#Unless I ever release a physical book

[darkfictionjude]

Jude you're the goat pls never retire 😭😭

yall will be in your 40s reading my stuff I guess

[tmwcs]

H I S M A R K : H E E D A M

WARNINGS: FLUFF, SMUT (UNPROTECTED), ORAL (MALE REC.), REFERENCE TO NONCON SMUT, MENTIONS OF FORCED BREEDING, SEX SLAVERY (HISTORICAL), DUBCON, MYTHOLOGY, ANCIENT HISTORY, SYMBOLISM, MARKINGS, YANDERE LOVE, OBSESSION, POSSESSIVE, FANTASY, MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING, PARANOIA, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, FORCED LOVE, ISOLATION, AND CURSING. NOT PROOREAD (YET).

THIS TAKES PLACE SHORTLY AFTER ‘CHILD OF THE SEA’ DRABBLE. ALL PART IF THE MERMAIDS TALE SERIES ON MASTERLIST.

This Drabble had me feeling something that is surreal I swear. Probably my favorite Drabble yet.

THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL.

For days, weeks, and months, you’ve questioned your sanity. It was the same routine; waking up in an unknown territory, wondering if you’ll ever get to experience freedom again. You’ve tried to calm yourself, but a factor prohibits you from gaining rest. It has been so long since you were able to roam the streets on your own, to visit the bakery that you loved so much, and to sip coffee while viewing the window of your high-rise apartment. It wasn’t that you couldn’t do the things you enjoyed in life, you just had to enjoy it…with him.

Over a year, this man had broken you down, restricted you of using your own senses, and prohibited in exercising your own way of thinking. No. Everything was about him. He made it that way to reflect his own spirit, since for him, everything was about you. You were all he sees, eats, hear, and breathes. It caused his insanity in which formed that insatiable love for you. He wanted you to rely on him, to think of only him, and to love him the way he does you. It’s…sickening. The worst part…was that you were actually starting to succumb to your weak heart.

The other day he made a great effort to impregnate you…the image plagues your mind, no matter what you’re looking at. You’ve tried to erase it completely, yet the view of his exposed throat, his thick neck in full display as he shoves and rests his length deep inside your womb, pumping out each string of release. His hands gripped your hips, slowly sliding up to your waist while he rests in between your legs, and his head remained flung back. His poignant Adams Apple bobs up and down delicately as he restlessly murmurs…’Uh-Uh-huh.”

He tells you that you should be grateful. For the rumors of his ancestors and their harsh breeding methods with Sirens were merely just to produce sons. At least with him, he did it out of love and passion. He tells you of how the sirens would eventually weakened to the desires of an Adams touch, and eventually grew to love their captors…which he predicted would become the end result for you.

‘It’s only a matter of time’ he says.

If only what he said wouldn’t hold any truth, yet as each passing day rotates in and out, you’re slowly coming to realize that he spoke the truth. It may not be out of your own willingness to return that love, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was the end goal, despite it being a result of Stockholm Syndrome. Regardless of his abusive method in claiming you, that love he displayed…it was getting to you.

‘It’s only a matter of time, baby. You will love me…you will, Siren.’

Sirens…a creature only read in mythology books, or poems and mentioning’s by philosophers. Who could ever believe that there was more truth to their existence?

A Siren cannot feel the physical touch, sensation, or feeling of anything. Not even pain at a high scale. Should anyone cut off your limb, or carve out an eye, you wouldn’t feel it. You wouldn’t scream. You wouldn’t even shed a single tear. No matter how many injuries your body would display, you’ll never feel the blister of the injury….unless it was done by an Adam.

The only person that can make you feel things. He knew that…he knew that too well. From the moment he sensed your expression and witnessed it at the party, he knew that something was amiss. He could feel it.

The Clan of Adam is what they are called, singularly referred to as ‘Adam’s’ named after the first man. The bloodline stemmed from the sons sired by Alexander the Great, that much you both knew. At least up until the moment he found the memento remnants of his late grandfather…who met a tortuous end by his grandsons hand.

“Huh…look what I found baby.” He holds the large book in both hands. It was ancient, laced by a gold chained binding, with thin wooden slats, polished to perfection with the inscription carved in the finest font. Elegant and edged with Hellenic images, charts, and astronomical symbols, you could tell that the contents contained knowledge that was unreal…stuff people read out of a fairy tale.

He pulls you back by tenderly holding your waist, sitting you on his lap as he sets the book before you. Resting it on your thighs, he passionately roams his palms up and down your ribcage, taking deep inhales as he whiffs in your scent, burying his nose at the back of your neck. “Mmm, fuck I love you.”

Your eyes begin to form tears…again. Yet each time you calmly sobbed, they became less and less watery. The feeling of touch, while initially had disgusted you, has now become the very thing you embraced. It was something you craved…and only he could give it to you.

“Read it baby.” He sighs out as he takes in another whiff. His hands lower their grip to your hips; his thumbs pressing in right above your derrière, beside your tailbone.

You arch your back as you winced your eyes. Your mind kept telling you to be strong and resist…but your heart told you the opposite. He pulls you in, smoothing your rear to grind and settle right on his bulge. “You’re sooooooo perfect…perfect for me.” He drags a deep tone as he flings his head back, lightly bucking his hips upwards. The sensation formed a familiar knot, a tightness that expanded until it snaps, releasing the flow of intense orgasm and pleasure. “P-please…please don’t—“

You gently spoke your words, moaning them out as you plead. You wanted it and didn’t want it. He reached up and around, turning your head to the side to face him, eloping you in a beautifully tender kiss. He grinds, and you move. He bucks, and you press in. Your bodies became a perfectly tuned rhythm of pleasure…and love.

“H-Heeseung…” you moan in between the small pecks. He lightly groans into your mouth, admitting a long and harsh lick up from your bottom lip to the top. “Aw fuck…yeah baby? You like that?” He doesn’t give you room to answer before re-sealing your mouth into a rather messier kiss. The twisting and twirling of tongue and the stroking of canines has completely melted you, and he could feel it on his crotch.

His hands migrate up and around, unionizing on your tummy. They slowly mesh downward and apply pressure as they rub on the flat canvas above your clit. It didn’t take long for him to find his way under your dress, his hands were so gifted in knowing the in and outs of feminine-styled seams. He hooks your panties and shove them to the side, and God..the way he could move his hands alone was enough to get you heated and moist. So wet.

Not once did he release your mouth. The flaring of your nostrils indicates the struggle for breath, yet the latching proved that it was all worth the struggle. Your lips quiver as your thighs shake; his fingers gently rubbing small circles right at the tip, surfacing a toil of piercing desire that raged within you like the fires of Hell. You moan some more in his mouth, hating how you were loving the way he explored inside you. That damn tongue of his…he was so experienced, being a former playboy, but now a committed husband who only had eyes, a heart, and soul, just for you.

“Oh Heeseung…mmmm! Oh please-“

“Fuck yeah baby. Never felt someone as good as you.”

His heart pelted against his chest, you could feel it underneath in between your shoulder blades as yours felt as if it would explode from within. He played around with your womanhood until he firmly gripped your waist, thumbs pressing against your back as his fingers dig into your torso. He lifts you just a tad, before slamming you down against his clothed groin. He continues to buck up while bouncing you in a momentum that was out of this world. You gasped out a series of yelps, all in sync with his motions. “Pl-please!!! Please..!”

“Please what? WHAT?” He whispers as he buries his nose and lips into your ear. “Fucking tell me what you want. Let me hear it.”

You reach up and gently palm the back of his neck, struggling to move smoothly as the quaking aches of pleasure and desire took over your body. “Ugh…please…please give it to me…”

You can’t believe you just said that…

He smirks. “Oh yeah baby…don’t worry, I’m going to.” He reaches beneath you to unzip his trousers when a sudden knock causes you both to pause.

His growl told you of anger and frustration as he bites down and grits a groan. His hands emerge up and grip your waist, slightly shifting you forward.

You whine out, begging for him to keep going. You cup his chin as you continued to melt against his chest, grabbing onto his free hand and resting it on your pelvis. “Please…please…Heeseung.”

What he wouldn’t give to satisfy you right now. Times like this, he truly sympathizes for you, and wanted nothing more than to give you everything you asked for. He gently takes your hand in his, causing you ti release his chin as he places a kiss on your forehead. “Shhh…I know baby. I know.”

He would have dismissed the person outside the door, instead, he mentally kicks himself in the ass. He was the one who summoned the curator to help translate the book after all.

“Hello, Mr. Lee. My name is Johnathan, I am the curator from the national library, we spoke on the phone. You stated you needed some assistance in translating some family artifacts?”

The young man was polite and well mannered, not at all losing composure, even after seeing you sitting on your husband’s lap, legs widespread. At least Heeseung reinstated the hem of your dress, layering it over the exposed parts. Maybe Johnathan was not at all familiar with the image of sexual desire, but it would otherwise seem quite obvious.

“I am sorry I’m late.” He states as he sets his briefcase on his lap, flipping the gold latches up.

“Not as sorry as I am right now…” Heeseung mutters against your ear, wincing as you admitted small and subtle waving motions at the hip, grinding against his groin. The pulse of desire hasn’t worn off inside you.

“What was that Sir?” Johnathan peeks up with a look of curiosity.

“N-nothing. What can you tell us about this?” Heeseung firmly wraps an arm around your waist as he leans forward, taking the book from your hand and passing it over. You whined as your body shifts forward from the leaned in motion. “Don’t worry…i’m never going to let you fall baby.” He whispers into your ear after taking notice of your hands gripping his thigh, halting the sliding of your rear on his lap. Meanwhile the curator remained completely oblivious as he closely admires the book. “Ah, the literature contains the ancient tongue that the Greeks used early on. It is most notably communicated by philosophers. Perhaps a well known philosopher drafted this.”

Johnathan examines each lettering and symbol, placing a magnifying device to study the engravings.

“Clan of Adam…interesting, I haven’t heard of them. Has your grandfather ever mentioned this clan to you before?” He speaks without lifting his head, keeping his eyes glued to the wooden frame.

“Maybe a couple times in reference to this heirloom.” Heeseung calmly fibs. If there was one thing you both agreed on, it was to keep your ancestries, and the knowledge of, a secret. Excluding the current lesson that was now being taught of course.

“Interesting. It says here that the clan were all male descendants of the first sons…sons of—“

“Alexander.” Heeseung calmly finishes as he pinches his grip, tightening his hold on your waist the moment he spoke out the name.

“Yes that’s correct. Alexander the Great, king of Macedonia.”

The curator continues to look over the slats, rotating the book as he studied the diagram of constellations and Greek symbols. “It says that the first sons of Alexander were hidden away in a monastery, many miles away from their kingdom. They were known as the first of the clan…says here they displayed inhuman abilities.”

Johnathan chuckles. “I see, this seems to be a book that contains speculation of fiction and fantasy. It talks about them battling mermaids—ah, sirens, as they are commonly referred in this book.”

Heeseung’s member twitches at the historical mentioning of your ancestors. You felt the snake-like feature of his size slithering and flickering under your thigh, causing you to gasp.

“This particular page goes into detail about the clans genealogy traits…saying that it derived from their grandfather.”

“Grandfather?” Heeseung raises a brow as he keeps his eye on the curator, yet shifts his mouth to place a kiss against your cheek upon hearing a small whine escape your lips.

“Yes sir…it says here that the late King of Macedonia and his wife, Olympias, was bedded by Zeus. This was recorded in private to a monk residing in the kingdom, and journaled after the king passed. Alexander took over the throne and was exposed to the secret of his origin, by his mother.”

The curator chuckles in disbelief. “Well that would explain why the clan could take down mermaids.” He laughs as he jests, little does he know that everything he had just relayed was whole-heartedly true.

Your eyes widen as he unveiled the truth behind the clans whereabouts. Descendants of Zeus? No wonder they held such tremendous power and combative abilities. They were commonly known as Spartans of the Sea.

Heeseung, being a former SWAT captain, eluded those traits. You’ve witnessed his training sessions he maintained simply for fun. The way he moved, the way he maneuvered in water, and his stamina…it was Godly.

Zeus…Zeus was the true father of Alexander…

“And the sirens were all daughters of —“

“Poseidon…” you calmly interject. Heeseung faintly smirks as he admires your side profile. “Yes ma’am, that’s correct. Have you both read this book?” The curator asks earnestly, subtly surprised by your perfect translation and knowledge of what was inscribed in the book.

“We looked it over prior to your arrival.” Heeseung states.

“Wow…so you both can read Ancient Greek?”

You both stayed silent as Johnathan’s innocent smile slowly fades. A moment of awkwardness fills the room. “Well…anyhow…there was a war between humanity and the sirens, and the godly descendants produced by Zeus engaged, becoming a formidable opponent to the sirens. In fact, it says here that the clan nearly wiped out the entire ocean of them, causing them to go nearly extinct.”

Heeseung taps against your thigh, vaguely whispering for you to stand just for a moment as he thanks the curator for his time.

“I’m sorry to tell you this book hardly exposes factual knowledge regarding your family, however, you’ll be pleased to know that it is a genuine artifact that is priceless. Should you ever care to get an appraisal, please do not hesitate to call us.”

“Without hesitation. Thanks.” Heeseung places the book to the side as he sees the young man out.

You sat by the window.

Descendants of Zeus…and Poseidon…you, and Heeseung.

He cups your cheek, gently forcing you to face him. “That pretty head of yours thinking about the history lesson we just got?” He smirks as he kneels down before you, reaching up as he strokes your hair. “All that talk about Gods and our lineage got me thinking baby…”

You gave an inquiring expression. “About what?” You calmly issue as he pulls you in for a kiss, never divulging an answer. “You’ll see.”

…………….

“Welcome to Brewery’s Coffee, what can I get for you?”

“Tall chocolate cream latte, and a venti Americano.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the name for the order?”

“Heeseung.”

The barista labels the cups. Handing the receipt, she admires the devastatingly handsome stranger as he walks to a table. Something catches her eye as she ogles his neckline. A small mark, looked to be of a tattoo, printed nicely and centered on the back of his neck. It was symbolic in nature, though she had absolutely no idea of what it entailed. “Do you see that?” She whispers to a fellow co-worker. They both admire the mark, when the latter recognized the main structure of the symbol.

“Oh! That’s the symbol for Pisces. The symbol represents commitment, and togetherness for eternity. I’m a Pisces myself, but I don’t know what that small symbol to the right of it is supposed to be.”

Heeseung takes a seat across from you, admiring how you sat patiently while he ordered the drinks. Not like you didn’t really have a choice, although now it seems he did manage to tame the shrew. You found yourself accepting the concept of belonging to him, especially after reading the history of his lineage.

Taking your hand in his, he rubs the back of your palm with his thumb. “You didn’t feel a thing, did you?”

You shook your head. “Me neither.”

Of course he wouldn’t. He’s too damn strong, some needle punctures would hardly faze him. You reach up and delicately smooth the tips over the back of your neck, yet couldn’t even feel your own phalanges as you attempted to search for it. He chuckles before reaching across the table. “Here.”

He takes your fingers and places it on a certain spot behind your neck. “Right there baby.”

You still couldn’t feel anything, other than the brush of his knuckles as he guides you to the matching mark. The sign of Pisces, with the respective symbols of the Gods that fathered both your ancestries. His, with Zeus, and yours with Poseidon.

Combined and side by side, it would form the Union of love…the love that he inherited for you…the love that you were forced to adapt to.

It was entirely his idea, of course. You recalled how he vividly told you of the theory in Zeus transforming Aphrodite and Eros into fish, paired together so that they may escape from the clutches of Typhon, the monstrous being. You laid on your stomach as the artist took his time to delicately outline the unique features of the custom symbolic nature of love and commitment.

After coffee, he brings you back home where he had every sense of focus to finish what was started earlier.

“Come here.” He gently calls to you as he flips two fingers up and flickers them, signaling for you to respond to his calling. His voice was tamed and gentle. So very calm and sensual.

You kneel before him as he took his seat, holding onto your hand. You lean forward in between his manspreading legs, guided by the subtle grip of your chin. He lures you directly to his bulge. “My woman…my life…my everything.”

You knew what he wanted, and you would never admit it aloud, but you wanted it too. The pains of yearning never left, it remained lodged deep inside your womb even after the curator left.

You unzip his trousers. It didn’t take long for him to whip out his cock, waving it in front of your face as if he was teasing you with it. Like quenching thirst, you caught the very tip of it with your parted lips, immediately swallowing as many inches as possible—and there were many. The man was gifted, such was expected as the descendant of a mighty God.

He groans out, holding the base of his shaft for you, while encouraging you to keep going. He collects your strands, and grips it in unison. Holding up your poneytail, there, in full view was the beautiful tattoo…his other half. Resting in the same spot as his, it nearly glows. He watches and maintains sight of it as you continue to bob for his girth.

“Thatta girl…keep going darling…get it while you can, I’m about to conquer you.”

You swipe your head up and down, motioning it with a sensual passion that could only be found in a love like this. One that was filled with so many contradictions, yet hold so much history. And with that history, came progression and transcendence. It was both frustrating and peaceful. Forceful, and yet consensual. It was…it was…

“Fuck! Get over here.”

“H-Heeseung!” You gasped outright as he used his god-like strength and lifts you up. He stands tall and straight, leaving you suspended in air against his chest as he grips your thighs, forcing you to straddle his groin. You hug his neck, embracing it against your breasts as you remain higher up while he cradles your rear, stabilizing his hold. Slowly…slowly, the moment you breached for all day, he finally inserts his stiffed muscle in between your slit. “Oh my God..!” You breathe out as he breaks you, inch by inch. The feeling was so different from the other day. This was different. The painful yearning that pounded your womb from within, sending tingles up your spine, and released a rushing flow of blood through your veins. All you could think about was being touched, being fucked, and being kissed over and over again, and he was the only one who could give it. The key to your release.

“Ah! P-please! Oh god please don’t stop!”

The very second he sat you against the hilt of his pelvic floor, he began thrusting at a phenomenal pace. God, was he perfect. He was so good, you just couldn’t contain yourself as it slipped…

“B-babe! Baby please!”

He pauses for just a second as he smirks against your neck. Did he just hear you call him ‘baby’?

He continues to grin as he slowly pumps up into you.

Realizing just what you had done, you found it useless to make excuses or to continue to fight it. Finally, after all that he’s done to trap and torment you mentally, he finally had you…all of you. You wave the white flag and surrendered. If it wasn’t in the endearing pet name that you sputtered out, it was in the tightening of your embrace as you pulled him close, thighs shaking and your derrière jiggling from the quivering jolts of pleasure…so good, it hurt like Hell.

“Say it again.” He snarls against your skin as he licks the underside of your chin. You shook your head, wincing your eyes as you refused initially, but he had his ways to make you give in.

One, two, three…no, four. Five! God…maybe it was twenty times, or more, he held you firmly and smacks his cock inside. It was brutally pleasing as he thrusts upwards, splattering the juices of his labor—and yours, everywhere. The offensive sound of his cock squeezing, squelching, and sliding in and out as his balls smack against your skin while he went in fast and hard, causing you to scream. Your mind blows away as you absorb his rhythm. “Ah! Fuck! Baby!”

There, he got what he wanted, and did he ever love it. He could hear you call him that, over and over again. And he did.

The undercarriage of your buttocks were painted with white, thick splatters of creamy and sticky fluids. The constant and solid tempo of his thrusts acted as a beater, stirring the semi-clear residue and turning it into a thicker consistency. A product of the love you both shared.

You scream out his name, gasping for air as the soft spot inside you releases, all thanks to the constant punching of his tip, and the pounding of his thick and lengthy cock. You dig your nails into his shoulders, the overstimulation makes you beg for him to tone it down but he doesn’t.

“TAKE IT!!!” He yells out against your skin as he holds and squeezes your cheeks together, creating a bubbling image of skin and muscle as your derrière becomes abused by the harsh grip.

Shooting everything he’s got inside, he holds you steady, burying deep. Pelvis to pelvis, hilt to hilt, you feel the pressure of his grip holding you down against his groin. A few minutes of his cock pulsating, pumping, and pushing, he finally loosens his grip. You slide down, legs still grasping his waist as he embraces your waistline, tumbling back. Bringing you down with him, he lays next to you on the silky bedding.

You both lay, admiring each others glistening skin. The beads of sweat dripping down your foreheads, the heat exhausting from your breaths, and the panting and heaving of your chests.

He pushes the wet strands away from your brow, leaning in and kissing you so passionately, he would have done his deity ancestor proud.

“…I love you.” You mutter out, nearly shamelessly and defeatedly.

He smirks as he gulps down a subtle swallow, already knowing, just waiting for you to say it. “I know.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact, instead, you look away as he caresses your cheek, not minding the shyness you were displaying. “I could never be anything in life without you…daughter of the seven seas…you got me all to yourself. I live only for you.”

And with that, concluded this night, but birthed many more. This was only the beginning, what new life exists for you both? Now that you have each other…

And so the war between the Adams and Sirens came to an end, resulting in generations that mirrored the forbidden love between the two descendants. Mixing the bloodlines of Poseidon and Zeus, the clan formatted the ultimate beings, part God and part mortal. Despite the many rumors of the hostility the two parties initially held against each other, let it be known that no matter the history…no matter the bloodshed…by the prime example of sea maidens and sons of Alexander the Great, love conquers all.

@hoonieshoney and @sweeheehees 😏 they not cry or explode. Because I certainly almost did both when imagining heedam….BRO JUST TOPPED THE LIST.

[youryurigoddess]

Aziraphale’s secret investigation and overlooked Clues

Remember this frame from Good Omens S02E06? Apparently Aziraphale had been using the empty carton box brought by Jim to store things in. It became a new home to at least two out of three “Lost Quartos” — the supposedly lost Shakespeare plays briefly but hilariously mentioned in the Good Omens book — as well as a very mysterious legal document.

Thought probably half of the Good Omens analysts here, including the ever so wonderful @fuckyeahgoodomens, who managed to find some information about the deceased John Gibson from New Cumnock (1855 - 1905).

Unfortunately the most interesting thing about this early 20th century provincial postmaster was his youngest child James (1894 - 1973), a quite famous stage (West End!) and film actor immortalized on screen in The Master of Ballantrae (1962), Witch Wood (1964) and Kidnapped (1963).

After that particular discovery the fandom-wide search seemingly led nowhere and the topic died a premature death.

And I almost figured it out seven months ago.

“But Yuri, you’re so clever. How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?”, you probably want to shout across a busy London street at this point. Well, let me tell you. Much like Aziraphale, I'm blindingly intelligent for about thirty seconds a day. I do not get to choose which seconds and they are not consecutive.

Only tonight the stars have aligned in an ineffable way.

For those of you who don’t follow this account, some time ago I’ve realized that John Gibson isn’t the only testator whose estate was being investigated by Aziraphale right before The Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association monthly meeting.

If you watch S2 finale closely enough, you should notice that Crowley not only stress cleans Aziraphale’s bookshop — he also goes through the books and papers on his desk between the last three angels leaving the bookshop and Maggie and Nina’s intervention. A seemingly permanent arrangement of the props post-shooting, visible in detail both on Radio Times tour and SFX magazine photo shoot, sheds even more light on this detail.

The close-ups published after S2 release are legible enough to refer us to a much more prominent historical figure, Josiah Wedgwood (1730 – 1795) — an English potter, entrepreneur and abolitionist. Founding the Wedgwood company in 1759, he developed improved pottery bodies by systematic experimentation, and was the leader in the industrialisation of the manufacture of European pottery.

Long story short, I transcribed the handwritten pages abandoned on Aziraphale’s desk, found out the source and the full text of what could be identified as Wedgwood’s last will and testament, took a walk to visit his Soho workshop, and proceeded to write a lengthy meta analysis about it.

I was today’s years old when I realized that there’s something else connecting those two dead British men.

The Scottish Post Office Directory of 1903 recorded John Gibson from New Cumnock as a “stationer and china dealer” (above) operating from the shop located in the town’s post office building.

Indeed, a close look at his post office shop window in the Henderson Building (below, bottom left) reveals an artful display of fine china and pottery next to postcards printed by Gibson.

There are multiple ways to connect this surprising link with possible S3 plot points, obviously, but it’s getting late, so let’s just name the two most important ones.

You’ve probably heard of the Holy Grail, maybe from Monty Python or Good Omens S01E03 1941 flashback. Depending on the version of the story, if can be a cup, a chalice, a bowl, or a saucer — but almost always a dish or a vessel connected personally, physically and metaphysically to Jesus (unless you’re partial to Wolfram von Eschenbach’s idea that the Grail was a stone, the sanctuary of the neutral angels who took neither side during Lucifer's rebellion).

A slightly more obscure dish related to the Son of God appears in the sixteenth chapter of the Book of Revelation as a vital part of His Second Coming. The Seven Bowls (or cups, or vials) of God’s Wrath are supposed to be poured out on the wicked and the followers of the Antichrist by seven angels:

Then I heard a loud voice from the temple telling the seven angels, “Go and pour out on the earth the seven bowls of the wrath of God.” So the first angel went and poured out his bowl on the earth, and harmful and painful sores came upon the people who bore the mark of the beast and worshiped its image.

The second angel poured out his bowl into the sea, and it became like the blood of a corpse, and every living thing died that was in the sea.

The third angel poured out his bowl into the rivers and the springs of water, and they became blood. And I heard the angel in charge of the waters say, “Just are you, O Holy One, who is and who was, for you brought these judgments. For they have shed the blood of saints and prophets, and you have given them blood to drink. It is what they deserve!” And I heard the altar saying, “Yes, Lord God the Almighty, true and just are your judgments!”

The fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and it was allowed to scorch people with fire. They were scorched by the fierce heat, and they cursed the name of God who had power over these plagues. They did not repent and give him glory.

The fifth angel poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and its kingdom was plunged into darkness. People gnawed their tongues in anguish and cursed the God of heaven for their pain and sores. They did not repent of their deeds.

The sixth angel poured out his bowl on the great river Euphrates, and its water was dried up, to prepare the way for the kings from the east. And I saw, coming out of the mouth of the dragon and out of the mouth of the beast and out of the mouth of the false prophet, three unclean spirits like frogs. For they are demonic spirits, performing signs, who go abroad to the kings of the whole world, to assemble them for battle on the great day of God the Almighty.  (“Behold, I am coming like a thief! Blessed is the one who stays awake, keeping his garments on, that he may not go about naked and be seen exposed!”) And they assembled them at the place that in Hebrew is called Armageddon.

The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and a loud voice came out of the temple, from the throne, saying, “It is done!” And there were flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder, and a great earthquake such as there had never been since man was on the earth, so great was that earthquake. The great city was split into three parts, and the cities of the nations fell, and God remembered Babylon the great, to make her drain the cup of the wine of the fury of his wrath. And every island fled away, and no mountains were to be found. And great hailstones, about one hundred pounds each, fell from heaven on people; and they cursed God for the plague of the hail, because the plague was so severe.

[wriothesleybear]

Service Top truther anon here, i have more thoughts to share ahhh!

I can see wrio being very much into quiet comfort when he's with a partner. like he doesn't have to talk much if the silence is spent together- imagine him reading his newspaper, your fingers combing through his hair absent-mindedly, him leaning into the touch ever so slightly while you read a book or sketch on a note pad. When you stop he'll turn his head to look at you until you continue, eyelids getting heavier until he fully drifts off.

when you're in bed together he likes to circle his thumb over your hip while he has his chest to your back and his face in the crook of your neck. just enjoying the shared warmth and contact.

ugh and if things get more spicy it's never in a hurry. he'll test the waters by trailing touches over your thighs and chest, and when you give him the sign to continue it's going to be slow and deep unless you want it otherwise. He'll nip at your neck and shoulders, never biting to hurt but to feel you in any way he can, while keeping his palm flat against your lower stomach where he's moving inside you, eventually trailing further down to cirlce your clit in the same unhurried way. When you buck into his hand and back onto his cock, he won't break pace. He loves when you openly chase your pleasure. Whine for him to give you more and he'll lie you on your front while he grinds into you from behind, controlled drags of his hips that send you over the moon.

"Touch yourself for me, will you?" He'll encourage you.

It's your release that makes him follow suit, the tightening of you around him so good he can't help but press deeper and give you every drop of himself he can offer. He'll move the both of you to lie on your sides in the comedown, never pulling out to keep his cum inside you for as long as possible. His hand wanders back to your lower stomach, the softness under his palm such a pleasing contrast to his calloused fingers. While he slowly falls asleep he wishes he could have you like this at any moment.

omgggg anon🥹🥰🤭 yeah i dont think he's really one for words so he shows his affection through actions the most. for example, acts of service such as getting you your favorite snacks, noticing when youre upset and letting you vent, buying you something he knows you would like, etc. or through physical touch such as holding your hand, kissing your knuckles, putting his arm around you, nuzzling and hugging you.

i literally just wanna lay his head on my lap and comb my fingers through his fluffy hair until he falls asleep. most of the time when he's with you, he spends it nuzzling his face into your neck and just inhaling your lovely scent and sometimes leaving light kisses, usually tickling you and making you giggle which makes him happy and smile in your neck. only you are able to help him relax and show his soft side like this.

omg yes ! COCKWARMING. wrio lovesss cockwarming. You do it often after making love (due to his breeding kink), while he's at his desk doing paperwork (it helps him get through the endless papers), and while you sleep because he wants to be close to you and enjoy your warmth. it doesnt even have to be in a sexual way in order to get release, he enjoys the intimacy.

wrio + slow, gentle sex ahhh ! it makes you wanna cry sometimes due to how soft and gentle he is to you during your sessions. You might've done it a few times before which makes him worried because he thinks he hurt you. but once you tell him the reason why you're crying happy tears, he relaxes and kisses your tears away as he continues his slow pace, grinding against you while you hold each other close (this makes me wanna cry🥹). but omg the feeling of his rough, calloused hand rubbing your clit feels so much better than your own hand so you usually prefer that and beg ask him to do it. just his hands touching you any place feels amazing. gentle, soft touches from such rough hands mhm🤤

this really cheered me up anon because i've had a stressful week so thank you for sharing more. i hope you have a wonderful weekend🥰❤️

[opreaadriann]

Weekly Update - Apr 27, 2024

Hello, Nigel Profite voters! Profitists? I’m here after a pretty big week of writing. Unfortunately, this week has been a crazy combination of good and bad news for me, luckily allowing me to concentrate a lot on High School Revenge.

Let’s start off with the important bit. I’ve written 12k words this week. Yes, you’ve heard that right. I’ve completely finished the homecoming party event, which was huge, bizarre, and full of choices. Though my writing pace has been amazing, it only happened because some bad stuff happened irl. I just lost my job, so I had a lot of time between applying for jobs and staring at the ceiling to work on this. What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t expect this speed under normal circumstances, since I think the 4k a week from before was more realistic. So, please don’t pray for my continued unemployment just so I could finish the book faster haha.

An interesting thing I’ve worked on this week is setting up special separate screens in the Stats menu for all of the targets, where I give a brief physical description and remind you of their role in the Tragedy. I think this will help if you ever wonder what someone like Vivian or Connor did back then. Since I’ve also made Burt spy on them all, you’ll also gain access to some special info, where you see some of their presumed traits, likes, dislikes, and related skills (i.e music or baseball). I will also add here in the future the clues you get that will help in your upcoming revenge.

As I’ve already said, I’ve also finished the homecoming party event that happens in the first week of school. It’s around 20k words, which is just slightly longer than the whole 2nd chapter. I think I’ve made it a fun experience with all of our weird targets and I hope you will have fun with it once it’s released!

In terms of what I’ve got left for the chapter, I’ve only got to write random events now, some initial relationship and hobby events, and the actual homecoming event. If things go well, in around 1 month everything should be done. Unless I start writing really long separate paths for each RO for homecoming. If I do that, it might take like 1 month and a half or something.

[mimisempai]

Craving for your touch

Summary

When you haven't been touched with tenderness for as long as Mobius has, the slightest touch is overwhelming, but he certainly didn't expect to react so strongly to a simple shoulder massage from Loki.

Notes

I can't stop thinking about touch-starved Mobius ever since he said goodbye to B15 and the two of them looked like they wanted to hug each other, but clearly didn't know how.

On Ao3

Rating G - 1558 words

Mobius dropped onto the sofa next to Loki, who was reading. 

Ever since he'd moved here and started renovating his house, he'd noticed that physical work had this ability to release stress and strong emotions. So after his discussion with Loki and all that it had brought out in him, he had spent the morning completing the renovation of the banister of the staircase leading up to his house.

Loki, fully aware of this, put down his book and asked him thoughtfully, "Are you all right, now?"

Mobius nodded and replied with a smile, "Yes, much better.

Suddenly his smile turned into a grimace he couldn't suppress.

His days as a trained hunter were long gone, so even after a relaxing shower he could still feel the effects of manual labor on his muscles.

He lifted his hand and began to massage his shoulder to ease the aching pain.

Loki replied in a slightly ironic tone, "Not so good after all.

Mobius shook his head and chuckled slightly before replying, "It's nothing, just a few muscles that aren't used to working hard anymore."

Loki turned all the way to Mobius and said, "Turn around."

Mobius looked at him in confusion.

Loki waved his hand and repeated, "Come on, for once do what I say without question and turn around."

Mobius, his eyebrows furrowed, turned to show Loki his back.

The god placed his hands gently on Mobius' shoulders and began to make small circles with his thumbs over the strained muscles.

Mobius, unable to hold back a small moan of relief, protested, "Loki, you don't have to do this.

Leaning forward, Loki planted a kiss on Mobius' temple and said softly, "I don't have to, but I want to. So indulge me, okay?"

Mobius sighed, "'kay..."

Loki continued, but after a few moments he stopped and said quietly, "You know, it would be more effective if I didn't do it through your clothes. It will be better if you take off your shirt."

Feeling Mobius' shoulders tense slightly under his hands and getting no response from him, he lost his smile and asked, a little worried, "Unless you don't want to, which I could understand, since it's still very new, what-"

Mobius interrupted, shaking his head, "It's not that... well, it is, and it's also just that I haven't been this intimate with anyone since... since I can't remember when."

Loki hummed, then asked softly, "Is this something you want?"

Mobius nodded slowly and replied in a steady voice, "If it is with you, yes."

Loki's smile returned to his lips and he said, "How about we go to your room instead, it'll be much more comfortable."

He waited for Mobius to nod, then stood up and held out his hand to help him to his feet, pushing him towards the hallway that led to the bedroom. 

Once in the room, he let him sit up on the bed, but when Mobius immediately started to unbutton his shirt, Loki knelt in front of him, placed his hands on his and asked quietly, "May I?"

Mobius nodded and placed his hands on either side of him on the edge of the bed as Loki's replaced them and began to unbutton the shirt. Once the shirt was fully undone, the god gently placed his hands on Mobius' bare shoulders underneath the shirt, making sure the man was still comfortable, then slid the shirt down his shoulders and then his arms before helping him out of it.

He planted a light kiss on Mobius' forehead and said gently, "Lie on your stomach so I can take better care of your shoulders, okay?"

Mobius nodded and complied, soon lying on his stomach with his head resting on his crossed arms.

Loki then settled astride Mobius' lower back and placed his hands gently on his tense shoulders.

Mobius couldn't contain a shiver at this first real contact on his bare skin and Loki, noticing, removed his hands. Mobius responded with a slight whimper and immediately bit his lips in embarrassment, confused by this uncontrolled reaction.

Fortunately for him, Loki was incredibly perceptive and told him gently, "I understand."

He placed his hands on Mobius' shoulders and began to gently massage him, watching for every reaction on his face. He worked out every knot and tension until he felt under his hands that Mobius was completely relaxed and free of pain. When he was done, he gently removed his hands and Mobius whimpered again at the loss of contact and stifled it again by biting his lips.

Loki repeated softly, "I understand Mobius, don't hide from me, please."

As Loki began to slide off his back, Mobius reached out and grabbed his wrist before saying in a barely audible voice, "Stay. 

The god looked a little surprised but let himself slide down Mobius' body and lay on his side next to him, resting his head on one hand. Then, brushing Mobius' hair back with his other hand as he looked at him, he said softly, "I'm staying here."

Mobius shook his head and said in a sheepish voice, "I'm sorry, Loki. I don't mean to be so demanding, I really don't know why I'm reacting like this."

Loki replied tenderly, "I do, Mobius. I understand what it's like to be alone for so long, not to touch anyone and not to be touched by anyone. Believe me, Mobius, I know exactly what it's like."

His hand slipped from Mobius' hair to his cheek and Mobius instinctively leaned into it. Aware of the gentle warmth of Loki's hand on his cheek, his throat tightened and he tried to stop the emotion of Loki's hand and words, but nothing could stop it. 

Years without the slightest tender contact had heightened the sensations with every touch and now it was as if Mobius had opened a dam and was unable to hold back the flood.

Loki said nothing, just wrapped his arms around Mobius' waist and pulled him against him. Mobius  felt every place where Loki's skin touched his own and was only conscious of Loki's hands hypnotically caressing his back and his soothing whispers against his hair. Now that he had let go, lulled by this softness and the security of the embrace, he didn't even feel sleep invade him.

When he awoke much later, it was dark and the place beside him was cold. He had no idea how long he'd slept. 

He blushed slightly as he thought about what had happened and felt bad for looking so weak in front of Loki. All over again. Then, when he heard activity coming from the kitchen, he decided to get up and when he reached the living room, he found himself face to face with Loki, who was carrying a tray with two steaming cups. 

The god said to him happily, "You're awake!" and immediately added, a slight concern in his eyes, "How are you?"

"Fine, better than fine," Mobius replied before continuing, "What's that?" pointing to the two cups.

"Tea," Loki replied, motioning for him to follow, "Come on, let's sit down."

As they sat side by side on the sofa, Loki handed him a cup. Mobius took it and thanked him gently.

They drank in silence, Mobius enjoying the warmth of the drink, which warmed him as much as the touch of Loki's thigh and shoulder against him. After they put their cups back on the coffee table, Mobius turned to Loki and said quietly, "Thank you, and I don't mean for the massage or the tea. I'm sorry for being so... I don't know, weak probably, I don't want you to think that..."

Loki put a finger over Mobius' mouth and interrupted, "Don't apologize for anything, I've told you I understand how you feel and at no time have I ever considered you weak.  In fact, I'm immensely grateful to you for making yourself so vulnerable in front of me. "

He leaned closer and slid his hand from Mobius' lips to his cheek before asking softly, "Mobius, may I kiss you?"

Mobius nodded slowly and Loki closed the distance between them. At first, it was just a brush of lips, but Mobius returned the kiss and they continued to kiss like this for long minutes without feeling to go any further.

They just enjoyed it, their lips and bodies touching, getting to know each other, becoming more and more comfortable with each other.

A little later, they were snuggled together, Mobius resting against Loki, his head on Loki's shoulder, gently caressing Loki's chest while Loki's fingers stroked his hair. 

Loki, feeling Mobius smile against him, asked softly, "What are you smiling at?"

Mobius chuckled softly and said, "It felt like our first kiss. I know it's probably ridiculous, but..."

Mobius felt Loki kiss his hair, then the god murmured, "It's not ridiculous, after so long of everything being rushed, we finally have time to do things and be aware of them. So it's like everything is new."

Loki leaned in again and captured Mobius' lips in another kiss.

They didn't know where this relationship would take them. 

It was much too early to tell. 

But what they did know was that they had so much to explore together, to learn about each other, and all the time in the universe to do it.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Timeless Growing love : here (After season 2)

Lokius masterlist : here

[pfhwrittes]

I gotta ask. I’ve never heard of this series so info dump away if you so choose!

aw yis okay here we go. so, his dark materials is a trilogy of fantasy novels comprising of northern lights, the subtle knife and the amber spyglass (you may know northern lights under a different name - the golden compass). there was a terrible film released as the golden compass in 2007 and then in 2019 the bbc released the tv series. in my opinion this is the better adaptation (even if i have a stupid dislike of the guy who plays lord asriel).

so the first book, northern lights/the golden compass, is set in an alternate universe wherein your soul physically manifests outside of your body in the shape of an animal - known as a daemon. up until puberty, children's daemons can shape change to whatever their little hearts desire/ whatever they can imagine but at some point during puberty the daemon will "settle" into the form that most closely resembles the person's inner self.

a few key things to know about daemons, firstly, they are usually the opposite gender to their human counterpart (bear in mind this book was published in the 90s). and secondly, daemons are tied/linked to their person. they can move some distance (depending on the type of daemon) away from their human but it hurts when that bond is stretched too far. thirdly, if the human dies, the daemon dies with them. this isn't always true in the opposite case.

as for general etiquette, humans address humans and daemons address daemons. humans never, ever touch another person's daemon unless they are exceptionally intimate/close with each other (and even then it's done in private) as it's seen as taboo but daemons can and do interact with each other.

one other thing i forgot to mention, daemons can talk! they have names, personalities and independent thought just like their human counterparts.

within his dark materials it's shown that certain "types" of daemons (and therefore people) excel in certain roles. in particular it is noted that soldiers' daemon's usually take the form of canines. this is the basis of gaz, soap and price's daemons.

[the-bloody-sadist]

Hi, it's been a while - I haven't looked at anything bsd related in a while (besides just reading the last chapter of the sinner epilogue) because it's not one of my current fixations, but I wondered if I could hear more from you about emotions? Recently my brain has been rotten by a love of computers and robots and maths and physics and I have been obsessively consuming all versions of I have no mouth and I must scream (have you heard of it? If not, ihnmaims is a short sci-fi story written by Harlan Ellison about an AI, AM, torturing the last 5 humans). The relationship between Ted and AM is fascinating to me, especially in terms of what 'emotions' AM feels towards him, and it reminded me of something that I think you wrote about how intertwined hate and love are - how hate is to care enough about a person to want their suffering and pain (I'm not entirely sure if that was you, forgive me if I'm wrong-). I'll spare you my ramblings about the story itself unless you are interested in hearing more, but I am very curious about your perspective on a being who was created for war, gained sentience and immense power and intelligence but will never be free, will never belong, will never play Mozart on the ivory keys of a fortepiano... a being who cannot feel in a way we can conceive but is driven by hatred, who craves humanity or release yet cannot die, who has no mouth but must scream.

There is a point where AM invades Ted's mind, ramming The Hate Monologue in the form of a steel pillar into his mind - some of the lines in this section make me go a little bit feral - "AM touched me in every way I had ever been touched, and devised new ways, at his leisure, there inside my mind."

It's incredibly intrusive, and for Ted there is no escape from AM - it's physical machinery covers the entire planet and the humans live within it, it's 'belly slaves'. As AM cannot die it keeps them alive, pretty much immortal (but not indestructible) and in the end, Ted too has no mouth though he must scream.

It's a fascinating mix of hatred, envy, deification, love (?), hope, resignation, invasion, co-dependence, wires and viscera that can never mix or understand each other but are the same in every way.

Apologies for the rambling infodump (especially if you have already read it/have absolutely no interest in this sort of thing - this isn't a rec, just my putrefied brain matter leaking into your ask box), I should really be asleep right now so I would not be surprised if this is entirely incomprehensible.... I just want to study them under an electron microscope.... It's a very grim story, with a powerful sense of the indomitable human spirit but very grim nonetheless. The hyperfixation is hyperfixating....

Anyway I should shut up, and I would love to hear your thoughts (I don't even know what I was intending this ask to be .. I can't remember now but I don't think it was .. this..) and thank you for putting up with this mess of a message- hope you have a lovely day/night!

- 🪼

P.S. oh yes! I loved the last chapter of sinner's epilogue- your writing never fails pluck my heartstrings like.. a very strange surgeon (?)(I'm so sorry I am very tired)(I have no brain and I must sleep...) I adore how you write Fyodor's experience of emotion and (as always) Dazai's fear and panic-

Okay listen, I don't plan to get into this story (I've watched essay videos on it so I do know about it, at least), but I respect how much time you took describing this to me in my asks box, so I'm putting it out for anyone else who might find it cool!

Despite my love for psychological trauma, some stories are a certain flavor that I know I shouldn't get into, and IHNMAIMS belongs in that category. Pretty sure if I read it it'll haunt me for the rest of my life and I'll have to deal with a big depressive episode over it for the weeks after, WHICH IS NEVER FUN.

This and other reasons are why I never read A Little Life, and then I learned that I dodged a bullet by putting the book down on the first instance of Jude's cutting episodes, BECAUSE OH MY GOD DUDE THAT STORY DID NOT HANDLE IT THE WAY I NEEDED IT TO BE HANDLED AND I COULD SMELL WHERE THE STORY WAS GONNA GO WITH IT AND TAPPED OUT. I won't get into the frustration of A Little Life but IHNMAIMS felt like it would be that same level of too much grim, not enough plot?? for me. Does that make sense? Too much bad happening just feels like dragging myself through mud without reason, making myself miserable by enduring hours of hurt-no-comfort LMAO

Regardless, thanks for talking to me about it! I knew most of the details of the story, but it was entertaining to read your description of it--I'm glad you find such interest in the story!

ALSO THANKS FOR THE COMPLIMENTS ON THE NEWEST SINNER EPILOGUE, I'M ACTUALLY WRITING YET ANOTHER ONE CURRENTLY...AHAHA....THEY NEVER STOP....we'll see how long it takes me since my writing has been out of touch with me for a while, but fingers crossed! <3

[alpydk]

The Circling Sky (Part 1)

New story. Gale x OC (F)

Summary: Lissa comes from a troubled background, an alcoholic father who's caused more problems for her than he's worth dragging her around Faerûn. After being in Waterdeep for a short while it's time for her to move again. Gale has been in Waterdeep since the defeat of the Netherbrain. He's lonely and restless. After receiving news of the death of a friend he decides to travel back to Baldur's Gate. The story follows their journey together and the connections the two outcasts build between each other.

Ao3 Link

“Mr. Dekarios?” She watched as the wizard approached the counter of the Blackstaff Academy library. She’d only been employed a short while and yet each day she had seen this same man enter, requesting various tomes on magic and the weave. She tucked her ashen blonde curls behind her pointed ears, making her face a little more visible to him. He was always such a flirt when he spoke with people, and though she had viewed him as arrogant, she couldn’t help but enjoy it a little when his dark brown eyes would fall on her. 

“My dear Lissa, you’re looking as beautiful as ever, one might say the picture of radiance.” His voice was smooth and elegant. She liked how he raised her spirits, even on the days when she’d rather have stayed in bed. She watched the way his clean-shaven jaw moved with each word, distracted by his soft lips. 

She handed over the stack of books, letting her hair fall to hide the reddening of her cheeks. “Um, your order, Mr. Dekarios.”

He smiled softly at her. “Gale will do, as I’ve told you before.” He placed a hand over hers as he took the books. She could feel the warmth of his palm, the soft pads of his fingertips as they stroked, taking the pile from her. 

Lissa composed herself. Her father had always told her to never trust a wizard. They were nothing but snobbery and unbridled ambition, always full of themselves and blind to the realities of the real world. They believed everything could be solved with one spell or another, choosing mind control over diplomacy, a fireball over flint and tinder. They’d lost their way and so they were not worth listening to. “Mr. Dekarios, just sign this, please.” She slid a sheet of paper across the counter. Her heart was pounding. She hated the effect he had on her.

He delicately signed his name on the page, placing the quill down next to it. “I don’t suppose you’ve decided on whether you’re willing to take me up on that offer of a drink, have you?”

She swallowed the nerves that built up. Of course, she’d thought over it; the idea of sipping wine with him discussing topics such as their love of poetry before inevitably leaving for somewhere more private, something she had heard used to happen often amongst the staff of the library when it came to Mr. Dekarios. But rumours also spoke of this not having happened in a long while. That a new woman had entered his life, his nighttime adventures becoming fewer and further between. “I’ve told you I’m not allowed, we can’t have relations with-”

Gale cut her off. “Not relations, my friend. Merely a drink. A chance to get to know one another.”

She sighed. Getting to know one another? That’s not how the others had described it at all; unless it was getting to know physical aspects of one another. She considered the latter before quickly pushing it aside. “I’m sorry, I will have to decline.”

“Well,” he spoke, and she saw a glimmer of disappointment on his face. “That’s quite alright. You cannot blame a man for trying.” He placed a palm on top of the books. “Until tomorrow then, Lissa.” He bowed his head slightly to her and left, leaving her to release the long-held breath she’d been carrying. 

***

“Well, I heard it had been going on for some time. Apparently when he was at the academy.”

“But she wouldn’t do that to him that young, would she?”

“Well, you know these deities, no concept of what age is when it comes to mortals.”

“But he was only seventeen!”

“Old enough for some, it seems.”

Lissa tried not to eavesdrop on the gossip whilst she drank her coffee. Normally it was about relationships between the staff, someone’s new haircut, and generally two-faced complaining. Today it was about Gale Dekarios. 

“Well, it certainly explains why he stopped coming around here and poaching on the staff. The last fling was a while ago with that young man from Daggerford.”

“The elf? I always wondered why he seemed so glum. To be used like that and tossed aside. What a horrible young man that Dekarios fellow was.”

“Well, it seems his year away from Waterdeep did him some good. Though I do think the beard suited him better.”

She placed her cup down and left, their comments getting under her skin more than she would have liked. What did she care who he was sleeping with? A relationship with a goddess? A year away from Waterdeep? No doubt to explore and find himself. So, he needed to explore a little more than others, what was wrong with that? She gritted her teeth and walked through the library knowing that in about thirty minutes he would come to collect his new order.  

***

Thirty minutes became an hour became the whole afternoon. For the first time in two months, Gale had not collected his books as he usually would. Lissa tapped her fingers impatiently on the counter, mindlessly looking to the main door and then back to the small pile of books at her side. 

The voice of her boss drew her out of her thoughts. “Lissa dear, your shift ended ten minutes ago.”

She turned and smiled at the elderly gentleman. “Oh, I know, but Mr. Dekarios has yet to pick up his order. I’m sure he will be here any moment.”

“Well, why don’t you just drop them off on your route home? You go past the docks, right? He has a room not far from there.”

***

Lissa stood in the rain. Her clothes were soaked through and though the books were safe in her bag, she’d been forced to pull it under her cloak meaning her one shoulder was now freezing with no protection from the elements. She’d banged on the door to the tower and was hoping for an answer soon, and yet time seemed to slow down. The longer she stood there, the more she considered just taking the books home with her and then he could collect them directly from the library. Something didn’t feel right though, every day he would pick them up at the same time without fail. She banged the door a little bit harder waiting for a reply.

The locks clicked and the door opened a fraction, Gale’s face peering through the crack. “Lissa?” He opened the door a little more, his normally smart robes unbuckled, revealing a section of his chest. 

She turned her eyes from him with a blush. “Mr. Dekarios…” A raindrop ran from her hairline down the back of her neck causing her to shiver involuntarily. She glanced over at him and fumbled with her bag, the cold making it difficult to grip the clasp.

“Don’t just stand on the doorstep, come in, come in.” He ushered her into the hallway of his tower, closing the door behind her. She felt the temperature change instantly, her shivering slowing a little. “Let me get you a towel”

She rubbed at her arms, trying to calm the goosebumps and tension in her system. “Oh, there’s no need. I’m just here to-” 

“Now, my dear. It’s quite alright. Let’s get you dried off before you catch your death of cold.” He started to unclip the cloak from around her neck and though she wanted to object she could do nothing but look at the way his eyes focussed on her, a soft smile emerging on her face. 

“Books…”

“Books? Ah, yes. My order today.” He took the cloak from her and carried it away with him. Lissa followed, trying to open her pack as she went. “Apologies for not collecting them. There was an unexpected interruption.” He flicked a wrist causing the fireplace to light up, the heat of the flames instantly providing comfort.

She placed the bag down and started to pull the books out but then felt the feeling of Gale’s hand upon her shoulder. Her body tensed ever so slightly and she looked up at him, his soft eyes staring down at her.

“Do not worry about the books just yet. Let's just get you warm and dry first.” 

She stood and he rubbed at her upper arms. She noticed how close he was to her, how gentle his touch was, how soft his lips were. Words were forgotten to her as his hand crept from her shoulder to around her ear, rubbing the tip gently with his thumb. Her heart pounded in her chest and for a brief moment, all logic and reason abandoned her. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel those soft lips upon hers. He leaned in slightly to her, a small creeping smile emerging.

Never trust a wizard. Her father’s words drifted through her mind at the worst moment, causing her to come to her senses and take a step back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dekarios.” Her voice trembled but she would hold her own. “I am just here to deliver your books.” 

She hurriedly picked up her bag without giving him any chance to apologise and turned for the door.

“Lissa, I didn’t mean…” He had no words for what he had wanted to do, instead letting her leave, her cloak still lying in front of the fireplace.

***

Gale had been intending to leave his tower for his regular walk along the docks to the library. He’d done this every day since he had returned to Waterdeep over two months ago, a mindless routine that got him outside into the fresh air and prevented him from secluding himself as he had previously done. 

Since the defeat of the Netherbrain, his travelling companions and he had all gone their separate ways and though he’d returned in good health, the orb quelled, and him back in good favour with Mystra, he often found himself feeling quite lonely. Most of his colleagues at Blackstaff had not even noticed his four-month absence and some had come to believe he had died much earlier than this during his 1 year seclusion. He couldn’t help but feel out of place again now that he had returned to the one place he had longed to be.

The library was his one place of solace, the many shelves of fiction he could lose himself in, adventures that compared little to what he had lived through himself; the books of magic and spells were almost completely memorised over his years of study. If anything he now attended for the various people, those who enjoyed the literary arts, those who were soft-spoken and knowledgeable. He ignored the whispers of the staff who worked there. Many had known him from his earlier years as a student when he was more rambunctious and eager to impress. He’d been an unfortunate soul desperate to connect with others, a young prodigy who at times felt alienated from his peers. Though his time since Mystra had rectified this, he was still known for his past misdeeds, especially amongst the younger of the personnel. 

The young half-drow Lissa was one that didn’t seem to listen to the gossip. Each day she was there with a smile, her light blue eyes bright at his approach, and often he was reminded of Tav. He’d tried several times to engage her in deeper conversation to get to know her more, but each time she stuck to her job, never calling him by his first name no matter how much he requested her to. He had noticed the blush though, the way that after a few weeks, she would tuck her blonde hair back just for him, normally letting it hang down for others. He wanted to get to know her better and each day had become a small mission just to interact with her.

The previous day she had turned him down for an evening together and although he’d been a little hurt he wasn’t going to let it affect him. His near death to the orb, to the Netherbrain, to almost everything during his time on the Sword Coast, had given him a lot more confidence in himself and he was slowly feeling like his old outcast self again. Yes, he didn’t fit in completely, but he accepted that now. He had his magic, his charisma, he liked himself, and that’s all that mattered. 

The letter lying on the table is what had been preventing his excursion today. He’d read it over several times trying to make sense of the words, trying to find out why someone would create such a lie and send it to him. 

Gale Dekarios,

This letter has been written on behalf of Duke Ravenguard. 

I hope this letter finds you well. I apologise for his lack of correspondence during these last few months but my duties towards Baldur’s Gate have kept me quite occupied. I’m sorry to hear about the passing of Tav, I know you both were close.

Enclosed is a copy of the book Magic of the Weave - An Introduction, they said you’d left it at camp one day by accident. I will try to visit Waterdeep during the spring providing I find the time. Look after yourself.

Yours sincerely

Wyll Ravenguard (Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate)

None of it made sense. Tav had been well when they parted, apparently wanting to continue adventuring, but to die so suddenly? Gale turned the paper over trying to find any sign of deception. The seal had been official, the paper and ink of high quality, and even the courier had been official from Baldur’s Gate. The banging at the door didn’t register the first time, the questions taking his attention. As they faded from his mind, he heard the noise and opened the door to find Lissa standing in the pouring rain.

His initial reaction had been to want to grab her and just be held by her, to have someone with whom he could mourn,  but he barely knew her and Lissa had always viewed him with complete professionalism meaning he could not burden her with such troubles. He invited her in with the hope that he would not feel lonely on this night, still questioning the contents of the letter, denying that Tav could even be gone. As he rubbed her shoulders to warm her, his emotions had gotten the better of him, making him long for an escape from the realities of his current situation. Lissa had smiled and blushed. She’d gazed up at him caringly in the same way Tav had all those months ago and for a moment he had believed that it was his friend with him again. It was only as she stepped back that he realised his mistake, losing himself in the moment with her. 

Gale hadn’t wanted to let her leave, his thoughts spiralling further down than they had in a long time. All he could do was stand and watch the flames of the fireplace, wishing that he just had one friend in this moment of loss.

[twinkleallnight]

The First Kiss:

Book: TRR - My series Once upon a time AU

Pairings: Drake x Olivia

Word count:2340

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry. 

Rating: Teens

A/N 1: This one shot happens when the teenage prince and his friends are on a short holiday at Lythikos. 

A/N 2: Thanks @lizzybeth1986 for extending a helping hand as always. 

Prompt:  @springfeverpitch : first base fic for Dralivia ( swing, pillow, "can I kiss you?") 

Prompt 2 of @choicesflashfics in bold 

May fit in for National kissing day of @choicesjunechallenge @liaromancewriter  

Image courtesy

"I came first." 

"But I saw it first."

"I reached out for it first." 

"But I caught hold of it first." 

"I get to use it because I am a boy." 

"No, I get to use it because I am a Nevrakis."

The sentences were growing longer as was the argument. Savannah and Liam looked at each other, rolled their eyes, huffed a sigh in unison and sat down on a rock. This was not how they had planned their weekend at Lythikos but It was a routine for them to witness Drake and Olivia arguing over trivial issues. As kids, it would be cheese or jam on bread or the equal distribution of chocolates received from a generous visitor to the palace. Growing up, as teenagers it changed to, who gets the window seat on a drive or who gets which horse for a ride. At this moment, they were fighting for a piece of driftwood shaped like a sword that they found in the snow outside the Lythikan chateau. 

"You already have Zenobia!" Drake yelled. 

"Had! Max broke it." 

"Not my problem." Drake shrugged. 

Savannah snickered at the mention of Olivia's childhood toy sword. "Are they ever going to grow up?" 

Liam shook his head, "Someone needs to remind them that they are fifteen not five." 

"What if they never change?" 

"They will change when they realise their true feelings." He smiled. 

"You really think so?" 

Liam gave a wide grin. 

Savannah smiled back saying, "You know, you are…." 

" … a hopeless romantic." He completed her sentence. "I know."  

Thud! The sudden shift of sound cut their conversation short. 

Savannah panicked at the scene in front of her. "Oh, no,no,no. No!" 

Drake tried to snatch the wood from Olivia and one thing led to another. Soon, they were both wrestling.

Liam and Savannah jumped up. It was an unwritten agreement between the two that they wouldn't intervene unless the fight converted to physical form of infliction. And it was also pre-decided that Liam would manage Olivia while Savannah would catch and push Drake away. Olivia with all her Nevrakis might was impossible for Savannah to handle. Savannah found it easy with Drake. A simple tickling on his sides and his body would give way.

Savannah nodded, "Now!"  Liam leapt and  caught hold of Olivia by waist, pulling her away. As soon as Olivia's clutch loosened from Drake's neck, Savannah pushed Drake, butting her head into his muscular chest. Her fingers crawled upwards on his sides. 

Drake started squealing, "No, not again. Savvie! This is… aaaaa..unfair! Stop!" 

On the other end, Liam was trying to calm down a ferocious Olivia, but she was throwing her limbs in the air frantically. "Leave me!" 

Suddenly, a loud shriek made Olivia stop and turn. Savannah had fallen down and Drake had toppled over her. 

Liam released Olivia and they both rushed to her side. Drake untangled his leg and moved aside to find her yelping in pain. "I am sorry, Savvie, I didn't mean to. Here, let me.." He tried to lift her but her left leg seemed to be badly twisted. She screamed in pain. 

"What's wrong?" They all turned to look at Bastein who had rushed to them, after listening to the noise. 

"Bas,..." Savannah started crying, "I can't stand. I may not be able to walk." 

"Shhh! Let me have a look." He quickly hunched down and examined her leg. Savannah would not let him touch. She seemed to be in extreme pain. "Savannah dear, I think you have sprained your foot badly. Let me call for first aid. " 

Bastein made a few calls. In a matter of a few minutes, her leg was put in a temporary splint and a SUV was ready to take her to hospital. 

Drake tried to help Savannah but she raised her hand to stop him. "You have done enough damage," she wailed out. Liam took the hint and promptly came ahead to help. Drake quietly stepped aside feeling more guilt. 

Liam asked concerned, "Bas, can I go along with her to the hospital?" 

"If you insist." 

Liam's face lit up. " Yes, please." He swiftly climbed into the seat next to Savannah. He then gave a scornful look to his friends. "Try not to kill each other. Warriors of Lythikos." He taunted and moved his hand across Savannah's shoulder, protectively.  

Once the vehicle moved out of sight Olivia's  caretaker Ms Berkes, ushered her and Drake in for a warm drink. 

Drake sat slumped. 

"She didn't really mean it you know, right?" Olivia made a statement.

"Hmm. I am sorry." 

"What? What did you just say?" Olivia looked with her eyes wide as a pan.

Drake cleared his throat to repeat. "I said, " I am sorry." 

"Drake Walker is apologizing! I can't believe it!" She threw her hands up I the air. 

"Please. You have to let me make this right.” Had I not been stubborn, Savvie wouldn't have gotten hurt so badly." 

Olivia waved it off, "Stop blaming yourself for a little mishap. She should have been careful. She should have gauged whom she was tackling." Olivia got up to leave, "Anyways, it looks like it will snow soon. I am going to grab a book in the library." She announced and then mumbled on her way, " Lost that sword stick too! " She pouted her lips. Her hand started fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. 

Drake caught the way her hand grabbed the cloth, a sign that she was dejected over losing the sword. Now, he felt even worse. He couldn't make either of the ladies happy. Savannah was hurt badly and he couldn't be beside her for comfort. Thankfully, Liam was with her. Fine, so what if Savvie left, at least he could prove it to Olivia. She was still here. He looked out of the glass window. The storm hadn't set in yet. It looked like a faint drizzle. What if he quickly ran out and got that piece of wood for Olivia? 

He rushed out without giving it a second thought. A fresh layer of snow had covered the already white grounds. He scrambled through the rough terrain, ignoring his insufficient clothing for the harsh climate. He was unmindful of his bare hands without the gloves when he tried shifting snow to dig in a bit if it was where they left it. 

Finally he was successful. He started running back to the Chateau. The moment he entered, he heard Olivia calling out for him.

"Drake, Bastein called. There is a storm coming so they won't….." she stopped mid sentence when her eyes fell on Drake near the entrance. He was beaming as if he had won a trophy but what she saw was Drake in a disheveled state. 

"What on earth were you upto?" She said in a shocked tone.

"I found the sword. Here." He presented the piece of wood with a puffed up chest. He was sure she would be excited to see it. "For you." 

"Are you out of your mind?" She lashed out instead. He was confused. Did he do something wrong now? 

"It's snowing out there. The storm is setting in and you went out like this?" She pointed out his attire. "Where is your sweater? And where are the gloves?" 

All at once, realization hit him. The adrenaline rush had kept him going. He felt the shiver creeping up his body now. He was cold and numb. 

"Ms Berkes!" Olivia shouted. She closed the distance between them and held Drake who was now turning pale. Without waiting for her caretaker, she started dusting away the remnants of snow from his body. She pulled out the coat from the hanger stand  at the corner of the entrance and covered Drake's visibly shivering body. 

"Come here." She made him sit on the couch and started rubbing his hands. Ms Berkes came in the meantime and without any questions helped Drake. 

He kept looking between the two of them, dumbfounded. Whenever he tried to open his mouth to speak, Olivia would shut him. "Keep quiet. You need to conserve whatever energy is left in that weak body of yours." 

He decided to keep his mouth zipped if he had to survive under the Lythikan roof and that too in Olivia's presence. 

 Ms Berkes served him hot soup that made him comfortable. Soon he was fast asleep on the couch. Olivia arranged a pillow to tuck under Drake's head. She sat down with her cell phone, checking the weather updates. She couldn't complete her sentence earlier to tell Drake that Liam and Savannah won't be returning due to an alert from the Met department.  Ms Berkes took the excuse to place a call to the palace and update Bastein. 

Olivia took the cue and dialed Liam's number. 

"Good evening." 

"Good evening." 

"How's Savannah?" 

"She is good. Resting in the west wing under Bastein's watch. How are you?" 

"Good." She let out a sigh.

Liam chuckled. "Is Drake troubling you again?"

"Don't ask." 

"That bad, huh?" Liam snickered.

Olivia looked at Drake's sleeping form. He looked peaceful. "He went out just before the storm." She rolled her eyes. "Without a sweater!" She added. 

"What? How is he?" 

"Ms Berkes helped him warm up. He is alive." She wanted to kick him for causing all the trouble. 

"But why did he go out? It's unlike him to act so stupid." Liam questioned. 

"To get that wooden sword." 

"Seriously? That's crazy. He is still fighting over that piece when his sister.." 

Olivia interrupted, "for me." She said in a barely audible voice. 

"For?" Liam asked. Did he hear it right? 

She winced at the thought and the reaction Liam may give. "You heard it." She won't repeat it. 

A hearty laugh boomed through the earpiece of her phone. Olivia closed her eyes and covered them. She could dig in a hole in the earth just to hide herself, right now. This was so embarrassing. 

"I told you." He laughed again. " I always told you." 

"Whatever." She tried to take it casual. 

"No, you can't deny it. The guy is serious. He really likes you. All the fights and arguments he has with you, they are all just a facade to hide his feelings. Poor Drake." 

"Poor?" Olivia almost jumped. "I had to spend an hour to warm him up." 

"Oh really, and may I know how you did that?" Liam teased. 

"The medical first aid that all Lythikans learn as a baby." Olivia was not going to have a foot in mouth moment. She was not going to let him know that in the spur of the moment, she had hugged him to exchange her body heat to warm him up. That she had cuddled up till she was sure that he was fine. She shifted the focus. " I am tired after all the hard work. You take care. We will travel back to the palace tomorrow morning after weather clears." 

"Sure, you take care of yourself. Don't pick up fights with Drake. Trust me, he really likes you." 

"Good night, Li." She stressed on ending the conversation.  

"Good night Liv." She could hear the thrill in his voice.

She tapped on the red icon and callously slid the phone on the couch. Her gaze shifted to Drake. She got up from her place and scooted down near him. Drake. As she knew him. Or did she know him? The chubby face had changed so much in the past few years. But their fights had not. The cute little voice with which he adoringly called her 'Livy' had turned husky with a depth to it. But the affection in that voice had not changed. The boy had grown up into a lad who could manage many things. But not his silky hair. A smile danced on her lips. Her hand unknowingly went up to the few stray strands that had fallen over his eyes. Her fingers gently moved the chestnut hair aside and traveled over the contours of his chiseled face to stop near his lips. Her lips curled looking at his slightly open mouth. She lowered herself dangerously close to him, breathing the same air. Her lips had just brushed over his parted lips when….

"Olivia?" She heard Ms Berkes' soft whisper. 

She acted to be tucking the blanket around Drake and stood straight. 

"I think he is fine now. I will catch up some sleep. Good night, Ms Berkes." Olivia scurried away from the scene. 

She spent a sleepless night, tossing in the bed. Outside the skies were dealing with a storm and inside, Olivia was fighting her own inner storm. 

*************************************************

Next morning. ...

The sky was clear and the wind pleasant  as was Olivia's mood. She had a skip in her step when she went out in the gardens. There was sometime before they got clearance for traveling to the palace. She sat on a swing but didn't swing. Only her thoughts were swinging and singing to her. 

She was so engrossed that she didn't notice Drake walking down and sitting on the neighboring swing.

"Good morning, Livy. " 

She was startled but quicly composed herself. "Good morning." 

She said curtly and turned her head in opposite direction. He was back to normal. There were no signs of any effect of storm on him. And there was no sign of any effect of last night's rendezvous.  She wasn't sure about the later. She just hoped there was none. 

He tried to initiate the conversation, "Thank you." 

"Thank you for what? Letting you survive another day." She smirked.

Drake gave a genuine smile, "For all you did yesterday for me." 

"You don't need to mention." Olivia looked away hiding the blush creeping on her neck. 

"I want to say one more thing." 

"What is it? " Her heart raced as she glanced at him.

"You left something with me last night. I wanted to give it back to you." 

She gave him a puzzled look.

"Can I kiss you?" 

Tags: @3pawandme @alj4890   @angelasscribbles   @bascmve01 @bebepac   @busywoman @dcbbw @choicesficwriterscreations   @harleybeaumont   @iaminlovewithtrr   @karahalloway @kingliam2019   @lizzybeth1986 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone   @neotericthemis   @mom2000aggie @phoenixrising0308 @princess-geek @sazanes @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @sillydg @tessa-liam @tinkie1973 @txemrn     @walkerdrakewalker @rubiwalker @703cowbarn @kyra75 @likealotus @marietrinmimi @juan-francisco-palencia

[ri47]

A Reminder on VesalBlood Project Fanworks Policy

we've been on hiatus for a little bit, and seeing as it looks to be in fashion, it's time for us to emerge from hiatus solely to shoot ourselves in the foot.

probably an ill omen to joke about that, but it seemed like the most eyecatching way to open a business as usual reminder. how're you all doing? this update's from rin's desk

feel free to skip this if you're mad about the clickbait or have already read the fanworks policy. there is a bit about translation at the end that may interest international fans, though.

GENERAL STUFF

I've gotten a few asks about this, and while it's covered on the official site, I wanted to lay things out here so that people who haven't checked out our beautiful hub (check it out! I like to think it's quite pretty!) know it in no uncertain terms

RI47 HEAVY INDUSTRIES fully supports all fanworks within the extent permitted to us by international copyright law, which we unfortunately must obey. would that I could tell you to break that, but I can't, so I shan't.

you can make zines, comics, fanfiction, games, songs, whatever you want. you have blanket permission to produce crafts, physical and digital, as long as you don't attempt to impersonate RI47, pass it off as official, or otherwise operate in a for-profit capacity. we ask that, in cases where you do want to sell something, you run it by us first (and send us a copy!)

TRANSLATION STUFF

because VesalBlood Project is the work of a small team (presently consisting of two permanent members and a few contributors), it's not currently viable for us to work on releasing anything in multiple languages. not gonna attach any sob stories here, but every member of the team is below poverty line and works on the project as a labour of love.

English speakers, as it stands, make up the majority of the audience. this means that releasing in English is the most viable way to make sure that VesalBlood is available to as many people as possible with a budget of zero. I regret that it's this way, but officially translating an unfinished work is unfortunately just not in the cards.

all that aside, while you have permission to translate and distribute things related to VesalBlood to your heart's content, we do have an official book of translation documents that has been maintained for the entirety of the project's existence. while these documents aren't publicly available due to containing spoilers for future projects, we would be happy to share relevant sections with anyone who would like to translate VesalBlood for a wider audience

if we haven't released something in your language, whether or not it's commercial, we'll look the other way if you happen to be offering it somewhere that it's otherwise unavailable.

while we have general translation notes for most localisation efforts, mainly detailing connotations of certain terms and which ones should remain untranslated, there are slightly more specific translation notes available for French, German, Japanese, Mandarin, Polish, Portugese, Russian, and Spanish efforts. these notes mainly contain information specific to speech patterns and the characters used in names, but contain a few "official" translations for trickier setting terms that don't exist outside of VesalBlood

all that being said, I don't personally recommend translating Diesem Fernen Traum yet, unless you specifically want to translate the beta version of a work-in-progress

translation is the greatest show of love that I, personally, think can be given to a work. sharing something with others even when it's not easy is a deeply beautiful thing, and I'm eternally thankful to everyone who's ever set out to do it

The Short of It

if you want to make fan merchandise related to RI47, you can do it as long as it's not for profit.

don't impersonate us (it's very rude)

if you want to make something based on RI47's works on a for profit basis, we can talk about it, but you need permission.

if you want to translate anything official from RI47, you can do it.

we have translation documents we want to share with you. it will make your life easier. there are some translations that were written in advance solely to take work off your shoulders.

if you release a translation of something that would otherwise be paywalled, we wouldn't hold it against you.

as an addendum to the previous note, if you want to translate something that would otherwise be paywalled, we would like it if we could work with you on the process

Diesem Fernen Traum is unfinished and subject to revision with time, so consider that before setting out to translate it

in this studio, we love and respect translators

until next time, rin

[adultswim2021]

HIGH-ATE-US

Hey, everyone. It's me, your erstwhile blogster. Sorry or not updating this blog for months. Things got "real weird", as they like to say in the UK. But now is the time to resume my bad life's bad work: blogging about all of Adult Swim (within reason). Umm... here we go! (I am doing an insulting gay-voice when I italicize)

It is thanksgiving. I cooked myself a nice big steak and decided to get high for the first time in a while. Really! It has actually been a while! I mostly just been doing low-dose THC CBD gummies to manage anxiety, and have not touched my more potent "fun" edibles in months. The CBD ones sorta work? I haven't intentionally highed-myself in a big while, and me being high is your big boon: in this state I have decided to come back here and start posting again. I need to get back into writing. It may still save my life yet... (sigh!)

I am watching old Letterman clips (from 1985; Milos Foreman is talking about god-knows-what). Old Letterman is very soothing to me. It is one of the first shows I ever fell in love with. I am keeping a text list of my favorite bits from a big collection of clips that I cut up into chronological order so one could roughly experience the timewarp effect of watching not only an old thing, but a lot of the same old thing in chronological order as some facsimile of time travel, or express some desire to live a parallel life where I am the same age I currently am now, but it's the 1980s. I can't be a kid again? Okay, fine. But can't I at least continue being an adult in some other time? I have be here RIGHT NOW? NO. THAT SUCKS.

why I'm trying to keep track of my favorite bits have to do with some absolutely delusional idea that I have, where I create some kind of monument to some idea of an all-encompassing television canon that I have. I'm too embarrassed to speak of it in depth, because it is truly loser shit. It isn't exactly this, but it is close to it in some spiritual way: imagine ranking every single comedy sketch you've ever seen. Is there a website that lets you do this.

I yearn for a simpler life where I live an era where physical media perfection was laserdisc, and you had to spend over $100 on a movie if Criterion happens to be the ones releasing it. That is to say, I'm in a pretty good, fairly productive mood. Let's face it: pontification is stimulating, and sadly, it's been a long while since I've felt STIMULATED. Let's take the old thinking cap out for a spin shall weee!

This post is not an episode recap, but it is me catching up on all my mails that piled up during my "real weird" exile. Some messages may be very old/irrelevant and I'm sorry if I can't answer them correctly. I will do my best.

snusuwiwjs asked:

Have you watched Jellystone S3E14 - Space Con?

I saw the RELEVANT CLIPS. This show looks very fun. I haven't been watching it for some reason. Too busy watching old Letterman. I watch stuff that doesn't require me to sit down and ACTIVELY watch it because I moved and don't have a nice big TV yet, because logistical issues persist (I received "TV Money" from my parents in the form of a Target gift card and buying the TV I want from them would require a third party such as u-haul because for some fucked up reason they won't deliver large televisions). I watch everything on a computer monitor, and I stray towards podcast and youtube junk as a result of that.

I have issues with procrastinating, too, so it's taken me this long just to get myself a couch, a laptop table for use with a couch, and a coffee table for nearby supplies and devices. I am in a very slow-moving phase lately. Pray for me that it ends soon. Anyway, I wasn't pissed off about Jellystone recasting Zorak and Moltar, unless they were going to try and have them voice Coast to Coast versions of them.

Sorta related: I have an idea for a Space Ghost finale, that would be in book-form, and I don't know if it'd be inappropriate to try and give the IP-holders in charge the idea for it, and also I think it is lame and embarrassing to have ideas for things like this when you're not actually in charge of this type of decision-making. It makes me almost worse than a fan-fiction writer. I on some level imagine myself in a pitch room saying this stuff, and that is objectively gay.

I am just going to talk about that here, because fuck it. It would be a post show-biz memoir from Space Ghost, at least by the cover that's what it'd look like. Then the memoir part (which is insane and full of very untrue sounding things) ends abruptly, because Space ghost didn't know how to fill up the required page length. So the book switches gears to make up for that, and it becomes an in-character oral history of the show, with the characters talking about the making of the show, focusing on fictional installments of the show, the conceit being that there are episodes of Coast to Coast that never aired on Earth.

Because you're describing all new-episodes, you could get famous people to riff out a fake talk show scenario they supposedly experienced in one of these unseen episodes. The cornerstone of this section of the book will be the characters describing the finale of Coast to Coast. Maybe they honor Toonami canon and have Moltar depart the galaxy, never to be hard from again. Oh yeah the book would also go out of it's way to include this as is the in-universe reason that Moltar's sections in the oral history are all specifically said to be from archival sources and attributed to previous publications, like he wasn't interviewed specifically for the book.

I do not have actual story ideas for this. Just concepts. I am sorry if you thought there'd be more. I am just describing a Space Ghost book that I would be very excited to read. Anyway, that section of the book ends and then there's a series of all-black pages with white text, resembling adult swim bumpers. They read: "Space Ghost and co. are not real. They're not even human; they're cartoons. Some of the things they do would cause a person to get hurt, expelled, arrested, possibly deported. To put it another way: don't try this at home."

Then the rest of the book will be an actual making-of the real show, like an for-real oral history (and there will be glossy pages with cool Space Ghost art and behind-the-scenes photos), and then the cornerstone of THAT section will be a big list of every guest star they could possibly ask or piece together anecdotally what every guest star on the show thought of their episode after it aired. Give Sean Medlock an entire page to vent.

THAT IS MY IDEA FOR A SPACE GHOST BOOK AND I HOPE THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE ACCESS TO THAT PARTICULAR IP READ THIS AND STEAL ALL OF THESE IDEAS (please let me come to one pitch meeting for it)

Here's another from snusuwiwjs!

Oh hey, you watched Barenaked Ladies! Honestly that’s the only GameTap episode I liked. It is also the only one I watched because I got baited by the title. Anyway, you said there was a Fox fakeout promo for Family Guy on Adult Swim, but I don’t think I could find anything? All reuploads only show the Adult Swim bump, so it would be nice if you could show some proof, mister.

Found a reupload here! Barenaked Ladies is the closest the Gametap episodes came to feeling like a real episode.

I’m sorry to jump ahead, but are you keeping up with the apparent falling-out between Eric Andre and his writing partner Dan Curry over Johnny Knoxville? Curry alleges Knoxville tased him like a week into that ABC prank panel show that Knoxville and Andre were part of, causing Curry a broken bone, and Curry further claims Andre told him not to make a big deal about it. He also claims Andre canceled some of their book tour over this dispute.

I didn't know Eric Andre would ever accuse someone of being a drama queen. I have not followed this, I'm not sure I care about it though just sayin!!! I respect you with peace and love but I don't now if I can have an opinion about this. I need to receive a big check from my car insurance before I can start thinking about stuff like that. I am sorry, but some parts of my brain are simply on hold right now.

Another from snusuwiwjs

member the antenna episode of athf? it’s kind of sad how adult swim fucked their employees over, isn’t it? george, clay, andy were often portrayed as living in the dumps and looking for a job, but it isn’t too far from truth, is it?

No it is not far from the truth at all! It is very sad. The elites ruling over us are denying us god's grace and we must become evil and violent towards them soon. I am parroting something frequent mail-bagger KON said to me while chatting in PRIVATE CHANNELS: They really should just do a Jellystone spin-off with that iteration of Brak. Or "The Calarts Brak Show" as he called it. Get Andy out of those trucks. Somebody could get hurt in those things.

simpsons

That's nice slugger... (BIGGEST EYEROLL IN THE UNIVERSE)

From KON, who is actually just a character I do:

it's time for the blog to come back

No Kon! NOT YET

janeane garofalo in the cable guy

I once had a phase where I tried to become a Janeane completist and I watched all of her movies I think up to MATCHMAKER, which was too bad to bear and made me stop doing that. I still love her. I wish that I could meet her. I had a very good chance once and I let it slip by me. I should maybe attend one of her standing-up comedy engagements, if she still does that.

If anybody has a copy of that Mr. Show commercial where she's dressed like a mallrat and mary lynn rajskub does the Macar-anus but it's an actual HQ video taped from TV and not a guy pointing their phone at the TV screen please let me know.

There are a small number of Promos for Mr. Show that have not been collected on DVD. I want them all! GIVE ME THEM! (the series of ones where they jump through paper hoops for season 4, for example). Also I do not have a nice copy of the season 2 best-of, which was supposed to bet put on DVD but wasn't. That's the one where they are doing a news conference.

i have a special late-breaking scoop just for you: Justin Roiland has passed. he's gone, for good. you have my blessing to inform your readers of this JUICY story

Goodbye Justin Roiland! We loved your funny video games and rabble-rousing rhetoric on bluesky. I hope you thrive in him/he-aven

happy "jimmy carter gets to vote for kamala harris day" to those who celebrate. which adult swim chars do you think are cheering him on :)

Everyone in town is expected to turn out

FROM KON:

Blog's gotta be coming back any day now

♪♫ OH, KON... :D ♪♫

[darkmaga-returns]

Karen Bracken

Oct 21, 2024

Candace Owen has done several awesome investigative videos on the REAL Kamala Harris. This is her latest. Candace had already proven that the picture of Kamala Harris’s grandmother in her book is not her grandmother. But who is she? Candace will eventually find out. She believes the woman in the picture with Kamala is hired help because her Jamaican/Irish ancestors owned slaves. Go figure. Here is the latest on this issue and if you missed Candance’s previous videos where she shows all the research and proof you can find them on her YouTube and Rumble channels. BUT I would sure like to see her and others get into the issue that REALLY matters. Kamala Harris IS NOT A NATURAL BORN CITIZEN and is therefore NOT eligible to be VP or President. Of course going after this is not quite as glamorous but it is THE reason Kamala needs to be removed from the office of VP and removed from the 2024 Presidential race. 34 min. VIDEO

Kentucky man wakes up on operating table as doctors begin to harvest his organs after he's declared brain dead - Organ harvesting is a very lucrative business for hospitals. You cannot harvest an organ from a dead person. Recently I shared a very eye opening interview with a medical professional that exposed the truth about organ donation/harvesting. I made it very clear to my family that I am never to have my organs donated and I advised them not to donate either. Too many people that “may” be determined to be brain dead (how do you know they are not lying to you) will have their organs harvested while they are still physically alive. Gee, what could possibly go wrong especially when a lot of money is involved? ARTICLE

Below is the interview I had shared back in Sept. The first 30 minutes is about a young girl that has suffered a devastating adverse reaction to “vaccine” and the at the 29 minute mark the interview about BRAIN DEATH FRAUD starts - VIDEO

Bioengineered Food by Dr. Sherri Tenpenny - ARTICLE

Social Emotional Learning – Creating a Nation of “Nones” for the New American Religion. - before ESSA (Every Student Succeeds Act) was passed in 2015 I worked with Anita Hoge to warn parents that ESSA was NOT a piece of education legislation but mental health legislation that would only bring harm to future generations. If you are not aware of ESSA and what was in it you might want to catch up. Reading the document is impossible because they made it so long no one could ever get through it not even the legislators that voted for it. The doctrine of SEL is not the job of the school. When parents hand over their parental duties to the federal government (Ie public schools) they will only have themselves to blame when their children turn out to be people that parents can no longer recognize. Public schools are NOT safe for our children. Not mentally; not physically; not morally; not academically - ARTICLE

Here are some resources that will help you understand the dangers in this legislation and most parents do not even know it exists.

Mary Kay Revised Combined Press Release Essa Violations

171KB ∙ PDF file

Download

12 Reasons Why Essa Is Bad

266KB ∙ PDF file

Download

HOW DID HAMAS KNOW?? Unless you are totally brain dead the answer to this question is very obvious - Nick is a Republican legislator in Virginia - Thanks to Brent B. - 10 seconds VIDEO

10,000 Body Bags Were Not Enough - 7 min. VIDEO

[briarandhissecretgarden]

Magic Thoughts

All my magic theories come from the idea of EXP being a source of real magic in the game. All creatures can release it by death and obtain it by doing various tasks. The basis of my ideas is RetroGamingNow's theory, but I'll expand into what is different about it in my ideas and how it presents itself in my canon.

First of all, I believe every creature has some level of magic in them, Skeletons and Zombies are bought to life via some external source of magic, and things like the moon, books, mushrooms and enchanting tables are magic by default. I feel that external source of magic is given to every creature, every being that is alive has some sort of baseline magic to keep them out and about. This is particularly evident in undead mobs that certainly aren't meant to be alive. As well as slimes that don't seem to exist unless certain criteria are met.

I also believe every dimension has it's own version of magic, though they can intertwine and be used in tandem with others/in place of others. Some are more powerful, like the magic that is at work in The End dimension compared to those that happen in the Nether.

Either way, I'll continue on with magic in the sense of it being used and what that looks like.

Magic in my world is very much physical and some kind of spiritual/mental connection.

Physical would refer to potions and enchantments that effect items or how they behave. These are things like Fortune, Looting, Silk Touch, Fire Aspect, etc. etc. Things that have a physical effect on an object or creature. This also blends into portals and their magic qualities brought about by physical items and tools. Physical requirements.

Mental magic can do many of the same things, though it requires much more skill and work to achieve, even then, if you're not very good at it, it'll only ever be as decent as maybe a potion or enchantment.

In my world, magic like this is shown through Evokers mostly, as they can summon and enchant things with their bare hands. I imagine some witches can do this, along with other Illagers like Illusioners and Iceologers. Iceologers would fit into one of the many uses of this kind of magic which is the use of any kind of telekinetic power. Pyrokinesis, Hydrokinesis and many more. This type of magic is channeled through the use of these circles/sigils that are unique to the user. The color doesn't really matter, they tend to correspond to different species, though this is a generalization. Most witches have purples/pinks, most Evokers have blues/greens and most Iceologers have light blues or whites (they all can have any color though, again, a generalization). What really matter is how detailed the sigils are, this shows the mastery of the user.

Here are a few characters of mine's sigils :0)

Dionysus is one of the strongest magic users in my world, her sigil is made of sharp spikes, stars and even an eye. It glows fairly strong, and the lines are complete and straight. Lots of details and lines lots of small bits n stuff!! This shows how proficient she is in her magic use. Next is General Midnight! Having so few magic abilities allows him to be very skilled in them, this gives him a sigil with many details but he doesn't know nearly as much as Dio, thus, he does not have as intricate as a sigil as her :0). Lastly is Leif, my Evoker, he doesn't have much skill, but knows the basics of a few couple spells as all Evokers do!!! Simple and clean very smooth lines, doesn't glow too much but it's noticeable.

This is a good example of how these sigils appear as they channel their powers through them!!! This is Dionysus, using a spell though her little sigil. Magic has an effect on those who use it as well, often affecting a certain part of them!!! This is why Midnight has such sharp teeth and why Dio has altered eyes!! :0))

I should mention, sigil based magic can do everything potions can, but it takes a lot more time and energy. The more powerful a spell is or difficult it is for the user, the more energy it takes out of them physically. Too much magic use or difficult spells over a long amount of time can cause the user to feel sickly, gain a fever, pass out/faint, or even die of exhaustion, though that is rare.

Onto countering magic!!! I believe that milk has special properties that can erase status effects, though I do not think it can take away or dampen a users magic ability!!! Magic is much more complex than it being dissolved by milk. Though, for things that are part of a creatures physical anatomy, milk can be used to nullify effects for a short amount of time (this applies to poison from cave spiders, wither effect from Wither Skeletons, etc. this does not apply to fire-like mobs as any liquid would just put them out anyways and hurt them so ya know)

I do believe using a status effect on a magic user is a good way of disabling their spells!! They would have to take sometime and heal themselves before casting another attack spell, and hurting them can cause their spells to be weaker as they have less energy to spend on fighting rather than healing. Most potent being lingering effects brought on from lingering potions or Poison and strongest, Withering. I do believe mushrooms seem to have a very natural magic property to them, and I think those are some of the best foods you could eat as a magic user if you ever wanted to get a lil extra boost, as well as any golden food items.

This is all subject to change and develop, but this is what I have for now :0) (Rose, Dionysus and Leif introduction posts are in the making btw)

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 3/5

Book Blurb:

In this twisty, fast-paced YA thriller, a dangerous game becomes all too real when Marina and her friends are framed for murder.

When Marina Chan ran from her old life, she brought nothing with her-not even her real name. Now she lives in fear of her past being discovered. But when her online gaming team is offered a tour of their favorite game company, Marina can't resist accepting, even though she knows it might put her fake identity at risk.

Then the creator of the game is murdered during their tour. The killer plans to frame Marina and her friends for the murder unless they win four rounds of a dangerous game. A game that requires them to lie, trespass, and steal. A game that could destroy everything Marina's worked so hard to build…. A game that she might not survive.

This pulse-pounding YA thriller is perfect for fans of A Good Girl's Guide to Murder and Slay.

Review:

A girl with a dark past finds herself being confronted with it when she and her friends are trapped in a deadly game... and if she doesn't beat it they'll be framed for murder. Marina Chan is on the run from her old life, a life that haunts her every waking moment and has left both mental and physical scars on her. She's managed to carve out some semblance of happiness and when her and her online gaming friends are offered a tour from their favorite game company, she can't resist accepting... even if it means putting her fake identity at risk. Yet things only take a turn for the worse when the creator of the game is murdered during their tour and the killer threatens to frame Marina and her friends unless they find a way to beat all four rounds of the game.... and this game will require them to steal, trespass, lie and worst of all.... the killer seems to be targeting Marina specifically. The longer the game goes on the more Marina's secrets begin to reveal themselves... and the killer might be someone closer than she could have ever imagined. This was definitely an interesting read, the book starts off one way, goes another, and then everything hits the fan in the last third of the book. The entire reveal and motivation behind the killer was definitely something. It's a bit of "All the Girls I've Been" vibe and features a wide cast of characters as well. I think if you are a YA reader who looks mysteries with that unfold between past and present and involve a complicated protagonist, I think this would be a book to add to your tbr.

Release Date: July 9,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Bloomsbury USA Children's Books | Bloomsbury YA for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[polinator]

I have come here for one reason. To shout into the void of the internet.

Y'all. Y'all. Y'ALL. Bless your hearts. I love the Bridgerton canon. Since I read TVWLM over 20 years ago... well, liked it since then. Loved it more when I read AOFAG (and yeah, I know some people hate it, but I do not). And I say this as a person who has written fan fiction in this fandom and made physical things celebrating this universe.... It isn't that serious.

These are historical romance novels that lean into comedy a lot of the time. Historical rom coms, if you will. I wish people would stop interpreting them in the most tragic way possible without taking into consideration the intention Julia Quinn had when writing them.

Are there issues with scenes in some of the books? Yes. Do I adore every tiny thing in them? No.

But, what do you think JQ intended? Do you think she intended for her romantic heroes to come off as abusive sometimes? No. (Well, unless you are talking about Turner. For Turner the answer is most definitely yes.) The office scene in TVWLM, the lake scene in AOFAG, the engagement ball scene in RMB, and so on... they were written to be read like physical comedy. Like a screwball comedy. Like I Love Lucy where Ricky spanks Lucy. Is that problematic when we look back at it in 20fucking24? Yes, of course. But was Lucille Ball trying to imply Ricky Ricardo was an abuser? No. It was meant to be funny.

People take Colin to task for thinking about hitting Eloise. Y'all must be fucking saints if you've never thought about hitting your sibling. The fact he only hit her once I find amazing. My sister and I fought all the damn time. The love in the Bridgerton household must have been like a huge bubble. My parents were/are the most amazing parents God had ever put on this earth.... and my sister and I still fought. Also, I've def thought about strangling a boyfriend or two. And a child or two. Did I do it? No. But I thought about it. And you've definitely thought about doing bodily harm to someone. Because it's a human thing. It doesn't mean you are actually going to do it. And it certainly doesn't mean you're an abuser. Good god girl get a grip.

Julia just didn't think about these things as deeply as some in the fandom think she did. Like 20+ years ago when the books were first released they were popular but not that popular. People were not all over it analyzing everything like they are now. (I mean, we were to try to figure out who LW was at the time, but not everything else.)

On the same lines, Edmund was not an abusive father at all. Again, what do you imagine JQ's intentions were when she said Colin was horsewhipped? Do you think she actually meant beaten? No, of course fucking not. Over and over in her canon she shows and tells you what a great father Edmund was. She has absolutely no problem telling you if someone's dad or guardian are trash. Let us count the ways (spoilers below and trigger warnings for real):

Simon's father- pretended he didn't exist because he stuttered, fuck him up so badly he was going to not have an heir just to spite the hateful son of a bitch.

Sophie's dad- didn't give her any attention, left her to be raised by servants, only called her his ward, left her fate in Araminta's hands

Phillip's dad- horrible shit who actually beat Phillip with a whip, his scars are detailed, how he is beaten is detailed, his father's anger is detailed, is a huge part of the book, Phillip is afraid to touch his kids because he doesn't want to be like his father.

Gareth's dad- shit of a human being who treats his youngest son like trash because he is not his biological son, cut him off completely, tried to ruin the estate so he would have a shit ton of debt when he actually died, betrothed him to a girl with intellectual disabilities without his consent and said if he didn't marry her he couldn't go to school

Lucy's uncle- the third to worst person in a JQ book, stole money from their estate, betrothed her to (a very lovely) gay man because he was being blackmailed for treason, said he didn't give a fuck about her, made her believe her father was the treasonous bastard so he could guilt her into marrying the man, threatened Lucy at knifepoint, said he was going to watch while Lucy's marriage was consummated and implied that if her new husband didn't do it he would let the man's father rape her to ensure it happened

And who could forget... Hugh's father- a psychopathic piece of filth so wretched it's hard to list all the horrible things he's done from memory, but just here's just a taste: beats his sons when they do anything he considers to be wrong including misremember some part of their family tree and he enjoys it, repeatedly hired sex workers to rape his gay son and then would encourage them to beat him and helped beat him with his cane when the son wouldn't have sex with them, raped his wife repeatedly (and their sons could hear it), is so obsessed with his lineage that when Hugh, one son, was accidentally crippled he paid men to follow poor Daniel (the guy who slipped and accidentally shot him) to the continent to murder him and didn't stop until his son told him he would kill himself if Daniel died, he bribed servants so he could keep tabs on Hugh because that title is super important, he then kicked Hugh on his painful, injured leg and drugged him so he could tie him to the bed so that he could lock a lady in the room and force their marriage for the sake of that damn title, and more I'm sure I can't remember. AND he did all this without a trace of remorse.

And probably other fathers I can't remember. What does Julia Quinn say about Edmund? He was the best of men and of fathers. Now, thinking about JQ and how she's written alllll these other fathers, do you think she really meant that Colin was actually horsewhipped? No. She probably thought spanking but make it Regency.

I love her books, but do you think she's deep diving into research? Probably not. I mean, she forgot that she wrote Colin's birthday was in January. At the beginning of 'Just Like Heaven' Colin and Penelope are married and in the middle of the story they aren't even engaged yet. She is not thinking about things that deeply.

They are supposed to be fun and romantic and sometimes humorous and the drama... they are not meant to be analyzed and dissected like you would 'Invisible Man.' They aren't supposed to be all moody and intense-- it's not Dickens. Emotional, yeah of course, they are romances, but not taken so seriously.

But you know, don't come for my Bridgerverse canon babies, or I will cut you because I do take my love for them seriously. (Well, not Turner, you can have Turner.)

@your3fundamentaltruths I am not coming at you about Turner... well maybe a little bit. But you and I and maybe like five other people know the Bridgerverse well enough to get the reference.