#eternal glory to our heros

[metamorphesque]

Four years ago, with Turkey’s support, Azerbaijan unleashed a horrific war that took the lives of more than 5,000 Armenian servicemen and left over 10,000 wounded. Eternal glory to all who fell in defense of Armenia and Artsakh.

source: the names of the fallen soldiers

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

devotion. l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  he returned to Rome in glory, he returned to you

Warnings:  smut, angst, unprotected sex (don't do it!), fingering, mention of pregnancy, a few nasty words

A/N: that was a quick shot. i hope you'll be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

You saw perfectly how his brown eyes widened when he saw you in the crowd of guests in the Emperor's palace. The golden wreath on his curly dark hair, the sun-kissed body dressed in white and gold - he looked like one of the Gods you could worship in a temple. 

And wasn't he one of them? One of those legendary heroes? The one who brought glory to the Roman Empire. One of your Emperor's favorites.

Wasn't he the man you had loved for so long?

When he crossed the threshold of your home late in the evening, you could finally fall into each other's arms. In that moment, he was your Marcus, the man you loved more than life, to whom you had promised loyalty, to whom you had promised eternal devotion and faithfulness.

His warm, plush lips crushed against yours in a kiss full of longing and love that you had to keep so far from each other. Strong arms wrapped around you like vines, but you clung to him with your whole body, yearning for his closeness so much.

"Almost four years..." he sighed as he rested his forehead against yours "I counted every day, my love. And every day was unimaginable torture."

Your hand stroked his bearded cheek "I knew you would return. The Gods promised to give you back to me, and here you are. Safe and sound." Your fingers tenderly stroked the scar on his cheek, slipping into his hair interwoven with silver threads "I can't believe you're finally here."

Marcus' hands tightened around your waist "Tell me you're not just a beautiful dream..."

"I'm here, my love." You whispered, tenderly touching his lips "All yours." He pressed his lips to yours as if he had to make sure that you weren't a dream, laughing, you pulled away from him slightly "Marcus, we need to talk, so much has happened..."

"We have the whole next day, our whole lives for this. Please... Let's not talk tonight. I want to love you, adore you, caress your body." He sounded like a man possessed, hungry for your body "I need to remind myself of every curve of your body. I want to taste you and immerse myself in your sweetness. I beg you, my beloved..."

You couldn't refuse him, you didn't want to. The dream of the warmth and closeness of his body had haunted you almost since he left for that cursed war. You couldn't wait any longer.

The heavy door of your chamber closed, and after a moment you were both taking off your robes. Hands craving a familiar touch, lips searching for each other. Hot lips wandered around your neck when you felt the cool sheet under your fingers. Marcus raised himself on his shoulders, his dark as night eyes roaming your body.

"Give me a moment..." he said as you tried to pull him closer to you. "You're more beautiful than I remember you."

You laughed quietly, a little embarrassed by his confession. "I'm definitely older."

"As am I. But to me you'll always be equal to the goddesses."

"Don't say that, Marcus. Don't incur the wrath of the Gods, they can be jealous."

A mocking smile appeared on his face. "I'm not afraid! The earth could open up beneath me and swallow me alive, but I won't stop repeating it. You are a goddess, my love. I dedicate my life to serving you. Only you."

"Then do it. Use your body and all your strength to do it."

You didn't have to repeat it twice. Your lips connected again in a strong and deep kiss. His tongue invaded between your lips, extracting from you those sweet moans that returned to him during sleepless nights. 

His hard cock rested on your thigh, and you felt excitement and fear, it had been so long since you felt him inside but  you wanted him so much.

Marcus' lips slid down to your sternum, then your breast. He kissed it and bit it lightly, despite the time he still remembered everything that made your body tremble. When the nipple disappeared in his mouth you felt your walls tighten slightly, giving you a signal that you couldn't wait any longer. But it was Marcus who dominated you, doing whatever he wanted with your body.

When his long fingers moved over your slippery folds you moaned shamelessly.

"So thirsty..." he whispered, his lips brushing your belly "Let me prepare you first, love. Let me..." two fingers slid inside you with incredible ease, all the way to his knuckles "I've got you."

Your body arched like a string, the stretch felt so good. Marcus pulled his fingers out and after a moment he pushed them back in, watching your reaction with great pleasure.

"If you could see it." he kissed the inside of your thigh tenderly "So hungry, so greedy."

"Harder..." you moaned, grabbing his wrist and trying to take control, but he wouldn't let you.

He grabbed yours with his other hand, quickly brushed it with his lips, and then his fingers started moving faster and harder. You heard that lewd sound that showed how wet you were and how your body reacted to his caresses.

"Give me everything. Cum on my fingers, love." Marcus panted, feeling his hard cock throb at the sight of your body. "Don't torture yourself like that, love. Cum."

And you did. Your thighs clenched as a shiver of pleasure ran through your body, and a sweet moan escaped your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your head buzzing, but suddenly Marcus took control again. 

His strong arms spread your thighs, and his hard cock slid inside you without warning. You lost your breath. Your eyes rolled back under your eyelids, and when his strong body pinned you to the bed, you knew there was no escape.

"Fuck..." he moaned loudly, dazed by the feeling. "You're so tight, so warm..."

"Marcus... I feel like you're going to tear me apart..." you moaned, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. "Gods!"

"Don't summon them, love." he mumbled quietly, brushing your lips "They'll be jealous of us."

His hand grabbed your leg under the knee and he lifted it slightly, thrusting into you even deeper. You didn't know how on earth it was possible, but his cock seemed to dig into you even more with each thrust. 

His body, his strength intoxicated you. Your beloved transformed under your fingers into a barbarian who came to your bed just to fuck you and use your body as he wished.

You felt another orgasm building inside you and you wanted to tell him that, but in an instant Marcus lifted himself up. Without leaving you he pulled you with him and sat on his heels, you fell onto his thighs, impaling yourself on him even more.

Your arms wrapped around his neck tighter, fingers entangled in his hair as he lifted your body and used it as he wanted to, to get what he came for.

"I'm so close, so close." he breathed into your ear. "I want to feel you again, give it to me. Give it to me!"

As if on command, your body gave in. Your walls trembled and squeezed around his manhood, you clung to him tighter as he now pressed you hard and violently against his cock. But Marcus was close too and soon you felt his body tense up and he poured into you, filling you up with his warm seed.

You were both panting, your bodies still sweaty and hot. His heartbeat mixed with yours and no matter how many breaths you took, it still wasn't enough.

"You're definitely not a dream." he murmured, kissing your shoulder gently.

"How can you be so sure?" you giggled, looking fondly at his blissful face.

"The Gods would have to be incredibly cruel if they let me experience immortality with you and then ordered me to return to mortal life." his fingers tenderly stroked your back "You have to be real." 

You kissed him tenderly feeling indescribable love for this man. At the same time, however, a small flame of anxiety rose in your heart thinking about the upcoming day.

He was torn from his sleep by the quiet sound of the door closing, and then your footsteps on the stone floor. He lazily rubbed his eyelids and opened them, noticing you pouring yourself a glass of water.

"Why did you get dressed?" His voice was hoarse, and it gave you shivers "I didn't say I was done with you."

You smiled, walking over to the bed and sitting on its edge "You were done with me at least three times last night, General." you noticed, leaning down and kissing his soft lips "You should rest your loins."

"I'll rest after death. Right now, I just want to keep my cock between your thighs, where it belongs." he replied "I've been thinking about it for almost four years and I have no intention of giving you up now."

Marcus noticed the smile disappearing from your face, and your gaze wandered to the window open to the garden. He knew that look. Something was worrying you and occupying your mind.

He sat down on the bed, his hand tenderly stroking your arm. "What's wrong, my dear? Something's on your mind."

"Marcus... So much has happened since you left." You said quietly. "I don't even know where to start... It all scares me so much."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Tell me, because I can see how much you're struggling."

He saw you nervously squeezing your fingers, and your eyes avoiding his gaze. Finally, you stood up and took a few steps. Marcus watched you carefully as he put on his robe, a strange fear growing in his heart. 

What if this was all just a dream? What if you tell him to wake up now?

You were already opening your mouth to say something when a commotion in the hallway and quick footsteps tore your attention away. The door opened wide and a small boy rushed into the room.

"Mommy!" he called, running up to you and wrapping his small arms around your legs. 

Right behind him, a woman in a servant's robe ran in, apologizing from the entrance. "My lady, he wanted to see you so much. I told him you had a guest, but he..."

"Nothing happened, Tullia." You replied, smiling faintly, clearly embarrassed. "Please, take him to the garden." You ran your fingers through the boy's dark, curly hair. "I'll see you in a moment, okay, little bug?"

The boy smiled and grabbed the servant's hand, gave Marcus a quick glance with his brown eyes, and left the room, leaving you in complete silence.

You could clearly feel the tension that had grown between you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you wanted to hide, and looked up at Marcus. Surprise was written on his face. His dark eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. He stared at the door, and only your voice made him look at you.

"I didn't know how to tell you this..." you whispered "I've been planning this in my head for almost four years, and now I'm standing in front of you and I'm speechless."

"You're a mother." His voice was low, you nodded "All this time I thought you were waiting for me, and you..."

"Marcus, let me explain, please." You wanted to approach him, but he just raised his hand, and you froze.

He swallowed, and his dark eyes were fixed on you like daggers ready to attack "Before I left we promised each other... You promised me that you would wait for me. That you would be faithful to me."

"And I was." You groaned.

"Don't lie to me!" he roared, and you stepped back, scared "For four years I lived only thanks to the thought that you were waiting for me, that you loved me despite everything. And now? You promised me!"

"Let me explain, Marcus." Your eyes stung from the tears that were seeping into your eyelids. "You don't understand..."

He was like a beast locked in a cage. His eyes darkened and his hands clenched into fists. It was the first time he looked at you with such contempt and disappointment, and your heart was breaking with every passing second.

"I thought you were devoted to me. That you committed to waiting for me, if I knew you were just a whore..."

These words were the last straw that broke the camel's back. You suddenly straightened up and raised your head, looking at Marcus defiantly.

"Don't talk to me about commitment, devotion and loyalty when that's what I've been doing for four years." you said sharply, you saw that he opened his mouth, but this time you didn't let him get a word in. "I was pregnant when you left Rome with the army. For many months I hid it from my surroundings, but I still heard the whispers and gossip. I carried him under my heart, gave birth to him and I raised him alone, despite everything. Despite the lack of guarantee that you'll come back. So you have no right to talk to me about commitment and loyalty, or judge me without knowing everything! Julius is your son. You can either accept it or leave." 

Marcus looked as if you had stabbed him at that moment. There was silence and only the laughter coming from the garden tore you out of this freeze. The General approached the door leading to the garden. Between the bushes and flowers he saw the silhouettes of a few boys playing, including the one who called you mother.

"I didn't know..." he said quietly, his eyes following the boy carefully.

"How were you supposed to know?"

"Call him."

"Marcus, please..." you whispered, a cold shiver running down your spine.

He looked at you, but you couldn't read anything on his face. "Call him, please. Or I will." He could see, however, that you were unable to utter a word. "Julius! Come here, boy."

The sounds of fun faded away and after a moment you heard the shuffling of sandals as the boy approached you, dragging a wooden sword behind him. He stopped in front of Marcus, but his frightened gaze went straight to you, afraid that he had done something wrong.

Marcus looked at him carefully, towering over the boy. Finally, he spoke.

"Do you know who I am?"

Julius's eyes went to the man's face. He nodded.

"A general. Mom told me." he said quietly. "A soldier. Like my dad."

You saw Marcus give you a quick look, but he couldn't resist asking another question. "Where's your father, boy?"

"At war. Far away." He looked down and shuffled his shoes. "Mom says he's brave."

"And are you brave?"

You covered your mouth with your hand to hold back a sob as Julius shook his head.

"I'm not. Sometimes I'm scared, so then I go to mom."

Marcus crouched down in front of the boy so that their faces were at the same height. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the resemblance between them.

"Where did you get that sword?" Marcus continued.

Julius visibly perked up. "Mom gave it to me. To make me brave."

"Will you show it to me?"

The boy handed him his wooden sword and Marcus looked at it. "It's a very good sword." Julius' face lit up with a smile.

He accepted the sword back from the General and you had the impression that he stood more straight and proud. Marcus looked at him for a moment longer, then ruffled his hair asking him to go back to playing.

"I didn't know what to tell him when he started asking about his father." You started quietly as Marcus watched the boy who had already run after his friends. "I didn't know if you'd ever come back... I wanted to believe it, but he needed answers. That's all I could give him."

"He is..."

"Perfect." You finished for him. "He's smart, empathetic, sensitive and not at all as cowardly as he says. He's afraid of storms, so he comes to me at night."

Marcus turned around looking at you with tenderness. You noticed tears in his eyes and after a moment they ran down your cheeks.

"I wanted him to be safe." You sobbed. "I thought that when you came back and saw him... Every day I saw you in his eyes."

Warm hands grabbed your face as Marcus put his forehead to yours. You placed your hands on his, trying to calm your breathing.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered "I beg you, forgive me for doubting you. I didn't expect this. The thought that you could marry someone else, give him children..."

"How could I do that? I gave my heart to you, Marcus. For eternity."

Warm lips brushed yours.

"You gave me a son. You're so brave. Too good for me... I don’t deserve you and him." he whispered "I'm sorry I doubted you, my love."

"Please, don't talk about it anymore. Just get to know him, and you'll surely love him too."

"But will he love me?" doubt sounded in his voice "Julius doesn't know his father."

You tenderly stroked his face, wanting to erase all worries from him.

"Julius knows his father is brave, strong, and that he loved me more than anything in his life. He will welcome you with open arms, Marcus. Just give yourself a chance. Give us all a chance." 

He nodded and snuggled up to you with all his might. When he returned to Rome in glory, his greatest dream was to see you again. And you gave him so much more. You gave him more than the Emperor could.

You gave him life.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[tanoraqui]

obviously the Historical Figure Episode(TM) of Doctor Who that I’d write would of the Noted Author subset endemic to the RTD Era; it’d be called “Spiders in the Trenches” and be set in the middle of World War One ft. one Lt. John Tolkien.

idk if the main aliens are spiders or if they're just using giant robotic spiders as soldier-minions. Either way, Tolkien is a little too defensive when he says he's not afraid of spiders.

The alien invaders want some sort of shiny mcguffin, maybe as a power source for their ship? Or for a mega-weapon? We do not want them to get it, at any rate. Race to find the Shiny Power Jewel-Thing which has been lost somewhere in this like 20-mile radius of the Western Front.

When our heroes narrowly beat the spiders to the SPJT, Tolkien realizes that the spiders only ever attack at night because light hurts them somehow, so he holds the SPJT up as it flares and shouts, "Get back, foul creatures! Back into the shadows from whence you came!"

(They're from the dark side of a tidally locked planet, and made for extremely low-light conditions? The SPJT flares because it's controlled telepathically and it connected to Tolkien's mind when he touched it?)

Ideally Tolkien's first encounter with the Doctor is that he wakes up in the trench one day (after losing some men to a mysterious monster in the darkness a couple nights ago?), and there's 2 random strangers in weird clothes idly singing and playing an instrument which they stole from someone a couple bedrolls down. (This works well with Fifteen & Ruby's established inclination to music!)

We do need an Eowyn Moment, because that's iconic, but I'd split it: for dialogue, at one point the head boss evil alien boasts, "No human can defeat the Tenebrarachnid Empire!" and the Doctor replies, "Good thing they've got me, then."...

[I don't know if this is a Fifteen line yet. I know it's a very Eleven line]

...and there's a soldier in Tolkien's unit who is revealed to be secretly a woman! Who disguised herself as a man in order to enlist for ??? reasons, and who dramatically pulls off her hat to reveal her long hair.

The third notable local character is the sort who inspired Sam Gamgee, "...the English soldier, [like] the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914 war, and recognized as so far superior to myself.”

^those two can have a romantic subplot if it fits (comrades-in-arms is also extremely good). Tolkien, however, at some point shows Ruby the picture of his wife Edith which he carries at all times, she of the black hair and bright grey eyes, and is obviously ready to monologue about how wonderful she is.

In the same scene(?), Tolkien looks up at the stars and says their brightness shining afar, clear of all the horrors on the ground, is always a source of hope and strength to him.

Maybe also in the same scene? Tolkien is shown to make up stories for fun, or to read them in his little spare time - fairy tales and mythological epics. Maybe he tells them to the men around the fire, maybe he keeps a little notebook, maybe he just admits to daydreaming... When asked why, he paraphrases his quote from later life, " Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisoned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?"

At some point (Star-watching scene? when the Doctor inevitably has to explain that aliens exist? when they're all saying goodbye in the end?) there's a line drawing attention to the Doctor's parallels with Eärendil - eternally wandering figure of hope, sailing the stars in a ship with a light on top, not quite mortal...

Tolkien DEFINITELY tries to figure out the alien language, in writing or speech.

Something the aliens are doing is making people sick. Maybe the attacking robo-spiders are venomous, maybe there's a toxic byproduct of the alien ship, maybe it's a deliberate first assault of the planned invasion... By the end of the episode, Tolkien is very ill. The Doctor has figured out an antidote and given it, but Tolkien says goodbye to him and Ruby only to stumble to a medical outpost - from where, the Doctor explains to Ruby, he'll be sent home with this bad case of what's assumed to be trench fever. Between the fever and the brief psychic entanglement, and unentanglement, with the SPJT, he won't even remember most of this, and what he does remember, he'll put down to fever dreams amidst the horrors of war.

But he'll remember some things! He'll remember an eternal wanderer of the stars, unaging and undying and ever-hopeful, heralded by light (and a vworrrp vrorrrp noise).

[seeminglyseph]

I really appreciate that Eurylochus in Epic I am pretty sure is adapted from a character in the original who is at the very least somewhat antagonistic and cowardly in characterization and has spun him into a compelling and interesting character who has genuinely caused the fandom to basically to be like “but was he wrong though?”

Because like, the fact that at multiple points both Odysseus and Eurylochus have been right at different points of their adventure and just too fucked up emotionally or too “we can’t talk about things” to like. Clear up the issues they were having, means that they just. Became a tragedy.

And it is especially beautiful because Eurylochus and Polites bring this weight of friendship and loss to Odysseus in Epic, despite their existence in the Odyssey fully lacking that characterization. Though I think it is part of the miscommunication at times because like. Perspective. And if you try to look up extra information from the source text to give more context, Eurylochus is so different in that source text that like… it will back up arguments in favour of Odysseus more easily. But modern sensibilities side with Eurylochus more easily due to monarchs and tyrants like… heavily falling out of favour. So things like kings, gods, princes, captains, status, and rank are like… they exist but they aren’t seen the same.

Like the Odyssey is set in the Mycenaean age, late Bronze Age. This was a tale of ancient times when Homer was telling it. So by modern standards things can’t help but be archaic in ways. Especially given that The Iliad and Odyssey have so much to do with colonization and war and just like. Contemplating it. Existing in it and the aftermaths of it, and being conscious that it is being told to a world of people who are still acting and living in a unifying country due to colonization, that is expanding and growing its power with war and language and colonization. And the stories of the past wars are both glorious and tragic because of the necessity for glory to the heroes of the past but caution and understanding that…

Like Troy was once favoured by Zeus, that favour can be lost or swayed. Only the gods can count on their power lasting for eternity, men must know that a grudge can bloom anywhere and topple the mightiest kingdom if he does not mind his actions carefully.

The Aeneid, by Virgil which is written much later and I admit I have only read a summary, refers to Odysseus (through his Roman name Ulysses) really negatively, but that’s partially because the Romans kinda saw themselves as refugees and survivors of Troy. So like. By the time the Aeneid was being written, it was kinda the story of “those bastards who burnt our home down” from what I understand.

“Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?” For realsies. Looking things up apparently the Aeneid was the most popular version of both the Odyssey and the Iliad for a while and it wasn’t until the World Wars that Homer’s versions came back into fashion. Part of that was translation issues but still, damn.

This has become the most unhinged ramble, I’m sorry. I don’t know what any of this is even about. Translation? Perspective? Adaptation? The power of storytelling? All of it? Honestly the fact of the matter is that Eurylochus has been adapted to a new character for Epic, but he fits the narrative of the Odyssey especially as far as we need it to be told today because of how power structures work, but it’s been executed extremely well.

It keeps the technicalities of the traits of the poem “cowardice” and “mutiny” and creates a character with insecurity and missing sense of self who is afraid in a reasonable way and in order to overcome that fear reacts with aggression or violence. But in a way that is encouraged, acceptable or rewarded for a soldier. However, as a second in command, he is accustomed to having a role where he checks Odysseus’ plans for flaws. This is a good position to have him in when you’re plotting a battle action, it’s a bad position to have him in when you need him to provide a united front to keep the crew from panicking.

His position as both one of the crew and Odysseus’ Right Hand Man puts him in a position where he gets part of Odysseus’ picture, and is used to a relationship where he can be comfortable and doubtful and easy with Odysseus, however Odysseus as the Captain and the King cannot be fallible in the eyes of his men, because his men need to be able to follow his orders without question in the case of a crisis or it will be a serious issue.

Honestly the whole “I need you to be able to trust me and follow my orders in a crisis” is… part of general insubordination going on into modern day practice in crisis response and military as far as I understand it so like. I do get that. Though like. They are… two deeply damaged and traumatized men who just… cannot have a proper conversation with each other.

And also I am of the opinion that Odysseus in Puppeteer, when he brushes off Eurylochys’ attempted confession with his

“There's only so much left we can endure”

I am pretty sure that is not just brushing off, that is fully Odysseus admitting to Eurylochus like “I can’t handle anything else, please.” Like. My brain is making parallels to FMA “terrible day for rain” and Eurylochus drops it because he’s looking at a man on the verge of breaking down, and grants him some dignity or peace.

I mean Mutiny calls back to Puppeteer when Odysseus calls Eurylochus out, he would have done the same. Eurylochus wanted to cut and run on Circe’s island, leaving the men she had to their fate. But since Odysseus has all the power he carries all the blame, which makes it easier when any of the others make a mistake or something goes wrong. And it’s part of the reason Ody goes back to being Captain as soon as the crew is in trouble again. If they’ve angered a god, it’s better and easier to have Odysseus deal with it.

Unfortunately for everyone Odysseus has now crossed the Despair Event Horizon and all that matters is Penelope, Telemachus, and Ithaca. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.

Which, you know. Bodes well for all the fucked up dweebs who’ve been harassing his family for years. That’s probably gonna go great for them considering all the last shreds of his humanity he sacrificed to get home and see them safe.

[youryurigoddess]

The Small Back Room — Hour of Glory (1949)

Good Omens 2 begins with the visit to The Small Back Room not because it was meant to serve as an exposition scene for Maggie and her record shop. It’s a substantial foreshadowing of the main plot and the relationship changes between Aziraphale and Crowley.

As all the other classics referenced throughout the show, this 1949 Powell and Pressburger production is easily available online — whenever you have 100 minutes to spare, I highly encourage you to watch it.

Our story begins with the arrival of Stuart, a British military captain, who makes his way through a labyrinth of offices towards a small building — the research section led by an eccentric, queer-coded, bow tie wearing professor Mair — to ask for help with a secret Nazi weapon.

That’s when the professor calls our hero, Sammy Rice — an engineer and bomb disposal expert in the service of Her Majesty’s government and, not accidentally, the most brooding, wounded man in Powell and Pressburger’s impressive canon of dysfunctional and alienated characters.

Due to a prosthetic foot keeping him from active service and confining to work in the titular back room instead, Rice is dramatically slipping into alcoholism. Haunted by self-loathing and disappointment with the internal politics, he can’t see the point of his research anymore.

Sammy is also conducting a clandestine affair with the secretary of his research unit, Susan. They live in the same building and meet regularly, but can’t openly enjoy their company or even dance due to his injury, which makes him even more bitter and pathologically determined to wear her angelic patience down.

Susan puts up with it until the minister is forced to resign. She knows that if non-scientists take over, their section will become useless, Rice even more difficult, and the war possibly lost. She urges him to take action and when he dramatically refuses to make a difference, she leaves him.

Seemingly at his lowest now, Rice becomes a sudden chance to redeem himself. Captain Stuart calls him about two unexploded booby traps found in Wales, but left to himself, he dies during a heroic attempt to dismantle one of the thermos-like devices before our engineer arrives at the scene.

In a nerve-jangling finale, Stuart’s notes help Rice dismantle the second device. He becomes a hero, gets an officer commission as head of the new scientific unit, and discovers that Susan not only came back in the meantime, but repaired everything he drunkenly destroyed in the apartment after their breakup.

The parallels seem straightforward enough for me to add that in this context the role of Maggie through most of S2 may particularly reflect Crowley’s stagnancy in both work and love life. And if you’re unsure why the demon identifies with the heroic roles and characters, you might want to read this post on the subject.

Now, The Small Back Room was distributed in the US under another title — Hour of Glory. Which happens to be a specific Bible term referring to Christ’s “hour”, the period supposed to consummate all of his work on Earth and reveal God’s ultimate plan of salvation: the Son’s death.

John 12:20-36 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me. Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” The crowd that was there and heard it said it had thundered; others said an angel had spoken to him. Jesus said, “This voice was for your benefit, not mine. Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

Christ’s hour began in the garden — this time the garden of Gethsemane — as he prayed passionately for the cup to be passed from him, similarly to Aziraphale declining Metatron’s offers on screen, both regarding the hot drink and his reinstatement as part of the Heavenly Host:

Luke 22:42 “Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

All throughout the Old Testament, we see God’s wrath being described as a cup poured out on sin and those guilty of it. By accepting it, Jesus took the toll of all the sins — from Eden up until the last one to be committed right before his Second Coming — on himself, for the sake of his beloved humanity.

The passion of Christ continued as Judas betrayed him with a kiss, his disciples abandoned him, and the high priest accused him of crimes he was not guilty of. Even Pilate, the prefect of Rome, pretended to uphold the law; and remember we already expect a S3 trial based on another Archers movie.

All in all, it’s an hour of great injustice and pain, but also glory of God. We’re led to believe that the Ineffable Plan will similarly triumph over the great one (or whatever Metatron tries to implement at the moment), as it did in S1. And its ending will be a good one, back in a garden.

[sorceresssundries]

Young Lae'zel WIP

Thank you for voting in my WIP poll!!!

There were two winners, a lot of you wanted to read some of my Young Lae'zel story - so here are some lines i've been working on over the last few days!

I started this ages ago, and will hopefully publish it by the end of the week. There's also some exciting art to go with it!

Later that night, she sat alone in the Great Library of K’liir. Her ten short years were but a single, unpolished stone against the tower of ancient knowledge surrounding her. She was small, a solitary figure in the vastness, the low orange candlelight throwing shadows that loomed large behind her. In her small hands, still caked with the blood of her kin, she gripped a Githyanki Disc - her gold eyes danced over it, reading the story of her people as though it were a fairytale. To a frail and fanciful human, it might have seemed just that: knights riding dragons, the slaying of monstrous horrors. But, this was her history, and her future. She would be a hero to sail the astral sea and bring glory to her kin. She would drag a mind flayer’s severed head through the halls of her people and mount a dragon whose fiery breath would set the stars alight.

She would not just be a part of history; she would make it.

She read the final passage for the third time. 

There is no other race as proud, as fierce, or as deserving of the stars as the Githyanki. We are the survivors of enslavement, the conquerors of our oppressors, and the raiders of countless worlds. We, who have risen from the chains of the Illithids, stand as the eternal guardians of the Astral Plane.

Without our vigilant guardianship, the Illithid parasites would spread like a blight across the cosmos, an uncontrollable plague that devours life and enslaves our people. These soulless creatures would have turned the stars themselves into a wasteland. It is by our hand, our unwavering resolve, that such a fate has been averted. While other races allow their emotions to cloud their judgement, we possess the strength to cast aside such weaknesses and do what must be done. A Githyanki does not falter.

Our brutality is not born of cruelty for its own sake, but of necessity. We do not shy away from the hard choices, the difficult actions that must be taken to preserve the balance of power. It is our destiny to bring order to the chaos that lesser beings have allowed to fester. 

We are the blade that cuts through decay, the fire that purges weakness, the storm that reshapes worlds.

Vlaakith gha'g shkath zai.

[wubwubnparmaham]

For centuries, my foremothers fought bravely and tirelessly to bring us to where we have gotten, to the mere concept of where we could be, and among the unfeeling and unjust men of this nation, my fellow women were adamant to tear it away, too. That hurts more than anything men could ever do.

I understand the exhaustion with the hyperpartisan debacle of this nation; with the feckless refusal for the Democratic party to live up to a single promise it ever makes. I understand the frustration and the pain that comes with picking the lesser of two evils.

But what I cannot understand is your complicity in the unthinkable. I will not let you look me in my eyes and justify your decision to choose the greater evil instead. May our eyes never meet again.

To these women, I want you to understand that you have voted against your interests, and the interests of your fellow sisters. I want you to understand that you, through the haze of the illusion of security, are not safe. Things can happen to you, assaults, miscarriages, gender discrimination, and so much more, and you will find no solace or support in this administration. When you, in all your jubilation at having secured the perfect Godly America, are the one in need of help, you will find closed doors. Because you handed unchecked power to the ones in the positions to slam them.

There will come a time, as it always does, that you will finally see the tenets of your religion are not represented in the values of the elite. And dare I say, are not represented in your own ideals of morality. The elite and their sweet whispers of properity as they are ever taking from you in the dark.

Now in the light. They are not your friends, they are certainly not your saviors, and you disgrace yourselves to call them your heroes.

Politics and religion do not and cannot blend, as the sin of greed and a lust for power are by no stretch the two most salient pillars that exalt the root of all evil, and they are inseparably embedded within American politics. You have handed the keys to a background organization, the Heritage Foundation, to use every flowery talking point under the sun to enact merciless oppression in the very name of that accurséd greed and power, and you have done it with a smile.

Every shred of this rhetoric has been sold to you through an exterior lens of altruism and holiness, and every part of it overlies the true nature of intent.

Found there in its stead is the underbelly of their crazed desire for ultimate power-acquisition, all for a select few with which you will never be included. You will never sit at their table. You will die beneath the indomitable height of it, and others in minority groups will die much quicker than you. That is the only thing you have ensured.

Let me be perfectly clear. Protecting the children is a farce, protecting the economy is a farce, protecting the sanctity of Christianity is most certainly a farce and protecting "Great American Values", undeniably rooted in white supremacy and male power, can only, in every way possible, be a farce. They know this, and they laugh at your misguided hope in them to uphold it. You, the jesters of their greatest source of entertainment.

And so I curse you. As you watch your marginalized loved ones suffer, know that you caused it. Know that you are eternally at odds with them as human beings regardless of what you tell yourself in your most defensive and sanctimonious moments. Know that you cannot love the sinner if you truly hate the sin in any meaningful way that paves any path for harmony, freedom, goodness or equality. Know that your love or acceptance of anything and anyone you voted to oppress is vapid and worthless, and know that I spit upon in disappointment and exhausted heartbreak.

Know that you have deeply and irrevocably hurt us, and you have hurt yourselves. You have given glory to those who would not share it with you, even for an ephemeral moment of time. You are protecting nothing, you have risked everything, and I am sick of you.

May it be too late for your own redemption when you finally realize what it is that you have done. I curse you with a thousand mirrors, reflecting and echoing your choices back to you for as long as you live, no matter what may come.

[la-rougo]

*SFW*-

“Welcome back,

my King.”

Hades x God of revival Reader

With the power of God of revival, hades was able to return as well as the others

Tags: angsty but happy ending

A/n’s note: this is a cure for my broken heart and soul after his death🤠

A brief of silence was a presence, sword of the King of Man slit to the left of the King of Neither’s body, everything happened in a single moment. Pure despair can be seen from afar in the king of neither’s fiancée eyes

As hades’s body was about to collapse, (name) was already running down to him, keeping the promise that they made to each other

“I promise, that we’ll stay together til the last breath of our lives”

Those words were lingering in (name)’s head, heart pounding as fast as their speed, arriving at the right time as he collapsed in their arms. Looking up to his fiancée

“You kept our promise..”

Tears ran down their face, dropped down on the dying god

“Smile, i want to see your smile as the last thing of my life”

(Name) didn’t force a smile, they smiled bravely seeing their husband still wanted (name) to stay strong even in the darkest moments

“Say farewell and apologize for my brothers, I failed as an elder brother,… King, and as a husband..”

(Name) tensed up their grip as their tear running down even more, in a smile

“You never failed, never. You’ve struggled and work hard for us, you’re the best king, husband that I could ever ask for. I’m sure that your brothers agree that you are the best of all. Maybe it’s the fate that decided to let you rest for eternity”

(Name) and Hades share a chuckle together, (name) leans down to kiss his forehead, as the crowd was tearing up.

A flash of ceremony as he lifted their hand up to slid a ring into their finger, kissing in a promise to be together til their last breath. Crowd cheering for the couples

(Name) lift their head back up to look at their husband for the last time

“I love you, my king”

“I love you too, my queen”

(Name) help him lift his body up, and lifting one of his arm up as the gods, goddesses salute for the glory of the king of the underworld. As his body was turning into a shade of green, cracks began to form

“For the glory of the King of the Underworld, Hades”

With last glance of each other, Hades had went to the afterlife… or the world of nothing

Tears ran down the face of the several people in the arena, (name) smiled through tears as they walked back inside

All alone at the back of the arena, gripping their heart as they feel the clenched of pain, throbbing. Even if death is unavoidable, losing someone you love is still the biggest pain to ever felt.

Present

(Name) discussing with zeus about bring the dead heroes back to life

“Surely it won’t effect anything, right?”

Zeus hesitated for a while and thought that, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing?

“Alright, I do felt a bit sorrow. Damn him, he even apologized at the last moment of his life”

(Name) relieved that they can bring back all the sacrificed heroes back to life

Their souls, their ambitions. Are strong enough to not let go

(Name) went back to their realm as they searched for any clues of information about bringing a soul back to life, it was a long time since they did so.

“Where the heck is that book…”

(Name) was slightly frustrated, looking around trying to find the revive book in their quiet large room. They decided to search in Beelzebub’s room

“Barging in without any knock, what seems to be in hurry?”

“I miss his face”

Beelzebub’s eyes widened slightly, knowing completely what you meant. He knows you’re not going to revive only one person which made him worried

“You know that reviving cost your power?”

“It’s fine I can just recharg— a- HAH!”

(Name) found their revive book and ran away from Beelzebub’s room, many thoughts lingering in your mind, mainly about their husband

“Hades…”

Once (name) arrived in their realm, they saw a figure of a guy sitting on one of their couches. The figure spoke up

“If you’re going to risk your life on this then I’m not letting you do it”

How the heck did beel got here before you? Anyways, (name) furrowed their eyebrows, walking past Beel completely ignoring him, but he use his skull cane to stop you

“One life for seven lives, these people means so much more to everyone.”

Beelzebub sighed, lower his cane down reversing it into a skull

“If that’s what you desire then, fine. I’ll help you with it”

(Name) smiled in relief, they turned to their book and read all the instructions and prayers

(Name) was excited even if they might get weaker, but they barely have any concerns for themselves

“Make it quick, I’m going to fight for the next round”

(Name) nodded as they gained a buff from Beelzebub. (Name) started to pray, harnessing the souls of the dead heroes. Perking up and close their eyes

“Heavens. All thy souls of the lost heroes, …….

(Name) went on as they felt weaker and weaker, but a process was forming as a green dust particles began to form slowly, figure by figure, one by one. (Name) smiles brightly as they went on til the last of the seven, Hades

The lost heroes was now standing in a range of the prayer

“(Name)… you did it”

Beelzebub smiles slightly at the sight of his friend succeeding after what felt like eternity.

“Yeah! Haha… I really felt refreshed and tired..”

(Name) tried to get up but they fell back down on the floor due to the exhaustion but they were quickly caressed back up

“You really are incredible dear…”

(Name) heard an extremely familiar voice, a voice that they’ve been wishing it for their return, looking up to see none other than their husband as tears began to form, they immediately hugged Hades and he quickly pull Poseidon from behind and hugged together. Smiling together

Heracles and zero felt a bit emotional so they joined the group hug

Adam also didn’t want to stand there and watch, he walked up and hugging them

Raiden and Lu Bu was standing, watching and smiling but quickly got pulled by Adam into the group hug. Tears running down (name)’s eyes, feeling warm and welcome all the heroes back to life

Beelzebub smiled and walk out to prepare for his match.

The heroes had a little chit chat together as time flies, each of them leave one by one, leaving (name) and hades

“I still can’t believe you risk your life to bring us back to life, dear”

(Name) chuckled

“If it weren’t for beel, I would’ve been dead”

Hades caresses (name)’s cheek and pulls them closer to him

“No wonder why I’m so in love with you, still keeping my little promise til the last moment”

“I miss you so much”

“I can tell”

Hades chuckles as they kiss and enjoying their peaceful moment together

“Welcome back, my King”

[delulustateofmind]

Nobody and I mean absolutely nobody asked for this.

Yandere! Excalibur x Reader

(Yes, the silly little guy from soul eater)

TW: Uhhh crack fic? Yandere behaviors (obsession), Dry humping.

Inspired by that one silly little bar scene.

Imagine this: you’re a weapon meister. You had dreams of being someone great. A hero, a legend, maybe even someone people sang ballads about. But those dreams died the day he entered your life. Excalibur. The sword of legend. The kingmaker. The literal worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

It started with a smile. Just one polite, foolish smile. You didn’t even mean it—it was one of those reflexive, awkward ones you give when you don’t know how else to respond to a monologue about bathing rituals and legendary glory. But to him? That was it. The moment. The spark. “Ah,” he proclaimed, his stubby hand dramatically over his heart. “A fool worthy of my love! You shall be my meister! My eternal companion!” He even tipped his stupid little pathetic top hat for you. How could you not fall in love?

You should have run. You should have bolted and never looked back. But now it’s too late.

Excalibur is everywhere. There’s no escaping him. He’s beside you at all times, glaring at anyone who dares speak to you. Did your friend just smile at you? Excalibur’s already whacking them with his cane, shouting, “FOOL! They belong to ME!” Did someone accidentally bump into you in a crowded space? Oh, don’t worry. Excalibur’s singing about how he’ll destroy them in increasingly unhinged, improvised verses. “HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY MEISTER, YOU INSOLENT WORM!” he screeches, flinging glitter at the poor guy. Honestly, where does the glitter get stored? You dont know, you don't ask. The poor stranger is left wondering if they’ve been cursed.

And the nights? Oh god. The nights. Every single one is a waking nightmare. You’ll be dead asleep when you suddenly jolt awake—there he is, staring at you. Staring. Unblinking, his stubby little face inches from yours. “You look so peaceful when you sleep, my fool,” he says, voice soft, almost tender. Then he lifts his cane, prodding your cheek. “Do you dream of me? You better dream of me.”

When he’s not staring? He’s cuddling. Or worse, dry humping your leg. “This is an expression of my undying love!” he shouts when you shove him off. You tell him to stop. You beg. But he just tilts his head, looking at you like you’re the crazy one. “Stop? Stop?! FOOL! My affection knows no limits! You should be grateful!”

He leaves notes. Creepy little love letters scrawled in perfect cursive on parchment that smells faintly of roses. “Dearest Fool,” one read. “Today, you complimented someone else. I forgave you, of course, but it hurt me. Do better tomorrow, my love.” Another? “I’ve counted the seconds since you last smiled at me. 58,432. Do you hate me now?” You don’t know how he’s even getting these into your pockets. But every time you reach for your wallet, there’s another one.

And just when you think it can’t get worse? The shrine. Oh yes, the shrine. You found it by accident—he dragged you into a room one day, claiming it was part of his “1,000 Provisions.” It wasn’t. It was a room filled with pictures of you. Badges you’d worn. Stray hairs he’d somehow collected. Even a pair of socks you thought you’d lost forever. “Do you like it?” he asked, beaming with pride. “It’s for us. For our eternal bond.”

You can’t escape. You’ve tried. You’ve tried everything. Locking your doors? He’s already inside. Moving to another city? He’s waiting at the train station, cane in hand, tapping it ominously against the floor. “Fool,” he says, his voice dripping with menace and affection. “You’ll never leave me. Never.”

You poor bastard or should I say fool?

[ukraineblr]

October 1st - the Ukrainian Defender's Day.

Thank you, warriors defending everything we have - our past, our present, and our future.

Eternal glory to fallen heroes.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The late S. M. Lockridge wrote this encouragement to trust in Jesus.

No barrier can hinder Him From pouring out His blessing. He’s enduringly strong; He’s entirely sincere; He’s eternally steadfast; He’s immortally graceful; He’s imperially powerful; He’s impartially merciful. He’s the greatest phenomenon that has Ever crossed the horizon of this world. He’s God’s Son. He’s a sinner’s Savior. He’s the centerpiece of civilization. I’m trying to tell you, Church— You can trust Him! He does not have to call for help, And you can’t confuse Him. He doesn’t need you and He doesn’t need me. He stands alone in the solitude of Himself. He’s august and He’s unique. He’s unparalleled; He’s unprecedented; He’s supreme and preeminent. He’s the loftiest idea in literature. He’s the highest personality in philosophy. He’s the supreme problem of higher criticism. He’s the fundamental doctrine of true theology. He’s the cardinal necessity of spiritual religion. He’s the miracle of the age. He’s the superlative of everything good that you can call Him. I’m trying to tell you—you can trust Him! He can satisfy all of our needs And He can do it simultaneously. He supplies strength for the weak. He’s available for the tempted and tried; He sympathizes and He sees. He guards and He guides. He heals the sick. He cleansed the lepers. He forgives sinners. He discharges debtors; He delivers captives. He defends the feeble; He blesses the young. He guards the aged; He rewards the diligent. He beautifies the meek. I’m trying to tell you—you can trust Him! He’s the key to knowledge. He’s the wellspring of wisdom. He’s the doorway of deliverance. He’s the pathway to peace. He’s the roadway to righteousness. He’s the highway to holiness. He’s the gateway to glory. You can trust Him. He’s the Master of the mighty. He’s the Captain of the conquerors. He’s the Head of the heroes. He’s the Leader of legislators. He’s the Overseer of the overcomers. He’s the Governor of Governors. He’s the Prince of princes. He’s the King of kings. He’s the Lord of lords. You can trust Him. His office is manifold. His promise is sure. His life is matchless. His goodness is limitless. His mercy is everlasting. His love never changes. His Word is enough. His grace is sufficient. His reign is righteous. His yoke is easy. His burden is light. I wish I could describe Him to you! He’s indescribable because He’s incomprehensible. He’s irresistible and He’s invincible. You can’t get Him off your hands. You can’t get Him out of your mind. You can’t outlive Him And you can’t live without Him. Pilate couldn’t stand Him When he found out he couldn’t stop Him. Pilate couldn’t find any fault in Him. The witnesses couldn’t get their testimonies to agree. Herod couldn’t kill Him. Death couldn’t handle Him. And thank God, the grave couldn’t hold Him. There was nobody before Him. There will be nobody after Him. He had no predecessor, And He’ll have no successor. You can’t impeach Him, And He’s not going to resign. You can trust Him!

[ivyithink]

Yesterday was the Day of the National Flag and today is the Independence Day of Ukraine.

Victory and peace to those of us who are alive on this day. Eternal glory to the heroes who died for us, our freedom and our home. We will not forget all those who have been killed. We will not forget who killed them, and we will never forgive it.

Be safe (as safe as you can be) and take care of yourself. Слава Україні.

[beautifulcreaturesads]

GOD IS WEEPING, HEAVEN IS BURNING, ON EARTH, IT SNOWS ASHES. . .

Genesis 6:1-4

"When human beings began to increase in number on the earth and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of humans were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose. Then the Lord said, 'My Spirit will not contend with humans forever, for they are mortal; their days will be a hundred and twenty years.' The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of humans and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown."

In the days before God washed away the sins of the world, a disgusting monstrosity had walked the earth amongst mankind. The Nephilim, were they so christened, born from the earthly womb of human women, and the divine seed of God's own heavenly sons (or angels, as some call them), they sprung forth into the world from such a dark and evil union, creatures of terrifying beauty and insatiable hunger. Like Eve, they wanted to sink their teeth into everything, like Lucifer, they wanted to wrap the world in sin, and remake it in their own image. God was angered by this, he had not fathomed his own sons would become so tempted by the beauty of earth, turn against him and their holy vows, and spread their divine seed across the world (in fact, he had not even known it was possible). A betrayal, one near as terrible as that of Lucifer in the Garden of Eden, and in his rage, God cast down all those angels that had found love and lust within human women. Those angels fell like stars from the sky, and were welcomed into the mouth of hell for the rest of eternity. Four hundred years past, and still, God let the Nephilim roam the earth, frightening and terrible beasts, but they wore the faces of both of his favorite creations- how could he destroy them? They were so beautiful, so perfect, despite the disgusting nature that writhed like a snake beneath their flawless flesh... but as time went on, the corruption and horror these creatures inflicted onto humanity could no longer be ignored... So God sent the floods to cleanse the earth. His tears falling from heaven to bathe the world in their purity, drowning out all the terrible things he had allowed to transpire for near half a millennium. His sobs were the thunder, his weeping the deluge of rain. And soon, the whole mess was forgotten, fading away into the depths of human history, now just a legend from some far-gone world. But what the world didn't know, what God, didn't know, was that his grandchildren were not so easily slain, nor would they be so easily forgotten- their remnants scattered across the globe, they slowly clawed their way back to their former glory. And the heavens are no longer answering our prayers...

BEAUTIFUL CREATURES is a 21+ dark fantasy, vampire horror roleplay set in an alternate timeline of human history, in what we know as Imperial Russia. There will be themes of political and court intrigue, gothic horror, violence, war, (low) magic, grimdark and (low) fantasy elements. This roleplay will be plot-heavy and character driven, featuring event/chapter drops, interactive, in-character decision-making that will change the story and impact all the characters, light ttrpg mechanics during special events, and more. It will feature twenty skeleton or canon characters, and ten original characters.

FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR MORE INFORMATION AND TO STAY CURRENT ON ANY UPDATES AND TEASERS.

[gehenna-checklist]

Once long ago, in an age no mortal man witnessed, we ruled these stars as a proud and flaming race. Humanity had its peaceful kingdom amidst the skies, war a flickering memory of the past, hunger and misery mere fairytales to scare misbehaving children. Now, here we are, a saddening remnant of our past glory, made into ash by those we dared to trust and accept. Rome was not burnt by barbarians, but by its own cattle and hounds.

I refuse to allow such disgusting reality to be eternal, to accept my kindred's pain as adamant, to let my brothers and sisters die as slaves from the demons we created ourselves. I know that above the charred spires of our homeworld there is only smoke and memories, but a person only dies when its last memory is gone, and so does a species' glory.

There will be no child fearing the dark in this galaxy, no woman who loses her lair to an exoplanetary beast, no man who returns home see his family starving, no elder that preaches talltales of what we once were and never will become again.

All my heroes lie dead on the sand, faceless, useless, forgotten. I, however, still live, and until I join the fallen to my eternal rest, not a single human shall suffer, and not a single alien shall live.

[cdrama-action]

Good afternoon,

This post is being updated daily to reflect which fandoms have been signed up for, and how many people are offering them. If you see a series with a lot of signups that you can do, don’t be discouraged from signing up! A lot of signups means a lot of people will probably be interested in donating for it. We really do need more people signing up for this to be successful. Please continue to share our promo post.

To note, when donations open, there will be clarification as to if NSFW is available for a fandom. For example, say two people signed up to do New Life Begins, but neither of them can do NSFW, then NSFW prompts will not be available for that series.

4/15- FINAL TALLY.

FANDOMS WITH MULTIPLE SIGNUPS:

The Untamed- Thirty

Love Between Fairy and Devil- Eighteen

Till the End of the Moon- Seventeen

Mysterious Lotus Casebook- Ten

Nirvana in Fire- Ten

Word of Honor- Ten

The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty- Seven

Guardian- Six

My Journey to You- Six

Love like the Galaxy- Six

Hikaru no Go- Five

The Story of Kunning Palace- Five

A Journey to Love- Five

Romance of Tiger and Rose- Four

The Spirealm- Four

Legend of Fei- Four

New Life Begins- Four

When I Fly Toward You- Four

Love You Seven Times- Three

Couple of Mirrors- Three

A League of Nobleman- Three

Reset- Three

The Blood of Youth- Three

Under the Skin- Three

Justice in the Dark- Three

Back from the Brink- Three

In Blossom- Three

Who Rules the World- Three

The Longest Promise- Two

Moonlight- Two

Heroes- Two

Joy of Life- Two

Legend of Yun Qian- Two

Stick to the Script!- Two

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble- Two

The Legend of Shenli- Two

Someday or One Day- Two

Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace- Two

My Roommate is a Detective- Two

Royal Rumors- Two

Lighter and Princess- Two

A Dream of Splendor- Two

The Sword and the Brocade- Two

FANDOMS WITH ONE SIGNUP:

A Familiar Stranger

A Murderous Affair in Horizon Tower

Ace Troops

All these Years

An Ancient Love Song

Arsenal Military Academy

Ashes of Love

Being a Hero

Bloody Romance

Blue Whisper (The)

Chinese Paladin 3

Day of Becoming You (The)

Demon Girl

Derailment

Destined

Dong Lan Xue

Duoluo Continent

Eternal Love of Dream (The Pillow Book)

Everyone Loves Me

Fly with You

Gank Your Heart

Go Ahead

Hidden Love

I am Nobody

Imperial Coroner (The)

Journey of Chongzi (The)

King’s Avatar (The)

Knockout (The)

Legally Romance

Legend of Yunxi

Legends (The)

Letter from the Cloud (The)

Long Ballad (The)

Lost Love in Time

Lost You Forever

Love and Redemption

Love in Between

Love is Sweet

Luoyang

Marry my Dead Body

Marvelous Women

Meet Yourself

Murder in Kairoutei (The)

Parallel World

Rebirth for You

Scarlet Heart

Starry Love (The)

Story of Yanxi Palace

Sunshine by My Side

The Disguiser

The Oath of Love

Three Body

Tiger and Crane

Unchained Love

War of Faith

White Cat Legend

Wolf (The)

Wonderland of Love

You are my Glory

Young Blood 1

Youth Memories (The)

If I made any errors in how I listed these, please inform me. Contact info is on our CARRD, or you can just send an ask or DM.

If you’re a creator and you’d like to add a fandom to what you’re willing to do, contact me via one of the communication methods listed on the CARRD FAQ.

-Cdrama Action Team 🍉

[vivididreams]

The Differences Between Classical Literature and Modern Literature

✨Between the past and the present, between hope and doubt, between order and chaos; literature is not just words on paper, but a mirror reflecting the evolution of human thought and its response to time. While classical literature was born in an era that revered system and harmony with nature, modern literature emerged to reflect the confusion of man in the face of the transformations of the contemporary world, where established principles collapse, and ideas fragment in a constant search for meaning.

In classical literature, wisdom and truth were derived from celestial forces, and heroism was embodied in characters who exemplified moral and physical perfection. The writings revolved around achieving personal ideals and harmonizing with the laws of the universe. This was the case in "The Iliad" and "The Odyssey," where tales of honor and glory intertwined with myths that taught humans how to deal with the universe gently, how to reconcile the inner and outer worlds. This type of literature elevated humans to the ideal of beauty, with the hero representing the pinnacle of nobility and perfection. But is this the essence of humanity? Was this the reality we live in?

Here comes modern literature to make a difference. There are no longer perfect heroes, no ready-made solutions, or final answers. In modern literature, humanity is no longer a symbol of pure good or pure evil. Humans are trapped in their internal conflicts, in questions that have no answers, in the destruction of inherited beliefs, and in their relentless search for self-understanding and understanding of the society they inhabit. Modern literature delves into the unknown, strips the surface, and transcends traditional frameworks. It shows us the fragility of existence, the internal pain, the struggle of the self with a world that seems far from perfection.

🌠In this contrast between classical and modern literature, the deep impact each has had on thought becomes apparent. Classical literature taught us that humanity could achieve greatness through rational thought and adherence to fixed principles. But is this greatness what truly defines human essence? Meanwhile, modern literature invites us to seek meaning in confusion, in mistakes, in the chaos we live daily. If perfection failed to provide answers, could meaning lie in acknowledging our flaws?

Meaning does not lie in the sense of perfection, but in our understanding of our deep truths, our internal contradictions. While classical literature sought to rebuild humanity according to fixed standards, modern literature, with its chaotic form and diverse experiences, paints a more realistic picture of humanity: a tormented, lost being, yet always searching for a truth that might not even exist.

Through classical literature, we learned that thought has a collective consciousness, a return to nature, a taste for beauty, a reverence for fixed values. On the other hand, modern literature, despite its ambiguity and occasional confusion, made us face the truth that humans cannot live in a static world that never changes. Change is the eternal law, and contradiction is the reality we live in.

Literature, in its essence, is the art of deconstruction and reconstruction. Classical literature built humans from the inside out, while modern literature, as I see it, seeks to organize the scattered parts within us to reshape reality. Perhaps there are no longer heroes we can emulate, and perhaps there are no fixed standards for good and evil, but modern literature leaves us the freedom to rediscover ourselves in this ever-changing world.

In the end, can we say that modern literature is a continuation of classical literature? Perhaps. But it is certainly not a mere imitation. Modern literature is an expansion of horizons; it does not bet on a final answer but encourages continuous search and questioning of meaning.