two days later, that perhaps the being with whom I spoke on the top of Mount Carris was the spirit of the Great Author in the body of ... myself. And it makes sense. It had been growing on me since the moment I began, two years ago, casting my avatar, Mys, in the Arturian Realm.

I've never wanted to be a man. I inversely enjoyed presenting myself as female. But, at the end of the day, I am neither.

That, of course, would have been unnecessary for Pheleston to know, or so I feel.

***

I met with Williard Kent today, and resolved not to tell him all the details of the Mount Carris experience, but to tell him only the visions I had of the world around us and chalking it up solely to my imagination.

"Hmm okay," was what he said in reply. Whether it was disappointment or if he suspected me of omitting things is something I will not worry about for now.

Regardless, Cabotton is my home now. I no longer wish to return to Furthing. Obviously, I am no longer interested in resuming my position as a cog in the Pageturner Guild. There's a calling for independent decision-making here, and that's what makes me stay here despite the pandemic and ongoing conflict to the North. Certainly, I want nothing to do with the Pagewriter Guild, or even the Third Level Society and Emma Bastrin. I am completely disassociated with them. But they are not the only faction here by a long shot.

Going back to Kent, he is the one whose initiative with which I wish to integrate. With him and his friends, I see a very bright future in my quest for the Truth.

**END OF STORY TWELVE*

<- 13 October 1330 <-

[twes2363a]

This video is from one of my stories, Squad: The Gavinville Paranormal Team. This is part 2 of the full episode of Squad: The Gavinville Paranormal Team S1 E6: The Carn-Evil of Doom. Synopsis: The Gavinville Paranormal Team sets out on another mission which is to defeat the Carnival Master at the Sunnyview Carnival here at Gavinville. How will things go?

[artcallednaturalviews]

Is it too soon (With*parttwo) Piddy cops(that don’t see a 25mph limit, they innit, go deeper down) & TVM That’s Trump Vance Musk That masks the shadows under red light In highway car all black But that Mustang black chased by two cops On Chandler And a highway way faster than 25 (.you know they be going 45-47) I flipped that Smokey off and in dark likes the red lights Is it to soon to be country Chandelier swinging under the war of roses Pot shots pluck and plucking give away to pick-in’s peck with a beak Was this puffy as in made Did Daddy buy bed of roses Diddy Did he Some pigs oink (under duress and circumstances) some may squeal Is it to soon Politically correct (who has Money) They innit TV and M (The smell has proclaimed thee other had to pay off & outskirts of him, well, we all know) I’m eye lighting it Is it too soon (*, part two) All the for lovin’ thee asshole’s in life Did you or now want to vote for (e)? Then don’t get offended Is it too soon for some of Art called smell the roses Hey MM Why bullshit (it falls from same type of orifice) Doctor thee O’le damned World Is it too soon My ohh my my TV&M also (colored Nazi’s) TrumpVanceMuskRobinson Well, that smells! Thirty coin for (e) a $100 I haven’t even seen the pressings!!! Am I speaking For those who don’t watch (*’s) In a guise gesture Is it too soon? .|. Or cross the thumb Is to too soon……! We innit vote all blue Democracy (reed in wind between the lines) (With *’s don’t give parttwo) Your cheeks! Day and night They were confused Is it too soon