#look w j white has some good points but it's buried under a lot of defensive ricardian posturing

[une-sanz-pluis]

god spare me from articles about Henry VI's death written by Ricardians going, "how do we even know Henry VI was murdered? huh? huh? Tudor propaganda!!"

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi! Can I just say that I'm soooooooooooooooooooo happy someone writes DMC content? I feel like there's not a whole lot of that kind of content on here that suits my needs!!!!!!😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

My request is maybe Dante NSFW alphabet? 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 plz and thnx

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dante’s aftercare is a little rusty. Most of his sexual experience has been one-night stands which ended with either him or his flavor of the night leaving pretty shortly after their heated rendezvous came to a close.

His favorite thing though is long, intimate cuddle sessions and silly pillow talk. If you want something to eat or drink he’ll get it for you (although beware his go-to is gonna be ordering pizza.) He would also be totally down for showering together if you wanted to. If you have more aftercare requirements, you’ll likely have to guide him through it. Dante really wants to do good for you. Give him some guidance, and he’ll happily oblige as long as it makes you feel good.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dante is confident in his entire body, honestly. He’s muscular and strong, he knows he’s a good looking giy. He is a little bit cocky about it as well. However, if you worship your favorite parts of his body he will be inclined to include those as his favorites.

Dante loves the sound of your laugh, and would do just about anything to have that sweet sound caressing his ears. Especially when accompanied by that bright smile. His favorite thing is when he makes you laugh during sex or while making out and you bury your face against his neck to try to cover it up.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Oh, Dante is definitely weak for cumming in your mouth. He loves it when you’re on your knees in front of him with his cock down your throat, and watching you make a mess of yourself trying to swallow his large load. He would also love painting your skin with his cum.

Dante makes you cum as many times as possible. He loves the way you feel around his cock and how soaked he gets in your juices. But even more than that, he loves pleasing you. The way your name falls from his lips so passionately, and your hands tug on his long hair. He loves knowing he made you feel so good.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Oh the number of times Dante has jacked off at his desk with lewd thoughts of you running through his mind. Sometimes he even gets a pair of your underwear and holds it to his face while he’s jacking off. With his heightened senses, he is practically surrounded by you. He can almost imagine you’re there instead of his own hand.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dante is experienced, but maybe not quite as experienced as he tries to make out to be. It’s mostly been quickies and one-night stands. Nothing very intimate, so while he knows technically what he’s doing he might need a little help actually learning your body. He’s pretty eager to please, and he has good instincts.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position involving you on his desk drives him wild. It’s just something he really enjoys a lot. Especially having you bent over so he can fuck you from behind, and expect to get spanked.

However, he also enjoys lazy, spooning sex in the bed. Bonus points if it’s in the morning and you’re both still a little sleepy and uninhibited.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Dante tends to be a little bit silly during sex. Sometimes cracking jokes, or just doing random things to get a giggle out of you. He likes to unwind and he loves making you laugh. If you need a more serious moment, he can accommodate that. And there will be times he just wants to be more serious and intimate. Dante also at times requires a bit of comfort sex, although he’ll never actually call it that. He’ll just be a bit more needy and clingy than usual.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is actually a pretty hairy guy. He’s got nice, soft white chest hair. A patch on his stomach that leads into his pants. His pubes are a bit more gray than white, and it’s coarse. On his own accord, he will let it go wild. In a relationship, he’ll put a little more effort into keeping it trimmed up. However, he’d really prefer not to be clean shaven.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dante usually tends to be more laid back, but he will also make you feel like the only thing that matters in the whole world. He gives a lot of kisses and soft caresses. Between silly jokes or absolutely filthy dirty talk, he’ll confess how much he adores you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off a lot, often purely out of boredom. If he’s alone in the office, it wouldn’t take much effort to walk in on him stroking his cock while sitting at his desk with a dirty magazine open. Sometimes he even tries to time it so you will catch him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lingerie is a big one for Dante, but also he would be into a sexy school girl outfit. Slight corruption kink, and he absolutely has a daddy kink. Spanking. Semi-public sex.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The comfort of your own bedroom is nice when he wants to take his time with you. As mentioned before, he also loves fucking you on his desk. He also has a weakness for sloppy sex in less than ideal places like a bar bathroom or an alleyway.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dante gets turned on pretty easily, but will often play hard to get just because he likes it when you try to seduce him. Hearing you beg for his cock and smothering him in affection is the easiest way to get him going. He likes feeling loved and wanted.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dante doesn’t want to risk doing anything that could hurt you, and with him being half demon he’s all too aware that it’s a possibility. He might be down to experiment a bit with devil trigger, but he has his limits with it and he’s pretty steadfast in his limits.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dante has a slight preference for receiving. At times he has to remind himself to return the favor. Not to say he doesn’t enjoy giving, because he does. And that mouth is good, okay? The man can go down like no other. But sometimes he gets so turned on by having your pretty little mouth around his cock, that he gets ahead of himself and just wants to sink himself into your pussy immediately afterwards. He’ll make it up to you though.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends. He defaults to fast and rough because he tends to get totally lost in the pleasure and wants to pound into you. However, there are times he just wants to go slow and feel you all around him. These are the times when he’s feeling needy and wants to give and receive a lot of affection.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He enjoys quickies a whole lot, and will never turn down the chance. It’s a pretty regular occurence, especially if he has to leave for a job but wants to fuck you before he leaves.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dante is pretty adventurous, and there are very few things that are off the table as far as he’s concerned. It just depends on what the risks are.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh boy...He has amazing stamina. He can pretty much last as long as he wants to, and can go for multiple rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dante has never really played around with toys too much, but he’s absolutely open to it. He’d be weak for having a vibrator used on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is such a tease. Hearing you whine and beg is music to his ears, and he will keep it up for a long time because he knows he’ll make all the teasing worth it for you. Also, he really enjoys teasing you at very bad moments. Like having dinner with friends? Don’t be surprised if Dante starts rubbing your pussy under the table, but never putting enough pressure to get you off. So by the time you leave, you’re basically dripping wet and absolutely infuriated with him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dante talks a lot, and this is no different with sex. He’s big into dirty talk. He also tends to let out a lot of primal sounds like growls and purrs. Pretty much always lets out a deep growl when he cums.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dante is a braggart. He loves fucking you very loudly when he knows people can hear because he wants everyone to know how well he can fuck you. This is also a bit of a possessive thing, but he won’t admit that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His cock is about 9 inches and very girthy. There’s gonna be a stretch every time he slides it inside of you, but he is aware of this and will take his time to let you adjust before getting rough.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dante’s sex drive is ridiculous. He is pretty much down to fuck anytime, but he doesn’t let it get in the way of pressing matters.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep pretty easily afterwards, and sometimes he won’t even warn you. You’ll be cuddling in bed, and then you just hear him start snoring.

[foilfreak]

BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 9 (temporary 1-2 week hiatus being taken from his fic, click ao3 link and read end notes to find out why. I WILL BE COMING BACK!!!)

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link below)

Despite the shrill echo of Nadine’s terrified voice being something Salvatore has prepared himself for since before the young woman even arrived in the reservoir, the real thing was still somehow 100 times worse than he could have ever imagined it being.

Chaos followed as Salvatore frantically left his hiding spot, crawling across the floor as quickly as his mangled body would allow, as a loud crashing sound vibrates the whole room once Nadine’s body finally lands, quite uncomfortably I might add, on the hardwood of the floor. The sudden frantic and terrified swinging of her arms following Salvatore’s verbal slip knocked the poor woman off balance, sending her right back down to the floor for a second time.

Staring at the writhing figure of Nadine from the other corner across the room, Salvatore sniffles pitifully to himself as tears cascade down his face. Oh how appropriately cruel, that the universe wouldn’t even give Salvatore the decency of a proper meeting with Nadine, much less a chance at friendship and even less at anything past that. It makes perfect sense that this would be the way Nadine found out how disgusting and pathetic he is. Sitting alone in a dark and dingy room, watching old romance films because he has no one of his own to hold and love like the men in the movies do, and eating entire blocks of cheese all on his own, because nothing pairs with unending loneliness like the tang of sharp cheddar and the horrible stomach ache that follows it.

Putting his hands up to cover his face, a final effort to hide himself away from the beautiful woman’s gaze, Salvatore merely sat in his new corner, his shoulders shaking with sobs of agony and his body trembling in fear as Nadine’s gaze finally locked on to him, and him alone this time, in the dark silence of the room.

“H-Hey… are you alright? I’m sorry I yelled like that, I didn’t mean to startle you like that, but you suddenly spoke up out of nowhere and it scared me half to death” The soft voice from across the room asks, causing Salvatore to pause in his moment of self-loathing. Did… did she just ask him if he was alright? Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to ask her that?

“W-what…?” Salvatore chokes out, peering out slightly from behind the cover of his hood in confusion. The sight he’s met with is one that steals his breath away, much like the first time he laid eyes upon the stunning beauty this tiny woman held. However, unlike their “first” meeting, that took place back in Mother Miranda’s lab, this time there was no metal pod separating the two, Salvatore realized, as the sight of Nadine, slouched tiredly on the ground barely a few feet away from where he cowered in the corner, registered in the mutant man’s mind.

Next, of course, came her actual appearance. Black strands tousled messily across her forehead framed her round face and golden eyes perfectly. Her long white dress bunched up around her upper thighs, revealing the curves of her large, but muscular legs, that had previously been obscured by the material of her dress. Slouched shoulders and heavy breathing caused the material of Nadine’s nightgown to slowly inched its way down the front of her chest, not exposing her necessarily, but definitely revealing more and more of her lusciously plump breasts with every harsh up and down of her shoulders.

Tears continued to fall from Salvatore’s eyes even as saliva began to fill his mouth and his fear and self-loathing slowly gave way to the growing fire beginning to kindle in the pit of his stomach. The sound of his muffled sobs of anguish and arousal escaping from behind his hands causes Nadine’s face to immediately fall, agony replacing the previously wild look her face held.

“N… N-no. No no, please don’t cry. It’s alright. I-I-I’m not going to hurt you… I mean it… see… I don’t have any weapons on me” Nadine says hurriedly, standing up and doing a spin to show that nothing that could pose potential harm to Salvatore was hiding between the folds or frills of the thin garment. “See! Nothing to hide.”

Salvatore merely closed his tear soaked eyes and shook his head, the motion moving his whole body along with it. “Nooooooooooo… y-you d-don’t… under-s-stand…”

“What do you mean? What don’t I understand?” Nadine asked, kneeling back down to the ground, moving slightly closer to Salvatore than she was before, a terrifyingly genuine look of concern and worry etched into her beautiful features.

The mutant man fought back a wave of nausea and choked on a sob at the angelic sight. Hoards of hormones equating to despair and arousal battle within the hellish confines of Salvatore’s brain. The mutant man was filled with so many mixed emotions that he genuinely couldn’t tell if he wanted to tear himself apart until not a scrap of evidence of his existence remained, or if he wanted to just spring forward and consume the delectably dangerous morsel that sat so prettily before him, like an octopus latching itself upon the almighty great white shark as it just passes above their home, pulling the now helpless and unsuspecting predator down into the depths of a true monster’s domain.

“Hey, come on now. It sounds like you’re having a hard time breathing. Why don’t you come out of the corner where the air’s a little fresher, ya?” The young woman coaxes gently, moving ever so slightly closer to Salvatore as she speaks. The movement does not go unnoticed by the hooded man, nor does the way it pushes her dress even further up her already decently exposed thighs, but with little ability to stop Nadine’s incremental advances, Salvatore merely buries his face into his hands, blocking as much of his disgustingly bloated maw as he possibly could, even as the young woman attempted to change her angle to get a better look at him.

“P-p-please… jus-just stop!” Salvatore commands, suddenly filled with a wave of confidence that abandons him just as quickly as it arrived. “j-j-j… j-just… g-go… please…”

A light mist has become visible in the light reflecting off of Nadine’s eyes, the young woman looking truly saddened by the strange man’s utter rejection of her. Whether it was out of pity for Salvatore’s sake, or fear of her own impending isolation should the likes of Salvatore even reject her company, the hooded man could neither tell, nor did he really want to know.

“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to someone trying to be your friend now is it? I might not look as normal as I used to but I’m not here to cause any trouble” Nadine scolds lightly, her voice strong, though even Salvatore can detect a slight wobble. “But… if you can give me a valid reason why I should leave, then… then I’ll do it, no questions asked.”

A valid reason? What other reason did she need than to get away from him?

Salvatore takes a moment to wipe away some of the tears that coated his face, slightly peeking out to look at the younger woman once again before speaking. “Y-you… you can’t… s-stay here… th-this place… it i-isn’t… isn’t g-good enough f-for you… it’s… i-its not w-worthy… I-i… I’m… n-not worthy… of you…”

Nadine shifts slightly closer once again, a pained look cut into her face like a raging storm cuts through large waves out in the open ocean. Her whole body was a sea of turbulent waters as she gingerly reached her hand forward, slowly but surely inching her way closer to Salvatore, until her wine dark fingers just barely brushed against the thick, rugged fabric of his overcoat.

Silence befell the two mutants, permeating the room with tension so thick and heavy Salvatore thought he might suffocate.

The cornered man could not bring himself to look up as Nadine’s delicate fingers gently latched on to the article of clothing covering his wretched and disgusting form. Salvatore shuddered as he prepared himself for what was inevitably to come once Nadine removed his overcoat: the biting cold of the surrounding area pinching and nipping at his thick, but sensitive flesh; another shrill shriek of fear and terror that would pierce him to his very core; the sound of Nadine, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, immaculate Nadine, fleeing not just the underground tunnels that had lead her to discover this place, but also the reservoir, never to be seen again.

Salvatore wouldn’t blame her for this choice, of course. After all, it’s what he would do if he found himself trapped with a wretched creature as grotesque and pitiful as he himself was. Death wasn’t an option Salvatore had the luxury of entertaining, but he never blamed others if they chose it over him.

He would too, if he could.

Despite his earlier expectations, the hand on his coat never moves to take the garment off the trembling man, instead, moving to gently run along the side of Salvatore’s head, down his shoulders, before resting itself softly, but firmly, along the area of growths that covered the small of his back. After taking a moment to allow the violent trembling of Salvatore’s body, in response to the young woman’s gentle caresses, to calm down to something more manageable, Nadine slowly lifts her left hand and rests it on the opposite side of the hunched-over man’s head, yet she makes no move to try and take his cloak off or remove his face from his hands.

Stillness and silence return for a brief moment, almost as though Nadine were waiting for Salvatore to raise objection to her advances and stop her, as if he had the power or control to do anything but cower in the corner and cover his growing excitement in shame. With no explicit objections voiced, the hands resting gently around Salvatore began to slowly pull him toward Nadine’s body.

“Come here” Nadine’s soft, heavenly voice commands lightly, as Salvatore’s body does as instructed with no resistance whatsoever. A broken sob of humiliating arousal escapes the hooded man when he gently falls forward into Nadine’s lap, her arms quickly moving to wrap around and hold the hooded man against her soft, warm, and strong body.

“Shhhh, it’s alright. There’s no need to be so worked up. You have nothing to be afraid of, here” Nadine coos soothingly, as her hand gently caresses his thin, leather covered arm.

Salvatore cries pitifully as the painfully comforting words and actions make him want to vomit from overjoy. “Y-you… you d-dont unders-s-stand…” the hunched man weeps, his voice slightly muffled by his knees as he continues trying to hide his face by shoving it as far between his legs as he’s physically capable.

“What don’t I understand? Could you explain it to me?” Nadine asks, patiently holding the sobbing mess of a man firmly against herself as he collects himself enough to answer.

“I-it isn’t… you… th-that I f-fear…” Salvatore begins, trailing off as another wave of cold dread and fiery desire collide violently somewhere deep inside the hooded man’s chest.

“What is it that you’re afraid of then? If not... me?” The young woman’s angelic voice questioned, the slightly fearful and worried tone of her voice toward the end of her question, as if what Salvatore thought of her was even worth her precious time to worry about, made the mutant man’s stomach wretch sickeningly.

“I-I… I f-fear… oh god-” Salvatore began, before promptly shutting up and shoving Nadine as far away from him as he could from that angle, throwing himself to the floor, on his hands and knees, in the opposite direction just as a wave of acidic bile forces its way from the confines of the man’s mouth and out onto the floor in front of him. His own hideous reflection stares back at him in the growing puddle of stomach acid once he’s done.

A spiteful reminder from the universe of what he was and why he lived the way that he did.

Drunkenly reaching his hand forward to smear the vomit puddle around so he at least didn’t have to look at himself AND sit in his own filth while he gathered the energy to get up and wash off in the lake, Salvatore missed the way Nadine’s eyes narrowed in confusion at the man’s clumsy movements, before suddenly widening as she realized what the hooded man was doing.

“No, wait! Don’t touch that, it’ll only make you feel worse if you fiddle around with that nasty stuff” Nadine says hurriedly, as she rushes forward to take Salvatore’s moving hand in her own and presses it firmly against her bosom to prevent the man from playing around in his own throw up. She gasps in shock and her grip tightens around Salvatore’s hand, as though she’d suddenly remembered something important she’d forgotten about and Salvatore’s hand had brought it back to her conscious mind, before shaking her head and pulling herself from her thoughts.

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let me wipe your face for you, and try to take deeper, slower breaths while you’re at it. You’ve managed to work yourself into such a panic that it's no wonder you’re throwing up all over yourself.”

The room is spinning far too fast and in far too many different directions for Salvatore to really be sure what’s going on, however the feeling of Nadine’s skin pressed against his own as she tenderly raised the edge of her pristine white dress to wipe away the lines of green acidic bile that had been left on Salvatore’s lip, was a sensation of euphoria unlike anything the hooded man has ever felt before in his entire life.

Not even Mother Miranda’s own embrace felt quite as… ‘brutal’ wasn’t the appropriate word to use based on its true definition, but in that instance it's the only word that Salvatore can think of to describe how intense everything around him, Nadine especially, feels at the present moment. Her touch, her scent, her warmth, her weight, her firm grip around him, the constant rhythmic thrum of her heart beat against his cold, bony hand, all of it was so intensely brutal that it was a wonder how the combined effect didn’t beat him into the floor. It was too much for Salvatore to handle all at once, and yet he knew that if the kind angel sitting next to him retracted so much as a single one of those sensations, he’d lose himself to insanity like careless swimmers lose themselves to sudden rapid currents.

Salvatore threw up 3 more times before his stomach finally allowed him the relief the hooded man had desperately been craving. The floor was an absolute mess by this point, but thanks to Nadine, who’d managed to keep his upper body upright the whole time, Salvatore hadn’t made nearly as much of a mess of himself as he normally did, though that still didn’t fix the primary problem that had resulted in all that vomiting.

“There we go. That must feel a lot better, huh?” Nadine asks calmly, pulling Salvatore in to rest against her chest once again, his face still turned downward and away in avoidance.

Although Salvatore does not grace her question with a response, the hooded man has long since given up trying to get away from the young woman, at this point just allowing her to move him however she pleased, taking in as much of her kindness and affection as he possibly could, before she inevitably hightails it out of here, of course. It was only a matter of time, at this rate.

“You know… you’re a lot bigger than I expected you to be” comes a sudden declaration from Nadine, breaking the silence that had permeated throughout the room and immediately pulling Salvatore from his dejected whimpering.

“I mean… I suppose I should have expected that, especially since most middle schoolers are taller than me, nowadays” the young woman continues with a lighthearted chuckle, “but you looked so small and stump-like from all the way up in that stupid pod that I couldn’t help but be a little surprised when I felt you had arms and legs. You could have very well had a snake for a body for all I knew and I still don’t think I’d have been as surprised, though this huge coat you're wearing certainly doesn’t make getting a good look at you very easy.”

“Th… that’s th-the point…” Salvatore mumbles, though seemingly more to himself than anyone else.

“Really? And why is that?” Nadine asks curiously, clearly having heard the older man’s muttering.

“I-if… if you k-knew me… you’d know… th-the answer to that q-question” Salvatore replies sadly, fresh tears beginning to prickle along his lower lid, threatening to spill over as the depressing reality of his meaningless existence makes itself more than obvious.

He was a filthy monster who deserved to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable, because why would something as unholy as him ever be worthy of anything else?

“Oh, now I don’t think that’s true at all. After all, I’d like to think I know you pretty well, and I still want to see what you look like” Nadine counters, her words shocking Salvatore beyond belief.

She… knew him? How? When? In what ways? What?

The only other time they’ve ever interacted was back in Mother Miranda’s laboratory. While the hooded man supposed his gifts could be aiding in Nadine’s surprisingly positive impression of him, he hesitated to call receiving a dress and a necklace from a random stranger “knowing” someone. How on earth could she say she knew him when, for all intents and purposes, they’ve only just met?

“B-b-but… h-how… how d-do you k-know… m-me? Y-you have… t-trouble… seeing… d-dont you? D-did… did y-you see me… b-back in the l-lab?” Salvatore asks, tears belonging to an unspecified emotion once again beginning to fall as a hand moves to gently grasp at the bones lining the top of his hood.

“Unfortunately no, I wasn’t able to get a good look at you before, hence why I was trying so hard to catch a glimpse of you earlier. You are, however, right in the assumption about my eyesight. I have severely impaired vision, yes, but it's manageable with a strong enough prescription; not that I see myself getting to an eye doctor anytime soon for a new pair of contacts. But even without my contact lenses, I can still make out general movements, as well as general shapes and colors, pretty easily from far away, it's just fine details from a distance and darkness that give me the most trouble. My vision is actually perfectly normal so long as whatever I’m looking at is within a few feet of me. If I looked down right now, I’d probably be able to see your face normally. Do you hide your face away from everyone around here?” the young woman asks curiously, gently pulling the dark fabric of the hood back, slowly revealing Salvatore’s face to the dim light of the room, even as her gaze remained locked on the wall behind them.

“N-not… e-everyone… th-there’s a f-few… who… who I sh-show my f-face to… regularly” Salvatore chokes.

Really?” Nadine asks, “like who?”

“M-my… siblings.”

“Oh, so you’re not the only one around here then? Are your siblings here in the reservoir?”

“N-no… th-they live… in o-other places… of th-their own… a-around the v-village.”

“Wow, so there is more of this place to explore, then!” Nadine states excitedly. “I’d love to get out and see more of the area for myself at some point, though I doubt that’s very wise given the amount of howling I’ve heard the past few nights and the fact I don’t know my way around this area... though, even if I did, that memory is probably long gone along with the fucking rest of them… not that I would have wanted to hold onto them anyways, I don’t think.”

Salvatore’s attention is caught by the last bit of Nadine’s statement, confusion filling him over what the younger woman could possibly mean by what she’d just said. “‘G-gone along w-with the rest o-of them?’... W-what… d-does that… what d-do you m-mean?”

Nadine remains silent for a moment as she continues to absentmindedly stroke the side of Salvatore’s head, the hooded man unable to tell what she could possibly be feeling right now without risking exposing his face to her.

Thankfully, Nadine resumes speaking before Salvatore loses patience and gets too risky. “My memory of the life I had before waking up in that damn pod is foggy at absolute best, but I don’t need my memories to know that I wasn’t very happy with my previous life and that I was actively trying to get away from it somehow. What exactly was I even running from and where was I going? Who knows, and frankly I don’t care to relearn it either. I do think it's quite funny that you were talking about me needing to go somewhere else because this place isn’t good enough for me though, because honestly, even if I could somehow get the hell out of here, it's not like I’d have anywhere else to go. Getting away from the shitty life I had before is probably how I ended up here to begin with, though if I’d known this was how things would end up I might have reconsidered throwing it all away so suddenly.”

Had it not been for Mother Miranda being there for him throughout the years, Salvatore would probably think much the same way as Nadine about the whole situation, but having Mother meant he always had a purpose and a goal to work towards, so it didn’t matter that Salvatore couldn’t return to his old life. What shocked the deformed man the most however, was the fact that Nadine appeared to not only already accept the fact that she couldn’t go back to her former life, but seemed to actively be searching for something, anything new to try and fill the void that had been left behind by the life she’d, more or less, willingly gave away to come up here.

Could… could this mean…?

“Thankfully my ability to make new memories doesn’t seem to have been fucked up at all, which I’m quite happy about since I'll be needing to make a lot to fill in the empty spaces in my brain. We met for the first time in the underground laboratory I was being kept in, though I suppose it was less ‘meeting’ and more ‘seeing’ for the first time, but… still. I don’t know why you were there, or who was with you at the time, but I remember waking up just before you were about to leave. There were a couple others who’d come, before you, to look at me and a couple others for some reason, but you were the one who stuck out the most, to me. You were… special!”

Shock and dumbfounded awe nearly choke the life right out of Salvatore. He could barely comprehend a single word the young woman was saying to him, yet he clung to every heavenly syllable she uttered like they were the foundations of the word of god itself. The pain and agony he normally felt due to his cadou mutations momentarily paused, slowly weaning from its usual constant thrum to a dull numbness that felt surprisingly euphoric in all it’s nothingness.

“S-special? Me?” Salvatore breathed, almost unable to believe the words, even as Nadine hummed in affirmation of their truth. “B-but… how…?”

The giddy chuckle Salvatore’s mundane question pulled from Nadine shook the deformed man to his very core. Her girlish laughter rattles violently around inside the deformed man’s head, playing the sweet, holy tune over and over again, like a broken record that Salvatore would happily go insane listening to for the rest of eternity if he could.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d have assumed you knew exactly what you were doing with how sweetly you talked back there, why it's almost criminal how suavely you stroked and tugged at the strings of my delicate heart. All the others were so rude, boring, and/or annoying that I thought I might die if I ended up stuck with one of them, but then you came in and swept me right off my feet. It was like nothing else I’ve ever felt before and immediately told me that you weren’t like all the others, you were a kind man and if I ever ran into you I could tell I’d be able to trust you…” Nadine trails off for a moment. “When I learned that we were being moved out of containment and onto our “permanent homes”, I hoped and prayed that I’d be lucky enough to end up wherever you were, but I didn’t want to get too excited until I found out for certain.”

“Th-then how did y-you know… it-it was me?”

“How could I possibly not? You set yourself apart from all the others right out of the gate. I'm honestly shocked you don’t remember it yourself. But there's not a single doubt in my mind that I know exactly who you are… er- well, I suppose a more appropriate way of putting that would be “I know exactly who you are to me”, not that what other people say or think has ever really been something I’ve taken with more than a grain of salt” Nadine giggle beautifully, smiling kindly as she cradled Salvatore’s hoodless, tear soaked face against her, like he were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes upon and wanted to hold and protect him until the end of time.

Unable to look away any longer, Salvatore allows his head to rise from his knees until it settles upon the face of the woman currently cradling him in her arms. Her gaze remained turned away from Salvatore for a moment, though for some reason the hooded man had a feeling that it was more out of respect for him and his boundaries than a lack of desire to see his face.

What a strange thing, to be treated with more kindness, love, and respect from a complete stranger than from the majority of people you interact with.

Salvatore wanted to cry when Nadine’s golden eyes finally lowered to him, her face slowly shifting downwards until their noses were little more than an inch apart from one another, though whether his tears were from agony or ecstasy, even he couldn’t properly tell at the present moment. Only one question was on his mind and the deformed man would stop at nothing until he got an answer for it.

“W-who… who am I-I… t-to y-you?” Salvatore asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he forces himself to stare directly into the endless pool of honey yellow swirling around in her irises, wanting-no… needing to know, to see with his own two eyes, what exactly he was to this woman, and whether that answer would spell endless disaster for him and his deep seeded desires, or be the key that unlocks a world of possibilities almost as endless as the spheres of gold that Salvatore finds himself unable, or rather unwilling, to tear his gaze from, lest this be the first, and last time he ever be blessed enough to see them from this close.

A long moment of silence passes as Nadine returns Salvatores gaze, the fondness of her expression only growing as she lowers her forehead to rest against his, a soft, almost breathlessly enamored expression that he’d only seen on black and white screens cast toward men eons more pleasant to look at than he was, slowly spread across her perfect face as she finally answers Salvatore’s question.

“You’re the lovely man who held my hand!”

[liberace19]

Liberace, wearing a green brocade velvet evening suit with a rhinestone-studded , collar, moves elegantly and flamboyantly into the massive sitting room of his sumptuous Waldorf Towers suite. The famous toothy grin is a familiar greeting. Liberace's symbolic diamond jewelry is obviously a projection of his millionaire musician status. The oversized diamond candelabra ring, which lights up the knuckles, has shiny flames made of large blue-white diamonds. The face of the piano-shaped watch is entirely of diamonds. Rays of bright sunshine, like an accidental heavenly spotlight, flow into the room and focus on the sprawling gilt grand piano that dominates the room but not the man. Liberace, at 54, seemingly untouched by the steep rigors of time and pace, appears happily ensconsed in the jarring environmental opulence. All this super-showmanship is very natural, right? Wrong. "It's just a way of laughing at myself," says Liberace about t; - , ...... i 7. , i, i a k 'jn Z 'fA A 7 - ' "V ''A J Jf t ? ' $ i I4 ' C" ' . ; ' . b. ..i: y f i i t L. FLASHY - The fabled Liberace's fashions are matched only by the entertainer's the great put-on of being fashion's original peacock. "I'm all embroidery, brilliants, sparkle and fur. It startles people into a sense of amusement. I've adopted fashion in its most extreme exaggerations and made it part of my performance. It's outlandish I admit it. But I get my audience caught up in my world. First it's oh's, Then it's ah's. Then deafening applause. Liberace's stage clothes valued at $1 million are designed for him by an old movie lot . tailor, Frank Acuna, who created cinema clothes for Rudolf Valentino and Tyrone Power. Acuna has created everything from a red velvet tuxedo with knickers ($10,000 because the buttons are diamond studs) to a maxi length tiered ermine coat that's $35,000. Offstage, a semi-conservative Liberace wears clothes by Pierre Cardin or Bill Blass. They're usually bought off-the-rack. On his non-conformist style that brings fanfare: "In 1963 I tried to revert back to what might be called sensible onstage clothes," he says. "That year my income dropped by $800,000. My public felt it was being cheated. Not to see Liberace 'done-up' is like coming sparkling smile. across Marlene Dietrich in a baggy old housedress." Liberace, who uses only his last name as a performer, has just completed an atuobiogra-phy (G. P. Putman) under his own name, Waldziu (Walter) Liberace. It tells of his climb to the top despite tremendous odds. "All people really know about me is: I like fashion. I'm good to my mother.. I have a brother named George. I never play piano without candlebra," he says. "Look , I've faced death. I know what it is to be a failure. I come from a family where divorce is rampant. My beginnings were humble. I achieved this pinnacle by believing in myself. My book tells it all." Liberace's mother, now 81. is his life's inspiration. She has been near death several times in the last two years but has great recuperative powers born of an abiding faith. "I kid her that she's going to bury us all," says Liberace. Ten years ago Liberace had an acute kidney failure. He was given the last rites of the Catholic church. His mother prayed. Liberace baffled doctors by one of those overnight recoveries. "But I was resigned to dying," he says. "I faced it. What was the most emotionally disturbing thing was the pros- pect of having to start life over again. "At that point, money was scarce. But when I went back onstage, some sort of magic happened. My performances took on a depth they didn't have before. "Suddenly I was huppy really happy to be alive. People responded. It's miraculous. Now I work less, get more and enjoy it the most." Liberace, who earns $150,000 a week, has three antique-filled decorative villas two in Los Angeles and one in Palm Springs. Liberace who won a libel suit against a British columnist in 1959 for casting aspersions on his masculinity has been engaged three times. "Something always happened to prevent the marriages," he says. His true love, Moulin Rouge dancer Joanne Rio the girl who lived across the street from him in Sherman Oaks, Cal. couldn't come to grips with the personal impetus behind his fame and fortune. "My career has always been a cause for great jealousy with a woman. It's like the third party, he says. Why has he never married? "I don't believe in divorce. Marriage is a final step. Look, when I was 21, I discovered that my father had a mistress. To my horror, I then found out that he'd had that mistress for 20 years. We never had words. But it shook my soul. A man of 21 is deeply impressionable on the subject of marriage." George, his brother and onetime partner, had a $1 million estate which was wiped out hv a succession of five wi"cs. w;s sister, Angie, has had three The Girls "That's his en big fault h feels he's being Ignored whenever I talk to guests and leaps all over them now, as I was saying. . ." husbands. "Some people are just losers when it comes to weddings," he says. "I refuse to be." Liberace's hair, a soft brown, is fluffy and impeccably cut. Six years ago he invested money in a beauty salon, "The Barbery Coast," in Los Angeles. Hairdressers there taught him how to do his own coiffures. "Now I can do anybody's" he says. "Sometimes I fix Mama's chignons. And I've gotten Angie to wear wigs." "Even the hard hats have shoulder length hair today," he says. Remembering the lawsuit, he adds, "I understand why those stones were thrown at me. I was a fashion pioneer who blazed a trail for ostenta-tiousness. Finally I laughed and coined the phrase, 'I cried all the way to the bank!' " Liberace's Italian-born father, now 91, is in a convalescent home in Sacramento. Once he was a French horn player with the Philadelphia Orchestra. When Liberace was 16, he made his piano debut with the Chicago Symphony. My father liked serious music and I wanted to be an entertainer," says Liberace who did his own thing and disenchanted his father. "As he became older, he mellowed. Now he lives in the past. When I visit him he remembers me only as a child." About his current lifestyle: "When you reach the to?, you feel there is still more you can do to come in contact with humanity. When you're sick, you learn to value every bit of energy in your body. When you recover, you learn to spend energy meaningfully. If you've got all these values straight, you're at the peak of life." 1974

[tendaifmp-blog]

Most people who are familiar with Civil War history know that Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson, the famous Confederate Lieutenant General, died a very peculiar death. His own men accidentally shot him in the Battle of Chancellorsville on May 2, 1863.

But what really happened on that fateful night? Although historians generally state that Jackson was shot because of the darkness and confusion on the battlefield, the waters of history have been fairly muddy on this particular subject. Jackson’s fame led many people—from both sides of the conflict—to claim that they were involved in his death, and conspiracy theories of murder and foul play have surfaced every once in a while.

The question was finally answered in 2013, near the 150th anniversary of the great general’s death (which may or may not have been a happy coincidence). Two astronomers painstakingly calculated the phases of the moon during that fateful night. When Jackson was returning to his troops, the moon was so dim it would only have revealed his silhouette. When the fatigued, frightened soldiers were startled by this mysterious, soldier-shaped shadow, they instinctively opened fire . . . only to find to their horror that they had felled their own commander.

9Lost Confederate Gold

When the South eventually lost the war In April 1865, a major mystery was shadowing the Union’s great victory. The country was torn by the conflict, and they desperately needed all the money they could get their hands on to rebuild. This is why the North was more than eager to get their hands on the Confederate war treasury. But the ”damn Yankees” were in for a surprise: The gold was nowhere to be found.

To this day, no one truly knows what happened to the Confederate gold. Many theorize that it was divided up and buried by many plantation owners, to wait for the day when the South would rise again. Others say it was robbed by a ragtag team of Confederate and Union deserters, never to be seen again. Others still maintain that it just . . . disappeared.

There are many legends about the location of this great treasure. One stash is said to be in Savannah, Georgia, buried in a cemetery under the name of a fake general. Another is supposedly in West Central Broward County, buried by an ambushed general who was trying to take it to Cuba.

However, most of those stashes are probably nothing more than legends. Although no one truly knows where the gold is hidden, the actual value of the treasury was probably somewhere around $500,000—many times less than many Union generals reported. This means that if there indeed are stashes, there are either a lot less of them than most people think, or they’re much smaller. Still, that doesn’t stop people from theorizing.

One particularly juicy rumor concerns a town called Danville, Virginia. Fairly reliable historical proof suggests that a former Confederate Navy official, James A. Semple, hid a large amount of Mexican silver dollars—thought to be a part of the Confederate treasure—in the area. Some say they have even found some of these coins.

8The Mystery Of General Grant’s Photograph

The image above is a very famous photo known as “General Grant at City Point.” It shows Ulysses S. Grant, Union general and future president of the United States, addressing his troops on horseback at their stations in City Point, Virginia. But a closer look at the picture will reveal some strange anomalies: Grant, a famous horseman, is sitting very uncomfortably on his steed. His head seems to be at a painful angle, as if he’s craning to see something. He seems like he’s mysteriously put on quite a bit of weight, and even his clothes seem to be from a completely different time period. What’s wrong with the famous general?

Detective work by the Library of Congress revealed that photo manipulation was very popular in the old times as well. When you look closely, tiny scratch marks reveal that this majestic photograph is actually a skillful fabrication: The horse and body belong to Major General Alexander McCook, and the head is taken from another, less majestic portrait of Grant. Even the place in the picture is not what it claims to be: Instead of City Point, the photo is actually set to the background of some Confederate prisoners captured at Fisher’s Hill.

Although it is unclear why the photo was manipulated to such an extent, it was most likely for publicity purposes. The original portrait from which the mighty general’s face was cropped showed him standing in front of his tent like an ordinary soldier, leaning casually on a hunk of wood. Although that was probably a much more accurate picture of the down-to-earth general, it is safe to assume that the original was not quite as majestic as many would have wanted.

7Mystery Photos

When Private Thomas W. Timberlake of the 2nd Virginia Infantry was walking through the corpse-littered battlefield of Port Royal, he happened to find a photo of a young girl. The problem was that said photo happened to lie exactly between two dead soldiers, one of them Confederate and the other one Union. Timberlake took the photo with him, and it eventually found its way to the Museum of Confederacy in Richmond, Virginia.

The museum has a fairly good collection of similar mystery photos that soldiers from both sides of the war had given for safe keeping and never reclaimed, most likely because they died in battle. They depict people that are long dead, and although the museum occasionally manages to track down some of the people in the pictures, some of them—like the unidentified young girl found between the dead soldiers—are never identified. Their pictures remain sad, old mysteries of a time gone by, never reclaimed or recognized by anyone.

6The Ghosts Of Kolb’s Farm

Photo credit:

Lonesome Crow

Perhaps because of its nature as a conflict where brother fought against brother, the Civil War has left behind quite a few ghost stories. From Gettysburg to Chickamauga, most major Civil War battlefields are notoriously infested with ghosts (at least if you believe the legends). But a battle doesn’t always need to be massive and famous for its site to become haunted.

Kolb Ridge Court was a small housing area on Kolb’s Farm, near Marietta, Georgia. On June 22, 1864, the area saw a fairly small battle that became known as The Battle of Kolb’s Farm. According to many, it was less of a large-scale battle and more of a skirmish. Still, it was more than enough to leave the area with strange phenomena.

The area survived the War, new houses were built, and new residents eventually moved in. The residents of one new house in particular have experienced extremely unnerving events, such as a mysterious (but seemingly solid) man in Civil War–era clothing walking in the house, unseen hands tugging their clothing, cold spots, and, most frighteningly, invisible beings playing with their power tools when no one is looking.

Strangely enough, the residents eventually made peace with their Civil War ghost. They realized that the spirit was actually quite shy and only started tinkering if no one was paying attention to it. Now, they just let their spiritual housemate do its thing and live their lives in amiable co-existence.

5The “Army Itch”

When you’re fighting a war, you get used to many inconveniences. Bad food, constant manual labor, wet boots, and, of course, actually having to kill other human beings—all major drawbacks of the life of a wartime soldier. However, the Civil War had one extra horror to throw in the mix.

The “Army Itch” was a dermatological terror that spread though the regiments, getting worse by the month throughout the conflict. It was a mysterious condition that caused men’s skin to swell and blister, to the point where they became a mass of sores and painful, pus-oozing lacerations. What’s more, their entire skin itched constantly and uncontrollably. Some men’s hands swelled so badly that their fingers couldn’t touch each other.

The true cause of the itch remained a mystery until 2006, when researchers were able to determine its true cause as epidemic scabies, a particularly hostile mite infection that swept through the armies in the less-than-hygienic conditions of the barracks and battlefields.

4Fort Monroe

Photo credit:

U.S. Army Environmental Command

Of all the Civil War sites that are reputedly haunted, it’s hard to name one that has classier ghosts than Fort Monroe.

Fort Monroe has a particularly storied history, even for a Civil War–era military compound. It was one of the few Southern forts that weren’t captured at any point in the war. With its castle-like structure—complete with moat and sturdy walls—it was considered one of the mightiest fortresses in the country. Perhaps this is why Fort Monroe appears to be haunted by pretty much every significant person that ever visited it. The specter of Abraham Lincoln, a man who has been known to haunt quite a few places, has been seen in the guest room unsurprisingly known as the “Lincoln Room.” He’s always wearing a dressing gown and contemplating on the matters of the state.

If a huge, half-dressed ghost of a long-dead president is not terrifying enough, there’s always the phantom of the fearsome General Ulysses S. Grant, sometimes spotted within the fort’s Quarters Number One. Another one of Fort Monroe’s famous ghosts is Varina Davis, the wife of Confederate leader Jefferson Davis, who was imprisoned in the fortress after the South fell. Of course, Jefferson himself is also said to haunt the premises, along with Edgar Allan Poe, of all people.

However, the most famous of the area’s ghosts is not a famous person at all. An area of the fort, aptly known as Ghost Alley, is said to be haunted by the Light Lady. She is a classic White Lady ghost, roaming the areas near Fort Monroe in search of her lost love, surrounded by a fog that seems to glow from within.

Although many of these ghosts seem like classic campfire stories, it is worth noting that sightings have been reported for a long time, often by military personnel of sound mind and stature. Whether we believe these stories or not, the locals are happy to embrace the strange, spectral history of Fort Monroe, to the point where the local history museum happily arranges ghost tours of the place.

3The Disappearance Of The USS Keystone State

On November 9, 1861, a steamer named USS Keystone State disappeared. What made this strange were the circumstances: The Civil War–era ship was nowhere near the battlefronts—the vessel had been unassumingly hauling passengers and iron goods from Detroit to Milwaukee on the Great Lakes of Michigan. What’s more, the USS Keystone State was one of the largest, sturdiest steamers in existence, so its complete disappearance (and presumed sinking) was a surprise.

For over 150 years, the ship’s final fate remained a mystery. Finally, in 2013, a veteran shipwreck hunter found the mighty vessel at the bottom of Lake Huron, where it had lain all those years. It was determined that the USS Keystone State had sunk in a particularly nasty storm.

But why was it attempting to make its voyage during such a terrible storm? Its finder has a possible explanation: It may be that the ship was involved in the war after all, and was actually carrying a large amount of military equipment for a special militia forming in Wisconsin.

2The Confederate Flying Machine

You have probably never heard of Dr. Finley Hunt, but if his invention had worked he’d probably be as famous as any of history’s great inventors. Halfway through the war, Dr. Hunt wrote a letter to Confederate president Jefferson Davis. He had a very special suggestion: He could turn the tide of the war with a steam-powered military flying machine that could bomb the enemy from above—a truly groundbreaking idea at a time when the height of aerial technology was the hot air balloon. Hunt was a dentist by trade, and the Wright Brothers’ first successful flight was still some time away, but Davis became excited about the idea and introduced Hunt to General Robert E. Lee, who put him in contact with the Chief of the Engineer Bureau for the Confederacy. They immediately started researching the idea.

At least on paper, Hunt’s idea was a fairly good one. Sadly, his lack of engineering background proved to be a hindrance to the project, and the Engineer Bureau soon reported that the machine could not be built. Its whole concept might have been lost in the annals of history if its blueprints hadn’t accidentally been found in a bookstore in 2011.

But what if someone built Hunt’s flying machine after all? UFO sightings were commonplace in the later parts of 19th Century, and some have speculated that at least some of these sightings could be because some other aeronautically minded inventor—perhaps one with more engineering talent than Hunt—ironed out the problems in his plans and made their own functional flying machine.

Also, there’s this: While the Bureau dismissed Hunt’s invention as impossible, they absolutely loved his idea of using steam machines for military purposes, and promised to start discussing the idea ”in great measure.” History tells us they never got around to actually building any of these steam weapons, but who knows what war monsters they were secretly working on? If the war had lasted for a few more years, there’s no telling what sort of steampunk machines the South would have unleashed on their unsuspecting opponents.

1The Glowing Soldiers

The Battle of Shiloh was one of the bloodiest in the entire Civil War. It was a constant, two-day struggle that left little time for the medics to tend for the wounded, and the massive amount of wounded soldiers meant that many of them would be left just lying on the battlefield for days. As the wounded men lay in agony, a strange thing happened: Some of their wounds started glowing. The eerie sheen was clearly visible in the dark, and no one could understand what was happening. However, the strangest part happened when the medics actually started treating the wounded: The soldiers with glowing wounds were healing much better than the ones with normal, non-glowing injuries.

The phenomenon soon became known as Angel’s Glow. Its nature remained a mystery, and many suspected the healing shine was actually divine in origin.

The strange secret of Angel’s Glow was finally solved in 2001 by two high school students who were investigating the phenomenon for a science fair project. They figured out that the glow on the wounded soldiers was most likely Panellus stipticus, a ”good” bacteria with bioluminescent properties that was transported to the wounds by the many insects that were infesting them. Although P. stipticus wouldn’t usually survive in human body temperature, it was able to survive in the hypothermic wounded soldiers, allowing it to fight the bad bacteria that were trying to infect their wounds.

http://listverse.com/2014/02/15/10-strange-mysteries-of-the-civil-war/