#the worst is yet to come

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Bringing this back...

[marejadilla]

"The Worst Is Yet To Come", New York, 1965 © Steve Schapiro. From "disease" AB ÆTERNO 丰 (Link in comments)

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

i can literally feel the sickness start to take hold of my body 😭 this fucking sucks man

[alpydk]

The Circling Sky

Be aware of the TW - Non/Con (Going to preface is not violent or even coercive but it's still there.) - Also the smut is in this chapter...

“My dear, get some sleep.” He pulled himself away, but she held on to him, giving him a smile, warm and trusting, her thoughts dampened by the cloud of sleep she didn’t fully want to wake from. He sat himself close to her, allowing her hand to run up his arm, beckoning him to lie with her, and slowly he did. “Lissa- “ She interrupted his words by bringing herself close to him, placing a light kiss upon his lips. “Gale…”

Ao3 Link

Lissa closed her eyes trying to block the nausea that had been plaguing her for the last hour or so. The cart was jutting along, and the smell of her father’s breath kept entering her nostrils. He’d noticed how her face had grown pale and clammy and was now using it as an excuse to make slight jokes at her expense. “Lis’, do you remember that time I got sick, and you yelled at me?” He put on a faux high-class voice trying to imitate her. “Oh papa, please be quieter. I’m trying to sleep.”

She could remember the night well, how he had again been drinking and come home in such a state that he could barely hold down the water she had tried to give him; How he had spent the night retching until even the pillow over her head had been unable to block out the sounds. She’d gotten angry and for that one line spoken, she had spent the next years being reminded of the moment.

He leaned into her and nudged her. “You remember, don’t you?”

Her stomach turned and she banged the wall to climb off the cart, her nausea no longer willing to be contained.

***

Gale watched as he saw her jump from the wagon and vomit onto the verge, her father laughing and making little effort to see if she was okay. He approached and placed his hand around her hair to hold it back, the ashen strands moving revealing the small fingerprint bruises on the back of her neck, a remnant of a few days’ past. Eventually, she stood trying to breathe in the cool air around her. “Feel a little better?” He asked quietly.

She rubbed at her face to remove the tension that had built up and nodded. “Yes...sorry,” Gale observed her colour and frowned, standing with her as they watched the caravan slowly continue into the distance.

“Don’t be sorry, my dear. Come, sit with me a moment. I might have something in my pack that can alleviate your discomfort.” He walked to a nearby rock and sat, searching through his belongings.

She slowly walked towards him. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. It’s probably just something I ate.”

“Nonsense. Ah, here.” Gale pulled from his bag a small potion. “Just a simple antidote. I always keep some on my person in case of such events.” He could see the hesitance in her as he offered it. “Don’t worry. It’s quite safe.”

“But I don’t have anything I can pay you with.”

He laughed. “Pay me? Lissa, I would never accept payment for something such as this. Here, take it.” He placed the bottle lightly in her hands. “If you must give some type of payment, then consider simply your company enough.”

She removed the lid of the bottle and drank the sickly concoction, forcing her body to swallow and accept it despite its objections. Gale tugged at her hand, guiding her to sit next to him until she felt a little better. “Thank you,” she managed to mumble quietly.

“There is no need to thank me.” He watched as the colour slowly came back to her features, her cheeks becoming their subtle shade of blue again, her eyes a little brighter. “If you’re ever feeling unwell again, do not hesitate to come to me. I’ll help in whichever way I can.”

He watched the familiar tapping of the fingers begin again as she looked at the cart moving away. “We should probably catch up.”

He stood with her, and they began to walk, not really to catch up but to at least not lose sight of it. Gale enjoyed these quiet moments they had started to have together, liking how Lissa had begun to question her father’s commands. She’d gone from dropping everything when he called to sometimes purposefully ignoring him. She’d begun to speak a little more about her upbringing and he would nod trying to understand the situations she had found herself in. Some topics reminded him of Tav, others of Wyll and his relationship with his father, and some unfortunate topics were closer to Astarion’s past and his longing for freedom. With each word, he had listened as Tav used to with him, sometimes offering advice, other times just being someone she could be open with. As he knew all too well, a lifetime of trauma could not be fixed in one short journey.

***

She hated how easy it had become to talk to him, this silly wizard from the library with his unkempt hair and soft eyes. The staff back at the library had been correct; he did look better with the beard, but she wouldn’t tell him this. At times he was a little arrogant, too charismatic, too charming for his own good. He often spoke of magic and poetry, and everything to him was beautiful in some way. From the way the shadows danced beneath the trees, to the sounds of the brook they walked beside, and though he talked a lot, he also listened when needed, taking in her words and being the person she’d never had.

“Thank you again...” She was feeling better, unsure of how to react in a situation such as this. She’d always been forced to be independent, ignoring illnesses unless she was bedbound and even then, preferring to be alone so as not to be a burden to anyone. If you’re not screaming in pain, then you’re fine, but don’t scream, because that will just draw attention. Her father’s conditioning of how to handle illness, another lesson she needed to unlearn. She remembered as a child getting sick and him sleeping through it, shouting at her the next morning when he discovered the mess; That one night when she believed she was going to die, scarred into her brain, affecting so many moments later. No one would come, no one would help her.

“I’ve said there is no need. You were ill and you needed help. You would have done the same for me had our roles been reversed.”

She wondered if she would have. Her sympathy for others was rather limited at times; if she was able to handle things by herself, then why couldn’t they? But for Gale, maybe an exception could be made. She decided a change of subject was better. “It won’t be long until we reach the city. How are you feeling about it?”

He kicked a few rocks ahead of him. “Honestly, a little apprehensive. There’s something comforting for once about not having all the information. That maybe Tav is still among the living.”

“What will you do if they are...well if they’re dead.”

He sighed. “I’m not entirely sure. Despite everything that has occurred in my life, I’ve been rather fortunate in not having to experience the death of anyone close to me.”

She nodded in understanding and pondered over saying the words that entered her mind. “You could always come and find me.”

Gale smiled at her and slowly took her hand in his. She felt the softness of his palm, the delicate tracing of his fingers on the back of her hand. “Or you could just continue onwards with me from the beginning.”

“I really wish I could.” She genuinely meant the words she spoke; if only she could leave her father, if only she could be free and not have to worry about him.

***

There was a week left of their journey as they reached the Singing Wind Inn. Lissa had spent the last few days mostly walking next to the cart rather than sitting next to her father. She’d heard his multiple objections, even the disparaging comments he’d made about her, and yet rather than rise to it or become upset, she’d simply grown cold to it. That by not reacting at all, she was drawing the most emotion from him. When she ignored him, he would begin to shout only to remember the people around them. He wouldn’t raise a hand to her so long as Gale was close by and very slowly, she was realising that in the relationship she did actually have some power and control. Gale’s words played over in her head, to just have some faith in herself, that she was deserving of love. The last part near impossible to believe; how could anyone ever love someone like her, an embarrassment, someone as stupid as her? Her father’s words, yet again...

She sat at the bar trying to keep herself awake. The hours had passed, and her father had drunk his fill before leaving for the tiny room he had booked for them both using the spoils of their earlier deception. She didn’t want to sleep in that space with him, listening to his snores and the quiet thoughts in her head of resentment she held towards him. She rested her face into her arms on the counter, allowing her eyes to close momentarily, giving herself some respite.

“Come on, you can’t sleep here. It’s murder on the joints.” She heard the gentle voice and the feeling of an arm wrapping around her and she stirred softly seeing the face of Gale.

He led her slowly to his own room and closed the door quietly behind them before placing her down on the bed. As he removed his arm from her, she placed a hand on him, an invitation for him to join her.

“My dear, get some sleep.” He pulled himself away, but she held on to him, giving him a smile, warm and trusting, her thoughts dampened by the cloud of sleep she didn’t fully want to wake from. He sat himself close to her, allowing her hand to run up his arm, beckoning him to lie with her, and slowly he did. “Lissa- “

She interrupted his words by bringing herself close to him, placing a light kiss upon his lips. “Gale...”

The tenderness in which she kissed him sparked the fire within him and he pressed himself into her. She felt as he moved ever so slightly, his hand resting on the top of her hip. They lay side by side, and she brought her mouth to his again, not wanting to waste another moment, her kisses growing deeper, more yearning than anything else.

As their lips parted Gale breathed a few words into the crook of her neck. “Are you sure you want this?”

She had never been surer of anything. She arched her head back, giving him better access and whispered out the word he needed to hear. “Yes.”

Her acceptance gave him the push he needed to continue, kissing her neck, suckling lightly on her skin, a small bite accompanied by the sweet sound of a gasped moan. She tugged at his shirt drawing him back up, longing for his tongue entwined with hers, the sweet taste of wine prickling at her senses.

She pressed a hand into his shoulder causing him to roll back, her own body moving with the momentum until she was on top of him, a leg straddled over his body. She could feel the pressure of his erection and purposely rubbed her inner thigh against it, listening for the sigh he tried to hold back. His hand came up around her waist holding her tightly trying to reposition her until she was across him completely, her hips aligned with his and he ground up lightly into her, giving her permission to go as far as she wished.

Lissa released her kisses from him, bringing herself down his body; a subtle kiss to his neck, the slow unbuttoning of his shirt, the spread of the fabric revealing the mesh of chest hair. She smiled and proceeded to run her tongue lightly down the centre of his abdomen, his breaths growing in intensity. “You don’t have to do this...” he whispered between her touches.

“I want to do this.” Another kiss as she reached the hem of his trousers. She slowly untied the laces, running the soft pads of her fingertips along the edge. She could feel his hand on her shoulder trying to gain hold of her, not to move her but to feel her there, to have something to ground him in the reality he was losing hold of.

As the laces came undone, she placed her hand beneath the leather, feeling his length, hard in her grasp. He bucked at her hold giving her access to pull his trousers releasing him in full. She ran her tongue along her lips, moistening them in preparation for what was to come, one last quick kiss to his navel before she took him in between her parted lips.

He let out a moan as he felt the massaging rhythm of her tongue upon his shaft. It had been so long since someone had done this to him, his years spent giving and giving to another, his most recent year alone. His heart raced and he felt his composure go completely at her touch, his muscles tightening with each caress. Each swirl of her tongue brought him a new wave of pleasure and he looked down making eye contact with her.

“Lis’,” he murmured. “I want to have you.”

She stopped her movements and lifted herself upon him, her subtle smile now one with a hint of uncertainty. He tried to let his mind find calm, taking in the sight of her, the way her hair hung down over her face, the shine of her eyes in the candlelight. “Lissa?”

“It’s nothing.” She pushed away the doubts, her yes becoming a longing to stop, to say no to him, but she began to strip from her own clothes, revealing herself entirely to him, before placing herself above him. “Do you want me?”

Gale took in the sight of her, letting a hand stroke her side. “I need you.”

She lowered herself on top of him feeling her body spread to accept him. She didn’t come down completely, instead teasing him slightly, needed to have complete control of the situation. She could feel the throb of him inside her, the aching hunger he had for her. He grabbed at her hips to pull her down onto him, but she resisted, holding herself steady until she was willing, before finally drawing him in slowly.  

He was desperate for her, her relaxed pace driving him wild, giving him more and more time to lose himself in her. He could hear her whimpers with each thrust, feel the clenching of her inner walls around him and his grasp tightened around her, his nails digging slightly into the suppleness of her skin. He couldn’t hold back for much longer as her back arched causing her to push herself further onto him. He was nearing his precipice, but he wanted to see, wanted to hear her release first. He brought one of his hands down between them both, her position giving space for him to trace the outline of her swollen clit; a delicate circle traced around it giving him the building whine he longed for.  

With each touch of his finger, she felt her body convulse that little bit more until suddenly she found herself coming undone, her body instinctively jolting into his, her moans growing into one sensuous yell. With it, she felt Gale follow in tow, his release as powerful as hers, a carnal howl of pleasure that she never thought was capable of emerging from those poetic lips of his.

She took a moment before sliding her body off his, lying her trembling muscles on the bed. Her heart rate calmed as her mind caught up with what had just happened. She pressed herself up next to him, feeling the cool sweat of his skin and nestled her face in the side of his neck, burying herself from his view. She could hear his breathing slowing down, could smell the scent of sandalwood on him, and as he pulled the warm blanket over them both she fought back the disgusted feeling that began to creep into her mind.

***

I am but an open book, and you are the pen that writes.

Your ink flows along my pages. I shiver with expectation, But these are words not meant for me.

The rhymes that I will never read, always will I just be penned upon.

Ripped and torn. Mistakes erased. Kept together by a seam of your creation.

Always will I be bound to you, And you alone will write the words.

For I am nothing but an open book, and you are the pen that writes.

[bellaxgiornata]

Thinking about working on ATYs next installment today because I need an angsty outlet. It's creeping into FFTD and I can't have that. And I think I have a title for this one now: "Considering the Offer." And I am pretty sure the following installment will be titled "Breaking the News."

What sort of offer and what news? You'll have to wait and see....

[howifeltabouthim]

A taste of pain to prepare him for the feast of suffering.

Jenn Lyons, from The Ruin of Kings

[paranormalcryptid]

I've started binge watching adventure time last week and DEAR GOD I forgot how unhinged some of these episodes were. No wonder I turned out this way.

[stolligaseptember]

well, i'm on the train southwards now at least. so far so good.

[kenyatta]

That awful apartment told me something. Neoliberal capitalism had probably run its course, spawning progeny it could no longer protect itself from. The constellation of possibilities that once flourished in cities like London had vanished. There were no antibodies left. Capitalism was undoing itself at nearly every turn. A kind of neo-Feudalism was on the march. Perhaps we were witnessing the birth of post-capitalism after all, not a clean and better alternative to the system, but (rather paradoxically) a much worse version of it, one that will make the “Trump Years” look like a tiptoe through the tulips.

My theory is this. Most advanced industrial societies have actually outlived the principles of capitalism and are busy transitioning into something else. It is still too early to say what that “something else” might be. But we do know the break won’t be clean. So the post-capitalist future we should prepare for will be no classless utopia. The worst features of capitalism will be amplified and applied reductio ad absurdum, coalescing around the return of preindustrial norms of authority and an incredible polarisation of wealth.

Donald Trump, Brexit, the impending environmental eco-blitz (or what NASA calls a “Type-L” collapse given the role played by elites) and the prospect of another Radiohead album give the appearance that things couldn’t possibly get worse. And yet, I disagree. They probably will.

The Worst Is Yet To Come - Peter Fleming (2019)

[tilbageidanmark]

This morning there were over 100 rockets fired over Kiryat-Motzkin area where my mom lives. Everybody here is freaking out, and wanted me to freak out too, run to the shelter, hide, be afraid. Since 99.9% of all of the bombs are intercepted, I was much more interested to go outside and check it out.

(This conflict will not end well.)

[oopsiesifellagain]

there's demons in my house but they don't bother me so im okay with them being here. there's always music playing even when there's not. i swear i might be dead. they live in my brain and no one knows its not me anymore. i cant remember what i did yesterday but im sure i fucked it up. they can hear me when i think. they all hate me, they all want me dead (but how can they want me dead if i AM dead?)

[alreadyregrettin]

At work, drinking a red bull. I thought to myself "well it's not very classy to drink this here. I'm gonna pour it somewhere instead of going around with the can". I get a glass because there are no cups.

Now I go through the office drinking from a glass some beverage with the colour of carbonated PISS

[howifeltabouthim]

So many more terrible things will come to pass after the collapse that I wonder how big a deal it will seem to you.

Lisa Taddeo, from Animal

[beldaroot]

there has been more moments than i can count in the past seven months where i felt destroyed by all the death and carnage i've seen due to the colonialism and imperialism of the world. but there was something in particular about hind's death that made me think the world would stop turning bc how could anything continue given how gruesome and inhumane her death was? and yet, the world did not stop. and i thought we were once again left to remember her story only in our minds as she became another number, as her murderers went on killing unpunished, and as her mother grieved with rage when all she wanted was to keep her daughter warm and as safe as she could manage in this man-made hell on earth.

however, hind, a girl who only got to experience her kindergarten graduation, is now being immortalized in universities across the nation. her story did resonate to the masses and we will not let her be forgotten nor forgive those complicit in her death. real justice would be having hind alive, but these students are showing that they will stop the world and burn the status quo it upholds to the ground if it means her people can truly be liberated.

[idolatrism]

if can't feel my face ends up on my spotify wrapped, we're blaming the idol.

[kenyatta]

The close proximity of scientific excellence and savagery, even in its most mundane forms, should never be underestimated. Cyphers of the connection are everywhere, especially with respect to advanced technologies and their integration into daily life. Techno-optimists hold onto the notion that computerisation might still be used as a force for good. E-democracy will halt the present-day turn to fascism. Smart-machines will pave the way for clean, renewable energy. This kind of hope we might call digitopia.

But the optimism is unfounded. We ought to brace ourselves for a gloomier scenario. Many of the innovations born in the dying neo-industrial complex are hostile to the values of emancipation. It is little wonder that leading the vanguard of digital breakthroughs are groups like Intelligence Unit 8200 (of the Israeli Defence Force) and North Korea’s Unit 180. Violence is at the heart of the “second machine age” and everyday life inevitably echoes that founding axiom, even in the most peaceable and enlightened surroundings. Now digitopia twists into its opposite, a type of binary barbarism wielding primitive lasers in the jungle.

Having said that, talk of a coming digital apocalypse and “death by algorithm” is too dramatic. Our anxieties are legitimate, but not because some terrible cybergeddon will soon wipe us away. There’s a good chance that we instead get more of the same, only a much worse variety of it. The desolation will appear pedestrian and uneventful at first, conferring on the creeping carnage a gloss of normalcy as it prefigures the future.

The Worst Is Yet To Come - Peter Fleming (2019)