#starring the cover I made for my copy of Possession

[gaargoyle]

My current much-loved possession, an original 1993 copy of Space Marine. I wanted it for its lovely cover, mostly, (also physical media is supreme) even though it's seen better days. The pretty foil lettering has worn away in spots.

Inside is the timeline that was canon in 1993. You can still get this book today digitally, but I do not know if they include a timeline with it still, and if they do, if they kept it as it was for posterity or made updates.

Transcribed below!

A TIMELINE FOR THE WARHAMMER 40,000 UNIVERSE

15th Millennium - Humanity begins to colonise nearby solar systems using conventional sub-light spacecraft. At first, progress is painfully slow. Separated from Terra by up to ten generations in travel time, the new colonies have to survive mainly on local resources.

The Dark Age of Technology

20th Millennium - Discovery of warp drives accelerates the colonisation process and the early independent or corporate colonies become federated to Terra. The first alien races (including the ubiquitous Orks) are encountered. The development of the Navigator gene allows human pilots to make longer and faster 'jumps' through warp space than was previously thought possible. The great Navigator families, initially controlled by industrial and trading cartels, become a power base in their own right.

Humanity continues to explore and colonise the galaxy. Contacts are established with the Eldar and other alien races. A golden age of scientific achievement begins. Perfection of the Standard Template Construct (STC) system now permits an almost explosive expansion to the stars.

The Age of Strife

25th Millennium - Humanity reaches the far edges of the galaxy, completing the push to the stars begun over ten thousand years before. Human civilisation is now widely dispersed and divergent - with countless small colonies as well as many large, overpopulated planets. Localised wars and disputes with various alien races (especially the Orks!) continue, but pose no threat to the overall stability of human-colonised space. Then, two things happen almost simultaneously. First, humans with psychic powers begin to appear on almost every colonised world. Second, civilisation starts to disintegrate under the stress of widespread insanity, demonic possession, and internecine strife between these new 'psykers' and the rest of humanity. Countless fanatical cults and organisations spring up to persecute the psykers as witches, and/or degenerate mutants. At this time, the existence of the creatures of the warp (later known and feared as demons), and the dangers they pose to the human mind with newly awakened psychic powers, is far from understood.

Terrible wars tear human civilisation apart. Localised empires and factions fight amongst themselves as well as against fleets of Orks, Tyrannids [sic], and other aliens whose forces are quick to seize the opportunity to sack human space. Many worlds fall prey to the dominance of Warp Creatures whilst others revert to barbarism. Humans survive only on those worlds where psykers are suppressed or controlled. During this time, Terra is cut off from the rest of humanity by terrible warp storms, which isolate the home world for several thousand years, further accelerating the ruin of humanity.

The Horus Heresy

30th Millennium - Humanity itself teeters on the brink of the abyss of extinction. Civil war erupts throughout the galaxy as the Emperor of human space is betrayed by his most trusted lieutenant, the Warmaster Horus. Possessed by a demon from the warp, Horus seduces whole chapters of humanity's greatest warriors - the Space Marines - into joining his cause. When the final battle seems lost, the Emperor defeats Horus in single combat, but only at the cost of his own humanity.

His physical life maintained by artificial means, and his psyche by human sacrifice, the Emperor begins the long task of reconquering human space. With the creation by the Emperor of the psychic navigational beacon known as the Astronomican, the foundations are laid for the building of the Imperium, as it to be known in the 41st millennium. Fuelled by the dying spirits of those psykers who would otherwise fall prey to the demons of the warp, and directed by the Emperor's indomitable will, the Astronomican soon becomes an invaluable aid to Navigators throughout the galaxy. Interstellar travel becomes even easier and quicker, while the repression and control of psykers and creatures from the warp releases much of humanity from its hellish bondage.

The Age of the Imperium

41st Millennium - Throughout the portion of the galaxy known as the Imperium, humanity is bound within the organisations and strictures of the Administratum. The Emperor grows ever more detached from the day to day concerns of his mortal subjects, while the Inquisition works ceaselessly to protect humanity from the ever-present dangers posed by renegade psykers and the terrible creatures inhabiting warp space. The armies of the Imperium - the Guard and the almost superhuman Space Marines - maintain a constant vigil against the threat of invading Orks, Tyrannids [sic] and other aliens. But still the number of psykers increases steadily, and other more sinister groups associated with Warp Creature domination continue to gain ground...

[writeroutoftime]

precious secrets (part 2)

part one

pairing: eris vanserra x reader

summary: months later you still find yourself in the night court while your mate is stuck in autumn. but one day, feyre comes by with interesting news.

warnings: none, I promise it's fluff!

words: 1k

a/n: loved writing this so much, and thank you so much for all the support on the first part! also, if you want to request any other scenarios, please send them in!! enjoy!

oOoOo

The cool, night air washed over you as you stood out on the balcony, looking down below at Velaris. Even you had to admit the city was more beautiful in the evening with the stars shining down on its citizens. It had been weeks since your first introduction to the secret city of the Night Court, and, in turn, weeks since you had last seen your mate.

The time away from Eris was torture, made worse by the fact the two of you were only able to keep up minimal communication. Short letters slipped between members of the Night Court when they were able to visit. Feelings of love and support down the bond, but it was never enough. It didn't erase the uneasiness you felt at the thought of Eris alone in his father's grasp.

You heard the laughter and cheer of the Inner Circle inside and clutched your glass of fae wine tighter. While they had all been incredibly welcoming of Eris' secret mate, watching so many pairs of mates love each other happily and openly made you long for your own. Very quickly, you became jealous of Feyre and Rhysand, suddenly wishing you possessed their daemati powers.

'I think of you every day and every night, my love. I know we will be together again soon. Please, stay safe."

With thoughts of Eris' letters in your mind, you sighed and turned from the view and pushed off the balcony. You offered a tight smile to the Inner Circle. "Goodnight."

"Wait, y/n, are you sure you don't want to stay?" Feyre asked, reaching out to gently grab your hand.

"I'll see you in the morning." you reiterated, slipping away from the looks of pity you know that followed you.

As you got yourself ready for bed in your temporary room, your mind raced to Eris. Looking out the window, you wondered if Eris was thinking of you at the same moment. A warm, loving feeling blossomed in your chest, and your hand brushed over your heart.

"Stay safe, love." you whispered before slipping under the covers.

oOoOo

The couch in the library had become a favored spot of yours as you worked your way through the Night Court's collection. You currently were reading one of Nesta's recommendations. She had only smirked when she handed you the copy, and it didn't long to figure out why. Just before you could get to the good part, there was a soft, yet urgent tap against your mind.

Allowing your shields to fall just a hint, you heard Feyre's warm voice fill your mind. "Beron is dead. We just received official word from the Autumn Court not even an hour ago."

Your heart froze in your chest. Beron was dead. Well and truly dead after centuries of keeping his people underneath his tight reign. For the first time in what felt like forever, a weight fell from your shoulders. You could breathe again.

Once your mind was able to process the reality of your situation, you thought of your mate and the possibility of seeing him again. As if you were psychic, you felt a tug at the bonder sharper than it had been in weeks. The book slipped to the floor with a harsh thud without a second thought.

In an instant, you ran down the hallways of River House and found yourself outside the living room. The doors were closed, but for the first time in months, the bond that connected you to Eris sung a beautiful melody. You knew, without a doubt, that your mate stood on the other side of the door.

There was a moment of hesitation as you reached for the handle. It had been months since you and Eris had truly seen each other. How had he changed? How had you changed? But you quickly decided that none of those things mattered. With passion, you pushed open the door and felt yourself freeze.

In the middle of the room stood Eris. His auburn hair was disheveled and the bags under his eyes were as prominent of ever, but underneath it all, you could only see was the male you loved. Hesitantly, you took a step forward, arm outstretched, hovering just inches away from your mate.

"Eris?" you breathed out, afraid it was an illusion which would shatter at any moment. "Are you really here?"

Your mate offered a warm smile and closed the gap between you. "It's me, my love. I promise you this is real." he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulled you flush against his chest.

The scent of cinnamon and fresh autumn air engulfed your senses, providing you with a sense of relief you hadn't felt in ages. Burying your face against his chest, you let your hands roam the expanse of Eris' back holding onto any piece of him possible.

Eventually, you pulled back and glanced up into your mate's amber eyes. "Is it true? He-he's gone?

"He's gone." Eris confirmed, moving to cup your face with his hand, delicately swiping his thumb along your cheekbone. He leaned down to brush his lips against yours after years of yearning for this moment. Your first kiss free from the fear of constantly looking over your shoulders and waiting for the shoe to drop.

Eris broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against yours. "He can no longer control us or our lives, my High Lady."

Your eyes grew wide with shock. "A-are you sure, Eris?"

"There is no one I would rather have my side. I have dreamed of this moment for years, and now, all of Prythian can come to know my smart, strong, beautiful mate that I love with all my heart." Eris stared at you adoringly, bringing your hand up to brush a kiss against your knuckles. "Let's go home, High Lady."

"I thought you'd never say those words, High Lord."

oOoOo

tagging (based on comments from the first part): @fxckmiup, @tele86, @m00n5t0n3, @mybestfriendmademe, @glitterypirateduck

[matan4il]

Update post:

The International Court of Justice has rejected the request of South Africa to stop any future Israeli military activity in Rafah. The provisional measures that were given less than a month ago still stand, and the ICJ determined for now, they're enough, while also saying Israel does have to comply with them (I think it's funny to say Israel has to do something it was already doing, but okay).

After Israeli Minister of Defense presented the names of, and info on, 12 UNRWA workers who were a part of the Hamas massacre, he also shared that at least 30 more UNRWA workers were personally involved in assissting the massacre or participating in post-massacre terrorist activity (such as kidnapping living or murdered Israelis, keeping the hostages imprisoned, or moving them from one hiding place to another). You can find more info on the extensive ties of UNRWA workers with Palestinian terrorist organizations in my UNRWA tag.

In continuation to this, a video was published showing an UNRWA worker, called Faisal Ali Musalam Naami, with the help of another Hamas terrorist, kidnapping the body of a murdered Israeli to Gaza. Israel has indicated that Naami was a social worker, and was eliminated by the IDF on Oct 16. BTW, I saw the vid first airing on Israeli TV before they realized they hadn't blurred the body. I can't even explain what it was like watching it, something about seeing the sagging limbs being dragged just made the whole thing even more inhumane, so the impact is different than if you only watch the blurred vid, as much as I know it was done to preserve the dignity of that murdered man, and as much as I agree with that.

I mentioned the other day that the IDF has arrested at least 60 terrorists from among the people coming out of the Nasser hospital in Khan Younis. This number has now been updated to 100 terrorists. Among them, the Palestinian reporters have claimed that the Nasser hospital director was arrested as well, but the IDF has denied this. In comparison, the IDF announced it officially on Nov 23 when it did arrest the director of the Shifa hospital director due to his collaboration with Hamas.

In addition to IDF soldiers finding a copy of Hitler's Mein Kampf among the possessions of a Hamas terrorist in Gaza, we have now been presented with another antisemitic conspircay book found there. This time, it's a book called (in Arabic) 'End of the Jews' and it was written by Hamas' co-founder, who is also the former Foreign Minister of the Palestinian Authority.

The book's cover is described as showing "swords and daggers piercing through Stars of David, and Jews drowning in blood."

As antisemitism continues to rise all around the world, at the same time that people deny its very nature, the Jewish Book Council has launched an initiative to track down antisemitic incidents targeting Jewish authors, both those who are pro-Israel and those who are accused of it in spite of being silent about the Jewish state, or targeting the Jewish visitors at book events.

In Israel's northern community of Margaliot, a chicken coop was attacked by Hezbollah fire, and an entire flock was killed. In an interview, the coop owner said he doesn't believe the place can be restored. The on going attacks by Hamas on Israel's southern agricultural communities, and by Hezbollah on Israel's northern ones, when taken together, is a real threat to the food security of all 9.8 million Israeli citizens.

This is 35 years old Matan Lior.

He provided the sound, illumination and electricity infrastructure at the Nova music festival. Because of his job there, he was among the last to leave the scene, guiding others to evacuate. When they found his corpse, it was in a car, bending over another women, trying to protect her with his own body. May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭

pairing: jisung x fem!reader x male oc (afab)

genre: producer!jisung/hairstylist!reader. badboy!jisung. enemies to lovers. twin dynamic. cheating/infidelity au. some angst. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. thematic elements. just a tad bit of angst in this, but mainly, it's just degenerate shit. cheating is a big part of this. smut warnings below cut!! 

word count: 4.1k

summary: the han twins are infamous in south korea for being the #1 duo in the country, with han jisoon gifted in rapping and han jisung in producing. jisoon is the best man a girl could ever ask for- and a wonderful boyfriend. it's just too bad that jisung is the one you truly want out of the two brothers. 

18+ warnings: unprotected sex (keep it safe, my friends). kindaa jealousy sex. harddom!jisung. cheating sex. sub!reader. fingering. dom/sub undertones. degradation (slut, whore, etc.). manhandling kink. size kink. humiliation. dumbification. ownership/possession. jisung edges reader a bunch. overstimulation galore. lots of dirty talk. breeding kink!!. subspace. orgasm denial.

a/n: OKAY- SO !!!! 😖 I first got inspired to write this months ago just from watching this edit over and over again. 😩 originally, this was gonna be a chan fic, but I decided to change it to hanji at the last minute, so here we are lol! 😂 honestly, this is kind of an interesting premise for a longer series, so idk... if I'm feeling inspired to, I might expand on this oneshot and make another part to it... lmk if that's smth you guys would be interested in!! 🤎

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

"W-We shouldn't be doing this," you gasped out, feeling the rise of your arousal flooding every part of your mind. It overtook all of your senses - forcing you to see stars, making the blood in your veins boil deliciously, casting visions of rainbows across your mind, flashes of effervescent violet and topaz coating your eyelids. "It's... it's not right." 

The man between your legs was incessant in his movements, pressing your spine a little harder into the shower's cool tiled wall. One hand clamped down onto your hip, nails digging into sensitive flesh there, as he held you up, continuing to hoist your legs around his waist tightly. His other hand was busy at work between your colliding bodies, thumb drawing messy circles around your clit. It was so fucking puffy and felt like it was engulfed in a vat of flames. 

"Why? Because you wanna deny that you're mine? That only I can make you feel this way, only I can fit this pussy so well?" His messy raven locks curled underneath the shower's hot steam, his entire naked form covered in a glistening sheen of suds and sweat and water. "You stay with him- with that prick, but you and I both know that he doesn't bring you to your knees like this- doesn't fuck you as well as I do." 

And the worst part about it- was that you knew he was right. 

Deep down, in the depths of your heart, mind, and spirit, you knew he only spoke the truth. 

That's the thing that killed you the most. 

The Han twins were infamous in the music industry - raising their empire of success from the ground up in the basement of their parent's house when they were just young boys in middle school. As they grew older, they only became better at their crafts - Han Jisoon with his rapping, and Han Jisung with his producing. 

Soon after their 18th birthday, they made their official debut in the Seoul music scene. Instantly, their first track was a complete hit - sweeping the nation with its catchy rhythm and unique rap lines. It was unlike anything anyone had ever heard, and by the time the twins turned twenty-one, they were on track to be the biggest stars of their generation - overtaking all other duos in the industry and winning all the year-end awards. 

You met Jisoon, the singer out of the duo, when you were training to become a hair colorist and he was in his late twenties. One day, a mysterious man came into your salon in Hongdae. Soon after you heard your teacher talk about who he was to some of the other stylists there - you realized that the man you would be working with was none other than the biggest star in the country at the moment. 

Instantly, there was a connection between the two of you. His smiles were so warm, the way he spoke to you so soft and delicate, his laugh contagious. His happiness was infectious, and like a drug, you began to think of nothing but him. After work that day, you came home to watch all of his performances and interviews, completely captivated by his persona. 

As it turns out, he decided to use your salon for his monthly appointments - and soon, after you graduated with your specialty license in hair color, you became his personal hair colorist. 

It didn't take long after that until you two grew a deep connection, and then he was asking for your number before he took you out on your first date together, and the rest... was history.  

Honestly, he was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. He was so fucking kind and sweet and considerate. He wasn't selfish in the least bit and always wanted the best for you. And when you told him you wanted to keep things on the down-low in regards to your relationship, he heeded your wishes. Over the three years that you two had been dating, not a single word had gotten out to the press about your relationship. Sure, his fans speculated about his relationship status, but no one ever came out with any hard evidence of his true girlfriend.

He had even met your parents during Chuseok soon after your first anniversary, much to their delight. He brought over gifts for your mother and spent time out on your father's boat fishing in the early morning even though he hated fishing and always got seasick. Your mother fell in love with him during your trip, and wouldn't stop talking about the expensive rice cakes he had brought her for that holiday season. Your father also took a keen liking to him, saying he enjoyed having a fishing partner, which was your father's way of saying that he approved of your choice of a man.

All of your friends loved Han Jisoon too. Your best friend, Ryujin, was obsessed with your relationship - and was always checking up on the two of you. She was just chomping at the bit for him to propose, and every Christmas that passed, she claimed that 'next year, he'll do it on New Year- I swear to you that he will.' 

Jisoon liked to hang out with you and your friends when his schedule allowed him to, and you did the same with his large group of friends. Granted, most of his connections were either famous producers or other popular singers, but still - you liked the fact that he wasn't afraid to introduce you to the important people in his life. Because all of it made you feel important to him.

Not to mention all of the gifts he got you - sending you huge bouquets of your favorite flowers when he was away on tour, and sending you little gifts here and there 'just because.' Like the box of chocolates during a particularly shitty day of your period, or the small teddy bear that was programmed with his voice and said 'I love you,' that he bought for you during one of his promotional business trips to Taiwan. 

Overall, he was the best person you had ever met. He was funny and quirky and so fucking entertaining to be around. Not to mention talented- he could write thirty lines of rap within an hour, something you never could get over even after years of knowing him. He was perpetually changing his hair color too, thanks to your help - and for the past year, he had been rocking a dusty blonde look. He also loved to dress in bright colors and wasn't one to shy away from all the new fashion trends.

So... everything must've been amazing, right? 

You had a beautiful, unique boyfriend who fucking adored you and practically worshipped the ground you walked on. 

So then, what was the problem? 

Well, for one thing, the root of the entire bane of your existence was his twin brother, Han Jisung. 

With his perpetually messy black hair, onyx eyes, and scowl he always seemed to wear no matter what. You had never seen him dressed in anything other than dark clothes - grays and blacks only. 

His temperament matched his outward appearance, with his downright rude personality at times and his snide comments that were always directed towards you. He was an absolute thorn in your ass and he loved being one. 

He and your boyfriend couldn't be more different from each other, and you were almost surprised when you first met him after you and Jisoon first started dating. Because... they were such stark opposites of each other it was almost comical. 

But Jisoon loved his brother, despite his flaws and all, and since they had an entire career together, you were forced to share space with your boyfriend's other half. When Jisoon would invite you over to the studio late at night to listen to some of the new lyrics he had written, there Jisung was. Sitting at the desk in the recording studio, directing everything and making changes to the track... just brooding for a fight.

When he worked, Jisung was even more serious than his normal day-to-day persona; changing into this silent, man with a menacing kind of aura surrounding him as he sat behind a huge desk in their shadowy recording studio. 

You'd be turned on by the sight of it all if you were dating Jisoon - his twin brother. 

But as it turns out, life has a funny way of playing tricks on you... 

On your mind and heart and everything you had grown accustomed to. 

And before you even realized it was happening, your dynamics were changing. No longer was it you and Jisoon against Jisung. Slowly but surely, throughout your relationship, you somehow grew closer to your boyfriend's twin brother. 

It started with him being a little nicer to you randomly during your visits to the recording studio, or during the luncheons you'd sometimes attend with your boyfriend and his entire crew. 

Han Jisung turned out to be kind of... nice. 

Despite all of his flaws and rude mannerisms. 

But even so, he was still an asshole, he was still annoying most of the time and a total prick. He liked to get under your skin, and wiggle around in there - teasing you just enough to the point where you were close to blowing up at him. But he always pulled back eventually. 

Almost like, he enjoyed the thought of edging you irrevocably, for years on end. 

Things came to a screeching halt though, when the twins were on tour and Jisoon invited you to tag along with him to their dates in Japan. Not wanting to deny the offer since you had always wanted to visit the country, you joined him during the four days that he and Jisung would be in Tokyo. 

At first, everything was going smoothly. 

Their rehearsal the night before their first show went well, and you enjoyed sightseeing with your boyfriend after he was finished with preparations. After the two of you got back to your hotel, Jisoon quickly fell asleep in your shared queen-sized bed, completely exhausted from his busy schedule. 

And then somehow, you had found yourself roaming the halls of the luxurious hotel, stumbling upon a small alcove in the back of the spacious place, fit with a self-serve mini bar and a few velvet-lined seats overlooking the glittering night's cityscape. 

But the person who was sitting in one of those seats was the thing that surprised you the most, with his black tresses and even darker stare. He regarded you with a tilt of his head, swishing around the ice in his crystal glass that was filled with dark bourbon. 

Pathetically, it only took you three drinks in. 

Perhaps the red wine they served at the hotel's mini bar was more potent than the stuff you were used to in South Korea. 

Or, perhaps you were just as exhausted as your boyfriend Jisoon from spending the day traveling across the city and sightseeing.

But before you knew it, you had somehow migrated onto Jisung's lap, allowing him to place his palms on your ass that was just barely covered by the mini skirt you had changed into to tour the city with Jisoon earlier that night. 

"I have a boyfriend, Jisung," you had said, as the man before you leaned in a little closer to your form. Nose coming close to your exposed neck, he had breathed in a deep sigh. Your spine shuttered from how near he was to you. Nearer than the two of you had ever been before. "Jisoon- he- he loves me." 

After that, Jisung looked up at you with a raised eyebrow, a dark, familiar look twirling right there in his eyes. He stared on at you in silence, before he let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Oh please- you couldn't give a flying fuck about my brother. Especially not when you're with me..." 

The moment his lips had come in contact with your skin, you melted instantly - like a bar of milk chocolate being held over the high flames of a fire. The fire ended up being him, his heat engulfing you as his mouth came around the spot between your clavicle and neck, teeth biting down there slowly, tongue darting out and licking ever so slightly. 

"I've seen the way you stare- you're practically begging me to fuck you at any chance that we're together," Jisung had grunted out, his mutterings fanning against your skin and making the butterflies erupt even faster in the pit of your stomach. "Such a little whore- why have one brother when you can have two, right?" 

After that, you were trying to push him away. Palms on his muscular chest, you tried to move off of his lap. But his digits just dug in harder to the supple flesh of your asscheeks, and when you moved slightly, you could feel the hardness of his middle gently hitting up into your warm center. 

In the end, you couldn't deny the wetness that was slowly growing in your panties. But you could sure try your damndest to forget about it all. "I'm dating someone else, we... can't..." Your voice trailed off after that, as his mouth traced up the column of your neck, pressing light, heart-fluttering kisses against your jawline and the corner of your mouth. 

"Too bad you're such a horrible fucking liar then," Jisung said in a low voice, staring into your eyes and giving you that look - the one he always leveled your way when he was officially done with your bullshit. "Too bad I can no longer ignore the wetness that's growing between your legs- ignore the way you press these cute little pussy lips together each time I make you squirm with my taunting." 

In the next instant, he was pressing his mouth against yours, swallowing up your groan of surprise, quieting the moans that threatened to slip free from deep inside of you when his tongue danced against yours. 

Turns out, he was right. 

Without even really realizing it, you had been taunting him. 

For fucking years. 

With your combativeness, and playful banter. Not to mention, the long stares and shifting in your seat every time he made you feel... bothered.

He was like a powerful magnet, something you couldn't deny the pull of any longer. 

Your kiss there on the chair in the hotel alcove turned into something heated and disastrous, and soon, you found yourself locked up in Han Jisung's hotel room - hands pinned against the soft downy mattress as his thick cock ripped you right open. He drew the filthiest of sounds out from the depths of your soul as he pounded into you completely raw, fucking you well into the night. He edged you for hours - just like he did in your regular lives - before bringing you over the brink of five different orgasms. 

The sex with your boyfriend Jisoon was good, 

but nothing could compare to the way that Jisung made you feel that night. 

How filled up you had felt - completely whole in every way possible. 

Usually, the sex with your boyfriend was fairly quick, very vanilla, and in the same three positions. 

Meanwhile, Jisung had you in all kinds of ways that night - knees, back, stomach. You name it, he somehow coaxed you into it. 

And afterward, after he finished coating every crevice and surface of your insides and outsides in his seed and sweat and saliva, Han Jisung helped to clean you up. The two of you lay side by side in his bed for a little bit, soon after he had wiped your skin clean. 

No words had been spoken between the two of you then, but you just felt, that nothing had to be said. The deed had been done. You had gotten over the hardest part. 

And now... there was no going back. 

When you had crept back to the room you were sharing with your boyfriend and laid down beside him just as the clock was about to strike five in the morning, you realized that things were completely ruined. 

Nothing would ever be the same again - because no one would ever compare...

To the way Jisung made you feel that night, and how he had made you feel over the past few years, without you even fucking realizing it. 

Slowly, as you lay there underneath the covers, hair disheveled and the marks of Jisung's lips littered across your body - your legs and arms and pussy sore from his arduous, heated attention - the tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes unchecked. You stared at the back of Jisoon, your boyfriend, and cried yourself into a listless kind of sleep, void of any dreams or thoughts. 

"I'm sorry, babe," you had whispered to his sloped shoulders, just before your eyes had slipped shut in finality in the early morning rays of sunlight for that day. "I'm so fucking sorry..." 

Three weeks after they were finished with their Japanese leg of the tour, and back home in Seoul resting before they finished up with their encore concert in America, Jisung paid a visit to the apartment you shared with Jisoon in the heart of Gangnam. Your boyfriend was out for the day, visiting his parents for the rare break that they had in their schedules. 

The moment you opened your door and saw him standing there on the step, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. But the two of you didn't have to say anything, because you already knew. 

Things had been ruined the moment you stumbled upon him late at night in that hotel, all those weeks ago. 

That day, you christened every surface of your apartment with your mixed essence. Every place you could imagine, Jisung fucked you on: the kitchen counter, the living room couch, the dining room table, against the front door, in the shower, on the study room's floor, and perhaps worst of all... in your very own bed. The one you had shared with your boyfriend, who was also Jisung's twin brother, for years.  

The sex that day was mind-blowing and cataclysmic, as Jisung led you over the brink of so many orgasms, you lost count after the third one. By the time the two of you were finished and the sun was beginning to set, you were so deep into an odd limbo state of mind that you couldn't even form a coherent thought or sentence. 

And like a thief leaving in the middle of the night, like a ghost visiting you for only a time, Jisung just kissed you goodbye, promising he'd come back soon, and left you in your apartment right before your boyfriend came back. 

He left you as a pile of messy hair, weak limbs, and a murky mind, sprawled out across your bed, completely naked and littered with bite marks and violet hickies. You managed to throw a nightgown on before your boyfriend came home and saw you that night. 

You were so fucking ashamed, but no matter how bad you felt about it all, you couldn't stop yourself. And apparently, Jisung couldn't either. You two were drawn to each other, for whatever reason. And no external factor - even the idea of a long-term boyfriend - was going to stop the trainwreck that you were slowly causing with your secret meetings. 

Over time, the periods spent with your boyfriend's twin brother bled together into a fever dream of passion and the greatest sex you had ever experienced in your life. Any chance you could get alone with each other, with your boyfriend nowhere in sight, the two of you were fucking...

In the recording studio, during the rehearsal for a TV appearance, at the hair salon you worked at, in the bathroom during a late-night dinner with their company. And soon, you found yourself falling into a weird kind of rhythm with Han Jisung. Half of the time, you spent it with your boyfriend, Jisoon. And the other half, you spent it with Jisung... fucking and delving into each other in all different ways. 

Your time spent with the other brother became so intense and all-consuming that you lost track of how long it had been since everything had started. And that's how you found yourself that specific Friday night, with your boyfriend spending the night at the studio working on a recording. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to him, his twin brother was between your legs. 

Jisung had already taken you wholly atop the dining room table earlier that night after you had finished eating the takeout he had brought over. Once you were done chewing your orange chicken and fried rice, the dark-haired man was upon you with a vengeance - ripping off your panties and pushing you atop the wooden table. His fingers had this magic touch to them, and within just a few minutes, with a couple of practiced strokes, he always brought you over the edge in a blinding light of arousal. 

After he was finished with you on the table, you two took a shower together and somehow... he ended up inside of you, once again, for the millionth time in a row. 

"W-What about Jisoon..." You whined out, head bumping against the tile wall at your back with every hard thrust of Jisung up into you. His cock stretched you out so deliciously, and you ground your hips against his, loving the feel of his hand clamped down on your clit, rubbing at it with a rabid kind of heat. "He... He'll die if he finds out, Ji..." 

He flashed you a swarthy, devilish kind of smirk, before he leaned into you, pressing his teeth against your shoulder and biting down on your clavicle. Tongue coming out to press against the purple spot left there, he chuckled lowly. "Oh, just shut up already- I think we're past the point of you giving a fuck about him." 

And then you were clutching onto his wet locks even harder, as he drilled his cock so far deep into you, entire galaxies and other worlds flashed across your vision. Gasping out in pure bliss, you moaned out his name breathlessness, your whines getting swallowed up by the sound of the running showerhead above you. 

"Yeah, that's right... moan my name, bitch," Jisung coaxed in a deep voice, his thumb drawing figure eights around your puffy clit as his cock fucked the squelching juices back into you. "We both know this - us - is never ending... either you leave that fucker, or he finds me fucking you one of these days and everything turns to shit. Your choice." 

You were so fucked out, mind fuzzy with arousal and the pit of your stomach on fire from all of the feeling coursing through your system that you could barely form a coherent sentence. Even still, you managed to crack your eyes open just a tad bit to level Jisung with a serious frown. "N-No... never- don't want to ruin this..." The breath caught in the middle of your throat as the tip of his rigid cock hit that soft spot deep inside of you, making your legs shake around his waist, cunt clenching around his length. 

"Then take everything, you slut- be a good little whore and take daddy's cock," Jisung commanded out in a stern tone, pounding into you incessantly and making your ass bounce back and forth against the shower wall. "Open wider for me, baby doll- wanna see this pretty pussy of yours bulging with my cock." 

As always, you did what he commanded of you. Spreading your legs wider and hugging them a little closer around his hips, your head shot back against the tile of the shower wall when you felt Jisung's cock prodding into you. 

He pushed down on your lower belly, feeling the way his thick cock rubbed up into you so far, he bulged out against the seams and the outline of him displayed deep inside of you. "Oh fuck- such a cute pussy... fits me so fucking well..." Jisung said in a low voice, as he rubbed a little harder against your clit with his thumb. Meanwhile, his dick was reaching all new lengths inside of you, drawing out a flurry of moans from between your lips. "J-Just a little longer... just hold on a little more, 'kay kitten?"  

And in the end, you heeded his commands. All of them. You did everything he wanted, because truthfully- you couldn't help yourself. Couldn't deny him, no matter what. 

Fin.

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[vesperpharsalius]

I read the quote you posted from golden son and I didn’t immediately read the tags so I was going crazy because I remembered the scene differently, but since I have only read GS translated in my language I thought it was a translation change. But now I feel dumb because what are the RR snippets I need more of whatever that was because that was beautiful, the lancelot part got me screaming crying and throwing up. please help😭

Thanks for the ask!

My copy of Red Rising (which is just a standard American mass–market paperback I bought back in 2016) has a teaser for Golden Son at the end, excerpts from Ch. 11–12, which cover the Gala.

It is mostly consistent with the corresponding parts of GS, with less dialogue and detail and overall polishing than the actual book, but there’s the occasional thing that got cut or changed in the final version. Strangely, the teaser at the end of my GS is identical to its corresponding scene in Morning Star—it’s the prologue—so I’m not sure whether this was deliberate.

Here’s the official version of THAT scene:

He of the bloodydamn golden curls is with the girl who nursed me to health in the winter, who helped me remember Eo's dream. His hand on her waist. His lips whispering into her ear. As surely as Cassius au Bellona put a sword in my stomach, he now sticks a dagger in my heart. His hair thick and lustrous. His chin cleft, hands steady. Shoulders powerful, made for war. Face made for the hearts of court. And he wears the rising sun of the Morning Knight. The rumors are true. It rips through the party. The Sovereign has made him one of the twelve. Despite the fact that I won the Institute, he's risen higher, tearing through the Dueling Circuit on Luna like an ancestor possessed. I've watched him on the HC, watched him stalk around the Bleeding Place as another Gold lies near death. But here, now, he dazzles, charms. Face split with a white smile. In his Golden body he has all I have and more. He is faster on his feet than I. As tall. More handsome. Wealthier. He has a better laugh and people think him kinder. Yet he has none of my burdens.

And this is the teaser from RR:

He of the bloodydamn golden curls is with the girl who nursed me to health in the winter, who helped me remember Eo's dream. His hand on her waist. His lips whispering into her ear. As surely Cassius au Bellona put a sword in my stomach, he now sticks a dagger in my heart. His hair thick and lustrous. His chin cleft. His hands steady. Form powerful. Shoulders made for war. Face made for the women of court. And he wears a crown badge. The Sovereign has taken him for one of her lancers. Despite the fact that I won at the Institute, he's risen higher, tearing through the Dueling Circuit on Luna like an ancestor possessed. I've watched him on the HC, watched him stalk around the Bleeding Place as another Gold lies near death. He stalks like a famished beast as if one life cannot sate the hunger that roils inside him. Here, now, he dazzles, charms. Face split with a white smile, he is the man fit for stories of romance, a Lancelot galloping from myth to steal a woman who could have been, but never was, my Guinevere. His is a charmed birth. He has all I have in his Golden body and more. He is faster on his feet than I. As tall. He is more handsome. Wealthier. A golden knight. He has a better laugh and people think him kinder. He does not have my burdens.

As you can see, the final version is a little more eloquent and better–worded. The teaser is rawer and a little clumsier. But… whoever cut the Lancelot and insatiable beast bits out should go to Deepgrave, fr, because they’re just 🤌🏽

With the exception of THAT scene, the differences are minor, the Final Cut being obviously superior and often opulent by comparison. Still, there are some notable omissions that didn’t make it, like:

A brief but important conversation between Darrow and Karnus (where he guzzles like, four glasses of wine in less than a minute; Eagle Rest needs an AA chapter, apparently) about butter, in which they establish that A) Lunese food has too much butter and not enough salt and that B) butter is disgusting and makes them feel like pigs.

Karnus also mentions that Julian loved butter so much he ate it by the stick, alone. Wtf, Julian.

Darrow also remarks at one point that A) Martians pride punctuality and always arrive on time, that B) Venusians disdain it and are always fashionably late, and that C) Lunese either come first or last, to keep people guessing and mess with their heads, ofc.

(I like to imagine the Raa being equally punctual and Dido coming to dinner two hours late wearing a diaphanous dress and body glitter, getting criminally offensive side–eye.)

Secret canon facts! Reblog for Lancelot Cassius and Carny Julian.

[peytons-depression-land]

With BlackBerry, Matt Johnson continues to show no other director has a better understanding of our modern, media-molded minds

For those unfamiliar, Matt Johnson is a 37-year-old Canadian indie filmmaker, whose new film BlackBerry, which he co-wrote, directed, and co-stars in, was released this past week. BlackBerry charts the rise and fall of the Canadian creators and company behind the once ubiquitous “BlackBerry” smart phone, a device that’s now a relic to the pre-iphone aughts. The film chronicles the triumphs and tribulations of the phone’s creators, underdog nerds Mike Lazaridis and Dough Fregin, and cutthroat businessman and Blackberry co-CEO Jim Balsillie, who both launched the phone to its successes and helped destroy all they created. Johnson’s previous features are The Dirties, a found footage dark comedy/drama about the lives of two film obsessed high schoolers leading up to a school shooting, and Operation Avalanche, a period thriller about low level CIA agents faking the moon landing – a film in which said agents con their way into NASA, which Johnson and his crew actually did in real life when making the low budget indie film. However, Johnson’s most iconic work, and most beloved by many, is his mockumentary comedy series, which started as a web series and was later adapted to TV, Nirvanna the Band the Show. The series details the misadventures and schemes of a fictionalized version of Johnson and his friend, musician Jay McCarrol, as they try to get their band – Nirvanna the Band – a show at the Toronto restaurant and music venue “The Rivoli.” You might know this series from the now famous "Update Day" clip in which the duo sing along to the Wii shop music. In 2021, Johnson and McCarrol even made a three-episode animated children’s spin off of Nirvanna the Band, titled Matt and Bird Break Loose. A unifying aspect of much of Johnson's work is his narrative documentary style of filmmaking, often employing real people in Sacha Baron Cohen-style moments.

Something about me: I'm kind of a Matt Johnson obsessive. Any time I meet someone from Canada under the age of 40, I ask them if they've heard of Matt Johnson or Nirvanna the Band the Show. I have multiple back-up hard drives with the complete web series and TV seasons of Nirvanna the Band because it's impossible to get/find now in the US. Anytime I'm in a large media store that sells 2nd hand movies (like Amoeba Records), I religiously spend time searching to see if, by some small chance, they have one of the physical copies of The Dirties (the ones with the variant covers that look like Criterion Collection covers) - it's kinda my physical media holy grail. My DVD of Operation Avalanche is one of my most prized possessions. Hell, I’ve even tried my hand at replicating Johnson’s style numerous times, a short film I made while at film school abroad in France being the main example. So, suffice to say: I was very excited for Blackberry.

With BlackBerry Johnson is making significant stylistic and scale leaps from his previous works, “making it to the big leagues” as someone more confident than me with sports metaphors might say. It’s a bigger movie than he’s made before, getting a limited national release here in the US, by a major indie distributor (IFC), starring two sizeable, well-known actors (It’s Always Sunny in Philidelphia’s Glenn Howerton and comedy mainstay Jay Baruchel). All this far from the rag-tag, small scale, underground nature of his previous works, where the cast was the filmmakers and the biggest names involved were Vice (and its since defunct TV network) and Kevin Smith whose company distributed The Dirties. Stylistically, BlackBerry makes the jump from Johnson’s previous found footage/mockumentary movie (both terms sounding far more derisive to the idiosyncratic style of Johnson’s films than I’d like) to a fully “traditional” narrative feature. With both The Dirties and Operation Avalanche, as well as NTBTS, the characters are involved in the actual act of filmmaking, for one reason or another, and aware of the camera filming them, the cameramen being acknowledged entities. The footage you’re watching is filmed, edited, and staring the characters on screen. But, with BlackBerry, besides a fun visual gag from Glenn Howerton at the beginning of the film, the cameras exist as they would in any normal movie – invisible watchers of the events.

What makes BlackBerry and Johnson’s filmmaking so great though is that he doesn’t just abandon all semblance of his style and aesthetic, becoming some bland gun for hire, like so many indie directors plucked from festival success to helm the next cinematic toy line for Marvel. Instead, he finds ways to work his style into this more traditional film in compelling ways. While the camera is no longer literally in the story, it still hovers around the characters, with longtime Johnson DP Jared Raab often shooting through the obstruction of windows, from far away, and with the back of heads in the foreground. The camera zooms and focuses in and out of different characters and things in the moment, cinema verité style, Johnson describing in a Q&A for the film having been influenced by documentaries like Pennebaker and Hegedus’ The War Room. The looming, documentary-like camera works perfectly for this constantly manic story of slap dash, neurotic tech wizzes and on edge CEO sociopaths, the camera matching the characters nature. For this story of greed, corporate malignancy, and the loss of ideals, the camera’s living style also feels like what you’re watching is covert, hacked CCTV footage. It makes the viewer feel like they’re seeing what actually happened: secret footage from inside the office, fly on the wall stuff, intimate to these people and these conflicts.

True to the overarching motif in Johnson’s work of media’s permanent place in our cultural language and experience, Blackberry is filled visual references to other movies: from a non-diegetic montage of famous sci-fi technology over the opening credits, to scenes of the lovable band of “Research in Motion” nerds enjoying movie nights of Raiders of the Lost Ark and They Live, to movie posters lining the walls of the RIM offices and featured on Doug’s t-shirts. Johnson perfectly described how necessary referencing other media was to his film when he explained “Pop culture that we think of as just nerdy ephemera, I believe sincerely, winds up dictating what technologists create that will become the future.” Well timed needle drops help ground the work in its specific world of a nerds 1996, 2003, and 2007, and frequent Johnson collaborator (and aforementioned co-star of Nirvanna the Band) Jay McCarrol brings a pumping synth score, not too dissimilar to Trent Reznor’s work in The Social Network, but with a uniquely quirkier, lo-fi essence that fits perfectly with the indie feel of both the film itself and its subject matter.

Thankfully we’re not entirely deprived of Johnson’s charismatic, comedic screen presence in BlackBerry. While not the Orson Wells-style leading man both in front of and behind the camera he was in his previous works, he still features in Blackberry as the third of our main 3 characters, Doug Fregin, co-engineer/creator of the famous phone, who acts in a way as the film’s audience surrogate. Despite Doug being a “goof” as Balsillie describes him, he’s the heart of the main three characters, the moral center to which we compare Balsillie’s shrewd cunning, lies, and manipulations, and Lazaridis’s tragic moral downfall from tech idealist to bottom-line businessman. Doug is undoubtedly a character in the typical “Johnsonian mold” - a movie quoting, John Carpenter t-shirt and sweatband wearing, ninja turtle loving hyperactive who uses Star Wars references in business meetings. In fact, the character seems molded in the film more on Johnson than the real man, given that, as Johnson explained, he’s a “true cipher… has never done a taped interview,” leaving Johnson with room for interpretation.

However, while Johnson delivers a more lighthearted, comedy performance, as a director he pulls some impressive dramatic performances from Howerton and Baruchel. It’s true that the movie is, at its core, a dark comedy, so there’s some great comedy in the lead performances, Howerton delivering that trademark snark and unhinged rage his Always Sunny character has become known for and Baruchel with his awkward nerdiness. I have no doubt Howerton’s scene in which he, in a rage, screams “I’m from Waterloooooo! Where the vampires hang out!” - in a moment that must be seen to be believed - will become a quoted classic before long. But the characters aren’t just farce Social Network parodies, they have depth and drama to them, a credit to Johnson’s directing and Howerton and Baruchel’s acting. You feel Balsillie’s underlying insecurity and attraction to power that drives him. You hurt seeing Lazaridis slowly turning into what he once stood against and the tragedy of him reaching his ethical “point of no return” when he agrees to the BlackBerry touchscreen phone being manufactured overseas, in order to meet budget and deadline. We also get some delightful supporting performances from the likes of Saul Rubinek, Rich Sommer, Cary Elwes, and Michael Ironside as an imposing, rotund, bolo tie wearing, hard ass COO.

BlackBerry is a tragic tale of ambition and passion succumbing to ego and greed, and in so it’s not only a movie about the tech sector, but also about the struggle of making art. Lazaridis struggles, and ultimately fails, to maintain integrity while creating a technology he loves and believes in against a world run by people like Balsillie who only seek profit and status, quality be damned as long as it sells. Anyone who makes art, especially films, is up against the same problem. There will always be Mike Lazaridis and Matt Johnson’s, there will always be Jim Balsillie’s and David Zaslav’s, and there will always be a struggle between the two: art and commerce. The tragedy comes when the creator, like Lazaridis, loses their principles, and begins creating not for the love of it, but out of obligation and out of profit. The triumphs come when the creator finds a way to take what they love, what they’re good at, and what is meaningful to them, - their vision - and deliver it to the masses with the heart intact, as Johnson has done throughout his career, now with BlackBerry more than ever. It’s up to the creator to stand fast and endure to create their meaningful works, as oftentimes the sharks will get along either way, as we see in the end credits with Balsillie, who avoided any jail time for his stock fraud committed while co-CEO of BlackBerry.

While I don’t think they're for everybody, Matt Johnson's works capture the modern media deluged culture that we all exist in better than any other modern artist or filmmaker. His movies are always about movies, whether they narratively are or not, just as our lives have become subsumed by media consumption, regurgitation, and reinterpretation. We now live in a world where almost every movie and TV show is at our fingertips 24/7 - a religion, the upgrade to dreaming, the codex we classify our existence on - and his film-making style and characters reflect that. The characters, especially the characters Johnson portray, speak in a lingua franca of movies quotes. His camera is alive and involved in the action, often literally, just as our cameras and screens are every day. His editing blends the real world with the movie world, blurring the lines. His movies are not documentaries, but they’re certainly not just fiction, something in between, a dreamlike blend for our media-soaked minds. I’ve never been one good at the rigid definitions of “modernism” and “post modernism” in art, but I have to believe Johnson is the cutting edge of whatever “post-post-post…Modern” stage we’re at currently. The Dirties is about media’s role in the lives of a youth more connected but also alienated than ever before. Operation Avalanche takes the uniquely western art form of film and uses it to represent how governments often use media to manufacture their own fictions to control the public narrative. Nirvanna the Band the Show shows how media influences our everyday lives, friendships, personalities, and dreams. And now BlackBerry serves as a cautionary tale for the fate an artist can fall to if they let their work become a product instead of a passion and art. As we drift further into the oblivion of inevitable ecological, political, social collapse, media becoming the God of our reality, Matt Johnson is our guru, beaming our media-soaked psyche back on to the screen, creating innovative, funny, compelling stories of life through the lens of a movie-fed world.

[lightningzbolt]

Four Types Of Makeup, Awsten Knight, Zombie Eyes, And More

That title makes it sound more exciting than it really is. Well, multiple things here, some made out of necessity, others for fun. First up and above is what I creatively named 'AwstenMakeup' as that's who it's for and I don't know what else to call it. 4 Swatches, 2 of the green cross things and 2 types of stars. I eyeballed a few pics and made basic shapes in Inkscape and used GIMP to further size and place them and they turned out fine enough for me. Also looks good on Werewolves because, well, he is one. :)

My initial color swatches may not be the best, in fact for ingame I made them darker, but this is makeup and has sliders so you can do that yourself. This isn't the hair he normally has in my game and I made it all myself but I need to revise the files and colors before I share them. Eyeshadow slot.

SimFileShare

Next up is what I call 'DeadEyes' as, well, they're for zombie makeup. I 'needed' something like this as I wanted to copy Alex's zombie getup in this music video, saw nothing like it anywhere, so I just made my own. A bunch of swatches as I couldn't figure out what size and color looked best ingame. I also started with a base of vanilla eye bag texture to get placement correct, and I just kept that in as the first swatch. Eyeshadow slot.

Gotta say, Strangerville Possession is close enough to Zombiism.

SimFileShare

Next one is in the same outfit, I converted a vanilla Face Paint, I think from Get Famous? To the Blush slot as I wanted to combine it and those Face Paint eye contacts to add more dirt look, but all the original swatches are there. Yeah in case you want this too. Blush slot.

SimFileShare

Last one was kind of a spur of the moment thing. I was looking through and cataloging every single CAS category from Sims 4 Studio's list to learn about what eevry slot does, what species use them, etc, and I found 'Skin Overlay', which turned out t be all the stuff like the sickness affects and the weird paint and the new mold. I figured they might be fun as makeup in the rare chance you wanna pretend your sim is sick or something or just wanna cover them in paint idk. I made the paint and mold overlays go over the clothes as I'm pretty sure they're meant to. Well I saw the paint go under and that looked dumb. Sliders make it fun. They are, as they say. Face Paint category.

SimFileShare

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Earth & Fire

Chapter I - The end of everything

04/10/2023

Pairing: Hades (Hozier) x Anthea (OFC)

Word Count: 3,943

Warnings: attempted rape, angst, violence, nudity

Summary: As the All-father, Zeus is used to getting whatever his heart—or loins—desire. But when his attention falls upon Hephaestus’ daughter, for the first time he is met with unexpected resistance.

A/N: I had a blast writing this. Enjoy!

Earth & Fire - Masterpost

Picture by Mark Olsen via Unsplash (cropped)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

Despite his elevated position in the pine tree, a pair of sharp eyes drew in every single detail about her naked form. From her tantalising curves and the petite mole that decorated her behind to the tiny hairs that stood erect all over her body as she entered the gentle waves. They were lapping at her skin, swallowing inch after inch and for once he found himself envying his brother, who, if he had felt the same torturing ache in his loins as he himself did now, could have easily taken the sweet diversion this woman promised before she would even know what came over her. Her consent wouldn’t matter. He wanted her, needed to have her, to move inside her, possess her in every way possible, and who was she to deny the king of the gods his satisfaction? A nobody, nothing but a mere mortal, she should be thankful that he had singled her out and even considered sating his hunger on someone as lowly her. 

True, her beauty and voluptuousness were rare. They had mislead him at first. If he didn’t know better, he would have guessed she was a goddess, a fertility goddess perhaps, or at least the descendant of one. But then he had found out who she was and felt foolish for thinking so highly of her. She truly was a nobody, an orphan, left at the doorstop of her foster father, unwanted and abandoned even by her own flesh and blood. Her only luck had been that the man had such a soft heart. He had taken her in without hesitation and loved her like his own, the sappy fool. Maybe she reminded him of his own fate or he saw her as his only chance of a happy family, one he had never had as a child. Whatever it was, this circumstance made it almost impossible to fulfil his burning aspiration.

Almost. 

Because even though the All-father was not known for his patience, he had planned this day meticulously. Not long now, before Hephaestus would leave his home, before she would be on her own, unprotected and ready for the plucking. He shuddered as another wave of desire rippled through him, and there was nothing he could have done to prevent his mighty wings from flapping excitedly as a shriek of pure anticipation pierced the silence of the morning.

Immediately she turned, her eyes finding his white head amidst the sea of green at first glance. He knew he should have taken off, it would have seemed only natural, but instead he stayed put, hypnotised by her sudden motion and the quiver of her full bosom it had caused, the two hardened buds urging him to close his mouth around them and suck until she would beg for his mercy. 

More and more of her form ascended from the water, glowing like liquid gold in the morning sun until finally a triangle of short curls was revealed. Another pulse of desire electrified his whole body. He felt dizzy, his want for her almost too much to bare, even for a god, and it cost him every last bit of self-restraint not to discard his careful plan and take her right here and now.

He didn’t even notice the low growl of thunder in the distance or the rustling of the pine cones around him, it was only when she had secured the white fabric above her shoulders and her nakedness was finally covered from his view that he snapped out of his trance. She was still starring up at him as she hurried to get away from the beach. 

He kept on watching, following her with his eyes until the thick underbrush had swallowed her and as soon as she was gone, he couldn’t help the unease from growing when he recalled the notion in her eyes the moment she had spotted him in the trees. What if she knew? What if all his patience and plotting had been in vain? Ruined by one moment of carelessness. A carelessness she was entirely to blame for. The things she did to him. He would make sure she would compensate him generously for all the agony she had caused. 

Not long now. Not long.

With a sigh he tightened the last leather strap around his leg. He already hated it. It wasn’t so much that the leg brace felt uncomfortable. It did. But the memories it awakened were far worse than any discomfort it could have caused. 

Luckily there was no need to wear it at home. He managed well enough around the house and at the workshop, and neither he nor Anthea minded the slight limb in his step when he didn’t wear his orthesis. But he didn’t intend on granting Zeus the satisfaction of seeing him like this. He would consider it a weakness, an affirmation for his decision to throw him off Mount Olympus as a child even though it had been that very act of brutality which had made him a cripple in the first place.

Zeus. That jealous oaf. A child in the body of a mighty god. How anyone could have ever agreed to make him the ruler of the cosmos would forever remain a mystery to him. 

But it was as it was and if the All-father called for him, Hephaestus would have to follow that call, however much he disliked it. If he didn’t, he would only risk Zeus showing up at his home and that was the one thing he disliked even more than being among the other Olympians. There was more than one reason he never went to Olympus even though he wasn’t technically banned from that place, and why he also didn’t care for any kind of relationship with the other immortals. It said a lot how little they had cared about the violence he had suffered from Zeus’ hands. Nobody had spoken up for him apart from his own mother. And even her protest had fallen silent rather quickly and she had taken to secret visits instead.

For a long time he had resented them all and wallowed in self-pity, thinking that staying away and denying them his company was their rightful punishment, but ever since Anthea had come into his life, he had been thankful for the distance he had built between the Olympians and himself instead of lamenting it. As far as he was concerned, Anthea was never to meet any of them. Aside from his mother. And even her visits made him uneasy sometimes. Sure, he had made his peace with her, had even named his daughter after her as an act of grace, but she was still an Olympian goddess and as such, lying and scheming was an inherent part of her nature. She couldn’t be trusted, and neither could Zeus and Poseidon or basically any god when it came to a beautiful young woman like Anthea. 

Hephaestus had made sure she knew that as well, had taught her about the insatiable appetite of the immortals and the methods of deception they used to silence their hunger for a while before it rekindled and the circle would begin again. There were plenty of examples to pick from and he would make sure his daughter would not become one of them some day.

He sighed again as he pushed those dark thoughts aside and shouldered the leather bag that contained a few of his tools. He had no idea why Zeus was summoning him, but he assumed the god was in need of yet another weapon or some sort of tool to keep the other gods or a few unruly mortals under control. Whatever it was, he didn’t intend on staying long. A day or two at most. Actually, he was hoping Zeus would simply place an order that could be forged here on Lemnos and delivered upon a later date. That way, he could be back and forth within a few hours and wouldn’t have to leave Anthea on her own for too long. For his sake more than hers because it made him uneasy to know she was unprotected. Not that she was helpless, far from it. She could very well manage on her own, inside the house and outside. She knew how to handle a sword and a bow, how to properly use a shield and spear. He had forged all those weapons himself, weapons fit to kill a god, and personally trained her. And still he loathed being apart from her. Especially without saying goodbye. It had almost ripped him apart when she had asked that of him, but he knew how much she hated goodbyes. And so he had pretended that nothing out of the ordinary was to happen today as he had seen her off to her morning swim. He had tried so hard not to hug her a little tighter, a little longer, to inhale her familiar scent a little deeper while he held her, but he had failed miserably. He had known when she had tried to wriggle out of his embrace with a grunt, just like he had known that she would forgive him his lapse as soon as a soft smile had started to curl her lips.

Gods, please let him be there. Please let him still be there.

But she knew the second she hurled the door to her home open that her father was gone already. And so she hurried to close it behind herself and push the wooden bar into place. Anthea felt her heart racing in her chest and even though she knew it was stupid to get this upset about a bird, she only felt her sudden panic subside a bit when she had crossed the kitchen and reached the wall that held the sharp carving knife. She didn’t need to look down to know her knuckles were immediately whitening from her tight grip. A grip so strong it didn’t even loosen the slightest bit when she was caught off guard by the mighty thunder that made the pots and pans rattle and forced her heart to stand still for a moment. She didn’t dare move in the treacherous silence that followed, didn’t even breathe until the cry of an eagle reached her ears and made her gasp. White noise flooded her ears, making it impossible to tell whether the flutter of wings that came from behind her back was real or a mere product of her imagination. But she turned anyway, knife ready to strike, just to be frozen in place once more by the sight that awaited her.

He was breathtaking. More handsome than any man she had ever seen. Golden hair fell around his shoulders, matched by a thick, equally golden beard that framed a winning smile which never fully reached his electric blue eyes. The same blue fading into a darker shade before turning into a rich purple coloured his chiton, a piece of clothing so minimalistic that Anthea doubted it deserved to be called that as it revealed more of his sun-kissed skin than it concealed. His strong chest and rippling stomach were on full display aside from one diagonal stripe along his front, shoulder and back. Everything about his appearance called to her. His muscular arms and legs, thick and veiny, surpassing every ideal by far. Even the V-line on his abdomen, put so conveniently on display to lead her gaze right to the very center of his masculinity. It was ridiculous how attractive this man was, only that he wasn’t a man, she guessed. And even if she had never seen any other gods than her father and grandmother, she recognised the hubris only divine power entailed in the way he carried himself. But while it gave her a sense of security around her father, being in the same room as this creature awakened her primal fears.

“Anthea, I believe?” he asked, his voice deep, rolling in his chest like the thunder she had heard mere seconds ago. All she could muster was a nod, her mouth dry, her tongue too heavy to speak. “I was hoping to find Hephaestus.”

He moved while he spoke, slowly, careful not to scare her, but as he drew nearer her survival instincts finally flickered to life and she found her voice again.

“I’m afraid he has been summoned to Olympus. He won’t return any time soon. So there will be no use in waiting for him.”

She delivered her statement with a steady voice. Maybe if she showed strength and made it clear that he wasn’t welcome to wait for her father’s return, he would leave. It was only when she watched the wolfish grin spread on his lips that she realised her mistake.

“What a shame. All this way for nothing.”

His smile grew even wider, contradicting the regret his words held, as he drew in closer and closer. The weight in her hand was her last hope, and so she steadied her stance, fastened her grip, ready to drive the blade as deep as she could. Her attack wouldn’t kill him, not if he really was a god, but maybe it would buy her enough time to make it to her room and fetch her sword.

It wouldn’t. In the blink of an eye a blazing light shot from his hand, hitting the knife in her hand. A sharp pain spread through her whole arm as she felt her fingers open and heard the sound of metal hitting the ground. 

Once again her instincts took over, telling her to back off. Stupidly so, as with the first step back Anthea could see a flicker of excitement in his eyes. The reaction of a predator, thrilled by the stirring of his prey. Her move had marked the beginning of the hunt, even though she had nowhere to run. All it took was one more step before her back hit the wall. He had her cornered, fixed in place to do as he pleased. He had won and he knew it. 

“Well,” he cooed as his fingertips ran along her arm, eager to occupy his newly gained territory, “maybe I didn’t come all this way for nothing after all.”

One hand raised to shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight, Hephaestus glanced up at the heap of clouds that covered the mountain top and veiled the home of the gods from the rest of the world. He could easily avoid the arduous climb, travel through the ether as he had done to get here and be at the summit in seconds, but he liked the challenge and the view was phenomenal. 

He hadn’t gotten far, trees were still lining his way, when a thought suddenly crossed his mind. From the moment Hermes had sought him out in his workshop at the foot of the Mosychlos a few days ago to let him know that Zeus wanted to see him, Hephaestus had not been able to shake the feeling that something was not quite right. He just hadn’t been able to figure out what exactly it was that upset him. But now it seemed so clear to him that he wondered why it had taken him so long to realise. It wasn’t one particular thing that was odd, but the whole endeavour.

Why had Zeus sent Hermes himself to summon him? Why not just send word what it was he wanted, have Hephaestus manufacture and then deliver it? Why make him travel all the way to Mount Olympus when Zeus clearly didn’t want him there just as much as Hephaestus didn’t care for being there if it wasn’t to—

Hephaestus didn’t manage to finish that thought, cut short as the earth began to move underneath his feet. It was only a light tremble in the beginning, hardly enough for him to notice, but it grew stronger by the second, until the trees started to shake dangerously and the first forest creatures fled their hideouts in terror. The god struggled to keep on his feet as another violent tremor shook the ground underneath his feet. 

The shadow of an eagle brushed across his face and darkened the sun for a moment as the mighty bird rose from its nest with a high-pitched cry. But even with the bird long gone, the sun didn’t touch his skin again. As he looked up into the sky, Hephaestus found his fear confirmed. An eclipse. 

This was more than a mere earthquake, he was sure of that now. Something was terribly wrong here. He needed to get home immediately, Olympus be damned. The All-father could wait, his daughter couldn’t. With a quick motion of his fingers he opened the ether, willing the destination of his journey to the center of his mind before he stepped through the opening.

The stranger was so close now. She could see the golden flecks dance in the blue of his eyes as he leaned in to grab her chin. The heavy scent of petrichor on his skin made her dizzy and washed away her last shred of doubt who the intruder was. She could feel him, everything of him, pressing heavily into her body while his mouth came inexorably closer to her own. Giving in would have been easy. If it was true and she was indeed locked against the cold wall by the king of the gods, he would have her anyway, regardless of her opposition. Resistance seemed pointless, but her father had not raised a coward. And so she turned her head just in time before he could close the last distance and hissed, “Let go of me.”

She also tried to push him off, but however much she tried, he didn’t even move one inch. 

“I said, let go of me, kyon,” she pressed out between gritted teeth and revelled for a tiny moment as he blinked upon the unexpected insult. She was trembling, shaking in his tight hold, heat flooding her body as she readied herself to spit her venom at him again. But before she could, a familiar voice boomed through the strained silence and the shaking stopped.

“You heard her, Zeus. Let go of my daughter.”

So it was true. It was him. They had never met before, but her father had told her all the stories. She had always thought he was merely exaggerating, being the protective father he was. But she could see now that he hadn’t told her all the gruesome tales of violation to keep her away from Olympus but to prepare her for the inevitable encounter with its inhabitants. 

But even with Hephaestus present and Zeus’ plan destroyed, Anthea felt that the All-father was reluctant to let go. His slowness was not only testing her own patience, but her father’s nerves were wearing thin as well. He was already taking a step forward, ready to pull her from the impertinent god’s grip with force if necessary, when Anthea took matters into her own hands and pushed the violator aside. She hurried past him until she reached her father. His eyes quickly ran up and down her quivering form and Anthea was sure that she had never seen an equal terror in them before. Not even on the day she had wandered off from his workshop into the cave labyrinth that lead deep into the Mosychlos on her own. 

“Go wait in your room,” he whispered, every fibre in his body tensed and even though she feared what might pass next between the two gods, she did as she was told, squeezing his hand in passing as she left.

“What are you doing here, Zeus?”

The blond sneered, raising his arms in an excuse as false as his smile.

“Does a father need a reason to visit his son?”

“You are many things, Vrontios, but not my father. You made that unmistakably clear when you hurled me from Mount Olympus.”

“A mere misunderstanding. I didn’t think you would still hold that against me after all these years.”

Hephaestus disagreed. He had every reason to still hold it against the All-father. Being thrown down the highest mountain out of spite because his wife had decided if her husband could have a child on his own, so could she, wasn’t exactly what he would call a misunderstanding. 

“You never saw the necessity to visit me before. Why now?”

Zeus grinned. “I admit, you got me there.”

“Then what is it you want that couldn’t wait until my arrival at Mount Olympus—to where you summoned me?”

“Well,” a deep chuckle made his bare chest quiver, his eyes briefly flitting into the direction in which Anthea had left seconds ago. Had Hephaestus blinked in the wrong moment, he would have missed it. But it had been there and it made his blood boil with fury.

“I feared as much. But I will not let you defile my daughter like all the others just to throw her away once you sated your hunger on her.”

“Defile is such a harsh word. I can make her feel good if she gives herself to me freely. And why wouldn’t she? Am I not the mighty Zeus, King of the Gods?”

“I’m afraid you are. Though I still fail to understand who put you in that position.”

Zeus’ blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “Careful, Hephaestus. Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now and simply take what I desire.”

“Because we both know that killing her son and raping her granddaughter might very well be the last drop to let my mother’s hatred for you finally overflow.”

They both knew Hera’s patience with her husband was held together by nothing but a frail thread after all his affairs and constant lies, and if it would snap, that might very well lead to the end of the reign of Zeus. The All-father was fuming as the realisation slowly sank in. Just this once, he wouldn’t get what he wanted, a sensation that was entirely new to him.

“Know this, Hephaestus. I will have her. And even though you think you can protect her, you will find that you two have nowhere to go. There is not a stone big enough in this world for you to crawl under that I will leave unturned. She will be mine, Hephaestus. Mine.”

In a flash Zeus was gone, leaving only smoke and a foul aftertaste in his mouth. But right now he didn’t care about the threats that still lingered in the air as he hurried out of the room. He wasn’t in the least surprised to find her rushing towards him halfway. She must have been frightened to death by this encounter. As was he after finding his worst fears, everything he had been so careful to avoid, had come true.

She threw herself into his arms, her head secured against his heaving chest by a huge palm.

“I’m sorry, my flower,” he mumbled into the softness of her hair. “So, so sorry.”

“What for, father? Nothing happened. I am unharmed.” 

Zeus may not have touched her, and Hephaestus was grateful he had been there in time to prevent the worst. Still his heart broke for his daughter with every beat because he knew that this was only the beginning. Zeus’ greed knew no bounds and in the end, his greed for her flesh would cost Anthea everything. It would mark the end of her life as she knew it. And there was nothing Hephaestus could do about it.

Chapter 2

Tag List:

@ashesofblackroses

[themadsquirrel09]

Tug-of-war

Fandom ☆ South Park 

Ship ☆ KenMan ♡ KenEric (Eric Cartman x Kenny McCormick) 

Characters ☆ Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman, Stan Marsh, Liane Cartman, Mr. Kitty. A bit of Mr. Mackey, Wendy Testaburger, Kyle Broflovski and Butters.

Rating ☆ M

Summary ☆ One impulsive action can make the difference in the game of life and death.

Warnings ☆ Non-explicit adult themes, blood, swearing. They are kids here (11): it is mostly care, angst and fluffiness.

About it ☆ This fanfic works as a one shot, it is also part of an AU I’m writing in no specific order. I’m still trying to choose the name °u°’’’

☆ 3362 words ☆

With love: (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Stan

“Here comes a candle to light you to bed.

Here comes a chopper to chop off your head.”

I hate this house, screw this!  

From the backyard, I still can hear the moans, the thuds, shit! I try to climb fast and get into the clubhouse; when I finally do, Mr. Kitty greets me. 

“This place is a mess, but good enough for one night, Kitty.” Something between a purr and a meow is his reply. I made a run for it as soon as I got home and heard them, but I knew this happened before; that it would happen again (and again), so there’s a mini fridge and a sleeping bag here. 

I search into my backpack for a distraction. All I have is food, a few books and, yes! My PSP! I smile at it but, when I hold it, my view gets blurred. I have to wipe the tears from the screen. 

Fuck, like my day isn’t shitty enough already! That PSP reminds me that I have Kenny’s will memorized. I asked for a copy to his lawyer, and read it over and over again, looking for something that I could use to get my way while he was in a coma. Now I know every word by heart.

I toss the PSP on the sleeping bag. Fucking Liane , she is the one to blame, because I can’t blame myself without breaking down and lately I just can’t get mad at Kenny.

“Goddammit!” I curse choked into sobs until I hear a noise, it is Mr. Kitty coming towards me at full speed, purring loudly. He pushes his head right into my hand; cats have funny faces, it makes me chuckle and calms me down. 

I grab some snacks, go for a Mountain Dew, and lean on the window frame; maybe to distract myself from what is happening inside the house, I think about Kenny, do you feel that way? Or were you just pissed at me because of something I did?

I replay in my head those words meant for me.

Eric, I never really liked you. But then, nobody does. You have no ability to feel, and you are going to die alone and miserable. It is only because I feel so sorry for you that I leave you my Sony PSP.

He calls me Eric. Even if sometimes I feel like I say his name over and over again, like a fucking parrot, he almost never does the same. I guess it means nothing, but why do I like it when he does that?  

That question makes me uneasy, so I go back to the will and get pissed. If you don't like me, then why do you feel so sorry for me? And then you let me have your only valuable possession... you know that you will come back to life, right? But maybe he thinks I don't.

“Kenny.” I go wide-eyed because I wasn’t expecting to say his name out loud, then I take a step back when I hear his voice calling me back! I peek through the window as if I’m going to find him outside. What I see is the snow covered in blood; I can feel the liquid dripping from my hair. When I blink, it is all gone. 

My heart hammers fast, but after a moment it slows down until it stops completely . Some weird sense of warmth comes to me. It surrounds me and gives me peace, then I feel it ascend; I look up just in time to see a shooting star, an impossibly big one. I feel my heart start again.

Shit, I better go the fuck to sleep.

Instead, I sit on the sleeping bag and take the PSP; when I touch it, I feel like Kenny for a second. By now I’m used to it, since that time his soul was stuck in my body, this happens sometimes. I wonder: what is he doing right now? , but to get my head out of that, out of everything, I play until I fall asleep with the PSP in my hands.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The only reason I talk to Liane the next day is because I need her to sign my permit and give me food, but I can barely listen to her lies, or even look at her as she showers me with unwanted affection.

I struggle my way out as quickly as I can and, maybe because of that, I’m the first one to make it to the bus stop. I'm pissed and sleepy so, when I hear footsteps, I prepare to shit on whoever is daring to cross my way but, well, fuck . Kenny’s big orbs lay on me.

“Hi, Eric.” I try to avoid his gaze, but I can’t. Does he go at a slower pace today? 

“Hey, Kenny.” My voice comes out hoarse, I didn’t get inside the sleeping bag yesterday.

“Dude, are you ok?” Do you really care, or are you just feeling sorry for me again? And he appears to be fragile, but is probably the only kid who could have had a worse night, and still asks me if I’m ok. 

“Hey, dudes!” Stan must have drunk an extra shot if he is so happy, that’s good, distracting. Soon Kyle joins us, but I’m so tired I can barely take my anger out on him. 

Since today we have this stupid school trip, I sleep most of the way; when I do, I have this nightmare: 

I’m standing in a puddle of blood. I move out of the way, but there is blood everywhere and, little by little, paralyzed by fear, I see how the thick dark liquid fills the space; when it reaches my ankles, I panic and start running.

It seems like I go nowhere and, exhausted, I fall on my knees. What is it about this blood that’s so hypnotizing? I can’t stop looking, but when it is reaching my elbows, I hear crying and snap out of it: realizing I'm about to drown, I throw myself back. That’s when I see something emerging from this dark lake. 

I get close, and take him in my arms: it’s Kenny, his eyes are shut, his mouth is open, red flows out of the corner of his lips. 

All this blood, it pours out of him.

“Kenny, wake up.” I try to clean his face with my sleeve. Useless . “Wake up, damn it.” I see his eyes twitch. The sobs turn into a sweet song, a light sound I can barely distinguish. I try to find the source, but it seems like it comes from everywhere. 

While I wasn’t looking, Kenny somehow got out of my grip: he is now floating in front of me and, just for a split second, I see the huge wings that hold him up. The blood now reaches my belly button, I get a hold of his wrists and try to pull him close.

“Wake up!”

With that last scream, I wake up, sweating, buried in Kenny’s arm, clinging tightly to his parka. We lock eyes. What the fuck, am I still dreaming? There’s a warm light that surrounds him. We remain like that for a second and all I’m doing is trying not to cry. 

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m here.” Weird. Those simple whispered words it’s all I need to hear and I’m able to breathe again. When he places his hand on mine, I remember where we are and sit up quickly, but my hand holds on. I feel him squeezing lightly, then he lets go, and the bus stops.

“Why are we visiting a lame-ass national park, again!?” I complain about it as I make sure to stay close to Kenny. He seems much more into this stuff than I do and it takes just a minute, while I convince Butters that some flower is edible, for him to disappear. 

“Kenny?” Where the hell did you go? He is out of sight, but I walk like I know the way, like something—someone?—is calling me. A few minutes later, with the strong wind whistling and rumbling, I see the blond boy kneeling among lilac flowers. His body is turned away from me. He faces the abyss.

I get close without him noticing, when I’m just a few steps away, I feel as if thunder growls under my feet. Without even thinking, I run towards Kenny, grab him by the backpack, and yank him with all my might. The floor crumbles. 

Part of the ground is swallowed by the depths, but we are both safe. I fell on my butt and Kenny lies unconscious. I drag him away from the shattered floor and, for a moment, all I feel is my heart pounding. The chunk of earth we were standing on is gone and Kenny should be dead (again), but he isn’t. Because of me?

I glance at him and his face twitches, it seems like he is about to regain consciousness. I panic and run. I don’t know why, but I run until I’m breathless. 

After a while, I feel like throwing up, fainting, maybe both. I stumble and grab onto something, shutting my eyes so the world will stop spinning. Two things happen at the same time: on one side, I feel better, like a weight is lifted from my shoulders; on the other side, I hear the violent and very familiar sound of puking, it comes from right beside me. 

It is Stan who emptied his stomach. What? Did Stan just throw up for me? Even if it seems impossible, it feels like it. 

So I ran to the other kids and grabbed Stan's hand without noticing. He lets me keep doing that while he tells Wendy he is alright. I steady myself, we glimpse at each other and smile, then I let go of him. He doesn’t know what just happened, but why else would he do this for me? The rest of the trip, I keep smiling like an idiot, feeling like I did something I really like. Back on the bus, I can’t help but flinch when Kenny sits beside me and rests upon me those tired, bright eyes.

“What is it, poor boy, did you see a ghost?”

“No, but I almost became one,” he mutters and I pretend I didn’t hear him.

“What did you say?” I reply, teasing, I know Kenny gets frustrated when people can’t understand him. He squints at me and I almost feel him inspecting my soul. Why can’t I just look away? Fuck.

“I said: thanks dude, your face looks like shit too!” He leans towards me, and I feel myself leaning backwards. “What were you doing last night?” I scoff, amused.

“If you want me to answer that, Kenny, then you have to tell me first, what were you doing last night?” He blinks, taken aback. I can finally avert my gaze and smile smugly. I got him.

“Whatever, like I care!” He says and it stings a little, however I can’t just tell him what happened. It seems like he feels the same. 

This pisses me off.

Fuck it, I’ll just tell him! But, when I look at my side, I find Kenny is sleeping. I pull him by the parka, so his head lands on my shoulder, then I close my eyes and lean on him. I fall deep in a dream of a memory:

The moon peeks through the window and illuminates the room, but my view gets blurred by the—oh, so expected—tears. This time there’s something different, though: the soul of a joyful boy is trapped in my body.

“What’s the matter? It can’t be that you are crying.” Shit . Listening to my voice in that sweet-toned ring just makes me cry harder. “Dude?” He insists and I can feel his worry running through my skin. I breathe, trying to calm down. 

“It’s stupid. I cry at night because I don’t have a dad.” I feel my face warming up at the embarrassing confession. Kenny takes control of my left hand; he reaches for my right hand and holds it softly.

“It’s ok. I’m here.” I smile.

Those words seem to unfold as I wake up. I have to check if it was Kenny the one who said that right now, but I see that he is still asleep, we are still leaning on each other. Nobody can know that he looks cute to me at this instant, that I can't help but press myself against him just for a second before I struggle to upright swiftly. 

I get paranoid about it, but the other kids are talking, screaming and playing. Nobody saw us . I turn, find Kenny’s sleepy gaze already on me and smile nervously. It feels exactly like when I do something bad: I’m afraid I’ll get caught. I have to fill the silence.

“Man, if I knew that trip was so lame, I would have stayed home.” I lie, I would have rather died. I shield myself with my backpack not knowing exactly what I’m searching for, so I take out the PSP and, when I do, it feels like those times Kenny is about to show himself as a ghost. My breath hitches and I feel cold; even if it is him, ghosts creep me out.

“Oh dude, I haven’t played that in so long!” He doesn’t seem to notice, though.

“Check it out, Kenny, I’m already on level 42,” I say as I hand the PSP to him.

“Are you getting your ass kicked or what?”

“Yeah. No matter how much I reinforce the gate, they keep getting in.” Suddenly, we are closer than expected and he shows me the way. We get so distracted by talking and playing, that I barely notice we are back in South Park, but when I do, I swallow hard. If I get home and the same that happened yesterday goes down, I might lose my shit and murder someone. Maybe I will kill myself. That’d be the best .

“If I stay at your place, we can beat this in just a couple of hours, you know? We can also repair our clubhouse a bit, it’s a cool place to hang out,” Kenny says, smiling. Why would you want to stay with me? Are you just feeling sorry for me again? Wait. Did I say that out loud? I’m about to panic, but he gives me a look like he is clueless. “What is it, you had other plans?”

Other plans? I see my corpse lying on the floor and I burst into laughter. I laugh not to cry and because it is too funny. It is impossible that someone like this exists! At first, he asks me what is it, but after a while, maybe because of how much I’m kicking, wheezing, struggling to breathe, he starts to laugh too; at me? Sure, but I don’t care right now.

“Eric Cartman! I said this is your stop, mmk?”

“Calm the fuck down!” I get to say between laughs, “I’m going, ok?” I stand up and turn to see the blond offering back the PSP, but instead of taking it, I grab him by the arm and pull him. He comes with me.

As Kenny said, it only takes us a couple of hours to finish the game, then we start to fix the clubhouse a bit.

“Dude?”

“Kenny?”

“Do you have a crush on Stan?” I feel my gut dropping.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I saw you holding hands; you guys look cute together.” Why does hearing him say that makes me feel like shit? I put the tools aside and go for the door. He follows.

“Cartman?”

“Shut up, Kenny!” I snap, turning to scream in his face, but when I do, I accidentally step on Mr. Kitty’s tail. He hisses, bites me and I back away. Being so close to the entrance, I lose my balance. 

About to fall from the tree, I reach for Kenny and he gets to grab me by the arm. For an instant, I see in him that determined expression he usually has when he is Mysterion. He throws himself back pulling me, so I fall inside the clubhouse, but land on top of him. 

“Fuck!” I get off of Kenny as quickly as I can, he gasps for air. I was crushing him! “Kenny?” He smiles, trying to be reassuring, but he is having a fit of cough, so I grab him, sit him up and get him something to drink. He holds his chest with his eyes closed; the coughs mellow as he breathes deeply. I just look at him. Kenny’s hood is off and it is not every day that I get to see his whole face. Do you really have to hide all the time? 

“Dude!” He exclaims after finally drinking a bit of the Dr Pepper. “I almost died.” And it wouldn’t be the first time today.

“It’s your fault!” 

“Fuck you!” He says to my face playful, and I find myself incapable of insulting him back. “We are ok now, right? I just saved your ass.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“About what I said: I don’t care who you like. Let me know if you need a wingman.” I stare at my hands and remember how they reached for Kenny this morning. Did I save his life? Well, he just did the same for me. “Cartman?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I’ll let you know.” 

“Cool,” he says, then he gets into the sleeping bag. “Goodnight.” Kenny falls asleep in a heartbeat. You are even more tired than I am, aren’t you? But I feel restless and keep wondering:

“What were you doing last night?” I ask him under my breath. There is no answer. I sit beside the sleeping bag and imagine we are some kind of warriors; I’m the one standing guard, maintaining a protective field with my wizard powers. 

I see Kenny’s matches on the floor. He probably dropped them when we fell. I take them, go to the window, and after declaring the area is enemy-free, I light one. What kind of kid looks so happy just by watching the fire?

Kenny’s will surface on my mind as the fire goes out on its own: Eric, I never really liked you. But then, nobody does. Then what are you doing here? Why would you want to be my wingman?

I light another match.

You have no ability to feel, and you are going to die alone and miserable.  

I kind of wish I could agree about me having no ability to feel, then I remember his hand reaching for mine in that dream of a memory I had today. 

“Shit!” The fire burns my fingers and I let go of the match, which falls onto the snow. 

I turn to look at Kenny. He sleeps curled up like a stray kitten. Dying alone and miserable, huh? Who else but you would know how that feels?

I get close and kneel beside him, then I light another match. Funny; I’ve seen his face illuminated by fire so many times the image is stuck with me.

It is only because I feel so sorry for you that I leave you my Sony PSP.

“You make no sense.” My mumbled words blow out the match. You make no sense, but neither do I! I can’t even put a finger on what made me pull him away from the abyss today. 

I smile at the thought of it, maybe I just didn’t want to be alone, on the bus, at the house. My eyes go to the floor, I feel like crying, but a sudden yank makes me gasp as I fall forward; Kenny is pulling me by the arm. 

“Eric.” He looks at me with half-lidded eyes, “Fucking sleep.” He commands groggily. I frown at him, he lets out a soft chuckle, and I get into the sleeping bag, wondering: for how long has he been pulling me away from falling to my end?

❅──────✧⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅•̩̩͙꙳⋆✧────── ☆ ──────✧⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅•̩̩͙꙳⋆✧──────❅

This is (definitely) not the end.

⋆✧────── ☆ ──────✧⋆

Final notes 🖊️

 🧡 I love this ship so much ❤️

Did you enjoy reading it? It sure was an amazing and weird experience writing this 🌠 It took me a lot of time mostly because I edit until my eyes bleed =u= (I started writing it and had the 1st draft on January lol)

A little of context ☆ The paranormal connection between Eric Cartman and Kenny McCormick is one of the main reasons I adore this ship. Eric says he sees through Kenny's eyes and feels like him on S06E12 ∣ A Ladder to Heaven; then Kenny's soul is trapped in Cartman's body for almost a month. 

The crying at night thing is also from the show, Eric confesses that on S11E08 ∣ Le Petit Tourette.

All kinds of support are really appreciated! ♡ 

If you want to help me keep writing, you can buy me a coffee here ☕

You can also commission me, here you have the info 💌

[just-a-random-person24]

chat I keep forgetting to upload my notes. Anyways! Starks Mind eps 20-25

Episode 20

• another silver lining taken away

• blames his lack of a map for ending up in these types of situations

• totally cameras!

• lost count of how many times there hasn't been any alternate routes for him to take

• “No smoking? Thanks! I don't need any sort of stress relief right now.”

• figures out the ‘cameras’ are tripwires

• Tells the guard he’ll take care of turning on the power for the rails and that he’ll try to find medical supplies

• “Intruder spotted.” *shoot* “And subsequently eliminated.”

• the headcrabs are just annoying at this point

• low on ammo

• thinks. the first-aid kits are for the HEV suit…

• very pissed off right now cause of all the radiation he's had to deal with

• thinks he made it to the generator. Only gets a turret :(

• about to say the military forced him to kill them but immediately brings up the soldiers walking into his bullets

Episode 21

• blames the soldiers running into his bullets on Darwinism

• feels like he's stuck in a loop

• thinks the marines would have a map. They don't. very mad about this

• searches the backpacks for any possible food or a map. He *could've* eaten hours ago with the vending machines but yk

• compares finding food or a map to trying to develop a quantum mechanical formulation for the wheeler feynman time-symmetric theory without a Hamiltonian.

• Which (copying from the Wikipedia article) is a theory of electrodynamics based on a relativistic correct extension of action at a distance electron particles.

• (also from its Wikipedia article) In quantum mechanics, the Hamiltonian of a system is an operator corresponding to the total energy of that system, including both kinetic energy and potential energy.

• says that doing that is simple in theory, but gets out of control fast

• everything is past using crazy or insane, so settles on chaos

• has no clue where he was going with the above statement. Says it’s to keep himself sane

• tries to use the lift. Is confused why it doesn't work for a moment

• claims he's very ditzy right now

• already knows the other corridor will lead to nothing, but checks it anyways because the stairs down are destroyed

• Shoots before thinking about if he was about to shoot at a scientist or security guard

• compares what's going on to Star Wars. Realizes that since the military shot first, that would make him Greedo(?) which would make him the bad guy

• has no clue how he would get back up the stairs and settles on using alien bodies before barrels. Despite not liking blood on his suit. Blames it on being unhinged at the moment

• who knew that turning on the power would lead to more military?

Episode 22

• pretty sure the military has a bomb in their possession

• going to sneak attack the two soldiers that came down the lift. Makes a loud splash

• very concerned about the explosive barrels laying around

• considers himself lucky that they haven't blown his brains out yet

• going to use the explosive barrels to try and kill the remaining soldiers

• pretty sure the alien invasion isn't on a global scale yet since the cover-up operation wouldn't work if the aliens *were* invading globally

• very surprised he didn't die. His face is hole-less and he can sort of feel his body!

• “I might have killed myself a while ago, but since you assholes are going to do fuck all about this and glass the place in the end, I now have a reason to keep on going.”

• ‘Free man’ pun… immediately says the joke was tacky

• “No. No way in hell, I'm not leaving you to die down here, I just can't” [npc says something] “Cut the bravado, you're not fooling anyone! It's just *me*! I can help you!”

• doesn't want to leave the guard to die. Says he can't let anyone else die ‘not again, not now, not ever’

• apologizes to the guard for not being able to help him

• “That's right, take it! Take it all and ***die!***”

• very happy about killing the Gargantua :)

• very okay. very adamant he won't won't pass out because there's still shit to do

• really hates that he has to leave the guard behind

• doesn't seem to want to fire the rocket until he hears it would help the Lambda Team

• “So I'm launching a rocket, huh? Makes sense.” Very much makes sense

• Tells the guard about the injured guard so that he can possibly help him

• still no map. sad :(

• tbh he's very much a theater kid even though he hasn't done theater

Episode 23

• says that getting to the rocket would be as easy as rationalizing String Theory (aka, not at all)

• assumes there's soldiers at the bottom of the tram lift. Just water though

• makes a water-slide joke about all the flooding

• doesn't get a moment for his jokes :(

• periodic dose of disappointment is met :)

• very unimpressed with the Barnacles

• would rather stumble across a group of marines then aliens because the marines means he's getting closer to somewhere important

• tries to come up with a name for the barnacles. ‘amputated octopus’ isn't good so sticks with ‘jellyfish pricks’ because it's more degrading

• “Back to deciding under the illusion of free choice.”

• the electrified water is better than radiation lakes! refuses to step into it to avoid becoming a battery

starting to enjoy killing things. And makes the connection that guns are for murder first and self defense second. totally normal :)

• according to him, was really good at track and field but just okay at shot-put

• failing really bad at throwing grenades

• “And just like the cat, we all know what happens to the curious. They send their own to the moon, or space, or other worlds, hoping to explore or get… resources?” doesheknow.png

• thinks the aliens are on earth for resources for a moment

• hopes Eli and Kleiner are alright. Wonders if they met up with Barney

tries to figure out how a marine died before ultimately giving up and saying that yellow tape should go around the whole facility

• would've taken up chess if he knew the military's plans were this complicated

Episode 24

• thinks chess isn't a good comparison, but when thinking about it more it actually is

• he's both stupidly lucky *and* armored!

• thinks he's better equipped to deal with the military then the military is to deal with him

• no up-sides to alien infested areas

• immediately runs into more marines, was going to leave the living marine but goes back to kill him under ‘kill or be killed’ mentality

• “Pursuing these bastards is a double edged sword, the side on my end being dangerously close.”

• going to kill every marine he sees at this point. Good for him!

• going in a loop…

• leaves the cart to explore on foot because, looping

• sees a bunch of headcrabs ambush(?) a marine. tries shooting at one of them through the window when he thinks it's staring at him

• finds a rocket engine! thinks he's getting close

• thinks humans would get ripped apart on Xen

• switches a switch on without knowing what it would do other than ‘power on’

• “even the military has failed to set up a decent ambush against me.” \*immediately almost gets shot at by a military turret*

• lost his cart </3. Very excited about fighting marines in tight, narrow hallways :)

• thinks the vortigaunts were speaking through a marine through telepathy, and that's why the marine didn't shoot at them

• lots of Houndeyes! Can cause temporary hearing loss

• finds a bunch of scientists and guards dead against a wall. Sits down and apologizes to them and tells them he'll make up for his mistakes

Episode 25

• making promises to corpses holds no weight cause there's no expectations

• certain he's in debt to the entire planet

• his body hurts very bad :( also thinks he has internal bleeding

• wished Lamarckian Evolution was true cause he wouldn't have to deal with bullets. But would have to deal with other lethal things

• history wouldn't look kindly at him joking about dead employees

• Somewhere Over the Rainbow playing :) questions if it's real

• thinks the military would be into death metal instead

• almost gets gooped by a Bullsquid cause he was thinking about military music choices

• could go for a smoke. Gets distracted about the possibility of bugs crawling on his suit and tries to shoot at bugs

• needs to make a mental note about not rushing into firefights

• finally pays attention to the cafeteria! Doesn't want to eat anything there though (reasons being that it's near a rail-line, an alien could've gotten to the food first, and that he doesn't feel hungry anymore)

• kills a Bullsquid in the women's restroom, then wonders if it *was* female but doesn't want to check even if it's for science. According to a commenter, Bullsquids are hermaphrodites!

• Pure Imagination playing now. Finds lockers and jokes about finding music he would like. Mentions the rock band Long Distance Calling

• says he socialized quite a bit during his time in Black Mesa and actually remembered a few names! But would've needed to be really close or an asshole to *really* remember them

• uses a very long winded way to say that Black Mesa right now is just full of nonstop detours to get to where he needs

• “I have to lay low for now.” \*immediately has to crouch to avoid trip-wires*

• knows he needs to rest to regain some strength, but doesn't because he needs to get to the rocket

• “My body practically lives off of adrenaline right now, but that's going to wear off eventually. But you know what won't wear off? The gunfights won't. The alien ambushes won't. The teleportations won't, the deaths won't, the violence won't. None of these things will stop for me! So when I finally reach that point of mental desperation and physical exhaustion, what am I supposed to do then?”

• figures he's doing something right to make it this far

[writerleo86]

Terravenger Season 6 - The Bringer of Chaos Arc - Episode 532 (Do Not Copy) - 03.26.2024

    At the large hall that was built in a 12th-century style, two people walked from the only opening that was at the far side. And they found their master Mephistopheles sitting on the tall chair at the other end which was surrounded by two large statues of goddesses.

    Mephistopheles now had golden armor covering both his chest and back. He wore a large purple pad over each shoulder along with a thick dark strap around his waist and a long white cloth wrapped below. He also had on a pair of black pants with a purple pad protecting each ankle. And he wore nothing on his feet.

    Merlin who stood at the right side before him had on his black uniform which had long sleeves and long leggings. He had on black gloves along with long blue bands around his wrists. The white skull crest was placed on the center of the chest area. He also had on a pair of short boots made of black leather. And he wore a long blue coat with a large black-lined star placed on the right side while a black-lined half-moon symbol remained on its left side.

    The other individual standing at the left side was the youth Scry. He wore a dark-pink shirt with a thick collar and long sleeves. Along with that, he had on brown leggings and a purple pad protecting each ankle and knee. He also wore a pair of green gloves and short black boots. And he had on an opened purple coat with the lower part passing his knees. Placed on the right shoulder was a silver half-moon crest with the white skull crest at the bottom.

    Scry informed his master "Your last battle has taken a large toll on you."

    And Merlin implied "We still have time to transfer him into the body of the vessel."

    Mephistopheles laid his chin on his right fist as the elbow remained on the right arm of the majestic chair.

    And he responded "The Light-Rider. He was the one that has brought me down. His light... His great light... It appears that his true goal was to weaken me."

    Then Scry told him "And the barrier that the druid placed on the vessel is still there. Even Mother Blight has nothing to break the damn barrier with."

    The weakened Mephistopheles lifted his head and asked "Is there an alternate solution for this?"

    Merlin lowered his head and reported "As of right now, there is no way to bypass the hold. The druid must have performed one of those techniques to further protect the boy. We would need something strong enough."

    The angered demon rose quickly from his chair and yelled "Unacceptable!"

    The calm Merlin thought for a moment as Mephistopheles roared "I MUST BE THE ONE TO CONQUER THIS ENTIRE PLANE! BUT I MUST HAVE A NEW AND POWERFUL BODY IN ORDER TO RAISE MY GREAT LIGHT! AND THERE IS NO OTHER SOLUTION?"

    "There may be one way,"

    Both Mephistopheles and Scry listened as Merlin answered "We must search for someone who has the same length of power as the Druids. Someone that can bring forth the purest of Light which will release the barrier. And then you can proceed with possessing the Vessel."

    "But the only person we know with that power!" cried Scry. "You are saying we must get Him to cooperate in order to resurrect our lord entirely?"

    The crooked Mephistopheles gave a soft laugh as both men stared at him in questioning.

    Then the demon gave out a wicked grin and revealed "Thomas Faust. He is the key to all this. We must capture him and implore him to use his power to release the hold over my vessel -- my precious vessel."

Terravenger -- Season 6

Episode 532:  The Taken Student -- Jacob Rhys

    In a dark hallway at another part of the temple, the detective Mercury Fakinos aimed his arrow of chaotic purple energy at his enemy as he stared in disbelief.

    Mercury responded "I cannot believe they did this to you. Mephistopheles... The Agents of Lights... They have made you into a soulless entity."

    The enemy who was revealed as the young Jacob Rhys continued to stare at the detective with no emotion. And Mercury continued.

    "I may have answered to another calling, but will always be a soldier for the Midas Armed Forces. And as one, I wish to apologize for not searching for you before they had a chance to take you from us. Surely it must have been terrible for you."

    The quick knight shot his arrow at the ground before the enemy in order for him to back away. A large ring of flames soon gathered around the emotionless Jacob as Mercury lowered the aim of his energy bow.

    "I shall do what I can to not kill you," stated Mercury. "Instead I wish to save you from what hold the Bringer has over you."

    The enslaved Jacob hurried from the flames to his opponent and threw a high punch with his Right Fist. Mercury quickly backed away from the strike which ended in a short explosion.

    Once he landed on one knee, Mercury placed his right hand on the ground.

    "Earth Release!" He yelled. "Prison of the Undead!"

    And pillars of stone rose around Jacob in order to trap him.

    After that, Mercury placed his hands forward and formed them into one circle.

    He called "Three-Fire Curse Seal!"

    He soon unwrapped his hands as the pillars lowered down. Then a long strap made of pale-blue energy fell from each hand. Both straps quickly formed into many strings which wrapped around every part of Jacob's body. This made the enemy lower to his knees while Mercury started draining his energy. And Jacob finally laid unconscious on the ground as the blue eyes of Mercury returned.

    Mercury walked toward his fallen opponent and lowered his head.

    He replied "Lady Sanyo will stop at nothing to return you to what you were before Mephistopheles had ever laid his hands on you."

    The knight walked a few steps forward and said "I must leave you. But I promise that I will return for you."

    The pair of Beau and Abraham hurried through another hallway. They soon opened the door to the only room at the end. And they spotted the unconscious Duo Storms laying on a long white platform. The pair also found the wicked Mother Blight standing before the boy.

    "Duo!" cried Beau. "I have found you at last!"

    Abraham quickly blew a large wave of fire from his mouth at the opponent. Mother Blight stood completely still as she made the projectile explode.

    After that, the soldier Beau hurried toward the villain with determination. He threw his right fist to her as it glowed a fiery red light. Mother Blight backed away from the deadly strike quickly.

    Next, Mother Blight fired a small ball of chaotic black energy from her right palm at the pair. Beau struck the upcoming projectile using his right fist which emitted his fiery light. And Mother Blight retreated by vanishing into thin air.

    Finally, Beau hurried to the head of the long platform. He stared at the sleeping boy with relieved eyes. And the elder Abraham stood by the commander's right side.

    "It is finished," responded Abraham. "You have come far. You have fought through many in order to get to this point. You were successful in retrieving your son."

    Beau continued to watch the boy while a soft smile entered on his face.

    Abraham told him "Let us take my grandson back to where he belongs."

    And Beau happily shook his head.

[lightningblade1994-blog]

Advice to Young Cartoonists ^^

When you’re a pesky young whippersnapper, sometimes you find yourself being forced to listen to some guzzled old geezer prattle on and on and on about something of no importance to you. There’s no escape. You just gotta sit there patiently and try to look awake, because the old duffer is obviously starting to lose it, and you don’t want to hurt his senile feelings. Plus the old fossil looks kinda cranky, and maybe he’ll smack you with his cane just ‘cause he gets it in his feeble brain that you’re some kinda smart@$$. You think, OK, maybe this old dude just forgot what it was like to be a kid with more important things to do. Or more likely, maybe this old codger does remember what it was like being young, but he figures, hey, when I was a kid, I had to listen to my elders, so now that I’m an old poop myself, by gum, them kids’re gonna listen to me! It’s my turn, dagnabbit!

That’s sorta how your ol’ Uncle Matt feels right now. So just imagine me leaning back in my big office chair, with my thumbs under my suspenders, clearing my throat disgustingly, and offering the following pearls of wisdom about cartooning:

#1) Don’t draw with cheap felt-tip pens. The ink in drawings made with felt-tip pens will fade in a few years, and all you’ll be left with is a bunch of ghostly images, then nothing at all. And these drawings fade even faster when exposed to sunlight. So wise up and use pens with permanent ink, and try to draw on paper that’s not going to get yellow and fall apart. (I’ve learned that the hard way.)

#2) Finish your work! Drawing complete stories is really hard, especially when you’re a kid, but there’s nothing is having a finished story--with beginning, middle & end--to amuse yourself and your friends. Unfinished work just doesn’t cut it.

#3) Save your stuff! Often, as your drawing and writing skills develop, or you get older and star having other, more “Mature” interests, your earlier cartoon work starts looking lame and clumsy. The usual urge is to toss it--but resist that urge! I guarantee that later in life you’ll be glad you held onto your cartoons. no matter the artstyle.

#4) Don’t let your mom throw your cartoons out! Moms have a tendency to do this. You go off for a weekend visit to Aunt Glady’s, or you get shipped off to summer camp, or you turn your back for a second, and *Poof* There go your toys, your comic books, and your brilliant artwork. And no amount of squealing is going to bring that stuff back. So take care of your treasures--keep them out of the way of anyone who has some weird hatred of “Clutter”--and make sure that everyone in your family knows you’re extremely possessive of your prized possessions. If you make your stand early, before permanent damage is done to your goodies, they may learn not to mess with your stuff.

#5) it’s OK to copy other cartoons, but it’s easy to get obsessed with a particular style that you can never master. I spent a solid year trying to draw Batman when I was eleven, and have nothing to show for it but bunch of crummy-looking, vaguely Batmannish ghosts (See Item#1). So my advice to you is to copy from a whole bunch of different sources--eventually you’ll figure out a style that suits you.

#6) Get a sketchbook. Do lots and lots of drawings. Fill up the sketchbook. Repeat.

#7) Most how-to-cartoon books don’t always help, so don’t get discouraged by their lousy advice. Remember, if the people who put together how-to-cartoon books knew what they were doing, they probably wouldn’t be doing how-to-cartoon books.

#8) Check out the original artwork of cartoonists you admire. You may be in for a surprise. It doesn’t look as slick as the printed stuff, does it? It’s full of smudges, pencil marks, erased lines, and covered-up mistakes. Most young, would-be cartoonists end up getting totally bummed out because their stuff doesn’t look as slick and perfect as the stuff they see in print. But the original work by the pros themselves usually doesn’t look that good, either. So it’s ok for your original artwork to look a little smudgy, too.

#9) It’s not as bad to be a crummy drawer. There’s room for all sorts of styles in the world. All I can draw are people with big eyeballs and no chins, and I can’t even do that too well--but look at me. Ig get to blab about how to cartoon, and you get to listen to me.

#10) And finally: Be original. It’s ok to copy the cartoons you love, if you must. But please: Eventually edge towards your own ideas and stories. 

-Matt Groening

[italwayshadtobeyou]

It's "Trial and Error," for me. "Goodbye Stranger" has some strong scenes, ranging from Dean's knowledge of vintage porn to Meg's laughing death at Crowley's hands. Rachel Miner gets a gold star: She balances on a razor's edge, keeping her cadences and gestures reminiscent of Nicki Aycox's, while wisely not trying to force her voice and body into pure mimicry.

Oh, and the miniature neighborhood built by the possessed woman? So. Creepy! It reminds me of scary-doll episodes, like "Provenance" and "Playthings." I'm not sure why, since I've never heard anyone mention an "uncanny valley" effect for houses. But it works!

Unfortunately, the episode also has its weaknesses, a lot more than "Trial and Error." It was bad enough when season 5 turned Meg (who had previously argued with Azazel and, when he failed her, decided she didn't "give a rat's ass about the master plan) into a simp for Lucifer. Turning her into a simp for Castiel, a lower-tier angel whom she knows mainly from the time he spent catatonic and drooling, is an insult to the character and to the audience's intelligence.

And then Robbie Thompson earns my eternal enmity by handing Cass a cheap ripoff of Sam's dive from "Swan Song." It doesn't make sense in terms of story (remember, Sam's feat seemed "impossible" to Cass himself in "The Man Who Would Be King"), and it doesn't make sense in terms of character (we spent five years watching Sam and Dean live almost in one another's skin, compared to Castiel's flitting back and forth over ~4 years and willfully betraying both brothers). This is the writing equivalent of covering your ceiling with low-res prints and thinking you've copied the Sistine Chapel. What a hack.

Everything in the office side of Heaven remains embarrassing to watch (which is almost impressive, because it ain't easy to overcome Amanda Tapping's awesomeness like that). Look, I get that they had a budget, I do! But that's a good reason to not set a whole-ass plot in an environment that would take James Cameron's best a year to render in post. As good as SPN's production team was, you simply cannot create the natural habitat of "inter-dimensional wavelength[s] of celestial intent" with poly resin and fluorescent lights. Whoever made that call (I'm guessing either Carver or Singer) is/was as much of a hack as Thompson.

Supernatural Battle of the Episodes!!

Trial and Error steals the show again! Let's see if still has the gusto for the next episode!

Bring it on out Chuck!!

Chuck: Alright now folks, next up we have Goodbye Stranger - Sam and Dean find the location of The Angel Tablet, with help from Cass. They find out Crowley has been torturing Meg for years and there's a very canon Megstiel scene!

[ladyherenya]

Favourite books from 2019

[syzekrom]

Kirby Translation Docs Masterpost

I was told on Discord I should really compile these somewhere. I may post these directly to Tumblr or WordPress or something eventually, but for now here is a masterpost of links to Google Docs.

These are various documents I've made translation sections of content from the Kirby series.

Please note that I do not consider myself fluent in Japanese, or even a Japanese speaker/able to read/write in Japanese in the first place. At best, consider these a step above some cleaned up machine translations.

𒈯𒈯𒈯

(09/07/2023) Triple Deluxe Miiverse Behind the Scenes Developer Posts, as well as for Drum Dash Deluxe and Fighters Deluxe.

(07/15/2023) All boss pause descriptions and dialogue from Kirby: Triple Deluxe, redone.

(03/11/2023) Return to Dream Land boss pause descriptions, for both Deluxe and Wii

(05/08/2022) Team Kirby Clash Deluxe August 2017 Issue Nintendo Dream Interview with Kumazaki, including info on King D-Mind and the Parallel bosses. Also talks about Planet Robobot and making games as a student.

(04/02/2022) Kirby and the Forgotten Land masterpost.

Master post for Kirby Star Allies: The Original Artbook translations:

𒈯𒈯𒈯

Older Translations

𒈯𒈯𒈯

(08/24/2021 Though apparently I never shared it after I made it until now whoops) Descriptions mentioning Galactic Nova. If anyone can find a scan of the Japanese Super Star Ultra manual's description of Milky Way Wishes, please send me a message or tweet at me @dsgiratina.

(06/07/2021) All Kirby Fighters 2 text.

(06/04/2021) All boss pause descriptions and dialogue from Kirby: Planet Robobot. Note that Kai-alone released his own version of this which I'd recommend trusting over mine, but feel free to use this as a second opinion. Please check that out here.

12/28/2021 Edit: Included the Pres. Haltmann 2.0 description which I forgot, and fixed an error in Galacta Knight's description due to accidentally deleting a character in the Japanese text.

(01/01/2021) All text relating to Another Dimension across all Kirby games. Please note that this is the oldest document, so if these descriptions appear in my later ones above, please check those instead since I might forget (or just out of laziness) to update this doc with better made translations.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ETFQB_joXKdPfALyVtGy3xDFZu_Wbm6lohlwN9fETVI/edit#heading=h.4rtrqzvic6gr

[twistedmusings]

My Kind of Human

Ramshackle stayed silent throughout the night, the moon and stars shining light into each room. 

All except one. 

I swear on my askbox that I am working on requests but this idea popped into my head and now it won’t leave and people always tell me to find a niche and I think my niche is angsty smut. And in this niche I will dwell ò uó. Aside from that, I’m very asexual so if my sexy scenes are bad you are more than welcome to roast me.   Reader is [G/N]  Warnings: Lemon soda (smut), possessive Malleus, bareback, dub-con and our good ol’ dragon boy just putting you under a spell so he can have you all to himself. 

“Do you have someone special, Tsunotarou?” 

Malleus stops walking as he looks down at your frame, your eyes staring up at the sky while you both are sitting down at the step of Ramshackle. 

“Special?” 

“Yeah.” you sigh as your eyes remain fixed on the stars, “Someone special. Like someone you wouldn’t trade for the world.” 

His first thought is his Grandmother. She had taken over the role of ruler of the Valley of Thorns and had let him grow in a somewhat normal fae childhood. He had heard many stories of children being forced to take the throne early on in their life and how damaging that decision turned out to be not just for the country but for the child as well. He was glad that his Grandmother remained steadfast and strong. There was also Lillia. Lillia, despite his constant antics, was always a guiding hand for Malleus in things he did not understand. Even now, Lillia would lend an ear whenever Malleus had a question about social interaction. Whether he would get a straight answer or a joke, that was just up to the older fae. 

“I have some people I consider that important.” Malleus looks up with you, “How about you, child of man?”

Your eyes remained fixed on the stars. 

You nod, “I do.” 

He laughs, “Is it your first year friends? I am sure Sebek would be glad to hear you say that.” 

“He would yell in my face before telling me he felt the same, you know how he is.” 

You two share a giggle before letting silence take over once again. “But it isn’t like that. The way I love Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel and Sebek is different from what I’m talking about.” 

Malleus watches your eyes shine under the bright stars, some of them being reflected on your irises as you tilt your head and lean back to let your legs stretch out. 

“I’m talking about a person who you can’t live without, you know?” 

“I’m afraid I might need a bit more of an explanation.” 

You shrug, “I can’t fully explain it without sounding crazy but…imagine you one day find yourself completely alone. There is not one single person who understands what you are going through nor do they bother because they might believe that it is too hard to comprehend. You find yourself so alone that you start getting used to that loneliness.” 

The way your eyes sadden are not lost on him, copying your movements and leaning back so that he can stretch out as well. With how you are both positioned, your fingers are almost brushing. 

That wouldn’t do. 

You continue talking, not paying attention to how Malleus places his hand over yours. 

“But one day someone comes in and changes everything.” 

He lets himself feel the fluttering in his heart, having lost himself to this feeling a long time ago. The way his heart would beat faster when you smiled, when you laughed, how you would approach him without fear. From what Lillia had said, this was something akin to falling in love with someone. When asked who it was he was falling in love with, Malleus simply shook his head and avoided answering the question. 

What he felt for you was not for anyone else to know. 

“They just ‘get’ you.” you smile and close your eyes, “Everything thought you have, they somehow complete it. Long distances become shorter when you are with them and for a brief moment time just...stops. You find yourself yearning for this person and wonder if they think about you the same way, to the point of losing sleep. You want to be to them what they are to you.” 

You tilt your head towards him. 

“Am I making any sense?” 

Malleus nods and sits up, “More than enough.” 

He stares into your eyes, your color reflected back on his as he instinctively leans closer towards you. You were building up to something, he could feel it. The feelings you described, they were identical to the ones he felt for you. It hadn’t been that long since you came into his life but he couldn’t see himself not popping by Ramshackle dorm every night to share these talks with you. Malleus wasn’t necessarily that attached to you when you two first talked but the more you sought him out the more he opened himself up for you. 

Your conversations, your little adventures, your attention. 

It was all slowly consuming him and making him realize that you were no longer a human but his human. 

The question slipped out of him faster than he could think of it. 

“Who do you speak so highly of?” 

You turn to look at him, your body leaning towards him as well that he allowed himself to dwell in his imagination for a few seconds. His own body covering yours as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer and asking him to take you with him the moment he graduated from this place. 

“It’s kinda what I wanted to talk about with you tonight.” you sit up with him and grin excitedly, “Remember what I told you about Crowley trying to find a way home for me?” 

He would answer your plea, taking your hand and kissing your palm before his lips made his way up your arm. 

“Well...he finally found it.” 

Malleus is pulled out his fantasy as he blinks twice, your smile shining just as bright as the stars above despite the awful revelation you had just given him. 

“I’m going home, Malleus.” 

You used his name. A part of him hoped that you would use his name when you two were in a much different and more favorable situation but you had just used his name to stab him in the heart with your wonderful news. 

“I was just saying all this because--I can’t believe I’m telling you this--before I came here I had these feelings about this person. They are everything to me but I was almost afraid to admit it? And this distance just...it just solidified what I felt for them.” 

He has to stop himself from reaching out to you and grabbing your wrist, thinking that the moment you got too far he would lose you forever. 

“Crowley says that I am going to be able to go back next week. So I’m just preparing myself to tell them everything I felt.” You turn to him and hold out your hand to help him stand up, one of the many things that Malleus loved that you did solely because he had an excuse to touch you. 

“I think a part of me just wanted to share this with you because I trust you. We’ve talked like this for so long that I think I just...tell you everything.” you smile sheepishly, “Which I hope you don’t mind, I did just spring it out of nowhere.” 

You were leaving him. 

“Tsunotarou?” 

You were leaving him for someone else. 

“Malleus?” 

You were leaving and he couldn’t stop it. You had these sorts of feelings for someone else and he couldn’t stop it. You opened him up and you were going to close him as if you were able to make the decision without any repercussions. You weren’t theirs, you also weren’t yours, you were his---

A hand shakes him from his thoughts as he focuses in on your eyes, his heart melting when he sees panic in them. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? What did I do?” 

He shakes his head and smiles as he takes your hand so you both could stand up. 

“Nothing.” Malleus pats your head, your size difference being made apparent to him even more than before, “I guess this is goodbye?” 

“No need to make it dramatic.” you lean into his touch, like a pet to their owner, “I’ll find some way for us to keep in contact. And if there isn’t--well then I will make one.” 

“I feel the same.” 

Malleus looks down and digs into his school jacket, smiling when you make a comment about this being a goodbye present. He puts a finger to his lips before pulling out a spool of thread, the top of the spool decorated with a sharp needle. “Give me your hand, child of man.” 

You nod and smile, doing as he told. “Is this going to be a blood pact of sorts? You don’t seem like the type, Tsunatarou~” 

He chuckles, “It is just a customary practice in the Valley of Thorns. Something that I believe will make our connection unbreakable.” 

Malleus brings your finger closer, the tip touching the spool as he expertly pricked your finger. You hiss for a second before smiling as you wave your finger. “Strangest friendship ritual ever, but it is very you so I will gladly partake in it…” 

A feeling of vertigo overtakes you as you lose your footing, your eyes closing as you feel yourself fall to the ground but finding yourself pressed against something warm. 

“...Mal--?”

You try to look up at him but gasp softly when your legs are swept under you, Malleus picking you up bridal style as you feel your eyelids growing heavier. Almost as if it was a chore to keep them open. 

“A true unbreakable connection.” 

Malleus opens the door to Ramshackle quickly, looking behind to see if he would need to take care of any pests that had made their way to the old dorm. Without any in sight, he closed the door, the lights on Ramshackle’s doorstep snuffing themselves out as the smoke drifted up into the starry sky. 

-------------

“Fgnaaa~!” Grimm yawns as he floats towards Ramshackle, yawning as he rubbed at his tired eyelids. 

Hands roaming up and down your torso, slowly undoing buttons as your hands rested on his wrists. Sloppy kisses shared between two amateurs but in between said kiss there seemed to be a forced passion, a need for the person above you to communicate how much he had wanted you. He had been caught stealing some food from Monstro Lounge and Azul had put him to work just like before, it had been a redo of what happened in Octavinelle all over again. 

Wanted wasn’t the right word, needed was the way to describe how he was feeling. His mouth traveled from your lips to your neck, your mouth opening up to let out a soft moan but being quieted down by his fingers slipping inside so they could rub against your tongue. You could barely keep your eyes open but with how you were looking at him, it almost made him believe that you were the one that initiated this. 

“Hnng?” he looks to see the lights in Ramshackle are all off, his head tilting in curiosity. When did you start going to sleep this early? 

Legs parted, eyes looking away, your chest rising up and down as his fingers pressed deep inside of you to rub and prod at whatever he found. He used his other hand to turn your face, your eyes meeting as he whispers a couple of words. A veil is cast over your eyes as he feels you open up like a flower for him. Hips grinding down to meet his fingers, arms opening to welcome him closer, his name falling from your lips making him eager to finally show you how he felt about you.

Grimm opens the door and yawns as he makes his way to the kitchen, licking his lips as he imagined what you had cooked for dinner that night. However, the only thing he finds are three deluxe tuna cans and a note that certainly wasn’t in your handwriting. 

Your hold on him is tight, legs wrapped around his waist as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. Hands in his hair, going up his horns and then traveling down as he bit at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder blade in order to keep himself from pushing all the way inside. But your warmth was calling out to him, inviting him to push deeper and deeper until all you could feel was him and him alone. 

Even with the magic affecting your brain. 

“Don’t feel so good. Going to sleep early.” Grimm sits down on the counter and frowns as he opens one of the cans and starts munching down. 

“Say you love me…” 

You gasp as you feel him push your whole body up with his first thrust, the bed creaking in protest in your ears but no sound being heard outside of your door. 

Were you sick? Grimm takes a giant bite and hums as he thinks. With him being this tired he would immediately go up to the room you two shared together and cuddle himself on your chest but if you were sick…

“I love you! I love you I love you--Malleus--!” 

The sounds were all mixing together. Your moans, his groans, the protests from the bed and the wet slaps of his body meeting yours over and over again. You were so full, all the way up to  your throat that the words he so desperately wanted to hear were spilling out despite you not remembering thinking of them. You were thinking of nothing. Every time you tried to think about what you were doing a sharp pain would stop you, instead keeping you attentive to the pleasure the soon to be ruler of the Valley of Thorns was giving you. 

“You are mine, child of man. Body and soul...all of them mine!”

“Silly human. Getting sick like that. They should be taking care of themselves.” Grimm shakes his head as he keeps on eating the tasty treats you had left behind. If you had left something this good for him, he guessed he could forgive you. 

Your toes curled as you felt something warm gush inside, lips covering your own and drinking up all the sounds you were making. He whispered something into your ear but you couldn’t quite make out what he said. Something about heirs and a kingdom. Was he telling you a story? He pulled away to look into your eyes, your brain moving your hands so that they would cup his cheek. Your comfort seemed to stir something inside him as he brought you closer, your arms now wrapped around him as you rested your forehead on his shoulder. 

Ramshackle stayed silent throughout the night, the moon and stars shining light into each room. 

All except one.